With ear to ear grins on our faces, a group of us have assembled outside of the spray painted bus.  There is a wide range of people among us, some young North American students, middle aged men on vacation, a number of young Koreans and a few older women as well.  Scanning the faces of each person, the excitement is easily seen, but upon looking closer I pick up on the flashes of anxiety and even a touch of fright.  We all knew what we were getting into though.  We all signed on that dotted line and handed over our credit card to be charged an exuberant exorbitant sum of money.

The group leader waves us over, gives us a quick talk and then opens up the bus doors into which we enter.  Filing in we take our seats.  I sit with two other young chaps I had been previously talking with.   As the bus engine roars to life we begin the hour long journey to our destination. We resume our conversations about all of our previous travels, swapping stories of adventure and misadventure, all the while the bus winding though the snow-capped mountains of Switzerland.  Villages of all sizes dot the landscape while rivers and small streams cut through the sides of the mountains, often forming small waterfalls and swiftly flowing rapids.  The time flies by and before I realize it the bus has stoped.  We’re at the base of the first gondola station.

As the bus door opens and we start to get off I hear a few shouts of joy over the background of excited conversation.  With our guides toting all the gear behind them, we board the platform and wait for the next gondola.  Nearly everyone goes to the bathroom, including myself, a fact that I found most amusing.

At last the gondola arrives and twenty of us cram into its tight quarters.  The doors slam shut, one of our guides presses a few buttons and we start moving almost majestically up the mountain, the soft swing of the gondola becoming almost hypnotic.  At last we arrive at our first platform.  We exit the gondola and throw all our stuff in one of the buildings there.  It’s time to weigh in.

I wait for my turn patiently and then finally step on the scale.  I’m in the green weight class zone, which means I’ll be in the first group to go.  I’m given a harness to put on which fits snugly over my body.  Then a guide places some pads around my shins and ankles.  He smiles and asks if I’m ready.  Of course I am, I reply easily, I’m excited but not afraid.

Finally everyone in the first group is ready.  Fifteen of us cram into a tiny gondola that is probably made for five comfortably.  Suddenly “pump me up” music starts pouring from the large speakers in the gondola.  Everyone laughs and starts moving to the beat, some, including myself, start to pretend to dance, although it’s rather hard since everyone is basically packed in like sardines.  The gondola starts to move.  As it’s about halfway to the next platform it abruptly stops, the gondola swinging in the air.  We’re over a small lake overlooking a beautiful green landscape of mountains, with snow in the distance.

Looking around, many people are murmuring to those near them, the look of fear more prevalent on their faces, while a few of us just start smiling even wider (if it were even possible) and moving our heads to the rhythm of the music.  The gondola door slides open and the two guides with us start busying themselves with various tasts.  Two young Americans who had done this before sign up to go first and second as they’re closest to the door.  I put my name third on the sign-up sheet.

Before I really even notice, there are two less people in the gondola and I find myself staring out the open doorway of the gondola.  The guide attaches a long cord to my legs and double checks my harness straps.  He smiles, pats me on the back and tells me to get ready.  I move myself right to the edge of the doorway and place both my hands on the side walls and crouch down slightly, preparing myself to launch out.  The gondola suddenly roars to life with the sound of everyone yelling in unison, “Five, four, three, two, one, BUNNNGIIEEEEE!!!!!!!”

Without a seconds hesitation, and with seeming insanity, I pull with all my might on my hands and push with my legs jumping straight out of the gondola in a superman like fashion .  I’m flying.  The feeling is incredible.  For that brief moment I’m completely weightless, the only view is the lake below and the mountains ahead.  Suddenly the laws of the universe kick in and my body starts to dip forward.  I imagine myself deciding to swoop down to the earth after enjoying my brief flight.  The lake suddenly becomes one of the only things in my view.  What was seemingly a small lake grows larger and larger as I plummet towards it.

Then I feel it.  The bungee cord attached to my ankles tightens, my decent slows and then finally stops about five meters above the surface of the water.  That was fun I think to myself. A split second later I’m being rocketed back up towards the gondola.  My god this is awesome.  As I near the peak of my return back up, I pose for the camera.  Then back down to earth I fall again.  Then back up, then back down.  I’m relaxed, enjoying the roller coaster like sensations, trying to take every moment of it in.

About fifteen seconds after my initial jump I at last cease bouncing and hang upside down over the water about twenty meters up.  They let loose some slack in the gondola and I drop down towards the row boat waiting for me below.  Grabbing onto the outstretched pole I pull myself down and land in the boat.  A man quickly unstraps me and sends the bungee cord back up.

They then rowed the boat back to land and I jump onto the shore, sadly once more becoming a land-locked creature of the earth.  But I had my moment, however brief.  That feeling of freedom, without a care in the world, soaring high over the Swiss Alps.