Himalayan Sky Safaris

MORDOR AND BEYOND...ACROSS THE WATERSHED

2010-04-18T17:16:00.000-07:00

MORDOR AND BEYOND...ACROSS THE WATERSHED...

himachal pradesh, India
Bir...2009

All the procrastination, and then preparation, had been done! It was time to go for it. After a weeks lull in the generally brilliant post-monsoonal flying season, yesterday had seen a return of the high cloudbase of 5500m, and Eddie Colfox, Debu Choudhury and I had checked out the Thumsur pass, the gateway to the remote region that lay to the north west of Mordor...the Ravi river gorge of the Manimahesh mountain range that we would need to cross.

Once the Thamsar pass had been crossed there would be no going back, and failing to fly a further 40km would mean landing high above the gorges, with no other means of transport other than a difficult walk along the gorge. The route ahead looked committing.

That evening we made preparations, sorting our bivvy food and changing the multitude of batteries in our instruments. And as usual, at the end of the season, we were throwing an impromptu party for our friends who were leaving, including Debu and Flo who had flown with us on many days throughout the season. Debu was desperate to join us on the adventure, but realised that there was no way that it could be done in less than 3 days, so suffered in silence as we manically sorted our kit, trying to remember the multitude of small details that would get us through unscathed.

Illustration 1: The 4624m Thamsar pass...5078 Thamsar on left

8th November

The day dawned clear, and we took the lift up to launch at Bir, a 40 min drive. The days were growing shorter, so we were keen to launch early, to maximise our chance of success, but fate was not on our side.

The police check point at the bottom of the hill proved the first problem...our passes were considered to have expired! We couldn't believe it...today was THE DAY, and after a month of no problems it was today that it had to happen. There were no officials on hand because it was a weekend, and we were told that we would have to wait until tomorrow to get them sorted. Luckily we had the telephone number of the district commissioner, and he told the policeman to let us through since he knew we had rescue insurance...but it was a close thing and we wasted an hour.And then at launch Eddies radio proved faulty, and he took off cursing his misfortune, whilst Imissed the only decent cycle, and had to waste time moving to the other side of launch, taking off from the back of the hill into the dead east wind.

The next time I saw Eddie he was low in front of the Thamsar pass, as I wound it up to 5500m
before the crossing. We were late, and I had doubts that he would still want to continue, so went for it alone. This was like competition flying, racing the day and terrain to get to our goal , the Chamba valley and the next road before the sun set and we had to land.

As I glided from above Thamsar, I looked down at the unfolding terrain, deviod of roads and any
discernable villages. It was wild. Untouched. Pristine. I could see the Ravi river, deep inside its gorge, 10 000 feet below, and wondered that there was really a trail hacked into its walls, that led to the truly remote village of Bara Bangahal.

Illustration 2: the tortourous route to Bara Bangahal

I had been told that to walk along it would be difficult for a tall westerner carrying a big load like a paraglider, since the rocky overhangs might necessitate almost a crawl for a few kilometres. But flying up high I didn't care, I knew I could cross this section, and focused ahead, never looking back. Soon I was on the Manimesh massive , gliding along between beautiful easy climbs, looking rightwards to Kailash...and then another valley crossing to the Pir Panjal range, looking south along the valley to Brahmaur, a 7th century settlement of ancient temples, that looked insignificant from my perspective.

Illustration 3: the isolated temple town of Brahmaur

Crossing this wide valley, I became aware of a new valley wind from the south. The day was now
coming towards its close, and the good cumulus clouds which had assisted me so well had come to an end, so rather than continue on deeper into the mountains and the Kalicho pass, I went west into the mouth of the Chamba gorge. On a high flat hill above the precipitous valley. there were shepherds buildings at 3400m, and it looked a good place to spend the night. As I dropped lower I fell into a strong valley wind, and was left fighting in it's turbulent lee. Realising that it was still too dangerous to try to top land, and that I would have to wait for half an hour for the wind to die down, I suddenly felt tired, and the will to keep flying was hard to sustain.
And that is when I saw it, a brightly coloured paraglider out here, miles from anywhere. It felt
almost like an hallucination, totally out of place, and my first thought was that there must be a
flying site, with local pilots who had somehow learnt to fly. But I knew this was not likely, and on
closer inspection realised that it was probably Eddie. For the last 3 hours I had totally forgot about him, but he had made it, all on his own.

Suddenly things seemed better, decisions shared once again. We shouted to each other in the air, and he was thinking the same as me, wanting to land for the night. And he was the bravest, risking a dangerous landing first, and cajoling me down.

There were many huts to choose from, so we used the cleanest, and collected wood for the fire.
We had lots of varied food, this being the first night of plenty, so it was beautiful at over 3000m,
with the prospect of another great day tomorrow. Through the door of the hut the Pir Pangal stood proud in the distance, and the 4800m Kalicho pass was clearly visible below a good cloudbase, beckoning us on for the morning. This was clearly the way through to Lahaul, a backdoor route to Keylong.

Illustration 4: home for the night...5656m Kailash in distance

I was woken at 7am by Eddie, telling me there was snow. It was 6 inches deep and falling fast, a
total whiteout, so we immediately packed to escape. We were 1500m above a dangerous precipitous valley, and our only knowledge of the terrain was from flying over it the night before. The ground was covered in fresh snow, obscuring the tell tale signs of shepherds tracks, and on such steep ground our soft soled flying boots were slippy. 2 hours later, soaked and strained with our heavy loads, we stumbled into the first dwelling, happy to see the surprised faces, and accept the cups of sweet chai.

So our journey was over, the Kalicho La would have to wait for another year. The flying season was firmly finished, and it snowed for 2 more days, laying down more than a metre at the Rhotang pass, which was closed until next spring.

If it had come one day later we would have been trapped beyond the Rhotang, and the 2 days travelling which it took us to get back to Bir would have seemed like nothing.

You win some, you loose some. We had had the most brilliant season.

enforced vol biv

2010-02-01T05:03:00.000-08:00

The flying at Bir had been fantastic. The season had not fully got underway but Dharamsala had been reached by many. There had been a relatively late start as the monsoon had lingered a little. However this left the great advantage that cloudbase had remained fairly high allowing some wonderful flights along the high route to Dharamsala. We had some incredible flights over the back discovering areas where the likelihood of been pinned at 5500m was probable, as both John and I discovered at different times. A soviet pilot (Andre) had gone missing and people were rightfully concerned.

Due to language difficulties people didn't know what each other were up to, many didn't even know Andre had gone missing, very few, us included had any idea where.
John, Jim and I had gone for a search hoping to check suitable high landings, as possible vol biv sites. It was a gap between our expeditions and we were on the look out to improve them. Whilst flying near Waldo struggling to get through the lift and join John at a top landing, the Scot, Julian Robinson came over the radio saying someone had crashed just beyond Big Face somewhere. We all set off to check the story and see what we could do help.
The information was basic so Jim took a lower route and I took a higher route. John whose radio was down (we weren't working) launched wondering what we were up to. Austrian Mike Blubb joined us. It was clear that this wouldn't be easy without more information and we passed Big face and the next 2 spurs with no luck. On the 3rd spur I noticed a splash of red. Normally there are red flags on the many temples however I was unfamiliar with this one. It was near the top of the spur and not far below cloudbase, so hard to see from where I was so I went closer to get a better look. Fortunately we'd found the downed pilot. Unfortunately, not only had he crashed, he'd managed to wrap himself around a huge 120ft rock at about 3100m on a very steep grass slope. See orange bit on the blurred photo below.

Landing up here was not easy, the cloud was sucking on the top and base was sometimes around the casualty. After experiencing cloud suck and a few aborted attempts I got down safely and Jim and Mike headed off to tell others exactly where we were. It appears that cloud was the cause of his accident. By now it was about 3.45 and going to get dark at about 6.

