Most Viewed Stories
Paragliding: Hangin' with the birds
When winds are just right, local paragliders take the easy way down
Somewhere along the way, the dream of flight that humans harbored for centuries hit some turbulence and became the shoe-removing, seat-squeezing, carry-on-stuffing, recirculating-air and peanut-packet song and dance of modern airlines. But on a breezy mountaintop above Monument, the dream of silently lofting into thin air like a hawk and watching your toes soar above the treetops is kept alive by a small flock of paragliders.
"It's one of the most amazing feelings ever," Mike Teger, a glider pilot from Colorado Springs, said recently. "What kid doesn't dream of flying? And this is really flying. It's just you and the birds up there, right next to each other, riding the same air."
Teger was trudging up the path to Mount Herman just after sunrise with seven other paraglider pilots to take advantage of a clear, calm morning. The delicate gliders thrive on light winds, blue skies, and warm air gently rising from the ground.
"Today looks like it will be perfect," Teger said.
But before unfurling their wings, the pilots had to climb a mountain. In many parts of the country, paragliders drive to their launch point - whether a mountain overlook or a high dune by the coast. In the Pikes Peak region, they have two launch sites, on Mount Herman and above Section 16. Both require a steep, mile-plus hike hauling a bulging, 50-pound backpack.
"The packs seem big, but not when you consider they hold an entire aircraft," Teger said.
A paraglider is essentially a souped-up parachute - a broad swath of nylon tethered to a single pilot by dozens of thin cords.
But while parachutes are designed to slow falls, paragliders are designed to fly. The nylon is shaped like a wing, and once inflated by the wind, it can catch thermals, rising columns of warm air, and stay aloft for hours.
In the world of aeronautics, the paraglider is the cheapest and easiest option. A full setup costs about $5,000 new and pilots can learn the basics of flying in a few days.
Because takeoffs and landings tend to be gentle, local pilots say anyone with a knowledge of wind currents and a reasonable tolerance of heights can do it.
The sport evolved not from skydiving but from mountaineering. In 1978, three French climbers and skydivers in the Alps successfully launched by running down a grassy slope. They glided all the way to a soccer field 1,000 meters, or about 3,281 feet, below. Climbers in the Alps began using the chutes as a fun and easy way to go down.
"That's how I came to the sport," said Teger as he reached the summit and plopped down his bag. "I already loved hiking. I loved climbing mountains. This seemed like an exciting thing to add to it."
He's launched off local mountains dozens of times, and even tried to fly from a few fourteeners. (The wind was never right.)
The sport has evolved. Wings have become more safe and stable. Pocket-size electronics have made navigating and communicating a breeze.
Popularity has boomed around the world. France has 60,000 registered pilots, said Martin Palmaz, spokesman for the U.S. Hang Gliding and Paragliding Association, based in Colorado Springs.
But the sport has never really gotten off the ground in the United States.
"We only have about 5,000 registered paragliders (in the United States), even though it's a much bigger country" Palmaz said.
Aside from a few hot spots on the West Coast, and outside Salt Lake City and Denver, many people will never see a paraglider.
"It will never be huge. I just think there are too many other things competing for people's time," said the paragliding association's executive director, Paul Montville.
Plus, he said, many people see it as unsafe.
The fatality rate of the past 15 years of one per 1,000, according to the paragliding association, is relatively high when compared with other sports. (The rate for downhill skiing is one per 350,000.) But the rate has dropped some lately, because of better training and equipment. Colorado Springs had one minor accident in recent years.
But Montville said he sees room for growth as extreme-sport addicted Generation Xers notice the pain in their aching joints.
"Paragliding is great for that," he said. "You get the rush without the impact."
Despite its extreme image, paragliding can be a fairly placid sport.
"It's like skiing or mountain biking or any other sport," Teger said. "You can do it at a level where it is dangerous, or you can do it at a level where it is safe and fun."
It's a beautiful thing to see a paraglider go from a heavy, clumsy backpack to a wing in flight - as surprising as seeing a monarch butterfly emerge from a stubby brown cocoon.
Pilots pull a limp and wrinkled 15-pound crescent of nylon from a pack and lay it out flat on the ground. They make sure the cords connecting to the wing are straight. They slip on wind-proof flight suits because a good flight can reach more than 14,000 feet, and it's chilly up there.
They strap into comfy, chair-shape harnesses, and attach GPS units to track their routes and variometers to let them know when they are rising in a thermal.
Setup time is about 10 minutes.
Then they wait for the conditions to be just right.
And they wait.
"A big part of this sport is standing around. We call it para-waiting," Teger said.
They stood on the edge of the mountain for about 15 minutes, chatting about home-brew and preschool sign-up and all the other things friends chat about when happily loitering in a beautiful spot.
The sun on the rooftops below began to warm the earth. The first whiffs of rising thermals brushed over the summit. Two nearby turkey vultures took flight, turning and turning in a widening gyre without moving a feather.
It was time.
One at time, the pilots gave a quick tug on their strings. The breeze lifted their wings into the air.
They took a few quick strides down a grassy slope and were airborne.
A skilled and lucky flier can ride the thermals for hours. The state-record flight started on Lookout Mountain above Golden and ended that evening in Cañon City.
Teger stayed up for more than an hour, leaning and tugging on strings to turn, relaxing to fly straight, finally coming in for a gentle touchdown in a grassy meadow below.
"Whenever you're about to take off, I don't care who you are, you're always nervous," he said as he pulled off his helmet. "But as soon as you're in the air, everything is good. To launch an aircraft by foot, and be up there in the silence, with just the wind through the strings and the hawks looking you in the eye ... it's beautiful."
-
Contact the writer: 636-0223 or dave.philipps@gazette.com
DETAILS
Colorado has a handful of schools where new pilots can learn on safe, grassy hills. If you just want to try it, take a tandem ride with an experienced pilot.
Parasoft Paragliding School, Boulder
One-day intro tandem class: $100 www.parasoftparagliding.com
Peak to Peak Paragliding, Boulder
Two-day intro class: $325 www.peaktopeakparagliding.com
Fly Away Paragliding, Golden
Two-day intro class: $325 www.flyawayparagliding.com




