bingreed

If only I was called Dave... *slightly* restricted market? Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

Can't wait to HEAR the video of the engine running... Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

In my (limited) experience Aerofix offer an excellent, reliable service; I wouldn't go anywhere else. Regarding turnaround I have found them flexible, but they do get busy so turnaround times can vary. Best advice is give them a call, they're always happy to guide you through the process and I have found that once they commit to a timescale they stick to it or beat it.

Hmph, stupid YouTube Try this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeWqAWAQ ... ata_player Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

I have decided to invest in a new helmet, and seek a little advice about air vents and ear protection. From the outset I’m not going down the radio communication route this time, I only plan to listen to MP3 music for the time being. Regarding air vents, how much difference do they really make? For the sake of this question I’m comparing the Icaro TZ with the Icaro Fly UL (both similarly priced with ear protection), but would be drawn to the Fly UL if the vents make a noticeable difference to comfort in warmer weather. Regarding the ear protection, it appears either Icaro helmet can be supplied with Peltor III earmuffs. But, though this set-up will definitely serve me well, and is infinitely better than what I’m used to, my attention has been drawn to sound cancelling, helmet mounted muffs like the NoiseBusters. http://noisebuster.net/hard-hat-cap-mount-features.html The first question is: would these (or something similar) offer a notable improvement in noise isolation compared to the Peltor III’s in the real world? FYI I fly a Bailey fourstroke. The second question: are the clips that attach muffs to helmets universal (will either fit?) And the third question: is the sound quality of the included 3.5mm jack earphones in the NoiseBusters even worth bothering with??? I’m leaning towards the TZ with Peltor III’s and decent in-ear buds (currently use SoundMagic E30’s which are amazing...) but would like to do a bit of homework before committing. Plus, of course, and suggestions where I should buy from would be much appreciated! Thanks in advance, Bx

