It's a bit like what Reinhard Messner says, you miss the mountain a bit when you're on foot—so if you start from the bottom and reach the top, you've understood the mountain a bit more as a mountain. When I take the cable car up, it's almost like a sports equipment feeling—so the mountain is actually, yeah, the ramp that's 1,000 meters above the valley, what the mountain actually is, how much distance is in there, you hardly get that. That's why I really notice how that's missing, that feeling for the mountain, so, when you haven't walked up there.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast,
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding, today
With Florian Hofmeister and I'm Lucian Haas. Anyone who wants to hike into the mountains to fly down from there needs one thing above all: the mountains. That's why it's all the more surprising when a Gleitschirm-Blog from Cologne has dedicated its heart to this form of flying, because the area around Cologne is flat land, and even the nearby hills of the Eifel in the south reach a maximum altitude difference of 200 meters. However, Florian Hofmeister doesn't let such constraints stop him from living his dream. Almost every weekend that promises suitable flying weather, he drives to the Alps to climb peaks and complete the descent by flying.
The YouTube channel is aptly named Peak and Fly, where the 33-year-old joins his girlfriend Wiebke and his father Klaus for most of their adventures.
The aesthetically filmed videos with their perfectly matched musical scores make you want to do them a favor. Anyone who regularly takes on hour-long drives to a hiking destination should, of course, be well-prepared so they don't hike those long distances for nothing. In this regard, Florian is particularly meticulous. Thanks to detailed weather and terrain studies in advance, almost all of his tours are successful. How he goes about it and how he even returns to his love is a question he can no longer answer for himself. How he got into Hike and Fly, what equipment he uses, and why he now even sews many parts of it himself—Florian tells all that and more in this 93rd episode of Podz-Glidz.
If you enjoy the podcast, please consider supporting my work as a patron. You can find out how to do this easily and without any obligation on the "Fördern" page of my blog website, Flugleits.
Florian, you're an enthusiastic hike and flyer. But you live in Cologne, and we're sitting here at your place right now, and the trams are passing by outside, and above all, it's absolute flatland where we are. How does that actually work together—hike and fly, and you living here?
My connection to the mountains actually started quite early, back in my childhood. We always went on a three-week summer vacation, and two of those were in Tuscany and one week in Elmau in the Kaiser Mountains. The spark hadn't really jumped back then, but somehow it laid some memories. Later, my father took me on via ferratas. That kind of hooked me, and then I just started going into the mountains a lot. I just had so much fun there and faced a lot of challenges. I liked that. And then I drove past a landing field in Tannheim once. A paraglider was hovering in there, goddammit. Back then I didn't know, but today I know, of course, by all means.
It was like a metal wind, it almost hovered in place as it came down, and I just thought, wow, that looks amazing. And as we went into the mountains more and it became a sort of hobby—hiking, mountaineering, trekking—well, at some point the question naturally arises: why always the descent? Couldn't you maybe fly down? Wouldn't there be a more elegant solution? Sometimes you'd see people flying around and it was kind of an idea that... and yeah, of course, I knew in Cologne it would be difficult, but for a vacation, at least that's how it started, you could do it. And that you'd eventually get addicted and then really go down there every weekend, no one could have guessed that.
That means, at the beginning, there was this fundamental passion for the mountains. First of all, the passion for hiking from those two things we have. And you already went to the mountains a lot. First with your parents, but probably later for yourself too, and you climbed and hiked mountains.
Exactly, exactly. So, it's really about the fact that I did this alone and by myself. There were actually two triggers at play. One is rather a sad story. One of my best friends, or my best childhood friend, actually died on a mountain at the Szenalrothorn. For me, it was always sort of in the back of my mind. I have to go up there at some point. I have to finish it at some point. Now, of course, you don't start with the Szenalrothorn, let's say, but you start with simple mountains, with simple climbs, and you work your way toward it. And that's what I did. And it fell into a time when I now have Long Covid—that's the well-known, long-term viral illness. Back then, I also had some kind of viral illness that dragged on for years, where I then noticed on the mountain after years, oh, I can perform slowly again.
I can do sports again, I can move faster again. And that kind of pulled me there at the time, just to say, oh, I'm capable of hiking a thousand meters of elevation again, maybe two thousand meters quickly. And those two factors were somehow what really hooked me into hiking and mountaineering. I was up there in 2018, on the Szenalrothorn, and I did that tour happily. But it wasn't the endpoint or anything, it was basically... yeah, very nice. It was a very beautiful commemorative tour, a very nice thing, but it didn't really grab me until then, I have to say.
Did you also fly down from that mountain, or hadn't you even started flying yet?
That year, I had actually gotten my license and I was standing up there thinking about where I could go, or if I could go at all. But back then, I wasn't experienced enough to say I could. Today, I'd say it's no problem at all, like everywhere. And that's why it's actually back on the list and I'd love to.
