I’m Wendy…. some of my friends call me Pepper. That’s another story. This one is about the luckiest decision of my life. I’m an almost 50 year old former Navy Explosive Ordnance Disposal Diver. I love to hike, bike, swim, kayak, sail, spearfish, and most of all, fly. It’s the one thing that always makes me feel great to be alive.
Maybe it’s an addiction, but it’s a great one. I’m living between Portland, OR and San Francisco flying as often as I can (not enough). Come say hi if you see me at the hill! Here’s the rest of the story…
Flying at Torrey Pines Gliderport.
Morning range brief.
When I left the service, I intended to use my GI Bill to go back to college and start over. I saved enough money to spend a year or two focusing on education and getting comfortable with my new life. My plan was excellent, but what I didn’t plan for was what happened next.
Waiting for our bird to do a Combat Search and Rescue exercise.
I became critically depressed. I followed the advice of friends, exercising, meditating, followed by a thorough exploration of the Northwestern Nevada bar scene. The relationship I left the Navy for was crumbling. We spent months in therapy trying to sort out what was wrong but nothing was working.
When one leaves the service, this is the kind of “helpful” advice one receives:
*Understand that it's normal at the beginning to feel out of sync with your family and friends. It takes time to reconnect. (I’ve never really reconnected in the same way…. they all said I’ve changed. That’s real. They are learning to be friends with a different person…. and vice versa)
* If you lost a fellow soldier in combat, share your loss with others. (People have NO idea how to respond to this… which feels even more alienating)
From “inside the wire” Iraq
*Limit your use of alcohol (ummmm.. hasn’t everyone been saying that always??)
*Know when to seek help (We’re super heroes. We don’t need no stinking help.)
So grumpy as a government contractor in Iraq
It is difficult to pinpoint the specific cause of my depression. Was it that I missed my Navy “family”? Was it that I no longer had the everyday excitement of diving, shooting, rappelling out of helicopters, planning military exercises - or was I.. just plain old depressed? I still don’t know the answer to that question. Emotions don’t come with ID tags. I do know that I was in extremis. My nerve endings were turned inside out, skin full of fiberglass… an itch you can’t scratch. I was angry, uncomfortable, unpleasant and didn’t know what was wrong. It wasn’t long until I was having seriously self destructive thoughts.
Launching “Cliffside” Goldendale, WA
School became a fuzzy afterthought, couldn’t focus on work, couldn’t see a future for myself. I decided I would spend the rest of the money I saved on one last vacation. My last thing. So, I drove down to Santa Barbara and signed up for Paragliding. I struggled to do my first lessons. The canopy fought me, the wind was too strong, then too light. People were talking to me. And then I launched. My first flight. It was as though the world filled back up with oxygen. Like I could breathe again, no more fiberglass. It was the most profound relief I’ve ever felt. It was a very short flight. Not more than a minute, but when I landed, I fell on the ground laughing….. laughing so hard until there were tears rolling down my face. I could hear people yelling at me to get up, but I didn’t care.. I knew in that instant, I found my new life. I felt alive again.
I’ve been paragliding for 12 years, flown in 13 countries and 9 different states. I’ve built a worldwide network of friends and “family” who support each other in meaningful ways. I recently started wondering what role paragliding has in other people’s lives, and began asking around. Not surprisingly, I’ve connected with others who’ve have had a similar experience in finding renewed interest in life through Airsport communities and Adventure.
I’m no psychologist, but I know something important happened to me and I owe my life to it. I’m also lucky I had some small fortune to spend on the activity. The financial barrier to entry is steep. First lessons and equipment can be $6,000 or more.
I am making this film to help other struggling veterans reconnect with joy, raise money for nonprofits that ease the barrier to entry and introduce motivated individuals to a new and exciting way of life through Airsport and Adventure.
If you haven’t donated yet, put yer mouse on that button right above and give it a click! Also be sure to tell your friends about it. If you don’t have a buck or two, you can really help by sharing this site with everyone!
check out more fun pics and stories on instagram @adventuretherapy101 and @weekendmobile