64. Big Bird - Achim Joos

Paragliding is a sport that, for me, has a lot to do with elegance and delicate movements, and not with this forceful ripping and using violence or strength to make the glider show who's boss; rather, it's a game played together.

Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.

Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.

Today with Achim Joos and Lucian Haas at the microphone.

Almost 20 years ago, Achim Joos was something like the figurehead of the German paragliding scene. In competitions, he was always at the front from a young age. In 2003, at the age of 25, he won the PWC World Cup, which at the time carried more weight than the world championship title. Shortly after, he became the German champion three times in a row. But then he left the racing circuit. He studied, only to eventually dedicate his life entirely back to his passion for flying. He founded the Freiraum flight school with its own unique philosophy. Since then, the joy of the mountains, hike and fly, the playful experience of nature and glider, and precisely not the drive for performance have been his main focus.

In this episode number 64 of Podz-Glidz, Achim Joos tells his story. How he did his first solo high-altitude flights as early as 10 years old. And how he participated in competitions at 16. How he became a state-sponsored elite athlete as a Gleitschirm-Blog. How he then lost his motivation for competitions. And what ideas and techniques for a fun and emotional style of flying he tries to sow in the minds of his students today as a flight instructor. We talk about, among other things, the moments of joy in Hike and Fly, efficient thermals flying, the importance of a relaxed control posture. And how he got his nickname Big Bird. If you like this podcast, then you can support my work on it in various ways.

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Achim, yesterday was the PWC or the PWC Superfinanzium. And now the finals in Desentis are over. Who actually won? Who won there? I think Luc Armant has

won. I think that means you don't actually know.

I actually followed it until the penultimate day. I had Aran Durugati leading for a long time. And yesterday at the flight school, we had quite a lot to do on our final day of the basic course. That dragged on relatively long. That's why, honestly, I haven't looked at it yet. But I'm interested in it and I will catch up. But that was because of yesterday. However, I know there was a change in leadership between Aran Durugati and, I believe, Luc Armant.

But let's take a closer look at that again, as I said.

Yes, the last task was cancelled yesterday. And with that, Luc, who was already in the lead, remained in the lead. But that means you still follow these PWC things often. Yes. Today with interest.

Yes. Well, of course not with the same enthusiasm as back when I was involved myself. You naturally follow it, of course. But even during the time when I was still flying competition pilots, you're naturally more into the subject. And you also watch competitions you're not part of to see which names and what types of flight styles are present. And available. But I'm interested in it. And it's also the case that as a former overall competition winner, you're seeded for the Super Final. So you could actually participate there without going through the qualification route.

However, that's less of a discussion for me now. Rather, I'm clearly interested in it because I have a huge passion for the sport, but also for the competition pilot.

And many of the competition pilots I used to fly with are still participating and are still very successful. So you already have a connection. I mean, if you look at the top 10 or 15, there are still several names there. Stephan Morgenthaler, Krieger Maurer of course, Stefan Wies and also several others. Andreas Malecki, Pepe. Of course, they're always at the front in competitions too. And it's always the case that you can identify with the competitors you know. And then you naturally identify more with a competition like that, compared to when you don't know anyone at all.

...don't know anyone. What does "following" mean to you? Do you also look at the live tracking? And see what line choices they're making? And like, "I'd probably fly it differently there." Do thoughts like that go through your head?

It really depends a bit on the time I have in the respective situations. Mostly, these competitions take place during the season when it's high season for me or for us at the flight school. Then everything is a bit more fleeting from a visual perspective. Then the focus is more on the results list. But of course, I also take a look at live trackings again and again, even at the X-Alps. However, less to judge whether the line choice is okay or not. Because you're not there live and it's very hard to estimate, as in the respective situation, what the best strategy would be in terms of the flight path. That's why I don't presume to judge that from a distance. Because I know myself from competition flying how situational and different it can be.

And that sometimes a path that seems quite illogical is actually clearly the better one at the specific minute the decision is made.

Do you think that with the competition experience you bring, you read live tracking or result lists differently than an average pilot who just says, "Oh, who's in 1st place, who's in Xth place," and sees some points at the back and some weird result he doesn't understand? So, is your perspective on that completely different?

I believe so. When you've flown in competitions yourself, you clearly have a different perspective. Because the paragliding scene, the competition scene, has never really managed to convey through the media what exactly is going on. It's also a difficult subject. Probably, there's simply too little money in the scene. The only competition where that works relatively well is the Red Bull X-Alps. Not really with the World Cups. Through social media, individual pilots who have a good touch and are active can share some images, which is already great. Mhm. But it's really hard to convey how high the level of performance is in these competitions.

How tactically oriented those flights are. And if you've experienced that yourself, I believe you can better understand the level of performance being delivered there. And that it's not always just this brute force—where the fastest person just switches off their brain and pushes full throttle through the air masses. But rather that the factors are tactical flying, line choice. Which pilots, if they try to isolate themselves, am I willing to follow? If pilots pull away or choose a different line. And you know exactly: they have a flying style that doesn't correspond to mine at all.

That you'd rather let them go. Some of it will probably even, I can imagine, resemble road cycling in terms of the tactics. And I think that as a competition pilot, you can better understand the decisions. Or certain situations. Including, of course, the unfortunate situations. Standing just before the finish line. Or also simply having bad luck sometimes. You know that from various outdoor sports, like ski jumping, etc. That sometimes you just have the necessary luck on your side. And sometimes things just go differently.

Based on your experience, how much of the average paraglider pilot do you think is actually interested in these competitions?

I don't think it interests that many people at all. It's different with the X-Alps because of the media coverage. You can already see the huge difference with the X-Pyrénées.

And the X-Alps. If you were to ask, "Name the top three from last year's X-Pyrénées," few people would be able to answer. Probably not even me. It was Kriegel twice, and he didn't participate in the last one. Yeah, I'd still know the winner. But naming the second and third places is already getting harder, even though they also delivered outstanding performances. And that's where you always see how important it is for the media spotlight to be shone on an event like that. And that is, as I said, difficult with the classic competition.

Decentralized cross-country flight competitions are, of course, something completely different from World Cups, World Championships, or European Championships. From that perspective, I can completely understand why people just glance over them briefly. And the names that are frequently found at the top are probably also present in the minds of paragliders. But what is actually being done there exactly, and how high-level the athletes are, is probably not at all aware to many. But I see less of a fault or necessity there for the hobby pilot who practices this as a hobby; I completely understand that he is busy with his flying. And that he also wants to enjoy it.

That's exactly right. But generally, it would be nice if this transfer—what's actually going on there—would succeed a bit better. I think that's always good in this sport. And I'm not just talking about this type of competition, but also acrobatics competitions. The paragliding scene is so broad by now, and every discipline has its own complete justification. But through this diversification, a distance naturally arises between the different camps, which I don't think should exist in paragliding. I really see a family behind it. It's always good to know what a sport can offer, what the different disciplines achieve.

And I have a lot of respect for what the top pilots achieve in every single area. But of course, I also have a lot of respect for pilots who you don't even notice. Everything isn't defined by the competition pilot, but also by pilots who simply don't participate in competitions, who can assess themselves well, and who practice the sport or the hobby of paragliding simply as a fascination.

Do you see a way to make these competitions more attractive or understandable for spectators, even if it's just watching from home?

That

is a very difficult topic. That was always the issue during my active competition years too. That's when the so-called Paragliding Grand Prix was initiated, which also disappeared very quickly, where that topic was being tested. If we go back even a few years further, there were competitions in Verbier in the French Switzerland, which was before my time, where huge crowds of spectators stood at the landing field. Back then, it was also more about things like small mini-courses, point landings, because the paragliders of that time didn't yet have the real potential to actually fly on a course.

The sport, the paraglider equipment, and the pilots have all continued to evolve. It became increasingly professional, and the level of performance grew. That certainly benefited the sport, but of course, it distanced it from the audience. Some years or decades later, there was an attempt to find a middle ground again. It was a bit of course flying, pilot against pilot, but with an attempt at being close to the public. There was an attempt to integrate that. It very quickly met with resistance, also from the pilots' side. Because let's just say, it's actually something praiseworthy that the paragliders—or probably hang gliders as well—who fly the competitions say, no, I really want us to participate in competitions where the highest possible sporting level takes place.

