[itsdevlin]

Active BASE jumper and wingsuit pilot here. Instructor of both.

2016 was by far and away our worst year on record. We lost newbies, heros, and damn near all levels in between. Since then, a few sites have taken a more locked-down approach where we used to be welcome, and as a community we've made progress to band together to push education and conservative decision making over 'dude that was so sketchy.'

A lot of people have brought up the why - why do people do this when they know it's so dangerous? Well, that's a question that everyone needs to make for themselves, but for me it's quite simply that it's the only time I've found my mind to be quiet. It forces me to be present, assess everything in a level of detail that is unparalleled in any other time in my life, and quiet down every other distraction.

Also, it's beautiful. Being in the mountains, on top of buildings, out on bridges, climbing antennae, all with some of your closest friends? It's incredible. There's absolutely nothing on the planet like that level of adventure.

With all that said, it's fucking dangerous. I've managed to have a somewhat clean track record in my two years in the sport, with only two broken bones, but I have probably 20 of the people on the Base Fatality List still in my phone, four of whom I'd call great friends. It's fucking awful losing friends like that, but it's who we are. If they wouldn't have lived a life like this, would they have been them?

A little while back I had the lightning strike closest to my family, when we lost Ian. Here's his story:

https://vimeo.com/167054481

[notjustanymike]

It's funny, the closest I ever came to a quiet mind was barreling down the back straight of Road Atlanta at 135mph in an open wheel racer. When more things can go wrong than are possible to comprehend, the mind appears to delete-all and focus on the task at hand. I'd call it psychological minimalism.

[wazoox]

If you need your mind to be quiet, and to feel present to your life, there are non-life threatening ways, like mindful meditation and psychoanalysis, or maybe even working in a charity.

[ProAm]

Or just continue to do what he's doing because it works and he likes it. Everyone gets to choose their own path...

[bira]

Saving people in the ER or as paramedics is another of those instances. It doesn't have to be your life the one on the line.

[itsdevlin]

I also do those. I also climb, slackline, paraglide, ride motorcycles, surf, ride bikes, and read on the beach.

[bartread]

"If they wouldn't have lived a life like this, would they have been them?"

And along similar lines, if they hadn't lived a life like that would you have had the benefit of their friendship? Would you even have met them?

Doesn't really make it suck any less when you lose them.

[bira]

Are you willing to die for it?

[itsdevlin]

In short, no.

To bring a strawman into this: Would you die for your commute? What about a burger? A beer? All of these things kill people, and all of them can be avoided. People don't, because they like them. They accept the given level of risk by mitigating it as best they can, and going on about their lives. Risk is omnipresent.

The real killer is when you don't understand the risk. If you think something has a 1:1mm risk of serious physical harm, you'll probably be alright with it. If something has a 1:100 risk of the same level of physical harm, you'll probably think twice (or you'll prepare yourself differently).

Risk management takes two forms in our world: Unknown Unknowns, and Normalization of Risk. For newbies, unknown unknowns kill them. Thinking something is a 1:1m risk when it's 1:100 provides a real easy way to put yourself in a situation you're unprepared to handle. For experienced jumpers, normalization of risk is what seems to be killing us. If you take a shortcut that increases risk 10x, but you've taken it 1k times, in your brain it just becomes 'the way' and you forget that you're actually multiplying your risk. Do that enough different times and what in your brain is just 'the way' is actually the summation of a complex web of risk-multiplying shortcuts.

Remember both of those things, and you might make to your next birthday. Maybe. Maybe you'll get killed sitting at a stoplight by being rear-ended by a drunk driver, like my first base jumping mentor was.

[bira]

I almost died choking on a chunk of meat once. It was quite interesting how my mind went blank as soon as I realized I had to do something or I was dead. No thoughts, no fear. Just absolute focus and the will to do anything. I'm not sure if it was me sticking a fork down my throat or a guy who was there who started to hit me on the back to do the trick. But after 20 or so seconds I was once again able to breathe. I was red, sweaty and in tears due to the stress and I couldn't speak but I was ok. I realize anything can happen at all times and I'm trying to be always alert and ready (chewing my food like a mofo and warning others to do the same - and to call themselves lucky I'm now trained to respond and keep them alive in case they pass out). So far, so good.

What I'm afraid of as far as base jumping is concerned is that you can't react to what's happening or you have just a few seconds. What if the chute doesn't open properly? What if the wind slams you on the rocks?

You are gambling with your fate. True that we all gamble with it when we eat, walk down the stairs, drive around etc. But at least in those daily circumstances we can take proper countermeasures and deal with whats' happening as it happens.

I would understand though if you know the risk of doing something and you still do it because it matters so much to you. If you could choose to die while doing what makes you happy wouldn't you?

I remember the first time I was on a plane. I was in such a joy that I thought "if I die now, I wouldn't care. I'm so happy I'd die happy."

We are all going to die. I believe it's better to die while doing what means the most to us, than not living fully and safe, ending up not appreciating our life cause we give it for granted.

[rhombocombus]

Seriously. I sit in a cubicle all week and think about this. I just lost a friend, a skilled diver, while she was snorkeling for scallops. Nobody knows how she drowned, but she did. I am a rafter and climber and backcountry guy, and given the preference I would rather die at the ripe old age of 120 surrounded by friends and family, but as a second choice I'd sure rather fall out of the raft than croak at my keyboard or sitting in traffic. One is living, the other is simply being alive.