Because I'm constantly trying to create new things and push things forward, mainly in the ground handling area now, and of course in the test flight area as well, there are also very, very extreme situations there. So if you were to ask me now, how would you describe yourself? I would describe myself as an extreme paragliding athlete.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with... Mike Küng. And Lucian Haas on the mic. Mike
Küng is one of the most dazzling figures in the paragliding scene. For three decades, he has constantly caused a stir with unusual flight maneuvers and sometimes downright death-defying paraglider stunts. Not only are his ground handling and agro skills legendary, he jumped from a balloon at an altitude of over 10 kilometers. He was the first and so far only person to cross the English Channel by paraglider. He flew to Salt Lake City from the Europabrücke near Innsbruck and even performed a head-first indoor dive. He ran out of the rafters of the former Cargolifter hall with a glider. All of this and more earned him an almost trademark suffix to his name: Mad. So, Mad Mike Küng. A designation that is both a knighthood and a way of setting himself apart.
Because what Mike can do and constantly demonstrates is not of the aviation world for most average pilots. Mike also enjoys cultivating this image. Last year, he published a biography called Legacy. In it, he describes himself as one of the most extreme paragliding professionals in the world. What he understands by that, how he became who he is today, and how he has shaped the paragliding world with his actions—Mike Küng tells all about that in this episode of Podz-Glidz. This includes topics such as physical and psychological training, flying without fear, his experiences as a test pilot, the constant search for recognition, and his plans for the future.
By the way, the podcast Podz-Glidz and my blog LOOGLIGHTS are professionally produced offerings, completely without any annoying ads or a paywall for funding. If you happen to like what I offer here for that very reason, then I'd appreciate a small token of appreciation. As a supporter, you can choose your financial contribution completely freely. For those who are undecided, I recommend a non-binding guideline of one euro per podcast episode and two euros per reading month on LOOGLIGHTS. Payments are very easy via PayPal or Google Play. Or bank transfer is also possible. You can find the relevant details on the LOOGLIGHTS website, specifically on the Support page.
Mike, what defines an extreme sports athlete in your view?
Well, that's a definition that everyone has to find for themselves, or that the audience has to find for themselves. Extreme is certainly something you could say that maybe no one has ever tried before. It's what appears in the eye of the beholder, of course. That means something that is extreme for someone doesn't necessarily have to be extreme for someone else. Still, I would say that if you dare to do something new or do something with a high risk factor and do it often, I think you can be considered an extreme athlete. Do you see yourself as an extreme athlete? Yes, absolutely. No question, because with the paraglider, I've constantly tried to push boundaries that don't even exist.
And to forge new paths. And of course, aviation in general—whether it's air sports or extreme climbing or whatever, mountain sports—will always be described as extreme because the risk, despite all the good planning and preparation, will always remain relatively high.
When you look back at your aviation career, what's the most extreme thing you've done so far?
You can't really say because there are so many things. Because certain things that seemed extremely risky went off relatively well because they were incredibly well prepared and incredibly well planned, and then the residual risk was simply minimized to the extreme. So, things often became truly dangerous when you did something quickly just once and thought, "Yeah, let's just get this done fast." That's when it shifted more towards the risky side. So things I planned well were mostly within the limits. Although, of course, when I jump over the glider in a Cargolift hall during a rollover at only 94 meters, that's always risky. There's always a residual risk there.
But if I were to say what was the riskiest and most dangerous, I couldn't tell you exactly, because there were several moments where things got really close.
In your book Legacy, you also describe the story of your altitude record, where you ascended over 10,000 meters in a balloon and then jumped. You yourself refer to it as harakiri. Is that perhaps the most extreme thing, from that perspective?
Yes, besides mountaineering. I was in the Himalayas too, and I had emergency situations there because of the weather. But regarding this altitude record, we were definitely doing Harakiri, because the equipment—the whole altitude record event is a battle of materials. And at that point, it doesn't matter how much money you can invest in such a story. That means if I had a spacesuit, pressure breathing, and was equipped accordingly, a story like that would be significantly less risky than how we carried it out. I mean, we did have pressure breathing, but no spacesuit. And at a certain altitude, it just gets extremely cold and extremely dangerous because our bodies aren't made for it.
Were you aware that you were putting yourself in this kind of danger when you climbed up, or did you go into it almost a bit naively?
No, I was aware that it would get dangerous. Still, you could say it was a bit naive, because I even did 8,000 meters without oxygen. I did that in several stages. I even did the jump from 8,000 meters without oxygen, and we tried it at 9,000. And then we said, if that's so easy, let's just go for 12,000 meters. And 12,000 meters was just really naive. That's what we realized. Because at 10,000 meters, it got really tight for the whole team. And I'm very glad I got out of that so well. It's an incredible strain on the body.
And it was also just naive, because people simply thought you could keep pushing the limits without expecting any major problems.
Your biggest media success, where the media reported on your actions the most, was actually something else. Where you simply crossed the English Channel by flying. That's 36 kilometers you have to glide over the water. From that perspective, it actually wasn't the most extreme event. Was it still something special for you?
