But I do take enough precautions, so it shouldn't sound like I'm trying to commit suicide here, no, it's really not like that, otherwise I wouldn't be healthy after 30 years of aviation sports, right, but, well, with photography, of course you take risks, but based on experience, it's more the models who are at risk and not the photographer.
-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast. Stories from the cosmos of paragliding. In this episode with Felix Wölk and Lucian Haas at the mic.
Anyone who occasionally browses through various paragliding magazines, admires their cover photos, or looks for adventurous travel reports inside will, over a relatively short but long time, come across a name. Felix Wölk. The 48-year-old today has been flying for 30 years. He has had a paraglider for 30 years and has made flying not just a hobby, but the defining drive of his life. Felix is a flight instructor, a flight photographer, and above all a flight traveler who has already traveled by paraglider on and over every non-iced continent on Earth. In some places, even as a pioneer with several first flights. There are many stories to tell about this, but they can be read in a more gripping way in Felix's reports, some of which I have linked in the show notes for this 80th.
I've linked the podcast episode on Fluglights. I was more interested in the background. What is it that drives him? How did he manage to not just fly with, but also live from paragliding, while always somehow doing his own thing? Felix Wölk talks about all of that in the following conversation. It covers, among other things, flight addiction, adventure, his ideas on aesthetic paragliding photography, and his work for paragliding photography. We talk about the risks of photoshoots in the air, starts from active volcanoes, and what he places particular value on when it comes to the training and further education of pilots. After all, Felix Wölk only recently co-founded a new flight school.
If you enjoy Podz-Glidz, why not support my work on this podcast as a patron? You can find out how that's possible, easily and without any obligation, on the website of my blog Fluglights at www.flug.de. Of course, you can also simply recommend Podz-Glidz. With a good rating on Spotify or Apple Podcasts, a post on Facebook or Instagram, and best of all, just in direct conversation with your flying friends.
Felix, define the term "flight addiction" for me.
Oh, that's quite the brain teaser to start with. Flight addiction... well, I can certainly tell you about it from my own life. Flight addiction definitely made me quite addicted right away. That is to say, an addiction is something you do and then all the other things in life suffer because of it, I'd say. And that's how it was for me back then. I was so enthusiastic about it that I basically gave up everything else I had done up to that point. And accordingly, I'd say you can certainly talk about flight addiction.
You've given me such a brief biography. And it says very clearly why I got into this topic of flight addiction in the first place. It says there, 1995, carpentry apprenticeship dropped out after one year because I was already addicted to flying and needed time. Then it continues, 1996, landscaping apprenticeship dropped out after one month because of flight addiction and exploitation of the apprentices.
So, at that time, flight addiction was already a significant part of your life.
Yeah, that naturally defined my life right from the start, I have to say. Back then... I had finished school, did my Abitur at a Gymnasium in Munich, and basically had no plan for what I should do next. And I thought, I'll just go flying for now. That's how I ended up with it, and yeah, accordingly, my conscience haunted me a bit over time because I should have somehow managed to do a vocational training or something. But that never happened. I tried it, as you mentioned, with a carpentry apprenticeship and with a landscaping apprenticeship. But... it was just unbearable. I couldn't spend every day from morning until evening doing one job and not go flying. That was impossible for me. Not to mention that flying, of course, costs money, even back then.
And I had to pay for that, of course. And well, with an apprenticeship, it was like 400 something Marks a month back then. How are you supposed to buy an aircraft with that? Difficult, right? So in that sense, there was no other option for me.
What did you do then? What did you do to
to get money? Yeah, I worked jobs. I rode a bike in Munich. I worked as a bicycle courier in the winter, because that wasn't flying season and usually isn't. So I was out in Munich in the winter as a bicycle courier and earned my money that way. It was a pretty good income, I have to say. But at the time, it was also a pretty exhausting job in the winter. Eight to ten hours a day. But the good thing was that afterwards... In five months of winter time, I had a decent amount of money. And then I could take the whole summer off to go flying. That helped me out a lot, of course. You need a lot of time to fly. You have to accumulate flight hours. And I just took that time for myself.
That was the kind of life I was leading back then, yeah.
Let's take a step back to your apprenticeship as a carpenter or landscape gardener. You say you dropped out because of an addiction to flying. What kind of feeling is that, when you say "addicted to flying"? How did it manifest? If someone has a drug addiction, maybe they get the shakes or something. What do you get as someone addicted to flying?
Yeah, basically, I can remember just one example that comes to mind spontaneously. In that machine room you had to be in during the carpentry apprenticeship, there were these large windows and you could see the sky. Now, as an aspiring and enthusiastic pilot, you already had an eye for the clouds. And when you're standing there at the machine and... outside you see the cumulus clouds growing and it's 11 o'clock, half past eleven, and you could fly thermals all day. That's when you get the itch. I couldn't handle that and you feel trapped. You feel trapped there.
But you still have all your fingers, so you didn't somehow accidentally saw one off while cloud-gazing or anything. That
would have been the best thing. At the circular saw, you mean looking away and then... Yeah, yeah. No, I was paying attention. But I did manage to finish a year.
Yeah, that was already bad during my school years too, somehow, that I couldn't just lock myself in a room. I just couldn't stand it. Also this urge to go outside, that was also back then, before aviation, nature just lured me out too much, too strongly. And the freedom and being outside and movement—with flying, of course, that was even more pronounced.
Yeah. Did you experience the aviation addiction as something pleasant, or was it also sometimes unpleasant for you?
No, it was never unpleasant for me. I fundamentally felt it as an absolute fulfillment, a deep dive into my dreams. So, it was a huge joy and it still is. It's become a bit of a habit now, of course, because I've also been working in the scene professionally for years. But, but it was a wonderful feeling. I didn't see it as an obsession, for God's sake. Not at all. It was finally the fulfillment of this urge for freedom that I felt. So, it was a wonderful feeling, there's really no other way to put it.
Then maybe "seeking" is basically a term with too much of a negative connotation. Yes. I was already adventurous or whatever, and because of that, I had to—I couldn't do anything else. I can
You could see it that way, yeah. Of course, you could also say "fluglustig" would be another word for it. But for me, it was already a bit more extreme. I mean, I dedicated my entire life to this thing immediately and set everything up accordingly.
To say it was just a nice hobby I pursued would be an understatement, I think. So, you could call it a passion, a hobby, something in that ballpark, maybe.
How did you do it then? How did you manage to make a living, even with your addiction to flying, in a way that ultimately earns you money—and all the money you need or needed for your addiction to flying?
Yeah, that started when, after a few years, I felt the need to somehow keep memories of the great adventures I'd had back then, many of which I experienced with the kite, and I started...
So, I started attaching camera rigs to the kiting rigs, built these wild structures onto them, which many people hadn't even thought of at the time. I think I was pretty much the only one doing that. And accordingly, yeah, I started collecting photo material. But the intention was first to capture memories of the great days I experienced while flying. And then I just got the idea to send the images to magazines and publishers, and I remember quite suddenly having a cover photo on a magazine. That was the kiting and paraglider magazine back then. It was called Fly and Glide. And I thought, oops, I can actually make money with this.