And then it becomes difficult to convey. I mean, explaining a football match is easier than a complex paraglider. It's a bit like a transition where you might see maybe 150 pilots waiting briefly in the starting pack before the race actually begins. And then you don't see anyone for a long time.

Yeah, they're then 30 kilometers away at the next buoy and then at some point they might reappear again, if they even head back at all, or whatever.

Exactly, and some don't show up, struggling with their fate because a shadow entered. So, all the things that are thinkably unfavorable for conveying it to the audience. And I think that's the big difference between the willingness to hold competitions in a way that is also beneficial for the audience. And I think if you get to the point where it's attractive for the audience, some level of sporting quality probably suffers as a result.

That means the people who are, well, the pilots who are interested in this racing format now and really say, I'm choosing this tight racing with the others, really pushing and then to the finish line, and who finds the better line and all that—the lot of tactics—that just wouldn't be possible with audience proximity anymore, and then maybe many of those who find it great would drop out.

I can well imagine that. I am still convinced that if you want to become as good as possible as an athlete, as a paraglider, and want to learn as much as possible, there is no way around World Cup flying. That is definitely the pinnacle for a paraglider competition pilot. And the way they fly there has little to do with audience appeal. I think everyone is aware of that too. To make it appealing to the audience, you would probably have to shell out an insane amount of money, and even then, it's not certain whether it would actually interest non-flyers. From that perspective, it has simply developed in that direction, and I believe that a large part of the pilots have accepted that and live with the fact that you are anything but in the media spotlight, which also, even though I'm no longer active in it,

doesn't always worry me. But I think it's a shame, because those are really great achievements that have always been made and are still being made today. And even the paragliding scene doesn't know exactly who is currently leading or which pilots are consistently at the very front. The problem is certainly that the pilots who want to be as good as possible or reach their full potential are already in the World Cup and should clearly show what they're capable of on that platform. But it's not the platform that requires the greatest recognition in the paragliding scene.

From a purely sporting perspective, it certainly should be—I mean from a flying perspective—it's obvious that the combination of athleticism and flying in the X-Alps is ranked higher.

Achim, you've said it several times now, you won the overall World Cup at the PWC yourself. That was in 2003, you were 25 years old. Why? Why did you leave the world of competition flying a bit later, even though you were so successful in sports?

I entered the world of competition flying very early; I started competitive sports around the age of 17 and then joined the paraglider national team very quickly, also at 17 or 18.

And of course, that was my entire enthusiasm, getting into that. My world, my life, revolved absolutely around paragliding and competition flying. And my biggest goal was the Overall World Cup. The Overall World Cup, which at that time wasn't held as a single event, but was five or six competitions, each lasting a week. Because of that, as a pilot, you had to prove yourself in diverse regions, with diverse flying terrains and diverse flying styles that were required. And I still believe that it was a great platform,

...that was offered at the time, and I was able to win the Overall World Cup. That was my personal sporting goal. The highlight. The highlight, exactly. Of course. And I don't want to bring any general value judgment into this now—people do like to take the World Championship title—but I can well remember some conversations about what one pilot or another would prefer. And most of them already mentioned the World Cup or the Overall World Cup.

And the following year, I—or by achieving this overall World Cup victory—had reached my personal goal.

I also still loved paragliding back then, but I already noticed that those few years when I was exclusively in this competition circus had left their mark, in the sense that as a paragliding competition pilot, you are naturally somewhat determined by outside factors. I mean, the location is dictated to you, where you have to show up. And you're not always in agreement with the competition committee's decisions, whether it's the tasks or the weather conditions where you wait, wait, and wait.

And those were factors—at some point, a certain sense of resignation almost crept in for me. I wasn't enjoying it anymore. At that time, this fascination with hike and fly, Piwak flying, was really starting to grow in me. I noticed I was being drawn more in that direction. And yet, thanks to the truly brilliant support from the sports promotion group, where I was accommodated and supported as a top-level athlete, a paraglider.

Sportfördergruppe means you're a so-called sports soldier in the Bundeswehr. But you were allowed to do your sport there and officially

training. Exactly. If you look at German elite sports and you're not lucky enough to be in a fully professional sport—where the sponsorship deals come with enough money—then there are two options. Either you're in the funding program via the Federal Border Guard or in the Sportfördergruppe. That makes up the main part of German elite sports at the Olympics and in all sorts of international competitions.

Even if that's a bit off-topic... we'll get back to competition flying later. I want to take this detour through the sport promotion group for a moment. How do you even get into that with a sport like paragliding, which isn't Olympic or anything? I mean, what did you have to do to make them say, "We're going to sponsor this guy now"?

My youthful naivety actually worked in my favor here. I had heard about this sports funding system from a competitive pilot at the time, Bernie Koller from Allgäu. And I was exactly at the age where you still had to join the Bundeswehr back then.

And I was already in the national team and in the A-squad at the age of 18 or 19. That was the minimum requirement to even be eligible for such funding. It wasn't clear to me which category we were placed in as paragliders. Namely, of course, an absolute niche sport. So, not of great importance. But for me, the sport was of great importance. And that's why I approached the sports funding group with good self-confidence and was able to provide the necessary documents. A-squad and so on and so forth. And I got in. At first for a total period of 12 months, which of course is nothing at all; that's just enough for one competition season.

And then came the subsequent years, where a top result at the European Championships, World Championships, or World Cup—which could also be in the team ranking—was required each time to have the season extended again. In hindsight, I was lucky, certainly due to the sporting successes, but also because of people who wanted to support me, who saw that it really is worthy of funding even though it's not an Olympic sport. Then, I was kept in this sports funding system for 10 years.

was. Being "supported" means that you basically earned your money as a time soldier. So, the Bundeswehr essentially paid you and you were allowed to go flying. Exactly. To put it very simply. Very

to put it simply, if you're in the sports promotion group, you're recognized as an elite athlete

...classified by the Federal Republic of Germany and is there to represent the country on an international level. That's the system behind it, to put it loosely. And almost everyone,

almost everyone, if you look at the Winter Olympics, for example, is either in the sports promotion group of most athletes—this exists in other countries too, like Austria, it's exactly the same, a very similar system. And luckily, luckily, something like that exists.

Well, as you said yourself, there were about five or six PWC competitions a year back then. Then you probably had the German Championship, which you won four times, but then those were flown out or something. The EC, you came in third once. I think that was two years before your PWC overall victory and stuff like that. But what do you do as a soldier-athlete with sports promotion in between? Did you always have time off and were told to go fly because the boy has to train, or how did that work?

During the time I was active as a competition pilot, all the competition platforms except for the European Championships and the World Championships were absolutely,

so extensive as it is currently. The German Championship was also composed of several competitions; the German Open was sort of the finale, but the German Champion wasn't the winner of the German Open back then, but rather the winner of the competitions, for example at the Berchtesgaden Open, Barbie Open, and whatever else there was, with the German Open as the finale. There were, I can't say off the top of my head right now, but immensely many competition days that were necessary if you flew the overall World Cup, flew the German Championship, and then either a European Championship or a World Championship in the same year—a lot really came together.

And of course, I also did private flights for myself during the times when people did that. However, to be completely honest, when it came to that, I was certainly a bit of a training slacker regarding paragliding, and I spent more time on my road bike, doing other things there that I simply enjoyed. There are pilots who are significantly, significantly more hardworking when it comes to training alongside the competition or also cross-country flying on its own alongside the competition. It always did me good to also do other things, like flying—we were actually exclusively flying through the competitions—to do other things as well.

Well, in many other sports, there's, yeah, the coach for this and that, and they set up a great training program for them. How was it for you? Did you just go flying and say, I'm training for myself, or did you have someone who coached you a bit anyway, or did you at least have to have someone on paper who did that so it looked a certain way?

Well, at that time, there was the head of the German national team through the DHV, Stefan Mast. So, it wasn't just a name on paper; he was actually there, but he wasn't involved in the active training. And I also realized for myself that private flying doesn't make much sense in terms of progressing as a competition pilot.

Because it's a completely different style of flying, because you don't say, "I have to accelerate this much" or "I really want to fly back there even though I don't know if I can get back up," but that's the point, I have to go there; instead, you naturally say, "I'll choose the safe line so that I can keep moving forward here."

