So I just kept expanding my goals over and over again and did it all slowly, not so hastily, because there are some who want to have everything right away—they started flying last year and want it all immediately—and many of them eventually stop flying because it actually becomes dangerous for them. So I think, because I was always so anxious about flying and, yeah, I always expanded my goals so slowly and always achieved them, it gave me so much motivation to keep going and stick with it.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with
Brigitte Kurbel and
Lucian Haas at the microphone. If
When people talk about paragliders who dominate a competition, they usually think of a man. Kriegel Maurer, for example. The Swiss pilot has already won the Red Bull X-Alps six times in a row. However, there is someone even more successful, at least if you look at the number of victories. And that's where a woman comes into play. The German Brigitte Kurbel from Feuchtwangen has already won the DHV XC-Online competition in the women's category seven times since 2013. Only not in 2017, when she came in second. However, it's not these podium finishes in the foreground, which is why Brigitte also commands great respect from her male flying colleagues. It's flights like the one on June 24, 2019, when she set an FAI triangle world record from the Grente.
268 kilometers, perfectly closed with an evening overflight of the launch site. Brigitte has been considered a pilot who won her first triangle competition since then. She dared to take on a 100-kilometer triangle. Given such numbers, it might sound surprising that the first years of Brigitte's flying went quite differently. She took to the air fearful and uncertain. How that might have been related to her glider choice at the time, how she then experienced her breakthrough all at once, how she was infected by the cross-country flight virus—she tells all of this in this 51st episode of Podz-Glidz. Brigitte also talks about the challenges of flying as a female pilot, her special sense of thermals and intuition, her personal approach to flight risks, and why it is so important not to set too big goals too early when doing cross-country flight.
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Brigitte, we're living in Corona times and I want to talk to you about viruses. But completely different viruses than actual Corona viruses. Namely, the viruses that are interesting for us as pilots, or for you as a female pilot, of course. For one, simply the aviation virus, and I want to talk to you about the cross-country flight virus. But let's just start with the aviation virus. Why and when did you get infected with it?
Well, I actually got my pilot's license in 2005. However, I never really wanted to start flying back then, but my boyfriend insisted on it. We were always skiing and mountain hiking—so, as a hobby, we were always in the mountains. At some point, friends who used to fly said, "Man, you guys absolutely have to do this," and they sent us to the flight school in Zillertal. And I let myself be talked into taking a course there. But after my first flight, I really came down to the ground white and trembling. And when my boyfriend saw the thermals, he said, "No, this doesn't make any sense. We're calling it off."
We're paying for it now, whatever it costs. But by then, I was already so ambitious and thought, no, well, as a human being, you get used to everything. Yes, even in mountaineering, we went up certain peaks and so on where others might be afraid. And I thought to myself, you get used to everything and I'll manage to do it somehow. And then for a very long time, I flew being quite anxious and didn't want to go into any thermals where it would get bumpy or something. Yes, and then over time that settled down a bit and I started flying more thermically. I also talked a lot with other pilots.
And in 2012, I did my first major cross-country flight. I was in the Passajatal at Hirtzer quite often back then. At that time, I flew from the Passajatal into the Bustatal with a stronger west wind.
Did you fly it or did it blow you off course?
Flew it, flew it. Before that, I always flew with Florian Haller—who unfortunately passed away very young, though not while flying.
Anyway, I talked to him. He used to be a competition pilot and flew agro and stuff like that. And he lived there and told me, yeah, the best way to fly routes there is to fly around the back over the Sahntal along the summit. And he explained it to me a bit. And then I flew there and, as I said, landed in the Bustatal. We were also friends there with the local tandem club at Hirtzer. And then, coincidentally, when we were on vacation there in September, the German Open came to town. Yeah, then they convinced me to join the competition because I fly thermals so well and all that. And then I let myself be convinced and took part in it.
And I took second place. Yeah, exactly, second place was it back then. And then I thought, okay, they can only fly when there's thermals. So they're not some wizards. And I can do that too. Yeah, then I actually wanted to do a bit more with competitions and stuff in the following year, 2013. And I looked for flights through XC, through the German one, from the Allgäu to train a bit with cross-country flying. I looked for flights, looked at where they fly there, crossing the valleys and so on. And how high they take off and how high they arrive on the other side.
And things like that, how you do it with cross-country flight planning. And yeah, I just practiced a bit. And I had a lot of fun with it. And since the competitions that took place in 2013 were mostly in bad weather, I didn't end up participating in any of them. And that's how I got into cross-country flight.
Nowadays, I actually prefer flying cross-country more than participating in competitions. Because there, you're still free in your decisions. I find that in competition flying, it's often the case that they give you certain points. And you see a cloud raining off back there. But everyone flies toward it because I have to reach this point. I have to work it off. And as a normal cross-country pilot, you wouldn't fly there at all. You'd rather avoid those spots. And because of that, I'm just freer in my decisions. And that's why I fly
I prefer cross-country flights over participating in competitions. Because that way, you're actually free in your decisions. I find that in competition flying, they often give you certain points to hit. And you see a cloud raining out back there. But everyone flies toward it because I have to reach this point. I have to work it off. And as a normal cross-country pilot, you wouldn't fly there at all. You'd rather avoid those spots. And because of that, I'm just freer in my decisions. And that's why I I prefer cross-country. I'd rather do cross-country. Before we really dive into cross-country flying and your really great successes, I'd like to jump back a bit. You said that at the beginning you were anxious. Very
anxious, yes.
And then you slowly would have learned how to deal with the thermals. Or did it just happen that it caused you less fear? Were there any specific things, special techniques, or stuff where you'd say, that really helped you? Or was there a moment where it eventually clicked in your head? Where you said, ah, now I know how I'm flying and not how I'm being flown. What I have to do for that or something.
