Today was a surprise to many of those who follow us on Facebook. If you’re not on Facebook or don’t follow our posts there… you may want to sit down!
For a while, Jen has been interested in “adventure sports”, and our trip to Antarctica and her polar plunge (as well as hiking to the top of a long-dormant volcano) only fueled that desire further. If you’re familiar with Queenstown, and/or New Zealand, you’ll already know that this part of the world is considered the home base for adventure sports, things like taking jet boats up a river at 70 miles per hour around tight curves meant to shred boats to pieces, or jumping out of an airplane and careening as fast as possible toward the ground until you pull your chute and find yourself safely floating into a field nearby. If you’re Jon, Jen, and I however… Queenstown means jumping off bridges.
We’d booked it only recently, and for a while I honestly wasn’t sure if I saw the point of the whole expense, but AJ Hackett Bungee (or Bungy, as it’s spelled here) founded the sport of bungee jumping some years ago here in Australia, and created the first commercial bungee jump site at Kawarau Bridge, and this is where we would be headed today. We booked with AJHackett Bungy, and our bus would leave their office downtown at 10:30 AM, and take us up to the bridge. The Kawarau site sits about 141 feet above the water of the river underneath, and if you want to the bungee guides will even submerge you in the river as deep as they’re able within a margin of error… though today the water’s just a tad bit cold for that in my book!
Jon and I awoke early, heading down to watch the sunrise and grab a quick bite before heading back to the room. Sunrise was listed at 6:51 AM that morning, so we headed down to what we thought was the only coffee shop that opened at 6:30 (Starbucks), and found it still closed also. Shivering and coffee-less, we let the bright orange and red colors shine out between the mountains and grabbed a few pictures before a coffee shop along the wharf (Mrs. Ferg’s Bakery, related to Fergburger) opened and we were able to warm up with a coffee and a jalapeno bagel. This was sort of the “quiet before the storm” for us, we knew what was coming next in the day.
A duck joined us for breakfast
Back at the hotel, we roused Jen, who wasn’t feeling so well from the Indian food last night, and headed to the bungee shop in the middle of town. By the time we got there, though, Jen was feeling even worse. We checked in anyway, and they had us sign liability paperwork (Yay indemnity waivers!) promising not to sue them if we died or got mangled, and went through the process of getting our weight (one of the most important things in bungee) and writing all over the back of our hands. The back of the left hand was your weight in kilograms, the back of the right hand was which jump location, which bus to get on, and what number your picture/video would be once you were done. We sat in the waiting area, getting mentally ready over the next hour, but by then Jen wasn’t looking too good… and we did end up having to ask if we could re-book later in the day. Bungee isn’t a cheap experience, and the staff graciously agreed that we would be able to join a later bus at 2:30 PM, delaying our jump by a half day.
I was of two minds about the delay, but of course I wanted Jen to come with us when we went, it’s not everyday you get to jump of a bridge with your friends! Our stress levels visually improving knowing we still had more time, we left to find some medicine for Jen to help her feel better, and then as Jon and Jen headed toward a coffee shop to kill time I took off back to the hotel. I had some laundry to do, I had a blog to catch up on, and I needed to take my mind of what we were about to do.
Throughout the trip, I’d gone back and forth on whether to jump, and the cost of doing so. For one thing, as I’ve mentioned over the past few days, I’m a big individual and I wasn’t sure I trusted the bungee site given I’m not the average bear. On the other hand… how many times does this come up in your life? I was offered the opportunity to bungee jump in Costa Rica in 2014 while I was there for work, and at the time I declined it, not safe enough I thought. New Zealand, though, has been doing this since the 1980’s (really, so had Costa Rica but this was just the thought I’d put into it), and if it weren’t safe they wouldn’t let people do it, right? Who knew. I’d said yes, then no, then yes again when Jen and I discussed it… and finally with my knees firmly plastered against the back of the seat in front of me on the Quantas flight to Queenstown I had decided. Yes, I was going to go bungee jumping. Why fly this far, why put in the time and effort, if you weren’t willing to take up the experiences as they came to you. I was ready. As the board at the bungee shop read: “Crazy if you do, crazy if you don’t”.
I finished my laundry, I finished a few blog posts, and soon it was time. Jen and Jon came back, we readied ourselves again, and we headed to the bungee office. We were again checked in, again signed the liability waivers, and again weighed and written on. Now we were ready, the bus was loaded, and the 40-minute bus ride to the river began.
While the driver played a video about safety and the experience in general, you could feel a sort of solemn quiet fall across not only us but everyone on the bus. Five were going to our bungee site, and about three others were continuing on to an even higher site (about three times higher) where they would be jumping or using a big “bungee swing” to kick up their adrenaline as well. I think we were all focused on what we were about to do. It’s one thing to think about, it’s one thing to say you would… but when you walk to the edge of that platform and stand with nothing between you and a drop of over 140 feet into water, would you jump? That was the question, that was the excitement, that was the fear.
