Monday, Apr. 23, 1990
The Ultimate Leap of Faith
By David E. Thigpen
It beats just about everything for sheer hair-raising excitement. It offers danger, exhilaration, suspense, terror and fast-moving scenery. It is called bungee jumping, and it is the latest sports craze among the young, particularly in California, New Zealand and France. Many American TV viewers were introduced to it last month by a controversial (and now discontinued) Reebok sneaker ad that showed two men leaping from a bridge: in the final scene, one jumper dangles safely from an elastic cord while the other, wearing a different brand of shoes, has tumbled out of them -- presumably to his death.
Once known only to a handful of sky divers, mountain climbers and other daredevils, bungee jumping -- the origin of the name is unknown -- has spawned dozens of clubs in recent months. One of the first, Bungee Adventures in California, has already sent 8,000 thrill seekers over the edge. Although there have been no fatalities reported in the U.S., two French jumpers fell to their deaths last year when their cords severed, and a third died after colliding with a tower.
Enthusiasts maintain that the thrills outweigh the risks. Jumpers leap headfirst from bridges, cranes and hot-air balloons, from 90 to 300 ft. above the ground, with only a long nylon-cased rubber bungee cord to break their fall. Anchored around the ankles or to a body harness, the wrist-thin cord is long enough to allow a few seconds of free fall before it stretches, dampening the force of the plunge. The jumper sometimes hurtles to within a few feet of the ground before rebounding skyward like a yo-yo as the cord snaps back to its original length.
Bungee jumping is based on an age-old ritual practiced by the "land divers" of Pentecost Island in the South Pacific archipelago of Vanuatu. Every spring villagers there collect liana vines and wind them into long cords. Young men then scale high wooden towers, lash the vines around their ankles and jump. A successful leap is considered a demonstration of courage -- and a harbinger of a plentiful yam harvest.
The modern-day craze had its origins in 1979, when members of Oxford University's Dangerous Sports Club, having read about the land divers, put on tuxedoes and top hats and dropped from the Golden Gate Bridge. Among early devotees were two brothers, John and Peter Kockelman of Palo Alto, Calif., who in 1987 began jumping from bridges over river gorges in the Sierras. Recognizing the sport's commercial potential, they quit their jobs as engineers and in May 1988 opened Bungee Adventures in Palo Alto. Recently the Kockelmans introduced hot-air balloons as jumping platforms. Every week 100 jumpers ranging in age from twelve to 72 pay the Kockelmans $99 to leap from a tethered balloon 150 ft. high.
Since the sport requires no special skill or physical conditioning, the challenge is strictly psychological. Veteran jumpers like to tease newcomers by telling them it's not the fall they should be afraid of, but hitting the ground. Some participants describe the experience as "death survived." Susan Steade, 27, a San Jose writer, made two jumps in the summer of 1988. Says she: "Skydiving was a lot less scary." Lance Colvin, 30, a computer specialist in Santa Clara, Calif., is a veteran of 50 leaps. "You get sweaty palms, cotton mouth," he says. "But the jump is one of the most elating feelings. It's more emotional than physical." Successful jumpers invariably wear a glowing "postbungee grin" reflecting a mixture of ecstasy and relief.