That joy that reigns at the landing field when you fly a task into the goal for the first time, land, and everyone is just happy with you. For me, that's the biggest difference compared to cross-country flying, where you land alone somewhere in a field at the end of the day and maybe feel happy in the evening in the XContest, okay, I have the most points, the furthest kilometers, but in my eyes, it's actually relatively lonely.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with Eli
Egger and
I'm Lucian Haas.
A constant trend in the paragliding scene is saving weight. Everything is somehow getting lighter. So, what the Austrian Eli Eggert tells us in this 92nd episode of Podz-Glidz might sound completely anachronistic. When the 27-year-old starts a paragliding competition, she doesn't want to be lighter, but heavier. I won't reveal right away how much ballast she ultimately packs onto her body and into her harness. Maybe everyone can make a guess while listening. The mystery will then be solved in the podcast. Just as Eli also tells us there why she puts herself through this extra weight at all and what that has to do with her successes in competition flying. Among other things, she recently came in 3rd place in the women's category at the European Championship in Nis, Serbia.
Perhaps even more impressive: since 2017, Eli has consistently won the cross-country flight ranking in the Austrian XContest every year. Eli participated in international competitions even in her youth. At that time, however, it was on a horse in eventing. That's why we also talk about the similarities between riding and flying. Furthermore, she talks about how she learned to measure the world during her studies and how that shapes her approach to flying.
Eli, my first question might be considered a bit inappropriate for women, but I have to ask it anyway because it simply serves the topic. How tall are you and what do you weigh?
Well, I'm not 1.60m, I'm 1.58m, and I currently weigh a bit more, 55kg.
What glider size do you fly with that weight?
So in competition, I'm using the New York X1, and its weight range is listed here up to 105kg.
And what's the lowest range?
I think 90kg.
And in which weight range do you fly that? Do you let it go until you reach 105kg?
I usually fly between 98kg and 100kg. So I take that much ballast with me to reach that weight.
So that's at least 30kg of ballast you're taking with you, or how much is that?
Well, a bit more, so 45kg. 45kg,
that you're hauling around in addition?
The complete equipment weighs 45kg. The dead weight I carry is 4kg of lead plates, a 7kg lead vest, and about 8 liters of water again, plus 2 heavy rescues and extra batteries. Everything you might possibly need in terms of gear.
If you have to walk from the bus to the launch site for a PWC competition or something like that, do you haul all that yourself, or is there always some strong guy who says, "Come on Eli, give it here, I can't just watch you do that"?
Usually, it's like this: I can carry it myself if I have to. So, with my vest on, the water ballast separate, and the bagsack on my back. It's just that in competitions, when I have the water ballast separate and the bagsack on my back, I keep finding gentlemen who take some of it off me. Mostly the water, but also the vest. But in the worst-case scenario, I've also carried it myself up 200 meters of altitude.
45 kilos. That's really... well, then aviation really is a sport. Then it's not just Hike and Fly anymore, but Hike and Drag and Fly for you.
Something like that, yeah. I think I'm the little ant among the flyers. If things get really bad, I go twice. So first with the gear without the ballast. And then a second time with the ballast.
I just watched a few videos the other day where some of your launches are shown. Or was it a launch, specifically at a World Cup? I'd say, in comparison to others, it didn't look all that elegant. But that's probably because you actually have to accelerate those 40 kilos somehow, get them moving with you, and lift out of there. So you were basically pushed backwards, and you just fell into the short stuff, so to speak, as a "short-growth" [launch]. After the launch, does it really happen to you that all the lead pulls you into the seat?
Definitely. I mean, I have the 7-kilo vest on right now, and the rest of the ballast is mostly under the seat board inside. That means as soon as the glider starts to carry, it actually levers quite well into the seat board. So it immediately pulls your feet upwards, and then you should
...to fly. How unpleasant is it to fly with that much ballast?
I can't recommend it to anyone. I mean, I envy anyone who has the chance to be just big and strong and heavy. But the problem is simply that, on one hand, smaller gliders become extremely demanding to fly—meaning they become aggressive to fly—and the performance is correspondingly much worse. For me, it's currently not worth flying a smaller glider where I have more difficult conditions controlling the glider and also have worse performance on top of that.
How much of a disadvantage is it, in your experience, as a light pilot? Are you at a disadvantage if you're really light? I mean, with the normal weight you'd have?
Strong. So at the beginning, when I flew along, for example with my last glider, it was a size smaller. That's not a problem in zero wind, but as soon as you go against the wind, you lose 200 to 300 meters of altitude with every crossing. Which then simply means that if you have two meters of bad weather, you're 100 seconds behind again. So already over a minute and a half. Yeah, it just adds up with every crossing.
So, do all the light pilots at PWC load up just like you do? I mean, maybe some of the lighter ones have five kilos more weight or something, but do they all still fly with lead and water and all that?
A lot, yes. I mean, there are suggestions to introduce a Reynolds class, so for light pilots. But the problem there is simply that the Reynolds class often goes up to 90 kilos in many cases. And that would already be another 36 kilos for me. Yes, additional weight. And then I'd rather just take 46 and fly a glider that's easier to fly.
Do you still have any advantages as a light pilot in some situations?
The advantage you have is when conditions are extremely weak. You can dump two or three liters of water once and simply have the option to play with the weight you're carrying. That you can fly heavy once on good, strong days, but also be two or three kilos lighter when it's more about grinding out a climb of, say, 0.1 meters per second.
And then you also really decide in the air, okay, I'll turn on the tap now and let out about a liter? Or how does that work? Or is that already the decision before the start, knowing that it's a weak day?
