Paragliding Perplexion

I have a confession to make: I am a puzzle nut. I've loved puzzles since I was a child, and have continued to do them over the years; jigsaws, 3D, crosswords, jumbles, (sometimes) logic, sudoku - almost anything that looks solvable.

Naturally then, I decided it was time to make my own. Out of boredom one day around Christmas I did, and today decided it was time to share it with the world. It's kind of a combination of a crossword and word search...hopefully there aren't any errors!

So, at the MAJOR risk of looking like an absolutley nerdish, paragliding-obsessed lunatic, here are the urls:

PARAGLIDING PERPLEXION - puzzle - download here (.pdf)
PARAGLIDING PERPLEXION - answers - download here (.pdf)

Enjoy!

Bead Lady

Coming back from vacation sucks!

When I came back from my trip, I updated my blog immediately as everything was fresh in my mind...it took me HOURS! Yes, I will admit that I am a dork who likes to blog. Anyway, after my masterpiece was complete, I vowed to work on business the next morning. I guess I couldn't escape the wrath of Murphy as the next day, my computer didn't work! It wouldn't boot up properly, and kept getting stuck on a system file when I'd boot it in safe mode. Anyway, long story short, I still haven't pinpointed the problem, but with Brad's help, my computer seems to be working again... I still have to reload pretty much everything onto it though. :(

So that was a sucky surprise! Add to that the fact I have a pinched nerve that seems to be going absolutely haywire. I worked two shifts at the casino, and well, I guess a 3 week work hiatus isn't enough to help a repetitive stress injury. My shoulder twitched at night before I went on my trip, and now after returning to work, my entire arm has gone numb and my shoulder aches and twitches constantly. Oh joy. Yes, I will be seeing a doctor on Monday about this one.

Aaah, my life is always full of excitement, it really is. LOL, it's kind of funny how I make all these fantastic plans for the future (whether that be a few hours from now, or a couple months), and it's as if some onlooker deprived of entertainment throws a monkey-wrench into the picture, and things change. Perhaps I somehow invite it? I do have a short attention span you kn--

It's all good though - I really am looking forward to some unknown adventures over the coming months. It looks like my casino days will come to an end if my health is being put at risk, so I suppose I'll have to start thinking about some alternatives. And no, they do not include a 9 to 5 job. Ha ha, actually, my sister told me the other day how she doesn't think I'll ever hold a typical job anymore, and that I'll be selling beads when I'm 80!

So yes, let the games begin.

Dominican - Feb. 16, '07

Jens had to leave for the airport early that morning, but not before we all got in one last sled ride at Casibito. It was funny how we all landed and were disappointed in our short flying time. We all wanted to have a killer last flying day.

When I landed, just short of the landing field, some of the local guys greeted me (ones who I recognized from previous flights), but one guy who I didn’t recognize had a paragliding shirt on, and professed he was a pilot when I inquired about his shirt.

As his knowledge of English was more limited than my knowledge of Spanish, we had a very difficult time communicating, but I got my message across, which was for him to meet us at the local roadside bar.

After taking a motorcycle from the field I landed in to the bar, Franz (his name was close to this), showed up a few minutes later. He didn’t think that Casibito would be very flyable later in the day (he figured it would be more like the previous day’s wild-ride), and said he would take us to Jarabacoa.

We dropped Jens off at the bus station in Bonao, and off we went. We didn’t end up going to the Jarabacoa site, instead we headed towards the Las Palmas area, which was where we passed through the previous day.

After meeting up with a friend of his, we took the truck up to launch. Launch was atop a ridge where the wealthy folk resided. We got through a guarded gate, and found a nice, grassy launch in the backyard of a very healthy-sized home.


We set up the gliders, and after Deryk and Bruce launched, I was off. It was definitely my best launch of the trip – so smooth. Anyway, Deryk and Bruce were ridge soaring, and I made my attempt to do the same.

