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?

Autumn Equinox - The End of Summer

With the Autumn Equinox now officially past, it definitively signals the end of Summer and a transition point into Autumn.  Here along Utah's Wasatch Mountains temperatures remain hot as summer, yet the colors of Autumn are beginning to glow in full glory along the foothills.


I find these solar phenomenons great opportunities to pause, look backwards on events past, and forward with anticipation on adventures soon to be.  As I reflect on just the last few weeks of paragliding around my home, it continues to be an honor flying with such great friends.  As members of the DEAF Crew we continue to point our eyes towards the mountains, and have been flying most every flyable day.  From Randolph to Strawberry Reservoir, and everything in between, we have been flying our way across the mountains, soaking up the beauty this world has to offer.

It is always hard watching the sun shift south, for we know the thermals are beginning to turn off.  I know most pilots tend to put the gear in the closet, pull out the skis, and wait again for warmer days to spring up.  For us, although sad to see the thermals go, our smiles seem to get a bit bigger (I know mine does).  For the cold days of autumn and winter lie ahead, which offers some of the most fantastic and rewarding mountain flying of the year.  Yes, I bid summer farewell (and what a summer it has been), but I smile looking forward to some of the best days that shortly lay ahead.

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?"