If you go up a mountain now, do you fly down from all of them? Yes. That means you always choose your tours so that you say, okay, I want to take these mountains so that I can definitely start out of them somewhere at the top. And the mountains where I can't start don't really appeal to me at all.
Yes, exactly, definitely. So I'd say I choose my tours exclusively based on whether the mountain is flyable or startable now.
But you also have to say, almost every mountain is actually flyable, so the selection isn't necessarily that small. The question, of course, is: is it allowed? Besides whether it's possible, it's always the question of whether it's allowed. But there are just so many incredible options. You can pick a nice mountain and most of the time it's flyable too. You
you just mentioned in a side note that, yeah, I haven't been riding down there every weekend or anything. Do you actually ride from Cologne to the mountains every weekend now? Like, somewhere in the Alps, always 600 kilometers there, 600 kilometers back? There are always phases where I
I did that too. My job allowed me to do that for a while. I had a day off, like a Friday, so I could drive down on Thursday and back on Sunday. And that was worth it. You'd do two or maybe three tours. There were summers where I did that. Last summer, for example, or 2019 too. Of course, that's extremely exhausting in the long run. You can't really keep it up for longer than a few weeks. But yeah, I did do that. Not at the moment, but for a long time, yeah.
How many kilometers did you end up doing in a year? Just to drive to your tours and back?
Okay, thank God that was spread across several cars. That's why I don't know. But yeah, it probably added up to quite a bit.
Hike and fly is always considered eco-friendly, right? You hike up somewhere. But if you imagine, okay, driving from Cologne to go hike and fly, it's anything but eco-friendly. Does that ever play a role in your thoughts or your planning in any way?
Yes, that does play a role. I've often thought about what the carbon footprint is like in that regard. And I have to be honest, it was a bit of an addiction, I was really addicted. That's why I've just tried to reduce it a bit by taking people along and getting them excited about joining in, so we can share the ride and, yeah, be a bit more economical in that way.
That means shared joy is double the joy and a shared ride is half the environmental impact, something like that.
Roughly, yeah.
Now you're sitting here in Cologne and you drive for six, eight, nine hours somewhere, depending on where in the Alps you want to go. Now you don't always know if you can actually do that tour. How do you handle that, or how often does it actually happen to you that you get somewhere and realize, crap, the weather doesn't allow for it, I've basically driven here for nothing? So, on...
not at all. In reality, over the years of these tours, it actually only happened once—or twice, twice in total—that I had to hike back down because it wasn't possible. And by nature, I'm the type of person who plans very, very extensively. I really prepare extremely well, I always try to learn from every tour by cross-referencing the weather and the conditions—what kind of wind did you have up there, what conditions did you have, and why? And especially why did it deviate from the forecast of all five models, from the valley wind, why on that day, and so on. So, I really want to look at it so that if I'm already heading down, I actually want some kind of 100% flight guarantee.
To get close to that, I try to do it through very good planning here at home on the PC,
I'd say. But I mean, if you say you go there every weekend, there are also weekends where you just have to say, the weather is at least mediocre, where you might not have the absolute best chance of success. Or can you really plan ahead so that you say, somewhere in the Alps there's always a spot that's so reliable, and I'll pick it out accordingly?
Yeah, you can probably fly almost anywhere at some point, but I just wouldn't go. I mean, I obviously pick weekends that are just good. And "just good" happens very often somewhere, you have to say. So sure, there are some mixed weekends, but somewhere it's actually quite good. And if not, I just go every two or three weeks. That works too.
If you say you plan excessively, then you're probably also saying, "I want to do a tour on this and that mountain." You don't necessarily know everything about it on-site; you don't have the local knowledge. How do you still get to the point where you're pretty sure it'll work out? What's involved? What do you check off? Or do you also get in touch with locals, or how do you go about that?
Every now and then, I actually try to talk to people who live there or at least have flown there, mostly through YouTube comments on various videos. But it's also just a bit of experience. So at the beginning, of course, I looked for simple and safe things. Like where it was clear: okay, with little wind, on low-wind days, it's a south side or an east side in the morning maybe, then it's definitely a safe story. But with experience, you just notice what kind of influences really play a role—at what altitude is it, is it the valley wind, is it the supra-regional, or is it just the sun when there's little wind. And your skill increases too, meaning the launch window. Like, what can I even launch from?
How much tailwind can I handle? How much crosswind is okay? What kind of launch sites are even possible? Most mountains offer ten launch sites in many different directions. They just aren't recognizable as launch sites at first glance. But basically, a wider hiking trail is often enough, I'd say. That simply increases the possibility of actually being able to launch in the end. So it's a mix of experience in planning, but also skill in launching, above all. And that simply creates a higher probability that you actually get to fly.
