Skywalk Chili 3 Review - Initial Thoughts

The sky is closing in, and a patch of unsettled air is on the doorstep thus terminating any flying opportunities for the next few days. Just another springtime in the Wasatch mountains. This reprieve does give me a chance to pause and offer some thoughts on the new Skywalk Chili 3 (high end EN-B) wing. I received a brand new crisp Chili 3 from Skywalk a few weeks ago and have been flying it across my home mountain range. Over the last few weeks I have logged well over 200 km of cross country (XC) thermal flying with this wing over my head. No, this is not ridge soaring back and forth across the same hill, but rather putting it through the paces in high alpine, high altitude, turbulent spring air.

Flying high above the Wasatch Mountains, Utah (~12,000 ft)

Before I get too far into my review of the wing I think it is probably a good idea to pause, and perhaps explain the reasons why I choose to fly. Hopefully it will help you understand the context of this review and the lenses through which I look when experiencing this wing. I do not fly for competitions sake, for recognition, nor to be a part of some social flying community. My goals do not center around flying acro maneuvers, or to become some XC guru who flies with a big digital number on my wing. Each person's goals are their own, which is great, but those are not mine. After all, there are many other aspects and responsibilities in my life other than paragliding (what a shock). Outside my passion for flying I am a business owner, husband, and father. Every day my feet leave the ground in free flight I am keenly aware that I have clients, employees, a wife and kids that are counting on me, and need me to get back on the ground safely....every time! So, why do I fly? I fly for the peace, serenity, and perspective only to be found high above the earth. With no motors, no metal, no sound....just the VIEW. I measure my success, not by the number of kilometers behind me, but the size of the smile on my face. So, that being said here are my initial thoughts on the new Skywalk Chili 3:

Looks: I am flying the blue/black version of this wing and have to say it is probably to most beautiful looking wing out there. Alright, I know there is a personal preference to this one, but I have had several others offer similar opinions. So yes, it is a good look'n wing!

Initial Thoughts: My first thought when unpacking the glider was "wow, where are all the lines?" It is a true 3-liner and boasts only 239 meters of lines (25% less than the Tequila 3). Those lines are tiny as well. The upper brake cascades are so small you could floss your teeth with them. But, hey I trust the Skywalk engineers. They are brilliant, calculated individuals, and do not release a product until it is perfect! So thin lines? That is great. The wing also utilizes other Skywalk standards like Dyneema and Technora lines, Rigid foil (no mylars), jet flaps, and new C-wires in the middle of the wing to help the trailing edge stay solid. The A-risers have a nice Skywalk tab on them showing which riser you pull for Big Ears. With only 2-A's it is important to pull the right one! The tab makes that choice much easier.

Launching: I have been flying Skywalk's Tequila 3 for a couple years, and this last summer the Arriba 2 on hike-n-fly adventures, and throughout the Alps and cannot say enough great things about these wings. They are both phenomenal, but a little bit touchy to launch. At about 45 degrees above the ground they surge quickly, so you better have control of the brakes. When I launched the Chili 3 for the first time I was expecting the same dynamic reaction. Not so. The launch is super smooth. The wing comes up controlled and smooth from the initial pull of the A-risers until it is stable over your head, even in thermic conditions. A shocking, and welcome surprise for a higher performance wing.

Tequila 3 (White), Arriba 2 (Red), and the new Chili 3 (Blue) - All phenomenal wings!

Thermal Flying: Before flying the new Chili 3 I was told it was 'talkative.' Not sure what that really meant until I flew it in turbulent air. It took a few minutes in strong conditions to understand what it was  trying to 'say' to me, but once I got it, I GOT IT. Let me try and explain. When flying an EN-A or low EN-B wing you kind of bump through the turbulence. You generally feel the air, wing pressure, bumps, etc. in the brakes. The Chili 3 is not this way. You feel it in the risers, and thus it tends to move your butt around....a lot. Once I learned to understand what it was saying it took some of the guess work out of thermal flying. Before when I flew into a thermal I had a 50/50 chance of turning the right direction. With the Chili 3, by listening to what the wing is saying, it tells you very clearly where the thermal is, which direction to turn, and how steep your turn should be. It is a thermal hungry, climbing machine and often guides you right where you need to be....so long as you listen to what it is saying.

Turbulence: This is not a docile wing for beginners as it requires a lot of active piloting techniques. You need to know how to keep a wing over head in turbulence to fly it safely. That being said, I am actually very surprised how solid it is. It's 'talkative' nature keeps me working most of the time,  and I have taken only a few minor collapses (~30%) and both were in really strong thermic conditions. The wing behaved as it should, was stable, solid, easy to control and easy to reinflate. While in a steep turn while climbing it continues to 'talk' but has always remained very solid overhead, even when exiting. The key is always to control the surge on exit, and I found the control was there. Like I stated earlier I only have around 200 km of XC on the wing, but so far, so good!

