Who Are We?

Is There a “Typical” Skydiver?

Short answer: no. Longer answer: absolutely not—and that’s kind of the point.

People love to ask whether there’s a typical personality type in skydiving. The assumption usually goes something like this: wild adrenaline junkies, zero fear response, probably named something like “Tank,” and definitely allergic to office jobs.

That was more or less what I expected too when I started jumping.

I assumed the sport would be dominated by the same free-spirited archetype you find in surfing documentaries or extreme rock climbing videos—the people who own exactly one pair of shoes and somehow survive entirely on coffee and vibes. And sure, those folks exist. Every community has them.

But what surprised me most was how wrong that stereotype is.

Skydiving attracts a remarkably wide range of people—more so than almost any activity I’ve encountered. Yes, the sport tends to skew younger, mostly because gravity is less forgiving as you age. But we also have licensed skydivers who have been jumping for over 50 years and are well into their seventies. These are people who started skydiving before GPS, GoPros, or the internet telling them it was a bad idea.

Because of the legal realities of, you know, jumping out of airplanes, participants must be at least 18 years old. I’ve jumped with plenty of newly minted adults who celebrated their legal status by immediately exiting a moving aircraft from roughly 2.5 miles above the Earth. Totally normal rite of passage.

Educational and professional backgrounds? Equally all over the map.

You’ll meet people who never finished high school and others with doctorate-level education. I’ve jumped with IT specialists who hold multiple patents, attorneys who argue cases by day and defy gravity on weekends, educators, skilled tradespeople, and healthcare professionals—people who spend their workdays keeping others safe and their weekends voluntarily making questionable decisions involving airplanes.

And here’s the best part: none of that matters once you’re at the dropzone.

Skydiving is one of the rare environments where titles, résumés, social status, and political opinions are left firmly outside the gate. Nobody cares what you do for a living or what letters follow your name. Once you’re there, you’re just another human about to experience something extraordinary—and slightly terrifying.

The sport is deeply inclusive in a way that feels refreshingly genuine. It’s not performative. It’s not forced. It’s simply understood that everyone belongs because everyone is equally subject to gravity.

Skydiving doesn’t care who you are on the ground. It only asks whether you’re willing to step out the door.

In that sense, the skydiving community really is a dysfunctional family—loud, opinionated, occasionally questionable, but fiercely welcoming. And once you’re in, you’re in.

No labels required. Just bring a good attitude… and maybe a parachute.