newer pilots tend to feel fear. This is not usually the most helpful emotion. We tend to fly, think and
respond more effectively from a peaceful state. Thus part of our job during the learning stages of
thermalling is to discipline ourselves to stay clear mentally and not clutter our mind with fear.
Efficiency while thermalling demands that we multi task. At any given moment there may be 20 to
40 things that are “requesting” our attention. We notice those requests by filtering and grading them
through our emotional system. The more fearful we feel, the more exclusively we focus on that one bit
of information to the exclusion of the thousands of others (we cease to multitask). This can be helpful
but only if it is truly a dangerous emergency, which thermal turbulence almost never is.
Most humans are capable of bringing to consciousness 3 to 5 brain cell firings out of the 10,000 going on
in any given instant. In a state of fear, that drops to one and that one quickly becomes a repeating loop
that occupies our awareness excluding new information. To treat a non dangerous situation as fearful in
this way is inefficient in the least and dangerous at its worst. These are just brain cell firings not entire
thoughts so having a complete thought about 20 things in an instant and making an informed decision
is quite impossible. This is why we create patterns that we can repeat without thinking. Every time we
create a fear emotion around turbulence we shut down the creative process and go into the pattern
of non thinking fight or flight. It is more useful to create a pattern of “It’s just information”, beautiful,
helpful, useful information. This frees up our mind to notice the bits of information that we can then
interpret and respond to in order to create more efficiency which creates more altitude, distance and
enjoyment.
Information is constantly being communicated to us by our wing about the parcel of air that it is
flying through. We must first be in a receptive state (peaceful), and secondly be able to process and
respond appropriately to that information through establishing attitudinal habits of response (It’s just
information). The information from the wing needs to be felt openly, accurately and clearly. Then we
create the opportunity to respond to that information in the most timely and useful manner. This is a
virtual impossibility when in a state of fear.
When we feel a bump when flying, think of it as information, not dangerous. From that state of curiosity
we not only have choices, we are also in a creative state from which we are much more likely to respond
to the information with the most efficient communication back to our wing about what we want to do
with that increase or decrease in pressure or movement. This is understanding and using the language
of the wing.
Example: We are on an xc flight, 2 good pilots on 2 similar C wings. Pilot A is in a fearful and distracted
mood. Pilot B is peaceful and on purpose. Because of this B responds more efficiently than A 93%
of the time during the 5 hour XC flight and ends up flying 18 miles farther than A and feeling better
about herself, the site, the route, the sport, and she had more fun and learned more. B has many more
seconds of efficiency and clear thinking than A and ends up at the top of the lift faster and makes more
efficient choices throughout the day (like leaving lift earlier during the meat of the day).
For pilots, thinking clearly and creatively in each moment is a useful space from which to fly. Flying in
fear is like flying brain dead. There is little or no clarity or creativity. When or mind is more alive and
engaged we enjoy the flight more and make more efficient and safer decisions.
If I notice fear in myself, I repeat in my mind or out loud, “In peace my safety lies”. I also remind myself
that if I am not getting folds of the glider that are over 60%, it is not dangerous. If I do get a deflation of
over 60% the “In peace my safety lies” becomes a little more enthusiastic but that is when the attitude
and clarity becomes even more critical. Your wing is saying, “Here is some information about the parcel
of air I am in right NOW, what do you want me to do with it?” Your wing has a language. It is not going to
learn English, you need to learn IT’S language.
Ken Hudonjorgensen
]]>This year we have divided the tour into 4 different segments: Instructional Days, Iquique Days # 1, 2 and 3. Our Tour leaders are: Todd Weigand, Luis Rosenkjer and Ken Hudonjorgensen. The entire tour will be packed with instruction for all levels of paragliding (including P1thru p4). For anyone wanting to fly, fly, fly… this is the tour to join. The last tour will focus more on XC.
For dates and costs, check out information here, PROGRAM IQUIQUE 2014 and then contact Ken about availability.