Yes, I have to say, because you mention how I fly and that I'm not being flown. Unfortunately, I had that feeling very, very often in the past. Because back then, there often weren't such small gliders. Since I'm in the weight range of, say, 70 or 75 kilos with the gliders. And with all the equipment. So it was difficult to find any glider. And that's why, at the beginning, well, once you're finished with flight school, you don't fly an A-glider anymore, but move up to a B. But I actually always flew safe gliders. So, the Markus Grünthammer gliders from Wings of Change back then.
But all the small gliders went up to 90 kilos. And that was a bit of a problem. That means you're always at the
flying at the lower end of these gliders, basically. Exactly. And back then, the gliders had a larger surface area than they build today. Yeah. And you were like an air buoy being pushed around.
Exactly. And I didn't feel comfortable very often. Even alone at the landing field at Hirzer, when the south valley wind kicked in. I'd turn my circles to lose altitude, and I'd keep getting pushed further away. Then I had to fly forward again. At some point, it just wasn't pleasant enough for me anymore. And here in the flatlands, I have a small hill where I can practice more often. That's here at the Hesselberg, and we do high-wind flying there. And that was of course also stupid, because I was always the first one to fly backwards.
And at some point I said, no, I don't want to do it like this anymore. I want a faster and smaller glider now. And then I switched to the Skywalk, to the Cayenne. And then it got a bit better. I just felt more comfortable under the glider because I wasn't just a pendulum under the glider being pushed back and forth anymore, but I had more influence over the glider. And that's when I dared to, even in stronger wind right there at the Hesselberg, to launch a glider and so on. Because with the other large glider, it would just always sweep me away. And yeah, and at some point, it's just not fun anymore.
It's
that's something that maybe many light pilots—and many women are among them—who actually have this problem of being relatively light. And the difficulty is always finding a correspondingly suitable glider. But that one really should look more closely at which glider size to choose there and maybe really make sure that you choose one, even if it's much smaller. Maybe it looks a bit sharper at first from the certification notes, but that you still choose the slightly smaller glider because, in the end, you feel safer with it, because you simply feel more comfortable under that glider.
Yes, well, for me, it definitely applies. Of course, you have to look at it—not every pilot flies the same way. If you have a lot of brake input, it naturally becomes dangerous very quickly, even with a lot of wind. And if it's gusty. Mhm. If you pull at the wrong moment while flying a D-glider, yes, then it can tip back very quickly. And of course, you have to pay a bit of attention to how you fly and whether you can handle it. But for me, at least, it was like that. However, there are also things today—at the Hesselberg, for example, there's a pilot who is even smaller than I am, who flies a glider for up to 60 kilos. So that kind of thing exists in the B-range now as well.
You don't necessarily have to switch to a C-class. That has already changed.
Just so you understand, was the switch to the Cayenne—and thus the slightly smaller and faster glider that made you feel safer—basically the breakthrough where you said, "Now I feel like I can actually fly" and felt in control?
Yes, I think so, yeah. So when I participated in the German Open, I think that was also my first year flying that glider.
That means 2012 was your breakthrough year, but also because you say you suddenly had the right glider that you were able to handle. Exactly.
Alright, so now we get to your impressive cross-country flight career, because you said that in 2012, first of all, you were second at the German Open, and then in 2013 you started doing cross-country flying. Since then, from 2013 until now in 2020, regarding the German DRVXC, you've been the German champion every time except for one year, 2017, when you came in second once. But otherwise, you've dominated this competition in Germany since then. Does that make you proud in any way?
Well, I'm happy that I've won all of that, but for me, what's actually much more important is...
I mean, I don't think so. Sure, I won in the women's category, but I don't think women and men are that different. I think women can fly almost as well as men; maybe weight makes a small difference because a smaller glider doesn't glide as well, but I think women can achieve so much more, and I'm proud of that, of course. I think my boyfriend is probably even prouder of it than I am.
But yeah, what's more important to me is that I can keep expanding the routes I've planned, that I can see there's still more in it, that more is still possible, and I just want to push that as much as possible and see how far I can get.
You just mentioned your friend—can he still keep up with you today? I mean...
My friend, he flies well, but he has no ambition to fly for something like 10 hours plus, so I'm actually always out on my own. I still have a good buddy, also from Hesselberg, who often goes along, but he can't keep up with me either, so I'm actually always flying alone.
And your friend plays the role of the shuttle? Yes. So he doesn't have that role either?
No, my friend, I'm usually there alone, and as I said, every now and then my buddy from Hesselberg joins me, and yeah, if I land somewhere, I just have to see—either by hitchhiking or by bus, by train—or I know many people in South Tyrol who can pick me up or something, so I don't need him. I don't take him as a shuttle, my friend, but he helps me a lot with the weather.
Out of these seven German DHV championships you've won, is there a specific year you'd say was special for you, or a championship that was your favorite?
No, not the championship itself, but rather my flights, I'd say. Like the first time I flew 200 kilometers, or yeah, my world record flight—like the first time I hit 200, for example, I remember that very clearly, when I flew out from behind the Kronplatz and then those reversal thermals came in the middle of the valley and it kept going "beep, beep, beep" very slightly. Then I took my phone out during the flight, called my boyfriend and said, "So, I've made it to 200." That was, for example, something special, but I wouldn't pin it on a championship like that, yeah.
And as a challenge? Yes, that was an outstanding flight. You just said you flew a world record in 2019, where you flew 268 kilometers from the border, a triangle that you closed completely, so at the end, late in the evening, you circled over the launch site once more and then went in to land. Was that the highlight of the flights, at least of the cross-country flights that were designed as such, where you'd say, that was really my best flight so far?
