Surreal
O.k.,
Now that we're all friends, I'm going to tell you my story from earlier today. If anyone's out there, join in. Right now, I only have
a Naish AR-5 15.5M kite from a few years ago. I bought it used for next to nothing in great shape. I don't get too many opertunities to go out,
so when I had some time today, I decided to try it out in the 18-25 mph winds.
I rigged up on a deserted beach on our local Air Force Base. When the wind died (18mph), I launched it at the edge of the window. It was the
smoothest solo launch of my life. I "skiied" slowly over the point where I had laid my board, and flew the kite up into as neutral of a
position as I felt comfortable with. Even at only a few degrees left or right of overhead, it drug me left and right. I tried to squat, but it was
like sitting on a swing.
Next, a little gust came along and, ever so gently, lifted me off of this planet we call earth. I have never done acid, but it was like I had always
imagined that would be. The little ants on the beach went from up close and easily distinguishable to far away as they blended into the particles of
broken grass on the beach below. Then, like magic, they were back in my clear view as the gentle hand of God set me back to the same spot from where
I had lifted off.
It happened a few times is a row. I felt like an astronaut. As per my other post, I felt like singing "I can fly!" Each time I rose, I
simply steered the kite slightly to the side to kill some of the upward vector. I would then land back in wonderland.
When I would look up at my puppeteer, I could see that it held my strings like a master. Occassionally, it would thrash its wings as if it were angry
with the wind. It flew like an Eagle ready to strike at its prey. This is when it got surreal. I felt in control. My feet barely touched the sand,
and only occassionally at that, but I could command just how and when I might die. One more attempt to negotiate my way over to my board awaiting at
the ocean's edge. But it was not to be. I wasn't to get wet today. I relented. After what seemed to be hours, as I recolected each and
every event in my previous 42 years, I overpowered the pull against my chicken loop to manually release from my rig, as that has been, up until later
today, my only safety release available. The mighty wing that had pulled me from my stance on the beach instantly turned into a harmless streamer of
yellow and orange material, decorated with colorful strands of string. It spiralled ever so slowly in the raging wind. Once, twice, three times
around as the several hundred pounds of pull on my seat harness transferred to a simple tug on my wrist strap. Timing the crash just right, I moved
toward the kite just as it finished its last loop of the day. It settled harmlessly on the sand.
My senses returned. There was sound to be heard around me. I spent 44 seconds flying the kite, relived 42 years, aged 5, and lived to tell about all
of it.
It was awesome. Thank God I wasn't doing acid.
5 Knot John
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