Blog

The Moab Drop Zone

• March 2008
• Uncategorized

Although I know it’s hard to believe, Moab just got even more perfect. (Anyone who is sassy can remind me of this when it’s July and has been a million degrees for as long as anyone can remember.) But Clint MacBeth has reopened the Skydive Moab operation, officially the best drop zone on the planet, according to me 🙂


Brendan McHugh, who taught both Dean and me to skydive in Boulder, decided to spend a few months out here this season, working as a tandem master for Clint, and BASE jumping the rest of the time. How perfect is that?

I mean, there is one pilot (Mario), one Cessna, two tandem masters (Brendan and Keith, Clint’s brother), and they are all local jumpers and good friends. I don’t think there is a smaller, cooler drop zone anywhere.

Mario Richard, who is flying the plane, is a wild French Canadian BASE jumper and pilot. This drop zone is so small, that being a master rigger as well, Mario packs the tandem parachutes also!

If you are not familiar with drop zone culture and skydiving, tandem packers at the big drop zones are usually devoted, kind of broke, skydivers or young teens working for a few bucks for each pack job. So it’s really unique and funny that here in Moab, the pilot lands the one-seater Cessna in front of the hangar, jumps out of the plane and starts packing the tandem parachutes.

But he loves it–Mario loves everything, and always seems to want to stay busy. He is always ready to go out for a BASE jump, or fly the plane up for the local jumpers if we can organize 4 “fun jumpers” on our own (which is nearly impossible, similar to herding cats, which is why I always hitchhike on single tandem loads) or take his dirt bike out to investigate a potential new jump site, or go out in the canyonlands for a camping trip in the Cessna when they have a couple days off from the DZ….those French Canadians have a lot of energy! So it’s a lot of fun having Mario, Brendan, Keith and Clint around.

The only downside to the tinyness of our drop zone is that plane rides are generally quite sporadic and random, although that’s also the best thing about it, depending on the way you look at it 🙂

Basically, the only way to meet the cost of running the plane up to 10,000 feet is to obtain tandem customers–people who are interested in trying a skydive, and will make their jump while clipped to the front of the tandem master (Brendan or Keith). Because this is a pretty special, involved experience, a tandem jump costs around $200. A regular “fun jumper” is an experienced skydiver who owns all their own equipment, and can jump alone. We pay anywhere from $13 to $25 for a plane ride, depending on the drop zone.

Although this might seem like a lot of money for a single skydive, it is really peanuts compared to the cost of running an airplane. So most dropzones can only stay in business as long as they can attract tandem customers. Here in Moab, because we are all friends and jumpers, Clint and Mario will take the Cessna up if we can get 4 fun jumpers, even though they actually lose money on a load like that.

The best thing for everyone is if a single tandem customer books a jump, and then one or two fun jumpers show up and cram into the plane as well.

Since I seem to be the most addicted skydiver in town, especially as I am trying to get a lot of flight time in my Vampire 2 wingsuit, I stay in close contact (i.e., annoying and repeated text messaging to Brendan, Clint, and Mario) with the DZ, and am always ready to dash out to the airport if there is a single tandem slot.

Until now, I’d never skydived from a Cessna. I’d jumped out of an Otter, a Caravan, a King Air and a Skyvan. They all have pretty big doorways, the King Air being the smallest, but in comparison to the Cessna, still huge! This ride is so small that I have to wedge myself into the tail if there are four jumpers in the plane….

it’s kind of like crawling into the hatchback of a Honda next to all the backpacks because you really want to go to the crag with your friends that day. Though it does make you very ready to jump out after twenty minutes, squished back there like a wadded up sleeping bag.

When we first checked out the Cessna, Dean and I were in wingsuits, and wondering how exactly one exits a Cessna in a wingsuit? The door is small, very small, and then there is a step outside, and wing struts and wings and tail all around you, instead of a simple large opening surrounded by vacant sky, which is what you normally have with a jump plane door. In a larger plane, you stand next to the open door and simply hop out sideways. Easy. This Cessna situation looked very complicated and obstacle-y, in comparison, with lots of ducking and sidling and maneuvering to be done while zipped into essentially a bivy sack with wings…..

We sort of discussed and theorized the whole thing on the ground, arrived at no real conclusions, and as usual, just decided to figure it out later–you know, when actually climbing out of the moving plane.

So it turns out, you need to climb out carefully with your knees pinched together and elbows squeezed in to your sides, making sure to hang on and not get blown off by wind catching any of your wings, and inch out onto the step, while clinging onto the smooth, slopy metal front edge of the wing strut with your hands close together (since you have your arm wings zipped and can’t really spread your arms all the way). We refer to this movement as “hamstering,” as in “just cling onto the strut and hamster your way out the step.”

Fortunately Mario is also an expert wingsuit flyer (yes, I know, he’s probably a rocket scientist too and just hasn’t mentioned it yet), so he is very helpful during this maneuver, and usually slows the plane down to reduce the blowing-off issue while the hamstering is going on. Once you have reached the end of the step, and are as far as you’re going to get from the door and Mario, you just look up at him and drop right off the end of the step. What you don’t want to do is suddenly get overwhelmed by the false sensation that you are doing a BASE jump-type exit, out away from the object, and thus make the mistake of trying to spring out from the plane and all of those nearby metal things. If you do this, you will get blown off sideways, and start cartwheeling/cannonballing/tumbling through the sky, doing flat spins on your back and sideways and upside down. I mean, this is probably what would happen if someone did that. Not that I would know, myself. 😉

It’s a little unique to see the pilot leaning out the open door with a camera, and one hand on the steering wheel. But pretty standard operation here at the Moab DZ.

One of the most special things about jumping in Moab is having the entire sky to yourself. At big drop zones, after a full load of jumpers exits the plane, you need to be looking around constantly, and at times almost dodging people in your wingsuit or under canopy, avoiding the other people as you drop in to the landing area. It’s true, people have died at big drop zones, from in-air collisions, both in free fall and under canopy. Here in Moab, as always, you have miles of open desert all to yourself, just you and your friends flying through this beautiful land.