Yes, that was definitely a highlight. However, it took me a little while to really enjoy it because, well, I'd actually planned to fly into the middle of the valley first thing in the morning when I took off, so that I wouldn't have to get so close to the mountain in the evening. And that just didn't happen because I started so early that there simply wasn't enough thermals up front, and I couldn't get out there. Because of that, I had a relatively hard time getting back up high enough in the evening to be sufficient to close the triangle properly and for it to become a world record. And yeah, I had to take a lot of time at the end, and I was still annoyed until landing that I couldn't do it in the morning as planned.
And yeah, I even talked to my friend on the phone after landing, and he was like, "Well, I'm not happy, now you've flown a world record" and stuff like that. And yeah, it took a little while for it to really sink in. But of course, it was still something special, yeah.
You just said how it was planned. Was this world record of yours also a planned world record? Yes. So did you plan the route exactly as you flew it?
Yes, I had already planned it like that. Well, except for the beginning, where I couldn't get out there. But I had planned it that way. I had flown, I think, 239 or something before, but I couldn't close it. Yeah. That's why it wasn't a world record. I don't know, was it 2016 or something, I'm not entirely sure anymore. And yeah, that's why I had already planned to close it properly in 2019 and then fly a world record, yeah.
Yesterday, in preparation for this conversation, I also looked at the XC DRV again and saw that last year, in 2020, you basically repeated this flight almost one-to-one. You even went a kilometer further, but at the end, you didn't make it back over the launch site, but I think you just landed down there. Which is why, I assume, you can't submit it as a world record anymore. But otherwise, you did the same flight again. Was it also planned, like you saying, I want to repeat this to show I can do it? Or did you actually want to achieve much more? Did you want to say, I'm expanding this now, it has to be a 300er or whatever?
Well, I've been looking at the other corners over the last year to see where you can fly even further. And I've already planned to do more because, I'm sure, there's more to be done and everything just has to go smoothly. Sometimes you get some stupid turbulence, but sometimes you have days where everything runs perfectly like clockwork. And then 300 or more can work.
Now you said you want to expand on it. But I noticed that this flight, in terms of the turning points, is almost a one-to-one copy of the one from the year before. Was it not possible to do it differently, or what was the reason?
Well, I flew different flights last year that were further out at the corner points. I just couldn't get any further down into the Dolomites. That's what I meant about having to expand my range. I've looked at all the corner points carefully. It was just that I couldn't go any further down into the Dolomites. I had been much further to the right at the Großglockner on a few other flights. Yeah, it's possible that it just wasn't possible that day. Unfortunately, I don't have that one in my head that clearly anymore.
What I also noticed is that even though you flew the same route, you were two kilometers per hour faster on average last year. So, on one of them, you averaged 23, and on the one last year, you hit 25. Is that also due to the conditions, or is it maybe just a case of saying, I know this route so well now that I can fly it faster, and I already know where I don't have to be so careful and where I can just step on the gas more.
Well, that's certainly due to the conditions too. I mean, it's not the same every day. For example, if you're coming back from the Großglockner and you come up so high right at the start of the descent that you go straight over the ridge, and then you don't have to turn into the led thermals at the bottom and wait for the next bubble, then it just goes faster. And there are many spots where you practically have to see if you can make it over the ridge or if you have to work your way out somewhere down there again.
Are you the kind of full-gas pilot who says, okay, if it's possible, I'm going full gas, I'll speed across the landscape and look for the straightest lines possible, always following the ridges exactly at the top, and so on?
Yes, I do go full gas quite a lot. However, when you can see, for example, that some paragliders are flying or you know there's a ridge line, you know something is definitely going to come up. In those cases, I'm more cautious and only go about half-gas, expecting more turbulence. And especially in a prone harness, it's always a thing when you get twisted or something; if you get a wing collapse, I try to sit more upright in the prone harness to try and minimize the risk a bit.
We were just talking about small and slower gliders. At the level you're flying at now, and if you say you've flown at an average speed of 25 kilometers per hour over the past year, have you ever considered for yourself, if you were 20 kilos heavier and a man with a large glider, what might be possible in terms of a higher average speed just from that alone with the same flying style and so on? I mean, basically, how much of a disadvantage do you have because of your weight?
Well, I think that is already a big disadvantage. The glider I've been flying so far takes away some of that disadvantage because it's already very good in terms of gliding. But with all the other gliders, I've already noticed, especially when it's larger cross-country flights, that I had no chance against a normal M-glider, whether it was a Mentor or something like that—even B-gliders. I always arrived 200 to 300 meters lower than them after the cross-country, and you then have to make up for that and convert that height again, and that simply costs time and, of course, ruins the average speed.
Unless you're a low-flyer who, of course, flies low everywhere. There are people like that, but that's not really my thing.
If you frequently notice that you're coming in lower than the others and have to work your way back up, and you're now someone—I'm assuming, since you fly those routes and achieve those kinds of results—who is also very ambitious in a certain way. Is it perhaps this point, coming in lower more often, that contributed to you becoming so good?
I don't think it's because I reach deeper depths or anything like that. I think I became so good because I always set myself goals that are realistic—things you can achieve just by sticking with it. And by reaching those goals, it gives you that motivation again where you think, "Man, if I look at how I put it, that 300 is possible," and then you try to put that into practice again. So I just kept expanding my goals and did it all slowly, not in a rush, because there are some people who want to have everything immediately; they started flying last year and want it all right away, and many of them eventually stop flying because it actually became dangerous for them, so...