Both. So if you already assume beforehand that it's a weak day, I'm basically traveling about one and a half to two kilos lighter. But yeah, I also have the option to dump water in the air. That's something I do anyway before landing, just so I don't have to carry eight kilos less when I take off again. In the air, it's always a bit of a trade-off. Because I'm not flying at the very top of the weight range, I'm generally always traveling lighter than others with the same glider size. That's why I usually rarely dump any more water, except for the landing. Because I always think, okay, maybe at the beginning of the task the conditions are weak, but then there's another hour, maybe two hours, where the day might develop better, stronger values come in, and you just get significantly slower the lighter you are traveling.
That's competition flying. If you're flying for yourself or just going cross-country, do you take the same gear? I mean, if you're really saying, I want to do performance cross-country and maybe win the Austrian XT Championship again at the end or something. For those kinds of flights, do you also load up with those 35 kilos, or do you have a smaller glider and just go with different gear?
It depends. On the really big days, where you're talking 200 kilometers plus, I actually prefer flying with the competition gear because it's just fun. But for fun flying, like hike and fly, I also have an X-Hubs setup, so a Climber with a light cross-country harness. So for most of the smaller cross-country flights I do, I fly with the Climber.
You mentioned this Reynolds class earlier—would you fundamentally advocate for introducing something like that? Whether it's Reynolds class or something else where they say weight should be introduced as a relative factor, or simply saying there are certain weight class ranges where they say, okay, there are factors. For example, BGD has a competition format where they organize a competition called BGD Weightless, where they say we'll do it, put in corresponding weight classes, where then sometimes the buoys are perhaps chosen a bit larger and one person then has to fly 100 meters less deep into somewhere and thus quasi balances it out again, and stuff like that. Would you consider something like that sensible?
It could make the sport fairer, yes. But I think the implementation would be extremely difficult because I see it in myself too—if I have the choice between flying a smaller glider with less ballast or a larger glider with less ballast but carrying more weight for it, I personally prefer flying the larger one because the gliders are nicer to fly. The larger the glider, the more pleasant it is in the air.
If you could choose, let's say, just for flying, a dream height and a dream weight—if a flying wish fairy came along and you said, "For this competition, I'd like to be size XY," what would that be? What kind of guy would you be then?
So probably 1.80 meters tall and about 80 kilos.
That would be considered ideal, even in terms of size selection. Why not even heavier, if you say the large sizes are actually more pleasant to fly? Why not a 100-kilo man who—or what do you mean man, anyway, with a body where you'd say 100 kilos well-trained—then the corresponding large glider comes into play?
Because there's also an upper limit for the large gliders, where you get gliders up to 130 kilos plus or minus, and with competition gear, even without ballast, you quickly hit 25, 27, or 28 kilos. That means you're already at those 30 kilos. And that means for everyone who weighs over 100 kilos, it's not that easy anymore to find the right glider. And on top of that, I don't just like flying competition; I also like hiking up the mountain. And there, you just notice every extra kilo you have to carry up.
How did you actually get into flying and then into competition? How did you get into flying? Tell me your story.
Principally, it all started during a family vacation in Ramsau am Dachstein. And there, you could do a free trial day at the Aufwind flight school. That's where I flew down the practice slope for the first time, if you want to put it that way, or jumped down. And yeah, that's where it hooked me. That was back when I was 14. And then over the next few years, I started doing the training. I couldn't afford to do it myself on the side of school... not afford it. And that's why the deal with Anna, the senior manager of the flight school, was that I'd work at the flight school, as a secretary in the office, and in return, she could finance my training or my first glider, my first piece of my own equipment. And one of the flight instructors...
So you were 14 or 15, and you did it on the side—you probably still had school, and in the afternoon you'd go to the flight school and say, okay, now I'll do some secretarial work and other stuff to finance your training.
Exactly, mainly. And then in the summer, I originally come from Southern Styria and Ramsau is in Upper Styria, which is already a two-hour drive. So, for the first few years, I limited my paragliding career to the summer and actually only flew in the summer. And that only changed a bit once I started studying, so when I turned 19, that I also started flying more in the winter. And one of the flight instructors at Offend, Josi, he was sort of my flight dad, and he kept talking about competition flying. He told me how great it is and how quickly you don't learn, that the community is really fun and there are so many great pilots out there. And then for his 50th birthday, I signed us both up for a competition.
And that's how it all started.
You had both of you, he knew nothing about it. You then said, Josi, listen, I've signed us up, we're going to the competition now.
Exactly, so I actually only told him in the Zillertal. I said, keep this weekend free, we're going flying together. Exactly. Exactly. Then we drove to the Zillertal and once we were there, he was wondering why there were so many other pilots. And then he already knew about it anyway.
But he had already flown in many competitions before that too.
Exactly, yeah. But he hadn't actually been in competition for ten years. Yeah, so I brought him back from retirement for a few competitions. But now I'm allowed to go to the competitions alone again.
Did this first competition get you so hooked that you said, "I want more of this"?
Exactly, yes. Above all, it's just this joy that prevails at the landing field when you fly a task into the goal for the first time and land inside. And everyone is just happy with you. For me, that's the biggest difference from cross-country flying, where you land alone somewhere in a field at the end of the day and then maybe feel happy in the XContest in the evening. Okay, I have most of the points, the furthest kilometers, but in my eyes, it's actually relatively lonely. And with competition flying, it's exactly the opposite. Even if you land on the outside, you're rarely the only one. You get picked up again and in the evening everyone sits down together again, discusses it, and gets tips from others. And that's also why the learning curve goes up so extremely fast with competition flying.
So, for you, is paragliding actually ideally a community sport?
Yeah, for sure. So that's definitely one of the points—thermals in competition flying are motivating. Even in the air, when you're suddenly in the same thermals as pilots you know. And I just get happy, okay, cool, Sommi is in the same thermal now, for example, or the Eichholzer Heli. Those are moments where I just notice to myself, okay, this motivates me, I want to keep going.