Big-Ears / Speed Bar configuration

Descent: When trying to come down I found the big ears/speed bar combination to work extremely well on this wing. The descent is quick and fast (unless you are in rapidly ascending air). The other day I was still going up in full configuration at 400 ft/m. Crazy! But that was not the gliders fault, it descends actually quite well. The spiral dive approach ramps up a bit faster than the Tequila 3, but remained really smooth and easily controlled with outer brake and weight shift throughout the descent. I actually like spiraling down with this wing better than the Tequila 3 and Arriba 2, just because it had more dynamic action on it.

Landing: The first thing I noticed when landing was the wing flies much faster than the Tequila 3 or Arriba 2. That is where the jet flap technology comes into play, along with the C-wires in the middle ribs of the wing. These two elements in combination gave me the ability to fly quite slow, in a safe manner, thus allowing me to return to earth safely....which for me is a pretty important part of the flight!

Me and fellow pilot Matt (Green Chili 3) fly a short 35 km XC across the Wasatch

Conclusions: Well, I guess all I need to say about this wing is I LOVE IT!!! Yeah, I know I am a Skywalk Team Pilot and should say that, but the reality is, it really is an amazing high end EN-B wing. It seems to provide the performance of a EN-C with the safety of an EN-B. Right now in my flying career safety is much more important to me than performance. That being said I feel I am getting the best of both worlds. It is a great opportunity to be flying a higher performance wing that is very 'talkative' and responsive yet still has the overhead stability and overall safety that comes with an EN-B rating.

If you are interested in flying or buying a new Chili 3, talk to the U.S.A. Distributor Jonathan Jefferies of Utah Paragliding.

Pigeon Memories

Twice per day, like clockwork, a lone pigeon lands on the window sill at work, pecks the glass. A taunting reminder to my soul that I am the one sitting in the glass cage. A reminder that when the sky beckons, it is often a time to drop everything, and fly! Within reason of course.
This last week has been pretty quiet for paragliding as the weather has been less than flyable. In fact, it has been completely miserable. You would think I was living in the Oregon or something with all the rain (I do love Oregon by the way). I was able to sneak out for a short evening session on the North Side with only a few other pilots between gust fronts. It was an erie sky, but I just had to get out and get some time logged in my new wing from Skywalk. So with the lack of flying, it has caused some reflection.

My friendly pigeon. At least it is a picture.

A week or so ago all signs pointed to a potential XC day. As the day progressed I watched the cumulus clouds through my glass cage, bubble in perfect succession across the sky. It is still early spring, but I decided to give my home site a go. As I was hiking up to the launch, the air felt still....nothing lifting. When no air is lifting, my spirits often sink at this site, but hey, at least my feet will leave the ground. My home site is tricky in that you only have about 60 seconds to find some lift before you are on the ground! A few of my friends join me. We lay out our wings and wait. A promising piece of air lifts, and I launch. I rise for a few minutes then begin to sink. No lift anywhere, so I land halfway up the hill. Pull the wing from the sage brush, shoulder the load and hike back to the top. Clark and Paul attempt, with the same results.
Back on launch the air goes completely still. Looks like another sled ride. It is hot, so I take off my warm coat, stuff my gloves in the pockets of my shell and ditch my hat and all the camera gear into the back of my harness. My friends do the same.  I watch a bird off to my left slowly rising. Hmmm, still no breeze. I feel a little air on my sweaty face, enough to pull up my wing. I guess I will go, I should probably go home and see my family anyway. I smash my way through the scrub oak, turn left and settle into the harness. The precious seconds tick by, and the ground gets ever closer. I feel a gentle surge and my variometer beeps back. I turn. I center in the weak core. 50 turns later I am above 12,000 feet (~4,000m) nearly over Twin Peaks with Paul right below. My bare hands are freezing. I am able to pull my gloves from my pockets, put them on and keep climbing. So often when flying I find myself looking down; looking for thermal triggers, but at this altitude my attention turns up as we climb to cloud base. The lift increases, and it is time to head to the boundaries of the cloud. Speed bar engaged, and off we go.
The view of the Wasatch is indescribable. Still covered in snow, and being a thousand or more feet above the tallest peak. Yes, a view that not many humans get to experience. Oh sure, from an airplane maybe, from a cage, but not with the wind flowing across your face; not in the quiet solitude of nature. It is truly a touch of heaven above the earth. No camera this time. Just the memory.
Paul and I head towards Mount Olympus, then turn back. I hear Clark crackle through the radio. He too has found his way up over 9,000 feet. We chatter back and forth and decide to turn south and head for Draper. Clark has not yet done the milk run from here to The Point, so I tell him to stick together and we will make it in. From nearly 12,000 feet it is difficult to perceive depth, and seeing Clark below I fear we may not make it. Once over Little Cottonwood Canyon we decide to fly to Granite Park....a great first XC for the year. As we near the park I see Clark find some lift and start to turn. I quickly follow, and also find it. 30 turns later we are back at 11,000 feet. We make the turn south and literally glide all the way to Draper. A safe landing, despite the frozen bones. A few minutes pass and Paul glides in to land. A successful day. All smiles.

