Run Until You Fly

I couldn’t help feeling like Wile E. Coyote on Saturday. There I was, running as fast as I could – which wasn’t very fast – until I ran out of land. And then my legs were still pumping away.

But instead of pausing in mid-air, looking at the camera and dropping to a splat, I lifted up higher and scanned the horizon in awe as I glided out over the Pacific Ocean.

Spectacular.

I had never gone paragliding before, but it looked like a lot of fun. So when I was invited to go along on a tandem flight, I jumped at the opportunity.

The running part felt, well, goofy. I was harnessed to my pilot, Dave Cantrell, and a giant banana-shaped wing connected to us by lots and lots of cords. So when we were sprinting down the gravel runway toward the Three Arch Rocks off in the distance, we must have looked like an offensive guard and tackle practicing pulling in tandem by being hooked together and dragging tires behind them.

We were even wearing helmets.

Then 10 short seconds after Dave yelled “Run!” for the first time, the parachute lifted us into the air and we were in flight some 600 feet above Oceanside.

Each year, a large group of paragliders gathers in Tillamook County for the Oceanside Open – three days of paragliding competitions and camaraderie. Many members of this group also fly around the gorge, where the geothermal hot spots lift the thousands of feet in the air.

Oceanside Open organizer Mark Sanzone was kind enough to invite me out this year to soak up the event and go on a tandem flight.

I wasn’t quite sure what I was getting myself into. Really all I knew was I’d run off a cliff and then dangle from a parachute over the ocean for a while.

My stomach fluttered as we stood near the cliff’s edge, waiting for the wind to pick up. Because we had to depend so much on nature, there was no natural countdown like there is in so many other adrenaline-pumping events. So rather than gearing up mentally, it was “Go. Run!” and it was time to take off.

We tore as quickly as we could down the gravel runway, through the grass and even over some of the brush before the jet stream lifted us on our way.

Because I was so focused on running as fast as possible, there was no time to be nervous or worried. Next thing I knew, we were weightlessly drifting toward the rolling tide.

The aerial view of a hillside of houses lifting up from the sandy beach was beautiful. Watching the tide come in from a seagull’s view was more peaceful than I ever could have imagined.

Then, suddenly, it was time to prep for landing.

The winds weren’t at ideal strength by 12:30, when Dave and I took off. We came down with our eyes focused on a neon green circle in the sand. While making our descent, we hit what Dave called a drop zone. We dropped. Quickly.

Instead of reaching the target, we landed on the seats of our pants well away from the circle.

Later on in the day, several individual pilots fared much better in the spot landing competition. Some even landed directly on the target. It was a sight to see and several passersby stopped to take in the spectacle.

Not many of them went up to the top of the cliff to run off though. And that’s a shame.

A man in the parking lot was explaining to a young lady that, “If you ever wonder why birds sing, you won’t after you go flying up there.”

He was right: It’s definitely an experience worth singing about.

You can learn more about how to set up your own tandem flight by visiting discoverparagliding.com.