Tuesday Twaddle

with apologies to XC-Mag

(original)

Pie in the Sky

So funny you'll forget your legstraps

Dr Johnson Paragliding

AS KEEN observers of our beloved sport, and as pilots, Team Pie have noticed changes in paragliding over the past 10 years or so. Significant changes. Ten years ago there were 2 main free-flying disciplines involving aircraft that could be supported by a family car, and with pricetags that could be supported by a family income. Hangliding or paragliding, no more, no less. It really was that simple in the old days, you were either a HG pilot with a rusty old white van, a pair of ripped jeans and a baggy jumper or a PG pilot with a 3 year old red BMW, a shiny flightsuit and a filofax. You either preferred taking your wing out the boot of your car, up a hill and flying away, or you liked fixing an old ladder to your van, strapping your wing to it, unloading it at the drive-up launch site, rigging it up for an hour, de-rigging it, moving it to the westerly launch, rigging it up again and err... flying away. HG or PG, even the initials were short and sweet, how simple it was in the good old days.

These days, however, even if you've chosen to fly a floppie you still have a lot of options to choose from, there's SPG, PPG, ACRO, SPR, D-BAG, or any of the other hybrid sports. As Cowper said, "Variety is the very spice of life", and here at Pie in the Sky we couldn't agree more. As journalists, we were clearly going to be writing about these new and hybrid sports, and after an hour poring over the dictionary it quickly became obvious we would need help, so we decided we'd better get out there and talk to some of the people doing them. Or better still, listen. After many weeks travelling the globe and watching, interviewing and even trying these new sports we decided it would be a good idea to publish a summary of our findings.

So here it is folks, the Pie Mini-Guide to free-flight related sports that are like paragliding, but aren't quite paragliding, but they are almost, but they're slightly different, if you know what we mean. No? Well, read it anyway, maybe you'll understand when you have.

SPR, also known as Suicidal Para Riding, is generally considered a winter sport where a "skier" guides a wing the size of a large hankerchief down a mountainside at speeds approaching freefall terminal velocity. The L/D of these wings is such that they scream down a mountain, blasting over & through pine trees, with the occasional, and sometimes controlled, bounce off the planets surface. If the pilot survives the four minute "flight", they then use their ski-pass to get back up and have another go. Pie strongly recommends the purchase of daily ski-passes, as they often do not require photos and as such are transferrable, allowing your friends to use your pass once they have scraped you off the rocks. Ski-resorts have become popular locations for SPR as surviving pilots seem to have recognised the unique landing properties of snow. For some reason, it would seems that SPR hasn't, as yet, taken off at the warmer and more rocky flying sites. Team Pie recommends SPR if you have experienced the beauty of living, are bored with it, and would like to move on.

PPG, also known as Painful Paragliding, involves strapping a lawnmower, a fireguard & 10L of moped fuel to your back and taking-off from a flat field somewhere not too far from your house. PPG pilots are usually back where they started within 45 minutes when the fuel runs out and they generally don't stray too far, for fear of not being able to glide back with the 20Kg of wing and 25Kg of lawnmower on their back, therfore saving themselves from a bloody long walk. The "Pain" can usually be moderated well through the use of specially designed ear-defenders. Specially designed for the pilot only sadly, as they do very little to reduce the pain of the 300 people and animals they fly over during their 45 minute spin from the same bloody place three times a week. Consequently, this branch of our sport is generally considered more annoying then your neighbour cutting his grass when your having your afternoon snooze. Team Pie recommends PPG if you find driving up to launch too tiresome or if you live in Holland.

HGB, also known as Hang Bored'ing, involves waiting all winter until you are so bored that you have the choice of either jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge or stapping yourself into a HG like position suspended by wires below some steel poles, which in turn are bolted to the top of a snowboard. Think about it for a second. Hanging like a HG pilot from wires, 50cm above the ground, on a snowboard, while facing, err, the snow. Why? Stearing, apparently, is through the use of weightshift and a rudder controlled by your feet so further adding to the pleasure of watching white stuff fly past 30cm from your nose. We never could fully understand this one although once strapped into this device it might be mildly entertaining to throw yourself down a ski slope once or twice, but we imagined the fun might wear off after a few head first collisions with large conifers. Pie recommends HGB if you live in California.

