I looked out at the clear, blue sky and smiled. Pressing my forehead against the window, I could see acres upon acres of farmland below, large fields of brown and yellow divided by a square grid of roads. The sight of Monterey Bay greeted me when I peered out the other side of the plane. I tried to identify the towns along the coast and peninsula, attempting to match tiny dots on the map with the clusters of little buildings. Seaside, Monterey, Pacific Grove? I leaned against the wall separating the main cabin from the cockpit and wondered why I wasn't feeling anxious. That couldn't be a good sign.

The next couple of minutes were a blur. I remember tightening my gloves, laughing at Jack's joke about seeing pink elephants and giving Laura's video camera two thumbs up. Then Jack and I, clipped together by sturdy metal hooks, walked in hunched unison towards Laura and the open hatch near the back of the plane.

Common sense told me to sit down, but determination and pride pushed me to the hatch and right out of the plane. My brain tried to assess the situation. I was 15,000 feet up in the air, free-falling at 120 mph with somebody attached to my back and somebody else filming it all.

Air and thoughts rushed through my head at an uncomfortable and exhilarating speed. Images of the Greatest American Hero (remember William Katt?) and Rocketeer flashed across my mind. After about a minute and without warning, I heard the parachute open and felt the yank of the harness as our rate of descent decreased.

The view was so incredible, I nearly forgot to breathe. It felt like I was sitting on the wing of a plane or swinging from a cloud. Jack said something to the effect of, "You'll never look at the sky or flying the same way again." He then instructed me to put a hand in each steering line. Pulling down with my right hand sent us into a downward clockwise spiral. He let me make myself dizzy for a while and then retook control to guide us to a gentle landing. I thanked him for safely returning me to the ground and thanked Laura for capturing every awkward move and embarrassing comment I made on tape.

It was only a tandem skydive, but I still can't believe I did it. So far, only the people I jumped with and the three of you who read this journal know about Saturday's adventure. I'm not ready or eager to relate the details to anyone else. Maybe later, but not right now.

(Note: I'll post a couple of pictures as soon as I develop the film on CD.)