After scrambling down the steep slope and climbing up the back of the rock I finally viewed the pilot from up close. What a place to crash! He had got out of his harness and was on a small ledge about 2ft wide, 20ft below me and 100ft above the ground.

I am not a climber and I couldn't take on the risk involved to get closer to him. He was conscious and coherent, although I don't speak Kazach and he appeared to have an injury to the lower leg. I lowered some water and my first aid equipment for him to self administer and got on the radio and SAT phone for help. It was great to know that Jim, John and the Kazach group from Almaty had informed Suresh Thakur and help was on its way. However it was beginning to get dark. Help started to arrive but it was just 1 person, Evgeny the Kazach instructor arrived with Morphine based painkillers and a climbing harness. Evgeny proceeded to treat and comfort,

The ledge with Sergai and casualty.

I found a prominent position, gathered wood and lit a fire, which had the dual advantage of keeping me warm and providing a point for the rescuers to walk to.

Rescuers finally arrived at about 8.30pm they were well resourced with splints, ropes, additional pain relief and a backboard,

Suresh and Kazach climber fix ropes .

The casualty was lowered, attached to the board and carried up a 60+ degree grass slope, through a boulder choke and by 3am was in hospital. This was much easier to write than to do.

the boulder choke path

I believe he has made a good recovery from a compound lower leg fracture, broken arm and some ribs. He was an extremely lucky man, I believe Andre has not been found over 3 months later and during a search for another lost Soviet, a rescuer was killed through losing his footing.

After helping with the initial rescue, I missed the carry down and spent the night wrapped around the fire trying to keep warm and not thinking of food. I woke stiff and hungry with frost in my beard. Soon the morning sun warmed the ground enough for a launch and a wonderful morning flight back to Billing. I arrived at Chatchujees for breakfast and a very warming welcome from the pilots gathered for the days flying.

If any of the Kazach crew read this and have any photos or viewpoints to add they would be most welcome.

Blogs and Late updates

2010-02-01T03:22:00.000-08:00

Opps, it's been a long time since I published anything, sorry, it just happens that when life is busy it's hard to do a blog and then sometime later its still hard because the detail gets a bit blurred. The advantage is that it gets more concise. Hopefully that's because only the best bits get remembered. Ok not just the best bits, obviously the more memorable. Not sure soviet accidents are the best bits. Oh well, I hope so because here goes, I'm going to try to catch up with a whole load of stuff now.

The order of what follows may not be correct, even some of the details may be dubious and due to 2 hard drives crashing I'm not sure how many photos will be there. However I'm still confident that it should be pretty good reading and viewing. Lets just think about how fantastic it would have been without all those techie failures. It certainly was amazing in the real.

Hopefully new vol biv routes, 8 to Manali and beyond, 6 back again, camping, Dahramsala for cricket and para urban commutes hopefully will make up for my lateness and make some of you consider a spring or Autumn trip with us this year.

Debu does a big one - twice!

2009-05-14T02:22:00.000-07:00

Having already gained the Indian out and return record on the 31st March,

http://www.xcmag.com/articles/2009/04/2850/

On the 14 April Debu managed to break the Indian out and return distance record again with a flight of 211kms from billing to beyond Dahramsala-Mandi and back to Billing.

http://www.onlinecontest.org/olc-2.0/para/flightinfo.html?flightId=-1527555586

A fantastic flight. Made all the more brilliant by the fact that he'd announced it as his Spring 2009 goal during the Autumn 2008 interview for his profile in this months xcmag.

Jim was gutted because despite being in India he was not in Bir that day. Although he, Hugh Miller and Debu had some great flying including more visits to Hobbiton and other "Temples in the clouds".

Ominous emails- fantastic flying

2008-12-10T04:02:00.000-08:00

The 3rd expedition started with an ominous email – Colin Hawke had hurt himself on a flying trip in the Dolomites, fortunately he was okish but unfortunately he wouldn’t be coming to India. But he’s already booked for next year.

However Kevin Bigland, Greg Walsh and Scott Rigg did turn up and judging from some of their comments had “a near perfect trip” on “the coolest paragliding holiday around”

We had every day being flyable, no serious incidents and personal bests for all the pilots who between them had over 20yrs experience, descents from Aconcagua and a podium place in the 2008 xscotia competition.

Greg’s track logs are representative of what the group did and these photos are a good indicator of how spectacular it was.

Although photo’s often show a great story better:

It was a fantastic trip with great pilots. Jim and I are ready for more this Spring and hope to be seeing some of you guys there.

Many more of Jimi Chu's annotated photos at this link

2008-12-07T08:11:00.000-08:00

http://picasaweb.google.com/jchu45/IndiaVolBiv2008#

Vol Bivouac, Sky Safari’s, Personal bests, peeing in the air.

2008-10-13T04:14:00.000-07:00

It's been another fantastic flying week in Himalayas: 7 days on the trot.
We've discovered new bivy sites which wouldn’t look out of place in the next Lord of the Rings. Had a wonderful 5 star safari, explored yet more of the range, stopped for pees on isolated mountaintops, adapted condoms for peeing, flown to Dahramsala and back, landed in Mandi - a significant enough city to get ourselves on regional television and learnt more about pressure flows whilst using condoms designed for inflight bladder relief, and all us (guides included) have had some of the most memorable flying of our lives.

To crown it all, after doing a tour with us Miha Ratzinger came 3rd in the Pre PWC winning enough money to cover over half of the costs of the trip.

The central building is the Dalai Lama's palace in Mcleod Gange. It is considered disrespectful to fly above any temple whilst wearing shoes. This is extremely difficult to do as there are so many temples along the Dhauladhar. According to the local flying permit you are technically in breach of contract if you fly above the palace at all.

The problem about landing for a pee is it's often difficult to get privacy.

Miha and Debu needing one

After regular flights of over 4 hours Jim was forced to try his specially adapted peeing condoms. A sagly word of advice is "remember if you tape it on you've got to remove the tape at the end of the flight and if you don't tape you may as well not have it on, at all". As he learnt to his embarassment when he let flow with particular gusto prior shrtly before landing.

A vulture getting very close to Miha.

Vultures in a more relaxed mood at the Shire

Arriving in Mandi. The landing zone ie the cricket pitch middle left in picture

Miha and Chewie landing in cricket ground and being interviewed by local media.

Chewie over the back in Barot valley

Miha flying high beyond Barot

Miha at Hobbiton's landing

Supper with the shepherds. We had some ingredients for the dish plus a crucial bag of sugar. The shepherds were concerned about not being able to have sweet milk chai for a week before they could next buy supplies.

Shanghai Splendour in Manali

2008-10-07T07:23:00.000-07:00

It was great to meet Vojtek, Myriam, Florian, Gregory and Zeon relaxing in the late afternoon with beers on their balcony, after 24 hours of travel from Shanghai to Bir. Jim and I had spent the day under a low base flying from Billing to Palampur and back.

We all went to the Colonels for dinner where he entertained us with delicious Indian cuisine and Chivas Regal whiskey. The Shanghai crew’s experience varied from 30 hrs to 130 hrs but most of this was thermal flying in the Southern Hemisphere. Everyone was excited about the days ahead. Jim and I were concerned, on the drive up everyone had been talking of the torrential rains that had not altogether stopped. The cloudbase around Bir was still not much above take off at Billing.

The first morning after briefings at breakfast using Google Earth and Jim’s finely adapted British Raj maps we set off for Billing. Gurpreet had 40 lucky Indian soldiers who were benefiting from the risks of joining the army by having 2 weeks paragliding training prior to a final selection where some would be chosen to represent their country in the upcoming pre pwc. Base was still relatively low and getting lower. The wind was fine as was the cloud development, although towering did not show real signs of going bang! We chose to launch, a daunting moment for us as guides. It was the first moment when the talk of experience of the group members could be shown up. Psychologically it is a stressful time for everyone, first launching in light flukey winds and only a smallish area to work in. Everyone pulled it off, the launches were clean and the pilots were committed. Shit, I had to hurry and get with them, I had not had time to fully prepare my own kit being last off and now the cloud had come down below launch. I launched and flew on a bearing for a few minutes to arrive nicely above the front ridge and near the Shanghai crew, Jim and Debu.