Yes, that is exactly the difference between the cross-country flight style or competition cross-country flying, which is that of course, when you're out there with other pilots,

so many pilots fly so incredibly well, you have to make sure that you generally keep at it, regardless of that, because flying like that is really difficult or a great achievement on an international level. And for myself, I realized that the best training is competition flying. So, going to many competitions, that is certainly still the case today. So anyone who doesn't take the path of the competition pilot isn't reaching their full potential, because you don't learn to fly fast and efficiently anywhere else as well as...

...as in the competition pilot. Now let's go back to the PWC. You said, okay, in 2003 you won and with that victory, at least as I understood it, you lost a bit of that primary motivation because you say you'd actually already reached your main goal. And then it trickled out, but was it still hard for you to basically give up such a sponsorship or pull yourself out of it, because you say it was perhaps a very pleasant life to say, I'm funded and can go flying.

That was a comfortable life, of course, and looking back, it could hardly have gone any better, that has to be said clearly. But of course, there is also a pressure you feel during that time, especially as a young athlete. So, I stopped being a competition pilot at an age when most people are just starting to do paragliding competition sports, and it always felt like a lot of pressure to me personally to have to deliver these results. At times, you don't even fly your authentic flying style anymore, but rather a more tactical flying style to be able to achieve or deliver the results more securely.

Because especially when you're in a system, a sports funding system, where nobody knows anything about paragliding competition, then at some point only results really count, and not the conversation like, "Oh yeah, bad luck with the shading," that just doesn't interest them there. For me, it was like after my overall competition win, the sports funding group—the system I always wanted to get into, to stay in for funding—made an offer exactly at that point after the overall competition win, when I signaled, "Okay, it fits, I've reached my biggest goal, I think I'll stop with competition pilot now," they made an offer.

Hey, I'm staying with it for two more years, I think we're talking about ten years, so I'll stay with it for a total of two more years as a competition pilot, and then I'll also be supported after my active time so that I can start my studies. And at that moment, it seemed logical to me to stop being a competition pilot in order to study. Well, as it is, of course, you can tinker with your own brain and get your motivation back on track, but if motivation doesn't really come from deep within, then it's a bit artificial—that's really how it was for me.

I motivated myself the following year with this overall World Cup win—I don't even know if anyone has managed to repeat that yet. That was my goal. And the following year, it looked really good; I arrived at the overall—well, at the final of the overall World Cup—as second, within absolute reach of first place. And that was a competition where a lot of things, of course, if I say they went wrong, always had to do with my own mistakes, but I remember exactly where it was: in Mexico. And that was a competition where, well, for Kriegel Maurer, a lot of things just didn't work out.

And then I finished this overall World Cup in fourth place, which generally isn't bad. It's a good ranking, but of course, it wasn't at all what I had motivated myself for this season. And then I really felt it, then it came, it became obvious to me personally—no, I want, I want something else, I want something new. Even though I still generally enjoyed it and saw the point in it, I just experienced more and more of what bothers me, personally, about the effort and the things I just mentioned earlier.

Yes, and then of course I still owed an account to this sports funding system. And we agreed that, okay, I can reduce the international part, but nationally I definitely have to fly the German Championship again. And there, I was able to do that again, definitely. Yes,

That was 2004, 2005, 2006. Exactly, those

...series then. Won the series again. Exactly, exactly, won it. And I remember exactly when I last competed in the German Championship, it must have been in Oberstdorf, I really said, okay, to my... to my... well, we're not talking exclusively about competitors in the air, of course, but friendships have formed there, and many acquaintances. When I said I was going to stop now, many people didn't believe it because the athletic performance was there. There was no necessity to stop. And it's always hard to say what would have been, how much longer it would have been possible. Generally, you can see in competition flying that you can also deliver good, well, from a top-level sports perspective, good performances, top performances, at an older age.

Yes, but for me, it was good, it was the right time, the absolutely necessary time to step back and reorient myself, and yet I look back at that time with a smile more than ever, and probably with the knowledge I have now, I wouldn't have made the exit quite so consistently in hindsight, but would have simply reduced it. I would have said, okay, you just do a quarter of the competitions per year, and without the pressure to have to deliver results, which is probably better anyway.

Well, some of your teammates back then are still flying with the national team today, like Pepe Malecki, Thorsten Siegel—I don't know if Uli Prinz was already there during your time.

Uli was, was, well, exactly in that transition phase, Uli actually got into the competition pilot. The

they're already part of the old guard, but they're still flying along very successfully. When you look at them, you sometimes feel—no, that might be a harsh word—but something like that, does it ever tempt you to say, I'd like to measure myself against them again? Of course, there's

there's still a, a, a, yeah, a spotter in me, and a spotter wants to, wants to compare, wants to, wants to, wants to measure himself. But in, I think in, in, a real athlete also simply recognizes

certain life phases and situations, and that's why I don't look at it with envy, because I can feel, I mean, the feeling that is certainly present there; I know these feelings of absolute joy, tension, focus, concentration, but also the frustration that can also be present in a competition pilot. Those are very close together. It's often just a few seconds where you go from the feeling, oh, I'm doing well, doing great and super well-positioned, to, oh boy, now I have to see if I can even get across the finish line. So, these whole emotional states, these moods, are familiar to me. That's why it's not just, I mean, not envy at all,

rather general respect for what is achieved by all those who do it, especially at this level with that enthusiasm. You also have to imagine that a large, the largest part of the pilots bring in a lot of money to be able to do it, to get to the competition sites, and in some cases even have to purchase the equipment themselves. And there we are already talking about a performance that is, in any case, professional top-level, but the funding is, of course, like that of amateurs.

You mentioned earlier that with the end of your competition career, your interest in hike and fly and things like that started to grow. Why did you actually never take part in the Red Bull X Alps, which would also be a competition where you could have really combined both, given your interest in hike and fly and your experience as a very seasoned competition pilot? You would probably have been quite good at it too. And Alex Hofer won the Red Bull X Alps there, and he was once a major competitor of yours, also in the PWC.

Yes, one name that definitely has to be mentioned is Alex Hofer. Of course, he was an outstanding pilot during my active competition time, and the X Alps would have been a great opportunity—back then, during the competition years, I actually still had quite good fitness from road cycling and those kinds of things. But it actually came right at the beginning of the X Alps, and the first one was won by Kaspar Henni, the Caspi, who was a world-class pilot and a great person.

That was 2003, so also the year when you

thought thought

...with up to 20 kilos on their backs at times.

I mean, it's insane what they were lugging around and yet they were still moving fast and really flying those distances quickly. And that was the X Alps; back then, it wasn't exactly clear what would happen to this event or what kind of status it would actually get. No one knew back then that it would get the kind of status the X Alps has now. And it was exactly during the time when I'd actually had, well, enough of competitive sports, because competition always has a certain, a special flair. It's not always just peace and harmony; sometimes there's real tension in the air, and I'd simply had enough. I wanted to turn over a new leaf, to reorient myself, and during that time...

then X Alps really gained momentum and more and more pilots switched over or did both, the World Cup as well as X Alps. Alex Hofer, Helmut Eichholz, just to name a few, and then there's Alex Hofer, of course, who...

due to an injury during X Alps training, which resulted in him completely quitting as a competition pilot afterwards, is of course a shame, because he certainly would have been very interesting and influential at some X Alps events.

I'd like to suggest we talk a bit more about Hike and Fly later. Before that, I want to jump back a bit. There's a DHV thermals film, or there's this teaser for the thermals film, where you can see yourself flying and you say, yeah, I'm Achilleus and I've been flying since 1988.

You were born in 1978. That means you were ten years old when you say you've been flying since 1990. You started flying at ten. How is that even possible? In Germany, you're actually not allowed to start training for your license until you're 14, and you can only take the test at 16. How did you get into flying at the age of ten?

Back then, it was even the case that you weren't allowed to start flying until you were 16. Luckily, it's 14 now. And my father started glider flying in 1987. So it was really right at the very beginning when it took off in Germany. The French had it in '85, '86 with mostly parachute equipment, and with hardly any better gear, the sport equipment came over to Germany around '87. And my father started just that year, and I was probably such an annoying kid who wanted to try it too, and he let me try it out on a practice slope. I think I actually did pretty well.

