Sunday, June 15, 2008
North side of Chabre: picture
This shows the north side of Chabre, the mountain that pilots launch from. When there is a north wind blowing, this is what they fly.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Stormwatching
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Attila Bertok: interview with a World Champion
Attila Bertok is the current World Champion. He gave us an exclusive interview. Here it is. Thanks to Richard Tabaka of idstudio.com.au for the pictures.


ATTILA BERTOK started flying in 1981 in Hungary. He was crowned the 16th World Champion after winning the World Hang Gliding Championships in Big Spring, Texas, USA in August 2007.
At that competition Attila led from the outset by winning the first three days and staying top for the rest of the competition.
A resident of Australia since 1992, Attila is sponsored by Moyes, a hang gliding manufacturer. He lives in Sydney and is married with a six-year-old daughter.
Perhaps surprisingly for a world champion, Attila is not a fulltime professional pilot. Instead he works as a design engineer for a printer developer company. As he puts it: “I am not making a living out of flying.”
He will be defending his title at Laragne in 2009 and flying at the Pre-Worlds in 2008. He is literally, the one to beat.
Attila, congratulations on winning the title in 2007. How and when did you start flying?
It will be 27 years in September 2008. I’ve been competing for 24 years. I started in Hungary in 1981 after seeing an advert from a local club. It was basically the traditional way – starting from low hills, lots of work, short glides for a couple of seconds, at best for a minute.
You’re World Champion. Describe the journey to get to that point.
Well, it started such a long time ago that the beginning is really just a couple of flashes in my memory now. The journey was worth it though. For all the memories of flying, all the people I got to know. And realizing more and more strongly over the years that our purpose on this beautiful earth is more to do with having fun, and collecting pleasant memories, than making the bank account thicker.
What does the title mean to you?
A sense that I've completed a task and proved to myself that against the odds I am capable of reaching the peak in my chosen sport. It is good to have the title and belong to the club of the other World Champions – to the other guys I looked up to over the years, and still do.
You are coming to Laragne to defend the title in 2009. How will you prepare for that?
Since I am a "permanently semi-retired" pilot, meaning that I rarely fly apart from the competitions, probably three or four comps a year, I don't do too much preparation.
I'll try to go to the site a few days earlier to do a couple of relaxing flights and get into competition mood when the event starts. I listen to the other people who were at the site before. This means basically everyone apart from myself, but I try to turn this to my advantage.
The biggest challenge is to keep the pressure down from my own expectations and take it easy in the first few days until I really got into race mode again.
How do you prepare for the ‘head game’ in competition?
I read as many books or articles on the subject as possible, but every day is different. I just stay relaxed and focused and make the maximum out of every situation. And disregard everything that is not important. The task is the same for everyone, so is the weather. The rest is up to me.
What are your most memorable flights? What are your records?
There are many. One of them is the last flight in Texas on the World Championship and the emotional rollercoaster that comes with such a flight. [Attila was high and half way through the course, well on his way to becoming World Champion, when he realised his GPS had locked up. The instrument was no longer recording, meaning any flight would be invalid and he would lose the title. He ended up spending a long time derigging his electronic equipment in the air as he raced, nearly dropping everything in the process. He eventually managed to change the batteries and restart the GPS, but slipped several places while doing it. In the end he won the title by only 16 points, due mainly to this incident].
Also, we had a great flight a few years ago in Hay in not so great weather. We ended up flying over 260km which we thought was not possible.
I also had a 407km flight when I was sure that I would break the world record (it was 495km back then) and I ended up landing early after five hours 45 minutes because the weather died completely. I was still happy. It remains my longest flight.
I had a 163km flight in 1989 in Hungary. The next best was 22km on the same day, I thought I was invincible! I did it with a glider which we built in a basement with my friend.
We had a task during the Worlds in the Owens Valley, USA, when I and many others got up to 6300m in a glass smooth 10m/s (2000 feet/min) lift in the Sierra-wave (I think) and we still were not at cloudbase. We then had to glide for 50km before hitting more lift, but eventually we stayed airborne.
Crossing the Great Dividing Range in Australia from Beechmont, Queensland, for my first time also stands out.