To book a tour, contact Ken at Two-Can Fly Paragliding, 801-971-3414
Thank-you Peter Grey and Dennis Pagan. You stimulate our sometimes sluggish and complacent minds.
I would like to throw my non-scientific, but experience referenced thoughts on the subject in the ring anyway. Stimulating conversations, like yours, and my observations of thermals through being in them and viewing their shapes have led me to reach the following always changing and useful (to me) conclusions about thermals.
Three generally shaped categories are useful to me as a foot launched, non-motorized, pilot: pancake, cone, and snake. Each category creation has to do with energy reserve and inertia. How much and how quickly has the heating been happening, is it happening now and how long and strong is it continuing to happen? The energy of a thermal of course has to do with more than just heating. Otherwise we would only have to check the temperature differential between degrees and amount of time to figure out if it is going to be a good thermal day. But it is not just lapse rate that we check. We also check the jet stream and pressure and moisture content, top of the lit and lifted index and k index, look at the sky, feel the cycles etc.. There are also many things we don’t understand enough about yet to even understand that we should be checking it, or how to check it or what “it” is. If this were not true we would be 100% accurate on our thermal predictions every day. I have not yet met the pilot who can do that.
These 3 models are useful to me whether they are “real” or not. I have seen, felt and experienced them being useful to me while flying. There may be other additional or replacement models that I find more useful next week. I certainly hope we all continue to improve our modeling so that we don’t stagnate. We are grateful to you Peter and Dennis for stirring our sometimes-stagnant thermal pond.
I find the triggering model useful also but let’s see what someone else has to say about that.
]]>by Mike Kinney & Wes Brown
]]>I reached down for my reserve handle. I did not think about the fact that I still had my brake in my hands since there was very little tension on the brake lines, although I probably turned myself more towards the rocks in the process. I fly an AVA Racer harness with the reserve under the front of the seat board. I pulled the handle and nothing happened. Then I REALLY pulled the handle with all the force I could muster and the reserve came out, but it also fell out of my hand before I could give it a good fling. I watched my bridle extend and I looked at the bag at the end of it, but nothing came out. Not a good feeling. I knew that if the reserve did not deploy, I was going to be in a whole lot of trouble. Just as I was thinking I needed to jerk the bag my wing gyrated hard to the left and I knew that would deploy the reserve. It did. Almost instantaneously after the jerk of the wing I heard velcro pulling free and felt the tension of my reserve at my shoulders. My next thought was “down planing” and I looked up to see what my paraglider was doing. I never saw it, because as I looked up all I saw was tree branches racing past me. Then I stopped. From the time I felt the reserve until I was in the tree was probably only 1 second. The entire episode took less than 10 seconds, and seconds matter with a reserve deployment. My reserve (which I recovered, will reuse, will recommend to others, and love) is a LARA Gold 250 and it worked like a charm. It had been packed by Doug and Denise at Aerial Paragliding, although I had not had it repacked for over 2 years, which is something I will not let happen again.
To go from “I am pretty sure I am going to be severely hurt or killed in the next few seconds” to “I am hanging in a tree, unharmed” is a wonderful feeling. But I was still not sure I was safe since I had no idea if the wing was secure. I tried to look up, but I could not really see anything with the reserve bridle pressing against my helmet and I was still hearing breaking branches. I was facing a large tree truck but as I reached for it the small branches broke off in my hands. I was afraid that I would fall through the trees to the ground, about 70 feet below me (although it looked even farther because I was facing downhill on a very, very steep slope). I heard Dale Covington on the radio reporting seeing someone throwing a reserve and going into the trees. I transmitted my name and pilot number and that I was uninjured, and then I very carefully tried to swing towards the tree. I was able to grab a branch and pull myself against the trunk, which was about 12 inches around and I had good live branches around me so finally I felt secure. I then radioed my GPS coordinates. I was at 7,303 feet and the valley floor was just over 4,000 feet. I looked down to see if I could climb down. No way. Below me were all small dead branches and I could not bear-hug that far down. I had not packed my tree rescue kit, which I carry when I fly in Washington, because I did not think I would be flying over trees in Utah.
