Wow, what fun we used to have!
I can feel the chill right now as I write this, the numbing wind and breeze washing over the lake, up the hill, and meeting us with a vengeance at the top, but nothing stopped us. How many times we were caught in the rain, but everyone's kites remained in the air, some so high they resembled nothing more than a speck in the sky!
I'll never forget the day baby brother took his brand new, Santa Claus delivered kite out for the very first time. Dad had prepared him well, with a spool of string twice that of the other kids, and away we went. In no time at all, dear brother had his kite flying high, and with much excited coaxing and egging-on from friends and onlookers, for baby brother to let more string out, and let it out he did. I remember the string peeling off the spool so fast, it made a whirring sound, and just like that, TWANG! The last of the string snapped from the spool and dear brother's kite was free, flying under it's own command.
I'll never forget the look of shock and defeat that washed over dear brothers face, all while he held onto the now empty stiff-cardboard string tube. We watched in suspense as the kite drifted farther and farther away, slowly loosing altitude while coasting through the air directly over the lake. "Is it going to make it", we all asked, watching helplessly as the kite sailed on, while the whole time feeling broken for sweet baby brother.
That kite flew and flew, and just like a good edge of your seat, spine-tingling, nail-biting suspense movie, it drew us in more and more, minute by minute, second by second, "it's going to make it", a few shouted... "no it's not", a few added. Down, down, down the kite travelled, getting closer and closer to the water as each second passed. Dear brother now in hysterics and on the verge of tears. Seconds felt like hours as we watched hopelessly, the kite now so far away it looked like a dot.
With butterflies in our stomachs, it happened, baby brothers kite made it! It fly under it's own direction from one side of the lake to the other, touching down on a sandy beach directly across from us. "Yippee... hooray", echoed repeatedly among us, as we all stood in amazement that the kite wasn't lost to the frigid, cold, white-capped waters. But what to do?
With not a second wasted, away we went, running for home as fast as our legs would take us, and arriving out of breath, baby brother began telling the story to mom and dad, pacing back and forth, forth and back, "we got to go get it... we got to go find it"! Pushing himself up from the kitchen table and away from his morning coffee, dad ushered everyone into the car, and away we went! Our chatter and excitement now at a crescendo, over the bridge, hang a left, hang a right, then straightaway down the old road... "it's here, no... it's farther ahead, no... we've driven past it", keep going"... everyone excited over where to have dad park the car.
"Stop... stop... it's here, it's right here"! Out we all bolted, across the roadway, and down the gully and onto the beach... baby brother lunging for his lost kite, "I got it, I got it"!
What a day that was, and to this day it serves as being the most memorable kite-flying experience I ever witnessed. Both from the standpoint as to how high dear old baby brothers kite rose to that day, and how far that old kite travelled once it was free from the control of the spool.
Hope my story sparks a few stories or memories from others.
I can feel the chill right now as I write this, the numbing wind and breeze washing over the lake, up the hill, and meeting us with a vengeance at the top, but nothing stopped us. How many times we were caught in the rain, but everyone's kites remained in the air, some so high they resembled nothing more than a speck in the sky!
I'll never forget the day baby brother took his brand new, Santa Claus delivered kite out for the very first time. Dad had prepared him well, with a spool of string twice that of the other kids, and away we went. In no time at all, dear brother had his kite flying high, and with much excited coaxing and egging-on from friends and onlookers, for baby brother to let more string out, and let it out he did. I remember the string peeling off the spool so fast, it made a whirring sound, and just like that, TWANG! The last of the string snapped from the spool and dear brother's kite was free, flying under it's own command.
I'll never forget the look of shock and defeat that washed over dear brothers face, all while he held onto the now empty stiff-cardboard string tube. We watched in suspense as the kite drifted farther and farther away, slowly loosing altitude while coasting through the air directly over the lake. "Is it going to make it", we all asked, watching helplessly as the kite sailed on, while the whole time feeling broken for sweet baby brother.
That kite flew and flew, and just like a good edge of your seat, spine-tingling, nail-biting suspense movie, it drew us in more and more, minute by minute, second by second, "it's going to make it", a few shouted... "no it's not", a few added. Down, down, down the kite travelled, getting closer and closer to the water as each second passed. Dear brother now in hysterics and on the verge of tears. Seconds felt like hours as we watched hopelessly, the kite now so far away it looked like a dot.
With butterflies in our stomachs, it happened, baby brothers kite made it! It fly under it's own direction from one side of the lake to the other, touching down on a sandy beach directly across from us. "Yippee... hooray", echoed repeatedly among us, as we all stood in amazement that the kite wasn't lost to the frigid, cold, white-capped waters. But what to do?
With not a second wasted, away we went, running for home as fast as our legs would take us, and arriving out of breath, baby brother began telling the story to mom and dad, pacing back and forth, forth and back, "we got to go get it... we got to go find it"! Pushing himself up from the kitchen table and away from his morning coffee, dad ushered everyone into the car, and away we went! Our chatter and excitement now at a crescendo, over the bridge, hang a left, hang a right, then straightaway down the old road... "it's here, no... it's farther ahead, no... we've driven past it", keep going"... everyone excited over where to have dad park the car.
"Stop... stop... it's here, it's right here"! Out we all bolted, across the roadway, and down the gully and onto the beach... baby brother lunging for his lost kite, "I got it, I got it"!
What a day that was, and to this day it serves as being the most memorable kite-flying experience I ever witnessed. Both from the standpoint as to how high dear old baby brothers kite rose to that day, and how far that old kite travelled once it was free from the control of the spool.
Hope my story sparks a few stories or memories from others.
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... there's still quite a bit of kite flying goes on here.. I have some photos somewhere I'll have to try and find them...