Well it’s been a while, have you got a couple of minutes while I update my training/learning/experience blog? Although to be honest from the start, there hasn’t been any further training, but I’ve learnt and experienced lots... Since my last posts in April I have been lucky enough to log a further twelve flights. I feel getting in the air on average once a fortnight isn’t too bad, carefully threaded as these flights have been between the priorities of family and work, and the vagaries of the Great British weather. More time off terra firma would be better, of course, but I constantly remind myself that this is twelve more glorious experiences that the vast majority of people can even dream of achieving. We few are truly blessed Not everything has gone strictly to plan, of course; I can add a further five or six occasions where, despite sincere and prolonged attempts by yours truly I have failed to get off the ground. Sometimes these failures can be attributed to the weather, more often they were caused by a distinct lack of ability on my part. However, “failures” is the wrong word; I have always learnt something, always enjoyed my time in the field, and always packed up in the fading light looking forward to the next opportunity to do it all again. I have restricted myself to evening flights throughout the summer, though this has been no guarantee of gentle conditions. On one warm summers evening I noticed the wind at takeoff was a little variable, though little more than a breeze; indeed, there was only just enough for a reverse launch. But once up to around 1000’ AGL I was being rocked and rolled more than I had ever experienced: the first and only time I didn’t enjoy being in the air. Having quickly decided to return back to the field I noticed the windsock was near horizontal, nothing like it had been a few moments ago. Yet still the sky appeared entirely non-threatening. On reflection, and thankfully back on the ground, I have absolutely no doubt I was safe, and that my trusty Revo2 was well within comfortable performance parameters, but it was a shock to the system to learn how variable conditions can become, even without obvious symptoms. Perhaps significantly the weather broke down later that evening, with building wind and rain moving in from the West. Note to self: beware snatching a late flight in just before a weather window closes Then there was the occasion when I found myself in the air with one riser twisted 360 degrees. I won’t bother you with the reasons why – suffice to say I know exactly how it happened and I know I will never allow it to ever happen again... but (he said, desperately grasping for a silver lining to a very dark cloud) I calmly managed a rapidly emerging situation, brought her back around and landed safely in the original field. No point beating myself up over it, but a serious lesson learned from what turned out to be my shortest flight to date: [youtubevideo] [/youtubevideo] While we’re confessing our sins, I should also purge myself of some hardware issues, namely one new prop courtesy of Morgy (classic “I think I’m up... I’m definitely up.... I’m not definitely up........ I’m definitely not up..... oh look, I’m ploughing...”) and one failed forward launch resulting in a relatively minor wing repair by Aerofix. Hey ho. But for all the angst, concern, frustration and expense these occasions caused, they are all part of my own particular learning curve. With hindsight they were avoidable, or at least predictable, and if I (or you) might learn something from them, then they were certainly not entirely wasted. And for every moment of angst, concern or frustration there has been a hundred or more of exhilaration, wonder, excitement, glory, pride, amazement and (on occasion) uncontrollable giggling. I feared the novelty might wear off, that the thrill of defeating gravity might become less amazing or even “normal”, but not a chance. Flying at 2500’ over Mid-Suffolk at the weekend I could see the Blackwater at Mersea, the Colne, Stour, Orwell, Deben and Alde. I could see the cranes at Felixstowe and Sizewell, the beet factory at Bury St Edmunds, wind turbines at Eye and right along the main runway at RAF Wattisham. I looked down on the 1000’ Mendlesham mast, how many people can say they’ve done that? But finding my place, both geographically and metaphorically, is only part of this joyous experience. I also saw my friend Jimmy lifting sugar beet, another friend Clare exercising her horse, and my best friend and wife Lucy and our children jumping and waving excitedly; these experiences are life-affirming and these memories will be life-long So what’s next? There’s so much more to see and so much more to learn; I’ve only flown away from home territory once, so I guess the next level of experience will be exploring new areas. Also, to date I have only ever flown on my own; with the exception of my very first flight under the watchful eye of Alex Anderson, every subsequent set-up, safety check, takeoff, flight and landing has been solo. Although I’m rather an introvert, and a shy one at that, and the solitude of flying is one of the factors that initially attracted me to paramotoring, I know I will experience and learn more by meeting up with similarly minded people. I also (rather reluctantly) acknowledge that flying with others will offer some reassurance that my kit and techniques remain safer – which may address those niggles that I’m missing something obvious and life-threatening... On the hardware front the Paramania Revo2 remains the correct wing for me, and I have never regretted investing in it, not for a second. The wing performs faultlessly and, for any given conditions, is much better at flying that I am. I look forward to the day when it doesn’t meet my needs, but that day is a long way off right now. I’m also very happy with my trusty Bailey 175, which is proving both stronger and more reliable than its owner. She is now showing nearly 75 hours, but with regular maintenance (and paranoid oil changes) just doesn’t miss a beat. However one day, before too long, I would ideally upgrade to a newer machine offering more thrust; I simply cannot lose weight and remain steadfastly and stubbornly rooted to “somewhere slightly North” of 15 stone. Takeoff and climb out can be rather a long affair, particularly in light winds of course, and a little more oomph wouldn’t go amiss... though quite how I’ll finance such an upgrade remains not dissimilar to Churchill’s “riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”. So to summarise, paramotoring has become everything I dared hope for, and more: I’ve got my very own personalised “Google Earth” and I’m utterly addicted to browsing. Fly Safe, Bob x Disclaimer: Paramotoring is inherently dangerous without suitable training and/or huge balls of steel. Paramotors can go down as well as up. Don’t run with scissors. (If you’ve been affected by any of the above and would like to talk to somebody in confidence, call Alex Anderson of Foot Flight Paramotors on 07957 870837).

For what it's worth, definitely recommend Alex at Foot Flight Paramotors, Rayne. Top man, very patient & understanding (see my "Bob Bites the Bullet" training blog) Good Luck!

It lives! Well done Simon et al, sounds like you've had a nightmare. Please be assured all your hard work is much appreciated... Gawd I've missed this forum! Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

Enjoyed a cold & breezy flight before sundown last night, and as usual captured the whole event on my helmet-mounted GoPro Hero2. Only I didn't, because upon landing I discovered a "SD Full" message on the display. Reviewing the footage this morning I discover the camera stopped filming after 10 minutes... grrrrrrrrrrr The thing is, the card is still half empty. Which raises the question, what is the maximum SD card size a GoPro Hero2 can utilise??? FYI the card I was using is 8gb. There was already some content on there, but it has stopped recording when the total card content got to 4gb. Why can't my camera utilise the full 8gb??? Any advice would be much appreciated... Thanks, Bob Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

I've had similar problems with a conflict, but generally have them sorted now. Glad to report no pain though! I strap the throttle on first (obviously) and tight enough so I can completely relax my hand without my subconcious worrying about it "falling off". It has taken some getting used to, but now is second nature. The throttle I operate with just my two small fingers. The brake I initially locate across all four fingers, not by the handle (the bottom of the triangle) but by one of the sides, with the brake line facing upwards towards the wing. I carefully "tuck it" behind the throttle so that it doesn't easily move in the excitement of a launch. However, I'm careful to position the brake so that I can always contact the kill-switch with my thumb in the event of an abort. So both throttle and brake are quite snuggly fitted to my hand so that I can't easily drop either. Of course, once airborne I can free the brake handle and operate with just a finger or two, or park the brake safely on the riser. To add the final confusion, of course in a forward launch I need to hook the A's with my thumb too. These are very carefully positioned so as to be completely free, but also tucked out of the way enough should I need to kill the motor and abort before even getting the wing up overhead... With practice it is becoming second nature - I've found what works for my sized hands and winter gloves - but I agree it is not natural at first, and there's very little guidence (except my long suffering instructor...)