I ended up waiting in the tree for 3 hours. I could hear sirens and then the helicopters started to arrive. The news helicopters circled while the Lifeflight helicopter came up to check out access routes to me. I was not in an easy place to get to. At one point there was a transmission that there was a team headed up from below, which I was sure meant that I would be spending the night in the tree. One pilot who had been acting as a wind-dummy for the competition, Sebastian Meier, was sent out with a rope and a saw to look for a place to top land his paraglider and help me. He side-hilled in a very nasty area at great risk to himself, and then started the grueling 1,500-foot hike up. Dave Dixon, a pilot in the competition who also happens to be a local fireman and captain of a technical rescue team, was flying over Rock Canyon soon after I went into the trees and he landed at the base of the canyon to coordinate retrieval efforts. I was very reassured after I heard his voice on the radio. He and his volunteer paramedic, Brady George, had the Lifeflight helicopter take them and their gear about ½ way up where they met up with Sebastian for the 2-hour hike to me. I wrapped myself in for a long wait and managed to doze on and off until they arrived 3 hours after I had gone into the tree.
When the rescue crew arrived, the first thing they did was throw me a rope from the cliff next to the tree. I tied myself into the tree, lowered my gear down (which showed me that I was even higher than I thought), and tied another line to the risers of my wing as I unclipped from it. The wing was undamaged and draped over a limb above me with the lines slack. I then climbed up and cut the reserve bridle where it attached to my harness before Brady belayed me to the ground. It was good to be on the ground again.
Brady then climbed back up the tree to extract my wing and reserve. The reserve had actually capped the tree and was undamaged except for the lines which were cut to get it out of the tree.
After we had everything packed up we started the long hike out. Lifeflight had planned to pick us up where they had dropped off Dave and Brady, but they got called away, so we were on our own. We only had one headlamp, but we knew it was a full moon so we were not too worried. We ended up hiking down the 3,000 feet in about 2 hours—only to find a persistent local news crew waiting for us. We then headed back for the US Nationals final awards at the Point-of-the-Mountain. Len Szafaryn, the newly crowned US National Champion, gave Sebastian the new harness he had one for his courageous side-hill landing to come to my aid. It was a very generous gesture.
I am a P-4 rated pilot who has been flying for 13 years. I have nearly 1,000 flights with just shy of 1,000 hours of flying time. I have flown about 2,000 XC miles at many different sites and in many different countries. I had taken my reserve for granted and never used it. I had never unintentionally spun a wing and thought I could keep my wing under control. All of that changed very quickly. I learned a number of lessons from this experience that I want to share:
Lessons Learned:
I must have built up some good karma in a past life because I definitely made some unsafe decisions during my early days in this sport becoming more conservative with each borderline experience. I also tend to think fairly clearly during an emergency. An example of this occurred when I was taking my third day of lessons in North Boulder and flew into my first thermal. My wing went into a spin. My thought was “I don’t know what I’m doing, and this wing knows how to fly better than I do at this point,” so I put my hands up and let it do its “thing”. It just happened to be the right thing to do and 20 ft. off the ground it pulled out and I flew out and had a soft landing in the L.Z.. Both of my instructors were surprised and relieved to see me standing up and alive in the landing area.
I look for reasons not to fly. It’s easy to find many reasons why I want to fly and all too easy to ignore any danger or warning signs.
