I arrived at North Havelock (30 k south of Napier), then drove to Te Mata (a regional park with a 400 m (approx 1200

foot peak) where hang glider ramps and a paraglider launch site were evident. Sheer limestone cliffs. Breathtaking. Scary. Found the landing zone, and drove down to see the return road route. Looking up at the launch site was scary. Just a short Vee-shaped indentation in the cliff. Called the local paraglider instructor. Met him at 2 pm, cause he had a tentative tandem customer. While we waited he briefed me on the launch, winds, where to soar for lift, (and where not to). Naturally there was a large audience. I laid out the wing while standing on the cliff edge. Scared to death! (Much more dramatic launch site than anything in Hawaii.) Reverse launch. Raised the wing, pumped it, turn and launched to great cheers. First time I'd been applauded on launch. I soared! Great lift working figure 8s along the cliffs. Good ridge lift, and thermals as well. I settled in and worked the lift. (Remember -- altitude is your friend!) I incorporated several suggestions that Dave, the instructor from Lyttleton gave me. Then as the sea breeze waned, and the cumulus clouds gathered I eased down, doing a few spirals and easy "S" curves, and landed nicely in the paddock (field) near the road, packed my wing, sat on the top of the stile and watched the next paraglider set up. He reset his wing numerous times before launching, but he caught more lift than I did after launch. Well now my car is back at the peak, so I thumbed it, catching a ride with a NZ Post (Office) rural carrier to the base of the park, then another ride back to the peak. Weather had changed as it always does in NZ, and rain threatened. Didn't

want to see if my wing will fly as it fills with rain -- so I went looking for a backpacker bed.

Happy Good Friday, Thursday started overcast, but around noon, the sun burst through, and I escaped the Napier prison to fly away. After stopping in town for a MacDonalds breakfast (a rare treat) I drove up to Te Mata. Low patches of mist scooted toward the peak from the Pacific 3 miles to the east, hitting the ridge at about 3/4 the height, then accellerating up and over. Talk about "reading" the wind. I could see it in the action of the mist. After observing for about an hour, the low misty clouds were replaced by sunshine, but the wind remained fairly strong. I laid out my wing for launch, and almost got blown up over the mountain. So I gathered it up to lay it out on the parking lot. Had another chance to "read" the wind. Several spectators held the leading edge of the wing up (that's the opening where the air enters the wing, becoming "trapped" by the closed trailing edge, thus forming a aerodynamic shape that will fly), and the trailing edge actually was blowing back to me! That told me that the wind blowing so strongly from the east and up the cliff was creating a vacuum, sucking the air from the top of the cliff from the west. Interesting reading. I noticed several lulls in the easterly winds, so, with help I laid the wing out again to launch. When the wind rose, I pulled the wing up by the "A" line risers, did an about-face, and I'm flying straight up and out. What a launch!! (but no cheers and applause from this audience). I need to sell tickets if I

continue to do these death defying cliff launches! Got great lift as I soared along the ridge. It was like in a IMAX movie where the helicopter camera pans the ridge as the chopper climbs up and over the cliff. Here, just below the cliff top, the dynamic wind lifts me as if I were on an elevator, to reveal the hills and valleys beyond the cliff face that remains stationary. Visually the background seems to move in relationship to the foreground. Got so much lift I actually soared higher than the peak, looking down at the parking lot. After 30 minutes of slow figure 8's at the cliff face, I feel the wind slowly dying, and I begin a slow descent, with occasional brief thermic lift as I glide over the foothills and fields. Watching the grazing sheep grow from white dots to recognizable wool carriers, I scan the wind sock on the fence line in the landing zone field, do a crosswind approach, a final into the easterly wind, floating down gently. Then on final, about 10 feet from final flare I catch a gust, I counter it, catch another, until I finally touch down. A roller-coaster landing. I then saw the line of trees near the winery across the road, and know that as the wind came over the trees it created a rotor ( an unpredictable looping wind). What a flight! After packing it up, I climb over the stile to the road to thumb it back up. Nobody will stop. After sprinkling rain, I decide on a desperate strategy. I strip off my jacket to display my manly chest in my Waikiki tee shirt, slip out of my nylon flight slacks (walking shorts underneath) to display my muscular legs. It works. An Italian tourist skids to a stop, she runs around the car to open my door, apologizes for her cars mechanical

condition, and drives me to the base of the mountain, where I catch another lift from the Peak Restaurant van back to my car. It's now pouring rain. Back to Prison. I finished the book Poisonwood Bible.- and retire early. After all, I'm 56 now, with more years behind me than in front, so I need my rest. I got up at 5:00 a.m. to write this. Early to bed, early to rise - nobody else on the internet. Well off to Gisbourne, and then the East Cape today. Gotta be the first person in the whole world to see the Easter sunrise. (There are a few minor islands closer to the International Dateline, but I hear the small populations sleep late!) John