And I don't know if it was more of a test of courage from my father's side, but he had me fly off the mountain in Andesburg very quickly—I was ten and a half years old back then. I just really enjoyed it; I wasn't scared, even without radio support, and I hit the landing field well. Then came another flight, a completely independent flight in Montafon from Hochjoch, Schwunz. Yeah, and then I think my father had the problem: okay, the test of courage was successful, but... how does he keep you on the ground now? Exactly, exactly, exactly. So now, of course, I...

at that age, I didn't start flying regularly. It was always more like, "Can I go again...?" But at that age, I was just completely fascinated by the sport.

That means, from a legal standpoint, you were always flying black, or your father always let you fly black.

Yeah, exactly, that was really illegal. And of course, I'm incredibly grateful to him because he must have worried a lot. And then at 13, I was at a World Cup for the first time, so to speak, in Spain in the Pyrenees. But of course, not in the competition, just tagging along. So I already had some interest, and the proximity to the competition pilots shaped me very strongly, because for me at that age, those were my heroes. There were several pilots I really looked up to massively and wanted to be like. For example?

Robby Wittel, Uli Wiesmeier, Toni Bender, of course. Those were the kinds of names you looked up to and wanted to emulate.

How did they react to a 13-year-old showing up and saying, "I want to tag along a bit"? Did they take you under their wing somehow? Or did they just laugh at you? How did you feel as a kid back then?

There were, of course, all different types of people. And I can understand it from today's perspective, if a kid like that shows up, that you might not even notice it at first or maybe you don't really like it that, that a maybe,

Yeah, mentally, you also have to have a certain level of maturity for the thing.

But there were also people who promoted it and supported it. Take Toni Bender, for example, I remember it very clearly; he never, even when I also...

...got better and noticed, "Oh, now we're even moving into the area of generational change," I never had the feeling with some pilots, like with Toni Bender, that things were being blocked; instead, tips were actually given and they were looked after in a benevolent way.

And did your... I mean, did your father fly with you there and take you along because of that, or how did you get to the PWC or then to Spain at 13?

Other participants took me along. My father certainly helped organize it back then so that I could go along. But no, because of the start of competition flying or the search for proximity to the competition pilot, my father's and my flying paths practically diverged, because they are simply different types of flying.

He wasn't performance-oriented at all; he just wanted to glide down, right?

In the beginning, the performance orientation in paragliding was shaped by the fact that if you could stay up with your paraglider for even half an hour, that was already insane. That was celebrated, or the first urban area overflight. But through rapid development, cross-country flying and timed cross-country racing emerged. And from that point on, I think elite sports essentially decoupled from recreational sports.

Now you just said that as a child, you might not have had that kind of mental maturity yet—so probably not the sense of the risk you were taking and all that. How much of that would you say you had back then? Or to what extent was it naive of your father to actually let you take off into the air already?

So letting me into the air wasn't naive at all, because I spent an incredible amount of time on the topic of ground handling and was able to gain a lot of confidence with the paraglider because of that. And I think that was also the reason—my playing around as a child with the glider on the ground, hour-long landings, ground handling—I think that's the reason why I, as a competition pilot or even in paragliding in general, have never had an accident, never had to deploy a rescue parachute, and I can't remember a single significant crash. And I think, in your entire flying career, in your entire time flying, even as a competition pilot. And I believe it's my luck that I was able to familiarize myself with the paraglider so early, with the handling.

in a playful way. And that flying, the actual flying, only came later or gained its significance—that being actually in the air.

That means you basically learned flying as a physical sensation and not from your head—like, what do I have to do here?—but you actually learned it for yourself, probably like how you learn to walk, where you pull something somewhere and realize, "Oh, that's better, that's bad," or "Oh, then that happens," and somehow that transfers into your muscle memory.

Exactly, that developed during a time when ground handling wasn't really a topic at all. I won't say it was mocked, but it wasn't really looked at much. Fortunately, the topic now holds a very high priority.

And yes, because of that, I had a lot of confidence in glider control as a competition pilot very early on, but of course, I also made a crazy amount of careless and tactical mistakes at the beginning. And that's the point I was making earlier about the mental side, that you...

...have the necessary self-confidence, but also know exactly when it's necessary to reduce speed a bit. You need that, you need that in general. It's an experience-based sport. That's also the reason why many pilots can deliver such incredibly good performances for so long. And from that perspective, I also had to go through the learning process, like everyone at the beginning. It really started with competitive flying for me around my sixteenth or seventeenth year.

Did you ever actually go back to the flight school? You already knew how to do everything.

Yes, I was actually in the flight school and, in that sense, he supported me back then so that I was allowed to do the B license right away with the A license, because they also wanted me to be able to participate in the competition. And that was a great concession at the time. But I was actually in the flight school, and I actually did my licenses and exams in a completely normal way

have to do. And yeah, I mean, I know the path at the flight school firsthand as a student, yeah, as a participant.

Well, looking at the training, I think it's a bit different in the Alps. I'm from Bonn, and when I look at what kind of people are learning paragliding in our region, they are very often 40, if not even 50 plus, but that would actually be a completely wrong age to learn it. Sure, you can learn it, but developing that very intuitive flying style will probably be very, very difficult at that age. How do you see that?

The age you just mentioned is certainly the primary age for paragliding. I'd say roughly 40 to 60. That is also the main age group here at my paragliding school. And I firmly believe that paragliding can be learned well in all age groups. Of course, someone younger than 20 can always learn more easily and quickly. But that's not always, always, always the case, because paragliding, especially in the learning phase, involves an insane amount of understanding on one hand—meaning experience that only comes with time—but also a lot of body language and the area of, for example, how much force I apply when paragliding to the brake and control lines?

How do I control the paraglider using my entire body movement? I don't think enough attention is paid to that. When the wind is blowing a bit nicer and I have the opportunity, once my students have the glider over them during the stabilization phase of ground handling, you notice how much force—almost too much force—nearly all paragliders, even those with A and B licenses, use to handle their glider. Arms that are too tense, a shoulder area that's too tense, and because of that, the gliders are often controlled too dynamically, or, yeah, I often call them robot-like movements, or you just don't feel the glider the way you could.

When someone in the training or personal coaching area really gets in touch with the pilot and can give individual feedback on body language and posture—like, "Hey, try positioning yourself more like this"—then certain movements that cause turbulence simply don't happen anymore, and that's already a huge amount of work done. And I've found that it's not actually that important how old you are, whether you're 30 or 60; what matters more is your trainer. I now mostly call myself a flight instructor out of habit, but we're actually more like trainers.

It's simply important to be open to one another and to be able to accept the philosophy of flying that a certain trainer has. Or, if you can't accept it, to find someone whose philosophy you like better.

What's the difference between a teacher and a trainer for you? I...

I believe a teacher conveys more of the DHV—or in other countries, like Austria and Switzerland, they call them something else, the associations—but basically the standard teaching doctrine, and prepares the student for the exam. And that is also necessary, we do that too, I do it too. But that alone isn't enough. So, at the latest during advanced courses, but ideally even before that during training, and best of all in the basic course, you have to point out individual patterns. You have to recognize when, when the arm position is, when it's steered further in the direction where the arms pull away from the risers and you don't correct it, then the pilot will have difficulties at the latest when thermalling.

And to approach it that way, to recognize an individual pattern and give tips. For you, it's best if you take the position with your arms and the control lines in your hands. That's often where you break away from pure doctrine. And I think that's when you become the trainer.

So, pure doctrine would be, for example, saying you have to brake with your shoulders high. But depending on how large someone is built, for instance, the shoulders are naturally at different heights relative to the glider. And then, you'd want to say that this doctrine of "shoulders high" doesn't apply in that spot, but rather you would approach everyone individually and say, for you, the shoulder is at chest height, and for you, it's at chin height, or something like that. Yes,

and of course, as you already mentioned, everyone has a different body build. And it's good to follow the standard teaching. It is absolutely justified, but you also have to approach it more individually with factors like the ones you just mentioned. But the main thing that I'm noticing more and more is really body tension—unnecessary body tension—where the basic tension caused by the nervousness everyone has affects exactly the wrong part of the body for most paragliders, namely the arms. And if they are cramped, if the muscle tension is too high, from my point of view, there is no situation in paragliding where that is beneficial; rather, it's harmful.

Whether it concerns the student on the practice slope, the ground handling, the person doing ground handling in the advanced course or for themselves, the cross-country pilot, the thermal pilot, or the aerobatic pilot. I believe it's important everywhere to have a certain fluidity in the arms and in the muscle tension. This allows you to control the paraglider much more precisely. And that's what many people lack. Even during the inflation and then the subsequent errors of braking, stabilizing the glider, bringing some calm first. And the factors in getting calm while paragliding clearly have to do with things like body language and muscle tension.

