There's nothing quite like the rush of air through your loins. Whenever I feel the need to clear my mind, I pack my paragliding kit, head for some ridge in the landscape, and launch myself beyond the realm of human anxieties. As I catch a thermal, my mind is swept clean of everything but the flutter of wing fabric, and the occasional crack of the harness, as I gyrate gracefully down to the ancient flood-plain below.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Paragliding
There's nothing quite like the rush of air through your loins. Whenever I feel the need to clear my mind, I pack my paragliding kit, head for some ridge in the landscape, and launch myself beyond the realm of human anxieties. As I catch a thermal, my mind is swept clean of everything but the flutter of wing fabric, and the occasional crack of the harness, as I gyrate gracefully down to the ancient flood-plain below.
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