And then I started pushing the photography. That actually provided a basis, you could say, to make money from it. And then, of course, the flight instructor thing came into play as well. I did the flight instructor training in parallel, which is also a very nice profession. But that's basically the direction it went in, yeah.
You became well-known, especially in paragliding circles, primarily for your, let's say, adventure trips and the corresponding reports you published in the paragliding magazines. You yourself even describe some of these trips as pioneer flights. What were you looking for in those countries where you say you were a pioneer?
Yes, that was obviously a bigger adventure. I remember many trips to Africa, for example, which have to be said are many years ago now. Back then, I was often traveling with Michael Gebert; we were a good team at the time. We traveled Ethiopia, for instance, and were pretty much certainly the first people to ever fly a paraglider there. So that was naturally a pioneering trip. We were in places in the middle of the interior where people had never seen a white person before. And then we came down from the sky with paragliders and were looking for new flight possibilities as well. We took a lot of time back then. Every year in the winter, we took two or three months together and traveled the globe with the intention of somehow discovering new flight areas or flight possibilities.
Flight areas often didn't even exist yet. Not in Ethiopia, for example. Also not in Tanzania, where we were, or Kenya, or in South America, a lot of the time.
And those were definitely pioneering trips. We were aviation pioneers. We were looking for the new, the unknown with our paragliders. And that's something that's been found, I have to say. The world is huge, and there is an enormous variety of flight conditions and meteorological phenomena that constantly throw you completely off balance because they are so amazing and so inexplicable. You just don't believe it. I also remember a night flight in Brazil. Thermals at night on an island that then carried us 800 meters above sea level. We took off at 11 p.m. and thought, let's just give it a try. Thermals formed in the middle of the night. Yeah, those are just great things, great memories.
And those were definitely pioneering trips. Pioneering expeditions, so Michel and I were out there like paragliding pioneers. And Federico, I have to say. Federico Kutscheid. A strong travel team, I'd say.
Let's go back to this topic of Ethiopia, where you said it was one of your major pioneering trips. Take us there for a bit. What are the most defining experiences or images you still have of it? Even if you say it was a while ago.
Yes, things happened there that you never forget. We were, as I said, in the deep heart of Africa, where people had never seen a white skin color in their lives. And accordingly, the social consequences of our flying were enormous. So, of course, we saw many police stations and also prisons from the inside. We had crowds of people that were unimaginable. I mean, thousands. So that was actually the biggest task there in Ethiopia. Not the flying and taking off and landing somewhere or the turbulence. That's all somehow manageable. The much bigger task is somehow realizing that socially there.
Because you're dealing with unimaginable crowds. And they see everything. They aren't as desensitized as the people there were or are in our civilized Western world. And the children running around there see someone paragliding for many, many kilometers. And then they'll walk 20 or 30 kilometers just to be there when he lands. So you have thousands around you. And everyone wants to touch you. That's exhausting, of course. You need nerves of steel and you need a certain tactic, like packing up your equipment as quickly as possible right after landing. Because otherwise, everything gets torn apart and the rescuer is out there. And there's a bit of a lack of distance, I'd say.
So, the mere desire to touch a white person who comes down from the sky.
Did you know, or did you guys know, what was waiting for you there? Or was it really like, you just went there completely wide-eyed and said, "Come on, Ethiopia sounds interesting, there seem to be some great mountains there. Let's go fly there." And then you land for the first time and are almost run over by the crowd.
That's exactly how it was. Before every winter, we'd pull out the old Dirke world atlas from our school days, flip through it a bit, and point at something with our fingers. And then we'd organize the trip or just head off there blindly. Always on a small budget, pinching pennies, using public transport and all that. And yeah, we just headed into these countries blindly. And yeah, we did it. And we enjoyed it too, in some ways. It was a great way to travel because, of course, you get to know the country incredibly well. But accordingly, we were sometimes surprised by the consequences of our actions.
If you're saying you were traveling for two or three months in the winter... you were probably in Ethiopia for several months, or at least several weeks, anyway.
Yes, several weeks in any case. You need a lot of time if you're traveling like that, and especially if you want to fly to countries like those. Like I said, you have to expect that after the first flight, you'll be locked up for a week or something. And you have to somehow talk your way out of it using diplomatic means, in some form. So in Ethiopia, for example, that's how it was. We were held for a week. But until that finally turned into a lifetime flight permit in Ethiopia, on the part of the Ethiopian general who had visited us personally. Which is, of course, quite an experience in itself. And he sat in your cell? He visited us, exactly.
And we weren't in a cell for a week. We were basically under
House arrest. Yes,
the house arrest, exactly. House arrest under supervision. And well, it was actually a very nice meeting with the General, I have to say. It was also a nice networking opportunity. A very pleasant conversation. And then we were able to explain to him that we do something for the country too. That we also boost tourism because of it. And he really liked that. And then we got this lifelong flight permit. And were allowed to travel again.
Did you go back to Ethiopia later? Did that lifelong flight permit of yours get you anywhere? Yes,
Overall, we were there three times. Yes, if I remember correctly, it was three or four times. We even had a group trip then. We took people along to show them "Ethiopian flight zones," so to speak. Overall, we were there four times, yes. But even if you have a permit like that, of course it doesn't do you any good because nobody knows about it.
But they were great trips, I have to say. And especially the human connections you experience there. Especially in Africa, I always really liked that. The warmth of the people. And the kindness. Those are qualities that we often miss in our world.
There's another adventure I heard you describe as your most beautiful and wildest one. You also wrote a report about it. But before I reveal what it was about, I sent you an excerpt where I said I'd like you to read it out loud. Yes. If you could pull that up, I'd ask you to just read this short passage from it. Then we'll talk about what was actually going on in the background.
Yes, I have it right here in front of me. I can just read it out for your listeners. I'd be happy to.
And once again, we're in luck. The late afternoon brings a perfect tailwind. One last time, we count to three. With three steps against the wind, the dream of our volcano trilogy comes true. We glide from the crater of Europe's highest active volcano toward the sea. The air is calm. In the evening, high above the lanterns of Safarana et Nea, I'm overcome by sentimentality. I belt out Umberto Tozzi's "Ti Amo" at the top of my lungs and roar my Italian declaration of love into the kitschy-colored evening sky, interrupted by sulfurous coughs. One last swing over the playground fence of Safarana et Nea. A few cheering children, and the ground has us all again.
We're completely flooded with happy hormones. A few moments later. We can't believe what we're seeing. Etna is erupting. Right where we were standing just 45 minutes ago. A deep black plume of smoke is rising rapidly up to two kilometers high. The sabianere, black sand, will cover the streets of Sicily again tomorrow. The monster is alive.
Very beautiful.
