Blown Away

What I enjoy more than anything in the world is sitting on top of a nearby 300-foot-tall rock face cliff, with my feet dangling over the edge. A strong ocean gust buffets my loose-fitting jacket while it winds its way around my body on an endless journey around the globe. What draws me to this spot day after day isn’t the mesmerizing seascapes or the spectacular sunsets, it’s the birds.

Sea Gulls, Osprey, Hawks, and the occasional Eagle soar majestically overhead while I’m forced to remain earthbound. Their very swoop, dive, and gliding motion fascinates me. They make flying look so simple. A few flaps of their powerful wings to lift off the ground, then these big birds simply extend those same wings and ride the wind. What a sensation it must be to float over the earth, carried by the invisible element we call air.

I got to experience a modified version of flight several years ago when I had the opportunity to fly a glider. My heart pounded with excitement as the tow plane dragged my instructor and me off the ground and, after reaching two thousand feet, I heard the tow cable release with a loud snap, and we were launched into the sky. I picked up some of the flight basics from my instructor quickly, then he sat back and gave me command of the controls. It’s difficult to describe the level of freedom I felt as I glided from thermal to thermal, gaining altitude, changing directions, watching birds soaring along off my wingtips. This is what I was made for.

As the old saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and when my hour was up, the instructor reclaimed the controls and brought us in for a landing. This, unfortunately, was a unique experience because I would never have the money to get a pilot’s license. Instead, I was relegated to sitting on the edge of this cliff watching the birds, or so I thought until today.

It always amazed me the way situations could unexpectedly change like the wind. That phrase must have been invented to describe what happened to me today. The trip to my favorite place was the same as usual, except for the extra accessory I brought along, a hang glider. The common-sense half of my brain has always been against these overgrown kites.

‘Who in their right mind would jump off a cliff and hope a piece of cloth and some aluminum pipes would save them,’ while the risk-taker side said, ‘Go for it, you only live once.’ My risk-taker side won. I reached my usual spot and carefully assembled the kite, double-checking each connection. I wasn’t going to be known as the dumb ass that died because he didn’t assemble his equipment correctly. The only thing I couldn’t double-check was myself. I had taken the classes and watched the videos, but what I didn’t know was, did I have the guts to jump off this cliff and fly?

I strapped on the safety harness, walked to the edge of the precipice with the kite on my back, and stopped dead. As much as I wanted to join the Eagles, did I have the resolve to take that final step? It turns out the decision wasn’t mine after all. A strong updraft rushed up from the base of the cliff, lifting me off my feet and over the edge. Now I know what a baby bird feels like when its mother pushes it out of the nest for its first flight. Not only did I have to fight to gain control of the kite before it smashed into the rock wall alongside me, but I had to struggle with my fear of dying.

Once again, the wind took control, and I felt myself rise towards the clouds. I was flying! I had finally achieved my lifelong dream of soaring with the eagles. As the wind pushed me out over the water, I had only one question left: “How the hell do I land this thing?”