A crazed 'downwinder' and a rescue

      It was time for Old Guys' Kite Camp, Spring Edition 2023 and a good-sized group of us gathered on the Outer Banks to take advantage of the usual good winds and not-too-cold water, as well as the good house rental rates before they skyrocket for the summer season.   We rented a big, beautiful house on the edge of the Pamlico Sound with a good launch, a good kitchen and a good hot tub.  

     The gang this time included family (my brother Mark and his wife, as well as our son Mike, his wife Adrienne and their four-year-old Krazed Kate, and our nephews from Seattle) and friends, to include Uncle Winston and Tom from Richmond, and the official Designated Sacrificial Newbie of the trip, invited to have someone else that most of us could feel better than, kiting-wise.  

      To round out the group, a former missionary that served with us in Peru and his brother and wife came, and that turned out to be lucky, as you'll see later.  Our good friend Kalie came, an early convert to kiting as introduced by Mark.  

     Obviously, to kiteboard, you've got to have wind, and Mother Nature came through nicely.  Only Friday, the last day, was non-windy, and that was actually pleasant for cleaning equipment, packing it up, sitting on the ocean-side beach while the granddaughter played at the edge of the water, and laughing about the week.

      What was there to laugh about?  Last year, Mark contacted a well-known professional kitesurfer from Holland who works for one of the major kite companies, who said, yes, I happen to be planning to be at Hatteras during your kite camp, and I'd be happy to do an instructional camp.  To our amazement, he said that our group had actually been kind of fun, and he agreed to do the same this year, as his girlfriend's family would once again be renting nearby.  Four of our group and four others made up the instructional group, and Steven, the pro, spent oodles of time with them on the water, and hours going over videos of them as they sat in our living room.  

     OK, I know that kiteboarding is a niche, "extreme" sport, but this was literally like having Tiger Woods come and work on your golf swing with you.  Talking later, Steven admitted with a grin that it was a valid comparison, although a) our sport is a LOT smaller, and b) his net worth was not quite the $1.1 billion of Mr. Woods.  If you'd like to see a short clip of him getting some major air, try here.  His instructional videos are some of the best in the world.  He was most impressive, but I think most importantly for the long run, he was impressively kind and patient, a truly nice person.

      So the laughter arose from the usual badinage between old friends catching up on good stories from the past six months as well as critiquing each others' efforts in Steven's videos of the lessons.   

      In kiting and other wind-driven sports, a "downwinder" is a run from Point A to Point B going (duh) downwind.  There is a stretch of the Pamlico Sound, the huge relatively shallow water behind the skinny island of the Outer Banks that has been nicknamed "The Planet of the Apes," or "Planet" for short.  It is so named because you literally cannot get through the tangled, impenetrable marine forest between the water and the road; if you break down, you will be wading for miles before you can escape Planet and be rescued.  Sounds stupid, but a Planet downwinder is a popular pastime when the wind is right.  If you are quite bored and want to see what it looks like, here's a 3-minute of someone else's downwinder.

      So, what could possibly go wrong?  As it happened, everything did.  People showed up late and chose the wrong sized kites for the wind, lines broke, a kite went into the trees and was ruined, other equipment broke and all in all, it was described by Steven as "like herding cats," and I didn't even know that was an expression in Holland.   

      Our son Mike and his wife Adrienne came also, and brought their four-year-old daughter Kate.  She is a funny kid, and had a great time with all the adults paying her attention.  Mike had bought her an inexpensive wetsuit, and she was dying to try it in the (unheated!) pool.

     This was a an auspicious week, date wise.  Not only was Thursday May The Fourth (as in "may the fourth be with you..."), but Friday was Cinco de Mayo.  One of the couples went all out on the theme, allowing Kate to race Uncle Winston on inflated llamas.

     She won, but he protested, claiming that she cheated.  No decision yet from the judges.

      OK, so why was it lucky that Nate came to Kite Camp this spring?  Well, NC 64 runs from Raleigh straight east to the ocean.  A lonely 30-mile two-lane stretch runs through a nearly-uninhabited region of piney woods and swamps on the way, with bears and red wolves occasionally spotted crossing the road.  In order to build the roadbed, the constructors had to raise its level above the soggy surroundings, and they did so by dredging dirt alongside its course.  This left a major ditch which filled with water.  Before adding a guard rail through much of this part of the highway, cars would occasionally run off the road and literally disappear with their occupants into the green-brown water.