I got into one hell of a tangle at the weekend, having landed my wing on a hawthorn hedge (don't ask...). Quickly learnt it would be impossible to sort in the field - even the slightest breeze hindered progress, I was quickly making it worse not better - so I stuffed the mess into my bag and borrowed a large shed. Out of the wind I hung the wing up high by the A lines the full length along a wall, so the whole wing opened up, then slowly, painstakingly started to unpick the spaghetti. The key was finding loops, then pulling them through; often releasing one loop would free up another two. Luckily the left/right sides weren't too tangled together, so it was just a case of systematically working from the riser to the wing, gradually making it better and better. Once the A's we're clear I moved to the B's, which didn't take half as long. Surprising how quickly things unravelled once a couple of tight tangles were released by just one or two loops. My golden rule: it was untangled an hour ago, so it must be possible to untangle it again. Tempted though I was to start removing lines, I knew the dangers involved and that, once I'd started I'd end up removing the whole damned lot! And if you pass the whole riser through some lines, and it appears to make the tangle worse, go back a step. Common sense (unless you're sitting in a tangle mess weeping, in which case common sense can quickly go out the window!) Having the wing up on the wall helped hugely; I could hold the riser up and visualise the rows of lines. Sure this isn't textbook but it worked for me. Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

Didn't know there was a 175 v2 - is this with the crankshaft bearing fix? Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

Just stumbled across this slightly worrying thread.... does anyone know if he's still alive??? Sent from my iPad using PMC Forum mobile app

Awww... thank you all for your kind comments I've said it before on here and elsewhere, and I'll say it again: I found a number of Training Blogs, and "Pete's Progress" in particular, HUGELY motivating. I read it again and again as I first dreamt about flying, then throughout my training. So if, in turn, my ignorant mutterings encourage someone else to follow their own dream, even in some small intangible way, then it's A Very Good Thing Indeed. Plus, if nothing else, it reminds me of the progress I've made on my own little journey, and the mistakes I've made along the way! And, for the record, none of this would've been possible without Mike Nunn & more laterly Alex Anderson at Foot Flight Paramotors near Braintree, Essex. These gentlemen helped me become a pilot, I owe them so much. Still lots to learn though, so still lots to write about going forwards.... hope to catch some of you in a breezy field somewhere soon! I particularly hope to meet Pete and fly with him soon, he's not a million miles away. Fly Safe, good people x