I’m not sure if I launched in a sinky cycle, or if I just wasn’t working what was there as efficiently as I could, but I started going down pretty quickly. I then headed towards where I thought the LZ was, and was getting lower and lower as I did so.

The main LZ was supposed to be right around the corner of the ridge, but between that and ridge was a farm with a hill on the far side of it. As I headed towards the hill, I realized my fun was over, and I had to land. I landed fine, but somewhat angry that I couldn’t reenact the previous day’s flight. I felt crappy too for having the guys now have to worry about where I was, and do a special retrieve just for me.

Bruce and Deryk flew by and headed towards the LZ, while Oscar seemed to be intentionally losing height, and was soon on his landing approach….here’s where things get interesting.

Oscar had a pretty good glide on his final, and flew pretty much right past me, down the hill towards a herd of cattle munching on the grass below. As he was coming in to land, I couldn’t help laughing hysterically, as every single one of the cows turned their heads in tune with where Oscar’s glider went.

I was about to whip out the camera when I noticed that one of the cows was actually a bull, and started walking towards Oscar, who had now landed and who’s back was now to the herd. The bull then started kicking his hind legs, and moving his head side to side, while heading towards him. I immediately grabbed the radio and told Oscar to turn around. I repeated myself again, but Oscar didn’t seem to be responding. I then realized my radio wasn’t transmitting properly, so I yelled desperately, “Oscar, turn around!!!” With his glider bunched up in his hand, Oscar turned around, and the bull came to a halt. Oscar kinda shook his glider at the beast, and it backed off. Oscar, seemingly unphazed by the entire incident, then walked up towards I was and folded his glider.


Holy shit, watching an angry bull sneak up behind one of your buddies is not something I want to experience again! I remember standing there thinking what Oscar had done to deserve being attacked by a bull, when he landed in the same field as I out of kindness!

Thankfully though, it all worked out fine, and after walking together out of the field with the bull carefully watching, we got out of there without incident. Franz and his friend met us in the field as we were on our way out, and offered to carry my glider to which I, of course, willingly agreed.


And that concludes paragliding in the Dominican…

Dominican - Feb. 15, '07

I’m pretty sure that when we awoke this day, it was very windy, and Oscar, Bruce and I decided it could be a good opportunity to check out the launch at Jarabacoa, a nearby town. Jens and Deryk stayed behind to catch up on a few things.

The three of us headed to Jarabacoa, had no idea where we were going, so we stopped a motoconche (motorcycle dude) and asked him where launch was. This guy clearly had no idea either, but instead, kept asking people along the way which way it was.

We finally arrived, and scouted the place. The launch was kind of tricky as launch was kind of low compared to the clearing you had to clear with your glider in order to properly take off. The clearing below main launch was unlaunchable because of the shrubbery that sloped towards it, and because of a dyke-like mound of dirt that encircled it.

The wind was pretty cross, and neither of us seemed to keen on experimenting with the site. Instead, Bruce and Oscar fixed Oscar’s broken speedbar, while I gladly supervised.

We headed back to our main launch at Casabito, but not before taking a major detour through the mountains on a road that rattled all of your internal organs. It was pretty intense, and I sat in the back, I was relieved once we were on asphalt again.

During our rickety ride however, we saw some beautiful scenery, and passed through some pretty charming mountain towns. If you want to forget about time all together, move to a place just like that.

We then passed through an area around Las Palmas, which appropriately was embellished by clusters of palm trees. It was amazingly beautiful, and the landscape was much different from what we were used to in the other places we spent time at in the Dominican.

We somehow got lucky and ended up back to launch, where Deryk gave us the day’s report on the wind. Unfortunately for him, the conditions were a bit rodeo, and he was glad when his flight was over. We were happy to take good advice, and headed for the hotel for a siesta.

We all returned to launch a few hours later, and decided it was safely flyable. Jens and Deryk launched and had a little flight, when Oscar and I flew out, and encountered some really fun ridge lift along one of the fingers to the left of the river.