As I now sit in my glass cage, it is days like this that keep me sane, keep me looking forward to great adventures that lay ahead. Remind me of experiences I have been so lucky to have, experiences that so few ever taste. So when the pigeon knocks on my glass cage, It is a reminder that I just have to smile.

Is This My Life?

I have watched the yellow lines pass by outside my window for nearly 12 hours today. The landscapes have changed from oceans edge, thru desert heat, to the top of the snowy mountains I call home. While driving, I happened to find an audio book buried in my iPhone, and trying to pass the hours I turned it on. As I tried to keep my eyes open as the hours passed, one quote caught my attention. In the story an old wise man said the following: “I don’t live in either my past or my future. I’m interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man....life is the moment we’re living now.” As I thought on that statement for several hours, my mind not only reflected on the moments of the last 10 days, but also those important moments that encompass my life.

 
The last 10 days have been packed with a harness full of memorable moments, treasures in my life. Soaring coastal cliffs over deep blue waters, thermal flying many thousands of feet over various desert mountains and valleys; camp fires, great friends, burned chicken, orange brownies, flying kites, and playing 'brain quest' with my kids through endless hours in the car. It is true that every day is a blessing, a miracle really. A miracle that deserves our utmost energy to truly live, to take advantage of these fleeting moments of time. It has been a wonderful week spending time with Clark and his awesome family; getting a glimpse of what a 14 year old can actually eat in any given day. It is great traveling with people who share the same values, ideals and enthusiasm for life....so much so that I am always exhausted at the end of the day (the way it should be). Great to spend time with Gary and his wonderful family. Although his hair is silver, his passion for paragliding, surfing, and life burns brighter than most.

As I reflect on the moments of my life, I realize despite challenges and hardships I am truly a lucky human being. Thankful for the miracle of flight that has sunk its talons deep into my soul. It continues to make my heart race, make me smile, and remind me of what is important in life; The smile of my kids, the touch of my wife, faith in a power bigger than myself, and the endless wind in my extended arms. Yes, this is my life and it continues to be an amazing journey.

The Valley Crossing.....

Soaring the cliffs of Torrey Pines

Feet extending into the sky

Clark carving high above the desert mountains

There's a Springtime Ahead

Music is an important part of my life. I like all kinds and flavors. I am particularly drawn to the lyrical aspect of music, and often find myself dwelling on melodic words from time to time. This winter has been the longest, coldest, grayest winter I can remember in recent years. Through the gray times I have often been reminded of a favorite lyric from an acoustical performance by Pearl Jam. The song has a rather sad tone, but in my opinion represents one of the best songs ever written. A particular line echoes "No matter how cold the winter, there's a springtime ahead." I have been looking forward to that springtime, both literally and metaphorically all winter long.

It feels like spring. View from my house.

The grass in my yard has been covered in snow since late October. There has been two feet of ice hanging off my rain gutters, with icicles extending all the way to the ground. Then, all of the sudden it seems to have happened. The ice has miraculously disappeared and I can see patches of grass again. The air has a musty smell to it as the ground is trying to breath once again...and two days ago I actually felt a thermal lift, and with it a smile crossed my face.

I love winter, and continue to fly just as intensely during that season as I do throughout all the other months of the year. However, with Spring comes lifting air again, which means longer, higher flights, and the ability to actually travel somewhere other than down. As I rolled out of bed this morning and glanced at the weather forecast I quickly realized that today the air is going to lift!

Waiting for the right thermal cycle.

The early afternoon finds me and Matt hiking up the familiar trail to Lone Peak in a light north wind. Approaching the first open meadow it is clear that warm air is rising....perhaps we launch from here? Saves us from hiking another 1500 vertical feet. I lay out my glider amidst the breathing grass, bushes and deer droppings (only in the west). We wait for the right cycle of thermal waves, watching the vultures effortlessly circle upward. Then we see the grass move, and feel the cycle begin.

8,000 feet above the Wasatch

Lift the risers, feel the pull and then step into the sky. It does not take long for instinctive skills to kick in as a response to the violent early spring thermal that just slammed my wing. The focus sharpens and the texture of the air now resonates through every one of my human senses. Several minutes later, climbs in excess of 8,000 feet, I continue to circle and take in the magnificent views of the snow covered Wasatch Mountains. I have missed it these several months... it is good to be back up here. After several minutes Matt and I both decide to turn west and fly out to The Point for the first cross country flight of the year. As I cross the valley and fly in towards the final ridge it is clear that no air is lifting here and about halfway down the ridge I turn back and land in the neighborhood park.