Well, competition flying also always means you want to, or you have to, but you probably also want to measure yourself against others. And see, okay, I'm climbing better now or I'm faster, and I used to be in the goal or whatever. Where does that come from for you? Where does the desire to measure yourself against others come from for you?
I think that's partly due to my character. I've been more of a competitive type from a young age, let's put it that way. That was already back in my youth when I was still doing tournaments with the horse, because I just like the direct comparison, where you can see for yourself, okay, where I stand, where I can still get better? And just to see in a direct comparison, okay, XY is better in the thermals, what is... what is that person doing differently, where can I work on myself even more, get even better?
Just a quick side question, it just occurred to me. You said when you were still competing with the horse. Tell me about that, what did you do back then?
I had a Haflinger cross and did eventing. So that's dressage, cross-country, and then jumping—basically all three disciplines—and I competed there both nationally and internationally. I also competed in national competitions.
But that was already in your youth. I mean, you said you started paragliding at 14. At that point, you were already riding, too. Or were you already competing back then as well?
Exactly, actually even before that. I started doing tournaments with the horse at 12, and then when I started studying at 19, I retired the horse. And that's why I suddenly had time to fly my paraglider.
So you traded the horse for the paraglider.
You could put it that way, yeah.
Now it might be difficult to compare the two, but if you... if you had the choice to either only ride or only fly, which path would you choose?
That's a very difficult question because it's hard to compare, because a horse isn't just a piece of sports equipment, it's also a comrade, a buddy. It's simply a living being that needs attention in addition to the sport. So, starting with grooming, cleaning, saddling, the vet, etc. But accordingly, it's also associated with extremely high costs. Regardless of whether you're currently... competing, whether the horse is healthy or if the horse is lame—meaning injured—and you can't ride for two months, the costs don't suddenly become less. And that is the advantage of paragliding, in my opinion. If you don't feel like flying for a month, you put it in the corner and it doesn't matter to it. But not looking after your horse for a month, that's just not possible.
You have a completely different responsibility towards the animal.
My wife also rides. And sometimes from what she tells me—I mean, she flies too, but she's riding a lot more now. And what she always tells me about how she handles the animal or what she feels or something like that, I sometimes see that in parallel with flying too. Because sometimes it's also about that going with it, working with the weight, and other things, basically telling the horse where to go with very slight movements without doing much with the reins and stuff like that. Would you say you've taken anything from your riding and the... you say you did dressage and stuff, where you actually ride with very, very subtle cues? Have you carried any of that over into paragliding?
Yes, you could definitely say that. Mainly because both riding and paragliding are full-body sports involving a lot of instability and so on. And then there's the sensitivity, the flow, simply knowing your own body and knowing what's actually happening at that moment. I mean, paragliding is more than just sitting and pulling left and right.
Would you also say that you have some advantages over others who don't ride or haven't ridden, based on your experience with the horse?
Maybe in terms of balance. That you don't let yourself get thrown off balance by unexpected movements that a horse can just make because it's a living being and it suddenly spook. All those bracing mechanisms that we actually shouldn't use at all when working, that... if you tilt away, you keep your hands up. It's similar in riding, when you have to use your body and arms and reins independently of each other.
Are you perhaps a particularly elegant flyer because of that? I can imagine it—I know some pilots who fly with very little, and by "little" I mean, in relative terms to others, much less brake input and much less steering, because they use their bodies so subtly that the wing already does what they actually want. And then you only have to give a tiny bit of input and everything is basically perfectly in line. Would you say that's something you can also learn from riding and then transfer over?
Yes, I think you can take quite a bit from that. I mean, my launch technique isn't the most refined, as I said, due to my weight. But otherwise in the air, the more sensitive you are with the glider, the better it is in the end.
Now you also said regarding riding that you can't handle the glider as much anymore, but you were a competition rider. Did you enjoy those competitions in riding as much as you enjoy paraglider competitions? Or was that something else?
Yes, it was. Competition, for one thing, this measuring yourself against others, certainly stays the same. And also the community—both in eventing and in paragliding, it's a manageable scene, if you will. So, we have about 150 pilots at the competition. It was pretty similar in scale in tournament riding as well. And yes, I definitely enjoyed that atmosphere there too. Because in terms of format, eventing tournaments are always over a weekend, so two or three days. Just like paragliding competitions.
Is it actually similar to paragliding? I mean, how important is the choice of equipment—in this case, the horse? And to what extent is the pilot, and perhaps their mindset, the deciding factor that actually helps you end up at the top?
Neither is unimportant. I mean, as a good rider or a good pilot, you can get an extreme amount out of a horse that isn't that great—like my 1,000-euro pony I had back then—if you're comfortable with the equipment and can completely exploit situations that others wouldn't dare fly into or even start with the horse because it overwhelms their own skills. Nevertheless, a point is eventually reached where you have to upgrade your equipment, where a pony just isn't enough anymore to move up to the next class. When the obstacles simply become bigger than the horse, no matter how well the pony can jump, it just reaches its physical limits.
And I see the same thing in paragliding: pilots who have their glider well under control—whether it's an A, B, or C glider—and who simply have good technique and know where to find the next thermals, can achieve extremely good results with these gliders. Then, in the top tier, when you move towards World Championships, World Cups, etc., where the skill of all the pilots is extremely high, the material becomes significantly more decisive because the difference in ability between the individual pilots is no longer that large and major mistakes simply don't happen anymore.
But if you look at the paragliding scene now, the pilots are all flying N to 3 and basically all have the same glider. Most of them also have the same harness. Then there's maybe the Submarine from Ozone, where you'd say, okay, not that many pilots have that. The ones flying it might have a slight aerodynamic advantage, you could see it that way. But still, in terms of material, it's somehow similar, let's say. That means, in the end, it's the pilot who is decisive. In which areas would you say you stand out compared to the others to achieve such good placement?
