Speedgliding - The Extreme Sport for the New Millenium

They call it "Flail and Bail". It is the hasty evacuation of hang gliders from a bad situation as quickly, and safely, as possible.

It was appropriately ominous considering the circumstances. The world's10 best hang gliders had come to Mt. Kinabalu, in the Malaysian state of Sabah, Borneo, to do the unheard of - launch themselves into the turbulent, rarified atmosphere from her 4,000 meter peak.
The goal? To dive kamekazi-like to the landing zone somewhere down there below the clouds. The competition had quickly taken on the air of simply making it as being a victory (choppers were on standby to ferry the 'losers' to the nearest hospital, should such a scenario arise...).

This giant monolith, crowned by jagged toothlike granite spires, dominates the landscape for hundreds of kms. around. The nearest 'mountain' cowers at just half its towering presence. To the local Kadazan tribe, it holds a mystical power. Modern airlines steer clear of its presence because of the volatile microclimate it stews.

And now the weather was turning mean. All the pilots were rigged up and fastened into their harnesses, grimly surveying the angry swirls of clouds scraping the barren summit, clawing at the glider wings, trying to flip them.

Dennis, the American leader of this elite group of flyers, was lying on his belly, looking over the edge of the daunting precipice - their launch site. From here, it was 2 km straight down. Once launched, these experienced gliders would reach an abrupt point-of-no-return. Now it would be up to them to do battle with the elements, one on one.

Suddenly, a gap cleared in the thick, cold fog; clear enough to see the tropical golf course they had chosen as a landing site, some 2,000 meters below.

The sheer drop, combined with the way the high altitude was affecting everyone, was enough to skew one's depth-perception. It was dizzying. But Dennis knew that if he didn't let his impatient flyers go now, it was only going to get worse. "GO! GO! GO!"

Less than 10 minutes later, the pilots are back on terra familiaris, wandering around their parked gliders on Fairway 13, giving each other hugs and hi-fives, and trying to shake the last bit of adrenaline from their limbs. Reports of having been buffeted by unpredictable wind 'blasts' and having flown at speeds exceeding 100kph fill the air.

For this special breed of glider pilots, it's just another day at the office.

Walking among the jubilant spectators and pilots quietly taking notes of what he hears is Murray Rose, the father of 'speedgliding'. He looks like Sean Connery. But when conversation shifts to his version of hang gliding, this self-taught 'aeronaut' flares up with the intense excitement of someone who has just struck gold.

And, in a sense, he has.