I was out all this w/e at the beach, and I think I found the perfect plan. Come out to the beach early, have the entire beach to myself, low tide, good winds, can't complain. When everyone else comes in the afternoon, the tide's high and many kite-in-tree accidents can happen. Two kites tore yesterday when they slammed into the trees, and today a friend's harness buckle came off and sent the entire kite flying into (thankfully) a bunch of low-lying trees.
As for me, I've once again returned with war wounds. My little bro was just commenting that everytime I go kiting, I come back with a different set of afflictions. Yesterday was uneventful except for having to self rescue to avoid trees. I guess it was a little painful kiting also coz I was hungover. haha. I think I sat at the beach for a good 15 to 20 mins just staring at my kite and wondering if I'd be able to launch.
Today I found my groove again (my mojo's been missing for the past few weeks). Word of the weekend: relax. I was going upwind today on my fanatic and I can kite with only one hand on the bar. I'm not 100% everytime, but it's getting there. At some point though, part of my equipment came out and did a pendulum swing right into the bone jutting out on the inside of my left foot. Bleeding, big bruise, and damn syncope (a condition that my dad and I share.... almost blacked out in the water). Thankfully I was near the sand bar so I got some noob to land my kite.
Oh, and I'm planning to wear sunglasses for the next few days as much as I can. It's called... sunburnt corneas. I have finally bought my first pair of floatable, polarized sunglasses. So if my eyes look red and teary, yes it's true, I was dumped this weekend. At least that's a more dramatic story than the truth, right?
Funny thing at the beach today was, we saw remnants of an Indian burial ceremony. There were lots of colourful flowers, coconuts, circles and white chalk drawings with pot pourri placed in the middle (I'm sure this is NOT the PC word, but I'm not sure how else to describe it). And hmm, they drove some wooden stakes into the sand. I'm not sure if the stakes and the burial ceremony were linked, but both made it extremely dangerous for kiters. Now everyone's fighting for beach space. Families and children, fishermen, kiters, windsurfers, and the Indians sending their loved ones off to the next world.
As I look at the random tan lines on my body, I recall the famous words of Baz Luhrmann (that imho hold much truth in them): If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
Some progress with my new idea. More word when I know more. Maybe later this week.
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