Do you also look at something like that on Google Earth closely and say, yeah, that terrain, I'll really scan the satellite images to see where one might be able to launch there? Like, if you hike up there, I'll mark three possible spots, maybe at three different altitudes. Like, if you say it's maybe too strong at the top, but then I could still launch 200 meters lower or something like that.
Definitely. So Google Earth is one option, of course. There are other options too, like Fat Map and other 3D maps. So 3D maps in any case. It usually starts with that because I've driven through somewhere and saw a nice mountain. I tried to remember where it was. And later I look in Google Earth. Then I just look up, what kind of mountain was that? And is it flyable? You said there are several starting options. So I think you always need a plan B and plan C, where you just say, if I go up and maybe do tours that are at the limit or something, I have to be able to take off somehow. And for that, I definitely need options later. And Google Earth is very well suited for that. Also Google Maps in this 3D version.
And what I like to use for that is this cool, really flyable spot—or is it just a mistake in Google Earth? What there is, of course, is the Portal Hiker, where people upload tour reports and also photos. And then you can see what it actually looks like. Because with these 3D programs, I have to be honest, I've seen some real prime examples. It looks like a ridge, but it's a wall. So it can really deviate extremely from reality.
Have you had that experience too? That you went somewhere based on Google Earth and then weren't standing on a ridge, but in front of a wall, and said, "shit"?
No, thank God, not me. I actually had the experience of thinking, "Wow, great," in Google Earth, and then seeing in the photos later that it's not possible at all and that it looks completely different. So that can definitely happen. And you really have to be careful about what you rely on, because in the end, only images or videos of the actual terrain are truly reliable.
-model. That means you're surfing. But you also surf the internet a lot and search accordingly; if you say, "I want to climb that one mountain," then you really look for photos that show this mountain and were taken along the route—the ascent route—and then you check Instagram and YouTube or whatever else.
Exactly, so when I have a mountain in mind, it can take months of me finding a picture somewhere that shows that exact corner in a trip report. There are just an incredible number of portals out there. And yeah... I collect them. I also have a OneNote file where I gather all the pictures for it, so that in the end, I have a really good idea of what it actually looks like in reality.
That means if you get into the car in Cologne, it's never really spontaneous; there's basically weeks of planning beforehand for that one launch site or that one mountain, because you don't say, "Okay, I see the weather is great, now I want to do that one," and then you check; instead, you've had your eye on that mountain for maybe months and say, "The conditions are right for it today." Or whatever today, tomorrow, the day after, that weekend when you head down there.
That can be the case, but usually it's more like, I've already organized or looked up, I don't know, 50 or 100 tours just like that. It means the weather is nice, I think about what I actually want to do out of all the things, and then I pick one and drive there. But that's already been researched, so I've already planned it. And then I just check if the conditions actually fit at the moment. Yes, there's often a lot of planning beforehand. Nowadays, I like to do it from my phone on the road if I'm already down there and want to do something spontaneously. That works too, but of course, that wouldn't have been possible at the beginning. So all that planning enabled me to also plan spontaneously. At the start, I wouldn't have been able to manage that at all.
But spontaneous planning means you need the experience to be able to assess certain information accordingly, to say whether something is doable or not.
Sure, you know the sources better then, and you know where you have to look, and you know where to look for reliable information. It's often the case that when we do a hike and fly and I see a nice mountain from the flight, I see it somehow reacting to thermals because of its shape, or because I think, wow, it has a rocky ridge at the bottom but a grass plateau at the top, perfect.
Then, of course, I have to, let's say, go up the next day at the latest. And that means I have to plan it somehow on-site. And I might only have a phone or something. And that doesn't work so optimally. But if you have a bit of experience, it's easier than you think; you don't always need the PC in the background, so to speak. Do you do these tours alone often? Rarely, actually. We're usually a group. That also kind of corresponds to what paragliding is for me, or these hike and fly trips. For me, paragliding is actually a social sport, I'd say. A sport that lives off the community and the community events that you have. And that's why there are always a few people there.
Some frequently and some rather rarely. And we usually do it together.
as an individual. But if you have a crew like that, then you're already the leader because you're the planner.
I don't know if I'd call myself a leader. But I'm definitely the one who likes to take on the planning and the responsibility of ensuring that we have, let's say, a guarantee of a start at the top.
Could you also entrust yourself to others? Or would you say, no, I'd rather plan that through myself again? Are you such a perfectionist that you'd say, that won't work, it won't work otherwise?
I think I'd find that very difficult. But if I know the people and trust their expertise, I'd probably do it. However, I think this planning is part of it. For me, it's its own really inspiring discipline, where I just have fun with it. That's very important to me. It's not a chore at all. It's not like, "Now I have to figure out how to do this." It's more like, "Wow, what is there to discover? How do the possibilities fit with reality?" And actually trying that out is what I really enjoy.
