I love canopy time so much. Shared air time with birds of prey only yards away, flown down into darkness after sunset freefalls, and witnessed snow capped peaks between my feet at 12,000 feet. It’s hard to believe I started on a big docile 288 sq ft Manta parachute as a student and ended up doing my last 200 jumps on a Typhoon 120. That thing was so small it looked like a handkerchief over my head. But along with the extreme performance characteristics came the ability to self induce line twists if you were too heavy on the toggles. Since 1990 or so, vastly more people started dying under what were perfectly good canopies upon opening, because they were jacking around and doing hard turns below an altitude at which they could get a reserve out safely. Self induced line twists, inadvertent downwind landings, impacts with objects or terrain at high speeds. If everything happens for a reason I can maybe owe my survival to middle age to the fact that my rig was stolen just as I was about to become a first time father lol. Good memories, but definitely had my share of near misses and a few high speed malfunctions that I thankfully kept my wits about me to survive. A few friends were lost or really messed themselves up along the way. Mostly under perfectly good parachutes.