This flight was super-fun; it was so awesome to play in the thermals and ridge lift, and just muck around in the air up there. I felt adventurous, and while mentally replaying some of the advice Jocky and my fellow Canuckian pilots gave me earlier, went to spots around the ridge I normally would not have.

It was a fantastic flight – one I suppose I wish I had during the competition, but I was just glad to have it then and there. As the sun was setting, the lift lightened, and after 40 minutes, I landed in the valley.

As it was our last night all together, we headed to Bonao and checked out a local club. I wasn’t about to have a repeat of the previous week’s merigue night, so I pretty much stayed put, drinking lightly, and cringing at some of the local’s debauched dance moves. There’s no way what they were doing would be legal in a Canadian dance club.

Well, who am I to judge. Half of us called it a night after the club closed at the surprisingly early hour of midnight, and made our way back to the hotel, hoping for good flying the next day.

Dominican - Feb. 14, '07

Bright and early we awoke on Valentine’s Day to make our way back to Bonao. The 3 hour drive went by quickly, and after making a pit stop at a place that sold chocolate, we drove straight up to the launch at Casabito!

Conditions looked good when we got there – very good. I think Deryk was the wind dummy again, and soon we were all in the air.

This was probably my best flight of the trip; I ended up ridge soaring in front of launch, playing around with the abundant thermals that kept popping up everywhere. I made it about 400 feet above launch, but I guess because launch itself sloped steeply, it never did seem that high.

I found some really sweet lift towards the far side of launch, where the ridge sat. I knew there was a rotor there, so I kept clear, but made the most of the first-rate thermal I was in. Soon, the lift around launch faded, and I headed out into the valley.

Oscar and I flew out together, and tried finding lift around a house with a pool atop a nice hilltop. Unfortunately I was sinking, and headed towards the fields.

There was a fire burning nearby (but not dangerously close) to where I wanted to land. The air was buoyant around it, but the thought of flying right into it didn’t ever cross my mind. I’m not really sure why…maybe because I was more fixated on landing, or perhaps I thought flying around the smoke was adequate, versus going right through it. Anyway, I ended up circling and S-turning up and down along my landing spot, until I landed successfully upwind.

A little mass of kids and a local farmer greeted me and immediately started helping me pack up my glider. The people in the Dominican are really gracious that way.


Oscar extended his flight by another 15 minutes or so, by flying through the smoke and getting some really decent height. He probably could have turned back towards the mountains and join Deryk who seemed to be doing especially well, but instead, opted to land by me. I estimate my flight time to be about an hour in total – not too shabby!


Jens landed too, and we all took motorcycles back up to launch to get one last flight of the day.

The wind had died by then, and after some of the guys flew out and made it to the main LZ with plenty of height and without turning, we figured I could make it too with my sinky glider.

I launched, and pretty much flew the entire way without any brake. It was a sweet, sweet flight. I just kinda sat there pretty much maintaining a constant height, and admired the scenery, weight-shifting here and there to keep a good heading. At one point I kinda laughed out loud and yelled “how cool is this?!” That flight, regardless of its simplicity, is precisely why I choose to fly.

We then all headed to the bar, and afterwards to a nice fancy restaurant for dinner. It was a very sweet Valentine’s Day indeed.

Dominican - Feb. 12 & 13, '07

My memories of these two days are really sketchy, and as we didn’t fly, I guess I don’t consider them that important – I’m pretty sure this is the correct chain of events:

On the 11^th we went to check out a new site, Azua, but it was completely blown out. There were two pilots who did end up launching, but it was definitely an experts-only kind of day. We later found out that they traveled significant distances, but the air was really ratty.

We then went to check out La Playita again, but it was blown out there too. We spent some time at the beach a bit, and called it a night.