Well, with Hike and Flies, especially the fly part, it's not always, but often they're just beautiful glides. Maybe 20 minutes, half an hour, or something like that. What's the time ratio you manage to get when you say you prepare for it meticulously? I mean, how much do you prepare? How much work goes into a half-hour flight? Have you...
Have you ever calculated that ratio? Well, I've never seen it like that. For me, the tour actually starts on the PC. I already have fun when I'm planning it. So, for me, it's not dead time anyway. But it depends on the tour. There are tours that are super easy to research. It's immediately clear what's going on there. Maybe a very large grass slope or a fir slope at the top or something, where it's going to work out anyway. I don't really look at that much more. But there are other tours, like Bishorn from the Mattertal, for example, which can't even really be found as a tour. And then you really have to look, from front to back, how you can ascend with the paraglider, how you can fly at the end—there, of course, is the ratio to the glider.
probably 20 to 1 or even worse. But that totally depends on the tour. It's extremely dependent on that.
But you're saying you have so much fun with the planning that, in the end, it might not even matter whether you go flying or not. The hobby is already those 20 hours beforehand.
I wouldn't go that far. For me, it's always the comparison between what I imagine here and what I experience later. Having that comparison is really important to me. I wouldn't say I do it for the planning itself. That wouldn't be enough.
How often do you experience it where, during this comparison, you realize, "Damn, there's actually something completely different here. I overlooked something." How often does that still happen to you today? You mentioned that in the beginning, even with Google Earth and all that, you'd see that it doesn't quite work that way. But what kind of mistakes can you still make today?
You always learn more, I have to say. It's mainly these small effects where I already expect there to be some kind of effect beforehand, but I don't know yet how strong it is. So a classic example is Silberhornhütte in the Swiss Alps. Glaciers are just a bit... or the launch site is in the influence zone of glaciers lying above it. And then it's a bit of a question: how long is it still flyable in the evening? Do I want to do a nice evening glide? Maybe 7 or 8 p.m.? The sun is shining on it, it's a west side, everything's great. But when is the glacier effect stronger than the sun effect? And those are the kind of learnings you don't get the first time you're on-site, and maybe you don't even want to do them. But these are things that come. They really only come out after an extreme amount of experience with exactly this effect.
And that means there are always these effects that show me, oh, you didn't think of that. But of course, those are specific launch sites, and at most launch sites, there are hardly any such effects, so I'd say it's rather rare.
Has it ever happened to you that because of this glacier wind, which comes down the mountain as a cold wind, you weren't able to start anymore?
So, it has happened to me that I had problems getting a good start, but not that I couldn't start at all. I mean, we did get out, but it wasn't that pleasant headwind anymore. It was just a tailwind. And if you only have a few meters to run and it's also through snow, then of course you just have to look and weigh up whether it's still worth the risk or if it's already becoming reckless.
Do you also keep things like that in mind during the planning, like saying, okay, this is a launch site that has enough running distance so that you might still get out even with a tailwind, whereas with the other one you know, okay, I only have five meters and that really has to work with a headwind, otherwise you won't get out cleanly at all.
There are always tours where it's naturally right on the edge, I'd say, where you just say, okay, there's a ridge up there and you either have five to ten km/h wind where you can just get the glider, maybe a light glider, up, or it's simply not possible. So far I've been lucky, I'd say, so it was possible, but when I know something like that, I actually need a plan B, so what other options are there. If it's that tight and there's probably a tailwind, then I just have to start earlier. For example, I can't say I'll do the evening glider and relax up there, but instead I'll just start at 5 p.m., when the wind is definitely still coming from the front. That's how I'd rather do it.
Let's talk a bit about equipment. If you're oriented towards hike and fly, do you have special gliders for that, or do you say you always use one and just drag it up every mountain there, and then get out everywhere with my XI or whatever?
No, actually I have a glider for every, for every area of operation, which is partly because... How many
How many gliders do you have? Four.
Four? That's still doable.
Yeah, yeah. There are people who have more. I mean, kiters also have all different kite sizes for various wind speeds, and you have four gliders for the different mountain conditions you'll probably encounter there. Which gliders are they, and for which mountain conditions do you need each one?
So the first one is actually a glider that isn't suitable for the mountains at all, or is suitable but one I don't fly in the mountains. It's a Diva from BGD. I only fly it in the dunes or on soaring edges that don't have thermals. It's a competition glider, perfect for soaring, but completely unsuitable for hike and fly. And for hike and fly, I actually have a Bantam, a P3, and an XI. It just depends on how long I plan to fly there.
And how do you decide then? I mean, before you head up the mountain, you probably take all three with you in your van when you drive there. But once you're up there, you have to decide, okay, which one am I taking now?
How do you decide that on the day or then?
on-site? Yes, quite simply. Whether for me it's a tour where it's really about the hike, the tour itself, maybe because you have to do some climbing or something. Or whether it's also about the flight for me. So, for example, do I want to climb up and then fly somewhere, or do I just want to fly and take the hike as training? I just decide that once I'm out of the bus, which I'm more in the mood for, hiking or flying.