That means controlling and handling the paraglider involves a lot for you—I'll just put it this way—working mainly with a body axis or something like that. And your arms are then just small tools for that purpose, so to speak.

These are crucial factors. So, anyone learning to fly with me also learns to use the brake noticeably. The number of centimeters, how far you pull the brake, that's important. Also, really conveying to the paraglider, hey, what do I want? I'm not talking about becoming passive with your arms, quite the opposite. But exactly these points of the body axis—how do I have to, how should I stand during the launch, during the inflation in the respective phases? Where do the hands actually belong? Of course, there are different opinions on that. But when you see in practice how most paragliders handle things at the launch site, they often aren't even aware of where their hands actually are.

And also when it comes to thermals flying, if you say "pull the brake up to shoulder height" and they look at it, they are 100% sure they are at shoulder height, but they might be at ear height, forehead height, or the other person might be at chest height. So just making yourself aware of how important it is to know, okay, what height am I at? But of course, much more importantly, what does that mean for my glider, for the respective brake pressure? And there is certainly still a lot to do in those areas to increase flight safety, especially for those who don't fly that much during the year.

I'll come back to training in a moment. I want to briefly highlight the intermediate step in your life path again. You studied, and you studied industrial psychology. That's a degree that, at first glance, doesn't have anything to do with paragliding or anything like that. Others who fly a lot say, "I'm studying aerospace engineering" or something like that. Did you consciously choose a degree where you thought, maybe I'll do something with this that has nothing to do with flying anymore? Like a possible change of direction, an exit strategy, or something?

Actually, the idea at the beginning was that I wanted to look into an area that would subsequently have nothing to do with flying. To go into the fields of business psychology professionally. The psychological field has always interested me, of course, including sports psychology,

and during my studies, I actually realized that I missed the flying scene. And then the idea of moving into the business sector, maybe with a suit and tie, seemed increasingly absurd to me and just not authentic, not like me at all. And at some point it became clear to me: I want to share these experiences based on the time I've already spent flying in general, but also as a competition pilot—this mix—and also because of the advanced training I already gave during my active competition years. I mean, for years I also gave thermals and cross-country seminars there as a World Cup pilot.

I want to pass on this experience. And then towards the end of my studies, I realized, okay, no, it would be a shame if I didn't try it with my own paragliding school.

Did you take away anything central from this study that you'd say helps you now in your work with the paraglider school?

There were certainly some segments that helped me, even though I can't name any specific ones right now. For the current work in the paragliding school with everything that goes along with it—from Day 1 basic courses to advanced training, personnel training, accompanied cross-country flights on a larger scale, as we offer the entire spectrum at all levels—I think it's simply the mix of all those points. A very essential part is simply the experience from, over the last 30 years of paragliding,

competition pilot,

A psychology degree, so not psychology in the general sense, but this industrial-organizational psychology. But as for the degree, I wouldn't put too much stock in its significance. It's more about the experience from

...flying. Now, in industrial psychology, the word psychology is included, and you just mentioned psychologist. To what extent does a paraglider instructor, as you call it, also have to be a psychologist?

I think that factor is really important on the coach's side—being empathetic and also knowing what the individual athlete is like. What do they need? What kind of approach do they need? Is it the type of person you have to leave alone at certain moments? Or is it about motivating them, or maybe even being a bit harder on one or another verbally at times to give them a wake-up call? All those factors can be there. And it's damn important to have a human intuition, which some people probably just have and others don't, but also to have psychological know-how. And then, I believe, you can give the athlete, the sportsman, things that will benefit them in life in general, but of course also in decisive situations.

...who are tactically oriented. And if you make decisions out of stress, or from a feeling of stress, you rarely make the right ones. Being able to get into those mental areas—having a certain level of composure, sobriety, and focus—brings an incredible amount. You can see that with Kriegel and his coach or supporter. In that area, they certainly don't just work well together on organizational matters, but also on a mental level.

You still do classic paragliding courses where you have groups. There you might have ten different characters you always have to deal with, who are all supposed to do roughly the same thing. And then you also do these personal trainings where you say someone can book me or another trainer from my school. And then I focus on that one person and go for a day, or however long they book you for, for whatever reason. I then really work with them. If you compare it like that, would you actually say that a personal training is like paragliding training to the power of ten, because you can always be so much closer to that person?

Yes, I'm glad that personal training is being accepted and is becoming increasingly popular. There is no more sensible way to become proficient in the respective areas as quickly as possible, if the point I mentioned earlier is correct. That is, you find a way to connect with each other so that you can engage with one another in terms of flight style and specific points.

For example, in my case, it's just that from my perspective—and that's just my point of view—I can recognize why someone is struggling with things like pulling back, or why thermals flying isn't working out, or tactical decisions during cross-country flying. And from my perspective, I can convey the points on what that person can do and train to get successes very quickly, or to be able to realize safety-relevant things. Like making sure the glider doesn't overshoot so much during takeoff; those are often very, very down-to-earth topics. And it's really great to see how much progress is made within the shortest amount of time.

And that's the nature of the thing: if you're supervising 10 participants, you have less time for the individual than in one-on-one training. And I can only recommend this to anyone who, if they notice they want to progress and have very specific topics, have someone look over them who can tell them very concretely, "these are the aspects." And that's also the case with good personal training—good training in my view isn't a flood of information, but very specific instructions. This movement right here initiates that, and that's why your glider does that two seconds later.

And then you make great progress. Because you can address the root cause and suddenly notice that the following issues you had are gone. Especially with topics like ground handling or pulling back, you often see incredibly great results in just 2 or 3 hours. The same goes for thermals. Cross-country flying is of course a bit more complex in that regard, but even there, you very often see tactical things where you can give pilots very clear tips; you recognize, okay, based on this hesitant flying there or that flying too fast there, you recognize patterns in the repetition where you can take someone by the hand and say, hey, try it like this.

Are there also people who come to you who don't do paragliding yet and say, "Look, I don't want a group course, I want a personal trainer from the very beginning to teach me personally," and do those people make faster progress at the start? Or does it show that even with a group—where you might say it takes longer in terms of time—it also takes the brain to coordinate the body and brain for all those movements, and it takes time to learn that and for it to settle in the brain? What's your experience there? At the beginning, there are

actually, inquiries in that area

And we've also had days where participants did it exactly like that at the beginning with personal training, and of course, it's great if you can go over it one-on-one from the start, although I believe a good basic course is completely sufficient at the beginning to recognize basic patterns. A good trainer can recognize, "Aha, it's going in this direction, here it's going in that direction," and tries to name it even during the basic course, and then the right time would be when you notice, okay, that you're addressing it—if someone has already been in personal training for these points and patterns to recognize, like the arm position issue, etc., then training together again for half a day or two hours would be a good time.

But one-on-one training from the very beginning isn't strictly necessary. Just getting started, getting to know each other on the slope, and then making adjustments is perfectly fine, but don't wait too long. Because as always, once you've gotten used to something, it's two or three times harder to eliminate the sources of error again.

That means the ideal would be to do a basic course, then do a one-off error elimination course as personal training and say, "Okay, now I can move forward." Yeah, so in that...

That would be really good in the basic course area, or in the advanced training area, or just after getting the A-license. It's well known that many pilots reach their highest level on the day of the exam when they get their A-license. And I think it's perfectly clear to everyone that's not enough. It's not enough. It's just a license that allows you to fly legally. But you clearly have to keep training. Every pilot owes it to themselves to have someone check in on them again and again. And ideally, by people who can actually recognize it—not just people who think they can, but who can always identify safety-relevant issues. That is my top priority.

And then there's a long gap. And then we get to the refinements, whether it's about style or also about more efficient paragliding, to be able to paraglide better. But we really still have enough to do. You can see that at busy launch sites, to discuss things like being able to take off safely, getting into the air safely, getting into the air with little stress. That is also one of my main personal concerns, that you can notice at the launch site, okay, an absolute majority knows what they're doing. And even if something doesn't go so well with the inflation, that you don't immediately hit the red zone in terms of stress level, but instead calmly set it down again and re-inflate.