SPG, also known as Suicidal Paragliding, involves strapping yourself into a paraglider that under normal conditions would be referred to as a kite and going flying in conditions only suitable for lifeboats and other emergency vehicles. The name of this sport is often confused with SPR, due to them sharing the word suicidal, but after extensive research we have concluded that, although confusing, these names are as accurate as any other. The SPG pilot can usually be seen setting up in the middle of a raging storm while wrapped in 5 layers of windproof clothing. At the very same time all other PG pilots can be seen entering the bar having given up on the entire day. The sport is very similar in concept to what, for 20 years, has been called gale hanging, only this time they really mean it. The well clothed pilot can usually be seen hanging under his kite in a storm, then hanging in the trees behind takeoff and, finally, hanging around hospitals and insurance offices in the vague hope that someone else will pay to fix both their broken leg and their wing. Pie recommends SPG if you read about the Eva Withoutskis fiasco, felt somewhat envious and wished there was a video.

D-BAG'ing, also known as Debagging, involves jumping off something with a paraglider instead of a parachute, often bridges or helicopters. Why anyone would choose a paraglider when jumping off a bridge is a mystery to the Pie reporters, but the advantages of jumping from a helicopter are clear. The paraglider pilot finds himself with plenty of altitude, and lots of time to "do things", such as consider how he's going to pay the helicopter bill when he gets back down. The helicopter pilot, on the other hand, finds himself back in the bar 20 minutes later with a load more cash and a promising little sideline. At launch the glider is held within a deployment bag which at first glance would seem to be designed to allow the wing to open smoothly, safely and well below the platform being leapt off. On further examination it becomes clear it is actually designed to allow the pilot to be both recognisable and to look cool in the video being filmed from the platform. Team Pie can't recommend D-BAG'ing, as we simply don't have the balls for it and we don't know anyone who has. We do, however, think you must need very large ones and also a disproportionate level of trust in that guy holding the bag.

ACRO, also known as Airborne Chronically Repetitive Overdosing, is a type of flying where a pilot puts his wing into strange, often repetitive, cool-looking and pointless configurations in the simple hope of getting laid later that night. Unknown to many European ACRO addicts, although pretty obvious to all non-ACRO pilots, you must hold a South American passport if you wish to fully succeed in ACRO. Many non-latinos try and fail at ACRO, while possessing the required top-notch flying skills, they almost all fail miserably in the post-flight phase. They can usually be seen talking about flying and gesturing wildly with their hands in a male-only crowd at the back of a bar, whereas the latino guys can generally be found relaxing on the terrace with a cuba-libre in one hand, a girl or two in the other, and are most likely talking about football and what to have for dinner. Good ACRO pilots are usually members of a "team", as they do not normally just show up at 3000ft above a beach and pull some strange stunts without an audience, where's the fun in that? The normal practice is to ensure at least two friends are watching before starting and then to land on the beach at the bottom of a spiral and proceed to do a high-five with another "team" member while shouting the "team" mantra. The mantra will usually conform to the standard of "Go Team Gonads" or some other "team" name that implies lots of adrenalin & above average sized testicles while clearly demonstrating a lack of team sports participation at a younger age. Team Pie recommends ACRO if you are Venezuelan.

TBTTGFPG, also known as Too Busy Talking To Go Flying Paragliding, is a popular sport and can be seen at sites worldwide. In colder countries the TBTTGFPG pilots can often be seen huddling together behind huts, cars and ridges while animatedly talking about a whole range of subjects including cars, football, women and occasionally the flying they did last year. In warmer countries, the very same pilots can be seen having the very same conversations, but usually in the shade of a large tree. The top TBTTGFPG pilot will often use special equipment for his sport including frisbees, baseballs and footballs, but the true professional can occasionally be seen with a large dog, thus giving a clear sign of having no intention to fly whatsoever. If at all possible the groups of TBTTGFPG pilots should be avoided, as this sport can be very addictive once you've got the hang of it. Team Pie recommends TBTTGFPG if you only started flying paragliders to get a break from the wife & kids, or as short term therapy after an accident.

TSTLRPG, also known as Too Scared to Leave the Ridge Paragliding, is a more traditional form of paragliding, in which a pilot always flies within 1.2Km of his car. The TSTLRPG pilot is usually a very accomplished ridge soarer but, surprisingly, really shows his top wing handling skills when thermals start cycling through. The pilot will allow himself to thermal up and back, although never to cloudbase, and usually no further than 0.8Km behind the ridge, where upon he will apply big-ears & bar in order to get himself back within his safety margin, approximately 250m from his car. They constantly fight the natural, instinctive impulse of simply "turning and going with it", an impulse which has left many a pilot with a long walkout and a missed supper. TSTLRPG is quite popular in colder countries where the inbred instinct to keep out of the rain is so deeply ingrained that the pilot finds himself unwilling to start an adventure for fear of getting stuck 2 hours away from his umbrella. Team Pie recommends TSTLRPG if you have to get home for dinner at 7 o'clock.

