The Carbon Issue

WE'RE ALL fully aware of the footprint we leave on this planet and that we might be leaving behind a mess for our children and our children's children. And our children's children's children. And our children's children's children's children. And their kids. So it was with some considerable pleasure that we watched over the past year as the paragliding manufacturers groped around with this issue and came to terms with how they can protect their future.

It was one of the manufacturers in France that first decided to tackle the Carbon issue. Of course, we're not particularly surprised in this day and age of media hype and jingoism that it was a bunch of ex-anglo, cheese-eating surrender monkeys that came up with the idea. What did come as a surprise though, was their company name. Amazingly it's as environmentally friendly as you can get, so it's no wonder that Blozone were the first to dive in, so to speak.

Clearly we'd need to get out there and talk to them. These boys are setting new ground here, and us boys at Pie want to get on it and get some facts. Oh, and obviously we take our environment seriously too. Oh yes indeedy.

"So, Rusty. Tell us. What made you guys start thinking about the carbon issue?", we prodded gently at the only test-pilot not quite fast enough to run away when we approached.

"It was a performance issue initially", he started. "You see, we felt that the introduction of carbon would give us that extra rigidity that we'd been desperately looking for. For ages now we've all been stealing the big Gib's idea, but we've all been quite desperately trying different ideas too. No more trips down the Centre de Jardin looking for bright red cable ties for us now! Finally we had an idea of our own! Carbon. We love it!"

"You love carbon? How can this be environmentally friendly? You'll have to explain that again Russo", we asked. We were lost really, we just didn't get it.

"Look guys, we're winning everything. I mean everything. What's even better is that we're winning without the carbon too. We just don't need it yet. It's great! Lucky-Luke left his gps-vario in the hotel by accident during the last comp and he still spanked the Adwance boys. His old 76S tracklog showed a whole point glide over Chrigel Mullets proto".

"Even you tossers at Pie could probably walk away with a trophy if you showed up with one of our two-liners", he said laughingly.

We could live with the fact we might not have fully understood the Carbon story, but suggesting that we would stoop so low as to enter comps just to win was too much. Before we left the factory Rusty Ogler took us round the back and showed us the new two-line technologies and how they had developed. It became pretty clear we'd misunderstood what they were up to. We were disappointed. We'd hoped to find a company keen to reduce its carbon footprint, but had found the opposite. In fact the only plus we could see was the saving of the third set of lines and a few hundred cable ties.

On the flight home the mood was quite sombre to say the least. We took out our HB pencils and sharpened them slowly in deep contemplation of what this meant. No-one gave a damn about the environment, the Carbon issue was really about selling more wings to more pilots and nothing more sophisticated than that. Shit!

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1972 "Robert Livingston Seagull patio door" accident

Speed Bars

FOR MANY years we have known about this issue and many pilots have tried and failed to find, or develop, a solution. Let's face it, your average pilot has issues with his speedbar. Not the sort of issues that involve a psychiatrists couch or a short-term prison sentence, the sort of issues that involve fumbling about with your left hand while holding both brake handles in your right. That's right, getting your speedbar out. How do we do it? Can it be made easier? And how can you not put yourself in mortal danger by faffing about at what is one of the most critical moments of any flight. Great, we thought, let's get out there and find out what people are doing and see if we can't help find a better solution... a Pie solution.

Our first port of call was Iceland. Yes, Iceland. Pilots flying in high wind use their speedbar more, they'll probably have a good idea what to do we thought. After checking Google maps to find out where it was, we booked our tickets and eventually landed at Kevlaffik International Money Laundering Terminal and headed East looking for some action. After contacting local guru Björn Björkitup we found ourselves on Hafrafell, the only place on the island with two L's. After two days we came down and jetted off to the Alps where, hopefully, we would find some pilots whose idea of using a speedbar actually involved getting it out the rucksack and not simply sitting around huddled together for warmth for a day or two in howling gales and driving rain.

