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Cross-Country Flying 101
by Will Gadd, with input from many top pilots who patiently and repeatedly answered the question,
The first step toward successful cross-country flying
is simply leaving the security of the local hill and venturing
out into the wide world. It doesn't matter if a XC flight ends
one or 100 miles from the start point, but that it was attempted. For
every flight that ends in a new LZ, the same basic set
of skillsare required: An appreciation of local conditions,
constant analysis of immediate air conditions in flight, and
above all else, a safe place to land at the end of a flight.
Flight Planning
The planning of a XC flight is often more important than the actual flight. For
example, task committees at competitions set
tasks every morning armed with the best information they can gather on wind
speeds, possible cloud development, barometric pressure, satellite photos and
every other scrap of information they can muster. As
your own task committee, get as much information as possible before setting
your task. There are also days that simply aren't good for going XC. Rather
than forcing a day to meet your goal, set your goal around the day. Assuming
the day looks reasonable for XC flying (no thunderstorms forecast for noon
or other large-scale problems), a good map of potential routes is essential,
preferably one with airspace restrictions, mountain ranges, major roads, powerlines,
railroads and other features visible from the air.
Information from any local source about XC flying always has to be examined
with an eye toward who is giving it, but I like to pump local HG and PG pilots
about where they have been and what happened. For example, they may know
that a local canyon turns into a death venturi about noon every day, as well
as good thermals or areas where the powerlines make landing all but
impossible. After establishing the general conditions for the day and
area, the next step is to set some kind of goal and state it: "I'm going
to fly from Aspen to Leadville". Even if you don't make
your goal, you'll still learn something about XC flying, while you're guaranteed
not to learn anything if you're boating around with 20 other pilots at the
regular hill. XC flying in a group has advantages, but it's often difficult
to get anyone to go with you. Break the herd mentality and go anyway,
but tell someone generally where you're going in case you don't show
up later. In many states, a fishing license covers rescue costs for
the purchaser; it's a small investment that can go a long way.
Because paragliders go upwind very poorly, upwind flying should be kept to
a minimum. Understanding local wind conditions such as the difference between
morning, afternoon and evening valley flows, versus predominate winds aloft
can be critical. Using Aspen as an example, the wind usually flows down the
valleys in the mornings and evenings and up the valleys in the afternoons,
often in direct opposition to the winds aloft. If you're flying XC in valley
terrain, generally plan your flight to go with the wind aloft, but realize
that the wind low in the valleys may be very different. The windward side
of a high mountain ridge may well be the lee side of a ridge facing the same
direction in the valley and vice versa; it usually only takes getting rotored
hard once to appreciate this phenomena.
Say the wind is from the west, and you're flying a valley that runs south to
north, with the top of it at the north end. It is evening, you are getting
low, returning from a very long XC, and you are coming down the valley from
the north. A long spine sticks diagonally out into the valley from the east
side, it's in the sun, and it's about a perfect glide from where you are now.
You know the wind is from the west aloft, so you head for southwest side of
the spine, arriving there very low and you get hammered because the valley
wind, with a strong valley flow, is pumping down the valley, from the north.
You get rotored into the trees, it gets dark, you have a lousy walk.
The Flight
Although it may seem morbid, I repeatedly analyze my current XC flying situation
by asking myself, "What's the worst possible thing that could happen
here?" This tool helps me choose what I want to do in light
of what could kill me. If there is a set of high-tension wires between me
and my next thermal source, then it's key to get enough altitude to clear
them. Every paragliding flight has numerous situations that could be lethal,
but I think being aware of the possible dangers is critical to avoiding them. For
example, scratching valiantly all way down to an LZ is a good effort, but
not if it puts the pilot too low to glide to a safe landing (funny
how trees tend to get bigger when you have to glide over them).
Understanding the dangers in every given situation also forces the pilot to
have a plan. I like to think of XC flights as a series of small steps
that connect individual points into a line ending at a goal. If you fly with
a plan and an attitude of success, you won't get bogged down in indecision
until you waffle your way to the ground. Decide what you think will work
and then try to do it; if your plan doesn't work, you'll at least learn something
about what not to do instead of suddenly being on the deck for no good reason.
Once in flight, always have an LZ you can effectively use within an easy glide.
While XC gods can get away with diving into areas without LZs, it's not a
good plan to start with. Once you gain altitude and go on glide to
your next thermal source (cloud, ridge, whatever), switch from your first
LZ to a new one. This process will soon become instinctive, but until
it does, LZs define XC flying. Like driving an unfamiliar road
at night, safe XC flying demands an extra safety margin for unexpected conditions.
An often-heard XC mantra goes, "When you're high,
fly the sky, when you're low, fly the ground." Clouds are
usually the best indicators of lift, so try to get to cloudbase and then work
from cloud to cloud, paying attention that the cloud you're shooting for isn't
developing extremely rapidly or decaying. "Fly the sky" just means
flying from one cloud or cloud street to another, based on how the clouds
are developing or dissipating. It's hard to make the
switch from looking at the ground for thermal sources to the sky for lift, but the paradigm shift is essential for long-distance flying.
While thermaling up under a cloud, remember to look at the cloud regularly;
it's amazing how quickly you can be hundreds of feet below it one moment
and totally whited out the next. Plan your last turns to take you to the
edge of the cloud, and leave a safe margin so you don't get sucked into it.