Just those things alone can be a factor. Paragliders know what the atmosphere feels like at busy launch sites. Very stressed. One aborted launch after another, and the others get even more stressed. And the spiral turns into the negative zone.

You just mentioned stylistics. To what extent does paragliding have to do with aesthetics for you?

A lot. Personally, I take my hat off, regardless of the sport. When I personally see someone as stylish, I don't mean the overstyled clothing at all, but rather this athletic, delicate movement. And paragliding is a sport that has a lot to do with elegance and delicate movements for me. And not with this powerful yanking and forcing the glider forward through violence or strength to dictate who's in charge here, but it's a game with each other. One, in

Ideally, a single unit. The paraglider and the pilot. The pilot feels what kind of air mass the glider is announcing, and the glider up there also knows what the pilot wants from it. And paragliding is one of the most photogenic and amazing sports. From that perspective, I look at pilots who are very sensitive and elegant in their movements much...

...prefer. Would you also always say that those who look so sensitive are then also automatically, as a rule, the better pilots?

That depends on what we're looking at, of course. If we're just looking at result lists, then it's certainly possible that a tactically and strategically very savvy pilot can achieve incredibly good results. But they still don't have that last little bit of glider feeling when deploying the glider, when taking off, or even in extreme situations. And for me, that's part of it. I think the best pilots also cover this area. This training to understand the glider well, to feel it well. And then it happens—the risk of accidents is significantly lower.

And then, in your flying career, you have significantly fewer collapses. Significantly less need to have to think about a potential rescue throw or something like that. Of course, I would still do it if it were necessary. But maybe it never even gets to that point. So it's absolutely great that pilots take and attend all sorts of advanced courses and also SIV training. Very important. But to avoid this area altogether, to get to the situation at all to know what I have to do if the glider is already spinning away in a spiral, if we have a massive collapse with a hang-up.

Avoiding that should be the primary premise of paragliding. I think that should be the biggest ambition, simply to have beautiful experiences when you go flying. That's what it's about for me now. Flying, gathering beautiful experiences. So anyone who has a significant number of collapses per season should just think, hey, what can I do to reduce that, to be safer out there? And not just accept it and maybe even think, yeah, that's just part of it. No, it's not.

Your flight school is called Freiraum. Why did you choose that name?

chosen? At the beginning, I mean, I definitely wanted a name that didn't have anything directly to do with paragliding. And I thought about, if someone clicks on my flight school, about a paraglider image that said, click into your free space. That was the idea behind it. We had a good, a good paragliding graphic designer from the start who also advised us on that. Yes, and the name Freiraum was born very quickly as a company name. And I'm happy about that. I mean, I still like Freiraum very much even after the tenth year we've been around now.

And I think it was well chosen.

Does flying make you free?

Yes, well, paragliding is the epitome of freedom for me. There is no other sport, even after over 30 years of paragliding, where it's still like that. So when I take off myself, there's nothing there except the moment in the air. No everyday issues, no sifting through any little problems you might have, but just being there in that moment, enjoying the thing. Of course, only when the flight conditions are appropriate. So that's also clear, not every air mass is a pleasure, it can be demanding at times. But paragliding is freedom for me and clearly a fascination and the most beautiful thing you can do.

So the combination of hike and fly is just brilliant.

Hiking up the mountain in a sporty, enjoyable way and then rewarding yourself with the flight. I think that's great.

You are one of the protagonists in an educational film by the DHV. It's about thermal flying. Two hang gliders and two paragliders. Burki is still there, Burkhard Martens and you. Try to explain in brief what makes good thermal flying.

Good thermals flying happens when you understand how to feel the air. That is, being able to recognize beforehand whether a glider is going to pull into the air mass—meaning it's going to accelerate—even though you aren't actively changing anything on the brakes. Or whether an air mass is more expansive, wanting to push you away, or the glider, wanting to stand up more. That you have to see, oh okay, I need to let out the glider and the brakes more first just to get into the air mass. So this basic intuition is already important. Because only then can I, with my brakes...

work with feeling, releasing a bit or braking a bit more to keep the glider almost vertical above us. If we don't do that, we get these upright moments from the glider. The pitching moments or the rolling moments. If they are present, they can always be there in turbulent air for every pilot. But the less they are present, the smoother a flight style can be.

And if we are then also able to stay in the right place, there are good methods to clarify where you can stay during a training session; then, under radio instruction, you can learn incredibly quickly what the correct cross-axis tilt is. What is roughly—it's not carved in stone exactly on the ridge, but roughly—a good cross-axis tilt that allows you to make good progress and work well in the most diverse thermal sources. And that brings us back to the topic of body language. How do I do the weight shift? That is also often done incorrectly. Weight shift in short-work. How do I do the weight shift? What significance does the inside brake have?

And especially the significance of the outside brake, which is actually rarely static in one place, but rather almost always in motion to compensate for the different air masses. And then thermals flying becomes a very fluid thing, which usually goes along with slightly higher turn speeds, as is often seen out there.

That also means you actually bank tighter, or ideally, you would bank tighter than many people out there. Yes,

exactly. The moment you have a very flat, thermal-centered style, that's of course good for very large-scale thermal sources, for calm thermals. But when do we actually have those? Thermals are often more impulsive, like individual puffs going up somewhere. And for that, we need a certain higher bank speed—not exaggerated, just a bit more bank angle—to be able to counteract an air mass that comes in from below with better lift. By counteract, I don't mean a struggle, but also not just completely surrendering to the air mass. And then the flight style becomes uneven. Then the glider rights itself again, you have to re-initiate the turn, you fall out of the thermal again, have to laboriously fly back in, and of course, that also leads to the significant

more demanding flight than the one who can simply fly their circles in the thermals more often. And basically, that's not a huge science; it's just important to have heard certain tips, ideally related to your own flying style, and then you'll make progress quickly.

You just said that many people make mistakes with weight shifting. What is the main mistake when it comes to weight shifting?

A lot of people think weight shift means leaning your upper body way out, and you should pay attention to that in the future with paragliders, in thermals, and in circles in general—the body hangs way out to the side on the risers. That is, of course, a weight shift, but it's a terrible starting position because, first of all, you have to travel unnecessarily long distances to get back to the other side, and you're not at all able to make fine adjustments. If you keep your upper body more between the risers during weight shift and start the turn—basically by flying with slight braking on both sides—you have contact with your glider.

and it starts with turning your head into the turn, so the head goes into the turn, then for point one we already have the view—is there anyone there at all? Many people just look straight ahead in a thermal circle and are then surprised when someone is suddenly in front of them. So, with the head into the turn, if I want to turn left in a left turn, the head goes left, the right shoulder already moves slightly into the turn, the sternum also points in the direction I want to go, and only then does the pelvis follow slightly; the hip also makes a rotation like that. Then it's a weight shift that isn't very noticeable from the outside, but is much more efficient, especially for the fine adjustments that we certainly have to make in every second or third thermal circle.

To get some cross-perception back, I just need to turn the right shoulder back slightly again and I immediately have less intensity in the weight shift. Yes, these are the kinds of things where a lot can be done to fly a paraglider more sensitively, more delicately, and with more style. That

means that things like crossing your legs and stuff like that would actually be completely counterproductive from your perspective, precisely because you block yourself at that point and the leg doesn't come back down that quickly. Yeah, exactly. If I, for whatever reason, have to compensate briefly because I get a hit on the other side or something. You mean the thigh.

over the other, really? Exactly. So my legs, I mean my feet, are often over each other in the seated harness, not in the lie-back harness, of course. But exactly. And that is also a form of weight shift, obviously, throwing yourself in like that, one thigh over the other. And that works too. You've shifted your weight, but then you're also on that side with your entire weight. And what happens then if suddenly, if the lift from a 2 m thermal or 3 m thermal tube briefly weakens? The chance of the glider boring deeper into the turn is huge, because I'm on the inside of the turn with my full weight, but the pressure on the left side decreases because the lift from the air mass is less.