I think because I was always so anxious about flying and, yeah, because I expanded my goals very slowly and always achieved them, it gave me so much motivation to keep going and stick with it, yeah. Now
It's noticeable when you compare XC competition and especially this very performance-oriented cross-country flying, that men dominate even more than in the general aviation community—not just in terms of performance, but also in the sheer number of people who actually go out to fly. There are really few women who go on long distances at the level you do, who really try it out and set goals and stuff like that. What's the reason for that?
I think that generally, there are just far fewer women who fly, and that's reflected in the numbers. I don't know, I think there are women who are just as ambitious as men. I don't believe there's such a big difference there. So, like I said, I think there are fewer women simply because there are fewer people who fly overall. There are just more pilots, male pilots—for example, we have a bachelor at Hesselberg who's been looking for a woman forever, but he's only there for the flying, so he'll probably remain a bachelor for a long time because it's just hard to find women.
So at Hesselberg, if I think about it, there are two women who fly. Now, probably a third one will decide to do it too, but yeah, and otherwise there are 20 men there.
Could it also be that women who fly a lot—I mean, when you fly very long distances, they say you really have to commit because you spend an enormous amount of time on it. And if you have a partner, or if you don't have a partner who understands that, or who perhaps also flies and can therefore relate to it, it's difficult. And maybe it's easier for men to say, "Well, I have my family and my wife somehow has my back," than for a woman to perhaps say, "Yes, I also have a family, but my husband has my back" or something like that. Is that really perhaps a sociological disadvantage for women as female pilots, that they don't fly as freely or sometimes don't even allow themselves to take the time for it?
So, that is certainly possible, although I have to say, as I mentioned, it was quite different for me. My boyfriend, for example, always wanted to fly and probably would have done it a decade or two earlier, yes. But because I didn't want to fly, he said, no, if you're not going to fly, it doesn't make sense, because then I'd be flying all day and you'd just be sitting around. So, if we do it, we have to do it together. And it would of course be nice if there were more men who thought that way and supported the women, holding their backs. I've also heard from women who, well, I try not to fly as much as the man,
because some people then
get inferiority complexes or something like that.
Yeah, yeah, exactly, and but I've had it the other way around too. Just recently, when I was in Bassano, someone told me about the pilot he used to be with, and it was exactly the opposite. So, if he kept flying like she did, she wanted to break up.
Well, I think that happens on both sides. Although it's true that it's more of a, let's say, logical problem, because historically speaking, women have been in a slightly different role.
Are there any aspects of flying where you would say you have an advantage as a woman?
When it comes to flying, yeah, I don't know, I wouldn't necessarily say that. Maybe with thermals, that you might have a bit more intuition, perhaps. That's what's always claimed. I mean, many
Flight instructors just say, based on training, that on average, women have a noticeably better feel for the glider. That they react better or correct much more finely than men do. They are usually much coarser or something like that. Do you see that with yourself too, when you fly with big cross-country gliders and stuff like that, where you'd say, hey, I'm flying more finely than them? More subtly? More sensitively? More sensitively?
I think, as I said, when it comes to thermals flying, especially in the early stages, when you're flying a long distance very early on, you have to start really early. And in the early stages, when the thermals are still weak or in the evening when they're getting weak again and that strong thermals is no longer there, I do think that I'm definitely more patient. Than many men, they would probably have already...
say, no, I'm not in the mood anymore if I'm only gaining half a meter.
I'm not enjoying this anymore. I'm going to land now, as long as it doesn't crash properly.
That means you can just grit your teeth and say, yeah, as long as it holds, I'm staying right here. I
I'm very patient. For instance, I had one flight that was 197 kilometers from Speikboden, for example. Some cross-country pilots started with me—you know, you get to know them over time, it's always the same people. It was a very tough day and we really took, I don't know, almost one or two hours until we were at the front at Gitschberg, and it dragged on so slowly that they all went down to land. The only one who kept flying was Stefan Laut from the Nova team, and we were the only ones still up there, and I thought to myself, no, I'm going to power through this, and they all went down to land because nobody felt like doing it anymore and
yeah, then it turned into such a beautiful flight. It just suddenly popped and there were great thermals, really soft thermals, and it was just beautiful to fly, and then it turned into 197 kilometers. That was really nice, and I was all alone, as I said, on the way, because Stefan Laut was much faster than me.
And yes, it was really nice, and I think maybe a woman is just more patient.
You said earlier that your world record flight was planned with the various turning points you had. Do you generally approach your cross-country flying that way? Like, are you someone who prepares a lot and uses winter evenings to say, "Okay, now I'm going on Google Earth and looking at all sorts of things," and you already have 37 different triangles saved somewhere on your hard drive, and now you're thinking about how to expand them or whatever, or are you a gut-feeling pilot who just says, "I see a ridge, that should work, I'm heading there and launching"?
Well, when it comes to something like a world record, I think you have to plan it, but for normal flying, I don't really look at anything. So when I started cross-country flying in 2013, I did look at flights, as I said, looking at XC to see how they cross the valleys they normally fly, which ridge they fly, where they go back up, how high they fly down, and things like that. But at some point, I think you have it down and you also know roughly when you have to reach the corner points to manage it from a schedule perspective.
In that regard, I actually just fly by feel most of the time.
You need a gut feeling for that. Do you get that over time, would you say you've developed it, or are there tips on how one can develop such a gut feeling for cross-country flying—to know, for example, what altitudes you need and other things, without having to study it for hours?
