Buzzed Lightyear

If any of you Chasers were to ask me what superpower I would want most, I’d say that I’d want the ability to fly.  Think about it.  What is more impressive than flying?  Being invisible?  Yea, it’s really easy to impress people with your superpower when they can’t even see you.  How about being invincible?  Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you can't feel pain, which would suck.  And don’t even get me started on slinging webs from my wrists.  I live in a suburb:  lots of good that superpower will do me without any big buildings.

Yesterday, though, my wish of flying was finally granted.  You see, ever since we went to Crete there’s been a group of girls who’ve wanted to go bungee jumping.  Two of them skipped out on the Crete trip just so they could go jump off a bridge instead, but ended up having their plans ruined by inclement weather.  They tried to go again on Saturday, but found out at the last minute that the place was closed.  They decided that if they didn’t go on Sunday, it wasn’t meant to be.  And that’s where I come in.

I’m always on the look out for interesting things to do on this trip for two reasons:

1. To entertain myself because normally our downtime is spent playing cards, watching movies, or eating 1.80 euro gyros.
2. To try and find some experience that I can fill a blog post with (you’re all welcome for this one).

So, after I found out on Saturday night that the girls still hadn’t gone bungee jumping after their second attempt, I decided to join in.  Third time’s a charm, right?  Well, it kind of is.

On Sunday we woke early and departed from our apartments at 10:45 AM so we could catch the changing of the guards at Parliament (basically a mini parade of soldiers and a band) and then catch the bus down to the Corinth Canal where the bungee jumping place is.  We took the subway to a bus stop, took that bus to the bus station, and got in line to purchase tickets to Corinth, which is another hour away.  At this point we decided it would be a good idea to call the bungee jumping place one last time just to make sure they were open.  Of course, they didn’t pick up.  We tried three more times.  Still no answer.

Now we were getting a little angry and had no idea what to do.  If we got on the bus and the bungee jump place was closed, that would be 15 euros down the hole.  So, we walked over to the information desk and asked the lady if she could check anything out for us.  She, too, was of little to no help.  Without wanting to risk losing money on a pointless trip, we decided to go back home.

When we got back (now at 12:00), we were pretty down on our luck.  It was starting to feel like maybe this was a sign that we shouldn’t ever go bungee jumping.  But, with one last-ditch effort, we figured out a cell phone number for one of the workers and gave it a try.  What do you know, they picked up!  Better yet, they told us they were open until 6 and would wait for us to get there.  Gametime!

We went through the whole process again, this time in more of a hurry.  We walked past the information desk at the bus station, planning to give the lady a piece of our minds, but saw that there was a new lady working there (the other one must have promptly been disposed of for her lack of knowledge).  After an hour of riding the bus in nervous anticipation, we had arrived at the Corinth Canal.

The bungee jump place looked like a beach cabana hangout.  The workers were all relaxing, making it seem as if going bungee jumping was just another Sunday.  We strapped ourselves up, paid way too much (but what’s money in the long run, eh?), and made our way across the bridge.  This was about the time that it hit me.

I’m normally not much of a nervous guy, but getting out on a small platform in the middle of a canal and knowing that I would soon be leaving it was a feeling I hadn’t experienced before.  80 meters down (262 feet, or for those of you who need a visual example, 55 feet taller than Wild Thing at Valleyfair) was the water, surrounded by sheer cliff sides.  It was a pretty cool location, but I wasn’t really admiring it right then.  Did I mention that I was first in line?

After adjusting the rope to my weight, they called me onto the jumping area and attached the rope.  A cameraman who was filming the DVD for us got in my face and asked me how I was feeling, to which I could only respond “I’m not sure why I’m doing this, but here goes.”

Once I was strapped in, the two helpers led me over to the ledge and hooked up the last couple attachments.  I looked down and saw the impending drop ahead of me.  My mind swirled with vertigo as I started imagining the feeling of dropping that lay ahead of me.  As the woman at the front desk had told us, “bungee jumping is not a physical problem, but merely a mental one.”  Hmm, yes.  Quite.

The workers finally had me all strapped after giving me ample time to ponder my fate.  I was told that I would be given a count down from 5, after which I had to jump.  If I didn’t jump within 1 minute of the countdown ending, I would be pulled off the ledge and wouldn’t receive a refund.  That was the point of no return for me.  I stretched out my arms and awaited the countdown.

5…4…3…2…1…JUMP!

With a leapfrog-style jump outwards from the platform, I was off. The drop was so sudden that I couldn’t even let out a scream.  For the first half of the jump, the rope was still dropping with me without any tug, making this the equivalent of a free fall.  But after what seemed like an eternity, I began to turn face down, the rope started to catch, and I knew I was safe.  When the rope finally caught, all the air inside me was released with a loud yell of approval and I was flung back upwards towards the bridge.  I turned over in midair and pumped my fists, leading to applause from the people above before I plummeted back down again.  On the second rebound, I was able to control my body and turned to face the bridge again, flexing and screaming as I did so.  The feeling I had inside was one of sheer joy.

After bouncing around for a minute, I finally came to enough of a halt that I could release my feet from the bungee cord and sit right side up.  I was given a minute to sit and contemplate as a second rope was slowly dropped down to me that would pull me back to the bridge.  It was only then, sitting halfway between the bridge and the water, that I truly admired my time here in Greece.  This was something I would’ve never done had I been bored at St. John’s.  I mean, who jumps off a perfectly good bridge?  I thought of the sensation that I had just felt, and knew that my wish of flying had been momentarily granted.  Or maybe it was just falling with style.  You can decide for yourselves.

The rest of the day was spent smiling for more than any day I can remember.  All I could think about was that feeling.  We talked about how we could ever top that experience, and how good it felt to feel like we could do anything.  All I know is if anyone ever asks me, “If he jumped off a bridge, would you?”  I can answer with, “No…I’d jump first.”

Overall, the whole weekend was pretty awesome.  The Twins made it into a playoff, getting to play at least one more game at the Homer Dome (which I recently found out is now called Mall of America Field at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome).  And better yet, the Johnnies won their homecoming game in dramatic fashion, coming back from 14 down in the fourth quarter and winning.  Woo hoo!

Also, in case you still don’t understand the “Buzzed” part of this post’s title, it’s because I buzzed my hair down to a half-inch for the first time since I was in grade school.  So now you’re all Chasers to a 10-year old with a receding hairline!  Woo hoo again!

In other news, Saturday night was spent waking up the echoes of the old Olympic Stadium outside of CYA.  Though we technically aren’t allowed to go into the beautiful Marble Stadium, we found a way inside when no guards were around.  We ran up the large stairs, admired the marble seats, and eventually decided to race where only the Olympians had.  The track is an old design, so the turns are only 25 meters long, which made me think that it was probably only a 200-meter track.  Wrong.  After unleashing my ungodly speed for half a lap, I realized that I should probably slow down before I pull a hammy and finished with a slower, but still respectable 400-meter time.  Need I say that I won?  Somewhere above, Zeus smiled.

Finally, I invite all of you Chasers to feel free to comment on the bottom of each blog.  As I’ve said before, my ego is unnaturally large, and if you could please feed it that would be wonderful because it’s hungry.

Special Shout-out of the Day:  Ashley Aggen, Melissa Kirchner, and Brittany Vaplon.  Without these girls, I wouldn't have a blog to write about today because I wouldn't have gone bungee jumping.  Thanks for finding interesting things to do around here without me needing to do any work!

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 3

Matt: 1

Ryan: 2

Nothing more from this post, but if that information lady had still been at the bus station, I’m sure I would’ve put up another point.

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Scott Twelves