It was windy today, NW at 18 gusty kts. It is still cold in Vancouver. The mountain that was so famously bare during the Olympics has snow again Our field still has remnants of the lake that occupied it for the winter and most of the rest is stinking mud. But, the sun was out and so were five intrepid buggiers; Drifter, Roland and his dad, Dusty and myself. We were even visited by a kite surfer.
The first event: Roland brought out his home brewed kite for its debut. No fancy pattern and the bridle still needs some fine tuning, but it flies quite nicely and Dusty, a quilter, was quite impressed with his sewing.
Second Event: Roland's father was flying my Libre 2.7 Vampir Race Pro. He had a few sessions with and said he was impressed with its power. He truly impressed with its power when a gust came through and it yarded him from the buggy and dragged him though about twenty five feet of puddle. He recovered the kite and was promptly dragged through twenty five feet of fetid mud. He was definitely Tide commercial material. Ed is a real trooper and still kept flying in the cold wind even though he was soaked from toes to nipples.
Third event: Rod, our visiting kite surfer, came in to perform some fluid levels maintenance leaving his kite parked on the small beach. When he got back from spending his penny, his lines were cut and stolen.
When he left it, there was a man with a small dog watching him.
Event four: Drifter, flying his three meter Reflex, is pulled out the back and up by one of the day's nastier gusts. After being pulled out he recovered with a graceful pirouette before dropping to his feet.
Event five: Roland is lofted by his home brew.
Event six: as Roland is lofted, Dusty is hit by the same gust and is also lofted. The kite is ripped from her hands and she is dropped like a rock spraining her ankle in the process.
Her kite collapses but is caught in a thermal and keeps rising. Dusty is lying in the mud as we go chasing after her kite, 3m Samurai, which is headed for the Fraser, the handles about forty feet in the air. Roland and I watch sadly as Dusty's kite sails off and finally lands half way to the Steveston breakwater - about forty meters offshore.
Dusty is in luck. Rod, our visiting kite surfer, is still hanging out. He says, "Keep an eye on it while I change back into my wet suit." We watch the incoming tide slowly drive Sammy up river towards Steveston's fishing wharves as it slowly sinks lower and lower. A couple of fish boats go by cutting their thottle so as to not suck the kites in their props. The intrepid Rod paddles out into the river and catches up with it just before it sinks. While I, on Rod's suggestion, take Dusty to the rivers edge to soak her ankle in the Fraser's icy water, he even untangles the kite lines.
Rod, if you are out there, you are the best.
As for me, I had some nice kiting; ate a bit of mud; and spent the day with some great people.

S

Sounds like quite the adventurous afternoon. great to see that Rolands dad is in on the fun now. i have been following your posts about this young man.

Good on Roland's dad for not binning your kite too but WTF with the old bastard cutting the lines?!? I'd be back every day till I caught the old wanker and gave him a piece of my mind
Good on Rod too

Sounds like good people and fun times. Hope Dusty's ankle is better soon. I hate sprains.
The cutter should be found and charged for replacement. Why just steal the lines? nasty Bast@#$.

OUCH !

Kind of glad I passed on yesterday.
I'll be out this afternoon with a new friend to fit in to the fold ! I think he is more interested in the water but I so enjoy turning folks on to their 1st fly ! :cool2:

Please tell Dusty I am thinking of her and hope she recovers fast!