“How does it affect you when you’re risking your life before breakfast on a regular basis?”

But while there are thousands of three-minute Youtube clips out there, there are very few – if any – that dig deeper: Is there more to this than thrill-seeking? What is it that really motivates people to take up the sport? And how does it affect you when you’re risking your life before breakfast on a regular basis? It’s these questions that The Exit Point, a new short film focussing on Sam and his friends, seeks to answer.

Sam Hardy’s journey into wingsuiting started young. “This guy called Tim Emmett came to my college when I was 16 and spoke about it. I thought it was unbelievable, and I ended up doing my skydiving course a year later.” A born athlete (“I was a competition climber and I was on the UK whitewater kayaking team too,”) Sam moved naturally from skydiving to BASE jumping. The progression wasn’t a quick one though. “You have to start with skydiving because you need to learn to fly your body,” Sam says. “Then it’s suggested that [you] need a minimum of 300 skydives before [you] even consider coming to BASE.” But slow progress is good progress, according to Sam. It’s what can make the difference between life and death.

The comparison seems like an apt one. As well as the gradual accumulation of skills, the incredible reflexes required to pilot a wingsuit safely are not dissimilar to those needed by the top drivers. F1 drivers and wingsuiters are even clocking similar speeds – the highest speed ever recorded in a Formula 1 race was 369km/h. The fastest ever wingsuit flight was 363km/h.

However, while modern Formula 1 drivers are protected by roll cages, crumple zones and the myriad of other safety measures that have been developed over the years, wingsuiters have very little in the way of protective gear. “This is still very much a pioneering sport,” says Sam. He’s not wrong – wingsuits have only really been around since the late 90s. “And because it’s not old yet, it’s high risk,” he continues. If anything then, wingsuiters are more like the F1 drivers of yesteryear, the Jim Clarks or Juan Manuel Fangios – trailblazers who are trying things for the first time. “It can be done safely”, Sam says, “but like anything, if you’re pioneering the sport there’s risks that you have to take sometimes.”

This is, Sam says, something you simply have to accept. “I’m willing to pay the price,” he says. “I accepted that way before I started.” While he doesn’t like to dwell on death, neither he nor the other jumpers interviewed in The Exit Point are shying away from the risks, or pretending it couldn’t happen to them. It would be hard to, when the statistics show just how dangerous their chosen sport is.

Since records began in 1981 there have been 291 recorded BASE jumping fatalities. The list, which is publicly available on the Blinc Magazine forum, includes many wingsuit pilots and jumpers who were at the top of their game – or “current” in BASE jumping parlance. Celebrated names like National Geographic’s Adventurer of the Year, Dean Potter, and ski-wingsuit-BASE jump pioneer Shane McConkey are on there. As is Mark Sutton, the man who played James Bond at the opening ceremony of the London 2012 Olympics. Yet for every Jim Clark, who died tragically young, there’s an equivalent to Juan Manuel Fangio – a multiple champion during motor racing’s most dangerous period who nonetheless lived until the ripe old age of 84.

Keeping a bit in reserve is “the one rule of thumb that I fly with. And I feel it’s keeping me… well, let’s say safe, rather than alive.” Sam laughs, and it’s obvious that even with all his precautions he is all too aware that it would only take one small mistake for him not to be – a point that was hammered home during a jump last year. “It was a bit of a reality check”, he says. “I just thought: OK, this is like the universe giving me a little bitchslap and saying ‘you’re good, but you need to bring that throttle back a tiny little bit.’”

Sam and his good friend Nathan Jones were out in Ethiopia working on one of the charitable initiatives they support as part of their Project BASE foundation, and jumping to raise awareness of the cause. Conditions were perfect and Sam was feeling good as he went through all his pre-flight checks. But as he pushed off the cliff, something went wrong. He hadn’t pushed out far enough. “Before I hit the wall, all I told myself in my head was, ‘brace for impact’ because I knew I was going to hit it. I ended up clipping my right foot at about 80 metres down. [At that point] you’re starting to travel at around 60-80mph [100-130km/h] zone. It twisted me sideways, put a hole in the suit and it went unstable…”

Plummeting towards the ground at high speed, the only thing that saved Sam was his years of training. “I always look back and I’m thankful for the fact that I’ve put so much work and time into flying the suits, and doing the right progressions to get to that point,” he says. Years of hard work and preparation meant that “you no longer have to think about how you do it, you just instinctively”. And when you’re flying wingsuits at this level, there is literally no time to think.

“From when we jump off to the impact on the ground is five seconds. Basically what that means is you have to get the suit flying in five seconds. Anything under seven seconds is technical, five seconds and below is hardcore. You need your shit dialled. So to jump off, hit the cliff, collapse the suit and start flying… Nathan said to me if that was anyone else apart from you they wouldn’t be here.”

Psychological studies back this up – recent research has shown that the kinds of people who are drawn to BASE jumping are rational thinkers, not natural risk takers. Far from being ignorant of the dangers they tend to be excellent at evaluating and assessing them. The research suggests they tend to be good at coping with high-stress situations in other aspects of their lives too. This is something Sam attributes directly to jumping. “It’s unbelievable how much it changes you,” he says. “Everything you do is easier afterwards. Dealing with emotions, with disappointment, your mentality is very strong.” Jumping creates a bond too, a feeling of community. “Specially within my friendship group, the closeness of us, we call each other our family.”

“When people ask: ‘What’s it like?’ I’m always like: ‘It’s like air yoga.’ I get serenity from it”

As to what his actual family think? There’s a poignant passage of The Exit Point where Robson interviews Sam’s mum and dad. You might think that his parents would be horrified to see their son pursuing such a dangerous (not to mention financially insecure) path in life. But having heard him explain it, and watched him jump themselves, they are entirely supportive.

“The thing is,” says Sam, “with the BASE jumpers I know, is that all these people are actually living. When people ask: ‘What’s it like?’ I’m always like: ‘It’s like air yoga.’ I get serenity from it, and at the end of the day when I land on the ground the stoke level is so high, I feel alive. It’s the closest thing to feeling euphoria.”

Of course hearing Sam speak, in person or on The Exit Point, doesn’t explain what motivates each individual wingsuiter. But it does give you a much better understanding of who some of the people behind these superhuman exploits are. They’re not crazy, they’re not nuts. They’ve made well-informed choices. In fact, they’re totally rational people. People who are having the time of their lives.

Dave Robson’s incredible short, The Exit Point, is out now. Order it on iTunes, Google Play or XBox