Yeah, well, at some point you just know the area where you go flying and you know roughly where the lee slopes are, or you imagine what the valley wind is like in that valley, where it hits against which slope, if I arrive really low somewhere, so that I might be able to soar again and find a thermal connection, or yeah, I actually think about it constantly while flying, what's the regional wind like, how strong is it, at which ridge can it break off, and how does that play out with the valley wind, if there's, for example, a lot of east wind and I'm flying into the Defrenkental from the border,
There's also an east wind in the valley, and if that gets reinforced by the regional wind, then I'm in the lee behind every ridge, and of course, the valley wind is even stronger and it gets all the more unpleasant behind every ridge. That's why I always try to reach as high as possible right away, so I can avoid the strong valley wind down there, because it can get quite uncomfortable down there sometimes. I had a flight like that last year, for example; everyone said, "Oh wow, it was so bad in the Defrenkental with the east wind and all," but honestly, I thought about it and then right after the first crossing...
It was persistent and took some time, but I really spent a long time
worked at it to get high enough to avoid it, because I just thought that way and I know the routes, and I think that many people should think a bit more about that when it comes to cross-country flying, because there are many who, as I said, want to be able to do everything from one day to the next and they just fly behind some people, but they might even look good doing it because they're flying so actively and they're the ones bumping into something somewhere and just don't manage it and then have some kind of collapse and death fears, I don't know, but
I think you should put a bit more thought into it when you're flying, which is why it's better to take it slow and not do everything at once, but rather feel your way into it gradually.
But you just said, okay, you have this east wind situation in the Fregenthal, which also goes from east to west, I'm flying up, but you also said you have these routes, you already knew them that well, which means there's a certain amount of experience there.
Yes, definitely.
How much experience do you need to fly as powerfully as you do?
Well, I think a lot and you also have to be able to fly alone, because, yeah, if I want to fly further like everyone else, I have to fly ahead and then no one is flying in front of me for me to follow, and that's actually what I've basically been doing from the very beginning, going out to fly alone, and I think I already have an advantage over others because, as I said, I'm always thinking for myself. So, a thousand thoughts are racing through my head when I fly, because I'm thinking, yeah, what's the solar radiation like, what's the regional wind like, how does the valley wind work here, and things like that, and yeah, I'm passing by, there's an edge up ahead, could thermals break off there or something, so so many things go through my head or you look at where the birds are flying and so on.
And from that, I think it's important to have experience, of course, and also to be able to manage on your own.
But for you, flying, as you just described it, is it also a lot of a thought process in the air, or how many of these decisions would you say are already under the skin, in your gut or somewhere else inside? Like, you see a bird out of the corner of your eye and you automatically fly towards it, or is it really a cognitive process where you say, "Ah, should I fly there now?" and then you calculate it against the left side, which is also the talkante, and the wind is probably hitting it from behind, so it's a lee side, and that's why I'm flying there now.
Yeah, sometimes it's also like, how should I put it, you see someone flying ahead of you and you don't always have much time to make a decision, so I do think about it actively,
but sometimes I've gotten annoyed with myself for not doing what I thought I should have done, and then realized I'd made the wrong decision—like flying somewhere just because a bird was flying there, but then there was, I don't know, some crosswind or something, and because I flew there, I ended up, I don't know, sinking that deep. And I've gotten annoyed at those kinds of decisions quite often, which is why I think I should focus even more on my thoughts—like what the wind situation is, the stuff I just discussed—and rely on that more rather than, yeah, someone is flying over there, so I'm going there now.
Have
do you have that kind of analytical thinking where you basically go through a list before every decision and say, okay, where is the wind coming from, where is the sun, where is the lee, where is the thermals probably? That guy is flying over there, but that's actually the completely wrong spot; even if he's going up right now, I'm not flying there.
Yeah, well, that could also be a Leepad, I guess.
But do you go
do you go through that systematically in your head all the time?
I don't really go through it systematically; it's just... it's already kind of become second nature to me. It just rattles around in my head, it happens automatically. I don't have to actively work through some list like you mean, it just happens automatically. I'm just in my own world while flying, and that's also kind of the beauty of it, that you just forget everything else and only think about the here and now.
You say it's rattling in your head, so there's always something going on. Do you also experience that after long flights, you might still feel somewhat okay physically, but your head is just mush? Like you're saying, I had to make so many decisions today, I'm not capable of making any more.
Well, not so much in the head. I often feel it in my body when you've had a strong thermals day and then had to do a lot of work with the glider; I notice it then, like, two days in a row, but on the third day I can't fly 250 kilometers, roughly, yeah, but for two days in a row I notice it physically very much, but mentally it doesn't bother me. For me, it's more of a relaxation because, as I said, because I'm just not in my...
not in my normal environment, I'd say, I'm in a completely different world, yeah, and I can just think about flying and block everything else out, because otherwise it's often like, you're working on something and already thinking about the next step and oh, I still have to call someone and I still have to do that, yeah, all those everyday thoughts just fall away and you're just in your tunnel, doing your thing, and yeah, you're just in the here and now.
Do you enjoy being in the zone?
Yes. You
But you said earlier that you landed after your world record and you were probably in a tunnel too, but you were actually disappointed at first that you didn't fly the way you planned. When you look at the route and have the mileage in your head, how much of that is still enjoyment?
Oh, there's a lot of enjoyment in it. I can also just go up a mountain with some friends and fly, just flying comfortably and taking my time to think, "Should I keep flying further if I have to cross a valley or something, will I make it back?" I can take half an hour or an hour, I'm in no rush—unless, of course, I have a planned record flight, then you basically have to give it some gas.
Let's talk about some of the practical aspects of cross-country flying. Flying long distances for hours means, let's say, you need a certain amount of logistics for your own supply and disposal. As a woman, you're basically at a disadvantage. How do you handle going pee?
So I always have a diaper. There are also ones for women from the gliding world, where there's a silicone shell with a tube; it's supposed to work like a urinal condom. I haven't tried that yet, though. I always have a diaper with me, but for me, the problem is usually that I actually can't do it because I'm so in my tunnel. I've already gotten into the habit of thinking about drinking as the first thing during every cross-country flight. Because while I'm flying along the mountain ridge, fully in the gas, and expecting another thermal up ahead, and then it starts bumping around, I just don't have the time.
