I know it’s not nice to whine about the weather in Hawaii. But in the winter we sometimes experience Kona breezes — hot, muggy, winds from the south that deliver high humidity and vog, aka, volcanic haze. I don’t think any of us actually like being hot and sticky with stuffy noses and, for those of us with asthma, coughs that make us sound like we’re hacking up Hawaiian hair balls.
When we took off to run from Kapiolani Park, John and I shared our plans. He was to go on to Triangle Park in Kahala, I was to run for 15 minutes, and then run back. I ran up to my half-way point for my weekend bicycle ride, the bridge that looks down at the surfing breaks at Diamond Head. I decided to run there, which actually took me 16 minutes for my 2.1 run for my #10kin100days program. I took some pix and then headed back to the park.
Both times I passed a group of guys sitting on the wall. They were easy going, friendly, having a good time, not smoking, not drunk, not stupid. Haha. They were very pleasant and I felt like they were very nice as I ran by both times. By the time I made it back to the car, John had caught up with me and we drove back in the direction of Diamond Head Lookout. That’s when we spotted the paragliders. And that’s when I realized that these nicer-than-average guys were them! John found a parking space and we took some pics and video.
Like I said, they were really friendly and lots of fun. Normally I see paragliders when I ride my bicycle to Makapu’u Lookout, but today, thanks to the lousy Kona-wind conditions, they were at Diamond Head. I asked anyone who wanted to answer if they were married and had kids or grandkids and they laughed. They do. And they say their spouses are quite tolerant, but they could also have some handsome insurance policies waiting.
It was fun watching the guys launch, float into the sky, tug on their lines to steer left, right, up and down. One came in for a landing, and he touched down lighter than an angel. I am intrigued at the idea of climbing into a harness, spreading out a paraglider, confirming lines aren’t tangled, and running off a cliff with faith that there is enough lift and breeze to float you.