The Story Behind…
“Bungee Jumping Self-Portrait”
Photographed in Phoenix, arizona, november 1990
Conquering my fears through photography
Pure Adrenaline! That was what I was searching for, that was what I craved, and, with my camera in hand, that is what I found when I applied for and got a job with Action Sports Photography in Phoenix, Arizona.
I was 18 and had just begun my freshman year at Arizona State University, in Tempe Arizona. After my senior year in Kearney, I was ready to get back out in the world again. I knew I wanted to go to a big-time school, I knew I wanted to be far away from Kearney, I knew I wanted to be in a warm climate.
My Dad took me on his annual work trip visiting Kearney State College alumni in Southern California and Arizona so that I could visit colleges. In February 1990, while it was snowing in Kearney, we visited USC, UCLA and Arizona State. Walking onto the beautiful Tempe campus under brilliant blue skies, I saw palm trees and cacti, girls sunbathing in bikini’s and guys throwing frisbees around. I immediately knew I had found my home.
Not long after school began in August, and I was living in the McClintock Hall dorm on campus, I saw an ad for a freelance sports photographer in the newspaper and immediately applied. I brought my fledgling portfolio to the interview, which included pictures from the Nebraska State High School track and field meet that I had taken for my high school yearbook.
When I learned the details of the job I was immediately hooked, and to make things sweeter, I was hired right on the spot.
The job was taking the souvenir photographs of people bungee jumping.
Action Sports Photography worked with Adrenaline Adventures, the bungee-Jumping outfit. Adrenaline Adventures operated two sites. One was situated on Camelback Road near a busy interstate, and people jumped off of a construction cage that a crane hoisted a cage 15 stories in the air. The second site was in Scottsdale, and this site offered jumpers the opportunity to jump out of a hot air balloon.
I worked at both sites. My job was to get candid photos of people preparing to jump, getting their harnesses on, and the goal was to get a photo showing their face at the moment they jumped, as well as a few after the jump photos of them smiling. My boss would then offer these photos for sale to the jumpers.
There were two ways a person could jump. The first was facing forward, jumping forward and falling with their face towards the earth. The second method was facing backwards, jumping backwards, and falling with their face towards the sky.
To get a good, sellable image to people jumping forward, I stood on the ground, directly underneath them, and took pictures as they jumped out of the construction cage or balloon gondola and hurtled towards me. Thankfully, for both me and them, the bungee cord stopped their decent before they collided with me. Looking through a zoom lens at them screaming towards me took some getting used to though as it appears they were always about to crush me!
When people chose the second method, falling backwards, I would go up in the cage or gondola with them and the jump master. When they jumped out and back towards the earth, I would lean over the edge and take pictures as they plummeted away from me. I’d continue taking pictures of their reactions as the bungee cord began to slow their descent, stretch out, and snap them back skywards towards me.
Let me tell you, the second method was a heck of a lot of fun!
In both the construction cage and the balloon gondola, the moment a person weighing 150 or 200 pounds jumps away, there is a lot of movement. In the balloon, it rises rapidly when the person - the weight - leaves the gondola.
And at the far end of the jump, when the bungee snaps the person back, that shockwave makes its way up the cord and reaches us in the cage or gondola. There is a bit of shaking and, just like turbulence in an airplane, while I know it is normal and everything is okay, it is still an unsettling feeling.
However, those stomach churns were all part of the adrenaline-junkie fix I was on each day at work.
The balloon was special. The window for calm winds was just after sunrise for about 90 minutes. This site operated on weekend mornings, and reservations were required. The Adrenaline Adventures team would begin their day at 3:00am, and we had a weather check-in at 3:30. If the weather was good to fly, we would meet at the launch location at 4:30. People would arrive at 5:15, and we would jump from 6:00 to 8:00.
Those were glorious mornings, and I couldn’t wait to go to work! Most days at work, while it wasn’t guaranteed, weather and time permitting, after all the customers had jumped, the jump master would ask if any of the crew, including me, wanted to jump. And I did! A lot! Every time it was offered!
