In retrospect, driving a motorcycle to take paragliding lessons wasn’t such a good idea. The steep, dusty, gravel-riddled mess of a dirt road leading up to Antenna Hill in Binangonan, Rizal, was not exactly ideal terrain for my scooter.
I muttered silent prayers to myself as I drove by the different stations of the cross perched on the edge of the cliffside roads. It took a lot of focus to maneuver my scooter while balancing an ice cooler with drinks strapped to the front of my bike near my feet. Art’s cruiser sputtered as he drove up with our paragliding guide Habu riding pillion, who himself was carrying a huge bag of paragliding gear. And by huge, I mean a full grown person could easily curl up in the bag and hide there.
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