     The last car of our friends coming from Kite Camp held three people, including our former missionary who speaks good Peruvian Spanish.  They were following a white van when it suddenly veered and crashed into the ditch.  They screeched to a stop and two of them jumped in as the van sank.  

     The driver was the only occupant, and happened to be a Peruvian, speaking almost no English.  They pulled him from the sinking vehicle, made sure no one else was inside and swam him to shore, as he didn't know how to swim, which is not unusual in Peru.  Our friends looked inside the van as it sank, just to make sure he had been alone. 

 The vehicle sank until only the roof was visible through the murky water.  

     Police and ambulances soon arrived, and though the loss of the driver's brother's van and the tools inside was a shame, he was not harmed, either by the crash or the swim.  

     On the other hand, our friends were now wet and not smelling too good, and they were on a tight schedule to make the flight from Raleigh to Salt Lake.  They texted us their plight on the road, and took us up on the offer to take quick showers at our place, making their flight with only a little to spare.

     In summary, a great, interesting week with good friends and family and a great kiting pro.  With a heroic ending. 

     We hope that your downwinders go better and that you're not trapped in The Planet of the Apes!  Also, be really careful driving that stretch of NC 64!

Dave & Paula

What's that incredible smell, Your Highness?

     OK, that's a quote from Han Solo when the trio found themselves in the trash compacter in the first Star Wars.  But I digress.

     The trip to Thailand, outlined in the previous blog, was marvelous.  We were almost overwhelmed with new sights and sounds and yes, smells.

     There is something called Durian fruit that grows in Southeast Asia, and the pulp within is said to be sweet and delicious.  

     However, when we checked into our hotel room in Chiang Mai, we saw these signs:

      Apparently, those who have smelled intact Durian fruit would suggest that the amount of the penalties should be reversed.  

     In the previous blog post about our trip to Thailand, I  mentioned that Thai food was good and plentiful.  The chef that Ashley hired to cook during the first week when we were really outdid himself.  There were curries of all colors, seafood of all descriptions, fruit whose name I can't remember, rice and more rice, and it was all beautifully presented.  However, the second week, we started noticing something strange. 

     Our clothes started getting a soft orange shading in areas in areas of contact with perspiration. 

 We weren't sure at first, but as time went on, it became definite. 

     We tried to figure it out; if it were due to air pollution, the entire garment would be stained.  If it were due to washing the clothes in the local water, once again that would color the whole piece of clothing.  We finally decided it had to be what we were eating.

     And then we noticed that we were starting to smell like good Thai food.  This wasn't entirely unpleasant, but by about ten days into the trip, it was clearly the case..

     It all came to a head by the end of the bike tour of the Old city in Chiang Mai (which name, by the way, means "New City").  When we got back to our room, there was a most definite aroma.  We quickly put all the clothes through the Scrubba with plenty of soap and that helped, but something was still funky.  We followed our noses to my tennis shoes.

     Holy guacamole!  They were pungent, only this time it was NOT pleasant, and it wasn't just FO (Foot Odor).  Finding no evidence of having trodden on something bad, we concluded that either something had crawled in and died, or something in Thai food (of which we had partaken a lot more than we should have) exits through your feet.  I scrubbed and rinsed and scrubbed and rinsed and scrubbed and rinsed.  It helped, but after our last activities that needed tennis shoes, we donated them to Thailand. 

     We reasoned that we had already added thousands of Thai Bhat to the nation's economy, so why not a couple of tennis shoes?  If I'd kept them, we would have had to stay in Thailand because no one would have allowed us or our baggage on an international flight.

     Considering all of this, I now wonder if folks in other countries think that Americans smell like a Big Mac or a hot dog and a Coke when they get off the plane  At least those foods don't turn your unmentionables orange or your tennis shoes unwearable. 

    In the end, I'm going to keep trying new foods.  We hope that whatever you are eating has no permanent effect on your wardrobe. 

All Thai'd Up!

