HGFA Skysailor Magazine

6 SKY SAILOR January | February 2019 That evening, we drank a bottle of rum to celebrate still being alive. I passed out in my van with all the doors open. Jindy spent the night locked up in the tiny Alpha Romeo whilst it poured with rain and a suspicious Italian tried to break in. Upon consultation with Godfrey Wenness about getting some new lines, he asked, “Why are you flying the Dolomites in summer? Good pilots die doing that!” “But Godfrey, they aren’t the real Dolomites they are the Mini Dolomites,” we responded. “Just go to Bassano del Grappa,” was his sage advice. So back on the road, another three hours of tiny mountain passes fuelled by espressos, we survived the crazy motorists and arrived at another world famous flying site we had never heard of. We were greeted by massive landing areas, an info desk, huge astro turfed launches, shuttle buses, a friendly shop owner with a rental wing and hundreds of stoked pilots. Jindy had a week left before flying out, so we lost no time in exploring the amazing Bassano del Grappa. We realised why it was famous – fantastic XC potential with five launches spaced along the first ridge of the Alps, which rose up immediately from the flat, baking hot farmlands. The ridge stretched out of sight in both directions, punctuated by valleys that proved fun to cross. We set up camp for a week by a delicious coffee shop called Al Pappullo which was by our favourite launch. We now enjoyed long flights every day or several times a day. There was heavy traffic out front of launch, but some big house thermals kept everyone going up. We spent the week enjoying just getting airtime under our belts and making short adventures away from launch and back again. My highlights included flying from the World War I monument at the very top of the mountain, a picturesque 35-minute sunset sleddie through wispy clouds around magical peaks. It was all the sweeter after camping for 24 hours in a freezing cloud while, unbeknown to us, other pilots were a few hundred metres lower down, flying happily underneath the cloud. We also caught some fabled magic air and cruised around the flatlands on an endless 0.1m/ sec until well after sunset. Headed to the Dolomites All good things come to an end, so it was with mine and Jindy’s spontaneous adventure. We never reached our goal of flying the Dolomites. Some things aren’t meant to be. At least they aren’t if you’re totally unprepared… I still had another six weeks to kill in Northern Italy and was hoping the Dolomites would be good to go and I’d be ready for them before time ran out. I set my mind on training for the task. Another flying partner joined me, and we spent the next four weeks skydiving on weekends in Bologna and logging flying hours at Bassano mid-week. We did a lot of thermalling up to the low bases and punching down the ridge, before sneaking back for some epic low saves and a lot of good active flying work. By now, it was September and late in the season for XC potential (especially with our lack of skills), but we made some short hops out into the flatlands and found hitchhiking with the friendly Italians fun and straightforward. Being in the sky seven days a week felt great and our confidence built. Over the next month, we threw in a few trips back to Brento to visit our base jumping mates and watch them rip down the sides of 1000m cliffs in their tracking suits. We had another flight in Malscine and flew the launches around Lago di Garda and Monte Brento that Jindy and I had previously been to scared to fly. Five Fingers in the background, Alina in the foreground Finding our way in Northern Italy Col Rodella