This report is titled Inferno. What was it about? I mean, what kind of trip was it?
Yes, I have to say, that was one of the most beautiful trips I've ever taken. It was about three or four years ago now. And back then, I traveled by bike from Germany with Tobias Böck, a pilot buddy of mine, from Allgäu, where I was living at the time. We went from southern Germany over the Alps and all the way through Italy to Palermo. And on the way, we flew over Italy's three most active volcanoes, which are also the most active in Europe. That was Vesuvius near Naples, then Stromboli and the island of Stromboli with its active volcano, Stromboli. And finally, Mount Etna in Sicily, which was active as hell at the time.
And that was, of course, a great trip. It was a fantastic adventure, especially because it actually worked out. We were lucky with the weather, especially at the Etna at the end. And this way of traveling by bike—we had tents with us, we camped. All my camera equipment was with us. I had a trailer, I rode with the trailer. And then the paragliders, that was just wonderful, I have to say. And then through Italy, which is full of culinary sensations. Every evening you're starving after cycling. And you feast your way through a paradise. So that was a great trip, I have to say.
When you set off in the Allgäu, was it already clear that you wanted to climb and fly over these three volcanoes? So was that really the goal?
Yes, that was the goal. Yeah, we set that as our task, our motto. We're just going to try it. And that was the goal. And we actually really succeeded.
Well, as far as I know, it's not allowed to fly from these volcanoes at all. So, it was allowed...
in my life, there's not much I've done. But it's not a crime that hurts anyone to just fly recklessly from a volcano that is, well, officially a nature park. It doesn't hurt anyone. But of course, it involved a bit of trickery; we, yeah, we had to cheat a bit to make it work. Vesuvius is in Naples, and it's obviously, well, probably not, yeah, officially allowed to take off there, I have to be honest. But the other thing is, if you want to request an official permit, then it becomes possible.
I sometimes dare to doubt it. Yeah.
With Etna, it was obviously understandable back then that the mountain was closed. Normally, you can go up Etna, even up to the crater where we were and then started from. But at that time, it was obviously massively active. So the whole island, all of Sicily, was already covered in black sand on the way there when we cycled to it. Often, like on the side of the road, they had to push it away because, of course, it had been falling from the sky for weeks beforehand. Well, anyway, what do you do when you've cycled through all of Italy and were able to fly over two volcanic ones, and then you're standing in front of the third final one. And it's laughing at you, and the weather is good, the wind is weak, and the chance is there.
Well, there are some things you just do anyway, even if they aren't allowed.
Did you have any doubts about something like that? Or is it just that, after getting permission like that, you're such a tight-knit group that he says, "Screw it, we're doing this now. We're going up the volcano, right?"
Yeah, that's how it was. And there was no discussion at all. So, but where you're mentioning doubts, I have to say, a companion on this trip, Jochen Schweizer—not that "Experience Jochen Schweizer" with the big business, but Jochen Schweizer from Sonthofen, a top pilot, also a flight instructor, and an old friend and super-mentor. A photo model of mine. He accompanied us for two weeks, joined us in Naples. And that's a very funny story. So, he's a top pilot, top aerobatic pilot, top cross-country pilot, and very tough. However, he studied geology. And that was, of course, his mistake on the trip. And so I basically never saw him.
He already had some major concerns about flying at Stromboli. And at Etna, if you're a geologist flying over a volcano and then you see it erupting exactly where you took off, I think you'd get some concerns. I was completely clueless about that stuff and was basically just chasing the hotshots, the great photos. And yeah, accordingly, I thought about it less. But Jochen, I don't know if I can convince him to fly over an active volcano again. But in any case, he pulled it off bravely and, as always, modeled perfectly in front of the camera.
So in your report, it also comes up that you guys start there. And I don't know who it was, but you also write that, while starting, two lines were torn on the sharp lava rock first. He still got into the air, though. And then, I think, a sail was torn somewhere else. And then you flew. And just as you described it, at least you're hovering over the crater and saying, okay, no one is allowed to sink now. Otherwise, you'll just land inside and be done for. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. But where was that roughly? That was more
That's the case at Stromboli. Oh, okay. Stromboli has a relatively striking north flank, that black one where the lava always flows into the sea at night. And the wind was blowing cleanly there, and accordingly, we were even able to soar at Stromboli, which was absolute luck. But we're already talking about launch wind, wind speeds of 30 to 40 km/h. So with mountaineering gliders, you need quite a bit of wind. And we managed to fly over the volcano by letting ourselves move across the volcano in the updraft. Of course, you can't starve there; you'd be sitting in the active volcano crater and be dead instantly, that has to be made clear. But you can watch out to make sure you still have enough forward speed and don't let yourself move too far back.
But the starting conditions on Etna were a bit more difficult, because of the gasping, since everything smelled so much like sulfur and you shouldn't breathe in too much of it, and the rock was sharper—it's not exactly paraglider-friendly pavement, if you can put it that way. It's a volcano, after all.
When you're in such intense situations, like taking off from a volcano and you know the other two are already gone, and one of them had lines that snapped or something like that, do you stay completely cool or do you start to panic?
I'd be lying if I said I didn't also feel some kind of...
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also kind of excited, but I can remember that regarding this volcano trilogy and the flights from the volcanoes, I was of course very obsessed with getting photo material—and top-tier material, because where else are you going to get that? And accordingly, I definitely turned a blind eye to things like wind speed and so on, and then I have to say quite clearly, I'm just chasing after them with the camera once the models are already in the air, and then the shot counts, but I do pay enough attention—I don't want it to sound like I'm committing suicide here, no, it's really not like that, otherwise I wouldn't be healthy after 30 years of aviation.
But with photography, it's just that you naturally take risks, but based on experience, it's more the models who are at risk and not the photographer.
Regarding this, especially with the photography and these shoots with models and all that, let's get back to that in a moment. Before that, I'm interested in something else, because we're currently doing this reportage too. You don't just write about photography; you also write a lot, so you basically always deliver full reportages with images and also texts written by you. And not just for paraglider magazines, but I saw you also write for other adventure magazines or car magazines, where you say you deliver corresponding adventure reportages. What does writing give you in this whole process?
What it gives me as a person. I mean, does it help you
to process something like that again? Yes, exactly.
So it actually started for the same reason as photography—that I wanted to capture these adventures I experienced, especially while flying. That's how it actually began for me with writing; I just sat down and wrote a story about the adventure I'd had. And then, of course, over time, let's say, it became more professional. I had to follow guidelines, editorial guidelines and so on. But that's how it started. I didn't learn it, either. I didn't study journalism or anything, or take any courses. I'm still writing with the Adler search system using two index fingers.
That's why it naturally takes a long time too. But that's how it started. It was for the same reason as with photography. And from that, it basically just became a job, because apparently quite a few people liked it.
If you look at it now, which do you enjoy more, the photography or the writing, like as a memento of those adventure stories?
Hard to say.