TWEYTGLWPG, also known as Thermalling While Enjoying Yourself and Trying To Go a Long Way Paragliding, or occasionally XC, is another traditional form of paragliding. In this branch of the sport a pilot who loves the mountains and wants to spend his spare time up a hill enjoying the scenery, eventually taking off and flying as far as he can, actually does so. Although quite an elusive breed, the TWEVTTGLWPG pilot is often "out on the hills flying", rather than at home fighting with technology, cables, video formats and web pages in an vain attempt to publish some shit no-one will read, to people they've never met. They can be difficult to contact as they are also known to turn their mobile phones off, as they somehow seem to know that the caller can simply wait, which was news to us at Pie, as we were unaware mobile phones could actually be turned off. The TWEYTGLWPG pilot actually enjoys the flying, enjoys the adventure and enjoys the hitch back later in the afternoon. This may seem strange to many regular pilots, but these pilots seem to talk less about flying, they hang around less on launch, and they can often be seen steadfastly walking along the side of a road with an uncomfortably heavy rucksack on their back, their thumb sticking out and a large smile on their face. Team Pie recommends TWEVTTGLWPG if you are well balanced, own more than one fleece jacket and have never read Pie in the Sky.

Take your pick.

Pie would just like to add one little snippet and quote Cowper again, "No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed", so whatever it is from this list of crazy sports that gets you out of bed in the morning, please remember, you can't spread the word so widely from a hospital bed.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1494 "Leonardo da Vinci Training Hill" videos

The new Q

Top harness manufacturer Qortel have released their new 2007 models and keen to get our bums wrapped in silky smooth neoprene we headed out to the land of the croissant to get our rear-ends pampered with the latest technology, and a good breakfast or two.

Now it's clear that France is the country to be in if you want comfort in your nether regions, as it would seem they specialise in knocking up arse holders and to be honest, after driving the rental car for an hour on their roads from Geneva airport, it soon became pretty clear why. When we arrived in SlowLaunches (Haute-Savoie) we were greated like royalty, we were given a great tour of the Qortel facilities and invited to a stunning lunch at the local Brassierie. But afterwards it was time for business, time to get our hands on these new models.

The first model we tried to test was the new Qortel "Cuddle". We'd seen it in the brochure and knew that it was designed for the flying parent, but we weren't quite expecting to be able to fly with newborn babies only 2 months old. This thing came with gadgets we couldn't even guess at. The fold-away nappy changing bench that slipped under the seat board fooled us for a while, and it had a special deodorizing sausage maker thingy that was designed to hold "soiled" nappies buried in the back where the rucksack should be. We're serious, it's no joke, it created sausages from shit-filled nappies. "It keeps the smell down", they informed us. "Yeah, right", we replied. We had calmed down a bit when they showed us the electric bottle warmer built into the side pockets, as we could understand that one, but none of us had the nuts to even touch the tit-shaped plastic pump thing hanging from the left riser. How had they tested this thing? Again we'd settled down a bit when they attached a brightly coloured chain of distracting plastic tinkling teddy-bears across the chest harness, as we'd seen these things before too. But to finish us off they then strapped the papoose thing diagonally across the chest area and told us this was where the baby goes. The bloody thing looked specifically designed to strangle you if you slipped on takeoff, as far as we could tell. To conclude then, none of us even had the balls to go closer than a metre to it as it was practically dripping hormones.

Next up, they presented us with something we could actually get our heads around. Something designed more for our mindset. The Qortel "Quicky". Now here was a tandem harness truly designed for some cross country action. Suffice it to say, just about every connection on the thing was designed to rotate 180 degrees vertically and the full 360 in the horizontal. It looked cool. Really cool. Everything on it was matte black, except a single silver logo on the back of the shoulder which simply said "Quicky?" Yeah, that cool. As chief editor, I was the closest when they asked if anyone wanted to try it, and as such, managed to just squeeze my arse in before Dave our test pilot. To say it was perfect timing for their secretary, Vanessa D'en Haut, to arrive with the afternoon coffee was to understate the current atmosphere and we noticed she left quite rapidly after putting the tray on the table. We guess she'll be sending the guy from the stores to deliver it next week when XC-Rag do their reviews. There was only one gadget that took a while to figure out and it wasn't until we discovered the on-switch in the shoulder strap, and gave poor old Dave the fright of his life, that we discovered how those kinky French dudes really like it. You've never seen a grown man exit a harness so fast in your life. Incidentally, they may be missing one or two of their demo models when they do a stock take at the end of the month.

