This article is part 4 in a series by our intern, Jack. Enjoy!

Ground School Jitters and Big Dreams

Learning to learn to skydive starts long before you ever leave the aircraft door. For me it began the morning after my tandem with Redeye—the moment I knew there was no turning back. I signed the paperwork, paid the course fee, and walked into ground school with a mix of adrenaline and honest nerves. My instructor, James, greeted me with the same calm voice I’d heard on the radio a hundred times while working ground crew. Only now, that voice would be guiding me through every life‑saving step of the Accelerated Freefall (AFF) program.

“You already know the drop zone,” he said, “Now it’s time to know yourself in freefall.”

What exactly happens in ground school?

Ground school at Skydive Colorado Springs is a six‑hour whirlwind of theory, drills, and muscle memory. We covered:

• Equipment checks and rig anatomy.
• Aircraft safety and spotting.
• Stable body position in freefall.
• Emergency procedures for total, partial, and two‑out malfunctions (yes, they can happen).
• Canopy control, landing patterns, and flare timing.

James frequently referenced the USPA AFF Syllabus so we knew every drill matched national standards. Knowing the course mirrored the manual added a layer of trust—and responsibility.

Hanging From the Strut: First Real Test

Day two was all about exits. Because we jump Cessna 182s, we use the strut exit. That means climbing onto a wheel step, hanging from the wing strut, looking up at the Cessna’s metal belly, and then releasing into space. The maneuver looks graceful from the ground; up close, it feels like clinging to a flagpole in a hurricane.

James walked me through a dry‑run: left foot on the step, right hand on the strut, eyes on the wing. Hang, look, let go, arch. Simple—until 80‑knot wind tears at your cheeks. To focus, I repeated the mantra out loud.

Hang – Look – Let Go – Arch.

On jump one I did just that. As arranged, James deployed the pilot chute while I practiced reaching for the “newspaper” woven through my rig where the pilot chute will eventually live. My only job: keep a rock‑solid arch and check my altimeter. The canopy opened, crisp and on heading. We landed like I’d walked off a curb. One jump down, six to go.

Two Clean Jumps and One Big Blunder

Jump two felt even better. Confidence is a funny thing—it shows up right after you think you don’t need it. My freefall was stable, headings held, legs symmetric. James high‑fived me in the loading area afterward.

Then came jump three.

The next morning I felt bullet‑proof. Same climb, same strut, same steps—except for one missing piece. Soaking up the view, I forgot to pull the fake pilot chute. James deployed the real one right on time, but the debrief on the ground was merciless. I earned a new callsign for the day: “No‑Pull.” Everyone laughed—including me—but beneath the humor was a lesson I won’t forget: skydiving rewards focus, not ego.

Common rookie mistakes (and how to avoid them)

1. Task fixation – You stare at the horizon and forget altitude checks.
2. Skipping emergency rehearsals – Muscle memory requires repetition every jump.
3. Rushing gear checks – One mis‑routed strap ends a skydive before it starts.
4. Tunnel vision on freefall – Remember the canopy ride is half the skydive.

James drilled home that every error in freefall is recoverable if you stick to the plan. That’s why AFF exists—and why statistics from the USPA safety database continue to show tandem and student programs as the safest entry point to the sport.

Lessons Written in the Wind

Each evening I replayed GoPro footage, slowing the frames to study leg symmetry, shoulder tension, and heading drift. I scribbled notes on wind conditions, exit altitude, and flare strength. Ground crew work had taught me to watch hundreds of landings; now those mental notes turned into actionable tweaks:

• Flare timing – Start at hip height, finish at waist level.
• Pattern discipline – Fly a right‑hand pattern to stay predictable for traffic.
• Canopy sight picture – Reference the runway angle against the mountains for glide judgment.

Why I’m Committed to Learn to Skydive

By the end of the week I’d logged three AFF jumps and hours of study. More importantly, I’d felt the shift from passenger to pilot in my own experience. When you learn to skydive, you’re not just falling—you’re flying a personal spacecraft that responds to every micro‑movement.

People ask me:

Is learning to skydive safe?

With modern gear, strict USPA standards, and instructors like James, it’s as controlled as any action sport can be. The bigger question is whether you’re ready to trust the process.

How long before you jump solo?

At Skydive Colorado Springs, most students complete Levels 1–7 within two weeks if weather cooperates. After that, you fly solo under radio guidance for canopy—not alone in responsibility, but alone in command.

What does it cost?

The entire AFF program here runs less than a new gaming laptop—and leaves you with memories no hardware can match.

Ready to Take Your Own Leap?

If my story sparks even a flicker of curiosity, channel it. Start by booking a learn to skydive course or sample the rush with tandem skydiving in Colorado Springs first. Either way, the sky isn’t reserved for the fearless—it welcomes the willing.

Learn to skydive with us, trust the training, and discover a version of yourself you’ve only dreamed about. See you on the strut.