Just Far Enough to Feel Free
Janet Kuypers
2/13/24
Living around high rises in such a big city, I knew
that if I jumped out of an airplane here, I wouldn’t be
falling between skyscrapers, but they’d escort me
to farmland past the suburbs for safety, welcome to
rural America, the flattest lands in this country. So,
I said no, I’m flying to Colorado for my first time,
and I wanna see the Rocky Mountains as I fall.
I know, I know, I’ve been here before, sat
alone with my laptop and my beer at bars
in Denver, seen amazing sights in Boulder,
managed the inclines of Colorado Springs...
but Longmont? Sure, it’s a little bit closer
to those mountains... why not. Time to train,
wait through the afternoon rain sprinkles,
and remember: you’re being filmed for this,
and they asked you to do “jazz hands” if you
were having fun. You’ve been trained, you
waited for hours, so when the time comes
and you’re in the air, over 18,000 feet above
sea level, they say, “Your turn.” News flash:
if this is your first time, like me, you might
go numb. I suddenly had no memory of what
to do, my brain was jelly, just a complete blank.
But my internal automatic response kicked in;
I went over as told to the side of the airplane
with no door. You jump — but no one says
that you won’t be able to breathe, that whole
120-mile-per-hour thing makes it impossible
to catch your breath. Turning your head to the
side doesn’t help when the pressure is on your
neck, your chest, your mouth, your cheek. Stop
freaking out, you’ll survive this... wait, the
cameraman is there, pointing a camera at you.
Be a good lemming and do “jazz hands” like
you were told. Oh, wait, then you realize when
moving one hand out a little, the wind shoots
your arm into a straight line, try to correct it,
don’t extend it, but terminal velocity it making
it impossible to control your arms when you
jump out of an airplane for the first time. Well,
the effort has to count for something... Once
on terra firma, the videographer will ask you,
“What were you doing with your arms?” Just
look at them matter-of-factly, point-blank and
say, “I was doing jazz hands,” because really,
how could you not tell. After, go to the Left-
Hand Brewery in Longmont and get your free
you’ve-jumped-out-of-an-airplane beer, because,
left-handed like me or not... you deserve it.
Then go to Golden, not for Jaco John’s Tex-Mex,
not for the free tour at Coors Brewery, but start
going up the mountain with Buffalo Bill’s grave.
(My husband swears his ancestor killed more
buffalo than Bill... wow, this vegetarian didn’t know
they married into slaughter “royalty”.) Don’t get to
his grave, but stop part-way up the mountain instead.
Turn off the road part-way up and just park, walk to
where bushes and brush clear, and stop, have a seat
on the ground. Look down at tiny cars driving along
the snaking roads below, like spiders on strings, with
such pretty colors. You’re above it all now, though not
like when you’re jumping out of the sky. You’re still
close to civilization, but just far enough to feel free.
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