Clearly with a couple of "Quicky's" shoved up our jumpers there was no time to review their other new models, the "Quaint" for the older pilot, and the "Quackers" a new speedriding harness. If we have time, maybe we'll return next month and complete the review, but I imagine that we'll have too much tandem piloting on over the next few weeks to squeeze it into the schedule.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1494 "Leonardo da Vinci Training Hill" videos

New Wings for Old

Stand back everyone, the new NovaX DHV 1-2 is due out on the market, so brace yourselves and don't get caught in the rush. Before you run out to get your hands on this "soon to be" winner, please read on because we've uncovered a few details that may otherwise have remained, well, err, covered.

When the rumours of an imminant release started coming in to the Pie offices, we obviously needed to get an up-close-and-personal look at it so we went down to the NovaX HQ in Innsbruck. Yes, right next to Switzerland, the home of good watches, big mountains and honorable losers who never complain when they discover that their top comp pilots are indeed the best in the world, but sadly only in booming alpine conditions or scorching flatlands, where searching for thermals involves flying straight out from takeoff and circling in anything less than a 3-up is considered a waste of time. OK, so it's not Austria, but it needed to be said, and who knows anything interesting about Austria? So.... we set up a hard-to-get interview with Hands Pampas and were well chuffed.

When we arrived at the offices and warehouse, there was clearly an argument going on upstairs, and we could just hear the end of it. I definitely heard someone shout, "...not with those fucking wankers, and that's the end of it", and then what sounded like an office door slamming shut. We were all ready to be shown a blinding array of statistics to back up a presumed increase of 0.8 in glide, but would you believe it, Hands was unavailable again and they sent some marketing tosser to talk to us instead. Well, beggars can't be choosers, so we said, "Please talk to us, Mr Marketing Tosser, we're begging you". Luckily he did.

"Ve've been innovating ziss vinter", he began with a slight accent, "but first let me ask you zomezink. Put yourself in zee pozition of a potential buyer, right, you're lookink vor a good walue 1-2 vrom a top manufacturer, vizz top performance and vithout a hefty price tag. Vat do you buy?".

The embarrasing silence continued as he simply stared at us. He obviously really wanted us to answer and before we could stop ourselves we just blurted out the truth. "Err, a two year old Mamboo?", we said. And then he hit us with it.

"Exactly, meine Freunde's", he said, "A 2 year old Mamboo, and zat's vot ve've been vorking on. Ve have developed special manufacturing techniques to give zee vings a 2 year old look, but still using brand new materials. Zey really look like vings viz 50-100 hours on zem and yet have have zat "well cared for & not left out in the sun" appearance. Zee hardest part haz been zee insertion of zee sand and zee dust in zee seams, but ve've cracked zat now. They're brand new and people know that, it's just like zem 501 jeans, you know?".

"What?. Nah, that's bollocks", we thought, and just as we were about to launch into a tirade of abuse based on the fact that we simply didn't believe him, he invited us to have a look around the test production-line they'd set up, and sure as eggs come from chickens, they really were making 2-year old wings. Straight off the production line. Our journalistic noses were twitching though, everything just didn't add up. Something simply didn't smell right. Now, we're not manufacturers, but you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand a production line. You take lots of individual pieces, join them together in a very clever way and bingo, a product. Now there we were at at the start of the production line, but where were all the components? We could see hundreds of metres of new line, but where was the rest? Where were the rolls of material for example? All we could see were pieces of packaging material lying around on the floor, as if boxes had been opened here. There were a few remnants of DHL packing tape & parts of FedEx labels lying about. You could almost make out details on some of them, "...ttoo S, red, UK". No. Surely not. They wouldn't. Not NovaX. Mind you we thought, we've heard rumours that certain other manufacturers have been doing it for years, and it would explain the large delays between announcement and release that have been occuring here at NovaX recently.