One point where I think I'm quite strong is in tactics. Just thinking about, okay, when do I keep going, when do I stay, and when do I turn even higher. That I simply make decisions based on PULG—where are the others heading? But I also see for myself, okay, sometimes PULG is talking nonsense and I still rely on my own skills, saying, okay, there's the cloud street, it goes along there, it's going to go up again; that you can read the clouds, that you can read the terrain. That's definitely something that comes relatively easily to me, that I don't just stupidly follow behind, but actually think about what's happening ahead of time. That's definitely a point where I might be better than others. And I notice it when cranking for thermals, that I'm actually rarely left behind by anyone in the thermals.
So I'm actually pretty good at getting into the lift, or even getting up better than the others.
What's the reason for that? What's your trick? What's the tip you could give to others? How do you turn so that you're rarely out-turned?
You have to distinguish a bit between competition and cross-country flying, because in competition, you have a lot of orientation based on other pilots. If you just keep an eye on the others and see, okay, the pilot in front of me is clearly climbing five meters ahead, you expand the circle a bit further. If you see, okay, he's sinking downwards, you close the circle earlier. So you have more information there than if you're flying a route alone. And then it's about simply finding the center as accurately as possible, also recognizing when the thermals let up again. That you don't do two circles in the zero or maybe already in the sink and miss the fact that the thermals are actually already over.
That would be the tactic of exploiting the thermals. When do I enter or where do I exit again, and so on. Are there also specific, let's say, steering techniques or anything else where you'd say there are peculiarities that you've understood for yourself, which others might not have understood as well?
I simply distinguish between strong and weak thermals; in strong thermals, I tuck the glider in significantly tighter because I say the lift, which I can center better, compensates for my sink rate more effectively. In contrast, when it's very weak, I try to turn extremely weakly. So, sometimes even putting weight on the outside and braking the inside brake inward to work as much as possible over the stabilizer and let the glider fly relatively free as a whole. That I strive to use as little brake as possible. What we already had before. Because the more speed, the more lift the glider can generate.
In your preparation for this, you also wrote to me that you've been dealing more and more lately with questions regarding the mental approach to such competitions, the mental attitude, the mental work, and things like that. What is that, for example? What is interesting to you about these points?
I've simply noticed in myself that if my head is still somewhere else, whether it's work, university, etc., I don't perform well in competitive sports. That means even if you think, okay, I'm at the competition now and I'm focusing on the competition, you can't just switch off your whole life around you. For me, it's actually about being aware on one hand that you know, okay, this and that is still in my head, still to be done, but also consciously making sure that I've finished all my work before a competition. So if there are still open points, whether it's in the flight school, at work, they are either finished enough that I can hand them over to someone else,
but I don't want to enter the competition with the thought that this and that still needs to be done. That's one point. And the other point is that you also make a plan beforehand of what you expect from this competition, where you can play to your strengths. Start by, for example, looking at the terrain beforehand, looking at old flights, what has already been flown there in a competitive sense, so that you simply prepare yourself for the conditions. But then go further in the sense that you might be out in this competition area one or two days before to get a feel for the area. On the other hand, I'm someone who likes to start extremely early. That means an hour, sometimes even earlier, before the race even starts, because for me, that's that hour to sort out my head.
That I leave all the problems on the ground and prepare myself for the day, and then, fifteen minutes before the race start, I switch into race mode and then we go.
So, you start early to fly freely and say, okay, then I'm there. Do you also kind of, since you mention preparation and stuff, write a lot of that down? Or do you have things stuck on the cockpit that say, for example, focus on yourself now, or it's only about the race, or I don't know what? And if so, what techniques do you use for that?
So, on one hand, I have a list of individual points—actually tips from other pilots—that I just wrote down and read through again and again as a reminder of this and that kind of thinking. Then yes, those memos on the cockpit do help. And right now, I have "Smile" on the cockpit because there's just a story behind it. And because it's just important to stay positive, even if you've made a mistake. Because personally, the more grumpy or angry I get in the air, the worse I fly. And that's where this "Smile" comes from, to say, okay, that was a mistake, but the competition goes on and it's not over yet.
Tell me the exact story behind the "Smile." You just hinted at it, apparently you got incredibly angry somewhere and probably got out of the race because of it or something. But what exactly happened?
So it was in Serbia at the last European Championship. Missed some thermals, flew behind. And instead of actually gaining some height to catch up, I just kept following the pack deeper and deeper and deeper until eventually it got too low and I just stalled. It's simply because the angrier I get, the less patience I have. That's not one of my great strengths either. And then one of the coaches said to me at the launch site the next day, "Smile, don't be angry." That was enough of a reminder that when you get low, getting grumpy doesn't achieve anything, but that you have to stay calm and power up again.
And the more fun I personally have in the air, the better I fly.
Is patience a virtue for competition pilots?
You should work on it. Because there are simply moments where impatience gets punished. Especially in many cases, the problem is when you're ahead or have a good position. And then, for example, the weather conditions change. First, it's insanely strong conditions, and then you fly into a large shadow. Especially if you were ahead at the start, you tend to want to just push forward, keep flying. And then you're actually the one drawing the line for the others. And that's where patience comes in, where you say, okay, I have a good position now. I'll wait so that everyone shares the work. So that three or four of us fly ahead together. You don't always have to be the first one to do that.
Are you good at that, or do you still fall into the habit of sometimes flying ahead when you're in that situation?
I'm getting better.
That's definitely another point I can work on. Once you have a good position, you don't lose it again. You
You just said you have a list of tips that you also got from other pilots. Which one is your favorite, where you'd say it touches you, for whatever reason, personally the most?
I think it's the one about noticing other pilots in the air and using them as a source of information, but still thinking for yourself and not just blindly following them, but using the information. While still trusting your own gut feeling.
