Jumpin' Jack

Well, the gods must be with me, because I got in another good jump tonight without injury. Combat equipped out of a C-130... quite possibly the least comfortable way to jump - packed "nut to butt" with some other dude's heavy damn ruck sack all up on your shit, back screaming out in pain, and unable to fully inflate your lungs. For those of you who've never done so, let's just say that after experiencing this particular brand of hell for an hour or two, you're thrilled to get out of that aircraft by any means available. The jump door just happens to be the most convenient and expedient route to comfort.

I still do love the jump though. Call me crazy, but it's a hell of a good time. Unfortunately, it's about two minutes (at most) of pure greatness bracketed on either side by several hours of suck. C'est la vie airborne.

After we'd all had a chance to gather up, turn in our shit, stop sweating and start to get legitimately cold, we had to go all Hands Across Sicily DZ in 35 degree weather, courtesy of whichever mouth-breathing piece of wolf shit decided to completely jettison his ruck sack and weapon from the sky. DON'T PULL THE YELLOW HANDLE, ASSHOLE. That's not the quick release you're looking for...

Moving on.

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(hours later)

Nate and Mat came over, between them bringing roughly 750 ml of bourbon. It is gone now. I'm pretty sure I had something else I was going to talk about here, but it clearly wasn't important enough for me to remember. So I'm going to go sleep.

Will be in Steamboat, CO in four (4!) days. FOUR DAYS. That is so fucking sweet it doesn't even seem possible.

Carry on.