HGFA Skysailor Magazine

8 SKY SAILOR January | February 2019 Holding my breath all the way up, I got to the top all alone above the craziness below and took a moment to take stock, drink some water and wait for my flying partner to arrive. I looked out and saw the entire Alps spread below my feet – jagged rock faces and massive peaks as far as the eye could see. Growing up in outback Australia, these mountains were something I had only ever seen on TV! Being this high in this place was very intense. My mind was actually blown that I was there, sitting 3300m up, hanging under my trusty Epsilon 6 in possibly the most beautiful place in the world. After my vague notion of flying in the Dolomites was initially formulated months before, it was unbelievable to actually be there! After a little time to ponder my personal achievements and stroke my ego, my flying partner arrived at base. We set off towards the Five Fingers – a ridiculous rocky peak behind launch and the first of three points on a triangle the locals referred to as ‘the chicken run’. For them it was a routine XC around the valley, for us the flight of a lifetime. There was no meteo wind and smooth big cores everywhere, compensating for the relatively low inversion. We glided quickly to Five Fingers, keeping a tentative distance from the towering granite spires. Here we found more lift, quickly made it up above the peak, and jumped on glide to the next waypoint, taking a beautiful lifty line along the towering fingers. The next stop was a short hop across the valley to a desolate granite summit surrounded by 1000m vertical faces. We arrived low and for a moment it seemed like a scary bomb-out into the narrow, chairlift filled valley below, but alas, I took a deep breath and followed some local pilots into a canyon surrounded on three sides by vertical cliffs. Here the lift was strong and well defined. We worked our way up the canyon until we looked down on big wall climbers making their summit. All around us we saw hundreds of pilots working their way through the Alps on ambitious XC routes. Off again on glide, the longest of the day, to the biggest peak in the valley – Marmolada. We saw some pilots working a tight core in the middle of the valley and went for that. Arriving low, we battled for 20 minutes, slowly losing ground. I made a run back to a low rocky outcrop I had seen on the way, sticking out of a grassy ski slope halfway back from the last peak and facing into the sun, it seemed like a worthy last ditch attempt. Getting low, I cut in close to the outcrop, soaring the light wind up the face while waiting for a thermal to come. Another pilot joined me. We worked for 20 minutes, barely holding ground. I lost 20m and almost gave up, contemplating leaving to ensure I could glide out from the numerous ski lifts to make it to a safe landing in the strong afternoon valley wind. All of a sudden we found a little rocket. Turning tightly together, locked in eye contact across the narrow core, we rocketed back up to 3000m, on level the whole way flying in perfect synchronisation. At the top we parted ways never to cross paths again, an anonymous friendship and understanding formed across a tiny pocket of rising air. Off to Marmolada, I glided high over our previous attempt of setting off for the huge peak and arrived below the ridge on the western side. My rudimentary knowledge of valley wind systems had me thinking this valley would be sucking from the main valley, and the rocky ridge facing into the sun would be able to provide reliable lift. But no, I Off to Marmolada Finding our way in Northern Italy