How much do you decide with your gut and how much with your head?
Probably 70 percent head, 30 percent gut.
Is that a good measure?
I can't say. It doesn't work that badly.
Of the various successes you've had in competition flying, which one is the one you're most particularly proud of?
I think it's the third place at the World Cup in Colombia this spring. Was that third place overall?
Or among the women? With the girls,
overall 46. Because that was the first time I was out with the New York, with the new competition glider, and I suddenly saw that I could fly along with them. That if I have the same material, I can be out there together with the lead pilot and not just fly behind anymore, but actually keep up. And that I learned to follow better routes. Because I often had a worse glider, which simply gave me the opportunity to fly just as well at the front.
Speaking of finding routes and things like that. You've chosen a field of study that I'd say is very unusual, at least by its name. Geodesy. Tell me, what is that actually, and how did you end up studying it?
So, basically, geodesy is surveying, navigation, GPS. So everything involving determining your own location or, for example, finding the fastest route from A to B. Or, for instance, it also includes difficult field measurements. So geodesy is the surveying of the world as a whole. And I got into it in a very unspectacular way because both of my parents studied the same thing. So it's in the family. And for me, it's simply the combination of mathematics and... also our planet, which is what makes the combination so beautiful for me.
Often, when you see what your parents do, you say, "I want to do something different" or something like that. What was it about what you saw your parents doing that made you say, "Oh, I want to do something like that too"?
So, my parents were in classical land surveying, so civil engineers. And there you just have the combination of computer work, where you create plans and incorporate old plans. But then you're also out in the field, outdoors. Exactly those boundaries that you've drawn on paper, re-marking them in nature, dealing with people, renegotiating boundaries. And simply this variety you have in that job was why I said I was going to start studying. And in the end, I realized that this degree is much more than just cadaster or engineering geodesy, but that it's much more broadly branched. And ultimately, for my master's thesis, I combined paragliding with my studies because in my master's thesis I did route optimization for X-Alps routes—basically exactly what I did for Aron Durogatti during the last two X-Alps—so that I can actually tell my computer now: it's faster, you go up this mountain and then fly back down, or you go around the outside.
That was your master's thesis, where you said, okay, I'm going to program a routing for Hike and Fly, so to speak. Exactly. And what did your professors say? Was it an idea that was perhaps a bit off-the-beaten-path for a master's thesis?
That's actually the nice thing about the program because we're relatively small. That means the professors were actually pretty enthusiastic about the idea of doing something different, of combining these things. The difficulty is just explaining paragliding to someone who has no idea about paragliding and why you need certain parameters. He starts with launch sites, why you can't take off from every launch site every day, that you have to take the wind into account. And so on. These are just things that are obvious to a paraglider yourself, but that I obviously had to teach my professors at the university first, so to speak.
You said you wrote a program for this that can basically do the routing. Does it also include factors like weather, so you can say, for example, I have a 20-knot north wind, and then you know that with a 20-knot north wind, all the south launch sites are basically ruled out because they're probably in the lee or something?
Exactly. That's included there. So, in the first step, I simply calculated launch sites based on the terrain model and land use. Like, is it a meadow, is it forest, etc. First of all, in that first step, I looked at, okay, what options for starting and landing are there at all? Which orientations—north, south, east, west, or the directions in between? And then, in the second step, I looked at, okay, how far can I get from which launch site? So, everything was calculated for the first time in the glide angle range and then linked with the road network. And just as you correctly said, I can set whether we have a north wind, then only north launch sites are selected, or you can also say, okay, there's snow above 2,000 meters, I have to stay below that, then all the launch sites above that are filtered out again.
So there are several settings to adapt it as much as possible to the respective needs.
And is this a program that's available for free in some way, or are you saying, no, I have it on my laptop, it's basically my own proprietary knowledge that I have there? And with the X-apps, I was able to apply it for Aaron.
Right now, it's just on my laptop. I'm still debating with myself whether it will ever be made public again, because it's already quite computationally intensive. And the question is whether there's a market for it. With my master's thesis, I showed that it's definitely doable and yields meaningful results. But whether it's economically viable to make something like that public—that's a different story.
When did you finish this master's thesis?
Finished it this summer, and the master's defense is on October 10th.
Oh, it's still before October 10th. So first of all, I wish you the best of luck that everything goes well. But if I understand correctly, when you say you've only just finished it, that means during the two times you were there with Aaron Dorogati as a supporter, you didn't have this program yet?
By the second time, the prototype was already running. So, I already had results for the first part. But in the end, my master's thesis is now doing exactly the work that I did for Aaron.
And did you then, because you say last time the core was already there or something. I
I cross-referenced it with the data. So, I took all of Aaron's tracks, or rather the routes we planned, and basically calculated the post-processing. Okay, what would my master's thesis have been? I output my master's thesis as the best route, and the results weren't that far off at all. So, either we did a good job or the master's thesis just had the same ideas I already had anyway.
But as a supporter, you were basically responsible for guiding Aaron to the right launch sites. Telling him where it's best to take off now, and then where to go from there, or to fly in that direction, or that over there you have the option to land on the road and then keep walking if there are no thermals or anything else.
So that was actually my main job. The complete navigation, both on the ground and in the air. So, in the air, I also basically prepared certain waypoints in advance, where it was simply foreseeable, okay, this or that valley should be flown to jump over the main head, for example.
Did you only have your practical experience as a pilot for that, or would you say your geodesy studies actually helped you back then in some way? Like, that there are certain ways of reading maps or, I don't know, what techniques, where you'd say, "Hey, you can apply that really well here." Not by programming the software you've programmed now, but even without such a program, maybe you approach maps differently than someone else would.
