Dominican - Feb. 5, '07

The next morning, the pilots all got a briefing from Mr. Jocky Sanderson himself at launch, about the site (Casabito) we were to fly at, and what we could expect. It was quite foreign seeing so many people and gliders sharing the same chunk of space, but exciting too. Soon, people were launching, and I felt it was my time to go. So I launched, and naively started my first paragliding flight in the Dominican.

I made a few passes in front of launch, and as I got lower, I headed towards a ridge to the left of launch. I played around there for a while, and thought there was more lift there than there actually was. Looking back, I didn’t really know what I was doing, and just kind of assumed things would be fine, and I would make it to the main LZ without a problem.

I soon realized that I was getting low, and I had to fly out into the valley and clear a “finger” in front, if I was to have any chance of making the landing zone. As I flew towards the finger, the wind increased, my penetration level fell, and I was mostly encountering sink. I think both a couple of the Canadian pilots and Jocky told me on the radio to turn around to the bum out field, and land there.

Reluctantly, I did so, and landed safely…I lost my footing upon landing, and hit my left knee again. I swear, my right knee always gets away scot-free, while my left knee has taking a beating from biking many times, on top of a car accident which is where my knee problems all started.

Anyway, a few seconds later, I saw a glider coming in to land very, very low above the trees. Sure enough, the glider was in the trees, and the pilot was in a tangled mess of nylon and branches. I yelled repeatedly “are you okay” to no response, so I hobbled over as quickly as possible to investigate.

The pilot, a French man, then replied he was fine, and we spent the next while getting his glider out of the trees. There didn’t seem to be any damage, and he was fine. Over the next few minutes, there were about 4 other pilots who decided to join us in the same field.

The French pilot and I decided to walk together to get out of the bum-out field, which was apparently an 1.5 hour hike or so. I started walking with my glider on my back, and my knee starting feeling “soft” and giving me terrible pain. I walked at a slow pace, as the French guy (I’ll call him Jacques, as his name is hard to pronounce) and an American (Chris) went a bit ahead. Jacques came back for me, and then as I was descending a steep part, my knee just gave out. I felt so pathetically helpless sitting there…it was embarrassing that I hit my knee on the first flight of the comp, and now I could barely walk.

I’ll admit that being female in a male-dominated sport, tends to make me feel like I have to prove myself to the guys around me. I know it’s silly, but you just want to kick-ass so much more to prove yourself and your sex. Ok, I’ll admit that sometimes when you act more helpless than you really are, guys do things like carry your glider without you asking, or just generally assist you in whatever you need, and as a female, you can use this to your advantage. But being stuck in the bum-out field, and with a swollen knee, this was not a time where I felt I needed to do this. Hell, my thoughts were more like “please god, just get me out of here!” Jacques, being the kind soul he was, took my glider on his back, and put his own on his chest. And that’s how we continued our hike. I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am to him for doing that without asking. I think many paragliding pilots really are the cream of the altruistic crop – he was one of them that day.

We soon met up with Chris, and some Red Cross workers who we thought said a paraglider got in an accident in the bum-out field, and needed to be rescued. Jacques and the Red Cross workers, went back to the field, while Chris and I stayed behind. When they returned empty-handed (we later found out the workers were dispatched to help us out, not anyone else), we started heading out (me, with hiking stick in hand), of the jungle towards civilization.

The next 4 hours of my life were hell on earth. No wait, a humid, hot, mosquito infested, exhausting, frustrating, painful Hades of the Dominican. Long story short, the Red Cross workers had no idea how to get out of the jungle, and thought it would be wise to hike straight up to where launch was. Important lesson of the day: just because someone is dressed in uniform, doesn’t mean they know more than you do. That being said, the people who walked up with us were extremely gracious, and never intended on leading us the way they did. They meant well.

The workers led us straight up the mountain, battling the way through thick shrubbery using a machete, in the most positively difficult route out of the valley. It was an experience I will never forget, and would never wish upon anyone. One of the workers carried my glider the entire way which was really nice. And the kids who were with the workers were constantly wanting me to hold their hands as they pulled me up along. How they did this hike in flip-flops is amazing, and completely beyond me.

We all survived though, and maybe we’re all better people for it. When we returned to the hotel and to civilization, I was just happy to be out of the jungle and know that life would go on. I vowed from the second I got out of there, that that was the first and last time I would land in the bum-out field…even if second time around I knew following the river would be easy, even if there was now a path to launch!