My father took me out on this slippery ledge approaching the top of Niagra Falls. Doubt you can do that anymore. When we got back, he held me over the rail. I was scared shitless of heights for years. Don't be too hard on my father; This is the worst thing he's ever really done.

In my early 20s, I drunkenly said "I'll try anything once!". Leave it to Todd to pull out two skydiving vouchers he got for his birthday. I was scared shitless the whole time, even in tandem with the pro; I attempted to hide that from all parties involved.

Now I've flown a million times. It sort of exposes you to the height factor, but not the " knowing you're going to willingly give up the safety of the plane, then doing it" factor.

We rig up, get in the plane, and take off. Things get very real, very fast. At a certain minimum altitude, if the plane were to have a problem, it's safer to jump than stay in the plane. They open the jump door, and it remains open of an ominous reminder of what's about to happen; The plane continues the majority of the ascent this way.

Time moves in fast forward when the green light indicates it's time to jump. The single jumpers go before tandem jumpers, without hesitation. Then it's your turn; Time stops on a dime. If you've ever really worried for your life, you know this feeling.

You've had about an hour being taught what to do, then a good half hour to hour with your tandem veteran. You know there's a backup that'll pull on it's own; That this guy has done this so many times and was very serious in making sure you know what's up. You watched him pack the chute, carefully, checking everything twice and more. You get a full replay in about three seconds.

You're standing at the door, looking out, and your pro is telling you something. You're ready to go, indicating. You turn, and he gives your left hand a tap.

You see, knowing exactly what's supposed to happen will not always stop your hard wired self-preservation. We could not step out of the airplane with a death grip on the airframe.

I let go, and we rolled into spread eagle stability free fall. At this point, you're committed, and there's nothing to do but enjoy the ride. Once our chute deployed the adrenaline cut off. I knew we were relatively safe.

I went again in tandem, then twice more in assisted free fall (jump with 2 instructors, then pull own chute and direct it). I did not progress to jumping with a single instructor, then on my own. I don't think I'd jump again, unless the place was perfect, but climb on occasion and spend a lot of time back country hiking.

What I learned is that a fear of heights is a good thing. Falling sucks. "Controlled falling", be it by rope or parachute, can be a ton of fun. I think my fear is healthy now. If shit really hits the fan I learned enough to rig and anchor some help.