The next day we headed off to a new launch site, Las Aguitas. The Brits were ahead of us that day, and we could see them already sitting up at launch. It was very windy where we were down below, and Oscar and I figured it would be blown out all day. The rest of the guys seemed keen on getting the mule ride up to launch anyway, so off they went.

I made a new companion immediately who liked to call me Jessica – what a cutie! I couldn’t understand a word the kid was saying, but he didn’t seem to mind as he just kept talking and talking in Spanish.

Oscar and I headed back to town where we used the internet, and where I went to a really nice clothing store. I didn’t end up buying anything, to my disappointment. It was one of those instances where you walk into a store wanting to spend money, and yet, it just doesn’t happen. Maybe this is a girl thing?

We went back to the hotel, had some KILLER pina coladas, and some great dinner. This new, bed-bug free hotel we stayed at, Hotel Maguana, made the best sandwiches ever! It was decided then and there we would order some for breakfast, and take them with us back to Bonao, which was where we decided to head back to the next.

Even though nobody said it, I think two days of not flying was getting the better of us.

Dominican - Feb. 11, '07

The comp was officially over, and six of us hard-core Canucks were looking forward to another week of flying. We headed out as early as we could (which wasn’t very) to the coast, which was a 3 hour drive or so from where we were inland.

We found a hotel, dropped off our luggage, and went searching for La Playita, a coastal soaring site. After a bit of searching we ended up on a long gravel road that looked like it would take us to launch. Sure enough, after a bit of patience and testing the Suzuki’s durability, we made it.

La Playita is about 400 feet ASL, with a beautiful view of the sea. It was fairly windy, but after sending Deryk out as our wind dummy, it was decided it was soarable.

Bruce helped me launch, and for the next hour and a half, I made passes along the ridge – it was awesome. Flying with so many other gliders on such a small ridge was a really good experience - I tried my best to obey ridge rules, and made all my turns deliberate. I think I did okay – nobody ended up yelling at me!!!

Some French pilots joined us later on, and that’s when things got a bit overcrowded…especially since he expected everyone to clear the way and make room for him. None of us were impressed, but he missed the best of the soaring anyway, as the lift band started to fade.

I think it was during this flight where I got in tune with things again. I experimented with different brake pressure, weight shift, and keeping my glider turns flat. It was good too trying to figure out why there was more lift in some places than there was in others.

I stayed above launch for a while, and then just cruised along the ridge. Bruce started sinking out and landed, and not too long afterwards I was stuggling to stay afloat, so I landed too. I have to brag here (I don’t get to do this often in paragliding), and say that my landing was PERFECT! There was a small area to land in, and damn, I must say that I nailed it! Apparently there is photographic evidence of this – I will post it once I have it.

I later found out that messing up a landing in that part of the country was not what you wanted to do….

Oscar, Bruce and I went to the rocky beach while the guys did some swimming. I wasn’t in the mood to swim, so after a while, I decided to head back to the car. I took a slightly different route along the beach and noticed there was a path between some low bushes. After literally 5 steps, I felt something on my leg, looked down, and this is what I saw:

I was so surprised! I didn’t know where the hell this thing came from, and after pulling on it, realized it was lodged pretty deep in my leg.

I waddled back to the road where everyone else caught up with me. We couldn’t pull the thing out, so we cut the spikes, and then pulled what was remaining out of my skin. Crazy!!! Imagine landing in a whole bush of this stuff – yikes!

I started reacting a bit to the pricks, but Oscar came to the rescue with his ultra-cool Superman band-aids. My bug-bitten, scraped, blotchy legs now bore some pretty hip decorations.


That night we went to dinner, and to bed at the bed-bug hotel.

Dominican - Feb. 9 & 10, '07

Another comp day, another day to take shot at a personal best. My remedial class tutoring was definitely helping, but I still didn’t feel like I was capable of shattering any XC records anytime soon.