If you're really saying hiking, then the Bantam probably comes into play most of the time as the smallest and lightest glider. But you just shook your head—the people didn't see that. I mean, you didn't just shake it, you weighed it back and forth a bit. So tell me, under what conditions do you say, "That's a typical Bantam condition," "That's a P3 condition," and "That's an XI condition"?
Yes, the Bantam actually comes into play when every single gram really matters. I also flew longer in the Dudek Run & Fly before. It was even clearer there that, let's say, from an aviation standpoint, nothing is possible. But when every gram matters—meaning the Bantam—what size do you have there? You have it designed for 14 square meters. Okay. And if I still want to be fast or stay light, but I know it's a great day and I can't just fly past the clouds when I'm up there in the air, I can't just fly past them. That's not possible. Then I naturally take the P3, because even with the P3, even in my slightly smaller size, you can certainly fly for quite a while. And it's still a good compromise.
And if I then really say I want to fly somewhere, or it's about a certain route or just staying up longer, then of course I take an XI, because the performance of those three gliders is simply undeniably the best.
Which of the gliders do you end up taking into the air the most anyway? Maybe not in terms of flight time—the cross-country gliders will probably get the most flight time. But which one gets launched most often? Actually, the P3,
because it's simply a good compromise. You have to say that, yeah. Yeah, because it's often the case that you say, okay, I'll take the P3 with the light harness. But that way, I can fly for an hour or two. And that compromise is often unbeatable. Of course, there are hikes that are just... they simply demand that you carry as little as possible. Then it's not possible. But if it is possible, I'd always take it.
And as a harness? Do you use a classic loop harness, or do you still take something bigger with you sometimes?
Well, that depends. So with the Bantam, of course, I often actually fly with a very reduced Strapless as well.
And for the P, I either take the Neo Stay Up, which is a light liege harness, or an Easiness, which is a light conversion harness.
Is a liege harness reasonable for hike-and-fly stuff? Would you recommend that to others too? Or is it just you saying, yeah, if I want to fly a bit more distance then I think it's great.
I
I can recommend it. They are very light. There's now a whole range of very light, yes, from this X-Alps development, of light lying harnesses. You just have to be aware that there will definitely be some, yes, difficulties that come with it. For example, I find Hike-and-Fly starts with lying harnesses are simply more difficult. You can't walk around as freely. You just have to pay much closer attention to whether you're really through everywhere and if it's adjusted correctly. Which, with a Hike-and-Fly harness, a Hike-and-Fly launch site, which might also be more demanding, is certainly also a psychological factor. That's why I can recommend it if you have experience with it and if you know, I fly it often anyway. Otherwise, I would say, it should be as simple as possible
the harness. And then again, the question is, which harness do you use most often?
That's changed a bit. Currently, I'm actually flying the Neo Stay-Up almost exclusively, and I flew the Easiness for a very long time because for me, it was such a no-brainer.
very simple, accessible, and if the hike or anything else has challenging conditions, I know I can rely on it 100%. There's no question at all. I'm in there, it's just easy to fly, and that's it. But by now, it's also okay with a Ligurzeug, it's just the same.
And do you always have a reserve? Or are there flights where you say, no, for this hike I really want to skip every gram and that kilo of reserve just stays down there?
It can happen that I leave the rescue gear behind, yeah. But that's the exception, absolutely. So, maybe on high-altitude tours or demanding, long trips where I know for sure that I'll fly out if the air is calm and dead—say, in the morning or evening—then it's possible that I leave the rescue gear behind and go really light. But normally, especially when I'm flying thermals, I would fundamentally never go without rescue gear; so it comes with me 98% of the time.
You have your own YouTube channel too, called Peak & Fly. What's it about? I mean, why do you run it?
It actually started quite naturally because my father and my girlfriend, who I run the channel with, just filmed a bit on the side to have some footage of it. And I used to work a bit in the film or video industry. So, I shot music videos, corporate films, and stuff like that. And because of that, I said, okay, I'll edit this together, put some music under it, but really, it was completely low-key. And the step of uploading it wasn't really a big deal either. Especially since I was also inspired by these Hike & Fly YouTube videos myself. In fact, one of the main reasons I started with Hike & Fly was a specific video,
it's not anything crazy or amazing, but it just conveyed a certain feeling. And that's actually what we do now. We want to somehow convey the feeling we had on that tour and give people a bit of inspiration. And I'd say that works, too, because we constantly get feedback like, "That mountain is on my list now because of this video," or "We started flying because of you," which is really great feedback. And we get extremely excited when we read stuff like that. That's why we basically do it for documentation and to inspire others.