Debu Choudhuri is the Indian Paragliding Champion, Manali resident, fluent in 5 languages, a regular in the PWC and acro scene and an all-round great guy. He has joined us for this year’s Bir expeditions because John, in a non-flying incident, damaged his back and has been unable to come out. Although not as tall as everyone in the picture Debu has been an invaluable addition to www.himalayanskysafaris.com

Everyone was soaring comfortably in the light lift over the valley, looking towards the Dauladhar that were beneath towering cu’s. The shelf some 5 kms in front of the main ridge was in clear air but with a promising line of smaller cu’s immediately above it. Given the choices it seemed the obvious place to go, the issue was when?

Debu and I bullishly set off with the male Shanghai contingent tentatively lingering in the lift. Our bravado didn’t pay off. A km behind the shelf it became obvious we would not make it and we turned 180 degrees to make it back to the Sunset landing zone or another thermal. Already at the back, Myriam and Zeon led by Jim managed to make it back up to base Debu, Florian, Gregory, Vojtek and I were forced to land near sunset. Although the flight was over an hour long, the packing was swift whilst Debu called for a taxi to meet us and the kids showed us the ways through the paddy fields to get back in time for another flight. Jim taunted us with his radio guidance to Myriam and Zeon clearly indicating that they were all have a fantastic time up there flying with the vultures and watching the prayer flags on the various promontories. We were soon back at Billing to launch again. Jim’s crew landed whilst we waited for the cloud to lift around Billing. When it did we all had a great another hour flying around the spurs on either side of launch. When we eventually also landed at Sunset Point we joined the others for chai whilst watching Gurpreet lecturing the 40 soldiers on the physics of flight. Gurpreet embarrassed me into giving an impromptu talk on my experiences as a “pioneer of paragliding in the Himalaya”. Good for my ego but a little daunting nonetheless.

Enjoying the tales of the day over chai and beers at the Tibetan Friends restaurant we noticed that the conditions looked likely to worsen with stratus showing above the cu. Remembering the higher base northwards and bearing in mind it was early in the season we asked everyone to be ready for movement he following day

In the few days we’d been at Bir, we’d noticed that there were fewer and smaller clouds behind the front ridge and that base was higher. So, on the second day, after waiting for a couple of hours for the clouds to lift on launch, we confirmed our observations with a few telephone calls to the Manali tandem pilots and we all headed off as a group to Manali some five hours distant. The hotel we arrived at made up for the drive and the chill clear air held great promise for the future.

The following morning in Nagar dawned beautifully clear and coolly crisp. The surrounding mountains looked down magnificently beckoning us with their 5000m permanent snowlines. The crows around the roof gardens balustrade showed no menace and were close enough to display their awesome vermillion plumage. After a fantastic breakfast, a quick perusal of the bomb out options, a short scary drive and a short steep and unnerving walk we were at launch spreading out our own wings and preparing to join the vultures who were pointing out the route to those awesome peaks above Hallan. Debu led the way, with Vojtek quick to follow establishing himself and using the spur as an aerial highway to the big stuff. The others were soon to follow. Some with a little assistance from me on the radio soon climbed out to join Jim guiding them back on each climb along the spurs before getting to the clouds now forming and lowering on the big stuff. I and one other took longer to get the initial climb.

As the cloud lowered Debu, leading Vojtek, headed off up valley aware from the clouds. Although large the clouds were not sucking strongly so Jim and his group climbed to them and soon followed on. We climbed in front and deciding the clouds were pretty much level with us, decided to take their route along the ends of the spurs to catch the others who were following the heads of the valley. Jim meanwhile found his group of three was getting split up and we were able to reunite Florian and Myriam, whilst Jim, Greg and Zeon tried to blast on to catch Debu and Vojtek. Florian and I followed along spur by spur until hearing that Jim and his crew were landing at the foot of the next spur. We decided to join them. Debu and Vojtek managed to make it to the head of the valley landing at Cochin, not far from Rohtang Pass. Johnson’s Bar in Manali was a fine place to exchange stories at the end of the day. Gregory’s smile suggests he is on E but the smile hardly fades all holiday. I don’t think the pills last that long.

The next day we went to Solang, which is near the head of the Manali valley on the west side. At the bomb out, it appeared there was a grassed over nursery ski slope, complete with not commissioned chair lift stations. The activities taking place were tandem paragliding and Zorbing down the nursery slope. The walk up was a hard 40 minutes although we all had porters and some of the team were even carried on horseback. I thought paragliding was dangerous enough but riding a beast up a narrow steep sided track, no way!

Again climbing out was tricky but the rewards were tremendous. Everyone managed, with some assistance. The rocky 5000-metre mountain baked in the morning sun and the snowy peaks shone and glittered like the massive jewels they are. Once at base we glided eastwards across the valley. Vojtek and Debu being earlier were the higher pilots and flew around much of the valley. Vojtek top landed at Gulaba launch whilst some landed in Solang with Jim, and others at Cochin with me. Our driver had a tummy like Buddha but resembled him in no other way other than his great humour, collected us all up and we reached Gulaba for an evening glass off in the fading light followed by a meal to celebrate the birth of the hotel’s owner’s son. Another beautiful day.

A beautiful morning dawned in Nagar again and we planed a drive to the 3600-metre take off above Marhi near to the Rohtang pass. Spectacular views above the inversion meant a late launch and a glide around to Gulaba for an afternoon soar amongst the clouds, wondering where to land and eat the chocolate that was hidden deep in the harness. Another delicious meal in Naggar but the pilots were now too knackered to talk. An early night was necessary.

The Shanghai group’s final flying day meant a flight from Halan to link up all the Manali sites we’d visited. The vultures were still on launch when we arrived and the visibility down the valley looked poor. There was wind coming consistently on launch and none of the cloud development caused significant worry. Debu launched and struggle to maintain the height of take off, in fact he slowly and consistently started to lose height until he was forced to land. The signs that the inversion was lifting were some extra clouds forming and when the vultures stopped appearing to bang against something repetitively at the same height and soared majestically away. I launched, struggled, and then climbed well. As did everyone else. Vojtek as ever, screamed away from the crowd. I was left in an in-between stage monitoring where Vojtek was and where Jim was guiding the rest of the crew along the difficult climbs back along the spur to the main range. Vojtek had a little tour around the adjacent valleys at altitude whilst I stayed low on the slopes to help show areas of lift to the others and giving me the opportunity to notice the smells of cannabis plants and the people rubbing them to make hashish. When we all assembled beneath the same cloud Jim and I led off with everyone choosing the best lines. We noticed the valley wind increasing so abandoned our original plan of flying up to the head of the valley as there were narrow areas with limited landing options. Instead we had a marvellous 3 hours exploring the region of Nagar and a lovely landing near the river, kids playing cricket and the potato harvest being assembled prior to transportation.

Gregory’s smile hadn’t diminished all week. He positively beamed. Everyone was in a similar state, many personal bests had been beaten but there was the sad realisation it was the end of the tour. There were hugs all round when we had to say good bye and head back to Bir to meet Jim and Miha who were arriving early for our next group.

More photos from this tour are available at http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AaM2rdi1bt2LDug

John and Alun Being "Birdmen in the Karakorum" and Jim looking For "Temples in the Clouds"

2008-09-11T15:12:00.000-07:00

Pakistan China trip summary

2008-09-11T07:02:00.000-07:00

Look out for Ed

Wow! It’s been 2 months. What a journey! Doesn’t time fly when you’ve been having fun?

John Silvester, Alun Hughes and I met at Manchester airport on the 8th May. Jim Mallinson had very kindly driven me to the airport, enigmatically leaving us with the quiet words to John, “Keep an eye on and look out for Eddie.”

