5 for 5 in Speikboden

On Monday, the morning after our flight from Scuol we aired out Bruce’s reserve and got it packed back up and came up with a plan. Much of the eastern Alps were now looking possibly very good for Tuesday, even “Hammertag” good, depending on what forecast you were using. A big heat wave was moving in from North Africa which meant the air might be more stable, but with the summer solstice only a couple days away, we had very long days to work with. To me, the Pinzgau (the area near Salzburg) looked the best. But it was totally unknown to both of us and Bruce was very keen on Speikboden, a place that pilots often do monster triangles on good days that stretch into the Dolomites on their southern turnpoint and a place that had completely shut us down last year with rain. He was hungry to return. Bruce can be very convincing and in this case there was no way of talking him out of Speikboden, even though to me it seemed like the location was taking preference on weather. And Bruce follows the weather in the Alps more closely than anyone so I’m always more than happy to go where he says to go.

 

Pilots on launch, Speikboden

Pilots on launch, Speikboden

 

Speikboden was an easy 3 ½ hour drive across a bit of Austria to Innsbruck and over the Brenner pass into Italy.  It was a gorgeous day, but too windy to do much with so it was a good day for relocating.  We’d paid a ridiculous amount of Swiss francs the night before for a small plate of steamed veggies and a couple beers and now we were back in the land of 8 euro pizzas and 4 dollar arugula salads with shaved parmesan.  I love Italy.  On the way down Bruce received one message after another for fellow pilots coming in from Zurich and other distant ports who were also betting on Speikboden.  For once we’d have a big gaggle of pilots to show us the way.  Or…maybe not.  Read on.

We dropped the Niviuk mobile off at a Fiat dealership in Brunico to have some work done on the clutch and carried on to Sand in Taufers, the town below Speikboden and pulled out the dweeb machines and began planning our flight.  Waypoints were laid for a 200 km fai triangle, and just in case it was really good, the site record of 235 km.  By dinner the daily German newsletter forecast had been downgraded from “Hammertag” that morning to “Good” in the afternoon and was now “Maybe”.  The Pinzgau, just over the pass from us was still showing “hammertag,” but the winds still looked light and we couldn’t see why it wouldn’t be an awesome day.

 

Just after launch, heading west under nice lifty clouds- note the height of 3539 meters. Not bad for 10:30!

Just after launch, heading west under nice lifty clouds- note the height of 3539 meters. Not bad for 10:30!

There were maybe 3 dozen pilots on launch early the next day.  We were pretty fired up to have some competent pilots in the air flying fast and showing us the route.  I’d had one very short flight here last year and only knew the route by computer.  But everything on launch was different than expected.  What was supposed to be stable clearly wasn’t- huge Cu’s were teeing off by 0900 and we had a strong wind coming out of the north east, and we were supposed to have very light southerlies.  In my mind it was still totally launch-able, but from the opposite side than normal and this seemed to dismay the locals.  Everyone just sat around while the sky just kept getting better and better, even too good- it seemed if it was going ballistic this early it would OD.  I was starting to get really impatient and finally Bruce could wait no longer.  “Skipper, I’m going!”  Thank goodness.  It was clearly time to go and even with wind coming the wrong way, our only real risk was bombing out, but that seemed a very small risk with our sky.

 

Looking towards the Dolomites, starting to go ballistic

Looking towards the Dolomites, starting to go ballistic

 

Sure enough Bruce climbed out quickly and I followed in short order while the locals remained on the ridge.  I think the sheep mentality was operating strongly.  In no time we were at base at an impressive 3500 meters and shooting directly towards the first waypoint 55km’s to the west.  Usually you have to make a move to the south facing main ridge off launch, but we already had such a high base there was no need.  My biggest concern was the sky- several cumulus clouds were growing way too fast this early in the day and it started looking like a serious OD was almost certain.

30 km’s into the flight one of the clouds we were climbing under starting spitting a little bit of hail, then some light rain.  I don’t like flying in rain, especially on the IcePeak and everything to our south, towards the Dolomites was getting gray and nasty looking.  Bruce and I got into serious Chatty Kathy mode.  We were both nervous and clearly Plan A, a big triangle that included the Dolomites was not in the cards.  And we had a lot more wind than was forecasted.  20 kilometers of South was our baseline, and at times quite a bit more.  We were supposed to have less than 10.  The sky to our north looked perfect.  But we had no idea where to go.  This option wasn’t something we’d considered and we had no idea where the mountains led.  If it seriously OD’d my concern was of course rain and a gust front, and I was also concerned that if we went even deeper the winds would be worse.

 

Heading to the first turnpoint, overdevelopment getting serious to the left (south)

Heading to the first turnpoint, overdevelopment getting serious to the left (south)

 

As we approached the first turn point we’d climbed to 4,000 meters without working at it.  Everything was going up, and going up strongly.  It wasn’t scary yet, but it was getting close.  From the turnpoint the obvious route to me was just to carry on west, directly over the big mountains and fly towards Scuol.  I thought I’d remembered a valley from looking at Google Earth we could follow if we just carried on about another 10 km.  But below us was only solid snow and that 10km would be pretty gripping if our lift ran out. And we couldn’t see the valley, so it was a big toss of the dice.

