Take to the Sky

I sit here in the calm glow of the computer screen, a few brief minutes to myself reflecting on a busy holiday filled flying weekend. November is nearing an end. We still have a few days left, but the completion of our national holiday of Thanksgiving seems to be a fitting end of the month...to me at least. As I sit here evaluating my life I have many things to be thankful for. A truly wonderful life: amazing wife, kids, faith, good health, and wonderful friends. I am thankful for the ability to live in a country that had enough foresight (then at least) to create a day to stop and count ones blessings. One thing I am thankful for, for which this blog focuses on is the miracle of free-flight. Thankful for those pioneers who have gone before to not only prove it was possible, but to perfect it in such a way that someone like me can actually soar with the birds; no motors, no metal, and no machine...just fabric and string.
I am thankful for the ability to dream, and then to act. I remember the first time my feet left the ground just above the training hill. It was only for seconds really, but a life changing moment. I think every paraglider pilot remembers their first time, and it was probably that instant that solidified the pursuit of their dream.
I now have years of flying under my belt, hundreds of flights, and hundreds of hours in the sky. I have not been to the training hill in a very long time, yet the feeling of that first flight never quite fades. I know many pilots get tired of the quick, short flights of winter, and thus hang up the gear for a season. They ask "Is it really worth all that effort of hiking up for only 5 minutes in the sky?" To me, the time and effort required to hike up a mountain is but a small price to pay, even if my feet were only a few seconds above the ground. To me every moment in the sky is still a miracle, a dream come true, and one I hope to never lose enthusiasm for.
Until one experiences this miracle of free-flight it is difficult to express how magical it truly is. I try with words to describe it, but fail in such a task. The short videos I make are an attempt to convey that joy, exhilaration, and pure magic of the sport. Perhaps even share a small piece of my passion along the way. If one has ever had such a dream, maybe now is time for you to take to the sky.

This short video is a compilation of me and my close friends captured along the Wasatch mountains during several short flights throughout the month of November. It does not showcase the flights of the last few days, such as flying the meadows of Lone Peak on Thanksgiving morning, Friday evening flights on the upper north faces of Grandeur, or the Saturday flights over the city of Bountiful. Those will have to continue to live inside my memory.

Turning of the Tide

A week or so ago the Wasatch Mountains were hit with the first measurable snow of the year. This is usually a turning of the tide in paragliding when most pilots pack up their wings and pull out the ski gear in a mad rush for the hills of white. At the conclusion of the storm I too found myself heading up familiar hills, but not with hopes of gliding through fields of snow....but to continue floating over them. I have lived here in the Wasatch my whole life and have been skiing/snowboarding for 35 years. I have experienced every kind of powder turn, and to me nothing can compare to cutting through the winter sky in a paraglider. So I always look forward to winter flying. For me, there is no such thing as a beginning or end to the flying season, which many people find rather odd. For me, it is always time to fly the mountains. Sure the air texture and temperatures change with each season, but the pure miracle and exhilaration of flight never does.

Early Winter Evening Flight

I was lucky enough to capture a handful of thrilling days and rare treats in the wake of this last winter storm. Catching a few rare thermal days in the mountains. One special day flying up, over, and around Grandeur Peak and the surrounding canyons and mountains, all covered in white. Another flying up and around the Lone Peak area for a solid hour and a half in the early winter thermic air. Beautiful evening flights at sunset from high up in the mountains. Rare treats indeed!

View from my driveway...after the storm.

I think the last 72 hours have been the real turning of the tide. For winter has surely come. At my house, tucked up to the mountains, we have received over 24" of fluffy Utah snow. I have shoveled my driveway more times that I did all of last year. I too look forward to 'recreational' and relaxing ski days ahead with my kids, but I still look forward to carving the smooth, cold air of winter. This is a wonderful season for flying, and with the turning of the tide I look forward to keeping my feet off the ground as much as I can...after all my feet start hurting when they have been on the ground too long.

Winter Thermal Flying around Grandeur Peak

The storm has ended, the sky is clearing and my feet are starting to hurt again.... :o)

Maui Dreams

When most people think of traveling to the Hawaiian Islands they think of days spent on the beach, basking in the warm sun, tan bodies, expensive meals, and just melting into the sand. However to us, our ideal version is...well....a little bit different. It seems now when we travel we do so in an effort to look upward, instead of outward. Where the great beyond is no longer the horizon, but the wind and clouds swirling in skies above. So descending onto the island of Maui, with my wife by my side, and a paraglider on my back we are ready to experience the island in our own way!
My good friend Clark and his wife put together this trip, and we feel lucky to have been invited to experience Maui with two of the nicest people on the planet.

After a great morning of flying through the warm, thick air and greenery of Maui it was all smiles, but we knew why we were really here. The ultimate goal of this trip is to fly from the summit of Haleakala Volcano (10,023 ft) all the way to the Pacific Ocean (0 ft), some 15 miles away. After unsuccessfully hooking up with a local pilot, and seeing a small weather window now closing, it was clear things were not going our way. It is often in times like these it is imperative that you do not give up hope. As a matter of plain good luck, we happened to bump into two of our pilot friends from Salt Lake City who were on the island and also willing to give it a go. Several phone calls later, talking and consulting with local pilots, we were armed with the information needed to make this happen.

Surveying the conditions from the summit of Haleakala

We wake at 4:00 a.m. to black skies. Radar images illuminating from the glow of our smart phones provides us vital data as we bump down the road towards the volcano. As dawn begins to break the sky is shrouded in high altitude clouds. Winds aloft are strong, but at least heading the right direction. We continue driving knowing that our weather window is getting smaller and smaller with each passing minute. Once at the summit, we hike to the designated launch site, stand on the hillside, faces smacked with a disheartening 20+ mph wind. Okay, we have done this before...it is not fun, but possible. After all that is why we are here. We lay out our wings in the steady winds now blowing across the sharp lava covered hill. I am used to this type of strong crosswind right?.....right! A deep breath...inhale nerves, exhale confidence. A quick tug of the lines and the glider shoots upward. A rapid control line input onto the left side of the wing pulls it straight. I turn, my feet leave the ground, and then I am up...going up. I fly out front waiting for the others to launch, but eventually I turn towards the ocean trying to eek out every bit of altitude I can. As I make my way from the volcano and across the valley, I am reminded how magical this sport is. To be flying over and thru the clouds, with no motors, no machine, just fabric is literally a dream. After several instrument checks on bearing, glide ratio, and ground speed, I emerge from the clouds at the edge of the ocean with 1200 vertical feet to spare. I play over the water, then glide thru the palm trees and into the beach side park of Kihei. VICTORY!

Jeff and Allison after another morning of successful flying.

With our goal reached, we spend the remainder of our island days diving, swimming, surfing, driving, hiking, enjoying the culture, eating shaved ice, and of course flying almost every day from the upper benches of the volcano.  
We came to Maui with the goal to fly from the tip of a Volcano to the Ocean, and I feel blessed to have been granted success in that goal. Although the flight only lasted about 45 minutes, in the smoothest, and calmest air I have ever felt, it will go down in history as one of the coolest, and most surreal flights I have ever had. You mean you didn't sit on the beach, read a book, and have Barbie spritz you with tanning oil? Nope. We did eat lots of Cheetos though.

Overlook from the lower "Ferns" Volcano Launch

Special thanks to our wives for driving us all over the island. Thanks to the local pilots for pioneering, and establishing these wonderful sites. Thanks to Proflyght Paragliding for letting us come, fly, and film on their mountain. Maui is truly an inspirational place to fly a paraglider.
Cheetos anyone?