The pilots have been antsy on launch….

Paraglider Pilots tend to get antsy when they don’t get to fly. The last 3 days Timbis, Bali’s “ultra consistant” on-everyday paragliding site, has not been on. Light winds have been torturing us. All the pilots sit on launch trying to put on a good face. Ah, it will be good tomorrow, at least this place is beautiful, blah, blah, blah. And the place IS beautiful. 300ft coral limestone cliffs give way to the blue green Indian Ocean. Reef streaks out to the breaking waves for two hundred yards. Temples dot the ridge line. Dugongs troll the shallows behind the reef. Seaweed farmers toil at low tide.

But without the wind you cannot fly. Made, one of the Balinese that helps out on launch spreading and folding winds, running retrieves and launching the unprepared, approaches us. His English is as limited as our Bahasa Indonesia but “para-waiting” is a part of his vocabulary and he uses the term without any hesitation. He knows what it means.

We have been para-waitng for three days. Every paraglider is quite good at it. If you paraglide you also para-wait. It’s just how it goes. The theory goes, you have to be there to fly. So when the conditions aren’t right, you don’t just go do something else, you wait. If you do leave you will surely be tormented with the stories of how good it was after you left. So, we have been para-waiting….For three days….That’s extreme by any measure.

Today seemed like more of the same. Light winds on launch. This has been killing us. There are a couple of day trips on our list. But, we’re in this pattern. You have to be there to fly. If we leave now it’s gonna be good when we leave. It’s a head trip. Every pilot knows it. So we wait all day. Will it really be FOUR days. It’s almost unbearable. but then it happens. A puff. The wind is picking up. Give it some time. Let it firm up. It could just die again. No, it’s really coming up. Grab the gear, pre-flight. yeah, it’s good.

We soared on day four. The loveliest evening flight. All that beauty sparkled in the golden hour light. The lift was light but enough. The sky was painted with gliders. Every pilot giddy to fly. A rainbow formed in the east. Children splashed in the ocean and we soared. I was determined to consume every minute of it making long passes on a mile of ridge. Smooth and wonderful. I had to have every moment of lift and ride it until there is no more landing on the beach at twilight.

The seaweed farmers finished their day’s work and the pilots have had their day.