Suffice to say he tried, just as I did for him. We needed that kind of team attitude whilst making a paragliding film about flying up to 8000m and coping with some of the strongest and best possible flying conditions in some of the harshest and tallest mountain ranges of world. Furthermore it was not just the terrain that was expected to be difficult; the intended route took us through nations with the most suspect and suspicious political regimes, i.e. Pakistan’s Karakorum Range and China’s Tien Shen range.

After the normal flight out, i.e. expedition members trying with variable success to chat up other passengers, we arrived in Islamabad. In the words of a more famous writer, “it was like being slapped in the face with a warm wet nappy.” The comfort of an air conditioned hotel in nearby Rawalpindi soon overcame the humidity of the pre monsoon. Yet the smell remained pervasive, was it the open drains or just 3 men in the same room after 24 hours of travel? It didn’t matter, we soon got used to it!

Things improved still further when we met up with John’s old friend, Sajeed Shah and other members of PAFF (Pakistan’s Association of Free Flyers). They were extremely hospitable, providing an excellent welcoming BBQ and entertaining stories of their various mountain ascents, such as Masherbrum and K2, and ensuring our first aid bags were adequately provided with oromorph. This is an orally ingested morphine that can be easily administered, even to the worst of casualties.

The next four or five days were spent with Sajeed driving to launch sites in the Margalla Hills, approximately 30 minutes North West of Islamabad. Although it was great to hang out with Pakistan’s flyers, it was frustrating as temperatures were huge, humidity was high and there was very little wind coming up the awkward short and rocky launches. When the wind did come, it often preceded massive gust fronts, created by the high humidity and the huge Himalayan range 100kms to the north. This converted the apparently benign 2000m range into a single monstrous cumulonimbus with gust fronts that sent pilots scurrying for cover, tents flying away and other hysterical scenes when pilots, paddling in dinghies, were unable to control their vessels. They ended up being blown across the previously calm lake, amongst white water and spume worthy of the higher Himalayan rivers.

After one further day spent finding a better launch - where mineral excavators were persuaded to improve launches with cash incentives - in temperatures of 450C, we were unable to get high prior to the ferocious clouds building up, so we decided to head north by car. We had now met with Brad Sander and his sister Mellissa who both shared the 18 hour journey towards the old princely state of Hunza, up the Karakorum highway.

The KKH is precipitous and wonderfully engineered but suffering from significant wear due to the constant environmental stresses caused by a large temperature range, tectonic movements, unconsolidated moraines and the frequent resulting landslides. The surface is often not tarmac as it travels its way between Abbottabad and the Khunjerab Pass. This is the main route to China. Much of the way is alongside the sediment laden Indus River, which has the appearance of wet cement dark, and seems menacing, like the clouds we were trying to escape from. The activity on the highway is similarly turbulent. The coaches hoot appallingly loudly whilst weaving their way between the highly decorated old Pakistani Bedford and articulated Chinese trucks, which compete for the international trade on this vertiginous and potholed track, whilst the minibuses try to overtake everything in their way. This somehow mirrors the traders of the past wending there caravans through there whilst being harried by the local banditos. The 550km journey is less hazardous now although it is still slow.

It averaged less than 50kmh, but is worth it, as the scenery along the way is always beautiful. It includes breathtaking mountains like Nanga Parbat (8126m) which we passed early in the morning, which was already partly shrouded in cumulo-nimbus. This was unsurprising when one considers the huge lapse rates caused by the condensing humidity of the monsoon, the astronomical increase in altitude, the consequentially extreme temperature gradient and the effects of latent heat transfer. It also partly explains her other name of “Killer Mountain” and demonstrates why it particularly pertinent to paragliders, who are often sucked into these thunder clouds in the flatlands, let alone the mountains.

On arrival in Karimabad, the capital of Hunza, we soon met up with Manzoor Hussein and his Mountain Tiger jeep. He was to be our friend and fixer for our time in this area. Karimabad is overlooked by the 800 year old Baltit fort which has long helped with the defence of the realm against the many invaders, including the British, and was a sanctuary after raids against - and by - neighbours. Sorties were also run on travellers along the Silk Route which historically had many more dangers than the unforgiving terrain. Incidentally, this trait is disappearing: I and all my fellow modern travellers had great stories of the hospitality of the Pakistanis and in particular the Hunzakuts.

The fort and the valley are dominated by the many huge mountains including Rakaposhi (7778m), Diran (7257m) and Ultar peak (7388m). In fact, there are many more peaks over 7000m within sight of Baltit including Spantic (7027m). Hidden behind Ultar runs the Batura and Passu wall which is a 75km ridgeline, where most of the coIs are over 6500m and the peaks are over 7000m, crowned with Batura Muztagh (7785m). The area is also well known for its low rainfall and warm valleys where apricot, peaches and cherries are as abundant as the snow-capped peaks. Given these attributes, it is not surprising that it is increasingly becoming recognised as one of, if not, the best place in the world to fly.

During the first days the weather continued to play havoc with our flying plans. The skies often looked incredibly menacing. By 4pm there were gust fronts or micro bursts occurring as the clouds dumped huge snowfalls on the surrounding mountain slopes. The monsoon had arrived early. This explained the overdevelopment nearer to Islamabad, with its associated gust fronts, and the increased humidity in this mountain desert. Here, what little agriculture there is relies upon the astounding water channels, which are carved and engineered into the mountain faces to distribute water into the valley terraces to areas renowned worldwide for apricot production.
Despite all of that, we soon recognised that it was possible to fly. You had to watch the clouds oscillate in intensity between the snowfalls - where one cloud - say the one over Ultar would dump its snow, whilst the one over Rakaposhi would shrink. We would take off when both were shrinking which might not be until 3pm. Of course we also had to consider what the clouds towards Passu, Spantic and Shispar were doing, so it was not as easy as it sounds and not necessarily something that we would recommend to others.

On these days, only short flights were managed, but these “short flights” were incredible voyages up over Hon Pass (4600m), past Bublimotin (6000m), a rock needle with vertical elevations of 600m above a near sheer ice couloir, to Hunza Peak (6275m) and back to Karimabad via the huge bowl beneath Ultar 1 and 2 above the incredibly steep and jagged Ultar Glacier. This is a spectacular tour that would probably be impossible to achieve on foot in any season.
Many have died trying just one of those peaks. Most helicopters do not operate at those altitudes. We, meanwhile, would simply land at the cemetery or down by the beach beside the river and then nip back to hotel for a cup of chai.

Yes! Landing at the cemetery didn’t seem very respectful but we were assured it was the place. I admit, I had to alter my perception of the auspiciousness of doing a dangerous sport in a dangerous place and then to crown it all by landing in a functioning cemetery. This seemed to be tempting fate, especially landing when people were paying their respects to their departed friends and relatives. Fortunately the locals really didn’t seem to mind and the Spirits blessed us, even if they did give a warning to Brad and me. Brad, exhausted after one particularly stupendous 215km flight, misjudged his approach which forced him to land steeply upslope and almost in the lee of the cemetery promontory. He seemed happy enough anyhow.

My excuse was less noble; I simply bogged it up - maybe it was because I was nervous of the spirits. I had to bail out of the landing late and turn downwind, through a gap in the trees, whilst expecting my lines to ping or turn me in as I swooped through the narrow gap and the tip lines became entangled. Fortunately both events were just close shaves. Clearly Karimabad’s forbears were in a forgiving mood or maybe, as suggested by some of the mourning relatives, they approved of what we were doing. The living ones are definitely a fun-loving lot: they call the local moonshine, Hunza Water. This mulberry arrack was even more plentiful before Hunza lost its independent status as in the days of most of the cemetery’s residents and is firmly rooted in their culture.

