Smells Like Dairy Air: Kites On Ice 2000

By Phil Broder

Once again, how do you describe the magical madness of Madison? Do you mention the incredible amount of nylon soaring overhead on perfect winds? Do you look lower to the roughly 50,000 spectators clogging the ice, bike path, and convention center? Do you try to describe the endless string of amazing single line creations, buttkicking stunt kite demos, busloads of schoolkids flying their own kites, the rows of banners lining the ice? Should we mention the impressive organization of Linda Underwood, Kristi Kent-Bracken, Tiffany Lamkins, and a host of volunteers? Or can we just say that by the end of the weekend, spectators were parking on the opposite side of the lake and walking across, just to get there quicker? Kites On Ice has done in two years what it's taken Wildwood more than a decade to accomplish, so I'll just tell some of the stories from a weekend of frozen fun….

Is Janene Evard Worth $2?

A few people are skeptics, and always will be. One woman asked Janene Evard if her kitemaking workshop was really worth the $2 admission fee. Janene politely explained that the workshop included all the materials to make a $50 kite. No word on if the skeptic actually showed up or not.

Richard Makes A New Friend

The festival organizers wanted to invite the AKA President, so they called Richard Dermer. The old silver-tongued devil never let on that he wasn't the boss anymore. But on Saturday, Richard spent some time chatting up a spectator while flying his parafoil. Nearly an hour later, the man returned with a hot chocolate for Richard. We can only hope that Richard signed him up as an AKA member on the spot.

That White Stuff Is Snow

A few folks pointed out that Michael Alvares had actually seen snow before, in Japan. Alvares claimed that it had only been a tiny patch, and that the thick whiteness blanketing Wisconsin was new to him. No worries for the wild-eyed Aussie; he flew his cellulars all around the convention center, then handed out wooden kangaroos.

Crushed By Fish

Popularity sucks. Anne Clement and Yves Laforest set up four fugus, and were promptly overwhelmed by shrieking kids. The fish bounced up and down all day, rolling over all ages equally. The problem was that they were set up too close to the kiteskiers' landing zone. The crowds spilled over, and the skiers spent the day cursing the fugus.

A Well-Stocked Mini-Bar

The Decorators have their priorities figured out. Within minutes of establishing base camp on the ice, they had piled up a small mound of snow and set several bottles a-chillin'. Throughout the weekend they flew their Revs right up to the convention center windows, to the delight of those inside. Finally, on Sunday, Nic Boothby won the "Best Hat" contest by balancing a goblet, bowl, and saucerful of Sweet'n'Low on his bald pate. And since conventional wisdom has it that "Best Hat" winner is the guy with the best butt, Nic obligingly dropped trou' in the restaurant.

Jinxed Him

Pete Dolphin's Man in the Moon flew steadily overhead most of the weekend, and he started to run a spinning line climber up to it. With microphone in hand, I turned toward Pete and announced to the crowd what he was doing. The climber rose to the kite, slid back down, and immediately the kite rolled over, went tits up, and crashed straight downward. Pete blamed me.

Air Traffic Control Fails

Pierre Fabre launched a large kite with a trio of striped tails. Ray Bethell launched a trio of kites with striped tails. Like attracts like. The result wasn't pretty, nor was what came out of the Leathery One's mouth.

You Want Who?

A spectator approached me holding a program and asked where they could find the flyer from North Dakota. It took me a second to figure out she meant Mike Gee. You've arrived, Mike; your fan club is growing.

Words To The Wise

As I strolled toward a giant octopus, a familiar voice rang out, "That's both dangerous AND stupid!" A very to-the-point way of warning spectators not to wrap tentacles around themselves, wouldn't you say, Mr. Gomberg? David's legendary love of children is second only to his passion for their parents. Still, the three octopuses (octopi? octopoda? calamari?) in red, black, and turquoise looked awesome. So did Gomberg's new Skyfoil (this is a completely unsolicited review and has nothing to do with the fact that I'm angling for a price break on the aforementioned big lifter).

A Very Solid Marriage

Anne and Chris Harris are the Rock of Marital Gibraltar. They stalwartly flew their dinosaurs all weekend, then headed for the bar on Sunday night. While Anne drained a bootful of beer to the cheers of the assembled masses, Chris never raised his head from whatever he was writing.

The College Punk

I shared a room with 19-year-old Torrey Lindemann. Torrey's mother, Bev, wanted me to know that she thinks I spend too much time writing about the less-than-wholesome aspects of kiting, like the "drag" races in Muncie. So for you, Bev, I won't even mention the married woman I found in our hotel room on Sunday afternoon (Pete McMasters, it's 5 o'clock, do you know where your wife is?). And I certainly won't bring up the rumor I heard about young Torrey and a member of the Valley Girlz getting a little something going on in Wildwood last spring. All of this is probably just unfounded rumor anyway.

Day-Glo Cephalopods

Jack Rogers brought all his big toys, plus a new one: a lime green Skysquid. Yup, it's large, and yup, it's cool looking. But it really shines at sunset. No, really. Somehow this kite holds the light, and even after dark it was still glowing, a lovely shade of toxic waste green that slowed traffic along the highway. Speaking of toxic, Jack then changed into a tuxedo for the banquet.

Mexican Radio

You know that the media coverage is good when you're in Wisconsin and Jose Sainz can be heard giving an interview in Spanish to a TV station.

A.K.A.A.A.

When we're done flying, we all know what happens next. Leading the band of merrymakers - Chewning, Gibian, Sainz, and Trepanier -- into the bar was Scott Skinner, the new leader of the AKA Al-Anon group. Just say, "I'm a friend of Roger C." to get in.

An International Incident

There, handing off his psycho-looking quadline to the Governor of Wisconsin, was Robert Trepanier. And there, crashing into the ground, was Governor Tommy Thompson. The Guv handed the kite back to the Canadian and proclaimed it too difficult to fly. Always tactful, Robert quickly relaunched.

KAP Under Glass

Inside, Craig Wilson's display of aerial photos stopped traffic. And as the pileup grew, the inevitable happened: a British soccer game broke out, and the exhibit got knocked over. Sure, we could say that Craig's photos are smashing, but they're also smashed.

Hey Bert!

German's Sven Weidhase, Andreas Schmeelke, and Frank Schwiemann had all sorts of stuff flying: the giant Bert & Ernie, an assortment of pyrodeltas, and a monstrous thing with three eyes and eight legs and hundreds of little patches that left spectators grasping for a name. Who needs names when you've got that much ripstop?

Hats Are In Style

As we already said, Nic Boothby won the "Best Hat" contest. But he had tough competition. Anne Harris wore a red crocodile, which one pundit said "looks like an alligator having a bowel movement." Robert Trepanier had woven a variety of prairie grasses into a harvestfest-on-your -head creation that was just a Bic lighter away from being truly spectacular. The Gombergs wore matching, well, whatever they were, they matched. Roger Chewning's hat looked like something from the wardrobe of a transvestite rice paddy worker. What can I say, Bev Lindemann, sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.

Put all these tales together, and you've got a festival that equals the best America has to offer. Like Wildwood, Madison has become a "must" event. Get some longjohns next winter, and head toward the land of dairy air.