When you look at the clips—I've been going through a lot of them over the last two days—I noticed there are so many really beautiful shots. You always have great weather. So your planning seems to be good, or at least maybe over the last three years there's always been such great weather that you could fly nicely. At least in the films, there's always a lot of blue sky and rich colors, which a GoPro probably delivers anyway. And then you add a bit of music, but there isn't much text in any way. You usually overlay the places where you were, or what you see there, or what you're flying towards and stuff like that. But no further story is told directly, other than through the images.
So it's really just for you, just a documentary character.
Yeah, well, when my father edits them—we split the work too—when my father edits them, he often puts in these, these mountain names. For him, it's a bit of a thing, and I think that's good too. I'm more on the aesthetic side. So, I'd focus more on the beauty of the images or the quality of the editing or something like that. I also make fewer videos on the channel. But in the long run, I definitely want to tell stories too. So, to really take people along step by step, maybe showing the planning or what I thought, or what we thought, during the tour. Why go up here, why fly there, and why camp here, and so on. So, in the long run, more of these stories will probably be told, and currently, it's a bit more documentary-style, and for one or another, it's really valuable to know, "Oh, that mountain is called that," or "That's that pass over there." Just like I inform myself, we also inform people.
But
You don't have your own website yet, a blog or something else, where you could say that every tour is documented with the video and at the same time, like, the tour info is summarized. We set off from right there with GPX tour descriptions or something.
No, that actually doesn't exist. I always enjoy answering comments that refer to things like that. Like, how long did it take you to get up there? Where does it start and where is the launch site? I'd still do that. But now, to actually document all of this again in text form, that would honestly be too much for me, because the videos are already a lot of work, and that's why it's not planned.
Do you also go back and watch the videos yourself in the winter, when you say you don't have much time, and just go to your channel to watch the best tours from last year again?
Yeah, well, to be honest, we do like to look at them together. And I can only recommend to everyone, especially if you're starting to fly or starting with hike and fly, to just film things—like ground handling or just a bit of the tour—because it's incredible how you have things in your head and how they actually were, and just to experience that again. Wow, I was so scared. Second tour. I really pissed myself, but when I look at it today, the launch site was actually great. Why did I think that way back then? It's just really nice to watch that again. Really interesting too. So, you learn from your own videos too? Well, I definitely learn how much the perspective changes over time, you have to say. So that's what I learn. I'm not actually learning anything new that I didn't already know from that, though.
Perspective, for example—you say a launch site where you used to say was basically unstartable because it was too steep or something. Today you'd say, yeah, sure, I'll throw my glider into this scree and then I know exactly, okay, those steps, I can walk over this uneven terrain and I'll definitely make it out of there.
Yeah, there are videos or tours where we just hiked up and left the gliders somewhere in a notch or something, and then just went to the summit easily without the glider and hiked back down. And today I'd say, of course I'm taking the glider to the summit, because ultimately it's somehow launchable and if the wind is right, I can launch up there. And back then I would have said that's just out of the question. So I wouldn't need to take it with me at all.
What skills would you say are needed to do Hike and Fly well and, above all, safely?
Yes, well, you actually need skills on different levels, I have to say. But it really depends on what the ambition is. If you say, I'm going to a launch site, to an official one, then you probably need hardly any more skills, except maybe researching the route. But if you say, I really want to say, I like this mountain, is that possible? Can I do that? Then it starts with the ability to assess or the experience of assessment. What's the route like? Can I do that—meaning the whole mountaineering side—and then it goes to the flying side, where you say, okay, of course there's no windsock. That means you have to be able to assess the wind differently at the launch site. You have to be able to launch the glider really well, 100%. So launch skill, ground handling skill is even more relevant in hike and fly, I think, especially at the start, because you don't have the 30 meters...
...small, manicured meadow or maybe artificial turf at Tegelberg, but rather you have a meadow interspersed with rocks, or in the worst case, a scree field or boulder field, where you have to know exactly where the glider is above you or behind you, because you're actually busy running, because there are things lying everywhere that you're not allowed to step on. That means, I still think the most important thing for hike and fly is the launch skill—being able to launch well, perfectly. That's actually a kind of life insurance for hike and fly. That means, and of course on the mountaineering side too, being able to know: do I trust myself with this, or does the route correspond to my abilities?
These flying skills, would you say that the stuff you need, can you actually learn those or can you learn them at a flight school, or is it something you can really only teach yourself and it's a matter of learning by doing?
Yes, flying as part of Hike and Fly—well, in the air, there isn't much of a difference, I'd say, unless you don't have that kind of swarm intelligence as often as people are in the air flying at a launch site, or if they aren't because a front is moving in, but the big difference is actually on the ground, as I said, like assessing the launch or a bit of the weather beforehand. Yes, and those are actually things that get cut short in training, I'd say, so they don't really come up with the intensity that you need. That's why it's more of something you have to teach yourself.