Definitely something special. You don't always have to call the most extreme events the best events. It's not always about saying, "I survived that." It's simply about realizing stories and plans that you have. Thoughts, ideas. Wishes. That you make them happen. And the extreme thing about the English Channel crossing certainly wasn't flying 36 kilometers straight. The extreme thing about it was the organization. The financing. And of course, also overcoming that natural barrier with the paraglider. It was a few years ago, after all. And at that time, paragliders didn't perform as well as they do today. I think that nowadays it would be relatively easy to do if you have optimal conditions.
The extreme thing about the event was, of course, also the financial risk. Sponsors help you, naturally. But in our field, it's just the way it is that you have to be happy if you get any support at all. And that means the rest of the money you need for such events... just the media story alone already costs 10,000, 15,000 euros to ensure it gets distributed accordingly. The risk is very high because you just put in so much of your own private money. And the story itself just worked out so well, when I say I experienced what I wanted to experience. That image I had in my head came to life. And with all these stories I also included in the book, those were exactly the images that came to life from the dreams I had before.
In your book, you also write that, especially from a financial perspective, you basically paid out of your own pocket for all these projects, meaning you had to chip in private money. Why can't something like this be set up so that you can actually make good money from it?
There are very, very few sponsors who really put massive amounts of money into extreme sports. Red Bull is one of the few companies you could say actually put real money into it. Adidas and Superfund supported me massively. But you also have to consider that this is a project like crossing the English Channel, with all the permits, three helicopters, and, and, and the whole team. Everything that goes into it, you're out 80,000 to 100,000 euros right away. And it's not to be expected that a sponsor will cover that sum. That means if you realize stories like I did, you just have to be really lucky to break even. But it's much more likely that if all the people don't help out on a volunteer basis, you'll end up paying out of pocket.
Let's jump back a good bit in your story. I'm interested in how you even became what you eventually became as Matt Maiküng. How did it all start? How did you actually get into paragliding?
I originally came from mountain sports, but not in an extreme way. I mean, I was an enthusiastic alpinist and climber. Especially skiing, ski touring, and certain things in the mountain sports field always fascinated me. And my father had a shop, a sports shop. And he then came across this in the 80s and said, "Ah, now there's something completely new and cool, you can jump down from the mountain with some kind of paraglider." And he sold these devices in his sports shop for a while, for two or three years. They were, of course, one-to-one with stones. But we tried them anyway, jumping up and down hills. And that was actually the entry point into the whole thing.
And that fascinated me so much that I said, I'll stick with this for a bit. I was also able to connect it a bit with mountain sports. But very, very quickly it also got a bit boring for me because the performance of these devices was just so poor. And then the opportunity came up to get into it professionally. That really appealed to me. And of course, the rapid development of paragliders. It's always become more interesting what's possible with a paraglider. That was basically the entry point. And I committed to that one hundred percent. And anyone who knows me knows that I can't really do anything normal. And I basically got into it so excessively that it very quickly crystallized into what it still is for me today.
Just my passion. At first
you were basically still in mountain sports. How did you go from Michel to Mad Mike?
I think it's because of this extreme approach I have with everything—I always do things to the extreme. When I do them, I don't do them half-heartedly, but really go all in. And I was actually in the lucky position of having some sporting success in that field relatively quickly. I became the Austrian national champion around '89, '90. And then I got to know André Bucher and Markus Grünthammer, who were doing Edel Paragliders in Innsbruck back then. And I begged and pleaded with them for so long that they eventually gave me a job. At first, it was in the warehouse, checking out the demos and stuff like that.
And yeah, that was the starting point. And at some point, I just took things so extremely in the eyes of different people that they eventually started calling me Mad Mike.
That also had a lot to do with the training you did back then. And you built up an insane amount of stuff, including ground handling and other things, all your techniques and such. There's an enormous amount of ambition behind that, you have to have that. Where does that come from for you?
You could certainly dig deep into the psychology of it now. But I've always been fascinated by pushing something to the limit or beyond it. I was also really lucky with André Bucher, who really took thermals under the wing. And he also taught me this ground handling technique, which I still use in a modified form. Of course, also other aviation things, like top landings or other extreme things in extreme form. So deep stall landings and things like that, really extreme stuff. Subsequently, of course, there was also Walter Holzmüller and Tony Bender. I've actually always dealt with very good pilots. And I was always able to reorient myself and continue my training.
And I just kept getting more and more excessive. I mean, 1,000 to 1,200 flights a year was normal. And just extremely frequent, hour-long ground handling sessions. That was definitely a bit excessive in a certain way. But if you add up all the flights I do today and the ground handling, it doesn't come out to much less. So it's just that I still love it extremely much. And that's probably why I can still set some new benchmarks in that area when it comes to new things. Right now, of course, especially with ground handling. There are still several things that can be reinvented and mastered.
Maybe we'll get into more detail later about where you can still develop your ground handling. Let's go back to ambition. Is that something where, in terms of your motivation, you want to satisfy yourself and prove something to yourself? Or are there also things where you say, no, I'd also like to prove something to other people?
Well, I always like to use the expression "recognition junkie." We all are, or many of us are. It certainly has something to do with it. But I'm really the type who says I want to see what's possible with my piece of equipment. What is all possible? And I'm surprised by what is possible. You see it again and again, how paragliding has evolved in these few years, actually few decades. Ambition is somehow the wrong word for me. Sure, you're ambitious and also hungry for recognition in a certain way, of course. That was certainly a major driving force in the past. But now I do things much more simply out of self-interest.