Time for an update... How nice it would be to regale with stories of daring and adventure, countless fulfilling flights enjoyed as one with my machine, reaching new heights both physical and metaphorical. To have soared in the heavens.... BUMP. Back to reality it’s meteorological Groundhog Day: sleet, freezing temperatures and this incessant wind, day after day after day. I understood when I bit the bullet that paramotoring would be governed by that most fickle of mistresses, The British Weather, but little could anyone predict just how frickin’ long we would have to wait for even one flyable day to coincide with a weekend However... xcweather.com suggested a potential opportunity; it was a Tuesday, but a carefully planned work appointment near home could bring me within a stone’s throw of my takeoff field, and with a bit of delicate jiggery-pokery I might just liberate a two hour window between knocking-off and sunset.... As the day in question dawned the weather looked less than friendly, but throughout the day it improved and by the time I left the appointment it looked just about ideal! Operation Sneaky Bonus Flight: GO! The car was already packed with all my kit, so it was straight to Uncle David’s wheat field. The wind was steady but not strong enough for a reverse launch, so I took an extra moment to set-up a perfect wing for a forward. Careful pre-flight checks (no cutting corners) then gently warm the engine before a couple of full-power checks. Must... keep... focussed.... anticipation is good, frustration is bad and desperation is downright dangerous! Rely on your training to bring everything together. As I wandered towards the wing I was struck by how many separate items have to come together at the same time to allow a safe flight: sure, the weather is a major at the moment, but also the machine being serviced, prepared and pre-flight checked, the wing being checked and impeccably aligned, fresh petrol I bought earlier in the day, a read through the NOTAMS on this website at lunchtime, paramotor battery charged and ready, Go-Pro battery charged and ready, memory card empty (!), a reassuring phonecall to my long-suffering wife, choosing the most suitable launch site (not too wet underfoot, suitable for the wind direction), a quick courtesy phonecall to the landowner, my Uncle.... and another courtesy phonecall to the neighbour to expect a bit of noise as I take off... It takes effort and planning, no doubt more so due to my relative lack of experience, but the premise that you can just “turn up and fly” is far from reality just yet. But I don’t care what SuperDell tells me: I’m happy just doing it right, it’s a small price to pay. So after a methodical few minutes preparation, and a moment reliving the launch procedure including abortive options, I took a step back and started my run: [youtubevideo] [/youtubevideo]It is testament to Paramania that my Revo2 launches so predictably. Once up I wound up the power and, focussed on the horizon, ran as upright as I could. A few visual checks on the wing before Mother Earth disappeared from below my feet... my goodness it felt good to be up again! This flight, my third ever and second on my own, felt like a true epiphany: the natural culmination to months of training. For the first time ever I was flying for the pure joy of it, feeling completely in control and comfortably seated, and having adjusted my trimmers flying straight and true. The biggest difference? I had time – time to enjoy the view, time to play with this and that, time to fly with both brakes parked, time to climb higher than before, time to drift back down, time to try flying at under 100’ (while maintaining a safe landing option at all times...), time to see people and my house and everything that’s important to me. After about thirty minutes in the air I entered my final landing circuit just as the sun was setting. The last few moments were occupied by thoughts of “before or after” the electricity cables; I took the pilots decision and opted to land before, safer than hopping over but a longer walk back to the car. But it didn’t matter. The landing was as near perfect as I’ll ever hope to do, and I don’t mind admitting that it all felt a little overwhelming and emotional once my feet were back on the ground. It wasn’t relief though - it was, for me, the perfect flight; technically everything went to plan, but I have now glimpsed the enormous rewards that await every time I strap on that motor. I know in the future there will be frustrations and failures, breakdowns and let-downs, but I also know it will be worth all of those moments and more for the chance to experience a similar flight again. So if you’re reading this and trying to decide whether to bite your own bullet or not... may I respectfully encourage you to go for it - what’s the worst that can happen? However, if you’ve already committed to training but find yourself struggling to pull it all together – keep going, the return on your investment could be life-changing and life-long. And if you’re reading this having already experienced your own epiphany? It’s rather nice isn’t it?

Hi Pete, So far, throughout my flying career (two whole flights and counting...) I've struggled to get into the seat on my Bailey 175 too. Last time out I managed with one brake parked, but even then I wasn't truly in "all the way" - it was comfortably & safely taking all my weight, but I know it comes further forward still; the difference between sitting on the edge of a deckchair and sitting back into a deckchair. My instructor suggested I try pulling the seat right forward and down then connect and adjust the leg straps. While this makes standing upright and running a rather uncomfortable affair, I guess it should make getting into the seat easier once up. Also, I noticed how the seat continues to slip further back while I'm preparing to launch; clipping in, finding the A's, centring on the wing, a quick power-up.... all these actions involve movement and all the time the seat it trying to wriggle its way higher and higher. I have no doubt the winterwear makes a difference though, and look forward to slipping back into my seat without a moments thought in those barmy summer evenings...