We had to make a decision.  Run west, or turn back and land, or turn back and run north.  We took a couple more looks around.  My hope was that the OD to the south would put a blanket on the heating and rather than rain and get nasty, it would just quiet things down.  Bruce agreed so we turned back into the wind and stomped full bar and slowly made our way back towards Meran. A guy on a Sigma who must have launched around when we did took the turnpoint a little less deeply than we did and was out in front of me heading back as well.  A cloud suddenly appeared just in front of him and hoovered him straight up like someone upstairs had a God-sized vacuum cleaner.  He got on big ears in due order and the cloud mellowed out but that was enough for him, I watched him take big ears all the way to the ground.  Time for a Red Bull.

 

where to go?

where to go?

 

We made the glide back across Vipiteno to the main ridge system and took shelter up a smaller valley called Val de Vizze which had we just flown right up and gone over the back led right to Mayrhofen, which would have been RAD!  But we didn’t know that at the time and opted instead to climb out and head north towards Innsbruck, down the east side of the Brenner pass.  The OD had sufficiently eliminated all the sun in the valleys below us, but there was still plenty of lift.  The flying actually went from rather sketchy to pretty enjoyable.  It was still nerve-wracking watching the stuff to our south, but blue sky and acceptable cumulus clouds were all we had to the north.  We just had to get there.  About 110km’s into the flight we’d reached the last ridge before Innsbruck with awesome and fast flying.  It was only 3 pm- all we had to do was turn right and head towards the Pinzgau and we’d maybe even make Kitzbuhel.  Thankfully I had the Innsbruck airspace in my Flytec and we knew it was significant, but neither of us really knew how big.  Suddenly my airspace alarm was going off and when I switched to the map page I realized we were in trouble.  We had to get a huge climb and stick in the mountains, or we had to stay very close to the trees and land.  We never got the climb.  Bruce carried on east and I turned back west and flew right down the border of the airspace and back around to a west facing slope that had some sun on it where I hoped I could ping out but I didn’t have enough height.  I walked a few kilometers, got a ride to the Autobahn tollway, then got another ride to the train station and hopped on a train to Brunico.  Bruce was on the same train.

 

Our best option by far

Our best option by far

 

As always, with 20/20 hindsight it turns out we should have just carried on as big flights were done from Scuol and HUGE flights were done in the Pinzgau, but given what we had to work with and our lack of local knowledge, the yank and the aussie did ok today.  I got 5 flights on this quick 12 day Euro trip and all of them were Chocolates (100+km, which was considerably better than the run we had in May).  They were all quite a bit of work, but each had some pretty special moments.  We had by a wide margin the longest flights from Speikboden, but we also talked quite a bit about risk on that train-ride home.  We made the right call, but “right” could have easily been very, very wrong.

Next stop, Ashland Oregon for the Rat Race.  Stay tuned.

 

 

Pretty nice ride

Pretty nice ride

 

 

Niviuk Peak 3 Review

Getting the bad boy out for the first time in Scuol

Getting the bad boy out for the first time in Scuol

 

We had two super windy days after the Riederalp/Interlaken flight so I trained down to Verbier to pick up my bags, spent a night with Mike and Stu and celebrated with their graduating group of new pilots, who were all pretty thrilled with their new-found sky skills.  Then the next day I carried on to Geneva to meet with Patrick Roser, the Swiss Niviuk dealer who had a couple very special presents for me- the new F-Gravity 2 acro wing, and the Peak 3 X-Alps (ie light weight version).  I tried to control myself from just ripping open the bags right at the train station.  I think Patrick could hear my heart beat for the next hour as we caught up on all things Niviuk and paragliding at a nearby cafe.

 

Throwing her around a bit

Throwing her around a bit

 

Back up to Visp and Bruce had a plan- Scuol was looking on the windy side, but doable on Sunday.  Seemed like a perfect opportunity to give the new baby a spin.

The trip across Switzerland was unfortunately more eventful than it should have been.  Instead of driving over the Fluela pass from Klosters we thought we’d save a lot of time and put the Niviuk mobile on the train.  Easy, and as our clutch was about to give up the ghost, a safer option.  A few minutes into the trip and suddenly there’s a big BANG!  I look over at Bruce and he looks at me and I go “what the hell was that?”  Then I look forward and notice there’s easily 30 extra feet in front of us that wasn’t there before.  I’d put the hand brake on, but not enough and we’d rolled back and slammed into the carriage, which destroyed our awning.  A few minutes later I grabbed a Red Bull out of my harness, which we store in the bathroom and then put my harness back down on the flushing mechanism of the toilet, which poured an entirely full tank of water on Bruce’s harness and wing.  He’d have to fly with a wet reserve tomorrow as we didn’t have enough time to dry it out…Sorry dude!

 

Really cool route towards Interlaken

Really cool route towards Interlaken

 

We got to launch early the next day, a gorgeous grass covered wild-flower extravaganza hill above town.  With SW winds forecasted at 20 kilometers a triangle wasn’t going to be an option, so we planned to head towards Innsbruck, about 120 kilometers down the range and see if anything else presented.  Maybe we could get out on the Bavarian flats away from the wind?

The sky didn’t look very encouraging.  Plenty of nice popping cumulus clouds, but they were all wind blown.  Wind isn’t much fun in the big mountains.  The launch was totally cross, but cycles coming up the hill provided the gap needed to get off.  I launched my crispy new wing, took one turn and my mind was made up.  INSANE wing.  Pure and simple.  Super easy to handle, responsive, provides incredible feedback and just looking at it makes your heart sing.  Niviuk has nailed it with this one.  I’m no designer, but looking at it and how they have changed huge things like the location of the air intakes (back a LONG ways), and the line attachments, and the genius of the two-liner with an additional cascade with 4 attachment points.  All of it just works, and given the ratty air and difficult flying, I was very very happy to be on the Peak 3 today instead of my Icepeak.

