Banking into the turn, I learned how much easier it is to work light lift in a paraglider. With one or two turns I was back to launch level, then slightly higher. While that was hardly an accomplishment I'd even mention in my hang gliding log book, it gave me a thrill to do it for the first time under a canopy.

The lift didn't last long and soon I was flying out the mile or so of ridge before it drops off steeply to the coast. Most of the flight was only a couple of hundred feet above the ridge top, so the wonderful view was an intimate one of oaks and deer trails and valleys to both sides. I had been nervous about the lower glide ratio of my paraglider, but it soon became obvious that this was not a problem and I could just concentrate on flying and watching the spectacular scenery unfold below me. There's no other way to experience this kind of look at the world, a hundred feet over the tree tops, silently soaking it all in!

At the face of the front ridge, the open fields I would be landing in gave way to the awesome and rugged Big Sur coastline. I had plenty of altitude and cruised out towards the beach, watching the waves break on the rocky shore. Aqua water dotted with kelp and the occasional seal swirled clearly over the sandy bottom before sliding up the sloping beaches. I was alone in my bird's eye view of all this on a sunny and warm morning.

But there was no lift out here, so I banked into a turn and flew across the field to find the wind streamer along the fence. Flying into the light breeze, my paraglider settled gently down. I stepped back to earth and dropped the canopy behind me.