     As previously noted, our daughter Ashley, her husband and their seven kids live in Astaná, Kazakhstan, thanks to the State Department.  They have adopted the routine of taking a "Spring Break" each March, to coincide with the kids' time out in their online and at-home schooling.  That especially makes sense because Astaná is the second coldest capital in the world.

     This year, Ashley's gang decided to visit Thailand, and we were delighted when they invited us to accompany them.  Ashley arranged for a villa with a swimming pool and a real-live Thai chef on the island of Samui in the Gulf of Thailand.  It's the island down in the left lower corner.

      OK, but isn't Thailand halfway around the world?  Yep.  Exactly twelve time zones from Raleigh.  Using the GPS on my iPad, I tracked our flight from Atlanta to Seoul, Korea.  (Remember, if someone tells you to go to heck, you have to connect through Atlanta.)

      Did you know that to get to Seoul you go almost straight north from Atlanta?  Yep again.  The 'Great Circle' route goes up over Canada, then descends past Alaska, carefully skirts Russia, overflies Japan and finally ends up in Korea.

     What do you do for a sixteen-hour flight?  Drugs.  And movies.  And three or four meals - I lost count.  The pharmaceutical in this case was the sleeping pill Lunesta, a few of which we still had from trying to sleep at 14,500 feet in the mountains of Peru.  Expiration dates are for wimps, by the way.

     Bless Korean Air's heart, they had edited "Everything Everywhere All The Time" so that it was OK to watch, and so I saw it a couple of days before the Oscars pronounced it as great.  I'm not sure if it was the rarified air at altitude over Alaska or the expired drugs, but the movie was pretty crazy.

      Acknowledging that, yes, I turned 69 with Ashley and her gang on a beach on Samui, I was still a bit huffed when we were directed to the "special" immigration line in the Bangkok airport, reserved for VIP's and "The Aged."  So much for thinking that I could fool anyone.  I'm sure they were not basing this on Paula, as she pointed out.  Several times.

     Oh, my goodness!  Is overdosing on great Thai food an identified health risk?  Is there some form of Narcan for excessive Thai food?  The chef at the villa went nuts!  Every night there were three or four main dishes, and then dessert!  Everything was beautifully presented.  When he said "king prawns," he wasn't kidding - I've seen lobsters of less magnitude.

     Ashley's kids were great.  They have grown up in Central Asia, they all speak some Russian, and not very much flummoxes them.  They loved riding the motor scooter with Grandpa, swimming at the beach, eating Thai food and reading the Dilbert books lying around.

     There are fewer elephants to whom one can feed bananas in Kazakhstan, so they took advantage of the opportunity to do so in Thailand.

     Three of the older kids and Ashley herself, as well as Adventure Grandma and I went scuba diving at an island an hour's boat ride away, a real adventure with lots of fish and even a shark!  Of course there was Thai food for lunch.

      There were lots of Thai dive boats around, and Nope, that's not our boat.  Most of them looked even worse than this, but we were on a very nice new boat.

     Another day, we traveled by boat to the Ang Thong National Marine Park, a protected archipelago of some sixty islands located an hour an a half away in the Gulf.  "Stunning" comes close, and I'm not just referring to the model in the foreground.

     We came and went off the big boat that brought us to the park via the arch-typical water transport of Thailand - the long-tail boat.  The thing on the back is a long shaft with a propeller on the end hanging off the rear of watever motor could be mounted on a swivel on the back of the boat.  No hazard there!  OSHA would have a water buffalo (Thai equivalent of a cow).  And the food for lunch was great! 

     Thailand's main faith is Buddhism, and there are temples of all sizes scattered about.  I wondered to Paula (the non-overweight person in the foreground) if this one had something to do with the quality/quantity of Thai food.

     Several great days were spent with Ashley's family on beautiful beaches around the island.

     Most of the beaches were pretty clean, but an occasional odd artifact could be found.  I believe this was originally a size 9-C before the marine life hitched a ride. 

     Alas, after eight great days with them, Ashley's family had to put their coats on and head back to Kazakhstan.

     However, Paula and I figured that if you're going to buy tickets to go halfway around the globe, you need to take advantage of the opportunity.  Not too far away was a beach where some kiteboarding takes place!  Yee Hah!

