Bungy Jumping In Las Vegas

The Psycho Elevator

by Broc Bradley

Publication Date: January 1999

I crawled toward the edge-it seemed simpler on the ground looking up. This tiny wood perch, barely three feet wide and three feet long, stands 171 feet in the air. I am trying to ease over the edge and grab a bar located underneath. Spaces left between the 2x6's are my handholds, as I nervously lower my body over the side. I can't look down.

Getting into this situation took little effort. Glenn "Woody" Woodard asked me a simple question, "How many pull-ups can you do?"

"'Bout 20," I lied. I knew I could probably eke out 20 if my life depended on it.

"Why?" I followed.

"Because your life may depend on it," grinned Keven Acosta.

"We call it the 'cliff hanger,'" goaded Woody

Cliff hanger, indeed, but without a cliff. There was nothing around except space and altitude. It was a tower with a platform, and a perch placed on the platform. Here I am, trying as gracefully as possible to get a hold of a bar under the perch, so I can hang there in mid air. I question my grip strength and my sanity, but I complete the task.

"Let go with one hand and wave," shouts Keven.

I let go for a fraction of a second and quickly re-grab the bar with both hands. From a normal chin-up bar, this wouldn't seem that difficult, but at 17 stories up, it's much harder.

"Do it again...I missed the shot," barks Keven.

Determined to capture a good photo op, I let go again, keeping my free hand in the air for about two seconds. My body starts to twist and I quickly re-grab the bar as the flash goes off.

"Did you get the shot?" I asked in a strained voice.

"NO! Your camera is taking too long to flash," yells Keven. He runs to reposition himself above me.

Woody starts a countdown, "Five, four, three, two, one" I let go, falling spread eagle away from everyone standing on the platform. My gut tightens and I grit my teeth-falling, falling, falling

At 37, I had grown stale from a domestic life. Responsibility had unraveled my Teflon suit that had protected me over the years from 30 skydives, 200 carrier landings, and aspirations of becoming a Hollywood stuntman (my high school fantasy job). My adrenal gland had not worked any overtime in nearly ten years. The time had come to blow the cheese out of my veins...

The bungy cord worked as advertised. My fall rapidly decelerated, transferring all the energy of gravity into the hundreds of latex strands that make up a bungy cord. But in the world of bungy, what goes down, must come up! All that potential energy stored in the stretched cord at the bottom, transfers back into kinetic energy, and rockets me skyward - that's called the rebound.

Once the oscillations dampen out, Woody-the jump master-lowers a rope line down to me so he can winch me back up to the platform. This particular jump involved a torso harness, so I never spent any time inverted. With an ankle harness, all the rebounding is heads-down. This can become uncomfortable, as your pounding heart and gravity push all your blood to your head.

Thanks to A.J. Hackett Bungy- Las Vegas, my veins were purged of all that "cheese" and the old adrenaline pumper was working once again. I was revitalized. However, the professionals at A.J. Hackett Bungy hadn't finished their work. The Doctors of Adrenaline were about to prescribe one more dose for yours truly, "The Psycho Elevator."

To find the origins of Bungy jumping, one will probably need some back issues of National Geographic. It was the native tribe of Pentecost Island in the South Pacific that first tied vines around their ankles and leaped from their primitive structures. The practice still continues today as a harvest ritual.

The Oxford University Dangerous Sports Club staged several jumps in the late seventies, including a jump off the Golden Gate bridge. However, it wasn't until 1987, when A.J. Hackett, a New Zealander, brought much attention to the sport by jumping off the Eiffel tower - modern bungy was born.

Today, the Hackett name is found on five bungy sites around the world. The Las Vegas site-next to Circus, Circus-is the only U. S. location. Mike Champoux is the Vegas General Manager for A.J. Hackett Bungy. He said the Vegas site has been in operation since 1993 and averages 11,000 jumps per year. The Hackett company just celebrated ten years in business in November with the Queenstown, New Zealand location opening in November 1988.

Woody prepped two other jumpers, Jason Holloway and Michael Campozzi, both from Las Cruces, New Mexico. I watched and snapped some photos. When the three of us each had a jump under our belts, Keven gave me a nod.

"We need to take off your torso harness," he explained. "Now go and sit over there [the jump prep area]."

"We've got something more for you," said Woody, with a toothy grin.

"What?" I nervously squeaked.

"The 'Psycho Elevator,'" replied Woody. "It's even more intense than the cliff hanger."

"How is that possible?" I asked.

"By jumping backwards, feet first, the platform will fall away giving a heightened sensation in your stomach-like in an elevator, only 100 times worse," explained Woody.

"Oh," I simply said.

This worried me. I was still coming down from my first jump. It felt like a game of Russian roulette. I had survived the first trigger squeeze only to do it all again. I looked over to Keven, who held my camera. He had a crazed smirk on his face. I was in-for-it! These guys were truly professional adrenaline doctors.

Woody finished lashing my ankles and I slowly shuffled backwards towards the edge. By now, the sun had set and the lights of the strip displayed their brilliance. The view was spectacular. The apprehension mounted.

"Lace your fingers behind your neck and look up," instructed Woody.

I reluctantly complied.

"Now move back a few more inches and I'll hold you steady," continued Woody.

The fear nearly overcame me. I may have to be pushed, I thought.

"Just hop back about a foot and make sure you look up," goaded the Woodster, as he began a quick countdown. "Five, four, three, two, one"

I jumped. Falling, I tensed. My body felt like a tube of toothpaste, squeezing from the bottom-up. I snapped from a feet down position to head down, as the bungy cord reached its static length. A primal yell (scream really) boiled up from the very core of my soul, not unlike those TV stereotype falls from a high-rise balcony. It must be a way for the body to deal with the stress that accumulates. Adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream and I blurt out an "Oh my God!" during the rebound.

I could not imagine a jump more intense. Keven assured me that when I come back, he'll have more tricks up his sleeve for me to experience.

I spoke at length with Mike, the GM, before my jumps and with Keven and Woody after my heart-pounding fun. I would be hard pressed to find a more professional and dedicated group of bungy operators and jump masters. Mike stressed the fact to thoroughly check out a bungy site before participating. "There are some operators who are in it just for a quick buck and don't have the proper training," emphasizes Mike. Personally, I feel it's A.J. Hackett Bungy for me, or nobody.

The Las Vegas site is open year around. Their Winter hours are: Sunday- Thursday 11:00 AM to 9:00 PM; Friday and Saturday 11:00 AM to 11:00 PM.

Summer hours are: Sunday-Thursday Noon to 10:00 PM, and Friday and Saturday Noon to Midnight. Phone: (702) 385- 4321 Web site address www.ajhackett.com.au or www.thevegasweb.com for a nice photo.