In 1957, the Soviet Union fired a shot that was neither missile nor warhead but resounded across the globe, ringing particularly clear to the United States.
In the barren steppes of the-then Kazakh SSR (modern day Kazakhstan), the Sputnik satellite was launched, marking the first time a man-made object was put in space but also, like a claxon, announcing the start of the Space Race, a new front opening up in the Cold War.
Alarmed but impelled, the United States was quick to react, launching its own satellite a year later but this game of anticipation and one-upmanship between the two superpowers was not one of restraint, with the bar constantly being set higher and higher, ad astra.
It was in this engagement, this rivalry, that near mythic figures were fashioned, their stories and feats becoming their own legends. Whether Yuri Gagarin, the Mercury Seven, Sergei Korolov or Chuck Yeager, the Space Race was human endeavour realised.
One such figure from this period was United States Air Force Colonel Joseph Kittinger. Tasked with testing whether a human being could survive bail outs from altitudes as high as 8,000 feet and above, the-then Captain was the principal jumper for Project Manhigh and Project Excelsior and it was in the latter that Kittinger created history.
On August 16, 1960, after two trial runs, Captain Kittinger, clad only in a pressure suit, with a specially designed parachute, ascended in an open gondola balloon to 102,800 feet, 31 kilometres straight up, high enough to see the curvature of the Earth.
Waiting for the captain was a bitterly inhospitable environment with extremely cold weather, the absence of atmosphere and the prospect of facing death owing to the impossible speeds that he would experience on jumping, facing g-forces, unconsciousness and the very likely scenario of a fatal ‘flat spin’.
Reaching the target height where even his instruments stopped working, Kittinger prepared for the jump despite a failure in a section of his pressure suit. As he jumped, the captain quickly accelerated close to 1,000 km/h, speeds which he could barely perceive for the lack of atmosphere.
Thirteen short minutes later, Kittinger was safe back on the ground and without fanfare or main street parades, had become the first man in history to jump from the edge of space, setting records for the highest jump, longest free fall and highest manned balloon ascent, the data of which helped to pave the way for modern aviation.
For 52 years, Col. Kittinger’s records remained unbroken; the idea of even trying to best them vigorously scoffed at and dismissed.
That is of course, until October 14, 2012.
Though not even born at the time of Col. Kittinger’s jump, Austrian Felix Baumgartner was perhaps, destined to carry on in the legacy of men such as Gagarin, Yeager and Kittinger. Starting from an early age, Baumgartner became a celebrated BASE jumper, notching record after record skydives and in 2010 it was announced that along with Kittinger and Red Bull he would attempt to break the record for the highest skydive.
Thus Fearless Felix, Joe Kittinger and the Red Bull Stratos team embarked on an ambitious and exacting mission, one that echoed the spirit of the Space Race.
On a clear October day in Roswell, New Mexico, U.S.A., the helium balloon capsule that was to reach the edge of space was prepped for an early morning launch as Baumgartner suited up in a custom pressure suit.
Boarding the capsule and launching, it took the Austrian daredevil nearly two and a half hours to ascend to the jump altitude of 128,000 feet. Years of training, two test jumps, countless press junkets and the veritable eyes of the world had all culminated into this moment as Baumgartner stood poised on the ledge of his capsule.
Saying pithily, “I know the whole world is watching now. I wish you could see what I can see. Sometimes you have to be up really high to understand how small you are... I’m coming home now,” Baumgartner saluted the capsule’s cameras and jumped, soon reaching a maximum speed of Mach 1.25. Hitting the ground a mere 10 minutes later, despite experiencing a spin during his free fall, Baumgartner broke all of Kittinger’s records save for the longest free fall and made new ones by becoming the first human being ever to break the sound barrier without using a vehicle, even going on to produce a sonic boom.
Having been on a worldwide tour ever since, Baumgartner has been widely hailed, being recently awarded the Laureus World Action Sportsperson of the Year Award.
In between his busy jet set schedule, the record breaking skydiver recounts that fateful day and speaks about his plans for the future.
Firstly we’d like to congratulate you on your record breaking jump and thank you for taking out time
Thanks for your interest!
