In preparation for the Zilker Kite Festival, I unpacked my small stunt kite. As I dusted off the Florida sand and sandburs, I savored the long forgotten memories.

I used to own two kites. My other kite was a bigger, plain Jane version. I am rather embarrased to recount the story of why I no longer own that kite. My friends and I decided to see just how high we could get it to fly. After reeling out the thousand foot string, we were depressed that the wind was dragging it much farther downwind than it was giving it altitude. Rather than reel it back, we decided to cut it loose. I just hope that whose ever house that kite finally landed on did not mind so much, and reused it in a much better and more dignified manner.

P.S.Man, how I hated sandspurs! Those spikes were long and just tough enough to puncture skin but weak enough to occasionally break off when you tried to remove them. And they where everywhere!