Sitting on Montmin, we found ourselves watching pilots from every corner of the globe simply doing their own version of the same routine. Wriggling around like 14 year old virgins on a first date 12.5 seconds after takeoff, desperately trying to hook the speedbar with a foot, a hand, a bit of string and in one elderly pilots case, his walking stick.

Then we met Jean-Pierre.

"Jean-Pierre, nice of you to spend the time to show us your ideas", said newly recruited Pie reporter Björn Björkitup.

"Allo-allo", he said in slightly accented English, "It's nice to 'ave zomeone to talk zem zrough wizz"

"Indeed. So what's so special about your system?", we enquired.

"Well, it's so simple, you zee. It izzz amazin' zat no-one 'as zought of eet befour. It's zee zimple application of a littel velcro in zee private places and it's always to hand". He continued, "Ze velcro on zee speedbar simply attaches to zee front of your flight suit or your pantz and after clippin' in you just push zee speedbar on to your wazzzer and you are sorted, zo to speak"

He went on, "After takeoff you simply give your weener a thrust forward and zee bar drops gently onto zee shins where it eez always available for zee rest of zee flight, you zee?" Standing up, he demonstrated the detachment technique with a well practiced French thrust of the hips and the bar fell straight off his crotch and into place. Impressive! We could imagine the French and Italian pilots taking to this like ducks to water, although we imagined take-up might be more slow in, say, Germany or Austria.

Keen to give it a try Björn hooked himself in, velcro'd himself up and launched himself into the somewhat thermic air that is Annecy. The Chief Editor and Jean-Pierre naturally choosing to retire to the bar in Forclaz to await the test results over a remarkably unremarkable Chablis. Imagine our surprise, however, when 3 hours later Björn approached us hobbling quite painfully up the road with the assistance of our hired retrieve driver and with what can only be described as a look of "lost faith" on his face.

Declining a seat at the table and preferring to stand for some reason, he regaled us with a short story of pain, lost pubic hair, French-Icelandic translations for the word vertical, ripped flight suits, broken speedbars and dented pride. He even made us a quick sketch to illustrate how he would have been much happier wriggling around like a 14 year-old virgin as opposed to losing his virginity to a SoupAir Slider harness and a Blozone PopUp Speedbar at 1500m in a 7-up.

As you might imagine, after 3 hours of French wine and cheese we were, perhaps, too sympathetic to poor Björn upon which he tendered his resignation in return for the two extra cushions from our seats. A story to make your eyes water, perhaps you'd agree, but nothing gets between Pie and good research. For the cost of an economy ticket from Geneva to Rekjavik and a jar of vaseline, we've certainly got the new season of Pie testing off to a great start.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1972 "Robert Livingston Seagull patio door" accident

Missing presumed ...

WELL IT rather seems that they just won't let us die in peace. Thanks to a few emails landing in the dusty editorial in-tray here at Pie we've had our arm twisted into putting together a new team. A dynamic group of individuals, keen to race up the slopes of journalism and launch themselves into the stormy leeside abyss that is satire, are throwing together wit at a level unseen before in the world of paragliding journalism. Maybe.

The cobwebs have been cleaned from the printing presses, the dried ink bottles replaced with the latest liquid-ink ballpoints and the vintage Remington thrown out and replaced with the latest in golfball electric typewriters. We're keeping the stupid barcode logo though, so shove it. [err... enough of the bullshit, where's the funny stuff? - Ed]

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1972 "Robert Livingston Seagull patio door" accident

Tuesday Twaddle Two

with apologies to XC-Mag

(original)

Pie in the Sky

So funny you'll forget your legstraps

Friday Freebie

 

with apologies to XC-Mag

(original)

Pie in the Sky

So funny you'll forget your legstraps

Long Haul

(thoughts on travelling by Bill Bryson's wind dummy)

SO YOU'VE arrived. You're on holiday. You've finally made it to that paragliding paradise at long last after 3 months of painful waiting and all those long weeks surfing the net and staring at the photos. If the truth be told, some nights you've even fallen asleep dreaming of getting here. This year, yet again, you've chosen the perfect location for your level of flying and the type of distances you want to do. This years gadget is safely tucked away in the rucksack, all shiny and new, and you even brought the manual just in case configuring it gets a bit too complicated. Over the last couple of weeks you've had your wing serviced and the reserve repacked, even the batteries in your instruments are brand new. Everything is in order. Things don't get any better than this. Life is sweet.

