When blurry eyes peered out of the camper van window in the early hours (9am is early when your on holiday), there was nothing but blue..... a great day had arrived. After several days where the flying was fun but not spectacular, today was looking better. Russ had arranged to take a friend up on the tandem, so the ´parataxi´ was ordered for 11am.
Take off from Mount Stol near Kobarid, Slovenija, at 1pm was into nice lift, and with a bit of work I started coring a thermal that as reaching 5 m/s up at times. This was a bit radical by my standards, but I had several nice flights under my belt recently and I was feeling confident and determined. My plan was to head down the ridge to Mt Krn, and then to continue east (and down wind) toward Tolmin. At cloud base over Stol I debated with Russell over the radio about heading north into the mountains, but when I tried this I encountered a head wind, and decided to take the easy option, and go east for distance.
I jumped over the back (into wind) and onto a ridge that would take me toward Mt Krn. Getting high on this ridge was bumpy but easy, however crossing onto Krn put me into a head wind (where did that come from?) and strong sink. I retreated, gained height and tried again. The same result. A third try had me retreating yet again, and while I thought about my options I played around on the lower slopes of Krn. Hhhmmmm.....a head wind going north, and a head wind going east?? I bounced my way upwards, and decided to head north while I thought some more about my options. Both head winds weren´t too strong (about 10 km/hr) and, as everyone has kept telling me about mountain flying, its about time that I give it a go. At this point I realise the two coffees I had this morning want out, I but decide to grit my teeth and get on with flying.
I head north again, and find that there are plenty of nice thermals on the southern faces, with an easterly wind at middle altitudes (below 1800m) and a northerly above 2000m. There is no evidence of any significant valley wind, but I will keep my eyes open. With this resolve, I continue north, enjoying flying along side huge rock walls, towering peaks, and over plunging valleys with the brilliant rivers sparkling far below. This is pure magic, the faint noises drifting up from the hills include cow bells, bird calls and sheep…
There is a rough layer as the thermals pass through the wind shear, but I am feeling good, and with such steep mountains, I have plenty of air under me. I have a choice of two valleys to follow, and decide on the Trenta, it will be an easier retrieve and Russell had talked about heading this way too. I look about for other gliders, but I am alone. Far below I recognise the road starting to wind up the Vrsic pass, and get excited about possibly making it to Kranjska Gora.
Approaching the pass, I hear a helicopter, and eventually spot it, working from the top of the pass, and heading out of sight around the corner. I check my watch to see how long his return trip is, but my watch has stopped with the cold. Cold. Hmmm…yeah, my fingers are getting a bit numb, especially the two little ones. I estimate the helicopters return time, and conclude that to pass it safely, I must fly over it. This could be a problem as we are both at similar altitudes.
My glider surges, goes soggy for a minute, and then sinks alarmingly. Something big is right beside me. Im not a big-boy paraglider pilot, but hey, today´s my day, I get brave and turn back into it. I encounter a few seconds of sink, and then I am hauled upwards…the harness stitching groans and creaks…my heart races, the vario starts singing, then screaming… 5m/s…wahooooo…6m/s…yeehaaaa…6.5m/s......wwow…my fastest up yet…7m/s.......my grin is huge…7.5m/s.....the vario is having a hernia…8m/s........my grin becomes rather plastered to my face…8.5m/s…ok, now Im too scared to leave…(what goes up goes down)…9.m/s…F*§&....... the mountain is literally falling away beneath me… my vario peaks at 9.2m/s, and I continue upwards at between 7 and 9m/s. I eventually fall out of the core a few hundred meters below cloud base at more than 3,200m. Turning north I remember the helicopter, but he is now more than a thousand meters below me, a speck not even worth thinking about. I am on top of the world, in both mind and body. The mountains of the Triglav national park are spread out below me and the sky is my limit. From here I feel that I can glide forever. This is every dream of flying come true......
I realise that my hands are now numb – I have no feeling at all in my fingers, and that coffee is getting really impatient. On the glide north I start exercising my right hand. The feeling starts to return, and with it the pain. OOohhh..... it aches. I keep exercising it till it seems to work normally, and am about to start on my left hand when I encounter my next thermal. Grabbing my break again, I thermal left, so that I can watch my left hand. Its bizzare not being able to feel any feedback from the break-line, and I am fearful that I will drop the break handle without realising. I try to snap a few photos but its just a matter of pointing the camera and hoping.....
Kranjska Gora slides beneath me, and I am determined to beat both the coffee and the cold. How often have I mentally chastised pilots for landing becasuse they were cold – such pussies… now I know what they really felt…next time I´ll be more sympathetic.....
There is a small mountain range in front of me, and beyond that I believe is Italy. I manage to defrost both hands now, but have yet to deal with the coffee. I find one last thermal, and glide out to land by the lake in front, finally beaten by the coffee......
A man uses his child as an excuse to wander over and talk to me. I ask him the two most important questions… What country am I in ? he looks confused and replies: Austria. AUSTRIA? Fuck......(excuse my french). ´Ja,´ he says, ´Faak Am See.´ – this turns out to be the name of the village. ´Wo ist der toilette?´ (the only german I know, but very handy) and I run off, leaving him to guard my paraglider where it lies…
I hitch to the nearest town of Villach and get a message to Russel that I will be back late tonight or tomorrow. Unable to get any further rides before dark, I get frustrated. I decided that if no one will give me a ride back to Slovenia, then I will bloody well walk to the top of a hill and fly back.
The nearest hill is about 5 km away, and its about 10pm when I reach the bottom. I call in at a pub and get a cheese sandwich and 2 glasses of water. They sell me a map of the area which shows the hills being about 2000ft. I figure I can walk that tonight and fly off in the morning.
The climb is a bit of a mission, but I´m accompanied by fire flies, moon is bright, and hey, I´ve just had the greatest flight… By midnight I´m pretty knackered. No lunch, no real dinner, and a lack of water is starting to catch up with me. I pull out my survival bag, eat chewing gum for dinner, and curl up on my paraglider. Two hours later I´m awake and freezing.
By 4:30 there is enough light for me to continue upwards and, eating the last of my chewing gum for breakfast, I head off. No fire flies now, but the birds are singing and the day looks fine. While climbing I fantasize about bacon and eggs. I spot deer tracks…yumm…and then boot tracks following them…hey… Heidi is out getting me fresh Bambi for brekkie… Around every corner I look for Heidi waiting for me, fresh meat still sizzling…but around every corner nothing…B#@ch!
Reaching the ridge top at 8am, I find a lovely take off site, nicely facing lee side. I wait until 11:30 in the hope that lee side thermals will let let me get away, but eventually realise that I will have to walk to the peak – the only visable take off. By 12:45 I´ve seen my first wild snake (4 inches long, with a nasty wee attitude) I set up in a small bowl 5 meters below the peak, and launch into a nice cycle.
As I head back over the border into Slovenia the cumulus threaten to become cumulonimbus, and I race southwards to where they look smaller and friendlier. I scratch up over the Vrsic pass and back into the Trenta valley. Here I run into valley wind and rotor, a little bit bumpy, and lots of sink. I battle on for several km´s before landing at the village of Trenta, and hitch back to Kobarid.
I´m tired, hungry, and thirsty, my finger joints ache from the freezing, and I have two huge blisters, but I am the happiest pilot in Europe! I have flown only 49km´s out, and about 30 back, but it was an adventure! and it was fun!
P.S. The heights on maps are in meters, not feet. I was right, it was a F&*#ing big hill. No wonder it took all night. 8)