Would you say that, in terms of the time that would have to be spent on it, it would make sense to build something like that into a training course? And what would be the things where you'd say, I wish I had learned that at my flight school?
Yes, the question is whether it makes sense to actually include that in the standard training, because the majority of pilots probably won't be heading in that direction, into such extremes, in the first place. That is to say, I would say it doesn't really have to be in the training, but there should be more advanced courses for it. There should be dedicated Hike-and-Fly advanced courses.
give. If you were to offer a Hike-and-Fly training or advanced course now, what would basically be the content? What could I learn from you? You're also a flight instructor, so you've probably already given it some thought.
That is actually something I would really like to do, starting as early as next year. I think I'd like to give people a tool that covers everything from A to Z, from the ascent to the launch.
Yes, is it allowed? Is it doable? Is it somehow problematic or possible for other reasons? Where they can decide at every step, is this a hike-and-fly I can do? Like how I do it here from home, with all the experience I have by now, you have to be able to do that somehow even if you don't have the experience yet. And not everyone is sitting there in the valley looking at it. And not everyone looks at the mountain and knows that it always works on Tuesdays when the sun is shining. That means it also has to work remotely, from a distance. I'm currently working on a, let's say, a tool, I'd call it that, a ten-step plan or whatever you want to call it, where you check off all the points regarding your goal and then can make a decision.
Do I head down or do I go up today, and is this for me? Ten-step plan. What would those steps be? I mean, ten is just one...
that was just kind of a made-up number. Then five plus x steps, but what would be typical steps that you'd check off or go through?
...would you have to? I mean, the question at the very beginning is always, what kind of inspiration do you even have? So, how do you come across the mountain? How do you come across the tour? And how do you know if it's a nice tour? So, a bit of the selection process. Like, how do you come up with the...
How do you come up with the mountain? I don't mean geographically, like I'm taking the bus, but how do you even get the idea to start on this specific mountain? Exactly.
How do you come up with the idea for this tour? That's where it actually starts. A lot of people have an idea, for example. They've watched a video and want to go up there too. But some just drive past a beautiful mountain. So there are just incredibly many ways to get to it. And after that, it's really just a matter of: is it possible? Once you've identified a goal, it's just a question of whether it's possible. And there's the physical level. So, what's the route like? What are the difficulties? What difficulties does the route have? There's the legal level. So, is it allowed? It's already incredibly complex when you look at the differences there from canton to canton, from country to country, from area to area.
That means it's actually a very big point. Answering whether it's allowed? And of course, then also whether it's doable? So not just the mountaineering side, but also the aviation side—is it launchable? What are the wind influences like? Is it a mountain that's more affected by an altitude wind or rather by a valley wind or other influencing factors? Those are sort of the overarching steps.
Wouldn't those also be questions that, whether for hike and fly or just flying, one shouldn't really just learn as a pilot in order to be able to answer them?
Yes, some things are certainly relevant and overlap. But in areas where it's mainly paragliders—not hike and fly, but paragliders—traveling along a railway line, you have completely different
information sources. It starts with the flight school having a page about this mountain that says, "Watch out, there's a valley wind over there, best to launch east around 11 a.m." And by the way, there are also problems, like nature conservation to keep in mind over there. That means the information you have for official launch sites is usually pretty easy to access. And that means a completely different kind of planning is required compared to when you're really saying, "I want to do my own thing on that specific mountain I want."
Do you always want to know everything, or is it sometimes like, before I find out that I might not be allowed to take off there, I know I'm pretty much sure I'm alone on this lonely mountain and probably in the evening when I go up there and say I want to do the evening glide, no one will see me or disturb me or anything else up there. How often would you say, okay, eyes closed, I'll just do it?
Well, the more experience you actually have, the more appealing it is to leave a few things open and just trust that you'll manage it well. I would never go completely alone; if I'm really out there by myself, I'd at least tell someone who's monitoring my live tracking. So I would definitely never go out completely alone or be alone. But I do like it quite a bit when I've seen a snow slope up there and I know it's lightly windy, and we'll see about the rest during the tour. With increasing experience, that's naturally also appealing, yes, definitely.
How do you actually feel about Hike & Fly races? Is that a discipline that's somehow interesting to you? Or do you say, no, for me Hike & Fly is just about enjoyment, I don't want to get into that competitive character at all? So...
Right now, I have to say, it's actually mainly about the enjoyment and also the social aspect of being out together in a relaxed environment; Hike & Fly races don't really interest me that much at the moment. I don't know if that'll ever happen. I don't think so. What I do quite like doing, because it fits with what I'm actually looking for in Hike & Fly, is that I just accompany a Hike & Fly race. That means I make sure I'm at the launch sites at the right time, where the pilots are probably also, and then I go up there and just do a Hike & Fly there, watch a bit, and then go to the next launch site and do the next Hike & Fly there. So I'm sort of nearby and
but within the same framework as I do it otherwise, without participating, without any pressure.
