I have always wanted to jump from an airplane and take a ride in a hot air balloon. I haven't done the former because I'm a chicken. I haven't done the latter because ... no good reason.
Once years ago - like early 80's - when I was young and idiotic enough to not be such a chicken, I came perilously close. I was out drinking with a bunch of friends that included my work friend, Peggy and her husband who's name I do not remember. We went late into the night with lots and lots and lots to drink and wild fun and conversation. Along the way, somehow my desire to parachute out of a plane came up. Peggy's husband piped up "Well, hey, I've got a pilot's license and a parachute and a plane... and time tomorrow morning! How about I swing by and pick you up about 10ish?"
I allowed as how that would be FABULOUS!!!! And that's how we left it at the end of the night/morning. Until I woke up the next morning. With a major case of WTF-itis. I called an cancelled.
I have always wondered if we would have gone through with it. Surely he wouldn't have taken up someone who had never done it before and just dumped 'em. Surely. But... I will never know.
I did do parasailing once and it was wonderful and amazing and beautiful and, if I ever run into another place that offers it up, I'll totally do that again anytime of the day or night. But parachute... probably not.
I do love hot air balloons. I love seeing them and I'd love to ride in one. Every once in a while I look up various balloon festivals and toy with going. And I never do. Mostly inertia-itis for that one.