My oldest brother, Glenn, got married on the 19th, and I arranged hang gliding for his bachelor party. Sort of a plunge before the plunge. There were six of us all together. Myself, Glenn, our other brother Gene, Mark (Glenn's then future brother-in-law), and two other friends. The future brother in law chose not to fly, and manned a video camera instead.
Our first stop was a hang gliding supply store in Van Nuys. We met there for "Ground School" at 10:30. The first order of business was to sign away any right to sue. We can not sue the instructor. We can not sue the store. We can not sue the owner of the property over which we fly. We can not sue the state authorities. Basically, the only person we can sue is ourselves. However, for a large fee we could have maintained the right to sue. First time I had seen that. After becoming legal non-persons, we settled in for our lesson. The instructor, who we will call "Andy," proceeded to explain how to fling oneself down through the air in a controlled fashion. The secret is to let the hang glider do the work. Go figure.
The hang glider is balanced like a paper airplane. As long as the center of gravity is in the right place and no one messes with it, it flies straight and level. The passenger hangs from a harness much like one a rock climber would use to repel off a cliff. It supports all the passenger's weight without touching the big triangular control bar. The big triangle thing is just there for steering, and when there is no need to turn, there is no need for more than a finger or two on the bar.
After listening to an explanation of how the hang glider is steered and seeing a video of people hang gliding over cool scenery, we were ready for "The Simulator." The Simulator is just a strap hanging from the ceiling with a control triangle attached to it. We each strapped on the harness and took a turn getting the feel of proper hang glider management. We also learned our new word for the day, "Flare."
Flare is a very nice word, it functions as a verb or a noun (or an exclamation). Every good hang glider landing ends with a flare. A flare is a controlled stall, and involves turning the nose up just enough to slow to a stop without actually gaining altitude. One who flares with flair can land without even having to take a step. It is pronounced like the regular English word "flare," except with greater volume and urgency.
After ground school we broke for lunch. We ate at a fairly good sandwich place, then met the instructor in Simi Valley at the practice hill. It was an unremarkable hill. Gently sloping, it reached a height of perhaps a hundred feet at the top. There were two trails up the hill in different directions, presumably to accommodate different wind directions. There we met up with Mark.
Before flying we assembled and inspected the hang gliders. The instructor brought along two hang gliders; a beginner model and a more advanced one. Ostensibly the advanced model was there in case we progressed unusually fast, but I think he really brought it along to be a shade hut. That is the use we put it to. Assembling a hang glider takes only twenty minutes. They are larger than they look from the ground, but also lighter. They also have wheels on the bottom of the triangle, something I had not known before. With the hang gliders assembled we trudged up the hill. Not to the top, mind you- only half way.
Andy took flight from the hill to show us how it is done. It is very easy, at least when he does it. He picked up the hang glider and rested the top bars of the triangle on the sides of his shoulders. It only weighs fifty pounds, but even the gentlest stirring of the air makes it almost weightless. He then waited for a breath of wind and started down the hill. First at a walk, then a jog, and by the time he was running, his feet were off the ground. Next it was our turn.
We sent Glenn first so as to make sure it was not too dangerous before we sent the groom. I was under strict orders to return him to his bride in one piece, with all parts working. Next came Gene, then me, Matt, and finally John.
It was strange to stand on the side of a hill holding a hang glider. The strangeness was not in the hang glider itself. Holding it up waiting to go was about like you would imagine. You have to keep it tilted right, but with hardly any wind it does not try to get away from you. The overhanging sail kept the sun out of my eyes, which was nice, but not strange. Having looked forward to the moment for a long time made it a little strange, but not much. The strange part was not even in anticipating the inherently ridiculous action jumping off of a perfectly functioning planet and into the care of a few yards of canvas without any other reason than I felt like it. No, the strangeness was exactly the opposite. I just did not know if it would work.
Sure I had seen the instructor fly, but he is the instructor. Andy has been doing this for years, of course it works when he does it. But Glenn and Gene had just done the same thing that worked for Andy, and barely got off the ground. Now it was my turn, and I could understand why.
Intellectually I understood that Andy was light, which helps, and Glenn and Gene gripped the control bar with a death grip, which does not help. Emotionally, though it is different. Andy could fly with the hang glider because he flies. Glenn and Gene could not because they do not. It is that simple. People who fly just fly, people who don't just don't. The head knows that it I point the hang glider down the hill and let it do its thing then it will carry me into the air. The heart would almost find it less surprising to see Andy leap into the air and glide to the bottom of the hill without the clumsy aid of a hang glider than to see a ground-bound person loft into the air with its aid. And it was strange.
When the wind came up the hang glider suddenly got much lighter. Andy said "go" and I started to walk down the hill, then jog, and by the time I was running, my feet were off the ground. My head said, "See, I told you physics worked." My heart said, "Of course you are a person who flies. So what else is new?"
The flight itself was too short to really appreciate. My memory of it is not even visual. Rather, I remember the feeling of the straps starting to lift my weight, and then the feeling of moving my legs like running, but with no ground underneath. I was thinking about keeping the hang glider pointed in the right direction, and tapping my fingers on the control bar to keep from gripping. Then it was time to flare, and I was back standing on the ground. I had expected it would be like falling and being caught by the hang glider, but that was not the case. There was never any sinking feeling, and no fear. Excitement, but not fear.
Learning always requires patience. Learning hang gliding on a day with no wind requires more than usual. Sad but true, we were becalmed. We each took two flights down the hill, just enough to whet the appetite. There were not even any birds flying that day. Andy gave up at about four, and we headed back down the hill. Since conditions were a bust, he gave us a rain check. We go back again next month for another day on the hill.
On the 9th of this month I go for the other half of the introductory package; a mountain tandem flight. This consists of launching from the top of a mountain and gliding down from a third of a mile altitude. We will go with an instructor in a two person hang glider. He will control everything during the tricky part of takeoff, I will be just along for the ride. I expect it to be a thrill, but am not really concerned about falling. After all, I am a person who flies.