Actually, it's the photography, but that's because when you write nowadays, you have to stick to so many guidelines, which isn't really in my nature. That means length requirements. Length requirements and, of course, also
the needs of the sponsors, which you obviously have, and you naturally have to consider everything you write, and yeah, just between us, the truth isn't always desired, let's just say. So, in that sense, photography is a bit freer; you can basically always publish a photo. I mean, the same problem with sponsors and all that exists, and you also have guidelines for certain photo jobs—we can talk about that again—but I also have to say that the work itself makes photography a bit less pleasant, but fundamentally, I have more freedom when I'm taking photos.
What I've noticed while reading your reports compared to other aviation stories that other people produce is that you always write an enormous amount about the experiences surrounding it. Sometimes you do an aviation report, but in the end, I'd say maybe 10% is about the flying and 90% is about everything else around it, which makes sense—if you translate that into a newspaper story, you're not even flying for at least 10% of the time on such a trip. So the experiences often come from something completely different. Even so, in these aviation reports, the flying actually comes up relatively briefly. One question I've asked myself is, could that perhaps be because the feeling of flying is so hard to put into words?
I don't really want to say that.
I think you can put that into words. I believe I've changed my style a bit over the years. That's probably also because I've become a bit more jaded after 30 years, and maybe I don't feel that youthful enthusiasm you experience at the beginning of aviation as much anymore, because I've often experienced a lot of it already. And I think my texts used to be more focused on flying, the facts, and the feelings and emotions of flying, and were very subjectively shaped. But now, it's definitely become a bit more objective, with a bit more practical value and maybe less emotional and
Yeah, and because my interests have probably branched out a bit more by now, different topics besides flying are also touched upon in the stories. But I can't really answer that question properly. However, I think writing about flying isn't a problem at all. You can fill books with it, whether they're factual or emotional.
Is there a book by you, or are you planning something where you say, I'm going to write down my story without having to worry about sponsors, truth tweaks, or anything else?
Yeah, those would be the memoirs. Sometime, right? I could actually start on that soon. Oh, sorry.
With 30 years of life as a pilot and adventure travel, you've probably gathered enough material to write some very interesting memoirs, at least for that part.
Yes, that is actually an idea of mine—that I could take all those texts, and especially the raw drafts of old texts that I've archived, and edit out the essence to create some kind of nice original work.
It's unfortunately a low-paying art form. That's a bit the problem. So, self-publishing things that are personal—I'm not sure. It just takes a lot of time and is relatively unprofitable. Yeah, and of course you also have to...
look. Isn't adventure travel relatively unprofitable anyway? Especially during the time when you say you're traveling in Africa for up to two months—you have a super intense trip, but in the end, you probably can't earn that much from reports, so that you can say, "Yeah, great, I made a good profit." You have to
also say, you also have to
...the time spent writing and all the other stuff, editing photos, bagging everything up. I can't imagine that, especially in today's times where pay is decreasing, you can actually make a good living doing that proportionally.
Yes, the question is, of course, what is a good living? I think everyone has a different approach to that. But it's definitely not a profession to make you wealthy. That's definitely not the case. But that's not really at the top of my personal list anyway. I have completely different priorities. I mean, I want to lead a fulfilling life and do as much as possible of what I imagine and what my dreams were, and I want to realize those. Money plays a role, of course, that's clear. It's inevitable; without money, it doesn't work. The world doesn't turn like that in our time. But it shouldn't be number one on the list.
Or for me
at least. Your reports always include many images. You're also an aerial photographer, and you're certainly one of the most well-known paraglider photographers, I'd say, nowadays. What actually makes a good flight – or aerial photo – for you?
That has naturally changed for me. My style, let's say, in photography. But that has also changed because photography itself has changed.
Right now, for me, a good photographic photo—I have to say this clearly—is one that follows documentary image rules, so a documentary photo that has an aesthetic appeal, meaning it also follows the classical guidelines of photography. So, currently, I'm not much of a fan of super wide-angle lenses or anything like that, because of course anyone can do that now with GoPros and stuff that has relatively little to do with reality. That's my opinion now, my personal one. I used to be different; I experimented with super wide-angle lenses very early on, especially with kite flying using 14mm lenses, which of course had distortion at the edges.
Fisheye lenses were obviously a sensation at the beginning because they didn't exist yet, or only in the absolute professional photography scene. And back then, it was naturally a top photo for me when I managed to get it done for the first time with such a wide-angle focal length. As I said, that has changed. I've become a fan of classic focal lengths again, rather of telephoto shots, of photos with a documentary character and little image processing.
To be honest, part of it is also because I'm not particularly good at image editing and I don't have the patience for hours of editing and computer work. But nevertheless, when I see a photo, even by other photographers, I appreciate the documentary value, because nowadays every kid can edit images, distort them, do retouching, and cobble things in or take them out. And I think that documentary photography will survive—I hope so, at least—just as theater will continue to hold its place in acting, and should and must.
Now you keep saying documentary photography. How much of what you photograph—you have your clients in the background and stuff like that—how much of that is basically planned or staged anyway, or how often is it ultimately a documentary film? A documentary snapshot.
It involves a lot of planning. So even with a documentary photo, the way I aim for it, there's a lot of organization and planning and everything—it's all preparatory work. If the budget allows, I go out with the team, with top pilots; it all goes over the radio, and I have a visual in mind and relay it over the radio, and then everyone flies just for the camera. That of course also improves the results, the high-quality ones. And I'd say, if we're being honest, my photos have a look that I think is documentary. And it's also a fact that this pilot is flying in this scenery over these glaciers and has a beautiful position that looks as if he's about to circle into the thermals, and there's action in the image and movement.
So I try to take photos that look like snapshots, but in reality, they are well-studied with top pilots, with a top team, and planned, because you just can't do it any other way. You can't get that close to the subject or anything like that otherwise. You won't get to a location together at three and a half thousand meters somewhere in the glacier world if you don't do it disciplined on the right day and
highly organized. They are photos that, as I said, have a documentary character, they are documentary in nature because the action is happening, but the way to get there can't be achieved any other way than with a highly organized shoot with good people.
You also work as a photographer for the Red Bull X Alps and are the head of the Aerial Photography Team there. Sorry, but what exactly does this team do, or what defines the Aerial Photography Team? And as far as I understand, there aren't just photographers involved, but also pilots.
Yeah, that's right. I've always been a photographer for the X Alps, or almost always. I think it's been about 15 years or something. And my work has changed in that regard. In that sense, I used to be one of the, let's say, regular photographers who covered the event. That means you follow the people around, photograph the athletes, do portraits of the athletes beforehand, and so on. And what I noticed, or what I eventually told the organizer, is that aerial shots are actually missing. And of course, there are a ton of helicopters flying around with photographers inside, but
Helicopters are very limited in paraglider photography. You can't get very close to the aircraft because it would be dangerous due to the turbulence. You also can't fly over the pilot through the downwash. You can't fly in front of him because he would fly right through the downwash. So, with a helicopter, you're always stuck with a very limited perspective. And then I suggested that I take care of the aerial shots, from a paraglider, where you can get closer to the pilots. And that's how it came about. And now, of course, there are the problems that in a competition you don't have a chance to photograph an athlete, because they aren't waiting for the photographer who's just wandering around in a tandem thinking they can get a shot.