So, my studies definitely helped me in that sense, because just from the question of where to get data, where to get maps, where I can get satellite images, current data—my studies definitely helped because those are just basics we needed every day in my studies. And it was just completely natural for me to read maps, to plan routes from maps, but also to recognize at a glance, okay, this makes sense, or there's a huge detour here. Because depending on the routing tool you use, they have different optimization criteria. And just becoming aware of the fact that, okay, it makes a difference whether I've set it to the shortest route or to hiking, and suddenly paths are taken that are nice to hike on but are simply longer.
If you're not aware of that, you might not pay much attention and just take whatever result the computer spits out.
Regarding what you did for the Iron, how did you actually plan that? Did you basically sit in front of the computer live somewhere in the support vehicle, surfing around and looking at satellite images? Or would you say, well, I mainly look at Google Earth? What techniques or basic information that might be freely accessible do you use for that?
So basically, beforehand there was a lot of rough planning via Google Earth, just looking at the general route options. During the race, on one hand, there's the live data from the Iron—where is he actually heading, where will he land again? And then, as you correctly said, I used a lot of satellite images; I worked relatively a lot with B-Router. That's simply an open-source tool where you can toggle between hiking trails, like OpenStreetMap data, and satellite images instantly, and you can also plan the routes directly in there. But I did combine several routing tools because in some countries, the official road network doesn't quite match what it actually is.
So, for example, I also worked a lot with the Suunto Heatmap, which shows where people actually hike. Even if there might not be paths on the map there, I just connected them with straight lines and told Maren, okay, there has to be a path there, people go there. I then played these GPX track logs directly onto Maren's watch—I loaded them into the app on my phone and he loaded them. He activated them on his watch and it immediately showed the next route.
That means Aaron didn't have to think for himself anymore. You told him where to run and he was just the engine, basically heading up the mountains to fly down or whatever.
If you want to put it bluntly, yes. I mean, a lot of the decisions do come from my head. But of course, things where he ends up back on the mountain in between, or goes up a few hundred meters again, he decides those himself. But otherwise, I'd say yes, 90 percent of the route planning and route choice is on my canopy.
What I always find difficult, even when reading things off Google Earth or something like that, is how steep certain sections of terrain actually are. Sometimes it looks like a relatively flat ridge, and then you get there and realize, okay, no, there's a pretty steep step in there that you can't just walk straight up or something. How often did that happen with your routings, where Aaron would give you feedback? Like, "Nothing's working here. I'm standing here and it doesn't go any further. What did you send me?"
Actually very rarely, because on the one hand, I already made sure to send him to places where I see multiple options. Like, I'd say, okay, even if the wind shifts, he can't just jump south, but he can also start north if necessary, so that I give him several options. On the other hand, you have to say that Aaron is simply a very good pilot who can also start from places where others might not be able to anymore. So that plays a significant role as well. But overall, I think my hit rate wasn't all that bad.
Did some envy come from other teams too, when they say, wow, Aaron has such a great routing, I want one too?
I don't know if you'd call it envy, but there were quite a few who said, "not bad," and sometimes even asked you yourself.
But I think that's a good pilot. But more for fun. I mean, with X-Alps, the more the teams help each other out, the better everyone moves forward.
That means, have you also done routing for others sometimes? Like when they say, I don't know where to go from here, then you say, let me take a quick look with my experience, I know exactly how it goes.
It's happened once or twice, yeah. Or also, that you coordinate, okay, what do you think, where are you going? And just exchange ideas.
Well, the X-Alps is happening again next year. Are you going to do any routing for anyone again?
It's not on the plan, no. I only do routing for myself, if at all. I've actually applied for the next X-Alps myself. So if I have to, I'll probably have to figure out my own routes this year.
But then you have a double role. You're the engine that has to run up the mountains, and at the same time, you'd have to do the routing yourself. Or can you train someone else enough in your program so that whoever does it for you can say, "Hey Eli, you need to be here and there by now." You'd send that to your watch.
No, it's definitely the plan to train someone enough so that they can do the routing for me. Because I'm just of the opinion that it takes a lot of work or energy off the athlete if you just have to follow more routes. The more physically tired you get, the harder it becomes to make sensible decisions. And if you have someone there supporting you, it simply saves resources.
Does your experience with all this terrain, reading the terrain and terrain analysis, and finding the routing also help you with your competition flights A and B, and maybe even your cross-country flights? And at what point do you say, hey, maybe I have a slight advantage because of that, because I can read things out of the landscape that others might lack the experience for?
It's definitely a point that makes things easier for me because it starts with searching for thermals. For me, reading the terrain means that, on one hand, I know, okay, where is the wind coming from? Where will the wind be deflected upwards again? Where does it sweep sideways past the mountain? Then, in combination with the position of the sun and the ground surface, the next step is the thermals. Where will the next thermal be found? Will it be supported by the wind? Will it be more of a lee side or not? And if you consciously fly into a lee situation, you're simply much more composed. The probability of taking a collapse etc. that you didn't account for is simply much lower. Because you're simply prepared for it.
That means when you look down at a landscape like that, you're already imagining in your head what the wind flow lines are like here. How do they flow around the terrain and everything else? And you're really trying to visualize that, right?
Exactly, yeah. So, of course, I use other information as well. For example, if there's a chimney somewhere in the valley below and smoke is rising, that's just information I incorporate into this mental image. Where I see the smoke rising straight up, I know there's almost no wind down in the valley. Or now, in Serbia, where the smoke is being blown 90 degrees away from the chimney, I know, okay, it's more likely to be a back landing if you get too low. And then you combine that with, okay, what wind do I actually have at my altitude right now? You can then calculate, okay, it's better to stay higher, or if you want to take advantage of the tailwind, you fly a bit lower.
You applied for the X-Hypes. What appeals to you about participating in a race like that?
