Very windy, beautiful, day at the local kite beach. Our local beach is not for the faint hearted, onshore wind, small launch zone, many hard objects downwind including trees, cars, buildings and power lines. After 15 years we are so used to it that it seems normal, so it takes a lot for us to get out of our chairs from our mid-afternoon beverage break. But stuff happens, less so than in the past, but still.
Lindsay shows up from Penticton, uninitiated in our ways, she joins us for a drink. First, a badly positioned kite gets hit with wind, whips around and wraps itself around a car about 5m from us: we laugh, nobody moves, Lindsay frowns. Second, CR, has managed (again) to rip his kite almost in half and is standing at the shoreline with it still flying which is incredible considering it’s fluttering like a bag: we laugh, nobody moves, Lindsay is perplexed. Third, kiter is coming in, kite straight up, standing, not getting lofted but screaming like a banshee. PH says “yeah when my kids scream like that I just ignore them” and I concur “yes, we can’t reward that kind of behaviour at this beach”. Lindsay looks at us and finally speaks: “you guys are fucking crazy”.
Now in our defence, having seen what we have seen, and assisted many, many people. We know when something is serious. Nothing serious happened. The kite on the car was fine. CR, was eventually given some attention from his brother, again. The girl screaming (for reasons that still elude us) with the Ocean Rodeo 10m Flite straight up, but stable, once onshore, was assisted. By the way, this kiter (never been here) asked me what kite size (10 or 7) to use not 30 minutes prior, and I said, “7 definitely 7”. She took out a 10.
But yes, we are fucking crazy.....see blog Marc Trips Out....