A day-trip on the dark side

New Adventures!

Over a bottle of vino tinto and lots of chat planning ridiculous flying adventures I allowed myself to be persuaded that I wasn't in a position to comment on other types of flight until I'd tried them all...
...so, there I was looking on in terrified silence as the paramotor was assembled and the new, not yet been flown, never mind tried with a paramotor Vega II T was unrolled and I was clipped into a cage in front of what can only be descibed as a flying bomb.
A tank full of petrol, lots of noise, more than enough vibration and a big whorlie thing strapped on the back. Have I completely lost my senses?!
Conditions weren't totally ideal since the nil-wind anticyclonic day that was forecast turned out to be pre-frontal 1 day early - But nothing ventured, nothing gained!
Even though it was obviously thermic and fairly breezy my pilot was keen to baptise me in the chilly waters of the dark side!
After a quick 'despedida' call to Judith so that someone knew the extent of my lunacy we clipped in, Jordi did a bit of random fiddling (isn't that the way with all boys and their toys ;) ) and with a minimum of running we roared into the sunny blue sky.
After getting to grips with the straps and releases needed to put me in 'flying position' we headed out towards Corçà and the pantano, now made famous by the midnight kayaking antics of scantily clad 'womens open' pilots!
The first sensations of noise, vibration and why the hell am I spoiling a perfectly good free-flying day soon evaporated as it became clear what a paramotor is good at.
My initial thoughts were that this is the flat-cap and Volvo, Sunday driving way to go flying...no more skinny-racing-snake reacting to every bug sneeze, instead a blimp, blitzing through every bit of feedback a sunny sky can give you with all the grace of a sherman tank.
But, flying over unflyable places, skirting over the water of the lake and seeing stunning scenery that we can't normally access caused an about-turn in my feelings about these noisy, heavy menaces of the free-flying sky.

Finestres: the Catalan great wall of China!

A trip through the gorges of Canelles reservoir and over to the dam wall, watching the Griffon vultures circling alongside the cliffs as we buzzed over, seeing the rock 'fingers' close to the abandoned village of Finestres with views across the water that inspire poetic thoughts, sunken villages, mirror perfect reflections and to make it all a little more exciting, thermals!!
Its a strange sensation flying through a thermal with a motor, there is no freedom to react and on the front the yaw was very pronounced - its not the preferred conditions either, but once I had committed to the adventure, there was no way I going to be given an excuse to wimp out!
Thermals - ha!! Just do it! ;-)
After a trip round the dam and the southern slopes of the valley we headed back towards Àger town for a quick sightseeing tour of what will hopefully be my new home - nice big garden, roof needs some work though!!
Its funny how as I was looking into the valley, the trees just taking on their autumn colours and the fields all brown earth, I found I was smiling with a profound sense of heading home. A bizarre feeling given that I'm still living a nomadic life between a cabin, my car and my tent.

The final approach was probably the most 'exciting' part of the flight as we hit the predictable thermals bouncing up from Maciarol which changed the wind direction systematically through180°. It took a few low passes followed by a few high ones before Jordi was happy that we could land without drama which was exactly what we did.. 2 steps and stopped with the glider overflying to land in front. I hadn't thought of that bit before...habit makes us turn to bring the glider down behind but imagine the carnage with lines snagging the still rapidly whirling prop. But that is another story - the still rapidly whiring prop - its a good job we didn't need to stop the motor in the air for any reason! A previously repaired solder joint on the kill switch had disassembled itself in flight meaning that Jordi couldn't stop the engine. I had visions of him being propelled on foot round the landing field for another 40 minutes while the juice ran out, but unfortunately (I was looking forward to the micky-taking and photo-opportunity value of it all ) just a bit more fiddling and the world went pleasantly silent...

So the million $ question...would I do it again?
As a sport in itself - definitely not.
But as a way of travelling to places we can't safely fly or just can't reach on a 'proper' paraglider - for sure :)
Being able to make the most of the cold crisp winter days when the only thermals are the layers you need to wear, and fly high above stunning mountains, over gorges, lakes and the sea and experience life from a place no-one else does, that's whats makes paramotoring a complementary addition to free-flight.
Get that switch fixed, Sr.paramotor man, I'm waiting for a day very soon when the sky is blue and Pyrenees are snow covered for another day-trip on the dark side.