Frisco Peak in central Utah 1995. As I looked up I noticed three things that sent warning signals to my brain. Some pretty dark overdevelopment about 10 miles. S.W. of us, early and fast development directly over us and some great cycles coming straight up the mountain. It was all coming together a little too fast and too “good” for my personal comfort level. I said to my X-C buddy, “it’s too big for me, I’m not flying.” He still wanted to go and asked if I would drive for him. He launched and promptly gained over 8,000 feet. Forty minutes later he got sucked up into a towering cumulus at 2,200 ft. per minute lift. He attempted to stay out with B-line stalls and spiral dives yet still went up. He eventually managed to fly out the side of it and 20 minutes later got caught in a gust front 200 ft. over my car on the highway where I clocked him going 70 miles. per hour. Outflying the front he turned into the wind and landed going backwards at a walk. The front reached him seconds later! He is a great guy. I love flying with him and we both relearned a good lesson that day. No flight is worth putting ones life in danger.
We regularly get 1200 to 1600 ft. per min. lift at this site and it doesn’t take much of a change in conditions for it to build greater than that and for us to “be in over our heads”. All sites deserve a great deal of respect. Sites like this one deserve extra attention.
I have experienced many memorable flights and the first one I think of occurred during the summer of ’97, about 20 miles from my home in Sandy, Utah, at The Snowbird Ski Resort. I had just flown from Snowbird a few days earlier and landed in my back yard so I was eager to fly the weak high pressure system that still prevailed to see if other adventures could be gained from such conditions. That day, I was able to get to cloudbase at 16,200 ft. on my second thermal of the day. The view of the Wasatch range is rather spectacular from that vantage point. The beautiful sunny day with small to moderate cumulus clouds made the close-up view of these clouds seem friendly and stunningly awesome! The cloudbase over Park City, a few miles away, was at 13,900 ft. therefore I was able to fly above some of the clouds for a while. Watching the top of the clouds as they rolled and reshaped themselves, was an “other” worldly view I will always remember. To travel up to the cloudworld at cloudbase helps me to temporarily remove myself from Terra Firma. This is one of the parts of this sport I enjoy the most.
First of all take your time with your progression in this sport and with your fly/no fly decisions. If you decide not to fly then there will be another day to fly. If you decide to fly when it is questionable FOR YOU then it may be your last flight either from injury or scaring yourself out of the sport. Second, get good instruction for each level of your progression. Most of the accidents I have heard of or witnessed are caused by ignoring good instruction, poor instruction or no instruction (like the rash of HG pilots getting injured a few years ago on paragliders because they felt that they did not need any instruction). The most dangerous years of Hang Gliding and Paragliding were the early years when no one knew what the boundaries of the sports were. Now we know some of those limits. Take advantage of that hard earned knowledge. You may be able to get cheaper and more minimal instruction but it’s not worth putting yourself back into those dangerous early years. As an example I spoke with two pilots last fall who had just gone to Mexico for a thermal clinic because it was “cheap”. When they got there, the guide took the group to the site, pointed and said “There’s thermals out there, go get em.” That was the “clinic”. People have given their lives in learning some of the limits in this sport, you don’t need to put yours in jeopardy to relearn the same lessons.
I’d like to add a third. Don’t be too anxious to get on an advanced or competition wing. They are not for everyone. Some people think the way to progress and improve their flying ability is to get a higher performing wing. This is a safety judgment error. One should be awesome at kiting, maneuvers, thermaling and X-C before changing to a more advanced wing. I’m still not ready for one and probably never will be.
This article was written in July, 1998. Since this writing, Ken has received another Gold, Bronze and Silver Award for safety
The cycles were weak on launch but we were optimistic so I set up. I felt an urgency to get going quickly so I launched first and picked a cycle that just wasn’t working. Within two minutes I was trudging back up through the sage brush so that I could take another crack at it. I was still about 100 ft. below launch when the cycle started feeling VERY good so I laid my glider over some scrub oak and launched into a “great one”. As I passed launch on the elevator up, I yelled to my buds, “Hey, I think I found one!”