 

Oh if I could have had this move over again...

Oh if I could have had this move over again…

 

We spent nearly an hour trying to get away from launch, but the thermals were a mess and more than once I thought…I don’t like this.  But the wing seemed much happier than I was and I was keen to fly this new site so I gave up on getting high and headed downwind, hoping for some improvement.  Bruce had tried to push into wind so was a few kilometers behind me and I had a local pilot, a friend of ours named Thomas out in front to hopefully give me some ideas.

The rattyness and wind continued but the climbs started to gel and a few ridges down the valley I found myself at cloudbase, just above 3,000 meters marveling at this piece of incredible engineering over my head.  Clearly this is a remarkable XC machine that I will be having a ton of fun with in the coming months.  Superb climber, crazy fun to fly.

 

Crossing the 100KM mark- what a mark!

Crossing the 100KM mark- what a mark!

 

The kilometers started to click away.  What had seemed like a maybe 10km day was now looking like a possible chocolate (100km), and if we could get into the flats, maybe a huge day.  Up high the winds were indeed strong, well over 20km so the going was fast but safe as long as you could stay away from the terrain.  But as soon as you would drop below 2000 after a long glide there seemed to be reasonably strong valley winds from the East (coming from Innsbruck).  Not having any local knowledge in the Alps is a huge impediment.  You can be having an awesome flight, but then make one wrong route decision and you’re on the dirt.  It’s one of the reasons Chrigel is so unstoppable in the X-Alps.  He knows every single valley and ridge, and he can call local pilots from one side the alps to the other while in the air and get a spot update on the weather.

When I got to the town of Landeck we had the option of carrying on towards Telms and staying in the main valley, or skipping over a range and heading towards Germany.  I figured our only option of going big would be to push out onto the flats, still a long ways away, but the wind was making things pretty dicey in the mountains, so I pointed NE.

Bruce caught me up about 30 km’s short of Innsbruck after I got stuck on a windy west facing flank and we ridge soared out and popped over the back towards the German/Austrian border.  Then the flying got really, really fun.  We pinged down through this high valley that looked to have an awfully long retrieve if we didn’t get through, but the going was easy- nice climbs on all the west facing slopes and a few hikers below waving at the nutters cranking by over their heads.  Of interest was on one glide when I was right next to Bruce.  It’s always hard to gauge speed in dissimilar air, but it seemed like I was going considerably faster.  I asked him where he was on bar- he said 2/3rds.  I was 1/3rd on bar.  His UP Trango XC is a great XC wing and very very fast for a ENC, but the Peak was blowing it away.

 

Things looking very good, Bavaria is just to the left, no idea what country we're in here!

Things looking very good, Bavaria is just to the left, no idea what country we’re in here!

 

We got a nice climb, stuck our heads into the clouds a bit and went on glide to what looked like monumentally good flying.  It was barely past 3 pm, we’d been in the air just over 5 hours and easily had 4 hours of good flying left.  We’d pocketed the chocolate and 200 or more seemed well within reach.

5 minutes later we were both on the ground.  We should have turned around.  Had we done so, our hopes of a 200 might have gone down, but that local knowledge thing killed us.  As soon as we made the glide we ran into a wall of wind coming off the flats and from Innsbruck and we got flushed hard.  We landed a few km’s from one another and when I landed Bruce says on the radio “I don’t even know what country we’re in!”.  I couldn’t help- I had no idea (turns out we were in Austria).

We’d managed to turn a pretty average day into a phenomenal day of flying, I got to see a whole new part of the Alps, and I got to know the Peak 3 pretty well so it was indeed a great day.   The wing is flat-out phenomenal.  For anyone interested in a truly high-performance, bad ass, kick ass XC machine, get your hands on a Peak 3 and let me know if you have any questions, I’d be happy to throw some adjectives your way.

 

Sweet ride

Sweet ride

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Globetrotting

I’m going to hell for my carbon footprint, of that I am sure. After our two days in Bassano and more rain in the forecast Bruce and I broke 8 straight nights of culinary extraordinaire at the Abbazia and headed for the Dolomites. Figured we might as well take some walks if we couldn’t fly.

 

Hello Dolomites!!!

Hello Dolomites!!!

But then after a night in the hard rain and a few belts of scotch and an excellent Italian meal ala chef Bruce I got an email from our roomate back in Sun Valley, Gerry Moffatt that he had a Middle Fork River permit, launching on Friday. Back in my river days, which ended abruptly after a long string of first descents and too much class VI (ie “unrunable”) rivers in Central America back in 1998 had me talking a little too directly with the guy upstairs (and we don’t talk often) I pretty much spent most waking hours running whitewater. I hadn’t been in a kayak for 14 years, but the Middle Fork of the Salmon has always been high on the list. It was Wednesday early evening. I jumped in the driver’s seat and Bruce fired up Google to figure out logistics and we drove to Bolzano. If I caught the last train I’d have 6 hours of trains to Milan, an overnight at the airport, then a string of flights back to Boise to arrive with 4 hours to pack for the river. I figured if I made the train it would be a sign that I should go. I made it literally as it was pulling out of the station, one second later and I wouldn’t have gone.

Bruce preps for launch in Riederalp, Switzerland

Bruce preps for launch in Riederalp, Switzerland

 

After 6 days on the river, which was more glorious than I could have imagined I opened up the dweeb machine, a device that had been thankfully missing from my life for a week and immediately saw an email from Bruce.  The subject line said “Hammertag”.

