Paragliding in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. My personal story of dancing in the air.
It’s mid-afternoon on a Friday, and I’m standing on a mountain overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
The sun is high and hot overhead, but below me. About 550 feet below, panga boats zoom in and out of the cove that houses the village of Yelapa, Mexico; a smattering of palapas and casas, an hour by boat from Puerto Vallarta.
Around me, a half dozen paragliders wearing T-shirts, shorts and hiking shoes, unravel their gear from 45-pound packs, getting ready to launch. Their nylon . . .