Also in Australia we had a little camp in Wilcannia in 2000 to break a few world records. I got the fastest 200km triangle world record, which still stands.
But the most remarkable was to complete a 300km triangle with Tomas Suchanek for the first time in hang gliding history. It didn't get ratified, because the paperwork was screwed up. But as far as I know there is only one more completed triangle to date over 300km with a flexwing hang glider, which Tomas did a few days after that flight. On that day I flew about eight hours and 305km, my longest duration.
We did an unfinished 300km attempt about a year ago from Manilla, NSW, Australia, with Gerolf. We both went over 300km, but we didn't complete the flight. The stupidity was, that we didn't look out the window in the motel in the morning, and therefore we wasted about two hours flyable weather. Some 380km to 400 km would have been possible on that day. But what a feeling to land after sunset!
There was a great one with Lucas Bader a few years ago from Manilla to near the coast. That was only 200km, but the scenery was simply breathtaking.
There are many more. Some were great for the scenery, some for the achievement, some for the camaraderie
Almost all of my great memories are great because there were other people involved in it and we could share the memories. That's all you’ve got at the end. That little film playing in your head over and over.
Do you ever get scared?
Not really. Sometimes when the weather becomes difficult, like thunderstorms. When I was younger I got sucked up in a storm and I was very happy to stay on the ground alive.
Have you ever had any accidents?
I nearly broke my neck in Hungary at the Europeans in 1996. Basically, I turned to tailwind with no speed left close to the ground and landed on my head. Apart from the plaster collar around my neck I could keep flying. But since then, I've learned that the flight finishes with the landing – and not when I cross the goal line.
What’s the worst thing that has happened to you in the sport?
When somebody died who I knew closely. Unfortunately there is more than one example. On a less serious tone it makes me sad when we forget that we are here for the challenge and the enjoyment.
And the best?
Being able to fly after this many years and still enjoy it!
Do you think flying hang gliders is dangerous?
Not inherently, but it requires proper judgement. Most accidents are due to human error.
How do you describe what flying feels like to someone who has never flown before?
Very much like in your dreams. Just start to run on a slope and all of a sudden you are up there. And the view is pretty good. But the truth is that you cannot really dream this feeling, you have to experience it.
If someone said why you fly? What would you tell them?
Because there is no other feeling like it. The rest is just a bonus.
What advice would you give someone who wanted to start out in the sport?
Be patient. For different reasons, but everyone I know enjoys hang gliding one way or another. We do this for fun!
This article was re-published on Cross Country magazine's website. Read, Attila Bertok: Hang gliding champion


ATTILA BERTOK started flying in 1981 in Hungary. He was crowned the 16th World Champion after winning the World Hang Gliding Championships in Big Spring, Texas, USA in August 2007.
At that competition Attila led from the outset by winning the first three days and staying top for the rest of the competition.
A resident of Australia since 1992, Attila is sponsored by Moyes, a hang gliding manufacturer. He lives in Sydney and is married with a six-year-old daughter.
Perhaps surprisingly for a world champion, Attila is not a fulltime professional pilot. Instead he works as a design engineer for a printer developer company. As he puts it: “I am not making a living out of flying.”
He will be defending his title at Laragne in 2009 and flying at the Pre-Worlds in 2008. He is literally, the one to beat.
Attila, congratulations on winning the title in 2007. How and when did you start flying?
It will be 27 years in September 2008. I’ve been competing for 24 years. I started in Hungary in 1981 after seeing an advert from a local club. It was basically the traditional way – starting from low hills, lots of work, short glides for a couple of seconds, at best for a minute.
You’re World Champion. Describe the journey to get to that point.
Well, it started such a long time ago that the beginning is really just a couple of flashes in my memory now. The journey was worth it though. For all the memories of flying, all the people I got to know. And realizing more and more strongly over the years that our purpose on this beautiful earth is more to do with having fun, and collecting pleasant memories, than making the bank account thicker.
What does the title mean to you?
A sense that I've completed a task and proved to myself that against the odds I am capable of reaching the peak in my chosen sport. It is good to have the title and belong to the club of the other World Champions – to the other guys I looked up to over the years, and still do.