Which can be translated as:  GET BACK TO EUROPE.  While I’d been on the river Bruce had seen a huge change in the Euro weather, which had been dismal all spring, and he’d already put up the biggest flight of his life, the much revered 200FAI triangle (his was actually 209).  Hammertag literally means “Hammer Day”, which is very special for pilots.  Means you can put down the Hammer and fly fast and far.  I have a pretty cruisy deal with United, so I hastily packed my flying gear again and headed for Boise, and another long string of flights.

24 hours later I stumbled off the plane in Geneva, limped onto the train to Verbier, waggered off the train two hours later and met Bruce near the station.  I threw my gear into our friends Mike and Stu’s Verbier Summits school van and headed to launch with their group of students, who were near the end of a two-week paragliding course.  On the way up, one of the students asked “so how long can you guys stay up there for…like an hour or something?”  Well…not exactly.  This would be the warm-up day for what was now no longer Hammertag in Switzerland, but still a very good day tomorrow.  The winds were relatively strong from the SW, especially high and we needed to be positioned near Fiesch tomorrow, so our plan was to do a little distance in the Verbier valley, then keep our heads low and lob off the back into the Rhone and cruise down the Rhone as far as we could go, staying away from the big mountains.

Spectacular

Spectacular- looking down the Rhone the next day

 

About 5 and half hours after launch we were screaming downwind at nearly 70 kilometers an hour over the town of Brig, just a few clicks short of Fiesh, which would be a chocolate score of 100km’s- not bad for a late launch and my blendered brain that had no idea what time zone it was inhabiting.  The valley narrows up here and I paused for a bit thinking the wind might be a bit scary but then pushed on.  Bruce was somewhere just behind me, and I hadn’t heard anything on the radio…

Then it got pretty wild.  I had no idea where the wind was coming from, but it was certainly unkind.  Thankfully the Icepeak prefers to stay inflated and we danced through relatively unscathed, but that tell-tale that I know I’m stressed, when I lean forward out of my harness and start shoving my shoulders between my risers to keep them from twisting was my sign that it was time to be on the ground.  But then as I headed to Fiesch the Grimsel wind hit me like a wall, that awful little snake that she is.  So I crabbed against it for awhile, got over Fiesch but tired of combat flying and ran off downwind to a big field near the train tracks with a lot less rotor and came in with no problems.  A short train ride and Bruce and I were back in Visp and together with the Niviuk mobile once again, plotting our big day tomorrow.  Well, he was plotting, I just passed out.

 

Getting up at Fiesch and getting underway

Getting up at Fiesch and getting underway

 

The next morning the sky looked promising but the forecast was calling for moderately strong SW winds.  To the east of us was most certainly Hammertag, but it was too late to make a move so we thought…let’s just fly there!  We sketched out a one-way route through the Furka pass all the way to Innsbruck, Austria.  If we got there it would be a stellar 265 kilometers.  On the tram that morning were three Red Bull X-alps pilots, including fellow American and first time X-Alper, Stephan Hasse.  They also planned to skip over the Furka so we’d have some fun company in the air.

After an hour and a half of pretty easy flying I was at the doorway to the Furka looking at a lot of snow, wondering how in the world we’d get over as base was not high.  I made two solo attempts as I’d gotten a lucky early climb and was out in front of the others but didn’t get close and had to turn back to find lift.  Then I tried it twice with a couple of the X-Alps dudes, but with the same result.  When Bruce showed up we shouted at each other as he’d mistakenly turned the volume off on his radio and couldn’t receive me and decided we’d give up on the Furka and maybe get lucky and do a triangle in the Wallis (ie stay in Switzerland and along the Rhone).  Thus far the SW winds hadn’t shown up…maybe the forecast was wrong.

 

Yikes- pretty yes, but yikes!

Yikes- pretty yes, but yikes!

 

So we headed back down the Rhone towards Martigny.  The X-Alps guys stayed there and kept trying but we later found out they went nowhere.  The base stayed annoyingly low but the climbs got better and we made good progress all the way to Leukerbad but then the wind hit, and it hit hard.  What to do?  I’d seen an awesome track log by Chrigel this spring that crossed over to Interlaken…maybe we could go downwind and lob over?  Bruce and I were still having to shout to one another to communicate so we got in a thermal together and played “can you hear me????” for a few turns.  “WHAT….DO….YOU……WANT…..TO……DO?”

“YOU HAVE TO GO POO?”

“NO…..WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?”

“LET’S GO TO INTERLAKEN!!!!”  I said.

I could hear him on the radio (he couldn’t hear me), and he replies “well that’s an interesting thought.”

So we turned and went deep into the Leukerbad valley looking for a climb out of the back.  The photo above is the wall we were looking at.  We needed 3200 meters to get across, and we had absolutely no idea what was on the other side.  We only knew that the standard route across from the Rhone was not from Leukerbad, but from one valley to our East.  But that option wasn’t on the table.  Bruce found the lift first, I followed well later as I’d been searching around the corner, playing the windward / leeward game, yet another Nick Greece trick I’d picked up this year.

 

Pretty wild terrain, photo Bruce Marks

Pretty wild terrain, photo Bruce Marks

 

Eventually I caught up but couldn’t find the needed 200 meters to get to the top.  I couldn’t see around the corner…Should I just go?  Bruce was well over the top of the peak and radios that he’s going.  “Skipper, I can see you.  DO NOT GO from where you are, I repeat, DO NOT GO, it’s very flat terrain in front of you, you need the climb.”