      Paula could sit on the covered patio by our room and watch the "action," though using that term to describe my kiteboarding ability stretches the truth more than a little.  There were several days of good wind and I had a great time, even improving on several maneuvers.

     The kiteboarding 'company' consisted of a group of Polish 20-somethings who would carry the kites and boards from the shop a half-mile away balanced on scooters and then schlep them up the beach.  Pavel, Michal, 'Dave' and the rest were chill and helpful.

     One thing about the lagoon, however.  When the tide was high, there was plenty of room and up to a couple feet of water depth - great for kiting!

     On the other hand... when the tide was out, it was OUT.

     The 'hotel' complex was kind of strange.  It was clean, but had seen better days, except for the half that we were told (very clearly!) was Private!  Their pool was nicer, and when we asked 'Dave' who all the European-looking people were, he said, "That's a Russian cult having some meeting."  Oh, Kay...

     Next stop - Chiang Mai!  The second-largest city in Thailand after Bangkok, it's located in the north of the country, in the more mountainous area.  There are over a million people in the city, and an estimated 1,500 Buddhist temples as well as other historic and cultural high points.  At this time of year, agricultural burning in the region, as well as in neighboring Laos and Myanmar tend to add to the haze, of which there was a fair amount.  

     But is there food?  That would be a big ใช่, which is Thai for "Yep."  In fact, they'll teach you how to make it!  Paula and I took an afternoon-long cooking class.  First, we headed to the market to buy the fixin's.

     After wandering around in the market, Paula and I looked at each other and said, "We've been here!!"  Only it had been in Bogotá, and Huancayo, and Tashkent.  Just change some of the items for sale and convince the folks to speak Spanish or Uzbek and it could have been one of those other markets.

     The teachers taught us about the local items, purchased a bunch, and took us to their personal residence, where we three Gringos were instructed on some basics of Thai cooking.  We each cooked four dishes and then ate them and no one died.  Yet.

     Paula had signed us up the next day for a bicycle tour of the city, and she scored again.  I guess due to this being the off-season for tourists, it was just us, a nice young lady tour guide and some basic bikes with baskets.  

     The guide was superb!  Yes, she took us to the coolest temples, 

    but also a bunch of off-the-beaten-path areas.  

     On bicycles?  In a big Thai city?  Including in downtown traffic?!  Another Yep.  Turns out that the Thai drivers were polite, took care to give us room, and the guide could actually stop traffic with a smile and an upraised hand.  In Huancayo, we would have been flattened.  Repeatedly and gleefully.  And flattened again.  

     Church was within walking distance on Sunday, and unless you look closely and note that there are mango trees instead of cottonwoods, this building could have been in Idaho.  There are three branches in Chiang Mai, part of a district in northern Thailand

     However, unless they've started speaking a lot of Thai in Boise, that was a big difference.  We had to put on the headphones for the main service, but thanks to a Sister missionary from Utah who did a good translation, we understood the speakers.  

     Paula lucked out putting us in the Moon Dragon Hotel (complete with dragon out front), 

and it was very nice and close to almost everything, including the big Sunday night market that took over the street in front of it.  

     Oh, my word!  The picture doesn't show the crowds that soon clogged the street, and gives no hint of what was on sale.  Fried squid!  Jade rings!  Thai food!  Doo dads of all descriptions!  Thai food!  Plastic stuff!  T-shirts!  Thai food!  Jewelry!

     Needless to say, the food was great!  And I didn't get sick!  Just really full!

     Realizing that my calorie spread sheet was now frighteningly out of balance, we rode bikes all day on Monday in areas out in the country around Chiang Mai.  Here, we're getting a lesson about raising rice, of which there are more varieties than you can shake a chopstick at.   

However....that's right; they were e-Bikes.

     Which were really cool for any hills, and there were definitely some of those.  However, you just cranked up the "Assist" factor and presto!  Right up the hill!  And if that didn't fix it, there was a "Boost Button" that would.  We had never ridden e-Bikes before, and they were a revelation that may cost me in the future, according to Paula.  

      Among the points of interest during the ride was a 1939 Kawasaki steam engine abandoned by the Japanese as their occupation of Thailand in World War 2 ended.  Not far from this picture is the Kwai River over which the bridge depicted in the movie was built.  Some ten thousand Allied prisoners died during railway construction in Thailand during the war, in addition to over one hundred thousand Thai citizens who perished.

