Kiteboarding in Baja Part 2

Nick was a San Francisco restauranteur with a string of successes that freed him to do whatever he wanted. It’s his second season here and second season kiting. He spent years as a chef on sailboats but has a front-of-house personality. We both appreciate delicious food so, when Doug went home for Christmas, Nick and I started sampling the culinary delights of La Ventana together. 

Nick says that on the water I look like Mr. Magoo. It could be the pork pie hat. Mine has ear flaps that I attach below my chin. No doubt Doug’s oversized harness-board-shorts that I wear over my wetsuit and the big puffy yellow lifejacket add to the dork factor since most kiters wear form-fitted costumes and certainly no oversized flotation. My costume screams beginner. Good thing too. Other kiters veer away when they see me coming.

There are a multitude of board types on the water. Twintips are the easiest to learn and are the best for doing big aerial tricks. Surfboard kiting is harder to learn but the boards are better for riding swells. Foil kiting is the hardest to learn. Once moving, a standing platform lifts up out of the water leaving a thin wing in the water for a smooth fast ride even in the lightest wind. Kiters progress from one to the next to stay challenged. Doug foils and makes it look effortless. Often he comes in after a long session having not fallen. Clearly he needs to find a new sport. 

As storms rolled across the western US, a high pressure zone moved into southern Baja and killed the wind. The waiting and hoping for the wind to return made me antsy. I thought of leaving. But I’m close to a kiting breakthrough and would hate to miss it after all the thrashings. A few days ago, I realized that I was only redlining my stress meter on launch and landing. Once on the water my stress level had dropped to 65 percent, a relief by comparison. A week ago it was pegged at hundred percent from the time I thought of going out until I was safely back in. On the last wind day I got lots of long rides and managed to land without crashing my kite for the first time ever. But upwind kiting still eludes me, and every session still ends with a long trudge back to where I started. 

Non-kiting days are a challenge. What to do? In the morning I’ve been taking out the paddleboard, the same one that I swore I would never touch again, and then discovered how fun it was to surf on. The calm sea is clear and flat with occasional ripples when zephyrs grace the surface. I paddle a couple of miles south, around a buoy, and return. The bottom changes from rocky reef to sand and back again several times. Over the reefs I see colorful tropical fish and bits of green coral. Over sand I see schools of needle fish, most are small but some are up to two feet long. I hope to see a ray but haven’t so far. I paddle the whole time, trying to be efficient, trying to go in a straight line, trying to get a workout. 

Some afternoons Doug and I take out his e-bikes and head to one of the mountain biking trail systems. The southern trails are flat and flowy as they wind through a desert jungle with giant saguaros. The northern trails climb gradually into the hills and offer spectacular views of the bay, with well designed curvy drops back to town. 

Other times I take a long walk on the southern beach. Sometimes I find baby sea-turtles stranded up on the sand. They are about an inch and a half long and look cute and helpless.  I know I shouldn’t help them, but I put some back in the water anyway. The next wave inevitably washes them up on shore again. They are often disoriented and crawl away from the water. Most will die. I heard that only one in a hundred make it into the sea. I guess the birds need to eat too.

Nick introduces Doug and me to a carnitas taco stand that is only open on Monday and Friday mornings. They have the cheapest tacos in town and possibly also the best.  Usually they run out of food by 11:00 am. We meet Brad, a charter captain on vacation, kiting here for the first time. Nick explains what type of kiting we do. “I mostly twintip and am learning surfboard. Doug foils.” Then he looks at me with a barely perceptible head shake and grin and says, “He drinks water.”

It’s true, but I don’t feel diminished by the description. Failing and trying engages my mind as well as my body. I’ve spent hours watching instructional videos on how to water start, how to kite upwind, and how to launch and land, and how to change direction. I’ve spent hours staring out to sea, watching the wind and swell to learn their patterns. I’ve spent hours watching good kiteboarders execute their tricks, studying their body positions, kite and board angles, and transitions. And I’ve spent hours awake at night thinking about how to move and how it should feel in my body to do things properly. No, to be so incompetent and try so hard does not make me feel bad. It makes me feel young.

Epilogue

The wind came up again today. With lots of long reaches, fighting my way up wind, and making few directional transitions where I tend to lose ground, I managed to land on the same beach as I started. The accomplishment was met with fist bumps and big smiles from everyone at Dean’s, many saying “Congratulations! You’re a kiter now.” It felt great, like baby steps from here to there without falling. Now I can’t wait to run. I’d swear dark hair is returning to my gray beard. 

Photo by Doug Ward