Well, we packed up and partied for one final weekend in Buenos Aires. I said goodbye to the frenchies, said goodbye to my girlfriend and got on the plane to Rio to meet up with friends of my hommie, Kieran. And here we are.

This town is SO TIGHT. I'm already a huge fan. The weather is warm, the water is warmer, the girls are out of control and just walking around the city, the views are even more incredible than the pictures. On top of all that, we were welcomed here like old friends by these dudes we had never met. These guys we're staying with have lived here all their lives and know everyone and everything in Rio. They have this town locked down and they're our kind of peoples.

We've been going out all night every night, ending each one with pizza and beer at this cool little place by their house, joined by all the friends we made on the night out. This morning, still quite drunk from the night out, I realized while we were eating pizza and drinking pitchers, that Bernardo (our host) had promised me that he'd take me up to go hang gliding, just south of the city. I decided right there, that I had to go, and off we went. When we arrived, it was 8am, and the first guy up there didn't speak a lick of English, but was willing to strap me to the rig and huck off the cliff with me. He looked at me really funny because I was still wearing the clothes I ha warn out the night before. I must admit, I was a bit put off by the language barrier...you tend to want details about safety and it's nice to go over the "what if's", but I had made these guys drive me all the way up there, so there was no turning back.

After coordinating our run off the ramp with sign language, homeboy was ready to go.

I had paraglided before, and with that you have to make the same run off a cliff to get into the air, but usually, the canopy begins to lift you off the ground before you're all the way committed. Hang gliding is different. Launching the hang glider requires that you sprint straight off a 20 ft wooden ramp, and over the falls of a 400 ft cliff, before the wind takes your weight, so there's an inevitable "dive" before the "glide" even begins.

Ratner and Bernardo made sure to check my faith by trying to convince me that the 'instructor' was inebriated. They kept saying, "dude, he reeks like whisky" He's frothing at the mouth! I would NOT go with this guy, he's going to kill both of you!" I knew they were full of shit so I tried to just ignore them.

"Tudo Bem?" the instructor barked. It was game time.

We strapped in, backed up the glider 40 feet, and he counted to three in Portuguese. Then we sprinted like hell across the dirt path, and onto the ramp and finally over the falls. After a short, but hair-raising dive, we swooped up, gracefully into the air currents. As we made our way along the side of the cliff, you could look directly down into the gardens of some of Rio de Janeiro's most wealthy people. These were mansions outside the city. One even had a glass-bottom swimming pool and you could see his living room underneath it! I guess that's what money can buy in a country with the worst income inequality in the world...zero middle class, but plenty of glass-bottom swimming pools.

We soared way out over the ocean and twenty minutes later, came in for an easy landing on the beach below. I would highly recommend it. There isn't really a number to call. To find the guys who do it, you just have to go south of Le Blon and wait for them to land on the beach.