That's a long process... If he tips over while still on the radio, he'll fly back again. You
were almost, but I wasn't quite that far yet. The
The standard command from the photographer in the air to the models is always "lower, lower, lower." You're usually flying toward the tandem and can't keep up. So, no one is actually joining in. But regardless, my current job during the X-Hypes is that we don't film the competition itself, because that's just not possible. That's filmed from the helicopter or by photographers standing on the ground. And my team and I do product shots every time—so these are promotional shots that serve the sponsors. The event lives off a lot of sponsors, and they all have a contractual right to image material to promote their products with the pictures and so on.
Furthermore, the event is also promoted in online media through my shots, especially during the two-year break that always occurs, and so on and so forth. But these are shots that I make with my team which embody and show the event or the spirit of the Red Bull X-Alps. That
means, the spirit is there, but the viewer—so the person seeing the images—might not know that in the background; they assume that one of these X-Alps athletes is flying and was just photographed during the flight in front of glacier XY. And that wasn't the X-Alps athlete, whoever that was, but someone who basically recreated it with the same glider. No, because you also have to look at the
...always pay attention to the captions. So, exactly, the captions on the publications are always completely accurate; it's very professional work there. And it clearly states that this is a shot from a pre-shoot, which is just...
for example, the region where a group of pilots is currently located is presented beautifully in a nice photo, so that you as a spectator can see, "ah, now they're, let's say, at the Matterhorn," and the Matterhorn looks more beautiful and spectacular and all that. It just makes the imagery a bit more attractive because of that.
How many of the real, I'd say, "real" X-Alps pilots fly in front of your lens, so to speak? Is it mainly another team of people who don't actually participate in the competition in the end?
So, the X-Alps athletes are of course always available, everyone of them. I mean, before the competition, they have to be there so that footage can be collected. But basically, I have my own team with my own pilots, which I much prefer. Usually, it's Johannes Baumgarten, who is one of the best German pilots ever, and Anselm Rau. He's perhaps known through the DHV training he works in and is a test pilot for Air Turquoise. So these are all full-pro pilots whom I've known for a long time. We've known each other forever, we're friends, and that's worth a lot in this work because it makes the job much, much safer. I mean, sure, you can do photoshoots with outside pilots, but
even with top-tier pros, the risk is still higher that they'll fly too aggressively for the camera and it becomes dangerous. I can rule that out by taking people I know well, people I trust not to take too many risks for the camera. I've also had bad experiences—bitter experiences—before.
During the last X hypes, someone...
crashed, who flew for you. Did I hear that wrong? I didn't have anyone crash during the last ones, for God's sake. Luckily. But I did have an accident during a shoot once, and it was a serious one too. One of my models. And yeah, that was also a... Everything healed up again, but they were seriously injured.
Yeah, luckily they're perfectly fine now, but it was such a... I was a bit reflective afterwards. So, I definitely changed the way I work after that experience, because that's the worst thing that can happen.
But was that too much risk in that situation? I mean, was it too much pilot risk that he took for the shot, was it just too risky? Yes, exactly.
That's how it was. It was at Mont Blanc. We had arranged an evening shoot on the glacier. We wanted to take the cable car up in the evening, and he was still in the air, so I said, okay, let's meet up at the top on the glacier. He tried to fly up and land perfectly, and then there was this nasty weather situation with an inversion, which happens often there. And he just tried too forcefully to stick to that meeting point and get up there, and he flew in bad air very close to the slope to get through the inversion. And it's high mountains and rocky there, and unfortunately, he hit the rocks and had to be rescued by helicopter. But as I said, in the end, it turned out okay.
But he just tried too hard to be available for the photographer up on the glacier in the evening. And it wasn't a pilot I've known for decades, like the case with Anselm, for example. Or with Jochen Schweizer, who cycled through Italy with me. Or even Baumhieder, Johannes Baumgarten.
How dangerous are these photoshoots, or how much of a hazard are they? How risky are such photoshoots in the air for you? You say you fly a lot in tandem. You're probably sitting in the front and don't have to control anything anymore. You can just tell him where to fly, but you have both hands free. But there are also other cases, where you're probably just on a solo paraglider—your volcano story, where you were flying along solo and then have to do everything freehand, and probably aren't always in the most pleasant air out there. That's clear.
Yes, sorry.
Have you ever experienced any risky, negative, or dangerous situations where you thought, "Oh, shit"? Or where you would have preferred to just drop the camera or whatever?
Fortunately, without any consequences. I haven't had any truly dangerous situations while solo photography, luckily. But it's obviously tricky, we don't even need to talk about that. To fly with a camera in a tandem, you basically need strong thermals, otherwise you'll just sink the models and other gliders opposite you. And then it becomes tedious for the others too. I mean, you can't get into a top position because you simply climb worse. And accordingly, it's of course much easier if you fly with a higher-performance wing. But also much more dangerous, always letting go of the brakes. Photography means flying completely hands-free. You also have to adjust the camera within seconds, and for that you need two hands. At least I do. I'm not just taking snapshots; I have to deal with aperture and shutter speed and stuff, even spontaneously at times.
And that means you're always flying close to the subject, looking through the lens, with a different focal length. That means you obviously can't judge the distance to the model. Well, with experience you can. If you have a wide-angle lens on, you know it looks far away, but it's actually quite close.
And of course, that's a tricky matter. But luckily, nothing has ever happened to me. It's very important that when solo-photographing, you fly a device that has passive safety. Now, a training glider, let's just say, won't help you because you won't have the performance and won't be able to keep up. So, it has to match a bit in terms of performance. If you're photographing a two-liner, you can't do it with an ENA glider.
keep up with. You just can't do it.
What do you fly behind it then? A C-glider?
Yes, currently I fly the Advanced Sigma 11 for photography, the new Sigma. I've flown it extensively and also taken photos with it, and I consider it very safe for me. Even handheld. For a C-glider, I have to say. We're talking about the C-glider here. Now, that's not supposed to mean it's a beginner glider, for God's sake. But for me, it's very suitable.
So you've never actually hurt yourself during photo shoots?
So, not me. Not myself. No. Yeah, okay. That was the question. Raumi once dumped me into the slope in the tandem. If he hears this now, he'll laugh. Well, so, a failed start with the tandem, because you have to get out somehow even in bad wind. Yeah, it's caught us before, but never seriously. The camera was broken then and
broken bones or something, but nothing serious. When you're doing photography, you often try to push things with force. We don't need to beat around the bush at all. So, you fly in conditions that aren't ideal because you're there with the photo team in the location and you have to get your job done under pressure to succeed. And you often fly in lousy conditions that might not be perfectly safe, or definitely aren't. Accordingly, you need a high level of skill in the team as well to ensure it stays a safe operation. It's just something like that.
like a stuntman -wise, it sounds a bit like that. Yeah,
Sure, you could maybe compare it like that.