The Kawarau Bridge – Queenstown, NZ.
We exited the bus with our group, and entered the waiting area at the river site. Inside, you wind down about thirty feet to a gift shop and gear area where you can watch as others jump and take the time you need to prepare yourself to do the same. They offer to hold your personal belongings and ensure you have nothing in your pockets when you jump, and we took advantage of this given that we all had cell phones, wallets, etc.. At the same time, none of the three of us ran straight to the bridge. Instead, we watched a few jumps to understand how it worked. You would get in gear, a waist harness that secured around your groin, and then sit as one of the guides tied a towel around your feet and secured it with a nylon strap. That strap would be looped a few times around the towel and your legs, as well as around the towel top to bottom for strength, and this was then attached to the bungee cord. Should that fail, the waist harness took over, and it was also attached to the bungee cord but was only ever used as a backup. The only thing that would be holding me to the bungee cord initially was a towel around my ankles.
Once secured, the guide would walk you out to the edge of the platform (not the easiest thing to do with your ankles bound tightly together), and they’d talk for a few minutes before the person the platform jumped off. The crew always hoped for a “superman” style jump rather than feet-first, as this was the safest with the least bouncing about on the cord, and you may or may not touch the water depending on your preference and how accurate the crew was when they prepared the ropes and bungee cord for your height and weight. After you jump, and swing back and forth for a while as the cord stabilizes, a two-man crew in a small rubber raft would come out underneath you, hand you a pole to grab, and pull you down into the boat with them as they unharness you from the bungee cord and waist harness… and just like that you are done!
Simple, really. The whole thing takes about thirty seconds. How could something so short intimidate so many?
The Kawarau Bridge – Queenstown, NZ
Jen was ready, excited to go first, and we headed up to the bridge. Jen went on one side, and Jon and I to the other platform (they’re right next to each other, I think this is for height/weight reasons). As Jen was tied on Jon and I waited our turn. They took Jen out to the platform, ready to jump, as Jon was getting into his waist harness. I watched as the guy talked to Jen, explained something I couldn’t hear, and then said “Okay! One. Two. Three. Bungee!”
Jen didn’t move, though, not even a flinch toward the edge of the platform. The guide took over, assuring her everything was perfectly safe, he took her mind off of what she as about to do with words I didn’t hear, he gave her some words of encouragement, and then again he said it. “One. Two. Three. Bungee!” Jen leapt off the platform, and dropped from my view.
I heard the scream, I’m pretty sure the everyone in the canyon did, and I looked down through the slats to see her swinging back and forth while the boat began to come out to pull her down. Jen had jumped feet-first, and still had managed to dip into the water about neck-deep. I’m not sure still if she asked to be fully submerged or if jumping feet-first changed the depth on her jump, but she had done it! She’d jumped! I wasn’t surprised by this, and I watched as they prepared Jon to jump and Jen came running up the hill again toward the bridge, happy as a clam and full of adrenaline
I’d been a little worried about Jon all day, I honestly wasn’t sure he was going to jump. As the hours in the day drug on I watched his hand motions become repetitive, nervous ticks that were building. On the bridge, getting ready, he seemed almost aloof. As he was harnessed and tied I heard him tell the guide “Nervous” in response to a question of “How are you feeling”, and the guide worked to reassure him that everything was going to be fun and “this is all good fun!”. Jon didn’t look so sure at all. As he stood to head to the platform I realized I was next, and there was also a little bit of gnawing in the pit of my stomach as well. Up until this point, I’d been fine overall… just a little curious how I’d feel once my toes were on the platform… but standing in line I could feel it building. I was about to do something that could kill me, it was unlikely… but it could. Short of sitting feet away from wild lions, and sailing to the bottom of the world, this was the craziest thing I had ever done. I was drawn out of my thoughts by a familiar sound.
“One. Two. Three. Bungee!”
Jon didn’t move, in fact they had just previously had to strip his fingers from the metal rail grip and tell him it was okay to put his arms out straight. He looked a little white as the guide started talking to him and I saw him look back at the guy for reassurance. He got what he needed, the guide told him to focus on the bridge in the distance, not what he was about to do, and Jon said “Okay!”.
“One. Two. Three. Bungee!” the guide shouted, and just like that Jon jumped off the platform and fell from my view, too.
There was no scream this time, at least not at first. Then there was a cry of triumph as Jon’s initial fear was ruptured by the exhilaration of the first bounce back into the air. He hadn’t touched the water, he weighed too little and the bungee cord was too new, but a cheer sprung from his throat as he bobbed again and he yelled “Yeah!” as he too successfully completed his bungee jump. It was just me left on the bridge now. It was my turn.
