Travis Pastrana, of X-Games Motocross fame, recently went skydiving . Without a parachute. On purpose.
He dreamed up this stunt of going skydiving without a parachute, found an operator in Puerto Rico that would help him do it, and, quite literally, jumped at the chance.
The way the jumped worked: he jumped out of the plane, did a few flips and flipped open a can of Red Bull (what else?). Then, he "docked" with another jumped to stabilize himself by grabbing hands, belly down. Finally, another jumper came from above him and hooked his parachute to a climbing harness that Pastrana was wearing beneath his shorts. The two of them landed together on a beach in Puerto Rico.
When I read this story, my first thought was: "What? No parachute?"
As I thought about it more, however, I could see the adrenaline rush. How many people can say they jumped out of a plane without a parachute from 12,000 feet? My guess is not too many. But what intrigues me most is the relationship aspect.
At some point, before he jumped out of the plane, Travis had to look at the other jumpers around him. Maybe the door was open and it was only seconds before they jumped, maybe it was when they first met, maybe at takeoff. Who knows? But he had to think: My life is in their hands. He could do nothing to save himself. Nothing. He was freefalling without a parachute.
I wonder what it would take to trust someone that much. Does it come easily in the moment, when you're falling and have no other choice? Was it difficult at first, realizing both the adrenaline rush and the absolute powerlessness? I wonder what is attractive about the jump -- is it just the adrenaline, or is there some aspect of the relationship attractive, too? Is it attractive to be saved by someone, to have someone come through for us when we can't do anything ourselves?
I wonder what it would look like for me -- without jumping from a plane -- to trust people that much.