You are coming to Laragne to defend the title in 2009. How will you prepare for that?
Since I am a "permanently semi-retired" pilot, meaning that I rarely fly apart from the competitions, probably three or four comps a year, I don't do too much preparation.
I'll try to go to the site a few days earlier to do a couple of relaxing flights and get into competition mood when the event starts. I listen to the other people who were at the site before. This means basically everyone apart from myself, but I try to turn this to my advantage.
The biggest challenge is to keep the pressure down from my own expectations and take it easy in the first few days until I really got into race mode again.
How do you prepare for the ‘head game’ in competition?
I read as many books or articles on the subject as possible, but every day is different. I just stay relaxed and focused and make the maximum out of every situation. And disregard everything that is not important. The task is the same for everyone, so is the weather. The rest is up to me.
What are your most memorable flights? What are your records?
There are many. One of them is the last flight in Texas on the World Championship and the emotional rollercoaster that comes with such a flight. [Attila was high and half way through the course, well on his way to becoming World Champion, when he realised his GPS had locked up. The instrument was no longer recording, meaning any flight would be invalid and he would lose the title. He ended up spending a long time derigging his electronic equipment in the air as he raced, nearly dropping everything in the process. He eventually managed to change the batteries and restart the GPS, but slipped several places while doing it. In the end he won the title by only 16 points, due mainly to this incident].
Also, we had a great flight a few years ago in Hay in not so great weather. We ended up flying over 260km which we thought was not possible.
I also had a 407km flight when I was sure that I would break the world record (it was 495km back then) and I ended up landing early after five hours 45 minutes because the weather died completely. I was still happy. It remains my longest flight.
I had a 163km flight in 1989 in Hungary. The next best was 22km on the same day, I thought I was invincible! I did it with a glider which we built in a basement with my friend.
We had a task during the Worlds in the Owens Valley, USA, when I and many others got up to 6300m in a glass smooth 10m/s (2000 feet/min) lift in the Sierra-wave (I think) and we still were not at cloudbase. We then had to glide for 50km before hitting more lift, but eventually we stayed airborne.
Crossing the Great Dividing Range in Australia from Beechmont, Queensland, for my first time also stands out.
Also in Australia we had a little camp in Wilcannia in 2000 to break a few world records. I got the fastest 200km triangle world record, which still stands.
But the most remarkable was to complete a 300km triangle with Tomas Suchanek for the first time in hang gliding history. It didn't get ratified, because the paperwork was screwed up. But as far as I know there is only one more completed triangle to date over 300km with a flexwing hang glider, which Tomas did a few days after that flight. On that day I flew about eight hours and 305km, my longest duration.
We did an unfinished 300km attempt about a year ago from Manilla, NSW, Australia, with Gerolf. We both went over 300km, but we didn't complete the flight. The stupidity was, that we didn't look out the window in the motel in the morning, and therefore we wasted about two hours flyable weather. Some 380km to 400 km would have been possible on that day. But what a feeling to land after sunset!
There was a great one with Lucas Bader a few years ago from Manilla to near the coast. That was only 200km, but the scenery was simply breathtaking.
There are many more. Some were great for the scenery, some for the achievement, some for the camaraderie
Almost all of my great memories are great because there were other people involved in it and we could share the memories. That's all you’ve got at the end. That little film playing in your head over and over.
Do you ever get scared?
Not really. Sometimes when the weather becomes difficult, like thunderstorms. When I was younger I got sucked up in a storm and I was very happy to stay on the ground alive.
Have you ever had any accidents?
I nearly broke my neck in Hungary at the Europeans in 1996. Basically, I turned to tailwind with no speed left close to the ground and landed on my head. Apart from the plaster collar around my neck I could keep flying. But since then, I've learned that the flight finishes with the landing – and not when I cross the goal line.
What’s the worst thing that has happened to you in the sport?
When somebody died who I knew closely. Unfortunately there is more than one example. On a less serious tone it makes me sad when we forget that we are here for the challenge and the enjoyment.
And the best?
Being able to fly after this many years and still enjoy it!
Do you think flying hang gliders is dangerous?
Not inherently, but it requires proper judgement. Most accidents are due to human error.