As I launched for the first flight of the day, I headed towards the ridge on the right, with my usual radio tutoring. Every time I was asked to do a 360, I kept questioning whether everyone knew how low I was – I just couldn’t do it! I felt that had I done those 360’s as low as I was, I’d fall out of the lift, and have to land into a tree. Jocky telling me to 360 was probably perfectly safe – if there were any doubt, he wouldn’t have suggested I do it. But out of my own stubbornness, or just lack of faith, I ignored him most of the time when he asked me to do this.

As a result of this, I landed in the valley again. It was a nice feeling knowing that I didn’t have to pay the bum-out fields a visit again, but having a 15 minute flight was a bit frustrating. I remember being on the motorcycle on the way back up to launch thinking what made a good paragliding student. I think my being too mechanical when being asked to turn, and not combining my own decisions with those of a professional was where I went wrong. Yes, I made the conscious decision not to 360 some of the time, but I wasn’t thinking about lift triggers and generators, and the like. This was my bad, as expecting somebody who’s thousands of feet away to tell you precisely when to turn, apply brake, etc. is kind of silly. I really do admire those who can coach paragliding pilots – I don’t think they have an easy job.

By the time I got back up to launch, Jocky had taken the tandem with his friend John, and was almost in the valley. One of the organizers at the comp offered to provide me with some advice on the radio, which I gladly took.

So, off I went into the air again, following approximately the same line I had taken on the previous flight. The air was a bit choppy at times, and Sebastian commented on my shitty response times. I was letting the glider be it’s own boss, rather than taking control.

Jocky was out in front, so I headed towards him, hoping I could use the lift that he was once in. Unfortunately though, it was gone so I had to make a landing. He followed suit not too far behind, got swarmed by mass of kids, and that’s my last flight-related memory of the comp.

I can’t say I ever felt especially disappointed with my flying, other than maybe on the first day where I was the first pilot to land in the bum-out field. That was a bit embarrassing, but in the end, it really didn’t matter. I think too, the comp was a bit beyond my abilities, and I’m really thankful that there were people there to help me out. I know that if everyone who showed up at the meet were as needy as I was, the comp would have been a disaster so I could really appreciate the effort that was made to get me flying.

That night, it absolutely poured – I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such absolute torrential rainfall. I can only imagine what it’s like to experience a monsoon – flash flooding anyone?

If I’m not mistaken, I think that night was Meringue night. I will be the first to profess that I cannot Meringue. I tried – I even tried the age-old trick of drinking before dancing to “loosen up”, but to no avail. Somehow I didn’t think my club dancing moves were appropriate, so I did my best to go with the flow to the ultra-fast beats, but my Caucasian dance moves could not be shaken that night. What happens in the Dominican, stays in the Dominican.

The next morning still had some overdevelopment from the night before, so flying the last day was called off. The guys and I headed to town and just sort of bummed the day around.

In the early evening was the awards ceremony, where I was awarded an Ozone vest for landing in the bum-out field first! Well, looking back, the 4 hour hike out of the bum-out field was totally worth the vest….lol, okay, maybe not.

It was a good send-off, with Peter Claghorn (local Canadian pilot) winning the big prize of a free Ozone glider. Go Canada! The rest of the Canadians were rowdy as usual, drinking too much, but having good harmless fun. I think we igloo-folk had a good presence out in the Dominican.

Dominican - Feb. 8, '07

At this point the groove the comp was starting to set in, and our morning bus rides to launch (where I had my customary nap) were becoming comfortably routine. Sitting on launch in the hot sun, waiting for the right time to launch felt like home too.


Unless I’m feeling especially antsy to launch, I really don’t mind sitting up on a mountain waiting for the wind to change. If the weather is nice, and you have good company, what’s wrong with sitting hundreds, if not thousands of feet up, with a view people pay millions for? It just makes paragliding that more special – knowing that soon you’ll be flying over the landmarks you were admiring only a few minutes ago from atop that very hill.


