Near Disaster at The Cut

Brad and I were in a bad situation and we knew it. We were at The Cut, famous for chewing puny little humans up and spitting them out like inconsequential bits of flotsam. Kites pumped, we were looking forward to a great session, completely unaware of how this would end. I was about to launch when I suddenly felt that something wasn't quite right. I looked out at the water and my heart stopped. I couldn't believe what I saw. No wind. How could this be?! It had been windy 2 minutes ago! It was a trap. It must be. And we had walked into it like baby seals into the gaping maw of a Great White. I didn't see any way to get out of this alive. Brad was fearless though. He suggested we pack the whole mess up and drive over to Buzzards Bay on the strength of a tiny blue line on the wind forecast graph. That tiny blue line turned out to be our lifeline. Buzzards Bay had wind! We were saved. At least I was. Brad had some bad luck matching the right kite to the right wind at the right time. It was a trap within a trap. But for me, my life had been renewed. This is what makes one appreciate every remaining minute of this gift of life. To come face to face with one's own mortality, with nothingness, the big skunk, and to overcome. Kitesurfed, N, 7-21, 14M Rally/Flx136, with Brad.