With my feet now firmly back on the ground I feel a new sense of energy and revitalization. I am sure we will see a few more snow storms in the coming weeks, but now I actually feel the realization that there IS a springtime ahead.

Just Look Up

Every so often I have moments of quiet reflection; brief pauses in life where I actually stop and realize how truly lucky I am.  The last few months have been difficult ones for me, and unfortunately I see many more challenges that probably lay ahead. The recipe for this last month has been unbearable cold, mixed with thick gray smog, so thick you can actually taste it. With weeks on end without ever seeing the sun or stars. All wrapped up in a day in, day out career that for some reason continues to be undervalued and ever slipping into a common cheap commodity. It feels at times that the cold, gray trenches of misery are going to last for the rest of ones life...then I just look up through the smog and see the blue sky smiling upon me.

Locked in a small winter thermal in the mountains above Provo, Utah

The act of just looking up is forever a reminder of how truly lucky I am, and really how awesome my life is. So many people on this earth never get to experience the common miracles I take for granted almost every day. Although riddled with bouts of misery, the last month has produced breathtaking visions of beauty and memories that have forever etched their way into the history of my soul. I continue to reverence the absolute miracle of flight. So often while in the sky, carving the textures of air I find myself talking out loud to higher powers. Often these conversations revolve around the fact that so many people only dream of flying like a bird, no motors or metal, just wings; and here I am actually doing it....how truly lucky I am. Every time my feet leave the ground, I try and make it a point to remember that miracle.

I am so thankful for a great wife and kids who are always so supportive and understanding when the sky calls my name, which is most days. Thankful to great friends, near and some far, who share the same unquenchable passion for the sky. Thankful for the memories we, as the DEAF Crew, have forged together through the years. I am also thankful for the many hours of actually hiking and flying alone this month with only my thoughts and the views of nature to keep me company.

Yes, I am a truly lucky individual surrounded by wonderful miracles, knowing that if I just look up, there is solace to be found in the sky!

Carving the blue sky - Skywalk Arriba 2

Solo hike and fly above the smog layer.

Enjoying the clean mountain air above the pollution.

Paul and I on a ski-n-fly in Big Cottonwood as a storm bears down. - Skywalk Arriba 2

Solo flight off the lower meadows of Lone Peak...just me and the deer.

Solo soaring session on the South Side...a rare day indeed - Skywalk Tequila 3

Rise Above the Gray

Every winter when a strong high pressure builds over our now crowded valley, temperatures flip upside down. This inverted air traps below freezing temperatures to the ground and engulfs every thing in a thick gray blanket of smog. As the air gets ever colder, it gets ever dirtier, thicker, and even the snow loses it's pure luster. This gray can last for days upon days and at times there seems to be no escape. However, to those of us that live in the foothills, we know the only way out is to head for the mountains.


Paragliding Thru Winter - 2013 from DEAF Crew on Vimeo.

This short video was taken over the last several days as me and a few of my friends headed for the hills, with paragliders on our backs, and adventure in our hearts in search of relief from the dull gray inversion of the valley. Like most things in life, if you are willing to put forth a little effort, brave the elements, and expend a little energy, you can rise above the gray and be rewarded with beauty only to be found in the blue.

As I sit here and stare out my office window, I am once again engulfed in the gray blanket. Another adventure to the blue is calling my name. Yeah, what else is new....the blue sky has been calling my name for years!

A New Year of Diamonds in the Sky

Self portrait looking down

It seems every time the DEAF Crew gets together an adventure is bound to follow. With clouds bubbling through the high mountains, light winds, and freezing cold temperatures, it seems like a good winter day to fly. So, I rally the troops and we all arrive at the designated trailhead. We start walking from here, up to the Bonneville Shoreline trail, then begins the long hike up the west ridges towards Lone Peak. It is surprising how hard it is snowing as we hike, I mean REALLY snowing.  About halfway up the faint trail vanishes into the deepening snow leaving us the task to break trail through thigh deep snow. We have all flown this enough that finding the trail is like second nature. The higher we go the deeper it gets. The deeper it gets, the more icy the under ground is...sure glad I have my gators and crampons. Slowly we slog our way to the knife ridge, then up to the launching field some 3,000 vertical feet (1000 m) above the valley floor.

Jeff (the boot), Paul, Clark and Matt trudging through thigh deep snow.

