Yesterday was Mom's Birthday. Mom, of course, rocks. So I was left trying to figure out how best to celebrate such an auspicious occasion.
Why, by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, of course!
That would be your author, coming in for a landing that, thanks to my tandem jumping buddy, was not a crashing disaster. Mere seconds later....
Not a bird, or a plane, but Mom.
First time for each of us to do that, and it was a hoot. We jumped from around 10,000 feet, had just under a minute of freefall, then about 5,000 feet of pleasant drifting to the ground. We went with the fine folks at Skydive Allegan, who have a dog on their website and so were our first choice. They were great.
World's Coolest Grandmother was on site (although she did not jump out of an airplane) to take pictures. And, in a fabulous stroke of good luck, one of Mom's hospital coworkers is a private pilot who flies out of the same airport. After our jump, he packed all three of us into his plane and took us for a lovely spin around West Michigan.
That, folks, is what it looks like where I'm from.
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