Un post del foro de BigAir sobre la adiccion que crea el parapente - perdon que vaya en ingles, pero por ahi al traducir se pierde la "esencia" del mensaje :)

- dedicado especialmente a Adrian Marconetto

Author: Anon Instructor and Tandem Guy
I used to consider myself a reasonable and responsible adult, a family man, professional, and fine upstanding member of society.

I thought I had my shit under control. I was master of my universe.

I'd tried other stuff, and though it was great, I could see the long-term downside, and was able to walk away.

I thought it would be the same with this shit. I could take it or leave it. I'm a man.

I took a weekend course. The first day was frustrating. More like horse hooked to a plow than flying. At the end of the first day, I actually took a high flight. The devil made sure I caught a big gentle thermal right off launch, and I could hear my instructor yelling "turn" into the radio. I turned. The bastard.

I had a 1/3 flight, drifting over the valley and enjoying the scenery. I got comfortable with the gear. I circled and made figure 8s. I was talked through a gentle 2-step landing.

I was hooked.

I hung my head in shame, and realized I wasn't go to walk away from this one. Soon I was spending every spare moment out trying to fly. I also fell in love with the gear. I wanted more and more. It was like the sensuous curves of your lover's body. It yielded to my demands for pleasure, and never requested more than a dry place to wait for my next request to serve.

Soon my work suffered. Big deal, what's that got to do with flying?

I lost touch with my family and friends.

I sold my decent wheels, and got a beater so I could afford a new wing.

After a couple of years, I became a dealer. I enticed the innocent into this addiction, just because it would make new gear cheaper.

I give it away free the first time, just to get them hooked. I have been paid with sex.

Does your daughter want to learn to fly? The first tandem is free.