This paragraph will bridge the centuries, span the globe and deposit us somewhere completely unexpected. The story starts with the invention of the kite in China nearly 3,000 years ago. The next stop is Maui, where in the late 1990s kites were combined with surfboards to formally create the sport of kitesurfing. And now, in 2010, we arrive at a lagoon in Western Sahara.

Western Sahara is a place in limbo. It exists geographically (hence its geographically precise name) but not politically. The United Nations does not officially recognize either of the two main sovereign claims. For the past 35 years, the territory has effectively formed the two southernmost provinces of Morocco, though many African countries consider it to be the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic and maintain diplomatic links with a provisional government currently exiled in Algeria.

How did we get from kites to an intractable dispute on the edge of the world’s biggest desert? We were carried here by the wind.

When the ancient Chinese launched their flimsy silk and bamboo kites, they forged an intimate connection between humans and the air currents that eddy and gust around us. Over the intervening millennia, we have learned to harness that invisible turbulence for transport, for energy and for recreation.

Kitesurfing is pure recreation. It is a sport that was initially conceived, in part, to enable surfers to tack from wave to wave. But as specialized boards and purpose-designed kites were introduced, a new dimension was added: flight.

From the shore, it looks effortless. Kitesurfers zip across the water and then, seemingly at will, lift up into the air. Temporarily free of gravity’s clutch, they arc to 20 or 30 feet, twisting and pirouetting, before touching down with barely a splash. The sheer exuberance of the spectacle masks the skill required to master this sport and glosses over the constant specter of mortal danger.

Each time they take off, kitesurfers put their faith in a judgment they make on the shore. They bring with them a selection of kites of different sizes. It is critically important to pick the right size of kite for the conditions. If they make the wrong choice, they will be lifted too high and too far. In addition, they must observe strict safety margins to avoid catastrophically crossing lines with other kitesurfers.

Kitesurfing evolved by trial and error. The pioneers mapped out the parameters, honed the equipment and improved the safety levels (often at the expense of their own safety). Now that the sport has moved mainstream, the new frontier is the search for perfect kitesurfing locations. The ideal venue will offer a consistent onshore breeze, relatively calm water and a soft shoreline without rocky outcrops.

And so, by fortuitous geological accident, one of the best places in the world to kitesurf turns out to be Dakhla in Western Sahara, a 15-mile-long coastal lagoon surrounded on three sides by desert dunes. The warm wind that blasts unrelentingly off the Atlantic has been used by local fishermen for generations. Little did they realize that it was more valuable than any catch. Thanks to its breeze, Dakhla is reaping an unlikely tourism lift.

And so we arrive with our bulky equipment to camp on the lagoon’s shore under the Saharan sky. Each day we select our kites and take to the water. No matter how much experience we accumulate, the adrenaline pumps each time the wind lifts us into the air. We are at the mercy of the elements and can only hope that we won’t be deposited somewhere completely unexpected. On the beach, for instance.