One of the organizers and Jocky kept telling me how they’d get me up to cloudbase, and although I would have loved to believe them, deep down, I didn’t. Maybe my gut was simply correct in knowing this wouldn’t happen, or maybe because of my disbelief, it didn’t happen. When I was flying, I really did try, but during the comp cloudbase always seemed like a lofty goal.

Once again Jocky offered his assistance, and coached me on radio on my flight. This flight was the best of my solos, and I made it out to the valley, but still short of where I wanted to be. Looking back, my turns really were too aggressive, and my faith in my glider and myself just wasn’t there. The best coaching in the world can only take a student so far.

I landed safely in a field where I was greeted by little swarm of kids, who were very appreciative of the Canadian mementos I had on me and gave away. It’s hard not to look at kids like that and wonder what their futures hold.

If my memory serves me right, this was the first and last flight of the day. I don’t remember exactly what I did for the rest of the day, but I think it involved sitting at the bar for a couple hours, waiting for the bus. I never really did get drunk at the roadside bars, which was probably a very good thing as it could have been especially easy thing to do in 40 degree heat, and beer that comes in one liter bottles.

Dominican - Feb. 7, '07

The next day, Jocky offered to take me tandem, which I enthusiastically agreed. Yes, I would miss a day of flying in the comp, but who cares? I had never gone tandem before, and I knew that going with Jocky would be a great experience, and would guarantee going cross country.

Sure enough, he did not disappoint; I’m unsure of the exact distance we flew, but it was a heck of a lot further than I had ever gone in a paraglider before! During the flight, he pointed out all the thermal triggers, and turned perfectly in the lift we had. It was funny how some of the other pilots knew Jocky was flying, and tried to follow the line he forged. Unfortunately for them, they couldn’t hold a candle to Jocky’s masterful flying, and after flying past some gliders who launched before us, we were alone.

It was interesting how certain things that make me nervous flying didn’t even faze Jocky. For example, at one point, I thought we were rather low above some trees, and I told him that had I been in the pilot’s seat, I would be looking for a place to land. But he knew there was lift around the corner, kept the faith, and we kept our height. I certainly learned a lot…even if I can’t exactly recall what he said about thermal triggers and such, I think being in the passenger’s seat gave me a new outlook on flying.

We were then ready to land, when we saw a beautiful house with a nice green grassy backyard, perfect for folding a glider in. Only problem? It was fenced in, and didn’t look like there was a way to get out. So instead, we landed in the field next door where a slightly spooked horse welcomed us. After looking at the fence enclosing the mansion, we were glad we didn’t land there. It had a concrete wall like 8 feet high with barbed or razor wire on the top…maybe the fence was electrified too – who knows?

After that we went for a beer, and called it a day. It was a good one to say the least.

Dominican - Feb. 6, '07

With the previous day’s horror behind me, I woke up feeling like I absolutely had to do better than the bum out field. I still wasn’t feeling the whole paragliding scene yet, but I knew I could improve. To elaborate – I find that with paragliding, when I don’t fly for a while, I need a few days to get into the groove of things…or at least one good groundhandling session. I think it has to do with paragliding being a very instinctual sport – if you’re not totally emotionally connected to the things around you, your success rate decreases.

That day at launch, Jocky offered to provide Chris and I with some coaching over the radio…I think he and some of the organizers pitied Chris, Jacques and my previous day’s jungle ordeal. That was okay though - I was more than happy to get flying advice from Jocky, even if it were in more of a remedial class fashion. LOL!

Anyway, so I launched, and Jocky instructed me to go to a spot right of launch and circle around in the lift that was there. I think the combination of my overly aggressive turns, and weak lift contributed to my soon sinking glider. Jocky then sent me to the valley, where that same finger that I couldn’t cross the day before loomed before me once more. This time my altitude was high enough to clear it, but not enough to get around the rest of the ridge.

