Thursday, November 08, 2012

Chronic Affliction

My persistent and long-standing condition is no secret: most of my friends know that I am a parapatetic. As opposed to the earthly burden of the more mundane peripatetic, a parapatetic's affliction manifests as an overwhelming compulsion to wander around the sky. The symptoms are somewhat alleviated by a support group of fellow sufferers. But I often have to bear it alone. In the picture to the right, the pain and suffering are barely masked by my stoic expression.

Yesterday, close to a dozen pilots assembled at Kahana to take advantage of what we knew would be the first of a couple of flyable days before the real breezy trade winds settle in this coming weekend. But even though the sensors weren't calling it strong, we launched and flew in some pretty breezy flow from low launch. A few people hiked down. Duck was flying his new rainbow colored baby, the Freestyle 20, and wasn't exactly speeding through the air. I launched and parked myself above the rhino horn, trying to see if I could get high enough to make a crossing.

I rose straight up in that elevator of ridge lift, milking any bubbles I could find in that strong flow, reaching a bit more than two grand before heading out. Jason was on my tail: for some reason he was flying his old Aspen 2, and he couldn't quite get the glide he needed to follow, so I ended up over there alone. I passed through a slight drizzle on my way across, and they felt it at Kahana soon after. But I made it, and I enjoyed a nice tour of Kaaawa and Kualoa in strong ridge lift before wandering offshore for a quick photo shoot.

I returned to Kahana with thoughts of soothing refreshments, but the temptation to wander off the other way was irresistible. I headed to Punaluu, where I climbed up easily over the front in strong ridge lift, and then traced a slow arc back to Kahana once more. Over the rhino horn again, my chronic affliction finally loosened its grip, and I turned back to Punaluu to land in front of Duck and Jason. Fortunately they had already filled my prescription, and I drank that cool medicine down right away. Ahh, sweet relief. I may be a chronic parapatetic, but at least there are medications available to help control it!

Roll call: Lake, Woody, Louis, me, Duck, Jason, Colorado Scott, Utah Jamin, Brian, Johnimo, Montana Dick.


Anonymous said...

Hmm, forgot helmet?

Alex said...

Perish the thought! I took it off momentarily to point the helmetcam at myself for a few fetching self portraits! And that's the story I'm sticking with!

Puka Wai said...

That "stoic" expression is rather MadDogesque... and I think the word should be periparaetic, otherwise you are talking about a flying foot!

Gravity said...

The DR is 'In'
This self manifestation of Periparaetic as you stoically called it, never goes away! After flying for over 26 years I see your condition only worsening.
What's the cure you say?
More flying, years more, alone even, but you have years to go, many more miles to fly, and then maybe it will slowly diminish to a slightly less painful addiction.
Sorry to have given you the more terminal of my prescriptions Alex.
But alas, you are doomed!

Thom said...

Thanks for the read and the diagnosis of what is taking over me.

It is an affliction which I am glad to be 'Doomed' by.

JJ Jameson

Anonymous said...

There is no cure. Sadly, only repeated injections of flight time will allow you to maintain social and occupational functioning.