We went to see paragliders on the cliffs of La Jolla.

I thought it was pretty cool. Overpriced hot dogs and pizza for sale in one of those gray weather-beaten structures you see near the water. Drunk/high people in lawn chairs watching the paragliders soar around the landing area. Bright sun like almost always in Southern California, 75 degrees in November with a crisp breeze off the ocean.

It worked like this. People would strap on a giant parachute and run down the mild grassy slope to the cliff edge, chased by barking dogs, get caught in the updraft off the ocean, and take off.

Then they flew down the coast, turned around, and came back in a long oval of single file flying people. When they came in to land they did one of several things: landed peacefully, soared around like maniacs yelling at their friends, or crashed.

We also climbed 350 feet down the cliffs to the sea. I do not know how the surfers managed this feat- I took the stairs.

On the beach at the bottom, we discovered a scene of breathtaking beauty, and also naked people. Naked people sunbathing, naked people standing around like statues, naked people playing volleyball and changing their kids’ diapers.

Here is a painting of the breathtaking scene. (Naked people not pictured.)