Why Don't You Go Jump Off a Cliff?

Even as we sit here, trying to edit paragliding videos, I can't quite put into words what it is like to have this crazy experience. My husband, my 11yr old son and I have now jumped off a cliff twice. I mean who does that? Evidently we do, we do that, repeatedly.

It was as we walked home from our coffee farm hike that we saw the sky filled with paragliders and had the thought that that would be the best way to really see this gorgeous Colombian valley. $40 to jump off a cliff seemed like a great deal so we signed our death warrants and prepared to fly. I can feel you seasoned paragliders rolling your eyes, but try to remember back to your 1st time...weren't you scared?

The morning of our 1st paragliding trip, we climbed into the van full of doubts. We had tried to eat breakfast, but the nerves made it hard to even have coffee. Let that statement just sink in a second...it was hard for coffee addicts, in Colombia, to drink coffee. Those are some powerful nerves. Somehow the idea of throwing ourselves off a cliff, and for me and Jesse, allowing our child to jump off a cliff, was the focus of our fear, but it turns out we had plenty more to worry about.

The van trip took us to the nearby town of Los Andes and way way way up into the mountains. Remember the dangerous car trip we took into the jungle a blog back? Well, we were about to recreate it. It was amazing the rocks that our pilots drove this van over, bouncing us hard off the metal structure of the seats as we careened around blind corners and charged up steep hills. Sometimes the old, tired van was unable to have the steam to make it to the top and needed to roll back down and start again. We would tilt precariously at the top of the hill and then race down and around another corner. At one of these ridiculous curves, I made the mistake of looking out the window, down into the valley below, and see that the van was barely on the road! This made my fear sky rocket and I gripped onto Jesse. It wasn't but a few seconds later that we felt the van sink into 2 feet of mud. The driver gunned the gas and we swashed closer to the cliff's edge, then he backed up and took a running charge at the bog...aiming for the cliff side! All three of us were terrified and I started asking to walk. When the rest of the pilots jumped out to try to push the van, which was stuck again, through the ever growing mud pit, they wouldn't allow us out. I think they didn't quite get how bad we wanted out and thought it best to not have the clients pushing the van. No, no I don't want to push the van, I want to hitchhike back to Jardin and be done with this shit show.

By the time we parked the van at the base of a trail, I was in a full sweat and trying to hold back tears. We hiked straight up the mountain side, feeling the burn in our backsides and emerged from banana trees and coffee plants to a small clearing with a almost vertical expanse of grass that ended in a cliff. This is where we would run down to leap into the air. I could hardly even stand up on this flight path and I was going to have to run down it? This was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Luckily, or maybe not, there was no wind and so we sat for 40 mins, catching our breath and looking at our impending death. However, we all agreed that flinging ourselves off the cliff was a far better idea than getting in the van and driving back down that road. Migrant coffee laborers emerged from the fields to video the crazy gringos that were going to jump off a cliff; we exchanged looks with them as if to say 'I know, this is seriously stupid'.

Finally the wind picked up and we got our son geared up. He repeated "I'm scared" like a mantra, but followed instructions to get in place. My hands were slippery with sweat and I worked really hard to speak in a calm voice. Then suddenly they counted to 3 and ran, with my child, off the cliff. I almost peed my pants.

I was to be next. I looked to Jess for his classic "you got this babe" face and found a pale, worried look staring back at me. Oh crap. "I have to be at least as brave as our son was right?" I asked nervously laughing. "Yes, but I'm scared" was his response. This was NOT good! How the hell do I back out now?

Before I knew it, I was being yelled at "Run! Run! Run!", I leaned hard against the force trying to pull me backward as the fabric filled with wind. My feet slid fighting me and I literally ran as hard as I could...in place. What the hell?!? Then in a sudden burst, I was released down the hill and off the cliff. My heart raced and I thought I might vomit, then that was it, we were in the air! I pushed the straps down and sat in the sling seat. We swept up into the air and over the trees and I couldn't help but cry out in excitement. We swirled over the rolling green hills and farms in an exhilarating woosh that I hoped would never end.

It is absolutely just like you imagine flying to be in your dreams. The warm air against your face, the extraordinary views, and the ultimate sense of freedom. There is also the wobble that sends tingles down your spine as you realize you are only hooked to the pilot with 2 carabiners and a small strap that is loosely over the front of you. It is unlike anything else I have ever done. I'd say it was like scuba diving when you catch a current and fly through the water, but it isn't even close. It is pure magic; you are thousands of feet up in the air, an all too unnatural place for a human to be, and the sensation is indescribable. All too soon, we were coming in for a landing. "Pick up your feet" my pilot yelled and we slid on our butts into a field of cattle, way to close to the cows for my comfort, but hey, I was alive and my cheering boy was beaming at me "Can we do it again?!?" he asked, almost busting out of his skin with happiness. Yes, we definitely needed to do it again; this was hands down the coolest thing I had ever done.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com