Paragliding
It’s mid-afternoon here on the slopes of Lion’s Head, and you can see for miles and miles. Far below, tankers as tiny as Tonka Toys ride upon the swell of the shimmering Atlantic, with the low-key residential sprawl of Camps Bay unfolding along the rugged shoreline.
To my left, the Table Mountain massif hunkers down, flanked by the Twelve Apostle peaks ridge-lining away towards the distant Cape of Storms. Summer has settled over the peninsula, and the fynbos foothills of the Table Mountain range are scattered with pink lilacea and orange watsonia blooms.
On any other day, I might have described the panorama before me as a ‘view to die for’, but when you’re about to step off the edge of a mountain, this is not a phrase you want to bandy about. Problem is, the tandem flight briefing has started and there is not one thing I can do about it. Except do a runner, I suppose. I manage to restrain myself, but I do beam up surreptitious prayers to any Gods of Flight who may be up there patrolling the Cape airspace.
Then the T-strap harness and flying helmet go on and I know I’m fully committed, so I watch warily as Ant lays out the wing. He checks and double-checks the foil and the lines, does a couple of adjustments and flashes me a laconic smile. It’s all systems go now. Anthony harnesses himself up behind me, then barks “Walk slowly forward!” as time slows down into a surreal blur.
I lean forward, as per his instructions, and feel the canopy inflate and tug at the harness like a boisterous whale about to breach. “Lean forward and run!’ snaps the next command, so I run like hell, until my feet are no longer touching the ground and terra firma spins away from beneath us in a sickening lurch.
The fear factor kicks in big time, but I have enough presence of mind to sit back and bring my knees up as per the briefing. I cannot help but sneak a quick look to check out the canopy though, but everything seems A-OK, with the wing cutting a colourful swathe against the blue afternoon sky.
Then I look down for the first time and I feel my innards plunge a thousand feet to splatter onto the fynbos slopes fast-forwarding past below our dangling feet.
The rush is indescribable, completely different to the feeling of being in a glider or micro-light aircraft. You’re not enclosed in a cockpit, there’s no internal combustion engine racketing along, and the old cliché about soaring like an eagle just about sums up the experience. It’s just you, suspended within the awesome whoosh of the wind as you soar in great, weightless arcs within the cloud space between earth and sky.
Flying Tandem
The mission today is to grab some close-up photos of Michael Knipping, one of the world’s top aerobatic paragliders. Fortunately I am flying tandem with Ant Allen, and if there are few fly-boys who know the Cape air currents better than him. ‘Let’s do a turn in the White Room’, he grins sadistically, then spirals up in a looping whirl towards the mist clouds cocooning the peak of Lion’s Head.
We blast skywards on a powerful thermal, at times trapezing so close to the rock face that I can just about shake hands with the startled hikers making their way to the top of the peak. Ant loves the chase, and we swoop and spin and stall as we track Michael with my shutter ratcheting off shot after shot.
Good news is that I’m not hyperventilating anymore and am enjoying every incredible second of airtime. After a good two hours in the air and with the sun swooning on the western skyline, I’m starting to feel a bit like a pigeon caught in a vicious twister, so I’m not sorry to hear Ant calling it a day. I look around towards Lion’s Head to see the full moon rising up above Cape Town, and grab a few last photos as we head for the landing zone. Ant decide to test my stomach one last time as we spiral into the descent, pulling a series of near horizontal swings as we corkscrew onto the Camps Bay sports fields.
Apparently we were pulling close to three Gs coming down, but our landing is perfectly executed and just in time for a sundowner beer and burger. And now that I’ve got my feet back on the ground, I can hardly wait to take off again.