"So", we said, adopting a casual stance, "What about the Ta-Two replacement, the Are-A, why have you only released one size?". You had to look closely, but you could actually see the sweat on his forehead freezing before your very eyes. Bingo. He smoothly replied with remarks about Monaco being shut and not enough places to test in Europe and the DHV being strict with the weather conditions and the winter being really wierd this year and global warming being an overiding factor and that there aren't enough months ending in the letter S, etc, but we knew we were onto something, we just knew it. We knew, and he knew that we knew, and we knew that he knew that we knew. Oh yes, it was staring time again, and this time we weren't going to come second.

After a few moments of silence he lead us over to a small room at the end of the offices and asked us to step inside. He closed the door behind us and dropped the blinds. He looked us all straight in the eye, one by one, and said, "None of this goes outside this room right", startling us with his perfect english.

As we nodded our heads, he began, "Well, let me tell you something about the aerofoil designs that sit on top of these new 3-riser, reduced line wings that are hitting the market these days"

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1494 "Leonardo da Vinci Training Hill" videos

The Slow Start

RUMOURS CAME into the Pie offices recently that in Britain it can take upwards of 5 years to learn to fly due to the weather conditions and other factors. Pie would like to offer an open piece of advice to the entire free-flying community to ensure this sort of thing stops immediately. Applicable to so many areas of our beloved sport, we feel this advice could be useful to instructors and schools worldwide. Feel free to use this as your school or club slogan if you wish.

"Get off your fucking lazy arse and get out there and just fucking do it, or shut up and learn knitting".

"Always happy to help", is this months Pie motto, you know.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1494 "Leonardo da Vinci Training Hill" videos

The Silent Treatment

THE 21ST century is beginning to provide us with new technologies already, technologies that just 10 years ago we could only have dreamed of. Mobile phones that can play youTube videos, handheld PDA's that are more useful than a paper & pen and cameras with millions of pixels the size of a matchbox. Ingenious, clever, technological things. Things that are totally useless in the grand scale of things, but none the less things that look really good in matte silver. That was until we recieved an anonymous magazine article about the things that are giving new life to the old flying lawnmowers.

Powered paragliders are going electric, we're told. Well, that's not a bad thing we thought, and after a quick show of hands in the Pie offices we concluded that maybe we'd have a go on one if they actually didn't make that racket. Obviously, we all agreed that we would never buy one, but we'd have a lash at it all the same. After further thought, we also realised that here at Pie, we might have to tone down the humour with respect to PPGs too, let's face it, if the bloody things hardly make a sound we can't really see a problem with them anymore. So we set off to find out how this technology was coming along, how they worked, when might they be available and whether we would have to change our editorial slant in the future.

We spent $9000 on flight tickets to visit the worlds biggest players in the PPG market and have a chat with the designers and developers. Unfortunately, 20 minutes into the first interview and we'd lost track of the theory they were explaining to us and had inadvertantly started asking about the colour schemes they were planning. We never quite understood what a direct drive was or why you needed to brush your engine, and clearly we'd been mistaken for years in our belief that Lithium was a ladies bath soap and that Poly Mer was a Disney cartoon character. Most importantly, though, we were disappointed to discover that they aren't silent, they still weigh a ton and it was nothing like the pocket-sized gadget we had been expecting. So we left. 5 minutes later we'd cancelled our other interviews as we'd completely gone off the whole stupid idea of PPG'ing. We had simply realised that we still didn't want to fly with all that crap on our back, whether it was powered by gas, electric, coal or nuclear reactor, although we did resolve to try again in 10 years when it all folds neatly into a container the size of a reserve compartment.

All was not lost as we had two things going for us, positive attitudes and a shit load of airline tickets in our pockets, so we re-routed our flights to get a weeks free-flying in Marshall where we had a great time with the locals and had some very relax thermic flying. We then headed down to some of the valleys on the Mexico border and posted some more superb distance flights. We then started our journey home, although not directly, as we organised a 2 day stop-over in Vegas where, sadly, we lost most of our cash. We also squeezed in a long weekend in Amsterdam, where the only electric powered gadgets we saw here seemed to be specifically designed to induce noises, and vibrations were deemed a bonus. We then rapidly lost the rest of our cash during a 36 hour visit to "Hansje's Pay for what you Smoke" coffee house.

