Above Stinson
by Kate Rope, San Francisco Magazine, June, 2000

I have always wanted to fly, to move free from the earth, looking down upon it. And Bodhi Kroll granted my wish, taking me high into the Stinson Beach sky. From 2,000 feet on Mount Tam, Kroll, owner of the San Francisco Hang Gliding Center and instructor for 11 years, launches some of the only tandem hang gliding rides in the country. Kroll met me at our takeoff point, and there was no time for nerves. He told me he'd drive (it takes 15 lessons to fly solo) and taught me the two things I needed to know - where to put my hands (one on his shoulder, the other far from the control bar) and how to run for the launch. We practiced once, and we were ready.

Every dream of flying comes down to the moment when you jump into the air and, unbelievably, it supports you. It was an exhilarating, Earth-defying thrill. "Don't you feel like that bird?" asked Kroll, pointing to a turkey vulture doing lazy circles in the same wind lift that was carrying us away from the round children's-book treetops sprouting from the blanket of green. "Yes!" I responded breathlessly, and then we fell silent, our ears filled with the rush of wind. We ascended for as long as we could, Kroll working hard, shifting his weight to grab each gust and pull us higher. We were lucky - the flight can last seven to thirty minutes, and today the wind was giving us a really good ride. But, finally, it was time to head into the valley and toward our landing strip - the beach. I felt suspended, safely hung from the sky like Sandy Duncan in Peter Pan, when she flew over the audience attached to a wire. We looked down on the people and houses of Stinson Beach, and Kroll asked if I wanted to have the ride last longer or do tricks. "Tricks!" I said, so we shot out over the ocean for a series of wingovers. We flew straight at the water, the turquoise froth calling us into it, and then, last minute, whoosh, we turned skyward, saved from a watery grave. I whooped with glee. But soon we dropped softly into the sand, and the dream was over. I wanted to tug on Kroll's sleeve and plead, "Can we do it again?"