I can remember, in my flying career, which is a bit younger than yours and stuff. How old is it? I started in 2004. Ah, 2004, that's already... Yeah, it's been a while now, but it's still, I think yours is at least 10 years longer or something. Anyway, the first photo I remember seeing of you was this photo series that was published by the DHV right away, where you deliberately simulated a tree landing and flew into a tall fir tree, I think it was snow-covered, too. Exactly. And I thought back then, oh wow, that's one tough guy.
Did you do even more stunts like that for some photos?
Yeah, definitely. I used to make short films back then, together with Michael. One was called On the Run; we were on Lanzarote and of course I also acted. From a script perspective, I had to imagine being a paraglider who doesn't have any control at all, and yeah, things like attempted take-offs in 40 km/h winds and sliding over lava in reverse were shown there. It hurt a bit, of course, but as a professional, you do anything for the camera.
But yeah, the tree landing was good. That was an idea with Burki back then; we were skiing at Braunegg and it was snowing so beautifully. And with Burki, you can also... with Burkhard Martens, you can also often come up with ideas. Two of them just met on that day and then we realized it. I said, I'm going to fly right into it because the fir tree is shedding so nicely, and then we'll film it, and it's also nicely shed. I had to deal with the pendulum swing a bit before going in, the crash, and nothing happens if a fir tree is that snow-covered. I have friends in Lenkries who made a game out of jumping off a ramp on skis into trees like that. So a fir tree isn't that bad, but I'm wearing an integral helmet so that a branch doesn't somehow go into my eye or something.
Well, you said you've never hurt yourself while photography-related. But have you ever had a real crash while flying without the photography involved?
Yeah, that didn't go without happening, of course. I have to say, I was very lucky, especially at the beginning of my career. But it was also a different time back then. Yeah,
With the paraglider, it happened right at the beginning—I think it was 1994, about a year and a half after my training. I thought, "Now I'm going to make it and become world champion," and I bought a prototype for a ton of money, which was also sold to me. I have to mention that. I actually thought it was very irresponsible back then. And it was a harakiri device. It never got certified, and with that, it would have been the end for me every time. It was with a paraglider after a year and a half. I flew a lot, I certainly had talent, but no human was built for that purebred prototype from the nineties. I don't even think a full-blooded test pilot could handle it, because they were simply flawed designs. Yeah. But they were just sold.
So, to be honest, I'm still a bit annoyed about it because it could have been the end. At the time, it was very, very close and, well, with the kite during aerobatic maneuvers. But honestly, it was my mistake. I was there for Red Bull for some film shots, as a paraglider and stand-up pilot, and was supposed to launch from a hot air balloon. And then I had my kite, but not upside down—not upside down. It was rigged at the wrong angle. The angle wasn't steep enough under the basket, but flat, and then it doesn't work because the kite doesn't go into a dive, but it falls first. And because of the sweepback, there's this, this torque in the wrong direction, so too massive towards the front.
And then it's like a paper scrap effect. And that's what happened, and then the kite tags forward. And that happened to me. But I was still able to throw in a rescue. But that was of course my mistake. I should have informed myself better on how to approach a start from a hot air balloon like that. But we were just young and wild back then. That was with Guido, with Guido Germann, who was also hanging on a balloon. He is
but got out clean.
Yeah, "clean" isn't really clean. But he pulled it off.
And actually, yeah, exactly, he started first next to me. And I saw, oh no, we're hanging completely wrong. But that was actually quite interesting. I wouldn't do that anymore today. I saw very clearly with Guido, we both hooked on wrong. Him flat, me flat. He starts and it looked aerodynamically totally messy. He almost flipped over, was already negative, and the kite just barely caught. And then I actually should have called the whole thing off. I should have said, no, I'm not launching, we're hanging wrong. But you don't do that as a young, enthusiastic pilot. You think all the ultralights are swearing by you. They're all filming you. Then you're hanging from a hot air balloon, you're out there for Red Bull, and you think, now you're taking off with your career, and then you think to yourself, it'll be fine.
So, without all that pressure from the cameras and the whole thing, I would have said we're just gondolling somewhere to a meadow and I'm not starting here. But I thought, it'll be fine. Three, two, one, canopy and that was it, it didn't go well. But you only find that out when you get older. That you also have to say no sometimes.
Did you ever do a kite launch from a balloon again later, with the angle properly set, or was the lesson for you that something like that is just too risky, and you can't ultimately calculate or set it properly, whatever? I'd rather just leave that out.
No, I would have done it again back then because I knew what the problem was. So I would have just hung myself properly and it would have worked, like with all those cliff launches with the kite I did back then. It's simply a matter of the angle. With the kite, you just have to point the nose down and not jump straight out. So you just have to take the dive position when at the cliff or also when launching from the hot air balloon. But it didn't happen that I went back to hanging onto a hot air balloon with the kite, and I oriented myself differently, thought of other things instead.
Do you still fly kites today, or have you switched completely to paragliding?
I've actually switched completely. My last kite flight was four years ago, which is really a bit of a shame because it was somehow my whole life for a long time, or it ran in parallel, or it was actually the main thing before paragliding. It always ran in parallel for me. Yeah, it's just completely shifted to paragliding now, actually. But I don't want to say that I've stopped completely. I always get a bit nostalgic when I see kite flyers. And I still have my towerless kite flying. Kites, competition kites, I'll pack those out again at some point.
Nice. Let's do a little change of subject towards the end. You recently founded your own flight school, Prealpi, together with Reini Vollmers again.
Why are you starting a flight school again now? I mean, what appeals to you about a task like that?
Because being a flight instructor is a great job. I've actually worked as a flight instructor for about 20 years my whole life. And, well, time and again you eventually get the need to stop working as a flight student for someone else. It's also certainly a factor that I've gathered a lot of experience and that certain things regarding training look different than at other schools. And that I can do it better myself. That certainly plays a role too. And I don't regret it at all. Of course, there's a bit of administrative work coming our way. But with Reini—Reini Vollmer—he's really a very experienced pilot, an icon. Many people will know him; he's been flying forever and also has business experience.
I think that's a very good combination, or at least it's off to a very good start in any case. Yes, we have that. At the moment, we're specializing in advanced training and flight trips. So we're not doing initial training right now, but we're just starting. We also offer high-altitude flight training, but no basic courses yet. Do you still want to do that? I mean, do you want to offer basic courses at all? Yes, that—we're keeping our options open for that. I can imagine that very well. In my work as a flight instructor, regardless of which school, it's always been a great pleasure for me to train a complete beginner and to see the joy of how it starts at the beginning. And that joy when they do their first five-meter jump—I still remember that myself. Those are the main experiences at the beginning that you never forget. The first jump on the practice slope, then the first high-altitude flight—that's the one you never forget.
