flexagon | Wings, not very high over uncountable grains

Impressions from the first half of hang gliding camp:

When I saw that my roommates all had male names, I had visions of becoming the den mother to a handful of young collegiate dudes. This... has not happened. I, at almost 48, am the youngest, as well as lightest and most female. I am, in short, closer to being "the pet". One guy here is 69 and I likely remind him of his freaking daughter. All the dudes are good roomies though -- they are organized, they buy groceries etc.

I almost packed correctly, by accident. I was right about packing lightweight long sleeves, but I expected to be slightly chilly and in fact it's effing hot on the dunes. However, the sun is so intense that one seeks cover.

We spent the first morning just running with the glider, switching our grip on it as it lifted itself up from our shoulders, then pushing up its nose ("flaring") to stop it. This lesson made sense once I realized we were launching and landing it. In the afternoon we actually flew, not too high, with an instructor each holding on to a 10-foot tether that attached to a wingtip.

On the beach that first night, I saw nine pelicans flying in formation, which I'd never seen before.

The "live oak" trees here spread out a great deal horizontally and are perfect for climbing. Unfortunately, their bark is perfectly grippy exactly until it crumbles, at which point... well anyway, I'm okay.

I have "hollow bones" -- no, not really, but it means the glider wants to fly when I'm on it. Wants to fly a little bit too soon. Doesn't want to stay on the ground, as if I'm a a bit lighter than I really am. When we practiced handling the glider (on the ground!) in high winds on Tuesday, the 130-lb instructor was able to keep it on the ground -- barely -- and I could not at 137lb. He gave up on teaching me anything, held on to the nose wires and flew me in place, like a kite, just to amuse everyone.

The Fjallraven technical pants I bought for this trip were absolutely worth it and the right thing to be wearing. I will wear them on all hikes and to all amusement parks forever. I'm generally covering up a lot more than the dudes, and am only dealing with ONE painful patch of sunburn as a result.

Walking in the dunes has given me a whole new respect for the Fremen. Not only is it hard work, on some sand it really is possible to walk just right (flat-footed, distributing the weight) so that the sand is less disturbed and one doesn't sink in. Hopefully nobody can see me fantasizing about being Zendaya, as we trudge up the hill yet again.

After the first cold night, I bought a cheapo fleece blanket from the clearance shelf of TJ Maxx. Worth it.

First day: ewwww, there is sand in the bottom of the shower, ugh, how! Third day: of course there is sand, sand is what there is, sand is everywhere; all is sand. Big deal.

Today, third day, we had dinner super late because one of the guys got it into his head to grill and there wasn't much urgency in getting started. Then another guy decided to do the drive-through liquor place just for fun, and now I am utterly felled by a can of local cider and a LARGE piece of seared local tuna.

I understood the glider, as a kite, much better today. We have just been doing these tippy-toe ostrich-style runs down the dune with the glider partly carrying our weight, learning control over the thing, and to be honest this is almost as fun as actual flying because it feels the way that it feels to run in a dream. Big floaty steps. But the more I hold it, the more I practice standing still or carrying it or holding its wires and flying it like a kite, the more it turns into... an acro partner, counterbalancing.

It's amazing how much there is to learn about wind, air movements and layers, etc. Fluid flow in general has always fascinated me but I never have been so aware of moving, all the time, through rivers and eddies of air. I hope nobody will be shocked if I come home with a sport kite? I think I might need a sport kite, after learning so much.