It is great to have all four of us together at the same time again...the right way to start the year! We find a nice wind blown patch of snow to launch from. Lay out our gear then get dressed up like we are going to the moon...it is after all -10º C up here. Clipped in, ready, the winds begin to settle downslope...no time to wait. We punch off in quick succession, like fighter jets from an aircraft carrier out into a snowy filled sky. As we descend, punching through the inversion layer the sun appears glistening the falling diamonds in the sky. A magical glass off flight in the setting sun.

A nice wind blown launch site

What a great way to start off the New Year, a cold way, but a great way nonetheless. I look forward to another year filled with great adventures and experiences with my good buddies Paul, Clark, and Matt. I feel lucky to be part of such a great crew to fly with.

Self portrait coming out of the clouds...isn't it cold? YES

Arial view of Matt. Paul way down on the left side of the frame, Clark above me...and the deer? They are in there too.

Already looking forward to the next adventure....maybe tomorrow?

Lonely Skies

Beautiful skies just before launch

There is a certain level of peace and solitude to be found in the snowy mountains of winter. There is just something special about the calm and quiet air that I find refreshing. It lacks the anticipated bubbling energy and excitement that so often causes my palms to sweat and heart to race come early spring. Productive thermal activity is greatly diminished in the cold snowy air, which brings a relaxing change. December has been quite stormy, which has brought strong winds and a bounty of snow, with beautiful skies and still plenty of great days to fly...so long as you are willing to brave the elements.

Self portrait-knee deep in snow

This month I have found myself flying mostly alone in the solitude of winter. Sure there has been a few days here and there flying amongst friends, but mostly my companions have been the mule deer that populate the Wasatch foothills. As the snow keeps falling, and covering each of our tracks, we have been taking turns setting the trails. Sometimes the deer break trail for me, and when it is fresh, I find it my duty to break it for them. Although generally silent, their presence has kept me company.

Racing to beat the snow

Flying through different winter storm cycles provides opportunities to experience different textures of air, to learn, experiment, and redefine your boundaries and limits as a pilot. However, one must always exercise good judgement and know your own limits and skill level. I have had some interesting flights this month that have provided new knowledge to draw upon. I have experienced 30 mph catabatic winds rush in with no warning from a calm upslope breeze. Such winds threw my glider off the mountain and down into a canyon (glad I wasn't hooked in). I have experienced unique thermal flights in the middle of snow storms. It is always interesting to be going up, while the snow falls down. I have had many mid-day and afternoon flights in the snow covered canyons and foothills. At the request of a good friend I even ventured to the Point of the Mountain for a north side thermal flight (haven't been there since May). No crowds, students, instructors, tandems or spectators...just a couple friends, soaring high above the bench for an hour or so in the freezing cold air. A rare treat indeed!

Shallow wing over before landing

As I look back on the month it has been a refreshing and peaceful change. The mountains now covered in white continue to provide wonderful views, calm air, and beautiful skies. They have offered a lot more quiet solitude than normal, but I find I am never quite alone...I still have the deer to keep me company.

Gliding in the smooth moonlight

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?

What's the Point?

As I look into the rearview mirror, reflecting on the last week, what an exceptional week it has been! The flying has been incredible, the views breathtaking, and the friends as memorable as always.  Three of the last four days have been spent flying 'The B', my home site, and one I fly almost every flyable day in the summer months. The leaves are starting to change, but even under the threat of autumn, the heat remains way above bearable.  With colder air up high, great flying conditions is a bit of an understatement.

Synopsis:

• First flight up and out to Granite in the weakest conditions I have ever felt here.  It took a very long time (like over an hour) to work what little lift was available in order to get up and out, and required me to call upon every little secret and skill I have learned from flying this place over the last two years.  As the sun was setting and the glass off happened, it made for a beautiful peaceful experience.

• Second flight up and out to The Point in a little more windy conditions.  Paul and I were the only ones to get up to the Hounds Tooth quickly.  Paul turned south early, I waited awhile for the others (JJ) to gain altitude. Once they arrived we turned and went south.  Bell's Canyon was less than enjoyable as the air was like being tossed around in a washing machine (lee side thermal flying is often like that).  Made it over Lone Peak and then headed out to the Point.  It was SUPER windy....like zero penetration in to the wind, so instead of 'Benching Up' on the North Side, and getting sucked over the mountain (i've had enough lee side flying for one day) I decided to fly back and land at the Draper pool...the right choice!

• Third flight, the worst launch I have ever had at The B....but perhaps one of the smoothest flights ever.  No wind at all today, which means the lift was 'up' so long as you knew where to look.  I found a great climb up to 11,000 feet over the Hounds Tooth, and with nobody else in sight, except for the small gliders well below, I decided to head south and wait for the others in Bell's Canyon.  Clark made it to Little Cottonwood (his first time), Gary to the Point, Paul went north to Grandeur, and I had so much fun up in Bell's Canyon then out to Lone Peak, then doubled back to land in Hidden Valley (makes the retrieve for my wife so much easier).