At 500 over, I was too far behind launch to go back and wait for them so I radioed that I’d meet them in Wyoming. (The next day I heard that the other paraglider pilots on launch never flew because it blew out just after I launched). Fifteen minutes later and 500 ft over the ground with my optimism deflated I radioed to the chase crew, “I may be landing near Hwy. 40 at Park City”. They answered, “ok, pick you up soon.”
I was in 600 ft. per minute sink with less than one minute to touch down when I suddenly hit a change that increased to 50 ft. per minute up for one minute. I then spent the next 12 minutes going back and forth between 600 down and 100 up, barely maintaining altitude. I thought, “This should be good if I can hang out long enough for it to build”. It did. A brief stint of 600 up to 9000 ft (3000 AGL) gave me some needed breathing room. Then 10 minutes of mostly 400 up brought me to 13,500 where I promptly got spanked hard, enduring a full frontal collapse, a 65 degree surge, and a 60% asymmetric within the space of 2 seconds. “Focus! Focus!” This took me from 1200 ft. per minute lift to 600 ft. per minute sink, (so the barograph print-out tells me). It scares the “peace” right out of me when that happens, even if there is 7000 ft. of air between me and the ground. The next half hour was spent in mostly sink, up to 700 ft per minute with small lift pockets of 200 or 300 ft..
Another 50 minutes between 9000 and 13,000 ft. took me just south of Coalville, UT where a great 10-minute thermal ride with 200 to 1620 ft per minute lift took me to my max altitude of 13,910 ft.
Later, flying almost directly over the mountains that separate 1-80 from Chaw Creek Rd. to the south, I radioed the chase crew that I was south of Coalville and losing altitude fast (800 down). At this point I was only receiving half of the chase crew’s communications (even though I had two radios) and was actually south of Evanston, Wyoming and east of the gas plant on Chaw Creek Rd.
Still going down at 150 ft over the ground, I was sending mind energy out pleading for (or at moments demanding) lift. As I “climbed” from 600 sink to 500 sink then 4, 3, 2, now hovering near “O” sink for a 1-o-n-g five minutes, the drift over the ground was taking me “where no one has gone before”. I was too low and my choices were to either take this lift or quit. “Oh well,” I thought, “I can safely land back in here. It will be a long walk out but… wait!…lift! glorious lift! Yes! Yes! Yes! Right up to 13,910 ft. How exhilarating!
“Hey, is that Coalville?” I ask myself. I look on the map that is strapped to my knee. “Let’s see, 3 exits off of I-80, …a large road that heads north, and …hmm that sure looks like Crawfords in the distance … Holy Shit! That’s Evanston, Wyoming!” I exclaim! I quickly radio the crew and say, “Hey you guys, this is Ken. I’m at 13,000 just east of Evanston, I’ll head east and try to stay near I-80”. That was the last transmission my chase crew heard. There were four pilots in the car on 1-80 just west of Evanston. They all looked at each other and said, “no way, he’s confused and hypoxic. He must be over Coalville. Let’s turn back and look for him along I-80.” So they left, never found me (of course) and went back home to Salt Lake City. Thanks buds, I appreciate the vote of confidence. For your own protection and reputations, I will refrain from naming the guilty. (smile)
South west of the intersection of 1-80 and 189 north to Kemmerer, I found a beautiful 500 up thermal that was broad and hard to miss. It was tracking directly up Hwy 189 toward Kemmerer at a great rate of speed. I spent 20 minutes in it and then I made my worst decision of the entire flight. I left this great thermal at 12,000 ft to buck the head winds trying to stay near 1-80. I could no longer reach my chase crew and my last transmission was that I would stay near I-80. I felt I should honor what I had said for their benefit. It was all-downhill from there. Tracking east I was finding thermal activity along the way but was unable to use it because it was tracking north at 20 to 30 miles per hour and by this time I was too far east of 189 and would be flying over a small road with no traffic or over a “no access” rangeland. I still believed I should be staying near I 80 so that my chase crew wouldn’t needlessly be looking for me. I even had a strong thermal wanting to drift me away from the highway as I was setting up to land. I ignored it! (silly but true) Moving backwards over the ground in a 25 mi./hour wind, it was a bit bumpy coming in and I was glad to be on the ground.