How do you describe what flying feels like to someone who has never flown before?
Very much like in your dreams. Just start to run on a slope and all of a sudden you are up there. And the view is pretty good. But the truth is that you cannot really dream this feeling, you have to experience it.
If someone said why you fly? What would you tell them?
Because there is no other feeling like it. The rest is just a bonus.
What advice would you give someone who wanted to start out in the sport?
Be patient. For different reasons, but everyone I know enjoys hang gliding one way or another. We do this for fun!
This article was re-published on Cross Country magazine's website. Read, Attila Bertok: Hang gliding champion
Q&A: Beginner's guide to hang gliding
If you don't know what hang gliding is, here's our easy-read introduction to the sport.
Don’t tell me, I’ve seen this before. They’re like flying paperclips, right?
Not quite. Hang gliding is an air sport in which trained pilots fly a glider using only the wind and thermals to stay aloft. There is no motor involved, not even to get into the air. The glider is fully controllable – pilots can land where and when they want and travel big distances. The world distance record is over 700km. It’s the closest man has got to flying like a bird.
Are they really hanging there?
In the very early days of the sport – the early 1970s – pilots would literally hang by their arms onto the base bar of the glider. The trick was only to go as high as you dared fall. Obviously this meant very short flights on small hills. But the gliders and the sport developed, so now the pilots are suspended securely in a harness.
How do they fly?
The pilot is suspended in a harness beneath a nine-metre sail – the wing – which is made of fabric stretched over an aluminium or graphite frame. He or she can move themselves around like a pendulum underneath the wing by holding onto an aluminium A-frame. When the pilot shifts left the wing banks left and they start to turn. To speed up pilots pull themselves through the A-frame, the weight shifts forward and the hang glider goes into a nose-down position. To slow down the pilot pushes the bar away from them and the wing’s nose lifts up slightly, and the glider slows down.
It looks graceful in the air, but sort of heavy on the ground. How do they launch?
Three ways. In foot launching the pilot faces into the wind and runs down a slope until airborne. This is how the pilots at this competition will get into the air. Where there are no hills to launch from hang gliders can be towed up behind a vehicle, winch or boat before the pilot releases themselves at their desired height. In aerotowing a microlight tows the hang glider up to between 1,000ft and 3,000ft before launching.
Are they heavy?
Between 26kg and 35kg. About the weight of a large overpacked suitcase.
So how do they fly?
The glider’s shape creates lift. Just like a paper plane launched from your hand, when a hang glider launches it will glide safely to the bottom of the hill.
What if they hit an air pocket?
There’s no such thing. “Air pocket” implies there is a sudden gap in the air – that’s impossible. What people mean when they talk about air pockets is turbulent air. That happens all the time. But the trick to flying a hang glider well is to understand the weather and not fly where there is too much turbulence. It’s like sailing – you don’t leave harbour when a storm is forecast. You don’t fly in turbulence. Even if you do, the glider won’t collapse or fall out of the sky – the pilot will just have a bumpy ride until they reach smoother air, or land.
So how do they stay up in the air and travel big distances?
To stay up pilots have to find lifting air. They do that in two ways: dynamic lift and thermal lift. Dynamic lift is caused by wind rising when it hits a slope. Have you seen birds soaring above a cliff on a breezy day? That’s dynamic lift.
And thermic lift?
That’s caused by the sun heating the ground. When a patch of ground – say a rocky hillside – gets hot enough it starts to heat the air above it. Hot air rises – that’s your thermal. The trick to flying distance – and competitions – is to find a thermal, use it to get as high as you can, and then fly off to find another one.
How do they do that?
That’s the difficult bit. Experience, judgment, skill and some luck all play their part. In a competition like this where you have the best pilots in the world competing there is a lot of experience, so pilots will fly for long distances and cover the ground quickly.
Why do they fly around in circles?
That’s called thermalling. It’s how pilots stay in the lifting air. Thermals can be small and flying in a circle is the most efficient way of staying in it.
So how do hang gliding competitions work?
