As Dave circled us, riding higher and higher on the thermal drafts, we could hear him giggling like a schoolgirl.
Now his buddy was itching to get up there too.
“So…you wanna launch me?”
“Um…hmmm…um…”
“Ha! No problem. It’s not very windy. Can you at least help me get strapped in and over to the platform?”
“Sure!”
Chris and I held the wingtips as he clipped in, and then the three of us walked the awkward contraption over to the platform. After a quick pre-flight check on the cables and mount points, he breathed deeply and kicked off into the nothing. Like Dave, the kite immediately rose into the warm, blue sky, circled back, and he yelled down a big “thank you!” from above.
And then they were off — over the great, green plain below and out towards the blue coast in the distance. Soaring and gliding along the thermal updrafts that took them 100s, if not a thousand feet higher. Then a swoop down only to start the slow, circular rise once more. Rising above the mountain top and then dipping down below.
We stood and watched for a good 20 minutes. This was real human flight. In that moment, I felt immense gratitude for catching a fleeting glimpse of why they were so hell-bent on getting into the air, no matter the cost.
I was mesmerized. The feeling was profound.
And then I saw the car, which yanked me back to reality. Would we make it?