And then the first thermals flight. You usually never forget that either. Especially when you're a pilot and have a passion for the sport. And then comes the first cross-country flight. Those are actually the four main pillars. The jump, soaring, thermals, and cross-country. And the enthusiasm that you yourself experienced back then—we talked about the beginning of my own enthusiasm, I still remember it. And when you see that and can pass it on, it's a great feeling. So I think being a flight instructor is a great profession, I have to say clearly. In all respects. Including the fact that you take on responsibility. There are fewer and fewer professions nowadays where responsibility is taken on. People hand it off. Nobody wants to take on responsibility anymore. That's a sad development in my opinion.
And as a flight instructor, there's nothing left to do but take on responsibility. And I enjoy doing that. And people have to do that in this day and age too. That's very important. Because constantly pulling away from responsibility means, eventually, in all respects, stagnation—and in flying, it's also dangerous, because you no longer dare to pass on your knowledge for fear of making mistakes and getting sued, for fear of being sued, and so on. Like I said, taking on responsibility is fun for me and I enjoy doing it. You
you just said, well, I'm saying it a bit differently, but basically, at the end of the day, it's like, yeah, because I think I can do it better than some others, or better.
I don't want this to sound arrogant for God's sake or anything. From that...
...making the question better basically means doing it differently in the first place. So, what, how do you approach training differently than, say, many other schools would? Or where do you think training might need to run differently than how it's so commonly done in everyday life?
Yeah, I'm basically a fan of—not just in flying, but in general—education, safety through education, and further training, rather than through prohibitions. So that's one thing. I'm certainly not going to forbid anyone from trying something out, but I will give my advice and my opinion on it.
Then, I think it's also important when flying not to let the financial aspect get out of hand and not to see the participants of a flight trip or the flight students during their training as a cash cow. That's certainly not my motivation. I can't really justify that in terms of safety and a pilot's future. So, knowledge and practice are safety. We try to make sure people get a lot of flight time. That's what counts. Getting a lot of thermals flight time too, because that makes you better, safer, and provides further training. It's not the number of flights, it's the flight hours.
And Reini, for example, is like a walking aviation encyclopedia. He's top-notch on the theory. I'm not really that way; I have to be very clear, I'm not the expert when it comes to theoretical topics like aviation law and navigation. I'm a man of practice, but we complement each other very well there.
So, you're more of a...
more of a "gut feeling" pilot? Yeah, you could say that. I acquired my knowledge through my eyes and through practice. I didn't read any books. I asked good people back then and also had good people as mentors, like Karl Reichecker for example, who was Italy's best glider pilot and in my opinion maybe still is. And he took me under his wing at the beginning of my competitive flying with the glider. And then I traveled around with Karl all the time and learned an insane amount from him. I owe a lot to Karl Reichecker, definitely. And? Yeah, that's also somewhat why I have my own flight school, because I experienced what it's like to be taken under someone's wing.
And as a pilot, you need that to pursue a career safely. You need someone to guide you a bit and take you by the hand. Otherwise, I think it's a bit of a risky business. So if you imagine doing 40 flights without ever seeing thermals, and then you get a license that lets you fly all over the world at any time of day or year.
Do you already have the experience to be able to do that? It's difficult. I mean, you actually need ongoing support privately or within the framework of a flight school, I think, to make a living safely as a pilot.
From everything you tell me and what I read in your reports and stuff, I always think, yeah, you're the gut-feeling pilot who really decides whether to fly or not, or something else, based on your gut. Now, something like a gut feeling has a lot to do with experience. You have 30 years of experience now, and you've probably been through all sorts of weather. But how can you lead a student who comes to you, how can you get them to develop at least part of that necessary gut feeling, perhaps relatively quickly?
By me or us trying to develop an eye in him. Developing an eye for the external impressions, so that you try to use your senses when flying and rely less on measuring instruments and computer programs. That is simply absolute basic, basic in terms of safety too, that you use your eyes, read cloud patterns—that people need to be sensitized in that regard. For me, that's actually the best meteorology lesson out there. If there are clouds, you can explain everything, even large-scale weather patterns; it's not rocket science, but you have to train it a bit and you have to have it explained to you somehow. I've always done it that way too; of course, there's a lot of experience involved.
But it's worth much more to interpret and read the local weather with your own eyes than to somehow internalize some wind values and data from a phone that circulate all over the world and can be faulty. And to then... when you make a flight plan for the day, I mean, a weather forecast isn't bad, a basic satellite image for the next few days is useful, for God's sake. But I believe no computer can replace the eye. Just an example, so this, let's say, sharpening the senses again, simply that you don't forget to use your senses when flying, that's important. Does that come in the
...maybe a bit too briefly in classical flight training?
I think so, yeah.
Because it also costs time. It's always this dilemma. Monitoring the weather and going into it a bit and explaining it to yourself costs time. Of course, it's faster to just memorize the exam questions and tick the boxes.
But you also have to factor in a flight school, there's no need to talk about that. That's just how it is. The solution, like with everything, I think is a compromise.
From your experience, how often do you encounter people—among the different pilots you meet—who actually have the willingness to engage with this so intensively? Sometimes I get the impression, even when I give certain advanced courses or things in the meteorology field, that a lot of people always say, "Yeah, I just want it spoon-fed to me." Then I hear it once and I'm supposed to know it, and then after three weeks I've already forgotten most of it. But I don't bother looking into it anymore; it's just like, "Okay, that's how it is," and then I go flying, I see the others flying too, and I just go flying without giving it any more thought.
Yes, that development is certainly observable. That the interest might not be there as much in this day and age. It's always hard to say if it was better in the past—what does better mean, different, I guess. But it's a bit like... maybe the lack of maturity has grown in recent years. This handing over of responsibility, which we already touched on, and not taking it on yourself, is also a thing. People rely on the fact that the glider with the classification will bring them down safely. They don't really ask if that might not be the case. That's a trend in this day and age. But nevertheless, you always find people who do take that upon themselves.
Don't be a hall lawyer about flying.
Rather, it's about the fact that you just fly up there and that there's a potential for danger. And that you then start thinking for yourself, oh, I actually have to be a bit careful and I need to gain more experience with the wind and weather. But it seems to me that the awareness kicks in relatively quickly if there's interest.
How do you feel about technology? I mean, nowadays there are already these amazing apps where you can call them up during the flight and say, oh, it's already raining back there or I don't know, and 37 flight wind values, what exactly is the Patschakofel doing and so on, so I can already access everything during the flight today. Do you use something like that? Yes, Lucian, there
you're making a huge fuss now, Lucian.
No, I don't use that kind of thing at all. I also think it's dangerous to get too fixated on it, because you lose your practical perspective. I also think it's dangerous to rely too much on technology regarding the variometer and GPS. When your senses are constantly on the device instead of in the airspace. We currently have the risk of collision, which is always a topic in all training courses, including with the THV and so on, and it's justified. But a main reason is this fixation on technical information, on devices. So in my opinion, we should move away from that more and reactivate some common sense again. I think that's important. But you fly...
do you always fly without it?