I was late, and I hate being late. I’d arranged to meet my trainer Alex from Foot Flight Paramotors at 10am and, having wasted 10 minutes finding my missing wallet, the sat-nav suggested I’d be there around 10.15am at the earliest. And, if that isn’t annoying enough, I’d just passed a mobile speed camera in a layby on the A14 while doing an indicated 80mph… grrrr, I know speeding isn’t acceptable, but it was starting to feel like this wasn’t my day As I pulled up under the shadow of the golden arches near Weeley, Essex I could see Alex sat patiently in the window polishing off his Double Whopper Breakfast Horseburger. He looked relaxed enough, now I can also relax and start focussing on the important things in life. After a coffee and refresh of the syllabus, we were joined by Gary, another wannabe pilot at a similar stage of training to me. Alex’s plan was for us to go to a local turf farm and, with a steady breeze and acres of flat grass, get us set up for a few powered runs. When we arrived the breeze was indeed steady, just on the borderline between a forward or reverse launch; however, after a bit of kiting it was clear that forward was the order of the day – it just wasn’t quite there. With a slightly raised heart rate I strapped the motor on my back and clipped in to the freshly fixed Revo2. (Top marks to Aerofix – you have to really look to find the repair). Alex was again pressing home the pre-flight routine, the all important checks; repetition aids learning, and it’s always reassuring to notice his attention to detail. I guess that’s what makes the difference between becoming someone who can fly, and becoming a pilot. A quick final radio-check and we’re off. The wing comes up square & true, and the first powered run was a successful repeat of the moonwalk I last experienced at Rayne in the New Year. So far, so good! Alex was careful to stress in the pre-training briefing that, as always, I must remain in a position to abort at the first sign of uncertainty. My primary focus must be handling the wing; when it comes up I must feel what’s happening and react accordingly. The goal is a successful powered run, but that clearly can’t happen if the wing isn’t up and under control first: always fly the wing, the rest will evolve in due course. Having two people of similar ability training together proved ideal; as Gary and Alex ran across the field I could catch my breath & prepare for the next run. Which, before I knew it, was upon us. The second powered run was a repeat of the first; this is feeling more instinctive - everything is working together in harmony and, while it’s still knackering, the wing is now doing most of the hard work. Two down and I’m ready for the third… it was inevitable something would shortly go wrong, I couldn’t possibly launch the wing successfully three times in a row... but sure enough it came up straight & true again; good old Paramania! This time, once up to speed I allowed myself an extra gentle squeeeeze of the throttle, and for a few seconds I was truly in the air – to the grand altitude of five feet! My first actual flight!!! Although clearly short-lived, everything went in super slow motion. I remember consciously keeping my hands high and easing off the power so as not to cause the wing to surge forwards. Then a gentle flare and I was running to a halt. Alex didn’t appear terribly cross, but suggested perhaps next time we agree on a powered hop before actually doing one! So we did: building on what had just happened, and focussing again on always handling the wing with the option to abort, I pulled the wing up (four in a row!), built up to full speed then “hopped” up to around 50 feet. I have never listened so intently to a radio! We were straight into the wind and running true, so it was just a case of plenty of power until Alex gave me the signal, easing off then switching off for a proper power-off landing. Waiting, waiting... NOW a progressive flare and ready to take the weight. I’m still on my feet! In my mind I had flared a thousand times, but it was still a relief to have successfully put the theory into practice. As ever I tried to gauge the correct pressure, to feel what the wing was doing above/behind me rather than a prescriptive “hands into position two/five/whatever...” and it worked; stayed on my feet and nothing broken – result! Alex caught me up and appeared happy enough as I shook his hand, so we trudged our way back across the field and, while Gary undertook another ever-improving powered run, set up for another hop. Strapped in, clipped in, A’s in hand, warm engine, last radio check, then pick my spot on the horizon & go. The wing coming up (!) evolved into the wing moving forward evolved into a moonwalk power run evolved into a second 50’ hop. This time I was drifting left towards the field margin, so instructions from the ground for a steady steer to the right, then a similar correction left back straight into the wind for my second power-off landing. Got away with it again! And we got away with it at the third attempt too – though having flown almost the full length of the field this time, the return walk was getting pretty knackering! Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not complaining – it’s a nice problem to have! As a few afternoon flyers arrived in the field Alex and I chatted through the progress made, and the prospect of my first proper flight. He talked me through the flight plan, and then took Gary’s motor and wing up for a real-time demonstration. I found this really useful, a tangible reference against which I could reaffirm my own flight plan. After a little admin involving signing off the syllabus, the opportunity struck me; Alex was happy I was ready, I felt ready and the weather was perfect. Remember, the first flight is just an extension of what we’ve already achieved – another evolution. Again Alex correctly identified the major key to the success or otherwise of my forthcoming performance: don’t focus on “I MUST fly this time”, focus on handling the wing, build momentum and it’ll all come together. And so, after one failed wing inflation (there had to be at least one!), the following happened: [youtubevideo] [/youtubevideo](I would be delighted if anyone can explain to me how to post YouTube videos so they can be watched on mobile devices... I suspect it's a rights issue with the music but it's pretty bloody annoying... oh, and it would be nice to retain the HD too - shot in HD, saved in HD, yet the YouTube quality is shocking ) Even now, several days later, I’m still coming to terms with what we achieved. And I genuinely mean “we”; it was a team thing, my instructor on the ground and in my ears sharing my happiness and relief. What a day of extremes! It mightn’t have started very well but it quite literally finished on a high. I know this is just one more step along this path, no more or less integral to becoming a pilot than practicing ground handling or pre-flight checks on my motor, but naturally it felt like a watershed moment. It’s what the last eight months has been all about, and with a bit of luck it’s what the next eight months will be all about too. Thank you again Alex, I can’t imagine going through this without your guidance and direction, and I very much look forward to my next sessions. Fly safe – maybe see you up there..? Bob

