Cape Cod Activites, Events & Things to Do: Golf, Fishing, Whale Watches, Beaches, Shopping: Kiteboarding 101: Hours of Play

Kiteboarders dance on water at West Dennis Beach, leap off the crest of a wave and perform an aerial ballet. I want to kiteboard, so I call Jay Horn, owner of Air Support, to set up a lesson.

 

Horn begins my lesson by explaining how the wind and the kite work together. With the sand as his chalkboard, he draws an arc that represents the “wind window.” Think of an amphitheater, and you, the kiteboarder, are on center stage. When the kite sails directly overhead, you are in neutral or 12 o’clock. The trick is to keep the kite between 10:00 and 2:00 by experimenting with the edges of the “wind window.” 

 

Next we rig the kite, which I’m surprised to learn is inflatable and huge. Standing on the beach, Horn launches the kite and effortlessly brings it under his control. He explains how each move of his hand affects the speed and direction of the kite. Now it’s my turn. I nestle myself  between Horn and the control bar. I position my hands inside his on the bar as he models the proper technique. Slowly Horn gives me more control, his hands my training wheels. “Left hand in . . .right hand in,” he coaches. As if programmed, the multicolored kite floats contently from 10:00 to 2:00. This feels great. I sense I’m getting the hang of it. Confident in my ability, Horn turns over the controls.

 

For seconds I feel the full force of the kite. The once compliant kite now shows its true colors. It knows this is my first time. I grip the control bar, pulling hard to the left. Apparently I should have pulled to the right. Unsympathetic, the kite plummets, my feet skid across the sandbar until my butt and the kite hit the beach simultaneously. The kite flew me this time. This is going to be a little harder than I imagined. 

 

“You O. K.?” checks Horn. 

 

“I’m O.K!”  I laugh at myself, sitting in the sand, happy only the kite made an audible thud when crashing to the beach. “Who told the kite I’m a beginner?”

 

Horn smiles. “When you control the kite, think centimeters. Don’t try to muscle the kite. Move your hands slowly and think slight adjustments.” 

 

Ready to try again, I think “centimeters” and remind myself and the kite that I am in control. Slowly the kite and I come to an understanding. It flies smoothly. Like a 5-year-old excited by the challenge of riding a bike for the first time, I’m thrilled that I conquered this “kite on steroids.” Like the new bike rider who rides around the neighborhood all afternoon, proud of the performance, oblivious to surroundings and minor crashes, I, too, am happy to fly (and crash) the kite all day.

 

Until a rogue gust catches the kite. My heart beats fast and adrenaline floods my veins. Horn grabs the loop in the back of my harness, helping me “control the wind.” As the power of the kite pulls us both, we quickly sidestep along the sandbar, only sometimes it looks choreographed. “Left hand in . . . more left . . . right hand in . . . we’re gonna save it this time.” His voice mimics my excitement.  I revel in my first ballet rehearsal.

 

“You control the kite. Don’t let it control you,” Horn reminds me. I’m surprised to find that successfully flying the kite and crashing the kite are equally a big part of the fun and learning. There is great satisfaction when the kite flies smoothly.  

 

However, when not successful, I welcome the challenge and enjoy the physicality it brings. The kite smugly looks me in the eye each time it crashes. Ha! It’s not smart enough to realize that I learn a bit more with each crash.

 

Body dragging is next. Although I love the water, I’m not sure what to expect.  I sit on the back of the Wave Runner (similar to a Jet-Ski) as Horn drives us away from the beach. Safely offshore, the kite and I ease our way into the summer-warmed ocean. The kite, complacent, knows Horn is watching and holds in the neutral position while I tread water. I steer the kite until it gains power and begins to pull me gently through the water.

 

The kite buys into our new relationship and kindly takes me on a ride. Occasionally a gust lifts me almost completely out of the water, as if I were flying. Enveloped in water and “pretending” to control the wind, my eyes are glued to my new friend, as my body drags behind, a lure for some mythical being.

 

Perhaps not unexpectedly, my new fickle friend re-establishes control. The kite suddenly and quickly propels me through Nantucket Sound, but I’m not going down without a fight. The speed of the carnival-like ride gives me a taste of how it must feel when you get on the board. We battle a bit, but the kite proves to be more than I can handle and crashes. Still holding the control bar and treading water, I look around. Besides Horn, I am alone. There are no boats, no swimmers, and I can barely see the beach. There sure is a lot of water out here. Respectfully, I realize I’m nature’s guest today.

 

“Last try!”  Horn’s voice, although much deeper, reminds me of my mother’s voice when she would stand on the back porch calling my three brothers and me in from play. Before the kite flies for the last time today, I know the fun is over. I want more.  This lesson was a blast!

 

After the last ride, I climb back on the Wave Runner, wrap up the lifeless sail, and we head back to the beach. I watch the sun begin its fall and realize how late it must be. Time flew this playful afternoon. The crowded beach we launched from is just about deserted. Spent and content, I remember the importance of play. Kiteboarding 101 is great play.