Back home again with no money, but surrounded by open spaces and big hills, we concluded the only silent thing in our PPG flying would be the first P.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1494 "Leonardo da Vinci Training Hill" videos

Manilla 2007 Mini-Special

Editorial - edited

Pie in the Sky would like to offer our heartfelt congratulations to all "Worlds" competitors for displaying great skill and determination in what turned out to be a difficult competition. We would like to specifically congratulate the winners, Bruce Goldsmith, Petra Slivova and the rest of the Czech Team in your success. Well done. We would also like to take this opportunity to congratulate the competition organisers for organising what seems to have been a trouble free and generally safe competition and for keeping the rest of the world updated in a timely manner.

Well done, one and all, and thanks for showing us mortals how the top-dogs do it.

Editorial - less edited

Please note, however, that we will continue to take the piss out of any & all of you from here on in as, quite frankly, we've got nothing better to do. It is quite likely that particular attention will be paid to Bruce Goldmedal and Petra Slipup over the next few issues, so don't say we didn't warn you. After all, you're the best in the world and if you can handle those bloody prototype wings, this should be fucking childsplay.

Those shites over at XC-Rag have come in at the last minute and wrecked our book deal, by out-bidding us for Bruce's upcoming memoires, "The Fucking Long Glide to Goal". Just to set the record straight, we thought of it first and it would seem that it's only money these comp bastards are interested in, not like the good old days, eh, Bruce?

Anyway, no use crying over spilt milk, and we won't be holding a grudge, especially not against some glossy jazz mag. So, here's a couple of rib ticklers to tide you over till the end of the month.

(Chief Ed)

Doin' a Bruce

Looking for a way to accurately describe the last few days, we broke out the dictionary here in the Pie offices and dug up a few little known gems:

Bruce: noun	as in: "Hey, Bruce mate"
	(1) a popular christian name.
	(2) an anchor used by floating oil rigs.
	(3) King of Scotland from 1306 to 1329.
	(4) Australian physician and bacteriologist.
	(5) slang for "Fine German Precision", especially relating to automobiles.
	(6) the 2007 World Paragliding Champion.
Doing a Bruce:	as in: "Hey mate, look, I'm doin' a Bruce"
	(1) attaching an anchor to a floating oil rig.
	(2) kicking the crap out of the English at Bannockburn.
	(3) dreaming up some new cretinous device for lazy BMW drivers.
	(4) whippin' 150 other competitors, half of which are 20 years younger than you.
	(5) flippin' a finger at a nation through the gratuitous use of a christian name.
	(6) winning the 10th FAI Paragliding World Championships.
To Bruce up:	as in: "I'm going to Bruce up, mate"
	(1) to give the kitchen a quick tidy.
	(2) to enhance the performance of a lawnmower.
	(3) to sharpen your Swiss Army Knife.
	(4) to compete in a free-flying competition while flying a wing you designed yourself and proceed to beat the competition while flying it.
Brucin' it up:	as in: "Stand back mate, I'm Brucin' it up"
	(1) to have a good time.
	(2) an Australian outdoor party.
	(3) to go to a party wishing you were back home waiting for the cuckoo clock to wake you up.
	(4) to dance and sing the night away, when normally you would be tucked up in bed with a cup of cocoa.
To be Bruced:	as in: "Christ mate, I've been Bruced"
	(1) to slip unexpectedly.
	(2) to trip in an awkward manner.
	(3) to lose your Swiss Bank Account number.
	(4) to compete in a free-flying competition and to mess up the first task enough to allow a chick and an old guy flying a wing he knocked up himself to get ahead of you, eventually win the competition and leave you feeling like you missed your opportunity.
Brucin' on:	as in: "Yeah mate, he just Brucin' on"
	(1) to be consistant.
	(2) to soldier on relentlessly.
	(3) to not fuck it up on the first task.
	(4) to demonstrate consistantly good piloting skills while enduring difficult conditions over a period of 13 days, and having over 20 years of piloting experience to draw upon when facing those challenges.

Brucin' it up

There once was a man from Greolieres,

Who went to the comp without cares,

Although getting old,

He came home with the gold,

And the rest were left looking like spares.

There once was girl call Petra,

Who didn't have that little bit extra,

All they could see was her crack,

As she was leading the pack,

So they resorted to cutting her Spectra.

There once was a man without fears,

Who was older than most in his years,

The Swiss had to ask,

About the first task,

As he left poor old Maurer in tears.

Ba-boom.

Pie in the Sky
So funny you'll forget your legstraps