On the last flight there were a slew of pilots at launch, all talking about wanting to fly to 'The Point' today.  This is a pretty common conversation here as it seems every time there are other pilots, that is what they want to talk about.  I have been wondering lately why that is?  Sure, I have flown from here to The Point many times, its fun, but not that epic (at least after Lone Peak).  Is reaching The Point, or some far destination the sole reason why they are flying that day?  To me, although a nice goal, I think it more important to enjoy the journey.  We fly over some of the most scenic portions of the Wasatch Mountains, granite walls, spires, canyons, etc. If we are so focused on just the goal, wanting nothing more than glory awaiting us at the destination, and don't stop to revel in the fact our feet are dangling over spectacular views, then...."what's the point?"

Strawberry Tranquility

It is already August, and with summer vanishing before our eyes my family and I decide to do a short, spur of the moment camping trip to Strawberry.  Having flown this site before, it is a great opportunity to get some flying.  Paul and his small family join us as well.

Paul and Jeff in the evening sky over Strawberry

The wind is howling, making flying not really a possibility, but patience often pays off in this sport if you are willing to just wait.  Around 7:30 it starts to calm a bit, so we all hike out to the ridge.  Paul and I launch in to the prevailing winds and are rewarded with a nice evening flight in the golden air above the lake.

Jeff flying through the setting sun

As I land back up on the ridge, and start folding up my wing a small elk herd exits the cover of the adjacent aspen trees.  Quietly calling to one another as they make their way across the ridge and into the trees beyond.  The sun has set and I continue to fold amidst the purples of dusk.  Below, the coyotes begin howling.  As I walk back to camp in the dark, I am reminded of how awesome this world is, and how lucky I am to get to hang out here for awhile.

Paragliding the Western Alps

Just as summer starts morphing into a great pattern of warm lifting air, it is time to bid Utah farewell and turn my sights towards another set of mountains...a bit further east. I know most people would rather watch the video than read the boring travelog, so by all means...



It is impossible to summarize almost a month of paragliding in the Western Alps into just a few paragraphs.  But, I am going to ry.  Before this becomes too much of a travelog I ought to let you know a bit about me and my thoughts on travel.  

In general, I am not real keen on experiencing new cultures, new people, or trying new food.  Well to be honest, I am not particularly fond of the human race as a whole either.  I generally do not like the city environment, bustling people, and eating ranks in my book as one of the least desirable activities one could ever do.  Yeah, I know I am not normal.  I find most happiness in the middle of the wilderness where only grizzly bears and wolves keep me company...so a trip to 'Europe' has never been too high on my list of desirable travel destinations.  That being said my eight days in Germany earlier this year was a fantastic experience for me (probably because no big cities were involved).  It was this great experience that has opened my eyes to a greater world that exists away from the standard European cities, and thus caused me to gladly accept this opportunity to visit rural France.  Now on to the travelog:

Armed with a brand new wing from Skywalk Paragliders (now an official team pilot), GoPro cameras, airline tickets, passport and, oh yeah, my family, it is off to France for a month of flying in the French and Swiss Alps.  This was not really a planned trip when I was putting together my year, but I am thankful for this unique opportunity.  Me and my family have been invited to spend the summer with Gary and Paul at their home in a small village in the French Alps.  With extremely high hopes for flying we board the plane on a direct flight from Salt Lake City, Utah to Paris, France.  Several hours later we find ourselves pulling into the small farming village of Les Cotes de Corps, near the town of Corps, France.

Top of the launch above the house...we fly towards the lake.

Corps is a small town (which is great), but in France that means there is nowhere really to eat, or available food (not even a grocery store).  The bread store is rarely open and it sells....well, only bread.  Lucky for me right?  Well after several days of just bread, it starts to become an issue as hunger starts to set in.  Les Cotes de Corps is a beautiful spot in the world.  Nestled in the hills, surrounded by mountains and glacial lakes.  The home in which we are staying was built in the early1700’s, yeah thats right, it was built before the USA was even a country.  Pretty awesome!

The paragliding here is off the charts beautiful, and pretty darn good when the sun is shining.  We have flown all through the mountains around our place in all kinds of conditions.  Morning, mid-day, evening, really late evening; foggy, windy, really windy, catabatic, thermic, convergence, you name it!  It has been awesome!!!  The best flight I have ever had in my life to date was off a mountain just around the corner in a town called Mens.  A drive up launch, a groomed (like rubber) launch site, and 3000 feet to play with.  Paul and I hook into some small lift and are able to work it back up into the mountains.  It ends us being a several hour flight as Paul and I fly across the entire range, back and forth.  At each canyon we lock into thermals that take us back up into the clouds.  There is just something magical about flying through the clouds, over high alpine meadows, above european groomed farm fields.  Just magical.