At the second location, because it was off a construction crane, people could jump all day every day and even into the evenings. This site also offered walk up jumps, meaning no reservations were required.
And because it was located next to a freeway, motorists could see the site and see the sign and see people jumping. It was the number one form of adverting for the company, so the owners wanted someone jumping all the time, even if it was crew jumping.
So, at this location, when there weren't customers, I was able to keep my climbing harness on and do five or six jumps in a row. Once I had completed the jump, and was done bouncing up and down, and was lowered to the ground, the crane operator would lower the cage back down and I’d climb back in with the jump master and we would go up again.
The other crew members and I grew increasing bold with our jumps. The cage was something like four feet wide by six feet long, and we would stand as far back from the door as possible and get a running start. Or we would attempt a double or a triple forward or back spin on the way down. Or we would climb ON TOP OF the cage and then really take a running leap off.
I was paid $1 per jumper. Not the greatest wages, although during a busy stretch I could make $10 an hour, and in 1990 most entry level jobs paid $4 to $5 an hour so it decent, and I usually averaged around $5 an hour.
However, I could care less how much I was making. The fact that I was getting paid anything, that my job title was photographer was all that mattered.
And the benefits of jumping were practically priceless. There was a price, it cost $50 to jump. I was jumping 10, 15 times a day. For a college kid eating in the school cafeteria on the freshman meal plan, this job was like hitting the lottery. Plus, the bragging rights. Still to this day, 35 years later, those bragging rights still exist.
It was the most awesome thing I’d ever experienced in the adrenaline department, and the greatest job I could think of! When I told my parents on Christmas break, however, they did not think it was the most awesome thing ever.
Undeterred, I continued with Action Sports Photography for the next year and a half I was at Arizona State.
This self-portrait was taken the old-fashioned way, with the 10 second timer. Except instead of running to get into the picture, I jumped!
I attached my camera to my monopod. A monopod is like a tripod but with just one leg. it is useful in sports photography, when there isn’t space for a whole tripod but being able to stabilize a large lens for two hours on one leg is a neck and back-saver. I strapped the monopod on the top of the construction cage, right above the door opening that I would jump from, using about half a roll of duct tape.
This was photographed with 400 ISO speed slide film. I set the aperture on the lens to f16 and the shutter on the camera to 1/250th of a second (the sunny 16 rule*). I prefocused the lens on the 10’-infinity mark. Pretty straight-forward settings.
We were 150 feet above a 10-foot-deep swimming pool. The crane driver was so experienced that he could put the cage at a height for the jumper not to get wet at all and start their rebound before hitting the water. Or the person could choose to get a slight splash.
Looking down, though, no matter how many times I jumped, I prayed that if anything went wrong, I would hit the water and not the ground.
I was in my climbing harness, buckled into the bungee cord. I looked at it and visually confirmed it was secure and gave a thumbs up to the jump master. He grabbed the spot where the D-rings connected to the cord, gave a good solid pull, and gave me a thumbs up confirmation.
I then reached up, pushed the shutter button on the camera, and we started counting backwards from 10. When we reached two, I thrust myself back and way from the cage, arms above my head, feet fairly close together, pretty good form. I felt the adrenaline take over as my body plummeted down.
I still can feel that adrenaline as I tell this story and look at this picture.
I can see the tan marks from my sandals on my feet. On my left arm is a red mark near my elbow, caused from a jump earlier in the day where I attempted a backflip and got my arm caught in the bungee cord. And most beautifully, I can see my smile. I was in the zone, and it was amazing.
Once the cord stopped bouncing, the crane operator lowered me gently to the ground.
Heart pounding, adrenaline pulsating through my body, blood pumping through my veins, grinning ear-to-ear, I waited for the cage to arrive back down and to hear my favorite words from the Jump Master: “Todd, that was Awesome Man! Want to go again???”
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