On one hand, for me, it's simply a new challenge—I'm saying, okay, not just competition flying, but not just flying, but also including the hiking part, because for me it's just an incredibly beautiful combination to be in the mountains, gaining altitude, and then flying again, flying routes, and getting the most out of even seemingly unflyable days. To say, okay, even if it rains for half the day, how far can I still make it? And for me, the motivation is simply that I've seen it about two and a half times from the supporter's perspective, spent a lot of time in the car, and now I just want to see where I stand myself.
But you don't have much Hike-and-Fly competition experience yourself yet, do you?
That's correct. So, I lack hike-and-fly competition experience in that sense, because during the hike-and-fly competitions, I was always in the car, so on the supporter side. I didn't participate myself, but I've been out and about quite a bit in terms of hike-and-fly, both with Aaron and with the guys down in Graz, Simon and Tommy. So I definitely feel capable of it.
And you're also hoping that... I mean, when it comes to the selection, they always look at what someone has already done in which area, in terms of experience and stuff like that. So if you have a lot of competition experience, but you have nothing to show for it where you can say, "I can run about this well." So, right now. In terms of results, there's not much to show. I'll keep my fingers crossed that you'll still make it in, either with that or with the other things that get factored in. Maybe as a woman, you'll also have an advantage, because they'll probably always like to have women involved and will be happy if someone from Austria takes part.
So we'll find out in October.
When is the announcement actually happening in October?
Also between October 10th and 14th. Or
Do you have two important results right away? You'll have your master's thesis finished, or rather you have to finish the exam, and then you'll also be told what you're doing next year, roughly. Exactly. Speaking of doing. You're also generally such an all-around flyer. You're now also working as a flight instructor for the flight school where you learned lift, you're a safety trainer. How does competition flying actually fit into such a flight-related work routine?
Well, I have the advantage that I'm no longer an employee, but a partner at the flight school. That means I can manage the time off or free days for competitions more easily, let's put it that way. Yes, it's true, my vacation is flying myself again. But it's also the case that as a flight instructor, you have to be honest and say that as a flight instructor, you're on the ground a lot while others are flying. That's why it actually works quite well for me to get into the air myself during competitions. Although it's certainly true that during my cross-country flight courses, when I'm teaching, I am in the air with the people, so that's time I'm gathering airtime during working hours. But that's only three or four weeks a year. For the majority of the time, as a flight instructor, you're on the ground telling the others over the radio what they should be doing.
Do you enjoy this work, or do you often find yourself looking up at the sky and thinking, "I'd actually rather be flying myself right now"?
No, I have to say, as a flight instructor, I enjoy it extremely much. Because I find it beautiful to teach people something, to help people progress, and simply to see the progress in the students who come here as pedestrians and then, after a few weeks or months, are independent, self-thinking pilots who know when to head up the mountain, who feel comfortable in a thermal, and who have their glider under control. So, simply seeing that progress in others is something that makes this job very special for me.
What could I learn best from you, from what you're able to do?
So I think I can pass on quite a bit, especially in cross-country flight, in the flight area. Just regarding flight tactics—where to fly next, how high to turn up, and then fly on again. But also with the SIV training, just having a bit more safety under your glider, getting to know the glider, and also having a bit of trust in your gear. But the great thing about flight instructors is that I work in all areas, so from basic training with beginners to cross-country pilots, experienced pilots. In my opinion, everyone can always learn something from everyone. No matter what level of knowledge you have, I can learn just as much from a student as vice versa. That's why I wouldn't say one person can learn more from me than the other.
Well, there's an opportunity for everyone, and it goes both ways—that you can learn from one another.
What have you learned that was actually noteworthy from a flight student?
For example, how to breathe. So as silly as it sounds, that you can regulate your breathing, your entire circulatory system, and your stress level. That's something you learn from a flight instructor who simply tells you, okay, if I'm nervous, do this or that breathing exercise to calm yourself down, to get a cool head again, and to start the next situation relaxed.
So, do you breathe before takeoff or do breathing exercises while in the air?
Both. So both before the start and in the air. And it works both ways. You can either activate yourself through your breathing or relax again, depending on what's needed at the moment.
Which of those do you actively use? In terms of breathing techniques?
Mainly for relaxing when things get rough in the air. Just conscious, slow inhaling and exhaling. Especially exhaling more than you inhale. The body inhales on its own. You often have to force it to exhale. And in total, that makes you more capable again.
That means if you now... have a stressful situation after the competition and you notice, oh, I might make a wrong decision or something, then you really say, okay, I'm going to take a deep breath first. And do you do that for a minute, or are ten seconds enough, or how does that work?
Yes, it's usually three to four breaths where you just try to make each breath last about five seconds. So it's supposed to be 30 seconds where you consciously focus on your breathing. For example, even if you've just had a major blunder. You just notice, okay, heart rate is at 180, and on the way to the next turn, you just calm yourself down again, refocus, and say, okay, the competition continues.
Do you also do that consciously before the start? I mean, many pilots—there are even studies where they measured heart rates in experienced pilots, for example, and saw that every pilot's heart rate goes up before the start. It goes up a lot for some, less for others, or something like that. But whatever that means, okay, there's some arousal involved, you get more nervous. And maybe with a bit more calm, you could have a much calmer, more controlled start. Is there something like that where you say, consciously before the start, I'll go back into myself, take four more breaths, and say—or maybe I even visualize a good start—and then I head out accordingly?
Definitely. Especially when I'm out with ballast. Because I'm very aware that the more ballast you have, the greater the risk of getting injured. You just don't want to take that risk. So, a aborted takeoff without ballast isn't a big deal; not much will happen. But with ballast, if you slip or twist your ankle, the physical strain on your body is just completely different than when you're out with the light sex.
Has anything ever happened to you with your ballast?
Yeah, I once went through a stone wall in France during a launch because I put on my gloves and the glider started to fly. And I was just too slow with the ballast to, let's say, jump towards it. And then I flew a few meters behind it.