So I went.  Fuck it, I was tired of trying and I was high enough.  I hoped.

 

Over the pass, Heading towards Interlaken

Over the pass, Heading towards Interlaken

 

Turns out I had plenty to work with and the wind at my back helped my glide.  I could just make out the Interlaken valley about 40 kilmeters away.  We still had plenty of daylight, plenty of time.  Bruce was way up high over the terrain, I was down in the bouncy stuff, but soon enough we were back together just 10 kilometers from town, both lakes plainly in view.  Bruce took an obvious route to windward, but I started getting an idea that I could extend this flight easily enough and possibly even circumnavigate the Eiger if I could just get back up on top of the main ridge above Grindelwald.  As I couldn’t tell him my plan and he can’t see all that well:), pretty soon we were separated and he was telling me he was on the ground.  As I soared along the gorgeous Interlaken lakes, I place I’d flown only a couple times back when I was a spring chicken pilot in the dying hours of the day in that magical mountain light I thought more than one time…this is the greatest thing we humans can do.  FLY.  I looked up at that marvelous wing above my head and said loudly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”  She’d carried me across some seriously wild terrain this year in Mexico, Colombia, and all over the Alps and yeah, we had plenty of work still to do, but she has my absolute respect and undying love.

Unfortunately I couldn’t gain the needed ridge to complete the circumnavigation, but the wind carried me easily along the north face of the valley ridge 30 kilometers towards Meiringen.  Wildflowers, waterfalls, cliff faces, huge trees, green valleys, long lakes and some of the largest mountains in the world raced by in a way that not many people get to see and I found myself just fully absorbed and enjoying the ride.

 

On the home stretch. Insane final glide.

On the home stretch. Insane final glide.

 

I landed near the Meiringen train station, 168 kilometers from where we’d started.  A few hours later I was enjoying a steak and a very large beer back in Visp and thinking…I might indeed be going to hell, but I’m sure having fun getting there.

 

Just about around the big boys

Just about around the big boys

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chasing Chocolates Part II

Looking back at the new Peak 3- looking sweet!

Looking back at the new Peak 3- looking sweet!

When Bruce and I got to launch on Monday at Bassano we were encouraged to have Nicole Fedele and Damiano Zanocco on launch. A good sign that we were in the right place on this most difficult of springs in Europe for finding decent weather. A lot more cloud was showing early, but things looked like they would work.

We made a short run to the east but heavy cloud made the going a little dicey and I was happy when Damiano turned around. Dig this guys style. Just punches it, often low into areas with few landing options and then bang, he’s out and carries on. Once we made the glide across Bassano to the west towards Calvene things got pretty interesting. Super low base kept us clinging to the tops of the trees. No way on Earth I would have gone in their without Nicole and Damiano out front doing the work. Most of the area was totally unlandable. Thick trees, steep gullies- awfully pretty but a serious nail biter. But the thermals were pinging and as long as you could stay on them the going was fine.

 

Bruce on Glide

Bruce on Glide

 

I started feeling guilty about drafting off the guys who knew where they were and how to get there and made the critical mistake of wandering out on my own to hopefully “show the way” and do some work.  Dumbass.  Should have left it to the Italians in their backyard.  Pretty soon I was scratching desperately low and thought my day was over, but I mindfully kept my eyes up instead of down and eventually, with a big sigh of relief got out and eventually caught back up to the gaggle, now on their way across Calvene to Santorso.  There still wasn’t much evidence of anything working on the flats so I was a little confused when Nicole and Damiano headed out SSW towards Valdagno.  We’d seen that line on XContest so Bruce and I headed out after them hoping they knew something we didn’t.

Soon enough they were headed back towards us and Bruce and I made the critical mistake of carrying on looking for a climb.  By the time we gave up we barely had enough height to make it back to the ridge, which was now in shade but still thankfully working.  All we had to do now was doggedly pursue these guys and stop thinking for ourselves and a chocolate was ours.

 

Nicole Fedele...above of course

Nicole Fedele…above of course

 

Our glide back to Calvene started easy, looked like a cinch.  But we both found horrendous sink on the far side where I spotted several of the gaggle on the ground.  No sign of Nicole and Damiano.  Had the day shut down?  Bruce made a bold move deep into the trees and I thought I could get something off the town.  But with the wind and my lack of height I just couldn’t link anything and after many desperate attempts I was on the ground in a wheat field, sneezing uncontrollably in the hot sun, simultaneously cursing and cheering Bruce on to get out, which he eventually did.

A long walk, a lovely hitchhike with an adorable Italian, a long bus ride, and then a short taxi and I was back at camp back near launch.  Bruce had made it and then some, but he fell just short of the chocolate making a move out onto the flats too early.  The hills were in full cloud and shade, but Damiano somehow pulled it into a 147 km flight sticking to them, which was in retrospect of course the move to make.  Really dig his style and hope to find myself in the air with him again.  One of those days that reminds me firmly of how much there still is to learn.  Score:  0 chocolates.  Europe you’re killing us this season.  But these last two days they were there for the taking.