Thank you all for your speedy replies... The motor last ran (without issue) at the begining of January, so the fuel is probably 8-9 weeks old. I didn't drain the carb cos I didn't plan to lay the machine up - just week after week of inclement weather saw to that I suspect the fuel lines are the culprit; on close examination this evening several appear opaque in places - I have a horrible feeling they're the originals. Yellow lines = yellow jelly... Remedial action: replace all fuel lines, carb cleaner to clean the carb "properly" and fresh petrol! Thank you all again, no doubt this'll sort the problem once and for all Bob

I hope some kind soul might be willing to share their knowledge or experience... after five long weeks of wind, rain & snow, with night temps down to -10C on occasions, I got my motor (Bailey 175 four stroke) out of the shed on Saturday to prepare for another lesson - and maybe my maiden flight After fettling and safety checks I stuck the battery in & fired her up. She started second attempt which is fair enough, but immediately there was fuel pissing out from the carb. I soon whipped the carb off, removed the float chamber and found this inside: (Apologies for the crap phone camera focussing...) It can only be described as yellow jelly, and while there wasn't much it had gummed-up the little inlet valve, thus too much fuel was being pumped to the carb and it wet itself. Easily cleaned and reassembled, it now runs as sweet as ever - but what caused the jelly? The fuel had sat in there for the last five weeks, had it reacted to the cold temperatures? The float chamber gasket appears a little tired, maybe the seal wasn't perfect... could this have triggered the jelly??? Any suggestions would be appreciated, hope to put my mind at rest before the thousands of hours I plan to fly come Springtime Thank you in advance xx

Hell man, EasyMan, you've read this blog; you know what my opinion is! How far did you get with your training? Did you ever fly?? And what's with the weather worries??? Get back on the horse old chap. I firmly believe it's better to regret doing something than not doing something. You know that buzz ain't ever going to leave you; it's in your blood. C'mon..... you know you want to

Thanks Pete, that’s very kind. I’m pleased to report that Aerofix have assessed the wing and have confirmed it’s a simple enough fix – just a lightly bruised wallet! Having revisited the incident many times over the past week I still feel pretty pragmatic, but take full responsibility for what happened; I was trying to perform a powered run with a wing that was too wet, and I compounded this problem by failing to generate sufficient forward momentum during my turn. I’m being trained by Alex to identify the correct time to safely abort; on this occasion I should have recognised the risks associated with the wet wing and “aborted” before even pulling on the A’s. It would be too easy to think “the wind let me down at the vital moment, it wasn’t my fault”, but as the sole pilot in charge of my craft (even though I wasn’t actually planning to fly) I must accept responsibility and, more importantly, learn from the experience to minimise the possibility of a similar incident in the future. So, no lasting damage and an important lesson learned. On the major plus side I have experienced the “moonwalk” and know that, with just the merest squeeze of the throttle I would’ve been in the air. Believe me, I’ve revisited the successful run ten times more than the wet wing breaker! Soon my wing will be back from the very nice people at Aerofix and I’ll be back to Rayne at the earliest opportunity – can’t bloody wait!!! Make you a promise Pete – this year we Bailey Boys will fly together

