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Beginnings

By Jeff Goin
Aug 15, 2000

25 years ago my 13-year-old world was much smaller. When my brother brought home a new book containing pictures of a hang-glider and sailplane (below) it was about to get much bigger. I was very interested. When I read you could solo at age 14 I was uncontainable…I wanted to fly!

My loving mother, after initially brushing it off as a passing fad, finally relented and even aided my insatiable quest for flight. She traipsed me off to Marion, Ohio where I fell in love with flying (soaring there) and started my first of many, many hours in the air.

Frequent weekends of early mornings and miles on the family station wagon eventually produced the desired results…I got my glider license. My poor mother figured "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" and wound up taking glider training herself all the way up to solo. Not to leave out Dad who tolerated many a wifeless weekend, he even rode his bike with me the 35 miles to the airport once! I would camp out at the glider club hangar so they wouldn't have to be there which allowed me to spend the whole weekend flying. 

My first glider solo was a week after my 14th birthday and my private glider license preceded my driver's license (you can get the glider license at age 16.) One other thing…Mom didn't think much of "hang gliders". When I mentioned how cool they would be (and affordable) she promptly informed me that if she ever found out I did any hang-glider flying any support towards my aviation endeavors would end. No more talk of "hang gliders" afterwards.

How about PPG

Jumping ahead to early March of 1999; a non-flying friend, Rob Sutter (below), called me to ask if I would go in halves with him on a "powered paraglider".

A what? I asked.

"A powered paraglider…it's a parachute thing with a motor on your back" Rob said.

Of course I knew he was nuts. This must be some lawn-chair thing like what the guy flew over Los Angeles where he was shooting helium balloons to descend. I'm already flying plenty and don't want to hurt myself in some weird contraption. Then he suggested viewing some web sites including www.poweredparaglider.com.

Well it flies so of course I'll at least check it out.

Shoud I do this?

Wow! This is too good to be true. It must be! Seeing how refined they were I was infatuated immediately. There was no way…you can fly with this thing that only weighs 60 pounds! My imagination went into overdrive. The very first one I saw was an "Explorer" and it looked fine! 
Of course the left-brain wondered whether this was at-all safe. After all, I had just gotten my helicopter rating and was flying it pretty regularly, flew small planes, flew for work, rode motorcycles and did lots of in-line skating. "Is more risk a good idea?" I thought.

So I started calling pilots on the internet's powered paraglider list that lived nearby. Thankfully the most helpful of the bunch was also close, Nick Scholtes, near Plainfield, IL. He had been flying PPG about 5 years at that time and was a wealth of information. He was willing and even enthusiastic about answering my questions including letting me sit in his harness which had a nice hanging home in the barn. Primarily he showed my how it could be very safe.

Convinced

That evening I was on the phone to schedule instruction in California. At Nick's recommendation I planned on earning a free-flight p2 rating and tried to get his instructor, the acclaimed Alan Chuculate, but he was unavailable. That wouldn't do. I wanted to start next week! Thankfully another instructor was recommended and turned out to be not only available but also absolutely golden.

Over the next month, in two 4-day sessions, Jeff Williams patiently guided me through the necessary steps to my P2 Novice paraglider rating. Initially I planned on only motor flying but the soaring and free flight aspect turned out to be equally captivating. Jeff Williams, being an accomplished soaring pilot, helped me significantly in this effort.

Having flown sailplanes for years in my teenage years I found soaring the paraglider an exhilarating companion. Coring a thermal, the central skill in piloting a sailplane is identical with a paraglider. But being out in the breeze provides new and wondrous sensations. For example a thermal, being a rising column of warm air, can frequently be felt on the skin.

Training

My parents first heard about my paraglider training by getting this picture in email. I captioned it: Mom…I’ve gone over the edge” and described that this day produced my first “high flight” for my p2 paraglider rating. She has, thankfully since forgiven me.

It had its moments. Like anything new there is that proverbial learning curve that I kept falling off of. One memorable training session found me on my butt being dragged. It was windy so we were practicing a method of "killing" the wing so it wouldn't drag the pilot and I obviously didn't have it down. 

Thankfully, as the 8' dry gully approached I was sufficiently motivated to find the "B" risers and successfully rein in the nylon snake that was successfully humbling me.

There were, of course, other memorable moments but Jeff Williams knew when and where it to have me fledge and so there was never more than skinned limbs and egos. Thankfully most of the training occurred in private. Only Jeff in his chair witnessed and wondered "what is he doing now?" As it turned out the training itself was a very enjoyable aspect of the process.

Adding the Motor

The fresh p2 rating in my wallet awaited action: I went in search of propulsion. Living in the midwest meant no flying until then. Looking on the internet resulted in finding a barely used Fly 75 (modified Fly 70). It had one owner and was only flown to church and back a few times by a careful old woman. The folks at Aerolight in Miami were great to work with and we set up training with Mark Sorenson. 

How much training could I need…I am now, after all, a big-shot p2 rated paraglider pilot. One day should be plenty. 

Standing out in the middle of a huge grated field, soon to be some kind of gigantic development I was kiting the wing overhead. Yeah ok, got this under control. Then the gust came. 

The wing lifted me a bit and I thought "uh oh". As that thought passed out of consciousness my hands instinctively pulled on the brakes. Exactly the wrong thing to do.

After an hour-long cross country this is final approach to the Scholtes International Paradrome in Northern IL.

I've slid that far before but never on that part of my body. The flailing wing yanked me clean off the ground and proceeded to drag me at least a hundred feet before I got myself turned around enough to control it. Thankfully mark had the foresight to have me in a harness only…no motor. So, outside of the seat being ground bare in one place, all was well excepting my now-smothered ego and a few pebbles in my legs.

Another day of training resulted and the words "Never ever yank on the brakes in response to getting blown around" were indelibly etched into some underused corner of my brain.

Flatland and Other Flying

It turns out the motor has been a wonderful addition in other areas too. It's about the only way to fly in the Midwest (towing works but you need several people, one of which must possess a tow rig) but is good for other places too.

I travel a fair amount and have taken my motor on several trips. Even if the areas I'm going to are soarable they're rarely soarable all the time. With the motor I can enjoy the still morning air before the lift turns on both in the morning and the evening. It also allows me to go places where there is no lift, especially along ridge-less beaches. 

Thankfully the process was as enjoyable as the outcome. My new-found freedom is one that seems to get better and better!

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