This was one of the most exciting, fun times I’ve ever had. Flying! That is me hang gliding. It is like hanging from a kite. The technical term is a flying wing, designed for the capsule on re-entry upon completion of its flight into outer space. It also makes a fun sport for the daring. This was my first time. Note the instructor/handler.
I am not really the daring one. That would be my son, testing the limits of his abilities. One day I told his son of some of his childhood exploits. My grandson was suitably impressed. I told him about his young Dad being way up high in a cherry tree, riding a skateboard down a hill his very first time on the thing, and walking along the top of an 8 foot high wall. My grandson thought his Dad was a superhero!
I did include the part about the road rash when his Dad slid down the hill, and a passing motorist came to the door to tell me my son was bleeding on the road. I also included the story of the trip to the emergency room for stitches in his Dad’s head, after he fell off the wall into a bush. The climb up the cherry tree ended without injury, but it was a terrifying experience for me, with the tree in a narrow strip right next to the driveway.
My grandson asked how his Dad could do all those things. “He just kept trying until he could do it,” was my answer. If his Dad wanted up a tree, he kept trying until he did it. He might not be able to do it something the first time, but he kept trying until he did it. Nothing would stop him.
My grandson went home, and in a matter of days his Mom was calling me. My grandson had climbed a tree, and ripped his shirt. I was so proud. He is just like his Dad.