This is me right before jumping.
Two guys check the rope, tell you not to touch it on the way down.
This is my favourite picture, I made it my profile picture.
This one is ALL BUTT.
This is me grabbing the rope, petrified.
This one will give Grams heat failure.
This is me grabbing the rope on the rebound.
This is me suddenly remembering not to grab the rope.
Tears of joy I'm sure.
I was so pumped full of adrenaline, it took a good two hours for my nerves to calm down. As I was walking back along the platform back to the car, the strap on my purse broke. It hit the platform, and I grabbed the railing, like it was a gun shot. I was a shaking, terrified mess and somehow floated to the car on jelly legs.
Quick, ask me if I'll do it again. No. Absolutely not.
I'd argue it's actually scarier than skydiving. At least then I was strapped to a professional, who did the act of throwing us out the plane. And after the free fall, the gliding down to earth was calming, and you land on solid ground. Bungee jumping you have to throw yourself off the platform, and you rebound wildly a bunch of times, and when you stop you're hanging in a harness hundreds of feet above a gully.
Cross that off the bucket list. Check.