Motorized Paragliding : Manzanilla

13th February 2011

My ears perk up when my fiance Edward, tells me about "a guy called Juan from Venezuela" who does Motorized Paragliding in Manzanilla. Always game for something fun and exciting on the exceedingly rare weekends that Edward and I are off together, I say "Let's do it!"

Manzanilla Beach

Having done a three and a half hour night-hike in Blanchisseuse along the Marianne River the night before, we have a lazy Sunday morning and set off for Manzanilla at close to noon. It was a leisurely drive and I was happy to stretch my legs on the almost deserted beach when we finally arrived.

Just as my eyes finish soaking in the horizon and the stretch of the east coast of Trinidad, Juan arrives. The tray of Juan's pickup truck was loaded with several sacks of parachute-material looking duffel bags of different sizes, but what stood out, was a cleverly constructed frame which housed an engine, about the size of a lawn-mower engine, with a chrome muffler curled under it. I am immediately excited and quickly come closer to listen to Juan's very thick Venezuelan-accented introduction to Motorized Paragliding. Juan is very passionate about the sport and you realize that he genuinely hopes to introduce and cultivate the sport in Trinidad. I like him already.

The Steroid Skateboard

As I receive my Motorized Paragliding 101, two guys who were waiting when we arrived, eagerly unpack Juan's van. You can tell these guys have done this before, but today they are intent on another activity, Kite-Boarding. One of the guys gets to the Board (which looks like a skateboard on steroids, all-terrain wheels and all!) and his eyes light up. They quickly get themselves set up under Shim's watchful gaze. Shim is Juan's dare-devil buddy and the Kite Boarding instructor. The Kite Boarders set off with the training kite and the Steroid Skateboard to the compact sand shoreline. In what seems like a matter of seconds, the kite is up and one of the guys is ripping down the shoreline on the Steroid Skateboard. The wind is gusty and the kite is making rapid movements as it pulls the Boarder down the beach at what looks like 30 miles an hour!

I look back to the Kite that Juan is setting up for our Paraglide and realize that it must be 3 times the size of the training kite...Oh Boy! As I put on the candy red crash helmet and strap myself into the harnesses, the Kite Boarders rip down the beach in front of me and I really don't know what to expect from the Monster red Kite I'm now hooked up to.

It's a tandem flight and Juan is giving me last minute instructions. Before I know it, the Monster Kite is up and I feel my heels lift off and my toes stretching down to touch the sand. Juan cranks up the engine, two steps and we're airborne! I slide back into my harness, mentally making sure that I followed all of Juan's instructions, when I am suddenly aware that my perspective of the shoreline has changed... I'm now looking at the top of the crests of the waves, and the tops of the coconut trees, and as I raise my head, I realize that I can see the entire Nariva Swamp. It takes my breath away and I feel my eyes readjust as I try to soak in the incredible view.

My Bird's Eye View

I smile to myself as I think that this is what Edward, who is a helicopter pilot, must see everyday. Intent on preserving this moment and hoping to etch the scene into my memory, I close my eyes for a moment when another sensation strikes me. I feel the wind blowing the sand from the soles of my feet. It seems in that magical moment, that each grain of sand rolls the entire distance of the soles of my feet, as if clinging on, before each grain surrenders to the might of the wind. It is a feeling I am sure I will never forget.

Juan idles the engine down and we float on the wind suspended by the kite, as he asks if I feel alright and takes the opportunity to tell me about and point out from our bird's eye position, the Nariva Swamp, the Manatee Trust, the Coconut Tree barrier and explains to me that the sediment from the river colors the water below us. I listen earnestly and am impressed that Juan knows so much about our under-appreciated treasures. 

Juan then asks again if I feel alright, no sea-sickness? I am eager for him to know how much I am enjoying the experience and say, "No I feel great! This is amazing!" Juan, now certain that I am comfortable and game asks, "You wanna have a little fun?", I reply "Hell yeah!". Juan then revs up the little engine and we make what seemed like a 45 degree upward climb for a minute or so and then idles the engine off. Pulling on the harnesses that connects to the Monster Kite, we make a quick bank to one side and my scream escapes. I hear Juan chuckle and I grip the harnesses on either side of me. We quickly swing from side to side while gliding down toward the wave crests below us and my adrenaline is really pumping. I am caught between fits of screams and laughter. I take in the full range of the movement and fight the urge the squeeze my eyes tightly shut. Juan then levels us out and I am laughing uncontrollably, I feel as free as a bird.