So there I was, circling around bum-out field #2, trying to extend my flight as much as possible. I knew I was going to have to land anyway, but when I found a couple fun bubbles, I turned hard in them, and just tried to enjoy where I was. It was then landing time…

Landing in a field with trees 100 feet high (okay, that’s a guess) is not fun…but I’m always open for a challenge. I did have two options though: land in the narrow field with high trees around, and one tree in the middle, or land in a nice open field with a herd of cattle and a bull. LOL, thinking back, it seems stupid, but the field with the bull scared the hell out of me. I’ve just heard too many stories about angry bulls and paragliders (and I have another story about bulls later on in the trip too!), so I immediately opted for the ultra-challenging field to land in.


I did some careful S-turns in the tree-surrounded field, losing altitude, but still being quite high, slowly heading towards the field with the bulls, as well as a barbed wire fence. I thought fast, and figured that if I hit the leafy tree on the left, I would come to an immediate halt, and solve my problem. So, that’s what I did!

LOL, so yeah, I’m a paragliding pilot who hit a tree on purpose. I hit the tree (about 50 feet high), and then came crashing down a few seconds later. I was totally fine, other than a couple scrapes, and half a wing that was 50 feet atop this tree. LOL, this is making me laugh because it sounds so stupid in retrospect. I mean, why risk falling from a tree, when there’s a nice green field right in front of you? ANYWAY, so these two local guys immediately come to my rescue, and ask me over and over again if I was hurt (in Spanish of course). They must of thought I was insane.

My concern was more about my wing than anything else, and looking at in the tree made me wish I had a hack saw. One of the guys climbed up the tree, and after half an hour of using branches to unhook the lines, and careful tugging, it was free. I somehow asked in broken Spanish if many paragliders landed in the same field (and tree!) as I did, to which my new amigos answered with a no, and a point to the grassy field. I made some horns on my head, and then pointed to the tree, at which they started laughing. They finally understood why I did what I did – land in a tree versus risk a potentially raging bull. They then told me the bulls were harmless, and lazy, and there was no need to worry. I think this important tidbit should be mentioned in next year’s briefing!!!

I got a motorcycle ride from the guys to a local roadside bar, where some of the other pilots were sitting. I felt like the biggest loser ever, but concealed it with the grin on my face. I sure did feel like an idiot, especially hearing about those who flew 50 k’s or something that day, but I went to the comp to set personal bests, not compete with those with 10 years experience on me.

When I got back to the hotel, I inspected my glider and made sure it was kosher. Yes, I’m currently very frustrated with my Apco wing, but I will concede that my wing is like the car that never dies – you can put it though a lot, and it just keep going.

Being like 40 degrees outside, Bruce and I were feeling like some adventure, and jumped into the hotel pool, pretty much fully clothed. Ha ha, it was fun, but I got the hell out of there as quickly as possible before some creepy bacteria got the best of me.

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!

Dominican - Feb. 4, '07

We woke up the next morning bright and early, prepared to make our way to Bonao – the location where we thought the competition was being held. We talked to a cab driver (who’s vehicle was more like a limo-style sedan), and his rate for taking us to Bonao seemed very reasonable. We got in the car, and felt quite dignified being in a VIP-like car on our way to the comp.

We got to Bonao, and could not find the hotel where we were supposed to stay. Not being prepared as I should have been, I only had the name and telephone number of the hotel, but no directions or address. The cabby called the hotel, which told him they were actually located closer to the town of Jarabacoa – another $50 cab ride away! Jens and I, not knowing Spanish well, or where the hell we were for that matter, reluctantly agreed for the cab driver to drive us to the true location of the hotel.

We arrived at the hotel to the stares from pilots who had already arrived, and were sitting on the grass. They must of thought it was my idea to get a limo ride to the comp! The total of our cab ride cost us more than we intended, but at least it was a convenient and luxurious ride.