And suddenly I'm surprised by a turn that's getting too steep and I can't counteract it well. So, from my point of view, thermals or weight shifting isn't about making impulsive, violent movements with the glider, but rather about maintaining a bank angle while also being able to fine-tune it. And that means repeatedly taking off some pressure on the inside of the turn for a brief moment, only to be over on the other side again. It's a constant game of playing and readjusting. And then paragliding also becomes exhausting over time, because you are still dealing with a certain

body tension in certain areas, but not in the arms, not in the upper body area, the

constantly controls the paraglider. That brings us back to the body axis, which is actually the decisive factor there. There are some people who always say that you can actually, once you've set them up correctly, not if it's constantly rising turbulently, then it's immediately gone or something. But if you have reasonably orderly thermals, a paraglider is basically built in such a way that it can re-center itself wonderfully. You wouldn't have to do anything at all. Do you work in that direction as well, or is that something where you'd say, no, I haven't experienced that myself yet? I'm the one who actually mainly controls it.

So I

can do that

completely follow, letting the paraglider show the area where there might be better lift in the zone we're currently in. So he pulls somewhere. In that case, I'll obviously let my glider fly there and test the area out too. But then, in the further course, I do think it's important to actively fly the paraglider with slightly tighter turn radii rather than frequently too wide ones. Especially when flying in the mountains, very many people frequently fly out of the thermals because the turn radii are simply too large.

The prevailing opinion in DRV training often says that tight circles frequently risk a collapse, or at least something like that. But that's more of something you'd say is a piloting error that can be corrected.

Yes. That brings us back to the example of weight shift we just discussed. If I, let's say, roughly mess around with my glider and I've found a lateral tilt, but I'm a pilot who perhaps controls the glider very much via the inside brake—so if I'm flying clockwise, the right brake—and I notice that the glider, that we in that thermal area, that a stronger lift is reaching us. Then that first reaches the lower wing, so always the inside of the turn. Now you want to bring the glider back into a neutral position. And in some cases, we have to let that happen. There are situations where it's necessary to restart the circle.

And that's where many people simply make the mistake. They want to hold this tight turn radius no matter what. And in that case, you have exactly two options.

...throw your foot over, as just mentioned regarding weight shift, but of course also eventually follow up with the inside brake. And in that case, paragliders are naturally prone to stalling relatively quickly. And then we're back exactly at the point of flight technique. If I'm a pilot who is performing weight shift, as just discussed, then I have no chance of really staying in there vehemently with the weight; instead, it will briefly bring me into a neutral position. Since I'm currently flying as a pilot who varies the turn radii very much using the outside brake and doesn't follow up with the inside brake, I'm far away from a stall. I'm briefly back in a straight glide for a second or two and then start the circle again.

That's a safe flying style. And we don't need to worry about...

stall. That means you basically set a bank angle and lock your inside brake largely at that position and say, I don't have to pull any deeper, but I can either release the outside brake to make the radius tighter or set it steeper again. Or it's just the case that the thermals are so strong, then I just correct it a bit until it works again and then I continue to center it there.

Exactly. So the turn radii are set when I feel like I'm really in the right spot at the moment, and otherwise, they're adjusted. And it's like, when you watch very experienced pilots in a thermal area, it's really interesting how often they adjust. And you also notice the wind speed—the wind generally gets stronger for us in paragliding. So, in my view, those thermically good days with really little wind are clearly becoming less common. And accordingly, it's even more important to understand where the wind is actually coming from, where I should be staying in the thermals, and how I should re-center so that I don't regularly

to be pushed out of the thermals. And accordingly, the topic of weight shift and play on the outside brake is important, on one hand, to be able to maintain the curve radii with consistently steady climb rates, but also to be ready to occasionally hold your ground against the wind a bit and restart the circles.

Are there situations where you shift your weight to the outside?

Yes, the weight, or rather in my case it's the outside, then with my technique, when I practically just take the shoulder back again and sit neutrally into the core, and also bring the pelvis back into a neutral position a bit. I do that when I

...maybe a bit too lazy to work with the outside brake all the time. It's actually exactly the same, pretty much the same effect, whether I pull more on the outside brake or not. I do that at the moment I notice that the glider wants to increase its bank. So, where I've found my positions and I notice the glider—that's usually the case when the lift briefly becomes a bit weaker. Or if we get to the section when centering into the tailwind, where the glider wants to lower the leading edge a bit, where the outside wing starts to want to accelerate towards the ground with the leading edge; we can control that via the outside brake or simply by putting a bit more weight on the outside brake for a short moment.

But that's a very brief moment, and then we're already back into shifting our weight in the direction of the turn. So

to fly with a lot of empathy. Yes. Can you recognize a good pilot by their thermals flying, would you say?

I think you can recognize a good pilot in all areas by the fact that they are safe. So, I'm talking about pilots who don't do long-distance flights, but have their glider under control during takeoff, landing, and while flying. And you can see they are safe. I have more respect for them than for someone who deploys their reserve four times a year and flies 200er triangles or even further. So I believe a good pilot is generally safe. Someone who has a good understanding of their paraglider will also find thermals easy over time. And you can also recognize a good pilot by the fact that they are capable of

to feel the air mass and pilot a glider into the right air mass, while also utilizing that air mass as best as possible.

In the general warning, or at least in terms of perception, the good pilot—at least at the beginning—is often judged by XC points as a benchmark, simply because you don't know any other standard. What defines a good pilot? If someone can say, I've already flown 50 or eventually 100, or whatever, that counts as having reached a certain status. Something like that.

Well, you just said that you're actually looking for the beautiful moments of flying and a lot of hike and fly and other things. From your perspective, how can you convey to people or pilots that they can define flying differently than just wanting to measure themselves or be "good" or something? I mean, how do you lead people to the point where they don't say, "At the end of the day, I'll check the XC Cup or something else and see that the other person flew two kilometers further," but rather that it's really about your own experience, regardless of what the final score ends up being.

Yeah, for me, it would be bad if I spoke completely against comparing yourself and measuring yourself athletically, because I come from that exact scene and, so to speak, I've shed my horns there. Maybe that's why it's so easy for me now to say I don't actually need that at all anymore. And I get much more joy out of going flying with a group or with friends and having a nice flight. And I can absolutely say, in a glider just the day before yesterday at Unternberg, in the evening in a glider, that was one of my nicest flights this year, because it was simply—that was wellness flying, buttery smooth air, it was great, I could look at the landscape,

Just looking around. And I thought, oh cool, that I get to live here in this beautiful area. That's brilliant. And I don't want to say that it's generally wrong to measure yourself with XC points. Everyone should do it for themselves

be able to answer the question with a "yes" in a conversation with yourself. Does the way I practice this sport actually give me fun? Do I feel comfortable, do I feel safe, do I end the season with a clear plus of good experiences or not? And above all, I do it for myself, because one thing must be clear to everyone with XC points and all that: the media spotlight isn't on it there. You do it for yourself, not for sponsors, not to get some state order eventually, but for yourself. And if you have fun with it, with these processes, with this measuring yourself, if it motivates you to become a better—well, a safer—pilot, great, let's go.

But if it comes more from that effect of wanting to be someone, like you just said, or maybe to be able to push yourself a bit more in your home flight area, then that wouldn't be my understanding of having fun flying and enjoying flying, because you can also have massive fun and enjoy cross-country flying. And it doesn't matter at all, it's also fun to power through a situation in cross-country flying that isn't so nice, which you might even question in the moment, and then you arrive later in the evening after a long flight in calmer air and know what it was all for. Everything is okay. But with this sport, you don't earn money from it, you actually spend money, you don't get external sporting recognition, which certainly deserves quite a bit,

I think it goes entirely through the lens of what brings me the most joy personally, what I feel comfortable with, and what experience I sit down with my group of friends—or just by myself on the sofa—at night and think, "That was an awesome day." And an awesome day is actually always when you've pushed your limits, where you felt comfortable, and not constantly on that edge of "Oh, now it could get dangerous," in long stretches.

I did a podcast recently with Eki Maute, and it was about a similar topic.

And he also said that, yeah, a flight instructor is actually someone who plants a certain idea of flying into their students and says, "This seed is now going to sprout." Is that what you see with your flight school Freiraum, where you have this idea—even though it comes from your own history—that flying nowadays isn't so much about performance, but more about the experience, let's say? That the people who eventually come out of your school, where you see that very few of them then have an interest in competition flying, because I've planted a different idea in them?

The fewest, I mean really the very fewest, have an interest in competition flying or actually competing in flying competitions themselves. Nevertheless, it's as you said earlier, if, let's say, ten people come to us, there are ten different characters there. And we really try to plant that seed, to convey a philosophy of flying, and ours is far removed from being performance-oriented and competing; it's clearly about, hey, have fun, practice, become more confident, feel more comfortable. So these factors are the top priority. And from that perspective, I believe it's absolutely important to have a philosophy of flying in your flight school and to offer it as well.