Flying the range over Mens, France

Allison, the kids and I went off on our own spur trip to Italy, Switzerland, Chamonix, and then linked back up with the others in Annecy.  The flying was spectacular through Interlaken, high above the glaciers in Chamonix, and over the lakes and cliffs of Annecy.  Just too many memories or flights to list here.

Setting up to fly in Chamonix, France

If you plan on visiting rural france (outside Paris) there are a few lessons learned through this trip that might be of interest to you.

1. We were told that everybody in France speaks English...no they do not!  “Oh they do, they just don’t like to.”  That is a false statement as well.  Maybe in Paris that's true, but everywhere else in France NOBODY speaks english.  So you better brush up on the basics.  I am not kidding, learn some basics so you can eat, buy gas, or even buy an ice cream (yeah, we didn’t get that right the first time either).
2. When paragliding, speak english, as it is sometimes a benefit to not speak French.  Especially when you don’t have a european paragliding license, or when another pilot tries to step in front of you.
3. There is no order to a line in France (bakery line, ski lift line, launch line, etc.) Fight for your place up front, otherwise it will get taken from you...learned that one the hard way.
4. Paragliding through Europe and in the French Alps is something every devout paraglider pilot must do.

Flying through the French Alps

In the end, this has been a fabulous experience for not only me, but my wife and kids.  It has been great to expose my kids to a bigger world out there, to appreciate what they have, and never forget how good american sour cream tastes. Oh who am I kidding, I ate a whole tub myself when I got home too.  I look forward to going back someday....perhaps someday soon.  I am ever grateful for my faithful paragliding buddies Gary and Paul; and my wife Allison for driving us all over the country side making sure we made it home safe.  Also very grateful to Gary and Paul’s family members for letting us tag along, and letting me pull them away from family time and into the mountains to fly basically every second of the day.  

Till next time...

Summer's On the Way

Every season is unique, and although the calm days of winter are ending, they are being rapidly replaced with the energetic and dynamic days of summer.  It has been so hot lately, it feels like we have leap frogged over spring and right into summer.  With the warming air I continue to fly virtually every flyable day.  It seems every month we continue as a group to log dozens of mountain flights.  The shorter flights of early spring are now being replaced by flights where both duration and altitudes continue to increase in the thermic air.  I have been flying many of our standard hike-n-fly sites, as well as the majority of the sites along the Wasatch.  I have also been spending more time at home flying The B is which is a welcomed change.

April in Review

As I sift through the memories, flights, photographs, and videos of the last month I have to just giggle a bit.  Spring appears to be falling upon us, but still the cold air of winter lingers.  The month has taken us across the state from beautiful flights above the cliffs of Randolph down to great thermal flights off the Provo Y... and everything in between.  It was nice to get in the air above my home at The B again, and to be honest, not so bad getting a good hike-n-fly off the North Side at Point of the Mountain.  I haven't flown there in months, and you forget how smooth the air is there.  So much so, that you almost do not even need to think.  Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the view. It has been a fantastic month, and I look forward to another fabulous season in the sky.



As many of you know, I rarely fly at the Point of the Mountain as my sights are often set on the surrounding mountains, and beyond.  I am finding in my conversations with budding pilots, that everyone is just plain nervous about flying sites away from The Point of the Mountain, away from their instructors care, and therefore many are just falling away from the sport.  I feel there has got to be a way to help pilots develop, help the public understand what we do.  Perhaps through education and exposure we can overcome some of the challenges that face us here in Utah.  Issues like wilderness boundaries, insurance, and general understanding of what paragliding is...I will have to think on that.

Local Ramblings of the DEAF Crew

Winter continues to be kept at bay, which is bad for snow, water, and life in the valley, but it continues to be oh so good for flying.  As the weeks pass we continue to find ourselves rambling around our Wasatch Mountains, enjoying the calm winter skies, and believe it or not, cashing in a few light thermal and short cross country days as well.  We continue to frequent our local sites from Bountiful down to Lone Peak.  We hike, fly, and smile as we feel a hint of warm air returning.  However, with the returning of warmer air, I will miss the calm, cold air flights of winter.  Some of the most memorable, and inspiring flights of the year are found in the icy skies of winter.  Gliding off the upper plateaus of Lone Peak in knee deep snow and out into the orange sunset; or flying off The V, above the polluted inversion layer as the valley darkens below.  These are the memories that last, and ones that never seem to fade.

The DEAF Crew continues to solidify as we add a new member to the group.  Clark, a new pilot who has been flying with us the last few months, and one whose enthusiasm earns him the right to be a part of this unique crew.  It is great to be a part of a group of highly dedicated pilots that do not fit the...well....typical paraglider pilot mold.  I am proud to be a member of such a group, and one who collectively, and individually emulates a pure passion for flying.