Meanwhile, John and Alun got on with shooting their film, which appeared to be developing into a history of the exploration of the Karakorum by air, with some staggering footage from this and other trips by pioneering paragliding protagonists. John and Alun completed an unbelievable crossing of the Passu Massif on their tandem wing. I was stunned when I heard Alun’s account of how they soared in close to get the required altitude, and can’t wait to see the footage. Huge credit to Alun, who, suffering from the altitude and with vomit on the equipment, was still doing a sterling job of filming. I was also finding the altitude an issue, so was doing lower flights (not much above 6000m), exploring the areas to the west and searching for guidable routes and Ibex and Marco Polo sheep towards Chitral. It was an amazing solitary time with flights of over 5 hours, landing back at the beach in twilight. It was lonely, but my Axispara Vega 2 and I formed a loving and lasting relationship. Manzoor was even calling her sweet lips because of her red leading edge. The joke was, when was she going to kiss me? Thank God, she never did! It’s testament to what an upright glider she is, whilst still exciting and provocative to fly.

After approximately 2 weeks of enjoying the hospitality of Hunza, despite not seeing it at its flying best, Brad, Mellissa, Josh and Colin left for Booni, near Chitral in the west. Alun, due to other commitments, was also forced to leave for the UK’s cultural motherland of Wales. As expected, that day had perfect flying weather.

John announced on launch that his radio wasn’t working (in fact I think mine was transmitting over his) and that he was going to try to fly to Skardu, over l50 kms away with a 6000m+ col and a 45km glide down a shallow glacier. I hadn’t really responded. It took a while to process the information: 150km, no radio, incredibly inhospitable terrain. Besides, as we were a little late to launch, there was a lot to get ready. After getting to about 6000m John glided off. I stayed in the climb and followed him at about 6500m. It was hard to see his orange Addict 2 against the ochre terrain but I had a cloud to head for. After gliding for about 8kms the cloud worked its magic and I climbed in a ballistic thermal which measured 13m/s on the averager. For some of this I could see John circling someway beneath me; however I wasn’t going to wait long beneath the cloud of that climb, so, heading to the south side, I followed the cloud sometimes above its base and the ones forming in front of it towards Spantic 7027m and Golden peak. Hispar Glacier, all the way to Snow Lake looked magnificent but of course my camera was almost as frozen as I was.
The clouds were leading towards Spantic but the gaps were now large and the ground I was over was a huge crevassed glacier about 20kms long and 5 wide. I chose to alter course following a spur - not a British style spur but a 10km one crowned with a 6000m+ unnamed peak - where the valley led to Hispar valley, the Hispar glacier and ultimately Snow Lake, the second largest ice cap not on the poles. Following this “spur” and topping up with altitude en route I noticed John a little way behind and lowish, but climbing yet again on the other side of the valley. I then had to focus a little getting a snotty rough but good climb on Rash Lake (4725m) and lost sight of John again. So I continued along the ridge towards Spantic but kept an eye out for him. After about 1/2 hour of this I still couldn’t see him, so fearful of doing the col and the following glacier and 80 odd kms alone, I decided to look for him or head back to Hunza. I headed to the North side of the valley where I thought I had seen him and where I expected to get up as it was facing the sun and in the lee of the meteo wind.

Crossing the valley I was getting strong sink, but feeling committed I continued. I was also slightly worried about John and keen to put my mind at rest. Anyway, having lost most of my precious height, I discovered there was a strong valley wind and being a glaciated valley there were no spurs to soar along. There were some good thermals coming through but the drift was taking me further up the Hispar and I was already over 2 days walk to the nearest road. What to do? Work the gorges and then bar it into wind and try to keep edging into the parallel wind and annoying eddies, until I got above the valley wind and onto the higher slopes that had better aspects and where the thermals didn’t drift so much.

What a fantasy! I only made 3 kms progress in 2 hours. I was being buffeted like a yoyo but not really gaining any altitude other than the gradient of the valley. I wasn’t really scared but I knew it could get very nasty and it nearly did. I saw some dust blowing in the wind further down the valley. Having witnessed gust fronts whose only signal was a huge cloud of dust and knowing that the only place I would be able to land was the isolated, cold and serrated glacier, I straight lined for Hispar village where I landed, going gently backwards. 10 minutes later the wind increased considerably. I was down safe, a long way from Hunza and still not knowing what had happened to John.

John meanwhile, had seen me climb from the frozen Rash Lake and had headed there as I left. He was actually closer than I thought and on arriving at the lake, had got a ballistic climb. Rather than following my ridge route he had made directly to the col on Golden Peak, assuming I hadn’t been so silly as to worry about him. He’d claimed he was low to keep warm and conserve his energies for the following part of the journey. A sagely reply as he was going to need them.
On crossing the col at about 7000m, he had a nail biting, sphincter clenching flight down a glacier where he was rarely more than 1000ft above the ice for about 25kms. We’ve had many subsequent discussions about which parts of the ice created lift and why. He finally landed in the Shigar valley about 30kms short of Skardu, a flight of over 130kms through stupefying scenery, yet terrifying terrain.

The journeys back were another story. I get vertigo and despite finding a tractor that could cope with the track, it was the most loose and wobbly track I had ever been on, along an equally precipitous route with plenty of wire bridges for good measure. One of the great joys of a tractor is you can leap out it as it goes over the edge; the trick is not to do that on every bend and there were more bends than you could shake a stick at. It caused a lot of hilarity for the driver and embarrassment for me. Besides, if I had, we’d never have got back! The journey took over 5 hours without the hour it took to clear avalanche debris off the road. John on the other hand stayed the night with the local and apparently lonely male teacher and then had a 13 hr bus ride the following day to attempt further injury to his backside.

Yes, again! The following day dawned fantastically blue and stayed that way until after ten when the first very small cu started to form near Ultar peak (7388). It was a Rakaposhi day, the clouds were unlikely to overdevelop but I was the only pilot available, John was still stuck on the bus.

Whizzing up to launch with Manzoor in his trusty mountain tiger jeep I was keen to launch. There was a breeze, fantastic! But God, what a struggle to get up! The thermals were close in, squashed by the high pressure to the slope, tiny in diameter but strong. I found it hard and scary to get more than 2 turns in them. After about 1 hour of this, only gaining 1500m, I was tired and almost ready to give in. Instead I went on a long glide to where I’d noticed a regular convergence cloud, at the base of the Shispar glacier. Yes. It worked. I went up like a rocket, just adjusting the controls to stop the wing diving too radically and continued round in circles until I could make the crossing known locally as Eddie’s. It was great to be remembered from my 2001 trip. From there it was easy, although cold, to continue gliding to Chalt where I noticed some clouds forming in the middle of the valley. Crossing towards Secord peak (5800m) on Rakaposhi (7788m) I lost very little altitude arriving at about 5600m. I then spent about 2 hours trying very hard to climb Rakaposhi. Despite cloud bases approaching 7000m off the mountain I couldn’t get above 6200m on the mountain itself. Returning to Karimabad I had magical experiences eking the lift close to shepherds and their flocks. I thought I saw a herd of Ibex. I couldn’t tell anyone locally as the meat is so prized and hunting so enjoyed that it is making Ibex scarce outside of wildlife sanctuaries.

John had returned elated and exhausted after his flight. The following day dawned beautifully and we were both enthusiastic. However, on the walk to launch, John thought he had flu (he was later told it was malaria). He couldn’t move despite the wonderful conditions. It was really not wise for him to fly and he didn’t. Rather than spending a second day trying to climb Rakaposhi which still didn’t have any cumulus on it, I spent the day climbing Ultar peak. I got very close and had the most unbelievable and inexplicable time up there. Dangerously close to the peak in a hypoxic haze, I took photo after photo and even shot some film but I unfortunately couldn’t claim the peak and the camera couldn’t cope with the cold. What I did take was almost as fearfully over-exposed as I was. Despite over one hour of being about 100m below the 7388m peak that is where I remained until I couldn’t handle it anymore and just cruised out until I was at a more convivial 5500m. Finally I landed fully downwind on a sandy beach by the river, literally as the valley wind switched off. I got plenty of congratulations from John who was incredulous that I hadn’t crossed the 7200m col and circumnavigated Ultar. I’m still kicking myself for that one too. Next time, with oxygen, I hope.

