Jungee Bumping

On Monday, the 19th, Josh and I made a 2 hour bus ride from Seoul to Jecheon, where we hailed a cab to Cheongpung Land, another 20 minutes drive up through winding mountains. We arrived and entered the first building we saw.
There were men wearing orange "staff" shirts, harnesses in hands. They pointed us toward a desk to our right. There we received greetings from a man who took our names and had us go back to the harness dudes. They gave us a plastic container to empty our pockets into (like what they have you do at the airport).
Then they had us step on a scale. I weigh 77 kg. One man held a harness open for me to step into, which I did before he tightened it around my waste. He had me sit in a chair, where two other guys wrapped my calves tight with additional leg harnesses. They instructed me to tie my shoes in double knots (sort of instructed, they didn't speak much English). The man from the front desk came up to me: "If you give up, remember, you will not be famous."
On the elevator that took us up, a Muzak Beethoven piano concerto played. The elevator went up and up and up and finally stopped. Josh and I followed the staffer dressed in orange who led us out on the long plank. There awaited two more staffers who didn't speak much English. I could feel the plank swaying in the wind. One of the staff members shook his hand at some seagulls perched up there, and they flew away.
"You first." A staffer was pointing at me. He had me sit in the first of two plastic chairs at the front of the short-walled plank. I thought that Josh would go first, but that was not the case. After one minute of glancing at the pool below, at the beautiful lakes on the horizon, and back to the pool, they had me get up, "come."
They opened a gate that blocked off a mini-plank short of 3 meters in length. "Take steps," they said, and I inched closer, closer, "another step, another" they said.
They were trying to tell me to put my feet halfway over the edge when I was only 1/3 the way over, then they called me back, "come, come." They shut the gate just as the tower began to shake.
The tower not only suspended Korea's longest bungee cord (a 62m jump), but a group bungee swing as well, which had just begun swinging when I was trying to jump off of the tower. Finally, the tower stood still again, the gate reopened.
One of the workers showed me how far I should step out, using a thick beam in the floor as an example. I mimicked him, first over the beam, then out on the plank. "stand up," the two guys told me, and I did. "raise arms." I did. "okay,now we count 'five, four, three, two, one,' then you go".
I tried not to think, just listened to them. They counted down. I got into my mode where I don't think about what I'm about to do, just know that pretty soon I'm going to do something. When they said "one," I said it along with them, then I took a little hop and next thing I know I'm falling.
On a rollercoaster ride, you feel the resistance of the track, you have that reassurance of being connected to something on the ground, something is holding you. I was waiting for that semi-comfortable feeling, and when it didn't come after a second, I started flailing my arms and legs and screaming like a wuss.
The cord caught, and I started yelling and heard applause from the crowd watching. The cord bounced and bounced and spun around many times. I hung upside down the entire descent, the blood filling my head. A man in a boat took my hand finally, and I could stop spinning physically. He took me ashore. Josh was more graceful, he yelled but there were no flailing arms and legs, he just dove off the plank. I bought and drank a Coke afterwards, which I tasted again at the busstop."