If you do get sucked into a cloud, radical spiral diving is often the only
effective method of descent in strong lift. As I approach
the bottom of a cloud, I like to dump trim, step on the speed bar and, if
necessary, pull big ears while blasting out from under it. If the lift
is extremely strong, get a bearing on your compass before you hit the edge
of the cloud so you can navigate out the side in a worst-case scenario.
While it's important to fly the sky, sooner or later you either
end up low or flying on a day with no clouds. First, while you
are high and on days with clouds, try to connect the cloud to
the feature or area that's causing the cloud. Try to find patterns
of thermal development for your area for particular types of
days; on days with strong winds, thermals more often come off
spines; low-wind days generally result in thermals from bowls,
while areas where multiple ridges come together are often very
reliable. While every pilot has theories on what works for thermals
and what doesn't, it's essential to develop your own models and
check for accuracy, because in flight you've only got yourself.
If you get low, pick a likely spot in the sun, one that meets all your mental
requirements for what a likely spot is, and wait for a thermal. If you get
to a suspected trigger point and find no thermals but zero sink, wait and
things will probably get better. You wouldn't leave your local site if a
thermal didn't come through in thirty seconds, so treat your likely thermal
spot the same way. Ridge soaring is one good but often overlooked trick for
staying in the game while flying XC; you can use valley wind flow on a ridge
to soar until a thermal comes through, just be careful to establish wind
direction early.
Watch the vegetation, dust and trees to determine local wind direction. For
example, dry grass leans over in line with the wind, while leaves will flip
upside down with the wind. In addition to establishing wind direction, these
changes often indicate that thermals are lifting off near the disturbance.
Dry, dark areas of ground produce better thermals than wet, lighter-colored
areas, with moisture content more important than color. For example, dark,
dry
fields are usually very active thermal generators while green grass seldom is.
In general, height is safety in paragliding; both in case you
put your wing through a maneuvers clinic, or so you don't
land too early and watch all your friends fly over your head
at cloudbase. Be patient with the day while flying XC, which
means waiting for good conditions to develop, and be flexible;
it's not only OK but often imperative to modify your goal as
the day changes. Flats generally take more time than mountain
ridges to start working, as do deep valleys or shady hillsides.
If there's no development for the next ten miles of air, get
under a cloud and wait for the sky to improve. Likewise,
unless you're at cloudbase, don't fly over shady areas. Thermals
come from the sun, so no sun almost certainly means no thermals,
no matter how much you wish them otherwise.
Landing
Fight to the bitter end to stay up, but always accept your fate early enough
that you can still make a good landing in a safe LZ. Allow more
room for error than you would at your local LZ. Think about how carefully you
looked at your local LZ the first time you flew it, then think about having
to establish the hazards and problems of a brand new LZ from the air. Look
at the ground for strings of telephone poles (visualize the wires running between
the poles both in straight lines and at right angles to unseen poles), ridges
that could cause mechanical turbulence, drifting smoke, wind on lakes, dust
blowing and any other clue you can find for wind direction and hazards
in your LZ of the moment.
When choosing an LZ from the air, pick one shaped like a runway
rather than one shaped like a square. Everything else being
equal, long and narrow is better than short and wide because
you can line up on final and not worry about needing to turn
near the ground if you get unexpected lift or sink at the last
minute. I like to land fast rather than boating around waiting
for something bad to happen, especially in strong mid-day conditions.
If I'm landing in a baking field, I usually pull in two lines
of big ears and come in hot, only flaring as my feet almost hit
the dirt. I've seen too many accidents where people come into
an LZ and float aimlessly around, until they get hit with a strong
thermal cycle or dust devil close to the ground. Although I'm
not sure why, it seems like landing in a field often precipitates
thermals out of that field. A wing in serious big ears coming
in fast is extremely stable and more likely to simply slam through
small, violent thermals than be slammed by them.
If you’re committed to an LZ and you suddenly see powerlines in your path, it's better to crash downwind, stall your glider or B-line to the ground than to hit the powerlines. If the electricity doesn't kill you the fall out of the lines will. Remember to radio your potential landing position while you still have a line of sight or communication with other pilots in the air. Your signal goes much farther from 500 feet above the ground than it will once you have landed.
Equipment for XC flying
- A wing you feel totally comfortable on.
XC flying puts enough demands on a pilot's skill without having
to learn how to fly a difficult wing. Competition wings
do have good glide and speed, but it's more important to trust
your equipment in the lee of a big ridge or while landing in
a tree-encircled LZ than to glide a little farther.
- A map of where you're going and where you
could conceivably end up. Most hunting stores sell these nifty
clear map holders you can strap to your leg. I put my cheap
compass in this clear case so I can navigate out of clouds
should I get suckedinto one.
- A first aid kit fortified with industrial strength painkillers. If you crash a long way from a road, your only chance may be to take good painkillers to help prevent shock and keep you clear-headed enough to talk to the rescue helicopter.
- Radios, both yours and the chase crew's,
should haveadequate batteries. I like to carry a spare clip
of alkalines that I can plug into my radio in an emergency. Agree
on a frequency and write that frequency down so that if the
dial gets pumped you can remember which channel to use.
- A GPS is a great tool for judging wind speed,
landing position, air speed and distance. Two GPSs are especially
handy when flying over featureless areas, one for you and one
for the chase vehicle. "I'm over the brown field" generally
won't get you retrieved, while Lat. and Long. coordinates will.
- Cell phones are increasingly useful for retrieval, especially if you fly with a list of numbers for all your flying buddies with cell phones.
- Water and food, especially water. You can
walk two or three days without food, but you're dead without
water.
- Matches, a signal mirror and flag
tape are also all useful.
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