Flying High Down Under

The drop-off is steep; too steep, I think, for my first solo launch. I'm the second of nine nervous paragliding students to launch this morning from Mt. Mystic, and we've just gotten word over the walkie-talkies strapped to our racing hearts that the first student who launched just minutes ago came in for "a bit of an ordinary" landing and has broken his left ankle.

I'm next in the launch order.

Brian, our cool-as-ice instructor, acts as if nothing has happened. He walks down the launch site in front of us, raises his arms to his side and pivots on his feet like a weather vain, checking wind direction. There's a cool, steady south-easterly blowing up the pine-clad valley. Brian comes up to me, grinning. "Beautiful day, ay?!"

Before the broken ankle incident, I might have been swayed to notice. Not now. All I can think of is how much I prefer the safety of being a spectator to this.

He checks the squelch on my radio, his eyes never leaving mine. "Run through your checks. Make sure your lines are not tangled - that could get messy. Oh, and have a nice flight! Whenever you're ready..." he winks as he steps well aside.

Okay then: leg, chest and shoulder harness buckles; helmet and radio; risers (the lines) and brake handles secured in my outstretched hands; nose into the wind (I'm getting too old for this); aaannnd - GO, GO, GO! I start running forward, but almost immediately, the inflating and rising glider behind me puts up an intimidating resistance.

For a moment there, I feel like one of those Hercules-types who pull buses with their teeth. From somewhere in the distance, I hear Brian shouting: "Let go of the risers and grab the brakes, lean forward. PULL!"

And then it happens. It's a gradual relief as my momentum overpowers the glider's. It rises like a kite overhead and transforms its energy from resistance to glide. Two, maybe three more steps, and I'm running in thin air - I'm flying. The paraglider settles into a calm glide while I scooch back into my harness seat. The radio squawks to life. "Nice launch, Erik. Enjoy the ride...!"

I'm in the Australian Alps, or at least in the scenic foothills on the Victorian side. Paragliders from all over descend on the picturesque tourist town of Bright every year around Easter for some of the best flying conditions in the whole country.