Because I have that. Because I'm fascinated by what's possible with the paraglider. And of course, you don't really have to prove yourself anymore. As a young athlete, you naturally want to achieve fame and glory alongside the sporting successes, trophies, and prize money. No question. And that was a very, very strong driving force for me.
Well, you're a flyer through and through. You do agro, you do ground handling. You've also done cross-country flying. You've even participated in the X-Alps and so on. But your biography -Legacy begins with the words, I was never a flyer. What is a flyer to you?
Well, I've dreamed of this fascination with flying since I was a kid. But I see a "flyer" as someone who has a basic fascination with flying. Like airplanes, helicopters, hot air balloons, kiting, something like that. Someone who is extremely interested in the element in general. And I didn't really have that. Still don't. I mean, I was a skydiver at one point. And at some point, I got bored of that too. Because it's only really fascinating for me when something is progressing. If I had wanted to become a better skydiver, I would have had to do massively more jumps. Exactly the same as with paragliding. Do much, much more, extreme training to get better.
And I didn't do that. That didn't fascinate me at all. But in the end, with paragliding, this fascination remained. And it continues to develop. And it stays. It's like a way of life and an incredible basic fascination. And of course, it's also a sense of purpose and a way of life. I think that's exactly why I stuck with this sport. If
But if you don't call yourself a "flyer," what would you call yourself? An action type? Or is there a term you would use for yourself instead?
The word extreme sport is just really overused. Generally, the word extreme. But it describes it relatively well, because what you do at times is simply extreme. Especially in the eyes of others. Personally, I would call myself an extreme paraglider. Because I'm constantly trying to create new things. And to push things forward. Mainly now in the ground handling area. And of course also in the test flight area. There are very, very many extreme situations there as well. If you ask me now, how do you describe yourself, I would describe myself as a paragliding extreme sports athlete.
You just mentioned testing. You've been a test pilot for many, many years for various manufacturers. But you were also a test pilot for the DHV for ten years. And in principle, you really helped shape the certification of paragliders for a whole decade. Was that, perhaps also in terms of the overall impact on the paragliding scene, your happiest time?
No, I wasn't just with the German Hang Gliding Association for ten years. I was also with the Academy ERPR for ten years. And I did the same job there, certification. So, I've actually been doing certifications, paraglider certifications, for 20 years. And this area has been very, very important and very, very interesting to me. So I would also very, very like to return to this field. To have people say, certification test pilot. That would be a very, very interesting vision for the future for me as an alternative. I slipped into that because I simply aligned very well with the German Hang Gliding Association regarding my philosophy. Back then, the German Hang Gliding Seal of Quality, the DHV Seal of Quality, was the toughest or almost the only seal of quality that had rank and name worldwide.
And I was simply the "ultra-spinner" in the aerobatics and extreme flight sectors. And of course, the DHV liked the fact that they were taking on one of the toughest paraglider test pilots, more or less. And I was able to test them really excessively, test them hard. And that suited me very well. I'd describe it as how they test the safety class nowadays—really a bit over the limit. And that was, of course, very, very interesting for me and I really enjoyed it very much. And it was certainly one of my most important pillars.
Back then, testing wasn't quite as tightly squeezed into norms as it is today with the EN standard, where a lot of very precise instructions are given on what to do with collapses and so on. Back then, it was also said that, well, this DHV seal of quality still had a lot to do with experiential knowledge and such, which the test pilot would then factor in as well. And in that form, you were also very influential. And some also say that back then, if the thermals didn't work out, then such a glider just wouldn't pass. For whatever reason. So you also had to make a glider somehow appeal to Mike. Was that a role you enjoyed, actually, having a certain amount of power with it?
Looking back, I don't think it was right how things were. But it's just like you said. I obviously had a certain amount of power. It meant that if I believed the glider wasn't right, it was practically a no. And then the manufacturer more or less had no chance of going big with it. Thank goodness that power is gone now. Because it's not fair. I never treated a manufacturer or a glider wrongly in any way. But of course, I had very, very extreme views. And that's what worked out very well for the DHV back then. A European Norm, where you follow specific guidelines on how to test, under what conditions to test, and, and, and—it makes an incredible amount of sense.
So I also did that with the EAPR,
...quality seal. And I think that's perfectly fine. You really need precise guidelines to test a device fairly. Anything else is basically a matter of some arbitrariness. Still, I believe that this system made sense back then. Because back then, people looked more at performance than at safety. And aircraft simply hit the market that were really dangerous, just plain dangerous. And the fact that the DHV was there as an authority, I think that's very, very good. I wouldn't claim right now that it always went down completely fairly. But ultimately, I always did my best and tried to be as fair as possible. And of course, as tough as possible. Still, I naturally welcome the current state of the European Norm as extremely helpful. ENL - DF - quality seal makes absolute sense.
And I also believe that it is being tested very fairly.
Back to the time with DHV. Back then, you were basically the test pilot for them and were an incredibly good person. From the outside, it also looked like an incredibly successful collaboration. Why did it actually fall apart back then? Well, that brings us back to this...
Back to that time with the DHV. Back then, you were basically the test pilot for them and were an incredibly good person. From the outside, it also looked like an incredibly successful collaboration. Why did it actually fall apart back then? Well, that brings us back to this... Extreme sports in and the crazy Kueng, if I may put it that way. I still have a certain diva-like quality. And a certain extreme need for rights and a sense of honor, and certain things that maybe one should clearly separate from the job, fundamentally. But I found it hard to separate this "Mad-My-Kueng" from the DHV test pilot. I always thought that it was one person and that they belonged together. So, I could separate those two things much better nowadays.
