The unexpected ultimate flight.

The day began, waking up, looking out of the window to make an estimation of the day to come. Flyable? Making a trip? Or repairing and preparing the flying material? Above the majestic mountains of the Hunza valley, which I could see from my window, a blue sky was visible. Almost falling out of the bed to see more of the sky above me I couldn't see any clouds. It looked like an opportunity to go flying. After a few days of not flying, or just marginal flying because of cloudy skies, my heart became a little nervous. Nervous, because one needs to be ready for the ultimate flight at all times. You never know what the day will bring. The best things in life often come unexpected. This day would become a perfect example...

During breakfast we noticed a strange phenomenon which we hadn't seen before. Strong winds from the East! East?! At 10 o'clock in the morning already strong winds from the East? We decided to make our plans for the rest of the day at the breakfast table. With this wind the decision was easy; all the take-offs face west! Easterly winds, with this strength and so early in the morning; flying was not an option. We didn't hurry to finish our breakfast and decided to go to the only place in town where civilization tried to enter the town of Karimabad in the form of an internet café. With slow (and many times lost) connections, this internet café became a meeting place for the few tourists in Karimabad. The other meeting place for tourists looking something like home was Café Hunza because that’s the only place you can get a 'decent' latte. After an hour sitting behind the computer and talking to some friends, we left the internet café. Meanwhile it was 13.30 already. Looking at the valley, we noticed a change in the weather. The wind was completely gone! Another surprise. Is it flyable? Always that one question on a pilots mind, horny for flying! We were looking at a sunny Hunza valley and everything seemed to have changed into a good flying day. A little bit late for a perfect day because normally we would have been on the take-off by this time, preparing our wings. At this time Mansoor, our Pakistan friend and Jeep-driver, met us in front of the internet café. He was ready and happy to drive us up to the take-off.
It was 14.30 as we drove up to the take-off.

When the day looks good for flying we would have been in the air at 2 o'clock already, looking for thermals to bring us to a higher level. Flying in Hunza is different from other places and it’s quite technical right after the start. Technical in the sense that your mind needs to be in a certain mental state from the moment you take off. If you compare it to other places in the world, it looks like an easy place to fly. Very impressive and very high, but not challenging in the way of having difficulties in finding lift. It seems very easy to find thermals right after the start, make some transitions and skim the mountains above the take-off for the stronger cores to elevate you to the highest level you have ever been. Your personal record lies within reach. Seems, because if you fly through the very soft thermals looking for stronger ones right after taking off, you’ll probably find yourself looking for a landing place instead. I made that mistake a few times (especially with the small acro-glider in 2004). After taking off I was convinced to find some easy thermals to bring me higher, it all seemed so easy. The result; landing too soon on perfect flying days. The trick is to be modest and to take every bit of lift. Once above 3.500 - 4.000 meters, the chance of finding stronger lift increases.

After arriving on take-off with the Jeep, we were ready to fly at approximately 15.30. No sign of the easterly wind that blew through the valley earlier. Shortly after I took off and as modest as I am (or should I say became?) I used every thermal, even the weak ones. The take-off is westerly faced and it’s an easy place to take off from during the entire day. The problem with the Hunza valley is that the mountainrange you need to fly to get really high is facing south. If you take off late (which is what we did that day), the sun is already to far to the west and thus only a few parts of this mountainrange are in the sun. Finding lift in those kinds of circumstances make flying a bit more challenging, but it’s in those circumstances I am completely one with my glider. These are the times that I can show myself how patient I am and use all of my paragliding skills, making use of all the opportunities given by the landscape. This is why I fly. During a flight like this, the little successes bring me in a happy state of mind. I feel I become one with my equipment and a meditative kind of feeling overcomes me. Total concentration and completely focused on flying gives me the closest feeling of being a bird. With this absolute level of concentration I passed the 4.000 meter line of vertical height and then, flying in more consistent thermals, I flew towards the top of Hun Mountain at approximately 5.000 meters. Below me were shadows all around because the sun was already close to the horizon. Where does this lift come from? Am I that good? Stay modest, I say to myself. Use every bit of lift you can find.
Now we are talking! Suddenly my Brauninger starts beeping, faster and higher pitched than before and a constant +5 m/s brings me swiftly to 6.000 meters. That’s the way (Uhuh! Uhuh!) I like it. It must’ve been one of the last thermals from the Hunza valley. What a view and what an opportunities. From here I can see into the next valley, north of the take-off. This valley, with a big glacier meandering to the valley floor, was still in the sun! I’ve been flying for about an hour, and my GPS clock shows 16.40.

I decide to fly towards the next valley, into the sun and hopefully into the lift. This was more like the reflex of a competition pilot; fly towards the sun, out of the shadows, looking for opportunities to continue this flight. I was fit, had some nice climbs earlier and I was very curious to see the ‘postcard’ mountain called the Ladyfinger from the opposite site. From Karimabad, you can only see the south-side of Ladyfinger and Hunza-Peak. That is also the angle from where they take the pictures for the many postcards. Now I had the chance to see the other side of this 6.000 meter peak. After I entered the valley I found myself in the best climbs of the day. After all it was not so bad to take off so late! The sun had heated-up the whole north-west facing ridge. Meanwhile I crossed the ridge west of Ladyfinger at about 5 o’clock. Right at the backside of Ladyfinger I found a constant 4 m/s climb towards 6.500m. Cold, very cold, especially my fingers and chin. No problem, enjoy the flight. I felt good and I felt better every meter I went up. I just broke my personal record (6.400 meters), great! Still going up but so cold and I started having difficulties to breath. At that moment I thought it must’ve been the excitement of the view towards the north; snow covered black and white mountains reflecting the sun, beautiful! Later I realized that the lack of oxygen and the sudden drop in temperature was a more probable cause of the difficult breathing.

