THE EARLY BIRD
sets off at sunrise for a tandem hang-gliding flight
HANG-GLIDING pilots are a rare species but North West has a gaggle, who fly from Aviators Paradise near Hartbeespoort Dam.
I had a serene flight with a veteran over the Magaliesberg ridge and the dam from this airfield, with one or two stunts tossed in for excitement.
Hang-gliding involves flying using a triangle-shaped aluminium frame with a wing and no engine. Being suspended horizontally under the hang-glider with the wind rushing past your face induces a sense of space and speed.
Hang-gliding is the epitome of free flight, yet it has not taken off like most adventure sports, including paragliding.
South Africa currently has 42 hanggliding pilots and 637 paragliding pilots registered with the SA Hang Gliding and Paragliding Association.
This means tandem hang-gliding pilots are practically endangered but we found Mike “Spike” Coetzee at Aviators Paradise, where 17 of the 42 fly.
Mike has logged 1 663 solo flights of 981 hours and flown 398 tandems.
“I took up a man who was paralysed from his neck down and he loved it,” he said. “I flew with an 80-year-old woman who had this on her bucket list and a 70year-old couple who gave the flights as birthday presents to each other.”
Anyone can be a hang-gliding passenger: it requires zero effort or skill. You just hang there and do nothing but admire the view.
We arrived at Aviators Paradise airfield soon after sunrise, since early morning is the safest and calmest time to fly. Mike, 43, and his friend Neil Koopman, 38, had set up the hang-glider ready for my flight.
At this airfield, they use microlights to tow hang-gliders up, while other clubs launch from the mountain slopes.
“We have done more than 2 000 tows incident-free,” said Neil.
He helped to strap me into a suit and zipped up the legs before attaching my harness to the hang-glider and to Mike’s gear.
Mike said: “Flying tandem is like flying a bus. On your own, you just grab the bar with your fingertips and fly but tandem is hard work.”
As a passenger, you feel like you’re lying in a cocoon, which contrasts to paragliding, where you need your legs to run for takeoff and landing. If you go hang-gliding on your own, you do land on your feet, not wheels.
Mike got into his harness and the pair of pilots did safety checks. Then they attached the cable between the two aircraft and within minutes we were airborne.
Neil climbed up steadily with us in his wake and when we reached 2 500m (7 500 feet), he released the cable.
We floated along, close to the mountain ridge and could see the dam clearly, despite the hazy winter conditions.
The flight was smooth and peaceful until Mike asked if I’d like him to play around in the sky. I was happy for him to do gentle manoeuvres but didn’t want to feel air sick or scared.
Mike stalled the hang-glider, then pulled it up, creating a roller-coaster effect, then tipped the glider from side to side in “wingovers”. It was dramatic but I had no reason to feel alarmed.
When we had flown for about half an hour, he lined up the hang-glider to land and warned me that it comes in fast.
“In hang-gliding, you get only one chance to land (with no engine) and you need much more space than a paraglider,” Neil had told me.
I was surprised when we landed on an uphill grassy slope and not the runway, but this was intentionally done to slow the hang-glider down.
Gliding is a similar kind of flight except the pilots sit in an enclosed cockpit. Paragliding, which involves a collapsible wing, is not as fast, although it is equally exhilarating.
Mike and Neil both fly microlights and Neil has also done paragliding for 15 years. Hang-gliding requires more effort to set up and the craft is less mobile than a paraglider. He said: “Learning to hang-glide is harder and it is unforgiving of silly mistakes, like landing downwind. But we like it when conditions get rough, then it’s fun.
“Generally, hang-glider pilots can walk away [from crashes] with only broken arms or collarbones. You fall hard but the solid metal frame protects you.”
“Paragliding is by far easier and safer to learn but, when you push the envelope, it becomes more risky.
“You can go faster and further,” said Neil. “I like it for the places it takes you and the views.”
Mike said he enjoyed “the challenge and freedom”. His 16-year-old son Dayne now flies with him.
And the Aviators dog, Piper, just watches them all from his place in the sun.