Or I'm much better at separating these two things now. One is the extreme sports athlete and the other is the worker who just does his job. Even so, the two things still bleed into each other. With the DHV, it was just that I was always there at the peak of my acro and extreme sports career. And I always expected the DHV to acknowledge that. But the DHV basically did the opposite. They tried to ban acro, or prevent it, or at least regulate it. I mean, it's nonsense—how can you regulate acro? It's completely impossible. And with these extreme sports, I was often told, "We can't stand behind that." But behind the worker Maiküng, they do stand behind that. That fits and it's good.
Everything really fit together well. But the extreme athlete part just wasn't entirely welcome at times. And I saw that as increasingly problematic. And at some point, it escalated. Especially after I set the height record and did the Ärmelkanal, I expected more from the DHV in terms of recognition on their part. And that didn't happen. And it annoyed and bothered me so much back then that I eventually ended this collaboration after ten years. Especially because I struggled with this political structure, with the boards. It wasn't that easy with the managing director at the time either. And I believe that these are different times now, that things would go down quite differently now.
But back then, that was really a problem for me.
That means you basically wanted to be loved for everything you stood for. And you were only loved for about half of it, more or less.
Yes, loved. I mean, you get paid for a job. You don't need to be loved for that. That's not necessary. Still, I mean, they held an annual general meeting. There was the Hintertupfinger paraglider championship. People were honored there. And at some point, I was even uninvited from all those events. And I was never honored by the THV or recognized. And of course, that hurts your soul a bit when your own employer doesn't reward, respect, or recognize what you do. And I'm sure I did an extreme amount of publicity for the Deutschen Engelgelder Verband with my actions.
You've received a lot of recognition for your testing work. What does being a test pilot actually give you? Is it a particular thrill for you as well?
Well, yeah. Especially back in the day, that was the case. Because nowadays, when you're testing high-performance gear, it's still a thrill just like before. Or new gear, like the Single-Scan stuff now. Although, you should actually see that as almost harder than the current acro-flying. I mean, acro-flying, sure, when I'm tackling a new figure, that's also an extreme thrill.
And it took me a year and a half until I finally learned that Infinity back then. But when testing, it's just that I deliberately put the glider into a certain kind of trouble and then do nothing. With acro-flying, I intervene. That means I'm constantly trying to control the device. But when testing, it's just that I deliberately put the glider into trouble and then I watch. And the art of it is knowing when I have to intervene. Like, when am I being endangered? When is it dangerous for me? And then I have to intervene. But basically, the glider has to solve the problem itself. And you have to give the glider time to solve the problem. And that's often a big thrill. So nowadays, with a device with a maximum speed of over 60 km/h, if you test it at the upper limit—meaning you go full throttle and tip it to the side and do 70%, do 75%—then things just get intense.
That's still a huge thrill. Whether the thrill is pleasant? I doubt it. Especially when it's a piece of equipment you don't know at all, that's something you should approach very carefully. And I only know a handful, really only a handful, of truly great test pilots who test mercilessly.
Do you ever get scared when you're testing or during your other projects, the ones you're doing or have done? God
in the sky. Well, as soon as I'm afraid, I have to stop. You have to earn that much self-confidence through as much training as possible and hard training. If you start to doubt and feel afraid that you can master it, that you have it under control, then you have to change jobs immediately. I don't mean for this to sound arrogant, but it's simply important that you train so intensively here that you really feel like you can master it. That's why I always did 30, 40, 50 jumps a year with the paraglider, so that I felt like I could also do extremely low jumps because I believed I had it under control. And that worked quite well too.
So, confidence through competence—meaning self-confidence. And there's no room for fear in that.
Being warned, your gut feeling saying, "this could get heated," that is extremely important because, above all, you have to have respect for it; that's part of it, so that you're one hundred percent present in the moment.
Are there days where you at least say, "Today my gut feeling is really telling me I'd better just skip it, because I might end up in situations I can't handle anymore, even though I normally can, theoretically or from practice?"
No, I don't say that. There are certainly days when you're naturally better than on others. I notice that more in the sports side of things, like when I go on a long tour—a ski tour or a long climbing route or something else where I'm out on the trail for a relatively long time—where you're sometimes better and sometimes worse. With flying, it's more like you notice, okay, you're better sometimes. But I often get into this flow, I start, and it just goes. And when the conditions are right, I don't feel any big differences between days. In any case, I never have days where I say, I'd rather leave it, because I just don't feel comfortable. For me, that doesn't really exist at all.
Did you ever get seriously injured at some point during your career? Did you ever have a serious crash?
I'd say there have certainly been some learning experiences, especially at the beginning. Especially when we started with acrobatics, it was just insane. We were doing things where nobody knew how it was supposed to work. Does it even work? Is it even doable? Some of the equipment simply wasn't suited for it at all. I've had a few pieces of rescue gear deploy, which thankfully ended well. Fortunately, I've never been seriously injured, and I've always felt those lessons were educational. When things got close and I realized, "Okay, I really got lucky there," or "Thank God that turned out well," you have to say, there were definitely some experiences there.