By that time I was already in my harness, I remember getting into it but I was so focused on Jon’s that that part was irrelevant really, I had learned already that the waist harness was worthless anyway. I handed the strap to the guide who would bind my feet, and crawled out into the prep area. They told me where I could put my hands and where I couldn’t (guide ropes were swinging by quickly and wildly, supporting Jon’s descent to the rubber boat), and soon my feet were together, towel wrapped around and secured.
“How are you doing today Brad?” the guide asked.
“I’m fine,” I answered truthfully, “a little cold.” I had forgotten to pack a coat this trip.
“Yeah it can get cold up here!” he replied, looking at my short sleeves. “Do you want to touch the water, Brad?”
“No,” I replied, then changed my mind. “Well yes, a little. My hands maybe.”
He told me it wasn’t exact, that if they went for that I may go in the river quite a ways. I agreed anyway, and soon they were beckoning me on to the platform. I was strapped in, two bungee cords attached (since I’m heavy), the guides had me walk to the edge before posing for a few photos.
“Ready?” he asked me. “One… Two… Three… Bungee!”
That’s me on the ledge there…
A few things came to me right then, the oddest of which was a discussion from college and a teacher named Stefan Kleinschuster about the feeling of vertigo and where it comes from. I remember it clearly today even though it was quite a long time ago now. We discussed that feelings of vertigo affect people for a variety of reasons, but that he suggested the real reason for vertigo is that one can just as easily step forward as step backward. Both steps solve the feeling of vertigo, it’s just that one takes you over the cliff. Both are just as easy, however, the cost from an energy perspective is the same, and here I was considering this as a step forward (okay a jump forward) would plunge me down toward a river where all I could see in front of myself was water.
In tandem, I realized that this was an experience from which I had to disconnect my rational mind. I had to assume safety, everything was going to be fine. There is no rational approach to jumping off a platform with a rope around your ankles unless you start from a point of this being safe. I realized, as the guide said Bungee, that I couldn’t wait for another count. If I let him pause, if I didn’t jump right then, I never would.
I leaned forward, braced my knees and bent down, and jumped forward with my arms outstretched.
Jumping from Kawarau Bridge
When the guide and I had discussed touching the water, they said to part the water with my hands and tuck my chin tightly to my chest in the event I went in. I could do this, I thought, and it was at the forefront of my mind as I jumped. It was quickly replaced by one, overriding thought: “holy crap, that water is coming up fast!” This was combined with the notion that at this point there was truly nothing I could do about anything, my fate was sealed one way or the other with nothing to grab and nothing to stop my fall but the safety mechanisms already in place.
I felt a tug on my legs as I hit the end of the bungee cord, felt my descent right itself as I headed straight down as a result, and put my arms out straight and chin tight to my chest, ready to plunge into the water. The descent was slowing now, though, and the pressure on my ankles increasing. I stretched out for the water, brushing my fingers into it with both hands as the pulling and tugging on my ankles continued to grow, and soon I was ascending again away from the water. Wow! I had done it! I’d successfully jumped off!
For the next few bounces, I was both exhilarated and in intense pain. I could feel the stress on my ankles getting worse, and after the first bounce jolted me a bit sideways I wondered just how much tension was required to snap an ankle… just because I was under the weight limit of the bungee cords didn’t mean such a small area of my body was mean to hold up the rest of it! Each bounce, however, stressed me less and soon there was a rubber boat under me and a pole to grab onto as the crew came to grab me and pull me in.
“Do a sit up, if you can,” the guy in the boat told me. “Put your head toward your ankles.”
“Actually I can’t feel my ankles right now…” I quipped back, and the lowered me to safety in the bottom of the boat. Now down and unhooked, I couldn’t wait to get the towel off but I was also afraid I may have hurt something… with the adrenaline running through me I wouldn’t know one way or the other right away… but as they removed the towel I could tell that nothing seemed broken, just stressed, and I smiled and waved up at the camera that was now looking down on me from above. I’d really done it! We all had!
After a long walk back up to the gift shop area, we all ended up buying pictures and video of our experience. I grabbed a lemonade from the café and sat down, trying to figure out what could cause the burning sensation any time pressure was applied to my ankles. A few days later now as I write this, it only hurts in little areas, but that day even socks seemed like a lot. I was exhilarated though, and I couldn’t believe all three of us had jumped. What a day, and what an experience! Everyone at the shop asked what we had planned for the rest of the day, and our answer was always the same: drinking! We had to celebrate! We caught the bus back into town, pictures and video safely secured, and had a dinner of Vietnamese food (pho) before heading back to the hotel and breaking open a bottle or two of wine. Time, I decided, would heal my ankles and I was too exuberant to worry too much. Together, today, we three had conquered fear, conquered our own limitations, and jumped off a perfectly good bridge.
You can watch the full video here:
