hung out for a while, then chatted with a local wildlife/ forest service guy (with the shotgun) and his son, plus a couple other guys who came by. It was a busy social time at the launch area, as we were almost always the only ones there. They wanted to see us launch, but we had waited a too long and the wind was too strong for Brad to safely control the glider.We tried three times, and on two of those we ended up getting dragged a little bit. Our layers of warm clothes provided padding, so we didn't get injured, but it doesn't take long to get out of breath at 13,000 feet. After our first two unsuccessful tries the forest guy and friends got tired of waiting and headed off. We made one more attempt, then waited for a while to see if the winds might ease up. They didn't. so we started walking down.
It was an interesting walk. Quite a few people bring their goats up the mountain to graze during warmer (a relative term) weather. This happened to be the day that people were bringing the goats back down. There's only one road, and we all shared it. Actually, they got to the road just before we did, but they were moving faster than we were, so it worked out well.
Then some kids started following us, and unlike the kids in Booni, these kids seemed to be laughing at us. Most were young, but one was older, and he had a shotgun. We didn't feel threatened, but it was starting to annoy me. Maybe that was because I was getting tired - tired of walking and just tired. It had been a long and frustrating day. So how does a person deal with a situation like that? Take a picture.We ended up walking down about 2 hours to Athol, the nearest village, getting there a little before dark. We had to wait a while to find a jeep to take us to Booni, and some kids gathered around then, including one showing off his English school book.
We could have had a flight. We wanted to. But it didn't happen. Instead we had this fascinating experience with the goats and the kids, plus a jeep (actually a pick-up) that bounced us around much more violently than our aborted launches did. It also let the driver make some money and take some friends of his for a ride. This is all so much fun! No joke.
That was Monday. On Tuesday Brad and Freddy flew, and Freddy had the accident. Wednesday he came home from the hospital. No flying for him for a while, but he was comfortable and was able to take care of himself, so Brad and I went up Thursday, the 11th.
Thursday 10/11 A legitimate "high flight:
The wind was strong, but would be ok if we could catch the calm part of the cycle. We followed the same pattern as on Monday, but this time we were a little better at it. We laid out the wing, and only Brad hooked into the harness. Unlike our first flight, when the wind was calm and we did a forward launch, the windy conditions meant we would do a "high wind" launch. It's also called a "reverse" launch because the pilot begins by facing the wing (so his back to to the direction of launch).
During the strong part of the cycle I held one side of the wing down. When Brad felt the wind start to ease he said "OK" , and I quickly moved to him and tried to get hooked in. It wasn't easy. Brad was working to control the wing, and we were getting buffeted by the wind, and my gloved hands struggled with the carabiner. Twice I didn't get hooked in before the stronger wind cycle came, so I needed to go back to hold the wing down. We didn't get dragged, so that was good, but I was getting winded. And the memories of our recent failed launches nagged at me. Brad's calm manner was reassuring, and it helped me focus on my part.
On the third try I barely got hooked in before the wind picked up. Brad worked hard to control the wing, and I worked hard just to stay on my feet as we got pulled around. It seemed like 30 seconds; it was probably closer to 5. But I avoided falling, and got my feet under me just as Brad got the wing overhead and in control. When he said "Walk," it was the first time I was capable of doing it. We moved forward together about one step and were pulled straight up. Instantly we were 10 feet above the hillside, then 30, then 50, and we were flying - again. It was a far different launch than our first flight. And, even counting my 25-30 solo flights, it would be my best flight ever - by far - so far.
We sat back in our harnesses, then turned left along the hill. We went to the ridge, found the house thermal, and immediately got some lift. We (ok, Brad was actually flying, but I was thinking good thoughts and was weight-shifting as directed) worked the thermal to about 400 to 500 feet above launch, then went on glide to the west. There are other ridges there that Brad has used before. We found some lift, then flew over the Attak water project we recently visited. We were always on the lookout for good lift, constantly scanning the ground features, clouds, and any birds we could see. Brad's overall experience and his knowledge of the area allowed us to find thermals, but their strength was inconsistent.
For a while we were limited by an inversion that kept us stuck in a routine for 15-20 minutes. We’d gain to a certain height, then our lift would fade and we’d lose altitude. That happened several times, then as Brad says, we “punched through” the inversion. It helps to think of the thermal as stream of bubbles coming up, but they’re different sizes and speeds. Catch a big fast one and up you go.... Of course you can’t see them, and they may drift off one way or another, so it's kind of like feeling your way in the dark - except it's not dark. The air patterns just aren't visible. I still don't understand exactly how a thermal can occasionally penetrate an inversion layer. But it can, and we finally found one that did.
Once we got through the inversion layer we got some great lift, at one time climbing at 8 or 9 meters/sec (1700 ft/min). At times it felt like being in an elevator when it starts up, only it's a faster elevator than you've ever been on. It pushed me down hard into my harness and I could feel the g-forces pulling on my face. Because we were constantly circling to stay in the thermal, we also felt the centrifugal force, and that added to the sensation. For a while we had the awesome experience of soaring with a
hawk. Gently circling left, with the hawk just off our right wingtip, then sometimes above and in front of us. On this day the hawk didn't want to go as high as we did, and after a few minutes it headed off somewhere. We stayed in the thermal, wanting to get as much altitude as we could.As as we got higher we could see further - for miles and miles. Several mountain ranges run through this area, so there were mountains all around. We could even see mountains in Afghanistan.
And we could see glaciers - lots of glaciers; above us, level with us, then below us. It was spectacular beyond description.Of course, higher is colder, and it got really cold. Despite wearing two pairs of gloves and socks, and flexing my hands and feet, my fingers got numb and my toes started to. Maybe my brain did as well. Brad's GPS recorded our flight. At one point we reached an altitude of 5,400 meters (17, 700 feet). We weren't that high for long, only a few minutes, though we were 15 or 16 thousand feet for a while. My memory is of the cold, not the thinness of the air, though it must have been.
At some point Brad decided it was time to head back toward Booni, and for a while he let me
fly. It had been over a year since I'd flown myself, and that was a solo glider. The tandem is bigger, slower and less responsive than a solo, kind of like driving a bus. We were both comfortable with me flying, however, because unlike driving a bus, the nearest thing we could hit was more than half a mile away, and that was straight down.We came south across the river valley several thousand feet above the plateau we landed on in our first flight. We spent some time above Booni and adjoining areas. It was great getting a bird's eye view of Booni,
seeing the houses, fields, water channels, and the river and the plateau beyond that. In the pix the market area is upper center, and polo field (w/ mosque at upper end) is to the right of that. But we were looking for lift, finding it and going up, losing lift and losing altitude, then looking for lift somewhere else. It was great fun. We had a lot of height over Booni when we decided to land, so Brad did some spirals, a maneuver that lets you lose altitude quickly. The g-forces in the spiral were came on quicker and were much stronger than those experienced in the thermal. They glued me to the back of my harness.We landed at the polo field. Setting up for launch we found that the air was still. With no headwind to slow our groundspeed, we came in fast. Despite preparing by running in air as we approached, I panicked just as we landed. My legs involuntarily braced for impact. They slid on the dirt field, and I fell back into Brad as we stopped. No harm. We were safely down, landing 2 1/2 hours after we took off. And in those 2 1/2 hours? Wow! What an experience! What a thrill! Wow!
It was great fun and a fabulous experience. It showed me what a good pilot Brad is, something that other pilots have told me, but it's not the same as experiencing it firsthand. Brad proved it in every aspect of the flight, much of which he narrated as a learning experience for me. It was great stuff, but it left me exhausted.
I can't understand how Brad's been able to have so many flights of over 4 hours, and one of over 6 1/2 hours. Once again, we were quickly surrounded by a bunch of students. Their excitement just added to my joy. And they
didn't mob us; when we asked them for room they backed off, but kept smiling. One kid even had on a Colorado Rockies shirt. Small world!Saturday Oct 13 Even higher.
The sky was clear, with just a couple of hints of cloud way off on the horizon. We had a smooth launch, and quickly punched through the inversion. We flew over Attak as before, but with greater altitude than before we continued west toward Tirich Mir, a 25,000 foot peak.
We saw the glaciers on the East and South sides of Tirich Mir. We were higher and closer than on our previous flight. Some clouds had formed since launch, and we were flying at cloud base near 18,000 feet. Brad let me fly, giving me a chance to try to find and hold a thermal. It was a great learning experience. I was learning about thermalling, and also about how quickly you can get cold and out of breath at altitude. Brad resumed flying.Ice particles at cloud base stung the small uncovered part of my face, but the views of the glaciers took my breath away. Well, something took my breath away. It might have been the views, but maybe it was trying to warm up by pounding my hands on my thighs and flexing my legs. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, something took my breath away - literally. It was my first experience with hypoxia (not enough oxygen) and its effects: fatigue, loss of coordination, nausea. I tried several times to get my water bottle. My hands could grip it, but not enough to pull it out of my pocket. And even though I thought that water might help, I felt very tired and just didn't care enough to keep trying.
Resting, breathing deeply, thinking calm and oxygen-infused thoughts didn’t help. After trying unsuccessfully to deal with it I told Brad. He understood, and we came down, although from that altitude it took a while. We had reached over 18,600 feet. By the time we were down to 12,000 feet all my symptoms were gone and I felt fine. By the time we landed I felt great, and loved the experience, but also felt some disappointment at having to cut our flight short – only 2 hours 20 minutes. Not bad. A different experience, but still great fun - mostly.
Monday Oct 15 Another good flight.
This one was 1½ hours and not particularly high, but high enough to soar with several birds, and to see more glaciers, and to look down on valleys and villages and rivers and roads. And high enough to appreciate seeing all those things from this unique perspective. From a plane you can look down on things as you're flying over. The paragliding experience is far different.
With a paraglider there's no engine noise, and, assuming conditions are favorable, it's a leisurely and peaceful flight. It gives you a chance to carefully examine something of interest, whether it's birds flying above or below, or the flow of the river, or people walking between villages or working in their fields. When we're close to the ground children often call to us and we answer. Language, distance and wind noise limit conversation, but the contact still feels meaningful. Being here, having this experience, sharing it with Brad. It convinces me I must have done something pretty darn special in a previous life. I don’t believe in that. It’s just fun to say. Doesn’t matter. This is beyond great.
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