Especially with the keyword luck.
Sometimes you just need that to survive situations. How often do you think you've actually survived things just by luck?
Yeah, those aren't that many. Those aren't that many. To be completely honest, the really extreme things described in the book were super well-planned. And of course, they were risky. But relying on the luck factor is extremely dangerous. That means, as far as I can avoid it, this factor of luck and chance should be as low as possible, as small as possible. And it actually never got really close. It's more like it got really close once, for example, with the acrobatics book I did with Gudrun and Nesla Michi, where I said, "Oh, we're still missing two or three photos of a pose, let's just do that real quick." When we did something like that, I was already getting nervous because they just said, "Okay, great, with the glider it's easy to do quickly, just quickly pull off this pose for a few photos without any planning."
That's where it gets dangerous. You could see it with the basejumper, Ueli, at the Gegenschatz. He also did something quickly for the media, jumped off the roof edge, and it went wrong there too. That doesn't mean it has to happen that way, but it's just the fact that if you do something a bit half-heartedly or just quickly on the side, it becomes really dangerous. The things I planned well, luck was part of that too, no question. So with the altitude record, there was a lot of luck involved that it didn't result in any damage. And other actions were also extremely close. Jumping off the Europabrücke was also very risky. Luck is part of it, no question, but the smaller that factor is, the better.
In your book, you also describe a great story in connection with luck, where you had a carabiner break at the Ueli Denis launch site. You had flown with the same carabiner before and did some really extreme acrobatics. However, it didn't break in the air, but actually right when you were about to set up for the new flight, as far as I've read and understood it correctly. What were you thinking in that moment?
Stunned. It's really interesting that you bring up this example, because I would still consider this story completely incomprehensible as a first-time occurrence. I was really lucky there. So, I was doing a show flight at the Airgames in Ueli Denis with the wildest stuff—back then, full throttle with the Infinity and real full-on action—and I had an aluminum carabiner on it. The latest design, so everything was actually perfect; there was never any thought of any material failures. And I land the glider as usual, and with the truck, we drive up another mountain, and at the top, there's a great wind for the ground handle. I clip in and pull the glider up and bling, something is lying on the ground. And I think—I can still remember that sound very well today—a metallic, bright clinking, and I look at the ground and half of the carabiner is lying there.
I'm thinking, what is that? How can that happen? And a truck just flew off in a strong wind. And I'm thinking, what just happened? Did I not close the carabiner properly? Or what happened there? And then it actually turned out to be a dynamic load failure of that aluminum carabiner. I still can't wrap my head around that bit of luck. And I'm very, very grateful that nothing happened in the air. Because the carabiner survived that extreme high-speed flying. And then, just pulling it a bit on the ground, that was enough for it to break. You really have to say, there was a lot of luck involved there.
What kind of carabiners do you fly with today? So, did that somehow influence your choice of materials? Since then, only...
Steel. There's no more aluminum for me. Back then, it was like how these were anodized, these carabiners. That was a problem.
On the topic of luck, but in a different sense, you also write in your book that one of the greatest strokes of luck in the sport would be the fact that I was allowed to help shape it. Where do you think you've had the most influence, basically?
Yes, that's actually an important sentence for me and extremely important. That's also what's fascinating about this sport. If you get into the sport now, what do you want to do differently? Acro flying is extremely well-developed.
Cross-country flying, anyway. In my opinion, competition is just a side effect, a marginal thing in the sport by now. Sure, you can pursue your passion, your fascination, but if you say you want to shape things, to reshape them, then you really just have to have ideas.
Back then, it was simply relatively easy to reshape things. Ground handling in the form it's practiced today didn't even exist. At some point, we were even called "ground jumpers." Acro flying was even called a real stunt, a show-off move. The Hörnerkanal—anyone can fly over that. Flying straight ahead, what's the point? But flying down certain high mountains, whatever. All those things just weren't there back then. No one had done them yet. For example, no one has repeated flying over the Hörnerkanal to this day. And certain things just weren't done at all back then. Regardless of whether it's the development, the extreme sports side, or the ideas. Ground handling, acro, all these things were only just being created back then. And I was really lucky to be able to get involved in all of those areas.
And to be able to help shape it. I've certainly moved things forward in the acro scene and made it a bit more popular in our region. And we're still trying to really push ground handling. Also the testing, so that people actually know what's being done there. Testing is also very important. I was allowed to help shape and co-create all these things, and I'm really proud of that.
Where do you see the biggest opportunities today, basically, to still create something new with the paraglider? Is it ground handling, where you say there might still be the greatest potential for development?
Yes, at least once, you can do an incredible amount. I'm surprised every year that there's still an increase possible. I also tried to bring it into the realm of bouldering or extreme climbing, where you use difficulty grades. But that hasn't really developed further. Nevertheless, I simply tried to overcome obstacles with the paraglider in a cold-weather setting. And Denmark is, of course, optimal with those large bunkers. You just need a bit of wind and you can already do something with the paraglider.
Extreme areas of the world. There are so many possibilities all over the world where you can somehow realize or do new things. The really big new ideas, challenges, aren't really visible at the moment. I just broke the headover or rollover record to 7,100 meters. Things like that fascinate me very, very much. There are so many ideas that could be done. Unfortunately, I have to be completely honest, it's also always a bit about the money. And right now, the flying human or the human jumping down from somewhere isn't the big fascination for the general public anymore. That, in turn, means less TV time. That, in turn, means fewer sponsors.