The flight was just over 3 hours, launching at 12:14 PM. and landing at 3:15 PM. 67 mi. (previous Utah records 42 mi.) averaging 22.3 mi./hour.
The treck home was almost as much of an adventure as the flight itself. Hitchhiking the 24-mi. back to Evanston took 2 1/2 hours. I waited for 1 1/2 hours for a bus that never arrived and then called a pilot friend who drove the 2 1/2 hours to pick me up. I arrived home 8 hours after landing. I hope to reverse those numbers next year flying for 8 and getting back home in 3.
I was so excited about this flight that I purchased a map in Evanston while waiting for the non-existent bus. Putting the Utah and Wyoming maps together it looked to be 85 mi. to the third exit east of Hwy. 189. When we got home my flying bud & I refigured it to be at 88 mi. I checked on the Topographical maps the next day and got 62 mi.. Calculating the distance with 8 different pilots I wrote in my log book that it should be somewhere between 62 and 90 mi.. Then I described the flight and landing area to a hangliding friend who said he had landed there a couple of years ago. Using the great circle distance method he calculated it to be 81 mi. He asked me to stop over some time and to point it out on the map for him, so he could calculate it more precisely. Unfortunately, I never got around to doing this – (mistake). I had no idea how to calculate great circle distances (which apparently takes into account the curvature of the planet) and was very happy to use my friend’s verbal calculations. I began telling people about my flight and that I had flown 81 miles!
Five months later with 3-D topographical maps, my friend calculated the flight to be 67.28 mi.. Tomorrow someone is going to tell me that a recent satellite photograph conclusively proves that the earth is flat after all and all distances must be recalculated according to the great flatness formula. Ha!
This was a great flight and I do have two regrets: Deciding to leave a great thermal and buck head winds with 2 hours more of flying time left in the day, and not getting the distance calculated more carefully right from the start. I must have been goofy on both accounts!
1995 was a good progressive cross country year for me, starting with 21 mi. (Heber), then 31 mi. (Chelan), 51 mi. Golden, BC and ending with 67 mi.. I hope we all start moving up to three digit flights next year.
]]>Though not all terms are used on a regular basis, it is still good to be “educated” in case they suddenly pop up in conversation.
“Hey Sam, did you hear Inspo was poppin yesterday? Jack went big over the back at 14. Tom was the wind dummy in boomers and had 30 wuffos (3 of them had major ground suck capabilities) gawking as he laid out his panty. Five lemmings followed him into the rodeo just before he ragged out at 2000 over. Jay skyed out about I hr. later when he cored some great cloud suck. Just before glass off we had magic air that was so good I got about the worst case of toxic flight syndrome I’ve ever had.”
WUFFO:
What you are called if you are new to the sport of Paragliding. Derived from the constant questions like ” What for you do that?” Condensed to “What for” and then to “Wa fo”, thus “Wuffo”. It’s a stretch but then so are most things in paragliding.
SOARING
Maintaining or gaining altitude for a significant period of time (this came from the fact that if one does this for more than 3 hrs. one gets very sore).
BI-WINGUAL
Any pilot who has enough time on their hands to fly both hangliders and paragliders.
GROUND SUCK
Anything that pulls your attention from the sky to the ground such as work or scantily clad good lookers standing near launch.
BOMBER
Stable, solid glider
GO BIG
A significant major altitude or distance flight.
Ju Ju
Buoyant, lifty, smooth air
BLOWN OUT
The wind is too strong to fly safely.
NUKIN
Way blown out! When you drive to launch to check the wind speed and you can’t open the car door.
TWITCHY
Nervous air
JELLYFISH, RAGS, PARAPANTIES, NYLON PYLONS:
All more or less (depending on the attitude of the speaker) endearing terms referring to Paragliders.