So it lifted up and you went into that stone wall at full speed?
Dragged along, exactly.
But did you survive it, at least? Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to talk today. But did you get through it mostly unscathed otherwise?
Yeah, a few bruises, but otherwise I was fine. The problem with just using ballast is that you're more like a turtle lying on its back. You almost need help again, like someone to help me get back up.
Let's move on. We want to talk about another type of ballast you sometimes take with you towards the end. I heard you fly with a dog. Or you have a dog that you sometimes take with you for paragliding. What's that like? How does that work?
Exactly, so I have a Dalmatian mix. So a relatively large, black dog weighing 33 kilos. I taught him paragliding from a young age because, as I said, I like to do hike and fly as well. And I didn't always want to leave my dog behind. So he actually flew with me for the first time at four months old. By now, he has his own harness. So the same as now, if you imagine rescue dogs being lowered from a helicopter. So basically a hammock with four holes inside. He's attached to my harness with that and is also allowed to walk on his own during takeoff and landing. Simply, compared to my own weight, I prefer 33 kilos that can walk on their own. And once the dog is hooked in, go, go, go. And then he just jumps off.
Then he's in the air with me.
And he understands what you're trying to do, too. So, for example, if you have to run towards the glider during a start like that, while it's still on the ground, he knows exactly what you're doing; he reacts to it immediately and moves with you. He doesn't just pull, he's already saying, "I want to start," and runs in the other direction, while you actually still have to take a few steps uphill first.
He's definitely a bit over-eager. So he's more the type you have to brake. He gives it gas and I brake him back. But we have quite a few commands. I also practiced that with rollerblading, where I just gave him commands like go forward, right, left, or stop. Those are just commands for how I can navigate him on the ground. And additionally, back to the practice slope again and a lot of ground handling. Also with the dog, so that he knows, okay, once the glider pulls, you have to go towards it. He's not allowed to just run around me five times, because then it won't work anymore. So you can achieve a lot just with training. And
When you're in the air, is he hanging in front of you looking straight ahead? Or is he sideways, so that one leg hangs to the right and the other to the left of your lap?
No, well, he's facing the direction of flight, looking straight ahead, and hangs basically under me, like in a tandem, so in front, under me. And with his front paws, he usually braces himself against my feet, so on my toes, hooking his paws in on the left and right. And then we travel together like that.
And he thinks that's cool?
Well, looking at the way he's wagging his tail in the air, I'd say he's enjoying it.
Okay. How long or how far can you fly with him? Or is it more like, yeah, that's hike and fly with the dog, and I don't want him hanging around for 20 minutes longer than that?
Yeah, well, it's more like I use it as a descent aid, actually. I mean, I've flown with him for about forty-five minutes and stayed up. But I have the feeling that especially when it gets bumpy, he sometimes feels a bit sick. His stomach isn't quite that well-trained for it. And that's why I just try to avoid being out in very thermal or difficult conditions. And it's also really important, when you have responsibility for a second living being, that you only go out in conditions that work for both of you. And for me, that's more like when I'm out with students. Training conditions are also dog conditions. And if it's bumpy... when it's in the air, he usually stays on the ground.
Is he always with you? Like, is he basically the flight school dog and always part of your training sessions and stuff, more or less?
Exactly, so the flight school dog is with you, either in the office or now during the training sessions. Although, for example, as with the SIV training right now, he waits at the campsite during the day. And then in the evening, he joins in for the hike and fly or for the ground handling.
How are you going to do that if next year you actually... if next year you actually take part in the X-Alps and you're out there for two or three weeks? Is he coming along? Is he going to be in the support vehicle?
No, I don't think I'll take him with me. I'm pretty sure he'll be with my mother, or rather my little sister. Although they've already signed up in some parts to join along the route and walk a bit with us.
You could use him as a transport dog, where you say, okay, I have to carry my gear, but I could offload everything else onto my dog. And probably there's no X-Alps rule yet that says using dogs... is forbidden, that using dogs is prohibited.
Principally, he can carry well. I mean, he has his own backpack, so he generally always has to carry that himself. So you could give him a few kilos. But the thing is, he's big and black. And the warmer it gets, the less capable he is. So especially into June and July, when the days just get significantly warmer, he's... significantly weaker in terms of performance because he just... let's just say it's too hot. Then he's no help if the sled keeps falling behind.
That's true. If the X-Alps are your next big flying goal, I'll keep my fingers crossed that it works out. How do you see your future in flying?
Well, for one thing, job-wise, I'll definitely continue being a flight instructor because I enjoy the job so much. But also just... Or if things don't work out with the X-Alps, there are other Hike-and-Fly competitions where I definitely want to keep going in that direction a bit more. But there are also still a few to-dos left for the World Cup. I mean, I've reached the podium now, but it's still about two spots higher. So that would still be a goal I'd like to achieve, to stand at the very top of the podium once.
Are you going to be at the Superfinal in Mexico?
Exactly, that's in December. That's the next big competition for me. It's going to Valle de Bravo, to Mexico. Superfinale. Exactly, I'm already looking forward to that again.
Have you ever flown there before?
I haven't been to Mexico yet. It's supposed to be quite intense and fast. So, I think it'll suit me.
Yeah, and a lot of complex terrain. Maybe that also appeals to you as a terrain analyst?
I hope so. I mean, I'd be happy about it. Generally, strong flying areas are more in line with my flying style than having... tricky conditions. You know, for the sake of patience and all that.
Eli, I wish you the best of luck and, above all, great success in Mexico. And then hopefully the confirmation for the X-Alps, so that you can participate next year. You'll certainly have some enthusiastic listeners who will be watching very closely. Especially how you plan your routing, and whether you find any other great routes there that others might have missed.
Thank you so much. I'm really happy to do this. Let's exchange a few words.
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