Typically they take place over a week or two. Each day a task will be set. This depends on what the weather is like, but a “good” task will involve flying around a course of 100km or more, passing several checkpoints. It’s like aerial orienteering. The fastest pilot to the final checkpoint – the goal – wins the day. Win enough days and you win the competition. A team competition runs alongside the individual competitions. A typical task will see pilots take off at 11am and land by 5pm – up to six hours in the air. It’s hard work.
If you’re up there for six hours, how do you … you know?
Pilots can eat, drink and take photographs fairly easily in the air. In the old days one or two have even rolled cigarettes. But relieving yourself is tricky. Some pilots use a tube that they tape to their leg and down to their shoe, others unzip in the air and … well, you get the idea. Others, including most women, just have to hang on, although there are ways, including adult nappies. It makes watching landings fun when pilots have to rush to get out of their harness and behind a tree.
I have to ask, is it dangerous?
It’s an adventure sport, not an extreme one. So yes, there is an element of danger and sadly accidents do happen. Accidents happen mainly on take off and landing. It is very rare for people to “fall out of the sky” for no reason. Good training, experience, and flying within your limits all help reduce accidents. Some of the pilots at this competition have been flying safely for 30 years or more. Unfortunately, when accidents do happen they tend to be serious ones. It’s the nature of the sport and all pilots know that, and accept the risks involved.
Sounds serious
It is. It’s a serious sport. The pilots involved are dedicated and work hard. Some put everything they have into flying competitively, spend all their savings, live simply, and work to fly. Most competition pilots will spend more on traveling to a competition than they ever get back from the sport either in sponsorship or prize money. So they are sports people in the truest sense – doing it because they love it and because the personal rewards are so great.
Tell me about the rewards
When you are flying several thousand feet above the mountains, tucked in close to the base of a cloud, with your friends near by, and incredible scenery laid out before you it’s pretty special. When you’ve been reading books all winter about flying, and then put that theory into practice on the first day of the Spring season and it all clicks into place, that’s great. When you fly a competition against rivals who are really your best friends and you all land in the same field, that’s incredible. When you sit around the campfire at night and trade stories from the clouds it feels like …
OK, I get the point. How do I learn?
Your country will have a hang gliding association. They will be on the web. Learn with them. It’s the only way to do it. There will be clubs across your country, and once you’ve learned the basics you will be able to fly with them. You will never look back – just up.
This article is also on Cross Country magazine. Read, Hang gliding: A beginner's guide
Don’t tell me, I’ve seen this before. They’re like flying paperclips, right?
Not quite. Hang gliding is an air sport in which trained pilots fly a glider using only the wind and thermals to stay aloft. There is no motor involved, not even to get into the air. The glider is fully controllable – pilots can land where and when they want and travel big distances. The world distance record is over 700km. It’s the closest man has got to flying like a bird.
Are they really hanging there?
In the very early days of the sport – the early 1970s – pilots would literally hang by their arms onto the base bar of the glider. The trick was only to go as high as you dared fall. Obviously this meant very short flights on small hills. But the gliders and the sport developed, so now the pilots are suspended securely in a harness.
How do they fly?
The pilot is suspended in a harness beneath a nine-metre sail – the wing – which is made of fabric stretched over an aluminium or graphite frame. He or she can move themselves around like a pendulum underneath the wing by holding onto an aluminium A-frame. When the pilot shifts left the wing banks left and they start to turn. To speed up pilots pull themselves through the A-frame, the weight shifts forward and the hang glider goes into a nose-down position. To slow down the pilot pushes the bar away from them and the wing’s nose lifts up slightly, and the glider slows down.
It looks graceful in the air, but sort of heavy on the ground. How do they launch?
Three ways. In foot launching the pilot faces into the wind and runs down a slope until airborne. This is how the pilots at this competition will get into the air. Where there are no hills to launch from hang gliders can be towed up behind a vehicle, winch or boat before the pilot releases themselves at their desired height. In aerotowing a microlight tows the hang glider up to between 1,000ft and 3,000ft before launching.
Are they heavy?
Between 26kg and 35kg. About the weight of a large overpacked suitcase.
So how do they fly?
The glider’s shape creates lift. Just like a paper plane launched from your hand, when a hang glider launches it will glide safely to the bottom of the hill.
What if they hit an air pocket?