John’s illness continued for about 2 weeks. Whilst waiting in Hunza, we chatted to the mainly Japanese and Korean travellers who were passing through from China. Generally, the impression was “a difficult country with a lot of red tape, but there’s alcohol and the girls are very liberated”. I carried on paragliding, although without John to compete against I was less driven. I still had some wonderfully memorable flights but they were all in the home valley of Hunza. In fact I became so familiar with the rock face on Hon that I noticed an inspiring route which wriggled its way up the precipitous peak onto the col between Sorrow peak (named by some climbers who were embarrassed not to reach the top and said too many ‘sorrys’ to the locals on their return).

The drugs finally started to work for John. As our time was running out we left for China by Pakistani bus. This should have been a fast and reliable method to get to Kasghar. The Pakistani bus was meant to take us the whole way through the various check points over the Khunjerab pass, past the ski-able Mustagh gata (7400m) and the beautiful Karakul Lake to ancient Asian crossroads of Kasghar.

On arrival at the first of many Chinese border posts we got a small taste of what was to come. John was resting, lying down outside as the very thorough security checks were being done - apparently internal searches are common. He was harshly told to stand up and I was even told to stand in line, in a queue of 4 people, as standing beside someone and chatting seemed to be prohibited.

On arrival in Tashkurgan for the final passport check (we mistakenly hoped) our bus got impounded by the Chinese customs. We were first told of this an hour after our arrival, I couldn’t find our drivers and our kit was still on the bus. On eventually finding them, comfortably ensconced in a restaurant, we were told they would not be continuing until the following morning. Our 12 hour journey was now to become 36 and involve an expensive place to stay. We managed to combine with other travellers on the bus and hire a vehicle to take us on to Kasghar some 4/5hrs distant. We left with the feeling that this was a set up between the taxi drivers, hotel owners and customs officials to extract more money from travellers.

Despite the huge improvements in the road quality, we came across 2 accidents en route; one of them was very serious, judging from the debris resembling human body parts and the condition of one of the vehicles. Reassuringly the emergency services were quick to respond. On arrival at about 2am in Kasghar we booked into the recommended Semans hotel, where a few Pakistanis were enjoying China’s more liberal attitudes to alcohol and prostitution.

At the hotel we met a number of tourist travellers who had all experienced various difficulties travelling within China, with innumerable showings of passports. Some even been forced to leave cities as they were inexplicably and without notification “off limits”; unfortunately this was a further taste of the future.

Kasghar is situated to the north of the Kun Lun, east of the Pamirs and south of the Tien Shen. Further to the west is the Taklamakan desert, which stretches for 100’s of miles and includes the Tarim basin. At more than 100m below sea level, rivers disappear into the vast expanse. The desert’s name strikes fear meaning “desert of no return” and its shifting sands hide cities of ancient Buddhist civilisations indicating a wetter time. It was our intention to fly along the Tien Shen as far as we could. It all looked perfect i.e. huge dry desert, dry stable conditions and a southish facing range stretching for further than it would be possible to fly in the time available. There was even a road along most of the intended route. None of the pilots I’d contacted had ever flown in this area and I couldn’t track anyone down who had. Those pilots who had flown in China indicated that seeking permission was not worthwhile, as no one would take the responsibility of saying yes, and that it was better to cross their hand with silver and charm them after the event. For us it was not to be that simple.

After one day driving partly with taxi drivers who’d abruptly stop in the middle of deserts and then renegotiate their fare, numerous passport checks, we’d suddenly and inexplicably be turned away and taken to a police station where it become apparent that the border to Kyrgyzstan was 100kms away. Big deal, is there a war on? No, but if you want to go there, you’ll have to back track your day’s travel and seek permission in the city police station would be the polite but persistent reply. So we did. Back into the car for another 6/7hours and more hassle in police stations, to be told “no”, but if you go further into the province and away from the Kyrgyzstan border, it should be ok. It was all very polite; in fact it became death by platitudes and seemed more effective at enraging us than Gandhi’s peaceful resistance and non-cooperation to the Raj was.

So this time we took a train for 8 hours to Aksu, a city on a river surrounded by desert and covered in coal processing plants. We fought with the taxi drivers, eventually found one who seemed to be a human being and headed towards a village in the range about 50 km away from Tuōmù'ěr Fēng which is the Tien Shen’s tallest mountain at 7,439m. However, it also marks the border between China, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan; the police in Artux had implied it would be ok but they hadn’t given us a pass.

I remember my friend, Jason Lewis, telling me that whilst completing the first solely human powered global circumnavigation, http://www.expedition360.com/ . When crossing China he’d been unable to get a long enough visa. Consequently he’d biked at night, so he could slip through the check posts silently. We used the same principle and bumped up this appalling track through the desert and up into the foothills of the Tien Shen at night, with a queue of huge 16 wheel trucks funnelling past us kicking up huge clouds of dust and making the road almost impassable. Our friendly taxi driver’s discontented mumbling began to match that of his struggling suspension and finally reached a new crescendo and the notepad was brought out again for more frantic renegotiation of the fee. At least he didn’t throw us out like one of the last ones!

Our arrival at the foothills of the tien shien in the Talamakan Desert

6 hours later and at 2.30am, we’d done brilliantly: no checkposts, we were in the mountains and couldn’t be far from our destination. Then the first and only checkpost appeared. The gatekeepers were very excited to see us and friendly and they let us through. The taxi driver took us to a building, where he woke the occupant by banging incessantly on his door, causing the 10 dogs to bark furiously. Inside the building was a shop and it was filthy. But it sold something resembling a pot noodle and beer, and apparently had rooms where we could stay: - So we sat down and had supper. Before the water had boiled, the police started arriving. By the time we’d finished eating, there were 5 in our room and about 6 “guarding” the building. Yes, they were friendly and polite, they even bought us beer, but they took our passports away, posted a guard, and didn’t let us leave the area until the following afternoon after questioning us repetitively for ages. Eventually they took us on a terrifying drive where they arrogantly sirenned their way either side of all forms of traffic, trucks, bikes, goats etc at speeds between 100-150kph back to a city just north of Aksu. This was Wensu, where we went to another police station.

By now, we had pretty much decided to leave China, as we hadn’t even got our gliders out of the bags, after travelling over 1500km, spending loads of time bumping up tracks and waiting in police stations. What we saw in Wensu convinced us China was definitely a place we didn’t want to be. On arriving at the police station John needed a pee. He was sent to the loo, which he found locked. Outside the loo there was a chair resembling a child’s high chair but adult sized with manacles on the arm rests and by the shins. John didn’t like it and mentioned it to me on his return. We were then ushered into a room with a bench, a bed, another door and a desk. As we were told to sit on the bench, the other door opened to reveal one of those terrible chairs with a rather beautiful young girl strapped in it. From her looks, she was probably of the Uyghur majority. I was certain she was drugged as her head lolled and despite looking at us she appeared not to see us. The door abruptly slammed, someone was shouted at and we were escorted out of the room. Although still polite, the mood of the police changed, cigarettes were proffered, but we were told if we continued to go to areas we were not meant to, we would be fined $5000 and that we should go and stay in the tourist hotel in the town. We nodded like obedient school kids, cowering at the alternatives; disobedience looked like the electric chair. We didn’t comment on what we’d seen but couldn’t help thinking about that poor girl - what misdemeanour might she have done and what has happened to her now?