Because it always goes hand in hand. That means if I want to create something big and new, I simply need money. And that's only possible with strong sponsors. And right now, that's certainly difficult. Let's switch
Let's go back to that topic for a bit. At another point in your book, you write that training the psyche is much more important than the physical in our sport. Why? And the second part of the question would be, how do you train your psyche? I...
Did I write it exactly like that? Yes. Okay, I wouldn't call it that clear-cut or harsh anymore. I think it is very much the case in extreme sports that you simply have to train the mind and the psyche. In the sense that you simply perceive the fears that arise—meaning, you practically take the warning to heart and under no circumstances ignore it, but you don't just push it aside as something that hinders you. That means I have to train that. In a certain way, how do I deal with my fears, of course? How do I keep them under control? How can I plan so well that I simply minimize my residual risk? And of course, how can I train my psyche so well that I can take that step?
So I love that expression from the movie Matrix. It's not enough to just know the door. You also have to walk through it. Or you don't just have to know the way, you have to walk it. I think that expression is very good. It means I need a certain amount of courage and self-confidence to actually walk those paths. But that's not just true in extreme sports; it's basically like that with other things too. That means I can train for that as well. And in my case, I train for it by doing so much practical training that I'm simply convinced I can do it. And this self-confidence then allows me to do extraordinary things and to deal with my fears or concerns.
I wouldn't call it quite as extreme as I might have done it back then. I find physical training extremely important. I practically practice a cult of the body. Especially right now over the winter, I've lost quite a bit of weight again because I need it as a test pilot. A low body weight. It was different back when I did aerobatics. You couldn't be heavy enough. Back then I was between 80 and 90 kilos. And right now I'm around 62 kilos. So I'm being excessive there too. Physical training is extremely important to me. Of course, physical fitness as well, to be able to handle the body optimally. And I'm over 50 now, so that's naturally a bit harder than at 30.
To get down to 62, you probably have to really pull yourself together and basically starve yourself. Is that also your idea of professionalism, saying, "Hey, we need these light test pilots"? I can get to the point of being such a light test pilot. So I'm pushing myself now, or I'm really pushing my body into this extreme.
Yeah, it just fits really well for me. I love sports. I'm an excessive athlete. So, especially in the winter, I'm doing five, six, seven-hour tours. Actually, it's pretty normal for you to be out there on the way. Even now in the summer with hike and fly—especially at this time of year, I do hike and fly very excessively. It's naturally very convenient for me because I enjoy doing it so much. And it's just... it's professional, if you ask what's in highest demand? It's light test pilots, because those 80-kilo guys, there are as many of them as sand by the sea. And since there are already so few really very good test pilots, in my opinion, there are even fewer truly light, very good test pilots. And of course, that's also an incredible motivation for me.
And I have to be completely honest, it's not really hard for me. I love asceticism; I really enjoy that ascetic lifestyle. But I'm also absolutely a person of pleasure. I mean, I like to eat and I like to have a drink sometimes. But my basic way of life is more geared towards asceticism. And that combination suits me very well and I like it. And yes, I think as a light test pilot, you're also in high demand.
You just said there are very, very few truly good test pilots in the world. What makes a truly good test pilot?
Yes, exactly what I basically described a bit earlier. I have to know exactly how it's being tested. That means I also believe that most test pilots who test over land—not over water, but over land—only test half-heartedly. That means if I have a glider that I need to test, I have to mark it so that I really know, okay, I didn't just do a 60% flap, but I actually did a 70% flap or larger. Then I just have to make sure that I'm really at the upper limit, not somewhere in between. I have to really go full throttle there. That means full throttle, roll to roll or roll over roll, and not, let's say, three-quarters throttle.
I think it's relatively easy to, how should I put it, fool yourself there. And this ruthless testing, combined of course with not intervening with the glider and only intervening once I as a pilot am being promoted. And of course, subsequently, what's even more important, being able to convey that to the designer or clearly explain to the testing institute what the result of the glider is. That's perhaps what ultimately makes a good test pilot. So in the context of a manufacturer, the combination of test pilot and designer—that the two can work together—is extremely important and very, very good. And everyone has to be able to rely on the other. And in the context of quality seal and test pilot, it simply has to be done very, very correctly.
That's absolutely correct, so that the ENL test seal is confirmed. And the more precisely you do it, the better you can do it, and the longer you do it, the better a test pilot you become, based on experience. So I think you have to learn that just like any other job.
Over the last few years, you've worked as a test pilot alongside Hannes Papisch and actually built up the new FEE brand very successfully with him. Now we're hearing that you're parting ways with FEE. Why is that, and where are you headed next?
Yeah, it's definitely true that I'm obviously not really a team player. Well, that's been established now. I've already had several paraglider companies behind me. And I actually always act as if it were mine. And in the case of FEE, it was also mine. I mean, I owned some shares there. Still, I just find it difficult when other influences come along, like now with FEE, where people just join the company who disrupt that relationship between designer and test pilot. I keep saying, that might sound a bit mean now, like a dog picking up a few ticks that then burrow into the fur.