I'm way too focused on everything else, and yeah, that's why I always try to drink whenever I'm doing, for example, a cross-country flight, so that I'm okay throughout the whole flight. I get so tense and into my flight that I completely forget about it. But as soon as I land, I have to get to the bushes immediately. It just doesn't happen fast enough.
That means you often end up packing a dry diaper back in, even though you jumped into the bushes right after landing.
Yeah, exactly. Exactly.
Has it ever happened to you while flying that you realized, like on a really long flight, that it was so exciting that you eventually notice, shit, I've really had too little to drink and too little to eat. I can't fly with focus anymore.
Yeah, I definitely had that, especially in the early days, until I got into the habit of actually thinking about drinking during every crossing. So often, I don't eat anything at all during the whole flight. I do have a piece of bread with me, but I just take it with me again. So I think the most important thing is simply the drinking.
What are you drinking? Just water, or did you mix something into it, or are you drinking tea or something?
I always put water in it. I fill it up, especially when I'm at the limit, so I don't have to carry it up. And I put magnesium tablets in there for my muscles. Yeah, it's quite good. Because usually, as I said, if you've had a thermally active day, you can really feel your muscles. And even though I do a lot of sports too, it's really good to give them a little help with some magnesium.
You say you refill it at the limit. Do you actually carry any other water ballast? Because you're a light pilot, and you say every extra kilo, at least in the air, gives me a bit more stability and maybe speed?
So I used to do that before. That I put more water into the harness.
But not much, because not much fit inside. And I've been flying the X-Rated for quite a while now, and it's inherently so heavy that I already struggle a lot when I have to lift the thing during takeoff. And then I have all my gear on it plus two reserves. So, to be honest, it's already too heavy for me when I have to stand there and wait for a relief. That's why I don't really want to fill it with any extra water.
How much does your entire gear weigh? I mean, with those two rescues and everything included?
25 kilos.
And do you carry that up to the border too? By yourself? Yes. There's no friendly co-pilot there saying, "Oh, come on, Brigitte, let me take that from you."
No, but one time someone actually really did help me. That was Robert Blum. He took something off my hands and carried it up for me, so that was really nice. Yeah, exactly.
Then another practical question. Which flight instruments do you use during a flight? Do you have one? Or several?
So I have several. I have the old Skytrax 2.0. I haven't bought a new one for that yet. And I have the Navita Audi. Since I'm also sponsored by Navita,
I always get costs from them, cheap ones. Some updates—if, for example, a new device comes out, you can usually have them retrofitted or something.
And what do you save, or do you always have something stored on these devices before your flights? Do you have thermals or anything else on there, or do you not say anything at all?
Nothing at all. You just want to
fly by feel and your
...trust your thoughts in that moment. Exactly. Except for the world record flight, I had something else. I had points in there, corner points. Yeah, because I find that every day is just different. And that's why it doesn't make sense for me to save anything. For one thing, I was flying at Osterfeld. I had never been there before back then. And I met a Stefan Laut there, whom I already knew from Schweigboden and such. And he says to me, "Yeah, did you enter all the points into your device, like you have to fly here?" I say, "No." He says, "Yeah, how?" He was completely stunned. Yeah, but Stefan is also a...
Stefan Laut is also... he's even been on the podcast here. And he's a very tech-savvy person who's constantly checking his phone during flights, opening all sorts of apps to see where it's raining, where the wind is coming from, and probably querying all sorts of other things too. You're, yeah, how do you say, the complete opposite.
Yeah, exactly. The only time, I'd say, that it annoyed me because all the devices failed was also at the Schweigboden. At that time, I didn't have the Navitur yet, I only had the Skytrax, and I took off—and back then, those kinds of mobile apps and stuff didn't exist yet. So I took off and noticed right after the start, man, somehow the Skytrax isn't working anymore. And then, of course, the flight wasn't recorded, but it got even thicker that day. So I just kept flying normally anyway, then Gitschberg, then over to Rosskopf, then back again, and then comes that big crossing over to Höllentragen.
Yes, and then during the crossing, I obviously accelerated fully again, and then at the speed bar—there's a small ribbon on the glider that's pulled through this pulley system—it snapped.
I didn't have a speed bar anymore, no instrument, those are flight logs. And then I thought, okay, if I gain some altitude again after the Höllenkragen and then fly across, fly to Lüsen, there's going to be another big crossing, then I can try to repair it somehow. But it didn't work. I mean, I tied a knot in it, but then it wouldn't work through the pulley anymore. And because of that, you need an insane amount of strength. It's truly gigantic how much strength it takes away from you. I couldn't push the speed bar through with my foot anymore. I had to pull down the A lines with my hand in front, and then I could reach into the bottom of the speed bar and hold it like that.
And that really started to annoy me after Lüsen; I just went to Kronplatz and didn't go down to land because it wasn't flying anymore, it was just a struggle. It really frustrated me that I didn't have such devices available, and that's why I basically bought the NaviTurk as a backup. Now it's the other way around: now it's Audi, my primary device, and I use the Skytrex as a backup. If I lose everything because one device fails or something, I just record into the Trex again.
You just mentioned the physical effort involved in accelerating. Some pilots say they do special training to build up the relevant muscles so they can really fly for hours, because it can get really exhausting under certain conditions. Do you do anything like that, where you say you train or go to the gym sometimes just for the shoulder muscles and stuff, because you need that to be able to work constantly for hours in rough conditions without getting tired?
So I do train, but not for that reason; I've just always done a lot of sports and
because you use the Zeno
since I fly more over the rear control lines, I've put a bit more emphasis on it and made sure to train the shoulder area a bit more, but I've actually basically always done that. So from that perspective, I'm not doing anything special.