Eleven days! Eleven whole days off work as Christmas and the New Year stretched out before me, eager to be filled with all manner of paramotor fun. Ground handling and powered runs and first flight adventures: lovely and lovelier and loveliest! Even allowing for the necessary distraction of Christmas itself, nothing could possibly stop me now. The opportunity was upon us, my moment had come: I was ready Two weeks of rain, gale force winds, sleet, fog, storms and squally showers later, and my patience was starting to wear thin – the weather this year goes from bad to worse! Dreams of running across fields on clear frosty mornings were dashed, replaced instead with indoor activities for the duration. Now, nice as it is to spend all eternity with my in-laws (if one more smartarse asks “Have you flown yet?” I’ll swing for ‘em...), a return to work inevitably heralded calmer conditions outside, rekindling the hope of a weekend session. And so to Rayne on a Sunday afternoon for a session with Alex at Foot Flight Paramotors. Although, as I left mid-Suffolk shrouded in fog I wondered if xcweather had got it right; however, a quick call to Alex in field suggested clearer weather in Essex, a little low cloud but acceptable visibility. I was rather relieved to discover a quiet field, with just two other paramotor pilots (Jason & Paul) paddling across the saturated grass. Having cleared my chosen spot of excess water I warmed up with two or three ground handling runs with just a harness. The wind was borderline forward/reverse launch, but with a handful of A’s my favoured reverse was easily achievable, much as it remained for the rest of the day. Next, unload and piece-together the Bailey for some powered runs; my shiny new decorators platform certainly gained some admiring glances! After an exercise brief from Alex I strapped the motor on (too many mince pies so a couple of adjustments to the harness), warmed her up, and then clipped in to the Revo2 ready to go. Alex, mindful as ever to the all-important routine, reiterated the pre-flight checks (“toes to tips: laces, leg straps, etc etc...”) then gave me the thumbs-up for the first powered run of the afternoon. A quick check of the windsock over my shoulder, then ease the wing up, steady with a little brake, get centred, no rush, use your ground handling to hold it there..... now a positive turn, maintaining pressure, walking forwards, all nicely balanced...... a quick look up, squeeeeeezing some power, not too much, just building momentum...... focussed on my “spot” ahead, trying to lean back against more power, all still nicely balanced, the wing is taking some weight now...... keeping hands up, still building power, building speed....... notice I’ve started “moon steps”, I’m all-but flying at ground level, feels fast but sooooo in control..... but I’m approaching the edge of the field now, start easing the power off, taking more weight..... killing the motor, jogging to a stop, and a final turn to bring the wing down. It felt right, and it was right. As I stood a moment to catch my breath I tried to capture as much of this feeling as possible, to bank it, to recognise it and to learn from it. My God I smiled The beautiful revelation: it felt exactly like I thought it would. Much of the training (and, more particularly, the playing in stubble fields on my own) has felt clumsy and frantic and tiring and bloody hard work. This was somehow different; sure I was out of breath, but the run felt much less exciting and rather more controlled, natural... and instinctive? Maybe, hopefully. A happy walk back to the other end of the field, then the same set-up, pre-flight check routine and we’re off again. This time I got the wing settled & turned, but never quite broke through into the “everything’s going light” stage. Consequently I didn’t get leaned back enough, the wing never quite settled, I was working hard and achieving little. After battling halfway across the field I felt the wing falling straight back, so simply cut the motor and allowed the cage to do its job. No harm done; a failure in that I didn’t repeat the sweetness of the first run, but a success in that I reacted correctly to a developing situation – once again the quality of Alex’s training proved its worth. A quick debrief, then back from whence we came we go. The cloud was getting lower by now, and it was becoming quite apparent that actually flying this thing in these conditions was no longer an option. Hey ho, maybe next weekend...? First things first, another powered run: set-up, pre-flight routine then with a steady squeeze on the A’s, up she comes. Steady on the brakes, waiting, getting central, steady, now turn and start moving forw..NO, IT’S NOT RIGHT, ABORTING NOW, KILLING THE WING, CUTTING THE MOTOR, TURNING AWAY, BANG! As Edmund Blackadder once said: “I think the phrase rhymes with clucking bell”. No lines broken, no damage to the prop, but two cells with a neat cut through them, and some stitching pulled on a third. That’ll be a job for Aerofix then... Luckily Alex had filmed the incident, so we watched and rewatched the evidence to see what I did wrong. And the general consensus is..... well, not much really. (If he posts the video online I’ll add a link so you can decide for yourself dear reader). The wing had surged slightly and was moving forwards more than I was when it collapsed, plus it was of course pretty wet, so when it came down it came down quickly. It looks like the wind eased a little at the wrong moment too. I don’t think I had time to kill the motor before impact, and I guess if I hadn’t turned I would probably have caught some lines. The only factor we feel contributed was my initial turn, which was more “on the spot” that the progressive, pressure maintaining movement I had been taught. Maybe this wasn’t enough in itself to cause the wing to move further forward, but with the extra weight of the wet wing and varying breeze... who knows? Certainly I’ll turn a little more prescriptively from now on! No great damage done, no howling error on my part – it’s just one of those things. No doubt there’ll be more in the pipeline. As I packed everything away we chatted about the events of the day. Jason & Paul had enjoyed several flights and were clearly making good progress – Jason in particular had noticeably grown in confidence since I last saw him in November. What better way to finish than a pint in the local, with more talk of... yep, paramotors! At the risk of over-egging the pudding, another huge thank you to Alex for his attention to detail and encouragement. In my book his attitude and approach are spot on, and I’m so pleased he has agreed to help me become a pilot. Now, where’s that phone number for Aerofix....?

There are several trains of thought - new vs secondhand, basic (ie. builders) vs "proper" (ie. paragliding) harness, padded vs unpadded... Personally, I practice my ground handling using a secondhand "proper" Sup-Air paragliding harness - it has some back protection, is fully adjustable, has a couple of pockets for bits & pieces (ie. anemometer) and is comfortable enough to wear for hours at a time. Think I paid £110 for it on eBay including two decent carabiners & postage. I'm glad I invested in a decent harness as I started learning to handle a wing - spent more than one occasion on my arse, as I guess you will too. Nice to have a bit of protection should you be dragged across a field or worse... like most things in life, I guess you get what you pay for. Not planning to sell it anytime soon, but when I do... well, I guess it won't have depreciated much either.