 

Russ Ogden Talks, We Should Listen

Last year at the Sun Valley PWC and then afterwards at the Open Distance Nationals some bad ass pilots took the floor on the non-flyable days and shared their knowledge. Veteran comp pilot, Ozone test pilot and all around good dude Russell Ogden spoke about safety, going far, and how to handle new comp wings. We turned on the camera and let it roll, not sure I’ve ever been so thankful to press record. This talk went viral when we first put it up, but if you haven’t yet seen it, sit down with a cuppa as they say in Britain and enjoy, this is worth every second.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YVbdaLc1jk[/youtube]

Chasing Chocolates Part I

The day getting off to a great start

The day gets off to a great start

Yesterday we finally got a chance. Bruce and I are about as hungry as you can get. And not for food, the Abazzia restaurant continues to blow our minds. Hungry for distance. It didn’t look like it would be a great day. Too much wind, too early over-development and rain. All of which were true, but maybe, just maybe we could squeak a chocolate (100 km flight).

Still looking good...

Still looking good…

 

So we pinged off early and headed downwind east to just extend the distance a bit.  As usual Bruce and I were the first off, but things were working well and progress was quick.  Then the clouds stopped at the edge of the airspace so time to turn around and get some distance bucking the wind west.  Coming back to wind was pretty ugly.  Broken climbs, lee side whippers, a lot of talking to oneself trying to keep your shit together.  But eventually we were high back over launch and while the going was hard, we were going.

 

On the way back...

Bit of wind here…

 

As usual Nick Greece’s words were in my head when I’m flying.  “Fly the day, not your desires.”  Notice the wind in these clouds, looking back towards the Dolomites.  One of those days where the correct call would be to just call it, save it for another day.  And we were gaming for Monday (tomorrow) anyway, which looked better for weather post frontal.  But I got high and tried one more glide further west.  By the time I got there I was low and the wind was way too strong.  My options were to dive back to the valley and look for a landing, or try to soar out and grab another ratty climb and just head back to camp.  I chose the second option, taking a bit of a smacking around for a half hour or so before finally getting enough height to glide back.  When I arrived a fellow Icepeak met me at the ridge, turns out it was this year’s Superfinal women’s winner, Nicole Fedele.   An ace Italian pilot, it was good to know some other hot pilots (in this case “hot” both in ability and otherwise!) were in the neighborhood as the weather dance this last month has been a bitch.

 

Weather Ahead

Weather Ahead

 

Weather behind...

Weather behind…

 

So I decide to call it.  Save it for another day.  But as I soar out over the flats I notice some nice little cu’s starting to ping off the flats.  At the same time Bruce, who has just landed says- “hey skipper, you should try the flats!”.  I’m just a couple hundred meters off the deck but I’ve got time, why not?  There’s a zero, ok now I’m in a .5 up…and I’m outa here!  In no time I was up over 1100 meters (900 over ground) and the sky ahead looked brilliant.  With Venice in the distance, and Bruce offering to chase me- well maybe I could get my chocolate after all!  All I had to do was outrun the nasty shit that was building behind me- motivation!  The OD was starting to happen, but it was tracking down the mountains and the flats looked safe.  Very quickly I was finding strong climbs with lots of little starlings and gliding downwind at 60 km’s an hour.  I knew I had to get about 70km to get the chocolate, with the 30 km+- out and back already covered.

 

Weather 10 minutes after landing

Weather 10 minutes after landing

 

Suddenly just to my right a cumulus goes ballistic.  It must have grown 2000 meters vertically in 90 seconds.  Time to get on the ground.  And then I hit a wall- seabreeze directly from the south at about 30 km.  I still had a ton of height, but spiraling down would mean a huge drift directly towards the rain and I was near a road and huge easy fields that I wanted to keep below me.  So I just pointed into the wind and stomped on the speed bar and lamented that I’d only gone 60 km’s over the flats (total flight distance ended up being 96.5 km’s- 3 1/2 km’s short!).  Unless I winged it downwind into the coming storm my day was done.  But what started as a very average day turned into brilliant flying.  As good days have been pretty non existent this spring in Europe I was on the ground with a huge smile on my face.  I don’t believe many flights have been done over the flats, adding to the pleasure.  Maybe a chocolate tomorrow…

 

Way out over the flats

Way out over the flats

Rain, Wind, Pizza and Dicey Landings

Looking ok?

Looking ok?

After one short flight in Fiesch and a continued blurry forecast we hit the road in the Niviuk mobile for the only place in Europe that held any promise- Bassano, Italy.  Many people are saying this is the wettest (ie worst) spring in history.  Whatever the case may be, it has been dismal.  But the flying forecast was for two good, maybe even great cross country days.  Bassano lies just to the south of the crazy beautiful Dolomites, which I’ve never seen but have been high on my list.  With a cranking north Foehn the Dolomites were a zero chance, but maybe if this weather gets any better…

It is my opinion that if Switzerland didn’t have such amazing mountains, and Ok- pretty awesome transportation very few people would visit.  Yeah yeah, it’s clean and tidy and all that, but criminy the food sucks and the prices are absurd.  But it does have those beautiful mountains, so I am rather excited to return.  But it was quite refreshing to cross the border into the relative chaos of Italy, drive for a few hours, park the mobile in a campground next to a famous restaurant called L’Antica Abbazia (the Abby) in the little town of Semonzo (about 60 kilometers north of Venice) and wander into a gastric Italian wonderhouse.  Pizza- totally insane, easily the best I’ve ever eaten.  Pasta- mouthwatering (try the homemade ravioli with spinach and ricotta and you’ll never be the same).  Espresso at the end of the night- OH MY GOD!  We’ve now eaten there three nights in a row and have no desire to change plans in the immediate future.  With the rain thumping down and no where to go, the Abby is the only thing keeping us sane.

