Paragliding and cross-country flying: how to see thermals and achieve great distances

1. Launch at the wrong time The ‘sky gods’ dart up, up and disappear over the back of the mountain. They seem to sense when the time is right to pitch, but there’s nothing different you can see about that particular moment they think and the moment you choose that sends you sliding like a rock to the fields below. How can you cultivate this sense of time? Pretend you’re a Jedi Master and “feel the force” of the thermal rushing up the mountainside. It’s okay, nobody’s going to see you, because you’re faking it! When you feel the time is right to pitch, wait. When you feel like it’s the completely wrong time to shoot, then GO. You’re not getting up and going with release cycles. Which means you’ve probably been responding to the wrong signals, like when a nice strong wind comes in (the thermal is passing, it’s too late, you’ll just leave the thermal front).

2. Fact or fiction? Air currents are, most of the time, invisible. Any ability to predict where the lift (and turbulence) is is based on our ability to visualize air currents. Television does not develop this ability, since everything is presented on the screen. Instead, read a fantasy novel and your visualization powers will kick in. Sometimes the writer will stun you with his insight: “Fly away, fool,” he cried, and he was gone (Gandalf the Grey, The Lord of the Rings).

3. Blind as a bat, to the base of the clouds An excellent tool to expand your ability to detect air currents is a two-way radio. You need a friend to be at the launch site for a while. Then you fly, and in an area of ​​the sky with few people, you close your eyes. Let your friend guide you through the elevator and the bathroom. This will increase your sensitivity to the subtle movements of your wing and allow your imagination to work overtime since you can’t see where you are. It’s crazy, it’s a little scary, but it’s so much fun. You can even go cloud base. If you don’t, you can blame your ‘friend’. Now it’s your turn. Where was that thorny bush again?

4. Speed ​​to fly Advanced flight computers can provide important beeps and squawks to tell you how fast to fly to maximize your distance, and when integrated with a global positioning system (GPS) and wind speed meter, they can tell you what your drift is. above ground, and even the weather in Hong Kong. Do you need this for cross country flying? Did we do paragliding? Let’s be serious, we’re talking about a ship with a glide angle of 8:1 and an effective speed range of 20 km/h (‘slow’ is 30, ‘fast’ is 50 km/h). With all that extra equipment demanding your attention, it’s unlikely you’ll make it past the ‘turkey patch’. Relax, enjoy the flight and think about where the next ascent will be.

5. Raise the thermal of the trigger points Imagine for a moment that you have the power to influence the movement of the winds. Look around for where you would like the next thermal to take off from, and Will let it form He waves his hands, if he helps you, and mutters ‘Abracadabra’. It may be that we are all ignorant wizards, it may be that you tend to want thermals to pick up the most likely trigger points intuitively. Whatever the reason, ordering thermals to form and flying into your own creations often has the desired effect of a wonderful save and ascent to cloud base.

6. The Way of Two Strong Legs There are two paths in the sky: one that reflects the paths below and one that reflects the clouds above. Rarely do these two coincide. The road route usually stops shortly after launch, where some inconsiderate road planner strayed his pencil off the ridge to meet some distant village. The cloud route is fresh every day, requires you to stay in the air, and is generally longer and more satisfying. The landing site becomes the start of the Mystery Hike. May you be home in time for tea!

7. Goals for heroes Be frightened by your audacity. If your best flight is to the ‘turkey patch’ below the pitch, promise to try a 5km flight up the road. When you have achieved that, do it 50 km. The more ridiculous it sounds to you, the more you can laugh at the perspective, which is often the key to excelling in cross-country flying. Taking it too seriously, striving to constantly improve, can often drain the fun of a sport that, at its core, laughs at gravity.

8. Songs to fly By acting in control, you can often return to a position of control. When the sky falls on your head and your knuckles turn white with fear, sing! Reggae tunes, an old Beatles number or even The Ride of the Valkyries can help fill the void of fear that’s knotting your stomach. Just don’t sing anything from Dead Can Dance.

9. The BUT end of the flight Ahh yes, the word ‘target’ underperforming. As soon as it’s uttered, a perfectly good cross-country flight turns into a minor failure. “I could have flown 100 km, but the batteries in my vario died.” “I was going to go over the mountain, but then I remembered I had a dinner date.” Every time, you never get as far as you should/would/could have. Use the word backwards: “I was going to land at Joe’s Farm, but I hit a thermal and landed here!” In this way, you always surpass yourself and it soon becomes a habit. Better yet, don’t use the word at all and rejoice in every moment on the air.

I would have been flying cross-country today, but I had to write this article.