HANG DRIVERS, DIVER DRIVERS, LAUNCH POTATOES:
These three terms refer to hangliders, the latter one referring to those who stand at ready in the launch area for 2 or more hrs., which usually happens to be the place where the best lift is.
LAND LUBBERS, R.C’ers, R.C. PILOTS, BLIMP POACHERS:
Remote control model airplane pilots. Blimp Poacher refers to the story about one R.C.’er who inadvertently (we hope) flew too close to a passing blimp, punctured it and caused an unscheduled emergency landing.
BENCH
A somewhat flat area on the lower parts of a hill or Mt. used as a launching or landing sight.
BENCHING UP:
Launching from the bench and flying up to the top of the Mt. or hill.
BLOW BACK:
Flying in stronger wind conditions at the top of the Mt. and being blown behind into potentially dangerous conditions such as rotors, turbulence, trees, etc …
COMPRESSION:
Highest velocity of wind at top front part of hill
RIDING OR SURFING THE WAVE:
Flying playfully with the wind at its compression point.
SHADOW OR GRADIENT:
Sheltered low wind area behind an object such as behind a stand of trees where wind velocity drops.
CONVERGENCE:
2 wind patterns meeting at one point creating updrafts or wind shear.
WIND SHEAR:
2 air masses moving in different directions that meet and don’t mix but create a dangerous point where half the canopy could be in south wind and the other half in north wind, or other similarly uncomfortable and dramatic wind direction differences.
MAGIC AIR:
F U N Buoyant, comfortable wind conditions that are not always explainable. You wonder why it’s so good (unusual), like magic!
RODEO AIR:
Turbulent, rocky wind conditions. Only the craziest of the crazies fly in this air. Also called rock ‘n roll.
BOOMERS:
Great buoyant lift sought after by some, avoided by all.
BLOWN OUT:
overdeveloped conditions. Winds too strong to fly
BLUE THERMALS:
Thermals in blue sky (no clouds)
HOT SPOTS:
Ground surface areas such as black top parking lots or any surface areas that heat up and produce thermals.
CLOUD SUCK:
Updrafts produced directly beneath clouds that can suck you up into them (sometimes a sought after experience)
CLICK:
The wind velocity is at one mile, kilometer or knot per hour. “It’s up a click.”
SPECKED OUT:
Someone flying so high they have become a speck in the sky. Something over 17,999 ft.. This is definitely not legal and is therefore reported over radio as flying at 17,999 ft..
SKYED OUT:
Flying much higher than anyone else. Under 17,999 ft..
BLOWING DOWN:
Down wind conditions.
CORED IT:
Found the middle of the thermal and rode it up. This is the best spot to ride a thermal.
SWEET:
All around great flying conditions.
SOLID:
Even and steady conditions.
O.D. :
Over developed, Wind too strong to fly safely.
CHASE THE WIND:
Driving around in a vehicle from site to site looking for good flying conditions, not usually successful.
SCRATCHING:
Working to maintain flight using ridge lift close to the ground, sometimes within inches or scraping.
SLIDERS:
Flying while dragging feet along the ground
SNOW SLIDERS
Same as above, great fun in 2 ft. of powder.
AIR HOG:
Using the available air space in a way that is inconsiderate of other pilots. Also used affectionately referring to someone who spends a lot of time in the air i.e. lands long after everyone else and in the dark.
RIDGE HOG:
Inconsiderately using the air space along the ridge making it difficult (or more challenging if you like) for others to fly. Also sometimes used affectionately.
VORTICES:
Turbulent flow of air that comes off of (above and behind) neighboring “flying wings” such as other paragliders, hang gliders, airplanes and any other miscellaneous airborne particles. You can expect no vortices problems from R.C. Planes and birds, however extreme caution should be used around large flying objects.
DUSTED:
Feeling your canopy flutter or collapse from the vortices of another glider in front or below you. Spooky feeling at first, switches to being only mildly inconsiderate after you get used to it. If accompanied by laughter from the offending glider, the dusting was probably done on purpose.