On our release, we decided China wasn’t worth it. We didn’t want to experience the inevitable issues on landing out - that’s if we were ever allowed to launch. I even feared what an overzealous backwoods bureaucratic might do with his rifle let alone his notebook. The plan was to head back to Kasghar to watch the Olympic torch procession, prior to returning to our beloved Pakistan. We couldn’t leave Wensu quickly enough and there was a bus that evening. During the journey we were woken every hour, sometimes by the butt of the policeman’s torch. We were made to stand outside, once in one of the notorious Taklamakan sandstorms, so they could check our passports AGAIN. On arrival in Kasghar we were informed by friendly local contacts that no one was to be able to leave the hotel during the procession unless they had a pass. We would be very unlikely to get one. Furthermore public transport was going to close for the day, as was the border. We had the choice of more involuntary incarceration or heading for the border immediately. We chose the latter.

Crossing back through the Khunjerab we phoned our Kasghar friends. They were stuck in their houses and scared to talk. The other westerners were guarded about complaining about China but it was implied. Camera files had been scanned, Buddhist articles confiscated, tours curtailed or altered and there had been frequent additional fees. The moony, that a 50 yr old tourist did out of the rear window of the bus, said it all. The differences between the two countries were made more explicit by the friendly warm greeting of the Pakistani officials, “As-Salāmu `Alaykum” meaning “peace be with you”, with the gentle handshakes and smiles, goodbye to the harsh PASSPORT. Sure, the roads are worse and the economy is not expanding at anything like the same rate, but I know where I’d rather live and who I’d trust more with a peaceful unifying event such as the Olympics given the choice between a peaceful Pakistan pinned and parleying between the East/West, Christian/Muslim divide or a bureaucratic behemoth whose authorities seem to be paranoid bullies and where educated open minded people are scared to speak. China doesn’t seem ready for paragliders yet and I’m certainly not ready for China.

Our re-arrival in Hunza was beautiful, the cherries were only on the higher slopes, the peaches were now blossoming and this year’s Mulberry crop was busy being distilled. The flying was epic and more consistent. Brad even flew from Booni 215kms away in over 9 hours, an astounding flight. I did a more modest 130km out and return. I’m afraid John suffered a little more illness. We met more Hunza backpackers including the superb photographer and all round lovely person, Maddelana Arrigoni with whom I negotiated Hon Pass on foot. Considering how easy it had become to paraglide over, it was a nightmare to walk up and we frequently lost the path. We even became separated from our guide, Saddam, who had all our supplies.

Saddam is an 11yr old boy with a very difficult background, an unfortunate surname of Hussain, and was referred to by the headmaster of the school he wished to go to, as a “matchbox”. I don’t think this meant he was an arsonist; just that he was often causing trouble. Frankly, considering his background and the label he’d been given, it wasn’t surprising. He was frequently truant from school and consequently 3 years behind his year group. He was always trying to help us, during this trip and previous one and seemed particularly intelligent for a guy of his age. Although after 14 hours of walking and climbing without our precious supplies and water (they was in his bag at the bottom of the hill, with him), I was finding it hard to appreciate his help or see his intelligence. Yet, by the time I had left Hunza I had taken over responsibility for his education, paying for a private tutor to teach him 2 hours a day, 6 days a week, for a year with an emailed monthly report from his tutor. All this, for less than the average UK family’s weekly shop. The teacher in me told me it was wrong to tip someone who was playing truant. So far the reports are good and if it continues, it will be, £ for £, the most pleasurable and the most beneficial investment of my life.

UK life was catching up with me, forcing a return. John had already returned to his family and Snowdonia. The monsoon was still in the Punjab, the clouds around Nanga Parbat would be even larger than before and the extra baggage I’d acquired made a vol biv return too difficult. I returned to Islamabad by bus, much of the way on the roof. I had a lovely time being shown around sites by Hilary, a new friend from the Dubai waiting lounge. Murree, a hill station near Islamabad, could be a great flying destination although when I was there it was in cloud. The high street was as busy as Weymouth on a bank holiday weekend. The monsoon flooding in Islamabad was impressive; the highways became torrents; the open drains and manholes became invisible with people and cars falling into them and waterfalls appeared from the flyovers. Despite the job Hilary and others were doing with the 2000 hectare site outside the city, the infrastructure of the old city was suffering. We also had to negotiate our car around bomb blasts including one where the police station had been targeted. The officer I spoke to seemed very philosophical, asking me what to do but then replying to his own question – “carry on trying to do our best”. The Pakistani nation seems to do just that, whilst living at a harsh geo-political cross road. It’s no surprise the Karakorum is growing so fast and the Pakistanis are doing such a good job parleying between east and west. What a great philosophy for me to take away.

The Bradford Kashmiris I met in the airport had a bit of a grumble about the scrutiny they and their bags had suffered in Pakistan. When I described our ordeals in China and pointed out Pakistan and Kashmir were technically at war they were much more accepting of their inconvenience. On my eventual re-arrival in the UK, I couldn’t understand why I was clinging on for dear life in the car. I figured it wasn’t Jim’s relatively fast driving, it was just that I was constantly on edge waiting for the unlit truck or the motorcyclist travelling the wrong way up the dual carriageway. I’m looking forward very much to my return to Pakistan, but I’ll leave China to the Chinese and the Olympics.

Nail biting or sphincter clenching?

2008-06-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

One of those crazy things about flying is being dependent on the weather. Regardless of how frustrating it can be, in my experience it's never worth letting that frustration get to you, after all it's out of your control, rather like internet connections in the Karakorum!!
For example no sooner had Alun decided he couldn't wait another day for filming Rakaposhi it got flyable, in fact, really flyable. It fact it was fantastic. We could see the bases were higher and the clouds slower to develop. John and I had decided to stay and enjoy some of the fabulous flying that Hunza has to offer before continuing our adventure into China.

The first day John and I set off from Karimabad together. John had announced on launch that his radio wasn’t working and that he was going to try to fly to Skardu, over 150kms away with a 6000m+ col and a 45km glide down a shallow glacier. I hadn’t really responded, it took a while to process the information: 150km, no radio, incredibly inhospitable terrain, and as we were a little late to launch there was a lot to get ready. After getting to about 6000m John glided off, I stayed in the climb and followed him at about 6500. It was hard to see his orange Addict 2 against the ochre terrain but I had a cloud to head to. After gliding for about 8kms the cloud worked its magic and I climbed in a ballistic 13m/s on the averager.

For some of this I could see John circling someway beneath me however I wasn’t going to wait beneath that climb! So heading to the south side of the climb I followed the cloud sometimes above its base and the ones forming in front of it towards Spantic 7027m and Golden peak. Hispar Glacier all the way to Snow Lake looked magnificent but of course my camera was almost as frozen as I was.

The clouds were leading towards Spantic, however the gaps were now large and the ground I was over was a huge crevassed glacier, about 20kms long and 5 wide. I chose to alter course following a spur, not a Britsh style spur, a 10km one crowned with a 6000m+ unnamed peak and where the valley led to Hispar valley, glacier and ultimately Snow lake, the largest ice cap not on the poles. Following this "spur" and topping up with altitude on route I noticed John a little way behind and lowish but climbing on the other side of the valley.

I then had to focus a little getting a good but snotty climb on Rash Lake and lost sight of John again. So I continued along the ridge towards Spantic but kept an eye out for John where I last saw him. After about ½ hour of this I still could see him so fearful of doing the col and the following glacier and 80 odd kms I decided to look for him or head back to Hunza so I headed to the North side of the valley where I expected to get up as it was facing sun and in the lee of the meteo wind.

However, crossing the valley I was getting strong sink, but feeling committed I continued. I was also slightly worried about John and keen to put my mind at rest. Anyway having lost most of my precious height I discovered there was a strong valley wind and being a glaciated valley no spurs to soar along. There were some good thermals coming through but the drift was taking me further up the Hispar and I was already over 2 days walk to the nearest road. What to do? Work the gorges and then bar it into wind and try to keep edging in until I got above the valley wind and onto the higher slopes that had better aspects and where the thermals didn’t drift so much.
Guess what? It was fantasy! I only made 3 kms progress in 2 hours, I was being buffeted like a yoyo but not really gaining any altitude other than the gradient of the valley. I wasn’t really scared but I knew it could get very scary and it did. I saw some dust blowing in the wind further down the valley. After witnessing some gust fronts here where sometimes their only signal was the huge amount of dust and knowing that the only place I had to run was the isolation, cold and dodgy landing ground of a glacier. I made a beeline for Hispar village where I landed going gently backwards.

