MOAB – Rain turned the sandy flats adjacent to the Canyonlands Field Airport – where die-hard skydivers camp out before jumping with Skydive Moab – to a slick of mud that stuck to the bottoms of shoes and made cars slip and slide as they drove along.
The Saturday rains created a slight sense of worry. If the clouds failed to clear by Sunday morning, it would be unlikely that Fort Lewis College students Michaela Ferris, Roman Speegle and Jack Schuba – three members of the reincarnated FLC Skydiving Club – could make their first dives before heading back to school on Monday.
Ben Iverson, a licensed skydiver, FLC graduate and the club’s faculty adviser, tried to appear unbothered as he made turkey sandwiches by campfire light for dinner. But he was worried: Skydiving is his passion, and for years his dream had been to share it with other people, which is why he started the club in 2025. This trip was the first realization of that dream, and the rain clouds threatened this outing.
But for Speegle, a senior studying accounting and engineering at FLC, the prospect of having to delay his first jump did not seem to bother him that much. He was just excited to be out there and to be in a college club that would help him learn to skydive. More time on the ground meant more time to prepare.
“I’m ready,” he said. “I’ve been trying to run through most of the drills and the whole sequence from plane to ground in my head. I’m kind of glad we have time to try and practice, but hopefully the weather lets us jump. I have really high hopes that it’ll go great.”
The cold autumn wind blew in from the La Sal Mountains to the southeast, carrying rain. So, the club members climbed into their sleeping bags, curled up and went to sleep. In the morning, they hoped they would jump out of an airplane.
Collegiate skydiving has been around since the 1960s, according to the U.S. Parachute Association’s website, evolving from a means of transporting soldiers into combat zones in World War II to an organized D1 college sport, with national championships being held in Florida every year. When Iverson learned that fact, he knew he had to start a club at FLC.
“What drew me to the sport was the human desire to fly,” he said. “Everybody thinks about it. I just wanted to chase that natural instinct of wanting to fly through the clouds.”
This is actually the second incarnation of the FLC Skydiving Club, he said. Back in 2017, the club was started by Taylor Webb, but fell off because they were unable to find enough people with enough interest in skydiving to make the commitment, said FLC graduate Connor Bevel.
“It kind of died out because there weren’t any jumpers,” Iverson said. “And now we have a perfect opportunity to restart the club.”
So, he got to work. He proposed the club to the school, which enthusiastically agreed to its formation and helped fund it. If he could prove there was interest and get students to get their skydiving licenses, the school would secure him more funding and help empower members to start competing against schools like Georgia Tech and the Air Force Academy.
“Fort Lewis is awesome. They empowered me to start this club,” Iverson said. “I feel like a lot of colleges would be quick to say, ‘Nope, that’s too dangerous, it’s not happening.’ But Fort Lewis was like, ‘Let’s make this happen.’ And they gave me the resources to be successful in restarting the club.”
The next challenge would be convincing students to invest time and money – 25 jumps and $3,090 to get fully licensed, before buying helmets and parachutes, which can tack on another $5,000. Asking people to jump out of a plane flying 13,000 feet above the ground can be a tall order, Iverson said.
“It’s a super-intimidating sport,” he said. “You’re jumping out of an airplane. Enough said.”
But, as Iverson pointed out in the club’s first informational meeting on Sept. 8, skydiving is statistically safer than driving a car. According to the USPA, which collects data on skydiving fatalities, there were only nine deaths out of 3.88 million jumps in 2024, averaging out to 0.23 deaths per 100,000 jumps.
While skydiving is in no way completely risk-free, safety standards have improved since it became a widely available sport, and deaths continue to decrease. The USPA is regulated by the Federal Aviation Administration, and prospective skydivers must pass a series of rigorous written and physical tests to ensure they have what it takes to do it safely.
As for cost, Iverson said, becoming a licensed skydiver is quite achievable. Skydive Moab’s certification program is pay-as-you-go, meaning the $3,090 cost can be spread out over time. With Iverson being a licensed coach, students can get qualified instruction without leaving Durango. Additionally, parachutes are available for rent at Skydive Moab.
“I was a student, and every paycheck I would put $50 into a savings account,” he said. “When I finally had the funds, I booked my ground school and did my very first solo jump the next day.”
Iverson hopes he can offer students not only advice and technical instruction, but also provide them with an encouraging, friendly face to help make the process a little easier.
He needed to prove the club was viable by having students make successful jumps. That way, he said, he would get more funding to hire other coaches, buy parachutes for the club, and pay for food, gas and lodging when they eventually went to compete against other schools.
The first meeting concluded with notable interest in the club. About 10 students stuck around after Iverson’s presentation. By the second meeting on Sept. 24, when he ran through how a parachute works and how to deploy the it, four students came and signed up for their first jumps the next weekend.
The morning of Sept. 28 did not bode well for skydiving. Gray clouds hovered over the Utah desert, and it had rained through the night.
Speegle, Ferris and Schuba were cheery, and Iverson said a weather window was in the forecast. Bagels and coffee were served over a Coleman stove, camp was broken, and the four hopefuls slipped and slid in their cars over the muddy ground.
The three fell in with a group of other students to go over more safety protocols. To everyone’s relief, the clouds rolled away revealing blue skies and minimal wind.
Speegle and Schuba were scheduled to jump on the third flight of the day, followed by Ferris. Each of them had completed their tandem jump – in which they were harnessed to a professional skydiver. This time, they would have two instructors to make sure they safely pulled their chutes, but they were expected to jump, free fall and land on their own volition.
“I’m a little nervous” Ferris, a freshman studying business administration and to become a licensed pilot, said. “'But I have two people with me, so it can’t be that bad. I’m studying to be a pilot, and we’re taught to never abandon our planes. So this is a little different, but I’m excited!”
Finally, Speegle and Schuba loaded into the plane with 15 other instructors and students. The engine roared, and as they headed for the clouds, Iverson, smiling with relief that his students were able to do their jumps, drove to the landing zone.
The two would jump with their instructors from 18,000 feet in elevation, and in their 55-second free fall, they would accelerate to a terminal velocity of 120 mph. All the while, they would monitor their wrist-worn altimeters, watching for 6,000 feet above the ground, where they would pull their chutes.
Iverson shaded his eyes to watch the sky. Seconds went by, and suddenly the first chutes popped open and began making sweeping, graceful arcs through the clouds. Slowly, Speegle and Schuba descended and gracefully landed, grinning from ear to ear.
“It is just absolute sensory overload when you’re free falling,” Schuba said after his jump. “Next thing you know, the canopy goes up and it’s just pure bliss. You actually kind of get a chance to look around.”
“I was scared, so I was trying to go fast,” Speegle said. “I just had to relax, and then just let muscle memory take over. We practiced this for almost 24 straight hours, and so much of what I was doing was just based off that. I was doing it to get over my fear.”
For Iverson, seeing Speegle and Schuba land was watching a dream come true. Now that their first jumps had been completed successfully, it was on to earning the rest of their licenses.
“All the hard work I’ve been putting in the last few months – planning and marketing and insurance and all the liability – everything fell together perfectly for this weekend,” he said. “It’s heartwarming. I went through this exact same thing three years ago, and so to see them now go through – but supported by the school they attend – is pretty cool.”
The clouds returned soon after Speegle’s and Schuba’s jumps, grounding further flights for the day. But, Iverson said, Ferris was joined by Hayes and Kramer on Monday morning, when the three did their first solo jumps. And with that, the Fort Lewis College Skydiving Club rose from the ashes.
sedmondson@durangoherald.com
