Kiteboarding is not for the faint of heart. You are attached by a harness to a very powerful windcatcher. Kiteboarders have accidentally been launched into buildings, trees, and vehicles. I once watched a guy get dragged through brambles, under power lines, and then across a busy highway. When I was learning to kite board, I endured several face-first drags down the beach. Once I was yanked off my feet and just barely managed to dodge a large wooden bench with my head, followed by a barefoot dance through a field of sticker bushes which then popped my kite.
When I fall, I usually can keep my kite in the air and flying. If I really get worked by a wave and lose control, the kite will crash, but the inflatable, floating kite can be re-launched off the water—unless the kite has folded or wrapped inside out. In that case, I swim to shore, careful not to get tangled in the lines, straighten everything out, and start all over again.
Especially when the ocean is all whitewater psycho chop, there’s no other way to be out there than on a kite board. You will not survive long in that wild water unless you’re a dolphin or a bird—and a kite boarder gets to be both.
So off the wind we go. I’m on a skateboard with wings, jumping and gliding across miles of waves for as long as my arms and legs will last.
