Synopsis
May 2010. The day after my cancer operation, Herbert visits me in the hospital. He seems nervous. Somehow wants to get something off his chest, but obviously doesn’t know how. In the end, he crawls into bed with me and says: I don’t only jump out of airplanes. I look at him questioningly. I also jump off standing objects. From cliffs and things. On that day, I find out that the man I have fallen in love with is a BASE jumper (BASE is an acronym for BUILDINGS, ANTENNAS, SPANS and EARTH).
Herbert says: BASE jumping means a lot to me. Can you live with that? I would rather give up jumping than you. I don’t hesitate for a moment. I will be afraid every time he drives off with his parachute, but I have to let him go. You cannot rob someone you love of his passion.
August 4, 2010. Three months later Herbert is dead. On a jump from Yellow Ocean in Lauterbrunnen, he loses stability and is still able to open his parachute but crashes frontally into the rock face. His best friend and BASE coach, Andreas Dachtler, jumps after him and finds him at the base of the cliff buried under his parachute.
My thoughts turn in circles and won’t leave me in peace. I’m trapped by my own anger. Anger towards him, the sport, and sometimes towards the place itself. I want to learn more about the BASE scene and rediscover Herbert’s passion for the sport. I want to understand, forgive and learn. And in the end, maybe I will even become a bit more courageous myself.
In my search for answers, I drive back to the place in Lauterbrunnen where the accident happened and Andreas introduces me to the world of jumpers. During the day I accompany them on their jumps, in the evenings we talk about life and death. In spite of a number of bitter setbacks – like when a video of the fatal jump suddenly appears – within the course of a year, I learn the most important lesson of my life: No one can transcend death, but whoever has the courage to “jump” can conquer the fear of dying. And that does not only apply to jumpers. BASE jumping becomes a metaphor for life’s challenges that one must confront, and the realization that sometimes jumping is the only way forward. This is how – in Switzerland’s Death Valley – I slowly find my way back to life.