There’s no such thing. “Air pocket” implies there is a sudden gap in the air – that’s impossible. What people mean when they talk about air pockets is turbulent air. That happens all the time. But the trick to flying a hang glider well is to understand the weather and not fly where there is too much turbulence. It’s like sailing – you don’t leave harbour when a storm is forecast. You don’t fly in turbulence. Even if you do, the glider won’t collapse or fall out of the sky – the pilot will just have a bumpy ride until they reach smoother air, or land.
So how do they stay up in the air and travel big distances?
To stay up pilots have to find lifting air. They do that in two ways: dynamic lift and thermal lift. Dynamic lift is caused by wind rising when it hits a slope. Have you seen birds soaring above a cliff on a breezy day? That’s dynamic lift.
And thermic lift?
That’s caused by the sun heating the ground. When a patch of ground – say a rocky hillside – gets hot enough it starts to heat the air above it. Hot air rises – that’s your thermal. The trick to flying distance – and competitions – is to find a thermal, use it to get as high as you can, and then fly off to find another one.
How do they do that?
That’s the difficult bit. Experience, judgment, skill and some luck all play their part. In a competition like this where you have the best pilots in the world competing there is a lot of experience, so pilots will fly for long distances and cover the ground quickly.
Why do they fly around in circles?
That’s called thermalling. It’s how pilots stay in the lifting air. Thermals can be small and flying in a circle is the most efficient way of staying in it.
So how do hang gliding competitions work?
Typically they take place over a week or two. Each day a task will be set. This depends on what the weather is like, but a “good” task will involve flying around a course of 100km or more, passing several checkpoints. It’s like aerial orienteering. The fastest pilot to the final checkpoint – the goal – wins the day. Win enough days and you win the competition. A team competition runs alongside the individual competitions. A typical task will see pilots take off at 11am and land by 5pm – up to six hours in the air. It’s hard work.
If you’re up there for six hours, how do you … you know?
Pilots can eat, drink and take photographs fairly easily in the air. In the old days one or two have even rolled cigarettes. But relieving yourself is tricky. Some pilots use a tube that they tape to their leg and down to their shoe, others unzip in the air and … well, you get the idea. Others, including most women, just have to hang on, although there are ways, including adult nappies. It makes watching landings fun when pilots have to rush to get out of their harness and behind a tree.
I have to ask, is it dangerous?
It’s an adventure sport, not an extreme one. So yes, there is an element of danger and sadly accidents do happen. Accidents happen mainly on take off and landing. It is very rare for people to “fall out of the sky” for no reason. Good training, experience, and flying within your limits all help reduce accidents. Some of the pilots at this competition have been flying safely for 30 years or more. Unfortunately, when accidents do happen they tend to be serious ones. It’s the nature of the sport and all pilots know that, and accept the risks involved.
Sounds serious
It is. It’s a serious sport. The pilots involved are dedicated and work hard. Some put everything they have into flying competitively, spend all their savings, live simply, and work to fly. Most competition pilots will spend more on traveling to a competition than they ever get back from the sport either in sponsorship or prize money. So they are sports people in the truest sense – doing it because they love it and because the personal rewards are so great.
Tell me about the rewards
When you are flying several thousand feet above the mountains, tucked in close to the base of a cloud, with your friends near by, and incredible scenery laid out before you it’s pretty special. When you’ve been reading books all winter about flying, and then put that theory into practice on the first day of the Spring season and it all clicks into place, that’s great. When you fly a competition against rivals who are really your best friends and you all land in the same field, that’s incredible. When you sit around the campfire at night and trade stories from the clouds it feels like …
OK, I get the point. How do I learn?
Your country will have a hang gliding association. They will be on the web. Learn with them. It’s the only way to do it. There will be clubs across your country, and once you’ve learned the basics you will be able to fly with them. You will never look back – just up.
This article is also on Cross Country magazine. Read, Hang gliding: A beginner's guide
Weather pics
Weather watching
We are waiting for the weather... it has been raining for weeks. The resevoirs are full and the fields have been flooded. There are 120 paraglider pilots in town waiting for the sky to clear from grey to blue. 'Charts are all over the place' a wise local said this morning.
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