SLED RIDE:
A no or low wind flight down to the bottom with no lifting conditions.
TANDUM FLIGHT:
2 people flying in one glider.
AUGER IN:
Slamming into the ground at an unsafe speed. (an automatic 10 points)
WIND DUMMY:
First person to fly at a particular site and time so others can tell if they should fly.
LEMMINGS:
Those who fly right after the wind dummy in questionable conditions
PARK:
Hanging motionless in the sky
PARKING A THERMAL:
Hanging in the middle of a thermal and riding it to it’s top.
PORPOISING:
Flying up and down in a wave-like or marine porpoise fashion.
WANGIN:
Wingover.
WINGOVER or PENDULUM:
Consecutive opposite turns at an extreme angle so that the pilot swings widely from side to side.
SHUTTLE BUNNIE:
Girl friend who drives vehicle to retrieve or deliver boy friend pilot. Sorry ladies but I haven’t heard you use any such term to refer to your guys.
TOXIC FLIGHT SYNDROME:
Flying is so good that you don’t want to land and relieve yourself thus you suffer the consequences.
BOINK:
A landing that is so hard that you bounce back up.
TOUCH AND GO:
Touching down on the ground briefly and then flying right back up again keeping the canopy inflated.
MOON WALK:
Using the lift of the canopy to take giant steps along the ground.
REVERSE LAUNCH:
Launching with back to wind and facing canopy. A little bit confusing at first.
DUDED TO SCRATCH:
A paraglider dressed in protective or combat gear from head to toe for very necessary body protection while semi-flying and skimming and scraping along the ground.
BEING A DRAG:
Getting blown back by high winds and dragged along the ground. Not usually done intentionally and happens when one attempts to launch or land in high winds or during paragliding training maneuvers. Is normally exciting and uncomfortable.
BUTT LANDING:
Landing in sitting position (sometimes done on purpose).
BUTT LAUNCH:
Launching from sitting position almost always done on purpose)
BACK LANDING:
Landing on back (hopefully always done on purpose and very gently).
BACK LAUNCH:
Launching from position of lying on back (I have never seen this done accidentally.).
RAGGED OUT:
A collapse of the canopy or airfoil, it looks like a crumpled up rag.
DOO DAH’S:
Waiting around, no wind days.
SAFETY MEETING:
Pilots choose not to fly and instead drink alcohol and stay on the ground. I don’t know why this is called a safety meeting as I have been to a few and there was no discussion of safety. Alcohol is not safe and neither is the ground. All the accidents I have seen or have heard of have happened while in contact with the ground. Even if you’re falling through the air, you don’t get hurt until you hit the ground.
DRAGONS:
Unseen dangers for pilots, such as rotors, turbulence, wind shear, etc …
GLASS OFF:
Winds become very smooth and even
SPOT ON:
Yes, exactly, very accurate.
CRANK AND BANK:
Making a very sharp turn.
SHIT AND GRIN:
super strong lift that is scary and fun at the same time.
CRANKING,
Strong wind
POPPING:
Thermal activity is edgy and abrupt
BULLET THERMALS:
Small and strong.
HOUSE THERMALS:
(Don’t get too excited. This does not mean you can go soaring in your house!) A thermal that tends to be in the same spot consistently.
BIG EARS:
Tucking the end cells or tips of the wing under by pulling down on any combination of the front lines at the ends of the canopy. Purpose: to lose altitude or increase ability to penetrate in higher winds.
COOLING BUMPS:
Mildly turbulent air caused by uneven cooling of surfaces after the sun has set.
BAG IT:
Call it a day, quit flying (pack the glider up in its bag) …
Thinking of which, it’s time to BAG UP this article. Happy, good, exciting and safe flying to all of you.
This article was written in 1995.
If you have any suggestions, corrections, additions or subtractions please
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