Juan takes us up again and then glides us back down till my toes can almost touch the crests of the waves. I feel the moisture filled wind on my feet and love it. A few minutes later, we fly in the direction of the westerly descending sun and Juan prepares us for our landing. My feet touch the ground as gently as they took off and a with a few running steps in, the Monster Kite curls down ahead of us. My legs are a little wonky as they support my weight and my tummy gives a little shudder.

I quickly unstrap myself from the harness, take off my Crash Helmet and pass it over to Edward, eager for him to see and feel the magnanimity of the adventure!

Edward gets ready to take-off

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King of the Hill: Hololo Mountain

19^th February 2011

I’ve never been a particularly nervous or anxious person, but there is something about running that always seems to bring on a little tightness in my chest, a little flutter in my stomach and makes my leg muscles tense up. Running for me, is the most honest test of my body’s endurance, strength and most of all, my willpower. It’s just you, the demanding road under the soles of your beat-out trainers and your mind. You can never be more alone than in that moment when you call on your aching body to perform what your mind wills it to do. The King of the Hill Run on Hololo Mountain was a testament to this.

The race started on Hill Crest Avenue in St. Ann’s at approximately 8am. To say that I was intimidated by the turn-out was an understatement. Groups of participants proudly wore their running sports tops with printed titles such as “Trinidad and Tobago Regiment” and “Once a Week” to name a few. Again with the flutter in my stomach, as these well toned bodies bounced and stretched on the already steeply slanting road, as I made my way to the registration table to be measured and weighed for my handicap assignment.  I was given a 4:15. My mutantly fit brother Rahul, was given a 2:30, while my always toned and super athletic fiancé Edward, was given a daunting 0:47.

I had the best intentions. I had never seen the course and started off in my mind with the thought, “It doesn’t matter if you finish last, just keep running, even if it’s just a jog”. After the huge stop clock at the start line signaled my start, I reminded myself to keep to my pace and gingerly set off with 'Airplanes' by B.O.B. featuring Hayley Williams coming through my headphones. It was an immediately uphill start. I rounded the first bend and found another hill staring me directly in the face. Determined not to fall down on my “jog to the end” I ploughed into the next few inclines. Finally some relief came with the first small decline. By this time, my breathing was ragged and my leg muscles were on fire. I jogged to the end of the decline and then had to submit to oncoming hill. As the fitter participants ran past me, I consoled myself with, “Walk quickly until your breathing settles and then you’ll start again.”

My trek continued in bursts of jog-walk-jog-walk until it became very evident, even to my willing mind, that this Mountain was going to kick my butt. Edward found me struggling up a hill in silent determination. With a little flick on my bum to let me know he was there, he slowed his pace and stayed with me. Three-quarter of the way to the top, while struggling up a 75 degree angled hill, my lungs were begging for more oxygen. It was the first time in my life that I felt completely out of my league, and my body asked my mind, “What have you gotten us into?” I call out to Edward and escape my ipod to hear his voice. Knowing that I was struggling, he slowed his pace further and reached his hand out. No words, just encouragement. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t complete this course, even if it meant crawling over the finish line hours later. I press on.

The leaders of the pack are heading back down and as they fly past me, I can see both relief and struggle on their faces. A few manage to utter some encouraging words as the wind carries their words in stolen breaths back to those still struggling on the uphill. Rahul comes down while I’m still struggling up and I manage to find some air in my lungs to scream encouragement as the effort is etched on his face. He completes the course in an impressive 38 minutes. There are signs taped to the road surface and stuck on supports on the road side, “You have done more difficult things than this”, “Pain is only weakness leaving the body”, “The mind is the muscle that needs exercise here”, “There are no losers, only last winners” to recall a few. Without fail, everyone’s pace quickens as they pass these signs, encouragement having taken its root.

One hour and eight minutes later I cross the finish line with Edward at my side and Rahul clapping me home. It is a bittersweet moment. I am happy that I didn’t give up but disappointed that I couldn’t push myself harder to be faster and stronger.  I look back at the last hill of my descent and promise Hololo Mountain that I will take her on again.

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