But whether it is accepted, perceived, and practiced that way is up to each individual. And it's certainly not the case that it always works out. We see that too. Even so, we've done our best to give everyone, in terms of technical training, the tools to be as safe as possible on the way.

But many people have different approaches; one or another will notice very clearly that they need to fine-tune or improve things a bit to feel more comfortable and secure, and to practice the sport the way they imagine it in their minds. And others might have to take a harder path because they approach the thing very ambitiously from the start, perhaps with a bit of overconfidence, and hopefully have to realize through not-so-bad experiences, "Ah, okay, yeah, actually,"

Paragliding takes time to learn. So we always say, once you've got your ass kicked, the first three years of regular flying are absolute learning years. You're at the beginning and you need your time. It's better to skip something once in a while rather than boxing your way through difficult, stupid situations with a "watch me" attitude. Because for everyone who's done that so far, it doesn't even have to be a serious accident. This negative experience sticks with you and sets many people back. And those who approach it a bit more cautiously often learn faster.

Even as a flight school, even before the big hike-and-fly boom—which was significantly amplified by Corona and all that—you already focused on hike-and-fly very early on and say you offer those kinds of tours and so on. Would you say that this hike, the climbing up the mountain before a flight, actually automatically takes some of the drive for performance out of it, because you say, I've actually already reached a highlight today. And just by gliding down now, I've already had something. So that you really, even with that, sow something for yourself or simply shift the focus in a different way?

Absolutely. And I see that too when I'm with the groups. With thermals and cross-country seminars, it's really difficult, almost impossible, for everyone to be sitting at the table in the evening with a smile on their faces, which is our goal. That's what we want. For everyone to be satisfied and say, that was great. So you really need perfect weather for that to even be possible. Why is that? Because you end up comparing yourself to others. Especially with cross-country flying. Ah, I'm completely washed out. Most of the group has made it further. Then there are only a few who still say, that was awesome, that was great.

When we're out with Hike-and-Fly groups, everyone is actually there after the flight with a smile on their face, saying, "That was awesome." On the way up, because of how we handle it, there's no performance comparison. It's not about who's faster, but about walking together. And by the time you're up there, everyone has already had their personal "cool" moment. It's nice. And then a sort of calm sets in. Then the subsequent flight is simply more of a reward, but it's no longer about the pressure of having worked your way up the mountain just to do cross-country flying. And then there's that crackle in the air. Because now, first of all, this...

The performance still has to be delivered. The performance still has to be delivered, exactly. And that's what I like about hike-and-fly as well. And hike-and-fly doesn't rule out everything else. A long thermals flight is possible. A long cross-country flight is also possible. It's all possible. But personally, in my head, hike-and-fly is naturally also predestined for autumn with those enjoyable glides, where you might still be a bit happy about those extra minutes in the thermals. Yeah, I just like that. And I also have the feeling that this type of flying gives the most to the majority of the flight scene. And the area is growing and growing. So this hike-and-fly, as you said earlier, was...

So at the beginning, we really integrated it firmly into the flight school. And I remember exactly how many people laughed at it, saying, "Oh, so you just... hike up the mountains a bit, and then you do it." But for me, it was always a... well, the ultimate variant, it was brought into the program out of absolute conviction. And it's nice to see that it has actually fully arrived in the paragliding scene now, but also in guided paragliding tours.

Would the paragliding scene be better off without mountain lifts? I

I think it's good that there's both. And ideally, that helps separate the pilot numbers a bit. The ideal scenario would be that in the more concentrated areas, of course... Sure, without the cable cars it's always busier, and those who prefer that style of flying have just as much right to be there, and Hike-and-Fly pilots, within the limits of what's allowed and what's good for the sport—so, of course, following the rules there—can go more for Hike-and-Fly and spread out more there.

That would be the ideal case, the distribution. Unfortunately, we saw that during the Corona period, that there was often a lot going on at individual sites, and then it also...

at times was too much. Because those are often the most accessible spots, where you can quickly hike up or something like that, and people say, "That's the place to go," and then it blows out all the parking lots, and the people on-site are at least no longer amused by all the paragliders coming there. Yeah.

So, in your paragliding career, you started early as a child, then you achieved enormous sporting success, and then you switched your flying focus—or rather your philosophy, not psychology, the philosophy of flying—where you say that now Hike and Fly and this kind of experience are the priority for me. Is there still anything where you say, there's still something I want to achieve in my flying career, or what does achieving mean, where you say, there's still something I see that I haven't reached yet?

Currently, the paragliding school demands so much of me in terms of time alone that I'm happy with it and don't see a need to change any of the major levers. From that perspective, I think things will stay as they are for now, or hopefully they will. What is becoming increasingly important to me and holds more significance for me is the training of flight instructor assistants and flight instructors. More and more people are finding their way to Freiraum to actually get some hands-on guidance in that area.

I think there's still a lot of room for improvement in that regard. We're in an area where the path through the association alone is still too little to really inject quality into this professional sector. Maybe something will emerge in this area as well, to do more additionally, or as part of the flight school, in that field. And personally, I'm sure that paragliding—regardless of whether I'm actively involved in the flight school or if at some point it might need me less and I have more time to fly for myself—I will still find my flying goals again, which will certainly involve a certain amount of time.

And they are clearly in the area of enjoyable hike and fly, maybe also having more time to fly bivouacs and things like that. But I don't have anything extreme in mind. So, clearly more the enjoyable practices of our sport.

Last question to wrap up. In the past—I don't know if it's still like that today—you were always announced and referred to as Big Bird. That was your nickname. Where did that actually come from?

The name Big Bird was given to me, just like in the field of competition flying that we discussed earlier. Big Bird, I don't even know. Because you're tall, because you're 1.90 meters or something? Exactly. So Thorsten Siegel, Thermik, back then in the magazine Flying Clyde, which still existed at the time, portrayed it—he associated it with my height, over 1.90 meters, and my flying style; that's how the nickname Big Bird came about back then. Did you like it? The name? Yeah. I didn't have any problems with it.

He was okay. But that was back in the competition scene; the name isn't that common anymore, or I'm only addressed by it extremely rarely now.

Do you ever feel like a bird when you go out and fly completely freely?

Yeah, well, I don't want to claim that I fly like a... I mean, of course I can't fly like a bird, but in terms of the feeling of flight, sure. Would you like to be a bird? I can still remember well, so really in my childhood, there was always this dream, actually sort of like a wingsuit flyer, of course that didn't exist back then, to fly down the slopes, but to really fly, to have a handle on things, from that perspective, sure, the feeling of flight, or being able to fly like a bird, would obviously be awesome. It's just the question of whether if you are a bird, you can still enjoy it as much as a paraglider does, because for a bird, it's part of the daily business and maybe also just the purpose of getting food.

I just enjoy the absolute freedom of paragliding, and maybe that's the great thing—that you can't really describe the feeling that well, and you don't even want to describe it in that moment; it just feels amazing, most of the time. You're just there, hanging in the air. I'm just in the air and enjoying the scenario.

and because I've let go of that performance mindset, it's become much more playful than it used to be. I have the time, so if I see a nice slope during a small cross-country flight where the wind is hitting it perfectly, I can do a bit of "Wagga Wagga," play around, maybe even land there once in a while.

and just enjoy the landscape up there for a moment, then keep flying. Yeah, as we're talking about this, it just struck me again—it's pure freedom. Being able to do almost whatever you want.

Pure freedom.

A lovely way to end. Achim, thank you for the conversation. We've covered a lot of ground. You've led a very interesting life so far, and I wish you many more great experiences of freedom in the coming time.

Thank you. Thank you too, and I was also happy that we could talk.

That was episode number 64 of Podz-Glidz, featuring Big Bird Achim Joos in conversation with Lucian Haas. If you want to learn more about Achim's past sporting successes and his current work at his flight school Freiraum, you can find a number of further links in the show notes for this episode on the Lu-Glidz blog. You can find the Gleitschirm-Blog Lu-Glidz, which Podz-Glidz belongs to, online at www.Lu-Glidz.blogspot.com. Lu-Glidz is spelled l u minus g l i d z.

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