And it's almost inevitable that this happens, that certain outside influences and inputs come in. And it just bothers me when the relationship between designer and test pilot is disrupted. And yeah, onto new shores. I don't have a problem with that. On the contrary, it's more like saying, okay, now I can focus on the core again. Those are the ground handling courses and just working as a freelance test pilot. It's
Is that maybe an inner drive of yours, to always be looking for a new challenge again?
Yes, it was extremely fascinating to build a company or set up a rental business over these last three years. It fit very well. It was a great time. But yeah, I can already notice that I get a bit impatient at some point, especially when it enters a certain phase. Like when it somehow becomes routine. Next project, next project, next project. And so, yeah, okay. One seal of approval, next seal of approval, next seal of approval. That's how things go, but yeah, it's really time for something new again. What also fascinates me is simply these different possibilities. I'm already incredibly looking forward to the ground handling courses in Denmark. I'm totally starved for that direction again because I really love teaching as well. And of course, the current situation has prevented that a bit, because we would have already had several ground handling courses.
It's often about variety, and of course, that's what I'm missing at the moment. I
I read on Facebook that you said you finally want to get your flight instructor license too. What do you need it for? Do you want to set up a flight school?
Yeah, exactly. No, nothing is out of reach for me. I just have some outdated views. I simply think that a teacher, regardless of the field, should somehow be a master. I did a flight instructor assistant course a few years ago. And yeah, we don't really talk about the practical side. But in terms of theory, I was still a bit far from being a master. Now I'm learning, practicing, and continuing my education so that I can cover the entire field. That is to say, just because I've been a test pilot for almost 30 years doesn't mean I really know my way around aerodynamics or the legal situation or anything else. On the contrary, I can fly well. But there's so much more to it to be a flight instructor or a master. And that's exactly what I want to acquire now.
And of course, subsequently, offering the trips as a flight instructor. Naturally, also offering the ground handling courses as an instructor. I like that idea better. I mean, it doesn't have to be. But still, I'd really like to finally get that finished. What speaks against it is my tendency to find it a bit difficult to acquire things when it comes to learning. That is to say, hitting the books was never really my thing.
If you're acting as an instructor now for ground handling, well, you're using the techniques you've been using for 40 years now. The ones you've mastered over many years and have been constantly perfecting. You're playing in a completely different league than someone who goes to Denmark and says, I want to learn the simplest things about ground handling. Do you actually enjoy doing something like that, conveying this basic knowledge?
Yes, I enjoy it very much because I show people what I do myself. It's clear that I do ground handling extremely for my own private use. Really extremely. But the technique is the same. The foundation is the same. So, basic and expert courses are based on this basic technique that I use myself as well. That means I'm actually showing people something that I stand behind 100%. And I also simply know what kind of success you can achieve with it. You see that again and again, especially in Denmark. Also in other areas where there's a lot of wind or strong thermals. That people still find it a bit difficult to take off and handle the glider on the ground. And that's exactly what I offer people: learning how to master the glider on the ground even in stronger or more extreme wind.
And the learning progress, especially in the basic courses, is so significant that it gives me an incredible amount of joy. When I see people who at the beginning can't even manage to lay out the glider correctly, let alone hold it over their heads. And then after a week, they can do it. That makes me very happy and I'm also proud of them.
Since you've been doing ground handling for so long now and have tried out all sorts of different gliders, has the fact that glider constructions have changed—in the sense that nowadays you mostly only have three levels at the bottom, so A, B, and C instead of A, B, C, and D, and that there are rods at the top so the canopies open better—actually improved or rather worsened the possibilities for ground handling?
Neither. I mean, we used to have problems with these four risers. We'd pull the C and D risers at the same time. And people often had trouble catching them. Nowadays, as you say, modern gliders have either two or three risers. Because of that, it's actually become easier because it's simply clearer and you can get to the C riser more easily. The rods have no influence. Gliders generally launch much, much better than before. That used to be a bit of a drama at times. But now, in terms of development, it's actually become easier. What has become more difficult? That's of course the fact that the gliders are more stretched and the wingtips tend to tilt and accelerate. And that often means the gliders are a bit harder to control on the ground again.
But that mostly concerns these high-performance gliders. The gliders we use are actually often A-gliders or B-gliders. Of course, very, very small. The gliders are super simple to handle and you can really do great things with them. Even a specialization like in acro flying. With today's acro gliders, infinity flying isn't exactly a great art because it happens almost by itself due to the way the glider is built. But back then, flying infinity with these pieces of equipment was a real work of art. And it's basically the same with the ground handling glider. And there are specializations there too. And these gliders we use now, they are incredibly good. They don't tend to tip into a deep stall, but instead shoot upwards on their own again and again and are just very well suited for this form of paragliding.
Now, you fly an enormous variety of different glider types as well. Is there anything that you'd say is, like, your favorite glider? Can
I wouldn't go that far. I've never really been a fan of those ultra-stretched gliders because it's not necessary. Performance doesn't come from the stretch. On the contrary, with a lot of stretch, you get the opposite. But I did have a favorite glider from Fii, which was actually more in the C range. An Allegro prototype, which I also used for this jump from 7,000 meters. It's incredible. It has incredibly great handling. It basically wasn't suitable for the quality seal because it was just too agile. I also used it for various photo sessions to skim stacks and stuff like that. It's simply my favorite glider. This bird is an Allegro prototype. It was just incredibly great to fly. But I can also get extremely excited about a Sonata. A classic A-glider in a small size, because they just fly so great.