10 mins later the wind increased considerably. But I was down safe and a long way from Hunza and still not knowing what had happened to John.

John meanwhile, had seen me climb from the frozen Rash Lake and had headed there as I left. He was actually closer than I thought, and on arriving at the lake, he had got a ballistic climb and rather than following my ridge route had made directly to the col on Golden Peak assuming I hadn’t been so silly as to worry about him. He’d claimed he was low to keep warm and conserve his energies for the following part of the journey.

On crossing the col at about 7000m he had a nail biting, sphincter clenching flight down a glacier where he was rarely more than 1000ft above the ice for about 25kms. We’ve had many subsequent discussions about which parts of the ice created lift and why?!? He finally landed in the Shigar valley about 30kms short of Skardu. A flight of over 130kms through unbelievable scenery yet terrifying terrain.

The journeys back were another story. I think it’s important to realize that I get vertigo and despite finding a tractor that could cope with the track. There was no denying that it was the most loose and wobbly track I had ever been along and it was along the most precipitous routes ever. One of the great joys of a tractor is you can leap out it as it goes over the edge. The trick is not to do that on every bend. It causes a lot of hilarity for the driver and embarrassment for me. Besides the journey took over 5 hours without the hour it took to clear avalanche debris and there were more bends than you could shake a stick at. John on the other hand stayed the night with the local teacher and then had a 13 hr bus ride the following day.

Yes! the following day dawned fantastically blue and stayed that way until after ten when the first very small cu started to form near Ultar peak (7388). It was a Rakaposhi day and I was the only pilot available, John still being stuck on the bus.

Whizzing up to launch, with Manzoor in his trusty mountain tiger jeep I was keen to launch. There was a breeze fantastic! But god, what a struggle to get up. The thermals were close in, tiny but strong, and I found it hard and scary to get more than 2 turns in them. After about 1 hour of this only gaining 1500m I was tired and almost ready to give in. Instead I went on a long glide to where I’d noticed a regular convergence cloud at the base of the Shispar glacier. Yes. It worked I went up like a rocket, just holding onto the controls to stop the wing diving too radically and continued round in circles until I could make the crossing known locally as Eddie’s. From there it was easy although cold to continue gliding to Chalt where I noticed some clouds forming in the middle of the valley. Crossing towards Secord peak (5800m) on Rakaposhi (7788m) I lost very little altitude arriving at about 5600m. I then spent about 2 hours trying very hard to climb Rakaposhi. Despite cloudbases approaching 7000m off the mountain I couldn’t get above 6200m on the mountain itself. Returning to Karimabad I had magical experience eking the lift close to shepherds and their flocks and thinking I saw a herd of Ibex. I couldn’t tell anyone locally as the meat is so prized they’re scarce outside of wildlife sanctuaries.

John had returned elated and exhausted after his flight. The following day dawned beautifully. We were both enthusiastic. However on the walk to launch, John realized he had flu. He couldn’t move, despite the wonderful conditions it was really not wise for him to fly and he didn’t. Rather than spending a second day trying to climb Rakaposhi which still didn’t have any cumulus actually on it, I spent the day climbing Ultar peak. I got very close, had the most unbelievable and inexplicable time up there. I took loads of photos and film in a hypoxic haze dangerously close to the peak but couldn't quite claim the peak. Despite over 1 hour of being about 100m below that is where I remained until I couldn’t handle it anymore and just cruised around the valley at a more convivial 5500m until I land fully downwind on a sandy beach by the river literally as the valley wind switched off.

Somewhere versus Nowhere

2008-05-25T00:39:00.000-07:00

After enjoying the incredible hospitality of the Pakistan free flyers in Islamabad and 5 days of struggling with impossible launches and overdevelopment whose gust fronts sent dinghies careering across lakes; John and Alun and I took the initiative and bussed it to Karimabad in the Hunza valley to enjoy the stupendous flying of the area amongst its many peaks of over 7000m.

In Hunza we met up with US pilot adventurer Brad Sander, his sister Melissa and their friends; Canadian Josh and Brit Colin Hawke.

Despite the continuing poor conditions, some amazing flying has been had with John and Alun flying and filming on the Batura Wall crossing 6000m+cols; Brad and Melissa taking their tandem to 6700m and me doing an 70 ish km out and return eking out the final 30kms as the sun set on the mountain tops and it was already darkish in the valley bottoms. Thank the gods for the full moon! Colin and Josh have had great flights acclimatising and enjoying the views at about 5500m. With all this we have being returning to Karimabad for easy and comfortable evenings.

Alun has found the tandem flying in the Karakorum alot more demanding than Nepal.The strong thermals, tight turns,combined with the extreme cold and altitude has made his role as cameraman arduous. But he has somehow persevered.and only needs one more day of flying (on 7788m Rakaposhi !) to have it in the can.

The vol biv adventure will recommence when Alun leaves us and John and I will continue our adventures into China. I have extended my trip until the end of June and it is my and John's intention that more of the unexplored regions of these magnificent ranges will be flown soon.

Where are they?

2008-05-20T15:08:00.000-07:00

John and Eddie are currently in Pakistan attempting to fly from Islamabad up to Hunza and beyond. They've been gone for over two weeks and I haven't heard a squeak from them. Hopefully no news is good news and they are bivvying out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by some of the highest mountains in the world.

More news as (if?) it comes in.

Spring already doing its thing in Bir

2008-03-26T21:32:00.000-07:00

Just back in Delhi from Bir on my way home to the UK after some fantastic flying from Billing. Got to Manali with my old mate Andy Harland on March 21st, helped by a 5500m cloudbase which made the flying technically easy but physically tough. It was VERY cold. I don't know how John and Ed deal with going over 7000m in Pakistan. Good luck to them. My camera battery died with the cold that day, but on the next base was a mere 4700m and I managed to get a few shots of me and my feet (I was all alone) as I flew the high route to Dharamshala and back, via the big stuff over the back. Two dream flights in two days!

Eddie and John off to Karakorum

2008-03-24T13:12:00.001-07:00

We're off this April to the Karakorum. We're planning some major vol Biv. It will include flying close to many 7000m mountains and definitely 1 of over 8,000, maybe more.
Shit thats going to be cold and as it's Vol Biv there's no way we can carry the oxygen.
To put youself more in the picture of where we are going; check these out:

http://jaycut.com/media/preview/44267 of John and my first flying trip to the Karakorum (2002). I thought you might like these ones of Johns more recent ones to the same area. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51iRA3ArJeo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bfm5bArmX3U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gppdNjaZ6Mo

and of course there's John and Alun's award winning "Nowhere" film - www.flyskyhigh.net

Can't wait. Should be brilliant. Loads of stories to tell, not just the flying. We'll keep you informed on our return.

we're back now - back there soon!

2007-12-05T12:22:00.000-08:00

John and Eddie have now got back from India. Jim is still there and because we had so much fun we're already planning our Oct-Nov 2008 trip. We weren't the only people to have such an incredible time. In fact, everyone did.

Go on Guys feel free to confirm this stick you thoughts and deeds down on this blog.

Please feel free to add a photo, video image or link to back up you thoughts. Don't worry I've still got ultimate power of edit!

I’ve put a few up. I know they’re not my own photos so please tell me who took them so I can give the credit to the correct photographers.

Dave's photos

2007-12-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

Dave was always there with a camera in hand. View some of his photos at:-

http://www.pbase.com/tweedie/india_2007 .

Maurice getting high over the back with Jim

2007-12-04T12:03:00.000-08:00

Maurice at about 4200m on the 360 day