While numerous reasons have been cited for why such a jump was to be attempted, scientific and so on, what did it mean to you personally?
I’m a very competitive person who loves parachuting and thrives on challenges, so I had wanted to attempt a significant jump like this for as long as I can remember. The fact that this particular challenge also held the potential to help improve aerospace safety for future generations made the motivation even higher.
But the timing had to be right — I needed to build up a lot of experience and expertise first. It took 20 years of progressively more difficult challenges to be completely ready for the mission we completed on October 14.
In the run up to the jump did you ever doubt it could be done? Did you ever doubt yourself? What kept you going?
I went through a period in my training where I hated wearing the pressure suit even though that suit is absolutely necessary to survive at the altitudes I was headed for. I’ve been told it’s actually common for pilots who have to wear pressure suits to feel uncomfortable in them. And I was no different — there’s a sensory deprivation that takes some getting used to.
I got over it by wearing the suit a lot to become accustomed to it and also by working with a psychologist who taught me some very simple methods to change my mindset if I found myself falling into a pattern of negative thinking.
More generally, a lot of our confidence as a team came from our test programme which was conducted in stages. With the success of each one of those “rehearsals,” from altitude chamber tests on the ground to stratospheric jumps at progressively higher altitudes, our confidence grew. We knew we had done our homework.
Another thing that kept me going, especially during delays, was the encouragement that I received in messages from people all over the world. That support meant a lot then and it still does today.
Could you explain what falling from 128,000 feet feels like? Also what were the moments immediately before and after the jump like?
Standing out there on that step really was humbling. The sky was perfectly black above me, and I could see the curvature of the earth below — something very few people have had the privilege to witness. But I couldn’t waste time, because I knew I had only about 10 minutes of oxygen on my back.
When I stepped off I was all business; I was very focused on finding out if a human could break the speed of sound. I picked up speed very fast but I couldn’t feel the air because the air density is so low at that altitude. That’s a strange feeling for a skydiver.
All of our skydiving skills are based on pressure: using air resistance to make adjustments and move in certain directions. For almost 35 seconds I couldn’t sense the air around me because basically there was none!
And then when I finally entered a thicker air layer I started spinning. Fortunately, I had trained hard for such a situation. I knew that my stabilization parachute would deploy automatically if the forces got too strong and that gave me confidence as I tried to correct the rotation with my body movements.
Eventually I was able to control the spin on my own, but it was tough. When I landed, well, I was relieved. And that’s also when I found out that I’d broken the sound barrier. I wasn’t absolutely sure that I’d done it until the ground crews told me that they’d heard my sonic boom.
What was it like working with Joe Kittinger? How integral was he to the jump? How important was he being your Capcom (Capsule Communicator)?
Joe Kittinger was very important for the project. Of course, he’s a legend in the skydiving world and in the ballooning world as well. But most of all, he was the only one who had done anything like what I was planning so he provided a lot of valuable information. He’s quite a guy and I have a lot of respect for him.
It was reassuring to have Joe’s voice in my ear the entire time and after working with him over all those years, he’s become like a second father to me. My girlfriend and I even travelled to the U.S. to celebrate New Year’s Eve with Joe and his wife. We’ll always be in touch.
Following the jump you announced that you’d be retiring. Is it even possible for someone like yourself to retire? Wouldn’t you have the urge to go at it again, setting new records?
I feel that we accomplished what we set out to do with Red Bull Stratos, including providing even more scientific data than we originally anticipated and now it’s time for me to move on. I hope that the next generation will take what we learned and expand on it.
For myself, I don’t know exactly what the next chapter of my life will hold but I’m the kind of person who is always looking for a new challenge — I don’t think I’ll ever stop having goals.
Right now, I’m very interested in pursuing another dream I’ve had since I was a kid: flying helicopters. Even before the jump, I had already worked as a commercial helicopter pilot and I’m really looking forward to flying in ways that will be useful to people.
Earlier this year I piloted athletes at the Paraski Europacup in Austria, for example, and I loved it. In many ways, I’m still absorbing the experience of Red Bull Stratos but I’m also curious to discover what the next months and years will hold for me.
The writer is an art critic based in Islamabad.
