The objective is to get a good deal on the best wing available – for the purposes of the 2017 edition of the Red Bull X-Alps, and vol biv thereafter. As such I need to be confident on the wing, it needs to be suitable for a wide range of conditions and situations, and it should be a joy to fly.
Monaco 16th July 2015 © zooom.at/Kelvin Trautman
New Zealand is not known for its reliable weather. After two amazing summers the norwester returned to dominate. There was a treasured handful of good long flights but if you didn’t have anything else to do, times could have been tough with only one decent cross country during my last fortnight (first half of January 2017). Still, I love the fact that I can put down my wings and be a mountain goat for a day, or take the pack raft and float down rivers. Flying is still the choice way to get around though, and a few encounters with the wind resulted in a scary wave flight and a ride on the “yellow glider”.
Kea in strong winds
Some rain today so a chance to catch up on sleep at last – it’s been a pretty hectic first week of my summer holiday in New Zealand.
Shadows in the Shotover
I wrote this nearly two years ago in the lead up to my debut xalps (2015), but decided it was too controversial to publish! So many people would ask me about my training and then give me a really worried look when hearing my response. Losing any sense of humility after a good run last xalps, and not seeing much change to my attitudes since, here it is…
This blog is supposed to be about the adventures I have flying in the mountains, but since being accepted, the xalps has never been far from my mind. When I’m introduced as the crazy xalps guy the first thing I am invariably asked about is my training. In time I’ll whittle down the word count of my response to save my breath, but here is the long answer to what I think about training – without mentioning that horrible word again until the conclusion of the article.
Dawn on Agung 3031m (Rinjani 3726m in distance)
I allocated a few days to this mission in tropical Bali amongst the warmest oceans of the world in what was supposed to be the dry season (July). Arriving at Denpasar it was hot and humid and huge wafting cumulus filled the sky, blocking the sun and slowly moving the moisture through the atmosphere. I was tired and sick and I’d just stumbled out of the airport into densely populated Kuta without any firm plans so I found a cheap room for the night literally walking distance from the airport and went to the beach for a swim. Nice waves and the odd bit of plastic brushing past your leg. If I squinted and the clouds were in the right place, I could see the hazy cone of the Agung volcano in the distance from the surf.
