Geronimo: is jumping out of a plane fun and fearless or just simply foolish?

SKYDIVING divides even the wildest of thrillseekers: some can’t think of anything more exhilarating while others nothing worse. We find out who’s right.

“I WOULD never do it.”

“You are mad.”

“That would scare me s--tless.”

These and many more have been the general reactions when I’ve told peeps and pals I’ve been skydiving.

I’d been told to clear my diary for a few hours on a recent (non-monumental) birthday morning.

And of course, I protested to my bloke as I had usual work commitments on blah blah blah.

But he said, well, just get out of them. Just this once.

OK. So I did.

Thinking he’d organised a bridge climb or some champagne-fuelled breakfast at somewhere posh I asked what I should wear. OK, that’s a girl thing.

News_Module: Skydiving Control Centre. Picton.

Well, seems a flippant comment I’d made to him had obviously resonated and he’d gone and booked and paid for a skydiving tandem dive. No. Not tandem as in an us-together-dive, but jumping with seasoned professional.

We headed out to our closest drop-off zone to Sydney — Picton — and while the digs didn’t fill with me with much confidence — there was a graveyard of old caravans surrounded by overgrown weeds — I put on blinkers and moved into the sign-on zone.

We scribbled our lives away and joined an official skydiving organisation and after a short briefing at the self contained skydiving centre it was outfit time.

News_Module: Mmmm. Nice outfit Hoyer

Fitted with some incredibly oversized and slightly shoddy diving gear we headed to the small plane and took off for a 20 minute scenic flight climbing to 14,000 feet.

From 14,000 feet, the views were breathtaking, although the flight up seemed so quick I hardly had time to take any of it in.

News_Image_File: See, I’m not scared ...

I think there were mountains and coastal views of Sydney outlined on the horizon but I was too concerned making sure my well-used lilac gloves weren’t going to slide off as I jumped for my life.

Once the time was near and my pro-diver had firmly adjusted himself to me, it was time to push toward the open door and wham. We’re out.

From 14,000 feet, we did a 60 second free fall and five minute fall under the parachute. The go-pro attached to my diver’s wrist was working overtime. Of course.

He had the video routine down pat, knowing when to ‘thumbs up’ the camera, knowing when I could ‘assist’ with the parachute glide and telling me to straighten my legs once we were about to hit the ground.

News_Image_File: One minute to go and we’re out ...After those few precious minutes. It was done.

In those few minutes, I felt free, happy, alone, exhilarated, excited, not scared and not for one minute did I think of what COULD have gone wrong.

I loved it and like great sex, wanted it to last much longer.

Like a bungee jump or a flying fox leap, that first jump out of the plane is the hardest but when you have an experienced diver strapped to your back, I had no fear.

I’d do it again in a flash.

Follow Melissa on Twitter and Instagram @melissahoyer News_Image_File: Hello ground. We made it.