Wednesday was supposed to deliver, so Bruce and I prepped the night before (charged instruments, packed and repacked all the gear, double checking everything was ready) and started early.  Shuttle runs on the hour from the flight park, we grabbed the 0900 and were ready to go in short order.  The day looked far from promising.  It had rained all night, and if the sun did come out we thought it would OD and rain again.  To help us slow down (patience is not our forte) we bought Bruce some new Niviuk brake toggles and acro handles, a trick I’d learned from Nate Scales and had already installed on my Icepeak.  One of the things that always concerns me about spring (ie cold) flying is using big gloves.  If you end up in an unrecoverable situation and have to throw your reserve and you’re let’s say, all wrapped up in a major riser twist- it can be nearly impossible to get your hands clear.  Install acro toggles and suddenly things get a LOT easier- and thus a lot safer.

We're going to replace these...

We’re going to replace these…

With these bad boys!

With these bad boys!

 

Mark your spot, untie, retie- presto!

Mark your spot, untie, retie- presto!

 

Once we got all this done we saw some birds climbing and a few wind dummies staying up and wanted to get our chocolate (XContest.org runs a yearly contest for the most 100KM flights flown) so we pinged off.  Whoever wins gets a substantial amount of Swiss Chocolate, which is something I forgot to commend the Swiss on above- it is SUPERB!).  Bruce is currently in the number one spot in the chocolate bar right now with 16 (you can only get two from each launch, so he has traveled in his quest!).  But alas, and as usual lately- we were too early.  But the day never really happened.  I was on the ground after 10 km’s down the ridge.  Rather than relaunching I opted to get my 7 year old mac fixed after spilling some water on the keyboard.  Bruce went back up twice for two nice…but short flights.

Thursday was meant to be worse, but after a dry night things were looking better.  Thankfully the shuttle was late, which forced us to launch a little later.  Again there was a lot of cloud, but things were much better than the day before.  Strong but nice climbs of 3-4 meters per second right off launch and base at 1700 meant we could get somewhere.  It was totally clouded to the west so we ran down the ridge to the east, in the lee of the north foern but the air was very manageable.

Bassano standard route- not bad considering!

Bassano standard route- not bad considering!

 

Our first tricky bit was crossing the gorge and big river before Valdobbladene.  The local guru Andreas Breuer, who developed Bassano as a flying destination and runs the “Airpark Monte Grappa” had told us that we shouldn’t attempt this crossing with the day we had as we probably wouldn’t make it, but we didn’t really have any other options.  The flats weren’t working yet, and behind us was all dark.  We found a nice climb before the crossing and went on glide.  The town was in sun and thankfully the ridge was hoovering and in no time, barring Bruce’s impressive low save we were off again running north east.  I was starting to think we might get our chocolate after all!  Given the shocking weather we’ve had for the last few weeks, this would be quite an achievement.

 

Oopsy

Oopsy

 

 

 

 

Tools of the XC Trade

Tools of the XC Trade

Tools of the XC Trade

Stoked to be contributing to the recently launched website TheParaglider.com.  They have just posted a feature I wrote back in January for United States Hangliding and Paragliding magazine.  If you missed it, have a read.  This was an attempt to consolidate all the massive amount of info I heard and learned about during the PWC and Open Distance Nationals last August in Sun Valley.

I avoided paragliding consciously for over ten years. Many good friends were pilots, all of them continuously prodded me to make my first jump. It looked like a blast, something I’d probably take to; but I also kept hearing the old saying that “there are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots.” Accidents seemed frequent with rather…long term consequences. I’m a total adrenaline junky. I don’t have a very good “stop” button. If a conservative, methodical approach was required to be safe then paragliding was not the sport for me. I dreamed of flying, but kept my feet on the ground.

To read the rest of the article and learn from such radical pilots as Russel Ogden, Matt Beechinor, Nate Scales, Bill Belcourt and Nick Greece, go here.  The article covers equipment, attitude, training, supplies, and essentials that belong in your kit.

What to Do, What to Do?

Fiesch, looking pretty desperate

Fiesch, looking pretty desperate

 

Arrived Paris two weeks ago with Nate Scales, my Sun Valley flying buddy with huge plans of massive triangles in the Alps.  Spring flying in Europe is spicy, strong and when you get the days completely RAD, but the days don’t come often.  Patience is the key.  My flying partner Bruce Marks arrived in the middle of April, got three back to back days of 8 hours+ in the air in the Wallis area (Fiesch, Riederalp, Zermatt, etc.) but since then it’s been…challenging.

We began with a train ride to Montpellier, in the south of France to meet up with Antoine Laurens, who had kindly been keeping the Niviuk mobile under roof at his parents house in Rodez, a gorgeous countryside eden replete with goats and green as far as they eye can see.  Nate and I had a super fun flight in Millau, the local tandem-heavy site near the coast, got the mobile all fixed up for travel and headed north to Annecy, where it looked like we had a couple decent days to try to attempt something.

 

On Glide to Annecy

Nate On Glide to Annecy

 

Our second flight in Europe was pretty special.  Nate hadn’t had a chance to fly the famous Annecy back in 2007 when he competed in the Red Bull X-Alps, arguable the world’s most physical race.  This year was a legend season for snow in the Alps and I’d never seen the mountains near the lake so white in May.  Europe’s tallest mountain, Mt Blanc was calling us, but heavy cirrus kept us working south towards Grenoble then back north again to the lake to bag the triangle.  It wasn’t a huge flight at 103 km as we battled a lot of head wind, but god it was awesome.  No complaints.

