Leaps of Faith : Bungee Jumpers Stretch the Limits of Daredeviltry

Secretly they gathered at dawn, a brash air about them, at a dirt lot next to the concrete arch bridge. But as launch time drew near, the 20 thrill seekers were getting edgy about hurling themselves over the metal railing with nothing but wrist-thin elastic ropes saving them from the rocky ground 130 feet below.

“This is insane,” cried one young waitress who moments before had boldly announced that she would be the first to jump.

“Why are we doing this?” asked a college student and onetime sky diver.

“I sure hope the lengths of the ropes weren’t miscalculated,” said a friend, whose gaze was fixed on the mammoth bridge on a back road of the Angeles National Forest.

Despite their fears, the daredevils willingly paid $79--now up to $99--to a company to make two giant leaps and join an elite group of psychological athletes who participate in the growing craze known as bungee jumping.

Already popular in Australia, New Zealand, France and Northern California, where tall bridges are plentiful, bungee jumping has found its way to the Southland as well, even though jumping from public bridges or overpasses can violate trespassing and public nuisance laws and no insurance company will cover the sport.

One of about six such organizations in the state, Nel’s California Bungee in Huntington Beach has successfully jumped more than 1,800 adventure seekers in its 18 months of operation.

“The number of calls I get from people wanting to jump is overwhelming,” said Ricco Nel, president of California Bungee and organizer of the recent weekend event. “It’s really catching on.”

As the sun crept over the mountaintops, Nancy Gorrell prepared to make the first jump of the day. The 24-year-old waitress from Los Angeles struggled with a case of the pre-jump jitters as Nel strapped three 40-foot bungee cords to her parachute-style harness.

“I have never been so terrified in my entire life, nor will I ever be more terrified. This is crazy,” she declared as she hopped over the railing and stood on the ledge.

A five-second countdown later, she flung her body from the bridge and plummeted face first toward the rocks and shrubs below, reaching 40 m.p.h. before the cords started to stretch and slow her descent. About 30 feet from the ground, the bungees rocketed her limp body skyward to about 80% of her original leap.

After several bounces, Gorrell was hauled back up to the bridge amid the shouts of applause of her friends.

“I couldn’t even scream,” she beamed. “I was too scared. All the way down I kept thinking, ‘What am I doing? What am I doing?’ You just spring and then twang. . . . It’s incredible,”

After Gorrell jumped, Scott Bergman, a veteran jumper and California Bungee employee, looked at the men in the group twitching nervously and reminded them that a female had gone first and that there was “no turning back now, guys.”

And so it went on this sunny weekend morning. Each jumper emerged with a different description of his or her harrowing brush with fate.

Geoff Todosiev, 25, of San Pedro came up from his jump and said: “I kept inhaling all the way down. I had no idea I had so much lung capacity. This was an absolute rush. It seemed like I came really close to hitting the bottom.”

While the sport’s popularity is growing rapidly in California, its origins lie in ancient rites of passage practiced in South Pacific countries such as New Caledonia and the New Hebrides. Natives would collect vines, weave them into long cords, tie them around their ankles and jump from tall trees or cliffs as a test of their manhood.

In this country, a form of bungee jumping was introduced in circus acts during the 1920s. It became an adventure sport in 1979, when five members of Oxford University’s Dangerous Sports Club, dressed in tuxedos with top hats, jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge.

The bungees, able to support 4,500 pounds, are similar to the cords used by the military for parachuting military vehicles.

Although there are no laws specifically against bungee jumping, there are trespassing laws that prohibit a person’s center of gravity from going beyond the railing of a public bridge or overpass.

This has caused bungee jumpers to find remote bridges, far from the scrutiny of police--unless they are part of the group, Nel said.

“I once jumped 15 off-duty police officers from L.A.,” he said. “They had a great time.”

However, Nel said he and his partners have encountered officers on the clock who told them to pack up their equipment and leave.

To avoid the trespassing issue, Nel said, he plans to start jumping people from a hot air balloon. At least one company in Northern California, Bungee Adventures, uses hot air balloons.

Another problem bungee jumping companies face is insurance: They have none.

“So far nobody wants to touch us,” Nel said. “They don’t realize how safe the sport actually is.” In the meantime, he has his clients sign liability waivers.

As far as most experts can tell, no bungee-related fatalities have occurred in the United States. There have been at least three such deaths in France, they said.

The worst injuries that Nel says he has seen are minor rope burns that occur when jumpers hold onto the cords or get tangled up in the lines. “We call them bungee kisses,” he said.

In his brochures and during his pre-jump instructions, Nel repeatedly stresses that “safety is our primary concern.”

Law enforcement officials, however, are concerned about the danger the sport poses to passing motorists, as well as to the jumpers.

“These people that attach themselves to elastic cords and jump from bridges could create quite a distraction for motorists,” California Highway Patrol spokesman Sam Haynes said. “I think it’s safe to say we’re opposed to it.”