Governador Valadares, 2006

A lot of firsts on this trip, and a complex mixture of experiences as well..

I had wanted to do a Jocky Sanderson organised trip for a while due to his reputation for being one of the best cross country instructors in the business. So it was with a great deal of excitment that I committed to the expensive airfare from Germany to Rio De Janeiro.

The trip itself was well priced for two weeks, although hotel wasn't included. With the airfare, hotel and guiding Valadares is always going to be an expensive destination. So with all this outlay, I was a bit dissapointed when Jocky himself wasn't able to be one of the group leaders. That said, the instructor team was fantastic, and the preparation the best of any guided trip I have been on, with colour images of everyones gliders, satillite pictures of the area with thermals marked, and top notch thermalling instruction for at least an hour every day before flying, detailed debriefs and weather analysis.

Getting to Valadares is an adventure in itself. I scored an upgrade to business class on the flight over, so arrived in Rio fresh and well rested. Spent the day wandering the famous Ipanema and Cocacabana beaches before joining our group at the airport. Then a long all night bus ride to arrive at GV at 5:30 am and crash in the hotel.

We were out flying that afternoon, after walking down through town to inspect the landing area by the river. Our transport to the Ibiturna launch was a rustic open-bed truck. Max speed 20mph. It made for tedius but scenic trips to launch. We got to know every curve of that road...



The flying itself was variable by GV standards at this time of year, but fantastic relative to most other places you travel to fly to. We didn't fly every day, and our expectations had been a bit unrealistically set by those we met in the first few days. Apparently in the whole month before our group arrived, hot dry conditions had created perfect 100km flight conditions day after day, with lift all over the valley.

After we arrived, rain and wind came and went, with a mixture of cruisy soft thermals to boat in, blown out afternoons, huge afternoon thunderstorms, pumping bullet thermals, and perfect cu days for some 40-60km XCs from those in our group. Only one of our three instructors even got the 100km flight that we had been told were being notched up daily just before we arrived...

It seemed that the weather just wouldn't make up its mind, leading to a bit of grizzling amoung the group and a sense that the perfect day was always going to be tomorrow...

My thermalling skills increased dramatically on this group, thanks to the different teaching styles of the three instructors. One logical, one intuitive, one silent and observant. I learnt from all of them, and spent hours thinking about thermalling, and attempting to practice.

My highlight was a 53km XC in near perfect conditions - my personal best. It was the first time I'd flown XC with a relatively low cloudbase, a highly experienced guide marking the thermals, and thermals being available every time we needed one. We got back to cloudbase again and again for three and a half hours. We only stopped due to rain further in the valley, turning back to fly and 7km down the valley with me landing in a village soccer field. A local kid lent me his bike to ride back to the bus stop, and kids surrounded me for the 2km back to the main road and bus stop. I bought them a 2 litre coke as a thank you. I've never seen that much coke dissapear so fast. A marvellous experience of Brazil!

Bouyed on by this success, I flew more aggressively the next days, but the weather didn't play ball. A focus on low saves and a sense of hungrily wanting more spread through our group. The paragliders getting the taste and needing their fix....

In hindsight, these factors were all part of the accident that brought my trip to an end two days before the official end of the trio. I was flying well, having tremendous fun flying fast and actively with a group of Brazilian locals, and passing the 25km mark when the clouds closed in and the lift shut down. Frustrated after dropping from cloudbase to just 100m above the rolling hilltops in constant 2m/s sink, I saw another pilot climb out from a thermal triggered by a rock outcrop on the next spur about 300 meters distance.

In GV, low saves from below hilltop height are commonplace, and often not that difficult to achieve. But I underestimated the distance to the outcrop. Arriving at outcrop below ridge level with a tailwind and strong sink, I had less than ten seconds decision time to commit to a landing spot in a small valley with trees, horses, fences, swamp and a farmhouse. Everything happened way too fast. I clipped a tree, steered away from an old horse and a barbed wire fence, and did a side-wind, side-hill landing in strong sink into long grass without even time for a decent flare. Unfortunately, the long grass hid hard-baked clay with deep cow hoof prints. I tripped and rolled, smashing my wrist into the dirt.

There was no pain. But as I tugged my glove off, I knew my trip was at its end. The weird Z in my wrist confirmed that. So there I was, 5 km from the road, 33 celcius degree Brazillian heat, with a badly smashed wrist. Not good. Then it started to hurt...

I painfully gathered up my gear, trudged to the local farm where a local farmer was washing his car in the heat. I spoke no Porteguese, but they helped wordlessly. They packed my gear and drove me to the bus stop on the main road. Words cannot express how much gratitude I felt towards these simple, open and friendly people.

The rest of the trip was a blur. I do remember very attractive Brazillian nurses at the local hospital, the concern of our instructors, the relief from fellow pilots that it wasn't more serious. The local ER doctor happened to be a hand surgeon, and his prognosis through the broken english of an impromtu translator, was blunt. 'You must have operation. Here in Brazil, I don't think such good idea. Go home, do operation very soon. Much better to do this in Germany. Now I must fix dislocation. I give you injection first'. Yes, thank god. I couldn't bear to look as he wrenched the dislocated and broken wrist into rough alignment before plastering it over.

Now, travelling on an overnight, public bus for 12 hours, hanging at an airport for another twelve hours, then 8hrs flying, 4 hrs more airport, 2 more hours flying, 2 hr train ride...all with your wrist in a sling, lugging 30kg of paragliding and baggage and doped up with 800mg moltrin every 4hrs.. that was the perhaps the biggest adventure of the whole trip.

Three days later a professor in hand surgery at a Dusseldorf University Hospital put some elegant Swiss titanium in my wrist. I made a full recovery with 95% of movement range and strength back in my wrist, which is exceptional for an break that bad.

Sometimes, learning to paraglide is tough and dangerous. The lessons of this trip were varied and deep. Please don't try and repeat all of them...