The hotel…well, I hate to say it, but it was much to be desired. They put me up in a little apartment in a building that was divided into 4 units or so. It literally had a bedroom with a single bed that reeked of mould, a bathroom with the shittiest lighting ever and a curtain rod that kept falling, and a kitchen whose amenities included rock hard chairs set at the ultra-comfortable angle of 90 degrees. What a shithole.

Coming from a 4 star hotel, admittedly, this was a lot to digest. I then soon discovered that Jens was put up in a very nice fully furnished house, while most of us were expected to live in sub-standard living conditions. Jealousy is unhealthy, but I’m human – seeing someone else have so much more than you was hard.

I got back to the dump I was expected to call home, when I noticed that the place didn’t lock. Being female, and by myself, this made me nervous, so I talked to the office, and asked that they at least put a lock on the place. After many Dominican minutes, they sent one of their workers over to do the installation.

I’m not crazy about bringing up the events that transpired when the worker arrived, but I won’t break the candidness of my postings and will tell it as it is; the worker who’s job was to simply replace the lock was a horny, disgusting, pig who had no respect for women. While installing the new lock and talking in Spanish (which coincidentally, my knowledge is extremely limited), he motioned to the bedroom, and was just short of saying he wanted to have sex with me (I didn’t hear that exact word in his dialogue). Rubbing your body, pointing at the shower and to the person infront of you is pretty universal too – how appalling…

I’m not normally one who allows myself to get worked up about most things, and over the years I’ve put up with a lot from men – a lot. I guess that’s where my cynicism comes from…but I try to forgive, and acknowledge that raging hormones often get in the way of sensibility. But for the first time, here was a guy who made me feel extremely uncomfortable, especially knowing he had the other key to the lock he just installed. Long story short, I told the office what happened, and it was agreed that I could stay in Jen’s palace, as there was a spare bedroom anyway. What a relief that was!

Here’s a picture of a frog Jens caught in the dining room that night. We should have had the French over for dinner. KIDDING!!!


I don’t really remember the rest of that night, but I know I had dinner and managed to meet up with the rest of the Canadians. It was good seeing that everyone had arrived safely.

Dominican - Feb. 2 & 3, '07

Well, my plan to spend some time at Busch Gardens was kiboshed yesterday when my plane came in late, and it started to rain. I was a bit disappointed, but made use of my free by going shopping. Shopping in the US is so much better than Canada – better selection, cheaper prices – it’s nice. I ended up spending like 50 bucks or so, and got a whole bag of stuff. The guys in the mall all wore super-low pants, which they had to hold up in a strategic area. Hah, does anybody really think there’s something attractive about seeing the top of a guy’s boxers while his pants hang on his knees? Fashion still often remains a mystery to me.

I met Jens at the airport and we made our way to our awesome hotel. We had dinner, then went to bed.

The next day we spent browsing the colonial area of Santo Domingo, where a tour guide invited himself to show us around. Everything went well until the tour ended, and the guide demanded more money than we were giving him. I realize most people in the Dominican don’t make a lot, but exercising tact in less than ideal situations should be universal. Whatever – I thought our generosity was adequate, but apparently enough is never enough. We paid him a bit more, and made our way back to the hotel, where we lounged around the pool, and went to dinner. Ahhhh, what a fanatastically relaxing day that was.

Paragliding Trips Should be Infinite

I'm baaaaaacccckkkk!

I've returned from an awesome adventure in the Dominican - this was one trip I wish didn't end.

I had a fantastic time in the Dominican - the flying was good, the people were great, and the stories, aaaahhh, always interesting.

I broke a promise to myself, and unfortunately did not keep a daily journal of my trip's adventures. That's okay though - it's all still fresh in my mind. I'll write as much as possible in the next few days so that I don't forget anything.

Let's just say that the trip started off fantastic - this is what prepping for paragliding looks like:


And the rest of the trip? It involved everything from bulls, the hike from hell, roadside gourmet cooking, progressively insane bug bites, and oh yes, of course, flying.