Playing on my own in the stubble field has taught me a great deal. For example, I know I have it all clear in my mind, but ask me to strap a motor on my back, pull a wing overhead and run across that field and all Hell breaks loose, such is the avalanche of information: sensory overload The time & effort invested recently has certainly improved the ground handling, but once the motor is on I’m zoning into “I’m definitely going to fly this time” mode, and the wing-handling takes a back seat with inevitable consequences. I realised I need more focussed practice, to get some powered runs under my belt under the watchful eye of my instructor. And so back to Rayne on a glorious Sunday morning for a consolidating session with Alex. Glorious it might’ve been, but breezy it wasn’t – certainly not breezy enough for my favoured reverse launch. Still, after clearing an area of dew and laying out the wing I strapped on my ground-handling harness and enjoyed several forward launches. With the wind varying from light to very little, it really paid to hold onto the A’s until the wing was comfortably overhead. After previously braking the wing a little too far back, I slightly over-compensated on a couple of occasions, making the forward run a rather stop-start affair. The light & variable wind wasn’t helping either... but it will rarely be “ideal” conditions when I’m actually flying either, so it’s important to learn in these varying conditions. If it was too easy everyone would be doing it! Happy that the Revo2 was consistently doing what I wanted above me, I took a break and watched with green eyes as various club members took off into the wild blue yonder. Envious though I was I recognise the skills they demonstrated, and could learn a great deal from their successes and occasional failures. You could see those who had been trained and those brave souls who were self-taught! It reignited the fire within, and provided its own sensory overload; mmmm, the unmistakable sound & smell of 2-stroke engines! In a moment I was back watching the bike racing at Olivers Mount in Scarborough in the early Nineties One bottle of water and two Go Ahead low-cal snack bars later (I need to lose more weight!) Alex asked me to set-up for some powered runs. We talked through the exercise, including some pre-flight checks, then cranked the trusty 175 into life. Oh no we didn’t! It would run, but only just and only at first; soon it wouldn’t start at all. The diagnosis was “flooded”. Back on the ground, Alex started the remedial action, but with fuel pissing out from the carb something clearly wasn’t right so he decided we’d whip it off and check it out. Half an hour later we discovered a little corrosion was preventing some little brass thingmy from sliding where it needed to; a further half-hour cleaning & reassembling and it was running like a dream. Nice one Alex, it would’ve taken me five times as long to sort that one out! It’s mid-afternoon and I’m back at the wing – radio & helmet on, strapped in, clipped in and we’re away: first run was short-lived as the wing slipped off to the left. Second went much better, but I’m leaning too far forwards. Third was probably the best – leaning further back, gaining more forward momentum, staying more central under the wing.... but still all very rushed with my feet looking more like Fred Flintstones. After a quick harness adjustment the fourth run was okaaay, but the wing went very light (not braked enough – again!) and just floated down. For the fifth run the wind moved and we slid off sideways again.... the sixth run we moved round a bit, but in my excitement I grabbed a handful of throttle and experienced a torque-induced zig-zag across the field. Alex was ready to go again, but I called time – I was absolutely knackered! The wind was almost non-existent now, and I was getting very little lift, taking the full weight of the motor all the time. The shadows were getting longer and, as various pilots returned home, I took the opportunity to chat with some of them about their experiences. They were largely very welcoming and only too keen to chat about wings, motors, the weather.... the usual nonsense with the expected dose of piss-taking. All good fun & grist to the mill. Alex delivered, as always, the perfect combination of encouragement & instruction. He had a busy day at Rayne with many people taking his time, but somehow he remains completely unflustered and enthused; thank you again Sir. He appeared happy with the progress we have made, and suggested with a slightly stronger & more consistent wind I’d be asking to take off within a handful of powered runs... that’s very encouraging and a nice thing to hear. Perhaps an impatient part of me went to Rayne yesterday just wanting to fly; well, I didn’t... but I will. There’s no hurry, and in my book no substitute to progressive learning through experience. The key now through the darkest winter months is to keep my knowledge and technique fresh – I don’t want to come out of hibernation in April to find myself relearning. When I “bit the bullet” I proudly declared “I will fly this year”; maybe, maybe – but if I don’t it’s for very good reasons, and that perhaps is the biggest lesson of all. Fly safe & warm, good people xx