Hang Gliding and Paragliding Volume 44 / Issue 2: February 2014 | Page 14

PILOT REPORT by Gene Gleason P ilot reports help us all learn. On reviewing this report Dave “Preacher” Norwood, our new Accident Review committee chair for paragliders added a few thoughts: Sounds like a spin, possibly induced by a thermic release (read: dust devil); in any event there was clearly very active air and a small LZ. My suggestion for “ lesson learned” is as follows. 1. Cool spring days can make for some of the most energetic thermal conditions of the year. Cool air and bright sun make for hard, fast thermals. 2. When deciding to launch into thermic conditions both launch and landing safety need to be considered. Landing in active thermic conditions presents added risk, and landing in a very tight LZ in the springtime at 2:00 on a thermic afternoon is putting yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is a lesson learned at great cost to Gene. I hope we don’t squander the cost of this lesson next spring. Thank you, Gene, for sharing. Floating thousands of feet over the ground is an experience I find hard to explain to those who have not been up there looking down. I can still remember flying around my room in my dreams as a child, until my mom yelled at me to come back down. I have 60 years of life experience: six years of hang gliding in the early 1980s and five years of recent paragliding, with a P-3 rating, for a total of over 70 hours in the air. I’ve also completed two SIV courses and flown in Mexico, Colombia, Costa Rica, Florida, and New Mexico, as well as 14 HANG GLIDING & PARAGLIDING MAGAZINE at my local launch sites in N.Y. and Pennsylvania. This does not make me an expert, but it implies that I have some idea of what’s going on. But on April 21, 2013, around 2:00 p.m., I fell from the sky from about 170 feet. In the long ride to the hospital I had a lot to think about. My sister Maureen and a fellow pilot came to the emergency room, offering support and providing me with the comforting feeling that I was not alone. I spent the next night in the hospital, and, although I was urged to stay another day, I assured them I was fine to go home. Three compression fractures in my lower back and several months later, I’m writing to tell you what happened. I learned two things that I hope will help if you find yourself in a similar situation, as well as how to deal with the aftermath. The day was beautiful, clear and cool—in the high 50s. About eight of us pilots drove to the trailhead and started our hike up to Little Gap. Twenty minutes later, we arrived there, around 11:30 a.m. The wind was gusting more than expected, about 10-15mph, so we started our favorite pastime, para-waiting. As conditions improved, I took off with a good launch, headed straight out and went up. First, a hundred feet over launch, then 1500 feet, hitting climbs of 400-900fpm. I could have headed over the back, but decided to head east toward Blue Mountain. I wanted to see if anyone would join me. It was beautiful flying along the mountain ridge. The colors were the base brown