Geronimoooooooooooooooo!

So, this is going to be the day. Wow.
I woke up at 6 am, but managed to sleep again until 8. There's no way I'm going to sleep again. Breakfast with Sonja's family at 9, then back to the landing spot. One more round in the simulator, a short written test (ridiculous, but that's Germany, everything must be written here) and off we go. It's 2 or 3 o'clock by now. No idea how I spend the time.
We walk to the plane and I'm not nervous. In fact I'm looking forward to it. I'm wearing an overall, a parachute, protection goggles, an altimeter and a helmet with a radio in listening mode. Five people plus pilot in a tiny plane. It's loud and narrow, but I'm not nervous. The plane starts to move and the three trainers bend over us (no idea why they did this, and I forgot to ask) until we're in 300 m height. One of them has closed his eyes and forms words with his lips. I don't know if he's singing or praying, but I'm not nervous. Then they back off and take off their helmets. We take off our helmets, too. My personal trainer (not Andre, but shame on me, I forgot his name!) kisses his helmet. I look out of the window and feel like a tourist until we've reached 1200 m. The view is great and the only thing that worries me is that I'm still not worried. I learn the super special sky diver's handshake, the door opens, I crawl to the exit and jump. Next thing I know is that the plane is a tiny spot far above me. My parachute opens (it was an automatic jump, which means that my parachute was kind of tied to the plane and opened right after the exit), I look up and see that the painters (the ropes that connect the parachute with... well... me!) are twisted. That's not good, but on the other hand it's very exciting, because it's exactly what I've been training for. So I pedal my feet and turn myself until the painters are free. The slider comes down, I pump and try to steer. Everything works find. My altimeter says 1000 m, I doublecheck everything and where I am is the best place for me to be at this very moment. I can't hold it back any longer, so I shout

"Geronimoooooooooooooooo!"

at the top of my voice. Sky diving is great and life rocks! I circle above the landing site and what do I see? One of these cool ultralight helicopters is circling like 500 m below me. What an asshole! I see people trying to wave him away. Later they told me that he waved back. Jerk. I don't want my legs rasped by a rotor, so I stir to the east. Eventually the helicopter disappears and I make my final downwind turn. At 200 m I turn left, at 100 m I turn left again and sink the last 100 m against the wind. The ground comes closer and closer. I flare, my feet touch the ground, I'm home. Holy crap, what a ride!
I pick up the parachute and walk back to the others, feeling like the king of the world.

***

I don't actually remember what my first thought was. I would have expected something like "woah, that's loud and noisy", but luckily I found that out yesterday, so I was prepared. At least it wasn't "I can't wait to blog about this" ;-)
It's funny, but it's hard to realize how fast you fall, because the view from 1000 m and 500 m is almost the same. That's what altimeters are for. I also had trouble to see how far the ground was away when I was as close as 5 m. I thought I almost touched the ground, so I flared far too early. Luckily, a leaner's parachute is very forgiving and I didn't get hurt. I landed on my feet and fell over, but that's okay. Oh, and I forgot to mention that the radio in my helmet didn't work. All I heard was static noise. But I didn't need it anyway, so that's okay, too.

Man, that was cool!