In earlier issues I reported on my first skydiving adventures out of Vandenberg Airport, now known as Tampa Executive Airport. I felt cocky with the first of my training jumps under my belt, and wasted no time practicing for my second. That too being uneventful, I took no break and rushed to get my third and fourth jumps in before calling it a day. And what a day! There is something to skydiving, maybe the adrenaline, that by the end of the day has you dropping from exhaustion. I set up my tent and turned in early.
I was determined to continue skydiving after the thrill of my first jump, so less than three months passed before I was again at Skydive City, trying to cram all of AFF, or Accelerated Free Fall training, into a two-day stay. The seven-jump course, conducted by professional skydiving instructors, is the first step toward a skydiving license.
A week had passed since my first visit to Zephyrhills. The sky was cloudy but the forecast promised clear skies, and both my buddy and I were too dead set on getting this jump in.
Thrill Seeker Sirio Dares the Sky
My personal philosophy unfortunately decries the lack of threatening stimuli in my daily environment. With speed limits the way they are, I cannot get a thrill out of putting myself in harm’s way, although I do appreciate the rumbling bass notes of my motorcycle’s exhaust. My college professors cannot threaten me with gruesome punishment if I fail an exam. The most dangerous object in my household is the InSinkErator which relieves me from the tedium of throwing my carrot peels into the trash can.