No problem; my head was clear and I knew exactly what I was doing. This is what I came here for. Cold chin and fingers, still feeling good! It took me more concentration than before though! “Be aware!”, I told myself. Still going up with 3 m/s, flying towards the backside of Hunza Peak in a north/east direction. “I have to take a picture of that! NOT now, I have to concentrate”. A whole blanket of white clouds are racing towards me from the east, and with it also an increasing wind from that same direction. Since I passed into this valley I encountered wind from the east. Just like the strong wind which blew through Hunza Valley this morning. At about 6.500m the lift ceased and the wind picked up, no more forward penetration! In front of me the Ultar Brothers, I (7.400m) and II (7.600m), with their heads up in the clouds. Looking at the horizon in the east, the white blanket of clouds is still racing towards me with what appears to be increasing speed. The increasing turbulence made me decide to fly back. Flying back towards the southwest brought me closer to Hunza Peak and Ladyfinger again. I’M GOING UP AGAIN!!!

Flying almost in a straight line I’m trying to escape towards Hunza. While doing that I reach an altitude of 7000m at the same place I crossed into this valley 15 minutes ago. Because of all the excitement it feels a lot longer ago. I’M STILL GOING UP! I’m flying big circles now over the ridge. It looks like my elevator is a 45 degree thermal from the ridge towards heaven! I knew that without additional oxygen flying at altitudes of around 8.000 meters is too much, even for a totally fit and motivated person like me. I knew that flying under such circumstances concentration and the ability to think clear would soon be very difficult (although some people say that’s a problem for me even at ground level). My goal was now to continue my escape towards the middle of the Hunza valley.

Now what? I’m blind! What happened? Suddenly I couldn’t see anything anymore! I had the visor from my helmet down and underneath it I was wearing snowboard goggles with double lenses. After a few minutes of flying almost blind (I was just following the arrow of my compass towards 260 degrees) I found out, after opening my visor, that the goggles were completely covered with ice. My breath probably formed condensation on my goggles, and at this height water freezes instantly! I think my breath condensated because I was flying with the wind from behind, so there was less air-exchange inside the helmet allowing my warm breath to condensate on my cold goggles.

I cleared the lens of my goggles and I could see again. I can not start to explain what I saw when I looked around to orientate again. I was flying right in the middle of Hunza Valley, with the valley floor at about 2.000 meters. I was cruising at an altitude of around 7.000 meters, so there was a vertical space between me and the little villages of 5 km. What a view! After I completely soaked in this marvellous view I started my descent to recover from the high altitude and cold. At about 5.500 meters I felt confident again, was a little warmer, had more oxygen and it felt like a safe place to be. I felt good and not too tired, so instead of going down to land I flew towards Rakaposhi who’s peak was still in the sun. Some soaring would be nice! Arriving at the slopes at 4.500 meters I managed to climb up to 6.000 meters again in some very nice smooth thermals. “This is so f*ckng awesome!”. Again a beautiful view, steep black slopes with white structured glaciers. Above me the majestic peak of the highest mountain of Hunza, the Rakaposhi (7.788 meters). First climbed by Japanese climbers via the later called Japanese route, and I’m flying over it! A small beep indicates the tape of my HD camera mounted on my helmet finally ran out. I’m hoping for beautiful footage so I can let everybody see and hopefully feel what I felt this day. I get my photocamera out of my harness and take some pictures of the glaciers beneath me. From this altitude they look like elephant skin. I also take some pictures from the place I flew before and the threatening cloud that was closing in on me from the east. It looks amazing from this distance.

Still at 5.500m, I’m cruising along these slopes. It’s so beautiful and I’m enjoying every second of it. At places like this, the sense of flying is much more direct than very high in between the mountain peaks. When flying close to the mountains the terrain provides you with a real sense of speed. As I look at the details of the mountain I realize that only very few people have seen this before. I’m looking at the slopes of Rakaposhi, looking west, towards Chalt at the foot of Rakaposhi 15 km away. The sight of warm houses takes my mind to food and drinks, and just as I decide to fly back to Karimabad I suddenly see dust whirling over the valley floor, far beneath me. Another phenomenon? For sure it looked magic; clouds seemed to lose their moist and form a huge dust storm. I could not estimate the speed it was traveling towards me. Sometimes 15 km is not a big distance to be safe for these forces of nature. It is better to be safe than sorry, so I decided to go down as fast as possible and look for a safe landing place.

As I went down I noticed the clouds from the east that were hunting me before now also closed in on me. The easterly wind still blowing at my altitude prevented me from flying back to Karimabad. Landing at the foot of Rakaposhi seemed like the safest option. I spotted a big square with a big building in the middle close to a little town called Nassir Abad. From what I could see, it looked like a school. During my descent I noticed a lot of people on the square. Coming closer I realized it were mainly children playing cricket. I was able to see at least 5 fields and about 150 children. They looked like ants from above. It must’ve been a sports-day for them or something. It was a fantastic moment when I realized they where all looking up, waving their arms and screaming as loud as they could. Like iron dust on a piece of paper following a magnet underneath it the children were moving all at the same time in the same direction I was flying.

As I came lower the children freed up a little space, just big enough for me to land. Right after landing I couldn’t see my own feet anymore because of all the curious children who were closing in all around me. After a long and exciting flight like this, it is so good to be safe on the ground so I didn’t bother about the dust or the children. I was just so happy to be here.

After radio contact with Mansoor he came to pick me up from the school yard. In the Jeep I couldn’t believe the reading on my vario: max altitude: 7.685 meters. Tired but so happy with the unexpected amazing flight I was looking forward to enjoy the evening with my friends. Relaxing and of course après-flying!