Does cross-country flying actually have its downsides for you? And if so, which ones?
Yes, I think, for example, the ridge soaring is one point. At the ridge, on a good day, there are so many pilots there and there are many who think, okay, everyone always flies far out, so I'll just go over there and check it out and yeah, fly behind the others, but it's not always that easy. I mean, there are days when it's simple and beautiful, but there are also days because you're just flying into a north wind. In the past, you didn't fly into the north wind in South Tyrol at all; the flight instructors told the South Tyroleans—I know some of them—no, if there's a north wind, it's forbidden to fly, yeah, and you only fly there if there's a weak north wind and then always near the main ridge, and it can also happen very quickly because the weather reports aren't always completely accurate, yeah, and then sometimes you do get a bit of a stronger north wind and it becomes very, very uncomfortable very quickly, and yeah, and also dangerous.
There
the cold north wind really sweeps over the ridge and you also get strong sinks each time.
Yeah, exactly, especially when you cut into the Defrenkental behind the Staller Sattel, a valley goes off towards the northwest. And if you come from here and then fly over to the Großglockner, the world is, let's say, in "quotation marks" okay, because you're flying with the wind, but afterwards you have to fly against it, and then the last slope is positioned here where you have to turn the corner again, and then you're right in the lee, and it can get brutal sometimes, and so I think a lot of people underestimate it, or also the flight I told you about last year, where many of them flew almost into the valley wind, I'll put it that way, against the east behind all those edges and were actually in the lee, and then
Yeah, everyone complained after the flight, like, "Man, that was so bad," and so on. For me, it wasn't bad because I was up high, yeah, but the others didn't know that; they just fly after the others, they see someone flying ahead and then just—bam—follow them without thinking, and yeah, that can get dangerous pretty quickly.
That means you'd mainly see the downsides of cross-country flying in the fact that some pilots, due to a lack of experience, have too much of a willingness to take certain risks.
Yes, but there are some people who are just more risk-tolerant and others who are more cautious, like me. Everyone has to find their own way, but when it comes to flying, if things go really wrong, you don't get a second chance.
Do you ever see downsides for yourself, or well, it could also be a downside, that you say, ah, if you're standing in an XC competition and see, ah, I'm already relatively far ahead and now I actually have to make a big flight, and you see there are conditions where it might be possible, and then it says, yeah, on days like that you just have to go to not miss the good days, or does that not count for you because you say I'm so hooked on it anyway, that's my thing, I have no problem with that at all.
No, well, if it's a good day and it turns out to be a good day, I have no problem with it, then I'll fly. But if it's some day that was forecasted to be really good, but then ultimately turns out... I've already been at the limit with that, like I said, it's not always the same, and sometimes the north wind just breaks through. For example, that one time the north wind blew over, yeah, how should I put it, over two mountains in the valley—where two mountains intersect and form a valley floor—the north wind just blew in there and it was so disgusting at that spot, and I went down to land, and many South Tyroleans were standing down there with me on the meadow and...
So I'll just skip the flight; I don't need to put myself in danger for that, it doesn't give me anything. I mean, what's the point of doing that? I still have goals I want to achieve, and I don't want to ruin everything just because of one flight where I put myself at risk; I'd rather just fly one less time.
Well, cross-country flying—or performance cross-country flying, as I call it—you pay an enormous amount of attention to that mileage. That's what decides everything in the end, including which points you get for it and all that. Do you ever feel like, "Ah, I'd actually like to just fly more often without having that number at the end as a benchmark"? Or are there sometimes situations during a flight where you think, "You're circling in some beautiful, soft thermals, you have a great view, and you know it's a super nice moment of enjoyment that I could actually stay in longer and just enjoy, but no, I need my average, I have to get my kilometers, I have to keep flying fast and basically block out the enjoyment at that point."
Or is that not an issue for you at all?
No, that's not really an issue for me, because there are few days that are actually so good that you can fly really long distances. And if there are, then I want to make the most of them; I do it for my own enjoyment because I want to do it, not because I have to. And there are plenty of days where I can just enjoy a flight, like for example the flight I did out of Uldental, where I flew over the Ottler and saw that it continues into Switzerland, it goes further over the Reschen Pass towards Austria, but then I just didn't know if I'd get back or not, so I sort of meandered around a bit and then at some point I tried to fly back, and it was only 100 kilometers, but it was beautiful.
I was out there all by myself and I can enjoy that. I can also have a very, very short flight and enjoy it, like at the Hesselberg, for example; usually, there are really very few days where you can fly cross-country there, and you mostly just do a bit of windsurfing and stay in one place, so to speak, but I still have fun and I can enjoy it, I climb in the thermals, see how high it goes, and yeah, try to feel the thermals.
Is cross-country flying still something like an addiction for you?
Yes. With the
you might also sometimes have withdrawal symptoms where you just say, I have to get back into the air now, and not just for a little hop over the Hesselberg, but I really have to go to the Alps and it has to be a long distance?
Yes, well, I'm actually always happy when it gets a bit earlier and we can fly to the Alps again, but towards the end of the summer, I'm also looking forward to it again, because we go to Lanzarote very often in November and December and fly there in strong winds, and you can't really fly crazy long distances there, so I'm always looking forward to that too—I'm very, very, how should I put it,
So I don't have a preference for just one direction; I can enjoy both.
If someone came up to you now and said, Brigitte, you're so successful, what tip would you give me on how I can become a better cross-country flight pilot? Are there a few basic tips you'd say to pay attention to that would definitely help someone progress?