Stepping off the bus you sense a change in the air though. Phew, it sure is colder up these hills than it was in the city, but that's ok, you'll be used to it in an hour you tell yourself. You tie your fleece around your waste, throw your rucksack on your back and with a quick check of the hand-drawn map from the fly-guide you head off down the road. You're striding out purposefully, keen to get there. You're keen to get that first flight this evening, even though it'll only be an evening float, nothing special, it'll be the perfect opportunity to clean out the cobwebs and get a feel for the new geography. While striding down the road you take the opportunity to get a good look at the village, your new home for a week or so. It sure is a beautiful little place and the locals always look so relaxed, nothing like back home. Your mind races ahead as you look at the lifestyle the locals must have. If only you could make a decent living here, sufficient income to upgrade a DHV-2 every couple of years. You're thinking fast now. It's an option, you could do it, there's nothing to stop you, you'd milk goats for a living if it paid well enough. You would, you swear you would. It's only work and think of the benefits of living in such a relaxed environment with all that great flying on hand, it would be paradise. You promise yourself that you'll give it more thought later in the week. Right now though, you need to find that fly-guide and get up those mountains for that evening flight. Your stride lengthens as you press on.

You pass a bar and notice a couple of paragliding posters inside the door. Wow, you've found it already. This is clearly where you'll be spending a couple of hours every night swapping stories with your new flying buddies over 2 or 3 glasses of the local beer this week. Nice cold beers too, not like the usual stuff back home. Maybe you won't like it at first, but it'll grow on you and by Tuesday you'll wonder why you thought it tasted funny when you first tried it. In fact you can almost taste it right now, cool & refreshing, washing away the dust of a good days flying. Rounding the last corner on the little map you see the house you're looking for. You dig deeper. Your head droops. You're almost charging up the road now. You're full of excitement and enthusiasm now, maybe even a touch of adrenaline is beginning to flow from the shear anticipation of getting up those mountains in an hour or so. You lift your head and your eyes wander up to the hills where you see a steady flow of light cloud. They're nothing to worry about, you say, almost out loud. Even though they seem to move differently than the clouds you're used to, they don't look threatening and they're probably there every day. You'll quickly understand them, you know it, and the fly-guide will confirm all your ideas, he lives here, he flies with them every day. You force yourself to look away from the hills, you're only 50m away now. Then it happens.

Unexpected and without warning a wall of water hits you. No! Not now! Oh yes. It's pissing down. Right here, right now, 50m from the front door. It's not just light rain either, this is a downpour. Where did it come from? You didn't see any base cloud coming over or any of the normal warnings, this seems to have appeared from nowhere, there wasn't even a light shower preceding it or anything. Put quite simply, it has suddenly and quite obviously started wazzing it down. You run straight up to the front door of the house but it doesn't help much, you're soaked already and your rucksack is dripping.

Banging on the door to get them to let you in won't help much either. You know it. Yeah, maybe it'll get you out the rain, maybe you can dry your rucksack before it soaks in, but that's not what's worrying you. It doesn't help to ease the shear dread that's creeping up your spine. This isn't the first time this has happened is it? You know. Deep down in your heart, you just know. It isn't going to stop for 4 days.