 

Nate Scales ground Handling in Annecy

Nate Scales ground Handling in Annecy

Nate and I paid a visit to our good friend Gavin and Victoria, who have a “chalet” on the lake to wait out some bad weather and managed to get in a couple short flights off Col de Forclaz, the main launch in Annecy between bouts of rain.  After hiking up for flight number two, there were some nutters setting up for a couple tandem wingsuit drops, so I grabbed the Niviuk Zion and hucked off with one of them to try to grab some shots.  Didn’t get great shots, but pretty fun to watch him rocket by.

Yeeehawwww!

Yeeehawwww!

 

Figuring out weather is not my forte in the Alps, and as the weather pattern looked pretty complicated it was time for a call to Bruce Marks, who was UN-patiently waiting in Fiesch and Fanas and knows and follows the flying weather as well as anyone.  And he’s fu%$#%#@ hungry!  This dude wants big flights and works harder than anyone I know at getting them.  Where to go?  All of Europe looked pretty grim, but it seemed Annecy was probably the best.  So I hopped in Gav’s Ferrari, dropped Nate off for an afternoon soaring session and ripped down to Geneva to pick Bruce up.  Life can be very trying.

What's a couple of guys going to do?

What’s a couple of guys going to do?

 

The next day we took off from Marlens, a morning site to the south of Lake Annecy facing SE for a hopeful run to St Hilaire and beyond.  Heavy cirrus was again our curse and getting out proved super hard.  Bruce got flushed and very uncharacteristically had to land and eventually Nate and I got out via the south end of the Aravis chain and started bucking a headwind wind south.  By the time we got in the vicinity of Chambery the glide to the St Hilaire ridge was impossible against the wind, so we backtracked looking for a climb and ran into Bruce again, who had relaunched and flown fast to catch us up.  Where to go?  South was impossible, but maybe we could glide the valley to the south of Albertville and run south on the west facing ridge?

We all made the glide, got the best climb of the day in unseasonably stable conditions but couldn’t make anything of it.  Soon we were all on the ground, looking up at a promising sky.  Too early?

Bruce and Nate prep for launch in Annecy

Bruce and Nate prep for launch in Annecy

 

Yes, too early.  Caught a rad series of hitches to St Hilaire where we all astonishingly met up just in time for a couple bottles of wine and a glorious french meal and a sound sleep, hoping for a big day.  But again our mistake was too early.  I am the first to admit to punching off too quickly- nearly all the time.  I want long days and big miles.  GO!  But XCSkies showed zero XC potential and stable air.  Better to wait, let the air cook a bit.  But this was May!  No way could it be stable in May!  Alas getting out was a complete shit fight.  So I punched off.  There’s no where more beautiful to fly so again no complaints, but after two hours of trying and still being at the same altitude surfing the walls of St Hilaire dangerously close, I was getting quite bored, risking too for too little.  What the hell?

Finally I hooked a decent thermal into catcher’s mit terrain that I’d tried unsuccessfully for two hours and got up high, but only to find horrible lee side dirty air that I had no idea what to do with except run.  So I ran.  Eventually I was with Bruce and Nate again in better air on the lower cliffs, at exactly the altitude of launch.  Bitchin’.  Where to go?  Again we made the call to cross the valley and try the western facing slopes and bigger mountains.  But again- too early.  On the deck in the heat, pissed off, looking at a promising sky.  But no one went anywhere that day, so maybe we did ok?

 

The Niviuk Mobile in Fiesch

The Niviuk Mobile in Fiesch

 

The next week’s forecast was pretty miserable.  Rain and more rain.  Nate only had a few days left, so we opped for a run to mighty Chamonix to at least get in a hike and take in the sights.  Dropped Nate off in Martigny where he could get a train back to Geneva to grab his flight and Bruce and I carried on to Fiesch, where the forecast was for continued yuck.  I quickly got the mobile stuck in the mud at the campground, which is hosted by the most awfullest swiss beast of nastiness you’ve ever met.  I can’t understand anything she says, so I wasn’t too offended, but as awful as Swiss German is, I could tell she wasn’t impressed.

We sat in the rain for the last three days, Bruce and I.  Drinking way too much scotch, playing too much chess, cursing the weather, and cursing the abysmal swiss food.  What is it with them?  Fonfuckingdue!  On a good day in Fiesch there will be 150 pilots on launch.  Bruce has flown a lot here, I’ve flown enough to know that when you are the only ones on launch, it’s a good sign that you shouldn’t be.  Well today we were.  On arrival it was snowing.  Not super hard, but SNOWING.  The wind was cross and from the wrong direction.  The clouds were all wrong.  WARNING!  Not a single place open, no place to kill the time and have a coffee.  But we waited, hoping for a change.  Eventually it came, a smidgeon of sun which immediately fired a sequence of thermals and the snow stopped falling.  An hour later we were on the deck 30 km up the valley towards the Furka after a rather fun ride downwind but nowhere to go.  As I was packing up my wing near a train station a guy stopped who was clearly a pilot and asked where I’d come from.  “Riederalp” I said.

“Riederalp!  In this wind?  It is dangerous!  Where are you from?  This is your first time flying here?”

“No, I’ve flown here quite a bit before.  I’m from Idaho.”

“But you are the only one, no one is flying here and that is bad!”

“Actually there is one more, he’s up the valley.  His name is Bruce.”

 

Nate Scales banks his Niviuk Icepeak with Mont Blanc in the distance

Nate Scales banks his Niviuk Icepeak with Mont Blanc in the distance