I am officially a kiting addict. After my struggle to get on top of the @#! kiteboard, while I am still a novice, I am starting to feel it rather than just doing it. The feel of the power of the wind in my kite transferring itself through my body, through the board to the water. It’s a feeling of perfect concentration, attuned to my senses, a moving meditation that I have only found in a few sports in my life. Swing dancing (at its best) was one. Climbing (at my best) was another.
When I lived in Colorado I had a lot of friends who skied or snowboarded – Carol among them. I have never understood the interest in sports where ones fingers and toes get cold so I always abstained. Still, they used to say:
There are no friends on powder days.
Meaning, of course, that on a good powder day it was everyone for themselves, in a frantic attempt to pack as much time on the hill as possible.
Well, when we are near a kite beach, with good wind, from the right direction, without squalls (it is a wind sport after all):
There are no friends on kiting days.
We prefer to kite with a group – much more fun – but now that I have reached the same level of addiction as Carol we are the first dinghy at the beach and we don’t leave until our legs are shaking. We have 6 solid, long, exhausting days of kiting since we have arrived in Mangareva at an amazingly beautiful location (Motu Tauna – more on that separately) and we have another 3+ days of kiting (as forecast) later this week.
Life. Is. Good.