This holiday, just like every holiday, is time off work. Time off work, that valuable commodity, something you don't have much of, so maybe you should turn around now and use these valuable days elsewhere. Maybe you could head to the coast or down south or even get another cheap flight somewhere else. Let's face it, you could be back at the airport in 3 hours. But you won't, will you? You can't, all those sundrenched photos you've been staring at for 3 months are telling you that tomorrow it'll break and then you'll be flying those XC's that you came here for. Will it break? Will you still be thinking these thoughts in 3 days while drinking coffee and watching the rain out of the kitchen window? The almost forgotten painful memory of last years trip where it didn't start raining until 3 days into your holiday come rushing back. At least last year you had the chance to get a feel for the conditions and get comfortable in the big air before your holiday was ruined.

When he opens the door... if he says it... you swear you'll hit him.

The door opens, and a smiling face greats you and shakes your hand. Before you is a man who's clearly happy with his life, he looks relaxed and comfortable and is genuinely pleased to meet you. Oh no, he did it, he glanced over your shoulder. He checked. God, he's going to say it.

"Hi, come on in. Do you fancy a coffee?", he says in slightly broken english, "What luck, eh? You know, this is the first rain we've seen in 2 months. You should have been here last week. Classic conditions."

"Black with two sugars, please", is all you can manage.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1968 "Neil Armstrong missing ladder" gag" videos

Book Review

ALWAYS HAPPY to review new paragliding products as part of our service to the flying community, Pie were chuffed to receive a pre-publication copy of the latest paragliding book. Top author Ian "Hot Wings" Curry, famous co-author of the timeless classic "Touching Cloudbase: Guiding a Complete Paraglider", a classic free-flight introduction on most pilots shelves since the early 90's, has decided to add another book to our list of "top reads".

This time, Ian has teamed up with top SIV & XC guru Sandy Jockstrap to write the new book with a preliminary title "Touching Cloth: Guiding a Complete Tosser" and is tentatively aimed at the novice XC pilot and those wishing to take their first tentative steps away from the ridge.

We tracked Ian down with plans to publish an interview alongside our book review, but he told us to "piss off". He said he'd heard all about us and wanted nothing to do with a bunch of unethical shysters who only print bullshit. He said he was a professional author and we could shove it. As you well know, it takes more than mere insults to keep a Pie journalist down, so we flew to Turkey, where "The Jockster", as he likes to be known, had never heard of us and was more than happy to sit down and talk. This was lucky really as we rapidly realised that "The Strapster" was the man we should have been speaking to all along. A true mediteranean superstar. Not some grey Brit with a baggy jumper & wellies who moves onto kites & windsurfers as soon as he's bored with our fantastic sport.

"So, Strap, how's it hangin?", we started.

"Good question, matey", he said. "Oh yeah, the book. Right. Well, Ian did all the writing really but the new publishers suggested he bring in someone with a face that's known in the industry to help sell a couple more thousand copies. So tell me, did you bring your trunks? Come on, let's have a swim".

So, back we went to the UK and begged Ian for an interview, but he wasn't having any of it. He even threatened to phone the police if we didn't leave him alone. So, apologies readers, it looks like the review will have to stand by itself.

The book itself is ok with a nice cover pic of "The Sandster" upside-down in his harness and the contents page is really well layed out. There were some more pictures somewhere in the middle with a few colour photos of "The Jock" standing up in his harness and some others shots of hills with arrows on the top of them. A couple more seemed to show some villages in valleys with funny, hand-drawn arrows shaped like chimneys, and there was one funny looking diagram of the "atmosphere", whatever that is, with a few wavy lines all over it. We've never seen these things while flying so they probably aren't that important. It most certainly discusses thermalling because Chapter 3 is titled "How to Thermal", and the XC stuff is probably in the last 2 chapters respectively titled "Landing Out" & "Dining Out", but we're not sure we never got that far.

In conclusion, it's quite a good book with a blue cover. We liked it, although it could do with more pictures, and as far as we're concerned it's a keeper. It's definitely staying on our bookshelves. Quite frankly, after the way the authors have treated us, we're damned if we're sending it back.

Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1968 "Neil Armstrong missing ladder" gag" videos