Yes, I think, well, just like I did at the beginning, you have to read up a bit, I'd say, about active flying—how do I fly actively—and practice the whole thing a bit, because you should already master that, because in cross-country flying you constantly end up in lee situations; you might be flying in weaker wind, but yes, you can definitely pass through lee zones, and then you should already have your glider under control, and in the thermals it's also important to fly actively, right? And then you have to read up, I don't know, about how the valley wind systems work, how it all works when you fly cross-country, as I said, watch other flights, how high do I have to fly, which spot should I fly to, where do they normally fly along, and where do they climb again, what time do I have to be at the turn points, and things like that. So that's also a bit of work, it's not just practical pleasure,
...it's also a bit of work until you get to that point, but yeah, I think it's worth it and it's fun, and I think anyone can learn it. I mean, if you just follow others around, you'll never get as good as they are.
In cross-country flying, they say a lot of things, like, oh, above all, you have to be able to fly fast, but the other part, which is just as important, is that you have to be able to turn and fly thermals as well as and as efficiently as possible. From what I hear, many people say that you're particularly good at that—are there any tips and tricks you can share?
As I said, I always look at where, yeah, what time it is, where the sun is shining, what the terrain is like, where thermals can break off on that terrain because the valley wind is flowing against it, so I always imagine the air like water, so if this were a river flowing along the valleys, where
accelerates around some corners or something like that, and yeah, I try to use logical thinking, although, as I said, I already mentioned that it all works...
It just happens automatically for me—thinking about where there might be something, and then I fly there and try to get up, and I'm very patient, and then it usually works out. I've also stood on the ground before, you know.
Are there any specific techniques for thermals flying itself, in terms of the technique of thermals flying, that you've developed for yourself?
I wouldn't say that, I just try, when I
get into the thermals, now the dog comes,
when I fly into the thermals, I try to feel whether it's more to my left or to my right,
how far I can fly, let's say, before I fall out again and then try to circle the thermals. If I fly in now and turn to the right—that's my easy side—and fall out immediately, then I try a bit further, the next time a bit further to the left, if no one else is in there; otherwise, of course, I have to turn the way the others are turning, yeah. But I try to feel a bit where the thermals are, where they're most intense, and try to stay in the spot where they're strongest to then turn upward.
Are you someone who turns very tightly?
Not always.
Not always?
Not always. I mean, I do sometimes fly tight, but only when it makes sense—like when the thermals in that spot are very strong and more localized. If they're larger, or even when a lot of people are flying with me, I actually try to fly with the others so we don't just get in each other's way. But sometimes I think to myself, they're flying in that spot, they keep falling out of the thermal, and I wonder why they're flying over there and not here, yeah. Some people let the wind and the thermals push them around so much that they get spat out the back again, yeah. That means,
you keep holding it back and you have a sense of it, noticing, "ah, I'm getting pushed sideways, I need to hold back a bit."
Yes, that could also be the reason, as I said, in my early days with my glider that was too large, it always threw me off like that. Yes, maybe that is
still in the
...at the back of your head a bit. There
you learned to hold back more and do that. Finally, one more question that you probably get asked or get comments on every now and then. Your name, you're Brigitte Kurbel, so the name is sort of the program. How often do you... That's not a
Artist name. That's
Is it an artist name? Not an artist name. Yes, I mean it is. And how often do people bring it up and actually make comments about it, like, "oh, there goes the crank" or whatever? Are there any stupid jokes about it?
Yeah, well, in the beginning, of course everyone said, "well, the name says it all" and stuff like that. But I think everyone's used to it by now and it's just a German-language joke.
A foreigner wouldn't really get it now. They don't know that Kurbel... How
would you always have to explain that first?
Yes, exactly. That's why you're
you're getting out of there nicely.
2021 is still a Corona year. Have you planned anything special for this year anyway?
Yes, if I can go flying and go abroad, then I'll definitely do that, as long as the risks allow it. I mean, I'm not a fan of it right now, even if XContest and all their flights keep being recorded, going somewhere into risky areas now, even if it's allowed. But if everything is generally okay like last year, I'll definitely go back to South Tyrol and around with the motorhome—you're relatively self-sufficient with that—and go flying a bit.
You always say you want to set goals for yourself. What's your next big goal after the world record with 268? The 300 must happen, right?
The 300 will come. I'm quite sure of that. Yes, it's just, as I said, the question of how good the day is and if you just have a run, because sometimes it's just not like when my gear failed and my line snapped from the speed bar. Sometimes you have those days, and then no matter how good the day is, yeah, nothing comes of it. But I'm sticking with it and I'm sure that it's doable.
Alright, Brigitte. Then I wish you a 300 year in 2021, without
equipment failure and without line tears from anything, whether it's the speed bar or somewhere else. Thank you for this conversation, it was super interesting, and I wish you much success with everything that's coming up, but above all, have lots of fun with all the flying and may you have as beautiful tunnels as possible to fly through so you can enjoy it all perfectly.
Okay, good, thanks.
Yeah, thanks to you.
Yes, Brigitte Kobel in conversation with Lucian Haas. If you want to learn a bit more about Brigitte and her long-distance XC flights, you can find some more links in the show notes for this podcast episode on the Lu-Glidz blog. Did you enjoy this episode? Then please recommend Podz-Glidz. All previous podcast episodes are available on Lu-Glidz and Soundcloud, as well as on well-known audio platforms like Spotify, iTunes, Google Podcasts, etc. To make sure you don't miss a new episode, you can also subscribe to Podz-Glidz right now in your podcatcher. Perhaps you also have suggestions for other interesting guests for Podz-Glidz. There are surely many untold but worthwhile stories, even from the lesser-known corners of the paragliding cosmos. Just send me an email at lugleitzkontakt at gmail.com. And if you aren't already, here's one more tip.
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