     In our defense, we really did have to pedal (some) during the seven hours of riding, but the good Thai food at lunch wiped out any calorie credit.

     So, what do you do on your last day in Thailand?  You wake up at 4:00 AM so that you can be picked up by Tu the Tour Guide at 5:00 AM and you travel up in the mountains to watch the sun rise at the amazing temple complex overlooking the city of Chiang Mai.  

    Pictures of sunrises and sunsets rarely do them justice, but it was gorgeous.

     And then, of course, we had to stop for a big breakfast of (wait for it) Thai food!!  

     We visited two further temples on the way down the mountain, including my favorite, which Tu called 'The Hidden Temple' because the tourists don't go there.  It was peaceful with softly trickling water and paths through the forest.  

     And then it was over.  Back to the Moon Dragon and packing up.  The flight to Bangkok, then to Seoul, then to Seattle and then (yawn) to Raleigh.

     Overall impressions?  It's clear to us why people like to go to Thailand.  The place (except for maybe Bangkok) is gorgeous and the people are exceptionally kind and gracious.  There is a reason why it's called The Country of Smiles.  We left having smiled a lot.

     Oh, yeah, and the Thai food.  Did I mention that they have good food in Thailand?

I guess I should thank him...

But it didn't feel like it at the time.  

I'm about two months after the hip thing, and about three weeks after crutches.  Other than muscle atrophy from non-use and some continued pain as connective tissue and joints get used to their new and previous situations, things are going well.

However, the strength of the union between the hip replacement parts and the bones is still increasing, and won't max out for many months.  I'll be on restriction from kiteboarding and cycling for at least another 30 days.

As previous posts have reported, we gather with friends and family at least twice a year on the Outer Banks of North Carolina for kiting.  This makes the 30th year we've done so, though windsurfing was the thing until about 2008.  This year we packed ten folks into a house with a great launch on the Pamlico Sound side, and enjoyed good winds for several days.

By the way, the one in the foreground doesn't kite - yet.  However, she had a great time splashing around and writing her name in the sand with her stick.

One of the great things about Hatteras is that even the calm days are enjoyable,

Being still restricted, I nonetheless put on a wetsuit and waded out to help folks.  Our son Mike's wife wanted to learn, so she and I and a 9-meter kite spent a lot of a day splashing around and laughing.  It just never gets old, watching noobs get launched!

Otherwise, there's always stuff to fix.  My brother brings his jet ski for rescues, and to take videos of folks kiting and to help with beginners.  A replacement starter solenoid had to be installed,

and I had to wrestle a new kite bladder into place.  (See previous post about leaky bladders.)

On Wednesday, the wind blew a bit stronger, so everyone that could was jumping and back-rolling and zooming around, having a great time.  One of them came in for a break at one point, asking if anyone on the shore wanted the kite.  I happened to be in a wetsuit with a harness on, and it was such a beautiful day, and the wind was perfect, and I started in that direction.... and my younger but wiser brother, the recently-retired orthopedic surgeon stepped between me and the kite, clipped in and rode off.

I guess in today's terms that was an "intervention," and he was right, and like I said, I guess that I should thank him... I guess...

As you might already know, the Outer Banks consist of several long and very skinny islands, essentially glorified sandbars, along which NC Highway 12 runs.  Coming back from church on Sunday in Kitty Hawk, traffic stopped for about an hour as the flaming results of a head-on crash were cleaned up.

Thanks to airbags and dumb luck, no one was seriously hurt.

And then of course there was Hurricane Ian. 

Highway 12 is very vulnerable to storms, and waiting too long can trap folks on the island as a storm approaches. 

By Wednesday evening it was clear that the hurricane's path was unclear, and with prospects of winds beyond useful kiting strength accompanied by heavy rain, everyone packed up on Thursday morning and headed home.  By that point, the heavy equipment was already beginning the of-repeated battle of keeping Highway 12 open.  

All in all, a fun week, though with an unfortunate ending for so many folks in Florida.  Everyone made it home safely from Kite Camp, we didn't break anything, be it kites, cars or humans.  Now, if the doc will just give me a clean bill of health...

Dave