It’s the holidays and with my 2 little girls, in-laws coming to visit and usual demands to bring home the bacon I haven’t had any time to get out to paraglide. This was a rare day. I checked my charts, several positions had been closed out at profit locks (BTW: that's good). There were no new trades to make, no clear patterns forming, and it was only noon. I checked the weather report at Torrey which it said it was blowing 10-12. OK. Done working for the day.
First flight out the air was really good. I got some great height right away but I couldn’t hear Gabe. My radio battery was dying. Makes sense, it’s been nearly a month since I’ve flown. Who knows when I charged it last.
Second flight I lost some altitude in my turns that I was unable to recover. Actually that’s what was wrong all day. Gabe kept saying to wait for the lift and then turn. I waited but it was never there. I ended up going way south. The good thing about the south trip was when I landed in the north wind I was right at the trail head.
Third flight was way north. I kept thinking as I was coming down, should I turn and land with the wind to my back? I just didn’t want to do the long hike to the trail. I ran to the traIl head on the beach with my back pack, a good 15 minute jog. I wanted to get one more ride in even if it was a sled ride.
When I got back on top the conditions were great. It was about 4PM and the sun was just starting to descend on the Pacific. Gorgeous scenery. On the north rim there were some photographers and models doing a shoot in the “magic hour” sun. I am fairly certain I got in some of those shots. The shoot was for running gear.
There were a lot of folks up top waiting for the sun to set. There's a parking lot just north of the gliderport that attracts a lot of folks looking for some beauty, some time to breath. I noticed a couple with arms around each other in deep sadness. Were they breaking up? Had someone died? Who knows. I do know that I was part of the beauty they needed to get over it.
I had a long ride on my last one but just couldn’t get the lift I needed to land on top. As I descended I rode closer to the ridge than ever before. I’m starting to really understand when happens when I turn, where there is usually some lift and what to expect. At one point I approached a spire that comes up from the bottom of the ridge. There’s a fairly large space between it and the ridge, perhaps enough to fly though. I thought if I went between the ridge and the spire I could get more lift as I’d be closer to the ridge. I passed. I’m not good enough yet to make those calls.
This time I wanted to get as close to the trail as I could. When I was beyond the point of no return for getting lift I turned around and decided to land with the wind to my back. I came down fast and hard but ran my ass off and actually pulled it off, though without grace. Was it worth it? I can’t really say. I may do it again and I may get hurt. My wing landed in some crap on the beach that turned its virgin white cells a nasty brown. I guess we’re both evolving.
My last climb up the hill was no meditation. I was exhausted. Very rewarding though physically. I needed that. The sun set over the ocean as I made it to the top. Gorgeous reds and oranges supplied mostly by LA smog that drifts south this time of year. The air pollution in southern California is awful. I can’t believe people don’t make a bigger deal out of it.
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