My flight the first day gave me a true taste of the greatness Bir produces in the form of large columns of hot, rising air we call thermals. They are everywhere, they are huge and they go up like a freight train. I toured the area to get the lay of the land and then the lack of sleep caught up with me, I was done, it was time to land.
Saturday turned out to be a tricky day. I awoke to a cloudy sky, not conducive of creating those poppin' thermals of the day before. The funny thing is it switched back and forth between clouds and sun all day, as soon as it looked good it would close out with clouds again. But I had the itch to fly, I only had 3 days. I convinced a few Frenchies I met in Pokhara that we should do it. We cruised up in a taxi to find that 3/4 of the way old Mother Nature had something other than flying on her mind. Rain began to fall, when we arrived the rain turned to rain/sleet/snow/lighting/thunder. We where shut out. We tried to be patient over chai and conversation with a group of Hungarian pilots. But in the end the cold wind and muddy ground hastened our retreat.
Sunday, oh Sunday, what a funday. Easter turned out to be a day to remember. The beautiful thing about a sport like paragliding is it's a sport of firsts and personal records. On Sunday it was time to head back Mussoorie way, but not without taking advantage of the wonderful day that it was promising to be. One thing I did know was that I needed to be on a bus by evening to make it back at a reasonable hour Monday. I had a few options but the best one was a luxury bus leaving Dharamsala at 5:30 pm. So I needed to get to D'Sala. I thought to myself why take a 3hour, uncomfortable local bus ride there when the possibilities of flying the 50 or so kilometers there was a definite possibility on a day like this. I motioned my plans to my new found flying friends and they thought is was a great idea. So we headed up, I loaded and launched about noon. The conditions this day would not let me down (literally) once. The mountains here are not only beautiful, snowcapped and high; but hey are perfectly suited for flying. The views of, glaciers, snowfields, and peaks enveloped in billowing white couds are beyond description. Hindu and Buddhist temples dot many of the thermal producing apexes along the beautiful ridgelines. The scenery was outstanding. I climbed out and started making my transitions from ridge to ridge. Tanking up on altitude where it was possible and gliding to the next ridge. Upon reaching a larger prominent ridge called the Big Face I ran into the only sticky spot all flight. I had flown too far back into a large bowl, but to get around the Big Face I needed to be further into the valley. As I tried to penetrate further out the winds got a little tricky and started to get turbulent and a bit sinky. I wasn't worried yet, but it wasn't the greatest situation. However, before things got critical I started a nice powerful climb back up to 10,000 feet, well above the Big Face. After this is was a pretty easy flight. Thermal up to 10,000 feet and transition to the next ridge. Hopping ridge to ridge all the way to Dharamsala 50 km away. It was cold up there and my hands were frozen, that is why there is such a lack of pictures, I couldn't feel the camera. What a flight, a first in many regards. Here are some picks after I got feeling back in my hands.
I landed in a small fair grounds in lower Dharamsala at 2:30 pm. There was a small fair going on where I landed and amazed Indian tourists poured out of the tents to take a look at this white guy that just fell out of the sky. Lots of questions, lots of pictures, too much trampling on my glider lines, and I was packed up eating a nice Rajasthani lunch, like the guest of honor.
Thanks for listening to my long winded and maybe slightly confusing tale of the best flight I have experienced in my short flying career, I can't wait for more just like it.