They are super compact, handle corners well, are great for freestyle, and of course, are extremely stable in high winds. And they're originally a lot of fun. I don't have one specific favorite glider. But I tend to like what goes in my direction—freestyle and extreme groundhandling.
For years, you were basically a real extreme soloist in the way you thought, the way you performed with what you did. Now, in the last few years, you say you've gotten a bit older and a bit calmer and stuff like that. And what else has happened is that you've become a father and have a daughter. To what extent has your daughter Nala basically... what has changed your mindset?
I wouldn't say I've really become calmer. At least from a sporting perspective, I'm by no means less excessive than I used to be. I practice the sport as a whole, that means 100 percent. The stunts we do, like this new rollover record, certainly speak for themselves. And especially in the groundhailing area, I'm constantly trying to set new standards. My daughter is just under six years old now and is the most beautiful thing there is. That's beyond question. And she's the girl, she's the core, no question, the core of life. But she hasn't had any influence on my sporting career, or on me rethinking anything or behaving differently.
As soon as you start to hesitate or pull back a bit, you're living very dangerously. Do you take Nala flying with you too? Yes, of course. Although Nala prefers to do one thing above all else. And that is swinging, swinging, swinging. That means with the glider, it can't just go straight; something has to happen, otherwise it's boring. So, crank it up, fly out, and then just do a wing-over and a Saturn, God knows what, a helicopter. In any case, something has to happen. Just flying straight down, that's nothing for Nala.
That means she's already inherited your genes. Yeah, it seems so.
so, it seems so. I mean, she's generally very athletic and very lively, and of course, I like that very much. And above all, that she enjoys flying so much. Right at the beginning of
Your book is dedicated to Jakob, my father. What role did your father play in your life, or in the life path you've taken now?
I generally have great parents. My father is the one who always took charge in these sporting thermals. He took us climbing, ski mountaineering, and to all these extreme areas. And of course, he was also the first one with the paraglider that I took along. And because of that, I was actually able to pursue this career. Because if he hadn't shown up with my paraglider back then and done those first jumps with me, who knows if I would have ever started with it at all. You don't know that, of course, no question. But because my father always supported me, actually always stood behind my ideas, and also brought me to this sport and was, of course, my first big role model, no question, I dedicated the book to him.
Where do you see yourself in ten years? Well, hopefully still in this motivated field I'm in now. I love the sport immensely. I love life immensely. Traveling the world with the aircraft, with the sports equipment, teaching, instructing, testing, and so on. So I hope that isn't limited by time. If you look at Tony Benn, he's surely changed a bit over the years, but he's still active in the sport and is still certainly one of the very, very good Bündner. And yeah, maybe you enjoy it a bit more because you don't necessarily have to prove anything anymore or have this drive to always beat everyone else, but you can just enjoy it much more, and I hope that continues for the next ten years as well.
That means, at some point, there might be a Mike King as a sort of elder statesman. Someone who can look back on a huge amount of experience and a great story and say, "Now, I'm just enjoying it."
Well, I'm already enjoying it now and looking back is always good, but you should primarily look forward. I still have so many ideas. I've already planned a new record story for next winter. I'm currently building this new test label that I'm setting up under the company Mike King, under pro.test. So pro.test somehow fits me. Under this label, I will offer the test flights in the future and, of course, promote and push ground handling extremely, and realize stories. I have a few really good friends who always support me. Thomas from U-Turn is certainly one of them. He has always promoted me and helped me a lot with many stories and really supported me.
And I also have to mention that I constantly surrounded myself with incredible people in the team, some of whom were actually volunteers and worked for free. They supported me incredibly. I'm always in contact with great people who have done cool photo sessions with me over and over again, asking for nothing and just giving. And they've always stood behind me and, at times, even put up with me. I'm not exactly easy to deal with. Basically, you have to be grateful to have such people around you who support you to such an extent. Stefan, a friend from Switzerland, who is always there for the ground handling courses, supports me a lot. Very massively. And of course, many people from the press and from the scene. And I wouldn't want to do without that.
Alright, Mike. Then I wish you the best of luck in successfully implementing this perspective you have for the coming years with your Pro-Test assignment as a very professional test pilot, which you're now offering as your own story. And likewise with your ground handling courses and all the other possible records that will follow. Thank you for this very insightful, great conversation. And yeah, I wish you all the best. I say
Many thanks and best regards to everyone out there.
That was Mike Küng in conversation with Lucian Haas. If you want to learn more about Mike's projects and perspectives, I can recommend reading his autobiography Legacy. It is available, among other places, on the website www.mikeküng.com. You can also find information there about the ground handling courses and other training sessions that Mike offers. In the show notes for this podcast episode on Lu-Glidz, there is also a series of additional links, including to various videos documenting Mike's actions. Many other interesting stories from the world of paragliding have already appeared in the podcast Podz-Glidz. You can find them on Lu-Glidz, as well as Soundcloud, Spotify, and other well-known podcast catalogs. If you want to hear more of it, you can simply subscribe to Podz-Glidz in your podcast player.
However, in order for me to produce more episodes, I also need your support for this project. How that works is explained on the Lu-Glidz website, specifically on the Support page. Thanks for listening. See you soon. Ciao.