Are you always without one? When I go on a route, of course with a Vario. It provides some basic functions, of course, that you need there. So ground speed and for centering at high altitude, the climb rates too, so that you center a wide thermal in the altitude cleanly and climb effectively. Of course, that's a huge aid, that's quite clear. But I use it as an aid and not as a dictate. I don't use it as a dictate for my flight.
And I also mostly fly in the mountains. If I'm mountaineering now, I only fly with a beeper that runs on solar power. That's easy, and you still climb regardless. And honestly, after all these years, I don't actually care during mountaineering whether the base is at 3,200 or 3,100. It's just nice up there and I think to myself, "It's going great today." But at the beginning, that's obviously interesting information. Like, how big was my strongest climb today and so on. That's also something great, being able to read that off. But you have to be careful, especially with the data from wind stations and so on.
It's incredible how many people drive themselves crazy over this, and also pressure differences for diagrams and all that. I mean, if you open your eyes, are flight windows still possible in certain regions during enormous pressure differences? You shouldn't necessarily propagate that or say it out loud. But it's like this: we're now flying in microclimates, like in the Stubaital, which has always been quite sheltered during Föhn. Also in Lüsen, where Papillon forms in South Tyrol. That's a microclimate that still holds up for a long time during strong northern conditions or Föhn conditions. And it's the same on the southern side of the Alps, where I live now. Where the thermal system holds its own against the regional wind, and for a very, very long time at that.
And sometimes the thermal system is even stronger when the regional wind is running against it. So, these are all meteorological factors; it's all a bit more complex than just air pressure south versus north. And now Föhn, now not. You can't just say it like that. Especially nowadays, with the course of climate change, we're dealing with more complex weather patterns. That's an additional factor too. So, you have to constantly rethink things.
So you've basically had a flying career of 30 years, or almost 30 years if I've calculated it correctly, under your belt. Where do you see your flying path going in the next ten years?
I just go with the flow, as usual, depending on my mood. So, at the moment, I've had this desire since last year to open a flight school. And to do it as well as possible. And that's also a very good step to take.
And for a while now, I've been back into cross-country flying. I'm happy that I was able to get used to two-liner technology, which was a step, I have to say. It didn't happen very quickly for me at all. After all these years, because it's a completely new construction, flying a two-liner and basically flying actively with the handles. That meant, at least for me, retraining all my instincts. So I really had to impose a kind of training plan on myself so that I wouldn't reflexively grab the brake all the time, but stay on the handles. And that's what interests me a lot at the moment. Basically, flying a two-liner in all conditions everywhere with one hundred percent certainty on cross-country flights is actually what I'm...
Especially for workers, flying efficiently also means flying fast and accelerated, so flying out. A profile where
You're talking about two-liners right now, and these handles and stuff—those used to be the two-liners. Those were only the competition gliders. Nowadays, that goes all the way down into the HB categories, where you now have two or two-and-a-half liners, but in terms of control technology, they're basically controlled almost like a two-liner. Isn't there actually a need for training there too? Because people are buying these devices now, they just get them freely. But in school, they never learn how to actually use such a thing or how to do it properly. And there, instead, it's all... everyone has to do a bit of learning by doing with the whole story.
Yeah, that's definitely the case. So much has changed in the development, and maybe that needs to be adjusted a bit. Yeah, even from the ground up. I visited my friend Paul Takkerts in Colombia last year. He's certainly a name people know. Yeah,
the accordion.
Paul Takkerts is an accordion, mainly a cross-country pilot. And he said that the future of paragliding at some point would only be control with the rear risers. There would be no more brakes. You can just let a vision like that hang in the air for now. But it's not completely far-fetched, because it's simply a more effective way to fly the glider. So it's already on the way, and accordingly, there will be some demand to clarify that a bit. That
but it's nothing you currently offer as Prä-Alpi, like saying we offer a 2.5-line BC control course or something. That's an idea,
I'll write that down. That might be why not, but we don't have that in the plan yet. No, usually, I mean, we don't just train professionals in our school, of course; these are, let's say, average pilots, hobby pilots, who also need a safe framework. In that sense, there aren't any pilots starting out with two-liners, usually. Not yet. Let's see what comes.
No, not that. But development is already heading in that direction—at least regarding the control technology—it's increasingly being included in the lower classes as well. There's already something like a 777 Night 2, which also has a fully equipped CB control with redirection and all that. That's possible. Simultaneously. Where you can really say, okay, if you don't use it, you actually have distracting wobbling on the riser and have to say that's rather counterproductive if a pilot doesn't use it at all. But if he does use it, then he should know how to handle it or how the whole thing works. But from what I've gathered so far, they aren't being introduced to this strong technical development. So I definitely see a need for further training, certainly for some.
Or what do you mean by training needs? Simply a need for training. And where you might learn more about certain things—maybe with a bit of guidance, you'd probably get the hang of such things faster and then pick up more on where there are actually safety advantages for flying in the end.
Yes, that would certainly be interesting to pass on to the people who actually design the curricula. That's definitely a good point, to talk to Anselm and Peter. You
You have the contacts there too. Anselm, a good friend of yours—well, not really, but talk to him about it too, maybe something will happen. Felix, thank you for this super interesting conversation.
Yeah, thanks. That's how it ends for now.
...to the end. You've had an amazing life so far with all those great experiences internationally. We could have definitely talked for three hours because you've already traveled to so many countries and experienced so many adventures in each of them. Maybe we'll just do this again at a later date. Then I'll invite you again and we'll go over a few more of your great adventures.
Yes, gladly. It was a pleasure. I wish everyone who listened a great aviation career and to keep learning, but in small steps, as I always say. One step that's too big can be too much for someone. But also don't stagnate, keep moving forward
...learning. Then you become a safer, better pilot. A step that's too big is usually an emotional one. An emotional one, if not two emotional steps back, and then for a long time you don't dare to do much again. Yes. And you have to be careful with that. Exactly. Alright, Felix. Thanks for the talk. See you next time. Thanks, everyone, and see you soon on this channel. Ciao, ciao.
Podz-Glidz is a podcast that belongs to my paraglider blog Lu-Glidz. You can also find the show notes for this episode, number 80 Inferno with Felix Welk, there. These include several further links as always. Ciao. Lu-Glidz is completely ad-free online at www.Lu-Glidz.blogspot.com. Lu-Glidz is spelled L -U -G -L -I -D -Z. If you enjoy listening to Podz-Glidz, then please recommend the podcast. For example, with a good rating on Apple Podcasts or Spotify, a post on Facebook or Instagram, or best of all, simply in a direct conversation with your flying friends. You can help Podz-Glidz and Lu-Glidz even more by supporting me and my work financially as a patron. A very simple rule applies to that.
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See you next time. Ciao.