A Skywalk Adventure

I stare out into the blackness of night, unable to sleep, but knowing the day is passing by. Every few seconds a red light flashes illuminating the wing from darkness.  Today will be shorter by eight hours, which means if I don't sleep now I am going to be worthless. I try to get in a few hours but, 2 or 3 restless hours is hardly enough. I stare out in the pre-dawn sky and see London passing by, glowing gold in the darkness of dawn.  I realize I am actually over Europe and will soon be landing. As I cruise through the air, my thoughts race forward to the events that may lie ahead. Right now they are still unknown, but I meet them mentally with some fear and trepidation. I have never been off this continent....Hawaii doesn't count. Never been to a foreign culture....again, Canada doesn't count. But if life is about living, gaining knowledge and having new experiences...then perhaps I am on the right track.

As I look back on my life... I think I am learning to live in the moment, learning to enjoy the journey a bit more than I have in the past. Since I have learned to paraglide, learned to fly, a skill and hobby that consumes much of my energy, I have opened myself up to a new world of experiences, friends, and now memories. It is this developing love of flying that is the reason for the trip. I am on my way to Grassau, Germany for a 5 day conference with Skywalk Paragliders. They have been kind enough to invite me out to their corporate headquarters for a week. I am traveling with my friend, mentor and original instructor Jonathan Jeffries as he is one of only two Skywalk representatives for the USA.

At this point I will spare you from my boring travelog.  I know nobody wants to know what I had for dinner, or what time I went to bed...after all this blog is about paragliding right??  So on to the flying.


A day later and after spending hours in solitude walking the surrounding forest and small village several miles away, just soaking up Germany it is time to get in the air.  After wandering through Skywalk's inventory racks, piled with wings, Jonathan, Tetsu (Japan), Ian (UK), and myself grab some flying gear and head for the mountains of Austria. Absolutely amazing! As we drive through the alps and pass small villages I can't believe how beautiful each is all nestled in small pristine valleys.

Once in Austria we arrive at Kossen Mountain, hike to the resort, buy a gondola ticket and fall inline with the skiers. So strange to be able to walk right next to the skiers, with your paragliding stuff, and not get strange looks. We get off, hike a few hundred feet and find ourselves at a beautifully groomed launch site. So foreign, but so awesome.  A quick layout of my glider for the day (black and white Chili 2) a few tugs on the A-lines, the wing lifts, turn, run and watch the snow fall below me. I stare up into the Wilder Kaiser mountains. Not much lift anywhere, but flying several thousand feet high above the valley floor and among the snow covered Austrian Alps is a memory not soon to be forgotten. As we all get in the air, it is awesome to look around and see just a bunch of Skywalk paragliders in the air. Everybody having a good time playing in the smooth winter air! A safe landing in the huge designated LZ right next to the ski school area. We quickly pack up our wings and head up for another. Like little kids in a candy store, we just can't get to the top fast enough. Once at the top we again get all set up and all launch into the air together. There is a little more lift and we are able to stay in the air a bit longer, goofing off and having just a great time. After this, it seemed everyone was kinda done, so I went up by myself for just one more. After all that is why I am here...to fly. Another awesome flight. The afternoon is getting later, and just so amazing flying around in these mountains. In Utah, our mountains are so spectacular, but being in Austria is just an amazing experience with the small villages, the beautiful vistas, and the acceptance of the sport.

Above the Village of Grassau, Germany

Through several days of Skywalk training it is clear this group is a melting pot of cultures.  Pilots from various countries all over the world.  People from Romania, Japan, UK, Turkey, Korea, Israel, Hungary, Italy, Spain, Columbia, Australia, etc. JJ and I are the only ones from North America.  After several days together learning, testing, and getting to know Skywalk Paragliders it is clear this is a fabulous company, filled with great people, brilliant engineers, and talented test pilots.  What a wonderful opportunity to meet and mingle with so many great people.  I have learned that regardless of languages and cultures, we all share the same passion for flying, and it is wonderful.

As my eyes reluctantly turn home I reflect on a fantastic and memorable adventure. Meeting great new friends, flying in the Austrian alps, and continuing in this fantastic road that paragliding has set me on. At the close of the trip I am enthusiastic for Skywalk, and honored to be considered as the only Skywalk team pilot in the United States. I am not sure what that means right now, but I am thankful for their support and their faith in me as a pilot.  As I look back on my tenure as a pilot it is amazing how far this sport has taken me, and helped to define my life. I am learning that perhaps throwing out the goals that society so regularly demands is perhaps the best approach to learning to live in the moment. It continues to amaze me how much freedom and happiness I have found in flying and I want to share that with others. I think I walk out of Germany with renewed confidence and a deeper passion for this wonderful sport.