Eagles the real teachers at Puncak's paragliding slope
Eagles the real teachers at Puncak's paragliding slope
By Richard Watson
PUNCAK, West Java (JP): The last of the morning mist
dissipated across the valley floor, revealing the full majesty of
Gunung Salak's volcanic cone. We watched hushed and awed as a
black eagle soared and bobbed effortlessly on the day's first
thermals. Lilik, my paragliding instructor, without taking his
eyes off the creature for a second, whispered "they are our real
teachers", before shrugging his shoulders, breaking into a huge,
friendly grin and saying "now it's your turn".
I was in Lido Resort, an old Dutch colonial playground, a one-
and-a-half hour's drive south of Jakarta. Flanked by the
prominence of West Java's highest peaks, Gunung Gede to the east
and Gunung Salak to the west, lie an intricate maze of natural
lakes. Behind these is a purpose-built paragliding practice slope
and landing area. It was from here that we finally turned our
gaze away from the eagle and began our weekend's training in
earnest.
I was in the best possible hands. Lilik is Indonesia's
national paragliding champion and, together with his brother
Gendon, offers a highly professional training course. So with a
degree of beginners confidence and a lot of trepidation I secured
my harness and began to learn the rudiments of ground control.
Paragliding, although enjoying a meteoric rise in popularity,
is still a relatively young sport. Easy to learn and requiring
very little physical effort, paragliding now makes the dream of
flying attainable and affordable for many. Requiring the minimum
of equipment, only a helmet, harness and canopy, everything folds
down into a package the size of a large rucksack which can be
easily carried. The simplest and easiest form of aviation, in a
bag!
Difference
Although related to hang gliding and parachuting, paragliding
is in fact something quite different. Parachutes are designed to
descend, paragliders for free, soaring flight. The canopy is
really a wing, with a number of inflatable cells, from which the
pilot is suspended in a sitting or supine position, much like a
pendulum. Launch is from a gentle slope or ramp into a headwind,
with the glider already inflated above the pilot's head. A short
run of maybe half a dozen steps is sufficient until you are quite
literally lifted off your feet. With the aid of thermals and due
to the gliders inherent low sink rate, a pilot can stay aloft for
hours.
The harness, which acts as a seat in flight, is attached to
the canopy by a series of lines called risers. Brake cords
provide speed and directional control. Before takeoff the canopy
is laid flat open on the ground behind you. A strong pull on the
risers lifts the canopy, which must be stabilized before the
takeoff run.
Having mastered these essentials in the space of a couple of
hours, I began a series of practice jumps, or should I say
"fledgling hops", just skimming the ground. Being airborne for
the first time, if only for a few seconds, quite takes your
breath away. A rush of fear grips, holds and slowly releases you,
as your feet thankfully return to terra firma. Relief and elation
fired my whole body with an overwhelming desire to do it again
and again, and this was just the training hill! We returned the
next morning and by Sunday afternoon I could not hide my
excitement about the prospect of my first full flight the
following weekend.
Fortunately for Jakartans, high up on the Puncak pass, there
is both an excellent launch and safe landing site. We arrived
early on Saturday morning determined not to miss a minute of the
action. The industrial heat of the city had been replaced by a
cool mountain breeze and a slight chill hit me as we stepped from
the car.
Many gliders were already in the air, their bright Day-Glo
canopies elegantly dotting the sky. Others lay spread out on the
ground awaiting their turn. I watched as Lilik took off and
demonstrated his adroit flying skills for the benefit of my
camera. Using the thermals and his intricate knowledge of the
elements, he swooped low overhead, maneuvering with effortless
grace, like a gull with outstretched wings. Eventually he gently
turned away, heading down the valley to the landing site from
where he would instruct me in the final moments of my descent.
Maiden flight
Gendon secured my harness and radio, through which he would
continue to instruct me throughout my maiden flight. I checked
that my canopy and risers were free of ground obstructions and
that there was a clear path to the ramp and the oblivion beyond.
All eyes were now on me, the new boy, my heart racing, my mind
rapidly rewinding through the training procedures.
"OK Richard, NOW!" shouted Gendon. Leaning forward I heaved on
the risers and my canopy opened perfectly above me. I quickly
steadied it before the rush of adrenalin and Gendon's "RUN, RUN,
RUN" kick-started my legs and I charged towards the ramp not
knowing whether to open or close my eyes. Three strides down the
ramp my legs could kick no more, the lift created by the wind
rushing up the hillside carried me up and away. I was airborne.
Time froze, I froze. Every sinew in my body was tensed to
snapping point. This was intense. Exhilarated and scared, all
emotions juggled for position in my head. I tried to compose
myself and Gendon's reassuring voice on the radio congratulated
me on my takeoff.
The visual impact was an immediate blast of bright colors and
strange perspective. The whole of the Puncak valley was spread
before me in an immense and silent panorama. Streams looked like
tiny silver threads, people just bright dots of color and the tea
plantations a wide, undulating sea of green. Looking up, my
colorful canopy arced above my head, filling the sky. Looking
straight down, my legs dangled insignificantly above a different
world. My fear abated and euphoria took over.
I followed Gendon's radioed instructions, turning and braking,
getting the feel of controlling my wings. I was amazed at the
glider's stability and the ease with which it responded to my
controls. Pull left, turn left, pull right, turn right - it was
that simple.
Slowly floating above a miniature world of distant rooftops,
seemingly toy cars and ant-sized people, I felt like a bird of
prey playing on the airwaves. Paragliders are not built for
speed, everything follows a calm and natural pace; my flight
lasted for a full five minutes.
Lilik came into sight from among the tea bushes and, using
clear hand signals, guided me down to a safe and soft landing on
the strip in the tea plantation. He rushed to congratulate me, I
was now part of the team. "There is no going back", Lilik had
warned earlier, "you will be hooked".
Turning to see where I had just come from, I howled with
delight and punched the air in triumph. I closed my eyes and as
my smile threatened to burst my face with joy, only one thought
filled my mind: "I have got to do that again!"