Read the wind before unwinding anything

On the first day I launched as soon as I reached the top, into a wind that was swinging around the trees. Now I stand still for a minute and watch the long grass. If it leans one way and stays leaning, the wind is steady enough.

The best spot turned out to be ten steps down from the summit, where nothing upwind breaks the air into pieces.

Launch from the hand, not from a run

Running with a kite looks right and works badly. What worked was holding it up by the bridle with a few metres of line out, back to the wind, and simply letting go when a gust arrived.

If it dives, drop the line slack for a second. It usually rights itself before the ground does.

Let the line out in short lengths

Let out a little, wait for the kite to climb, then let out a little more. Paying out too fast lets it sag, and a sagging kite drifts down into the lighter air near the ground.

On the third afternoon the whole line went out and the kite settled at the end of it, small and bright against a clear sky.

Bring it down before it brings itself down

When the wind starts to drop, wind in steadily without waiting. Walking toward the kite while winding keeps some tension on the line and stops the last few metres from turning into a knot.

I have not lost it yet. I have untangled it from one fence.

Write the opening on a card

Eight moves for each side, in pencil, on an index card propped against the board. Reading them aloud while moving the pieces helped more than I expected.

Play it against yourself

Moving both sides felt silly for a day and then became the useful part: I started to see why each move is there, not just where it goes.

Put the card away

On the sixth morning the card stayed in the notebook. I got to move eight without it, and then sat looking at the hills for a long time over move nine.

Clean it before judging it

A dry cloth on the shade, a damp one on the base. The texture of the shade only really showed once the dust was off.

Compare bulbs with the lamp in place

Three bulbs, tried in turn after dark with a book open on the chair. The coolest one made the shade look flat. The warmest one made the whole corner glow and the page easy to read.

Just stand on it at the bottom

The first evening was mostly rolling back and forth on the flat, getting used to how much the board moves under each foot.

Go up a little way and come back

Pushing toward the ramp, riding up a short distance and letting gravity bring me back. Leaning back is the instinct and the mistake; weight over the front foot keeps the board under you.

Wear the pads, every time

Evening four, I skipped them because it was only going to be ten minutes. It was not only ten minutes. They go on first now.

Look before touching

The shell was broken open, so there was no telling what had been recorded on it. With the tape loose and tangled on the road, whatever was on it was unlikely to play again.

Decide what kind of find it is

Some finds are projects. This one was an observation: something that used to hold music or somebody’s voice, now just a pattern of loops in the sun. I took one photograph from where I stood and walked on.

Tyres first

Both tyres were flat but held air once pumped, which saved a trip to the shop. I checked them again the next morning; still firm.

Clean and oil the chain

A rag, a lot of wiping, a few drops of oil on each link and more wiping. The difference in sound on the first ride down the street was immediate.

The headlamp

The round headlamp is the best thing about this bicycle and it does not light. I have not opened it yet; that is a separate quest with its own entry, once I know whether it wants a bulb or something more.