Waking up at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday is not standard procedure for a college student. Then again, neither is plunging from an airplane a mere 10 hours later.

After enduring almost eight hours of classroom training, the 15 new UW-Eau Claire Skydiving Club members (myself included) were eligible for their first static line skydive.

Indianhead Sport Parachute Club instructor Kathy Bauer headed the ground school, where students were put in multiple scenarios in a mock up skydiving rig to ensure they knew how to react immediately to any situation that can go awry while jumping.

In addition, students were taught how to exit the aircraft, steer the parachute and land properly. Once all the students felt totally confident and any questions or concerns were satisfied, we were suited up in some of the classiest jump suits known to man.

It wasn’t until I put on the parachute that I had a clue what I was really about to embark upon. The plane ride was cramped at best with three students and one instructor, plus pilot, in the Cessna 182.

It was a short ride because 3,000 feet would be our destination for the day. Upon the opening of the door, we were greeted by a blast of chilly autumn air and a beautiful view. The process of exiting the airplane is a bit more involved than just hurling one’s body into the wild blue yonder.

It consists of three steps whereas you ultimately end up hanging from a strut that leads from the wing to the fuselage with your legs dangling in the wind. When the jumpmaster gives the signal, you let go and follow a count sequence to insure the parachute has deployed.

This is what we learned in the classroom and what we practiced on the ground. In my case, the actual drop was a bit different. I was fine until I let go of the airplane, then all my confidence and training remained aboard the airplane while my humbled body abided by the laws of physics and was reduced to a screaming mass of flesh and bone tumbling towards the earth at an ungodly rate of speed.

Then, my link between certain doom and a desirable outcome, all 288 square feet of it, announced its presence with a soft ruffling. That was accompanied by a much more acceptable rate of descent and a sigh of relief from the bewildered skydiver.

The rest of my trip was navigating my way back to the drop zone, assisted by a jumpmaster on the ground via radio. Landing was remarkably easy and gentle, far from the violent collision that I was sure to encounter before my nylon guardian angel came into action.

In my opinion, skydiving makes the most aggressive roller coaster seem like a ride down an escalator. I highly recommend it to anyone that is into the “extreme” recreational activities.