With your planning experience, you could also offer yourself to some X-Alps teams, where you say, "Look, I'll see where you guys can best head out from next," because I can figure out very quickly with my experience which mountains might work and where you could do something.
Yeah, sure, I could maybe do that, but you have to say, this is at an absolute top level and I'm missing a lot of things from various areas—actually, I'm still missing a lot, especially when it comes to the routes and so on, because all of that plays a role when you can't just say it's not that important whether I'm pushing my limits here or not. So, that means at the moment, I'm definitely only a good choice under certain conditions, otherwise rather... How
has changed
has your attitude towards hike and fly changed over the years?
Actually,
What has changed the most is that I've really noticed what's possible, and that gives you a certain sense of freedom. Of course, freedom within the limits you have, like nature conservation, legality, etc., but simply that I know all the things I imagined would be great back when I wasn't flying yet are actually possible. And right at the beginning, when I flew for the first time—or that very first hike & fly in the Lechthal back then—I first thought, okay, the things I want to do there, you probably won't get to them. That means my perspective was actually a bit limited, and now I'd say,
I've only been doing this for a few years now, so I still have a lot to learn, and the limit is actually somewhere else entirely; basically, almost anything you can dream of is possible. That's changed over time.
If Hike & Fly is your main focus, how often do you do actual normal cross-country flights where you say, I really want to be in the air for hours? Yes, in combination
with a hike every now and then. But of course, you always have to say that the hike does take a certain amount of strength. And going up by train or just flying, I do that almost never. Well, rarely, maybe in the evening to get up quickly, but not as a plan, because if the weather is such that I can fly, then I can also hike, and for me, that's a complete experience, which is why I don't skip it.
If you're saying hiking is strenuous, what kind of elevation gain are we talking about on your normal hikes that you plan for yourself? Is it always at least 1,000 meters of ascent that's included? That
it's usually not like that.
That's in the
Focus. Well, it depends on the mountain. If it's a high-altitude tour, then it's more, and if it's just a generally high mountain, it's probably around 2,000 meters of elevation gain. Otherwise, I think the average hike and fly is probably about 1,000 meters on average. But that's actually irrelevant. I mean, how much... that's the distance you need to cover to get up there, and it's as long as it is. And the goal is somehow to start where you really want to start. And I just have to get there.
From an entire tour, if you were to say, what is actually the peak moment? Or where you say, I had the most happiness on a tour like that. Is there always such a moment? Is it the start, when you say, I really hiked up and I made it to where I thought I wanted to start? Or is it only the landing at the bottom, when you say, now it's all done or something? So are there things where you would say, yeah, if anything, this moment is usually it?
I think I have two moments that, for me, somehow...
...pure moments of bliss, just really.
First of all, it's the moment where I'm there and have that comparison between what I imagined and what I'm actually seeing, for example, the launch sites. I might have two or three options. I already pass two of them on the way up. There I know, okay, that's safe. But now the question is, this one launch site up there, is that possible? And when I see how it unfolds, and I've already thought to myself, like, I've already thought that it goes down like this or that it goes back up there, that it's possible. I always find it nice to see that somehow. How does that fit with the planning? And the moment of takeoff, I mean during the start, I think that's always the peak. So this moment where you leave the ground, that's when the flying is so tangible. Later in the air, you're in the air, that's often somehow hard to grasp. But this moment of takeoff is simply,
that's the immediate moment where you're actually flying. And that's a beautiful moment.
Is it a different moment for you when you've taken the lift up for your evening run, where you say, "Ah, I'll just take the lift so I can get up quickly"? Or do you actually say, "No, I'm going to hike up there for two or three hours beforehand"?
No, it's a bit like what Reinhard Messner also says: you miss out on the mountain a bit by going on foot. So if you start from below and arrive at the top, you've understood the mountain a bit more as a mountain. When I take the lift up, it's almost like a piece of sports equipment. The mountain is actually just the ramp that's a thousand meters long. And what the mountain actually is, how much distance is in there, you hardly get that. That's why I really notice how that's missing—the feeling for the mountain—when you haven't hiked up there. It means that by hiking, you make the mountain your own? No, not your own, but a bit more, I get into a bit more of a connection with the mountain, just in touch with the mountain. And I've gotten a feeling for the mountain.
Not "to own," of course. I mean, you're just tiny in comparison to...
these mountains. Do you fly differently or even better when you already have a feel for a mountain? I'd say I...
I definitely have more appreciation for the flight. And I know what it cost to get up there and actually fly. If you go up in 15 minutes by gondola, it's like an attempt. I can just go back up again. But if you know you've been hiking for three or four hours, then you know what it's worth to fly down.
You showed me around your apartment earlier and showed me a few things. And I'd just say, apparently, you've really gone all out on this Hike and Fly thing. Because now you've started sewing your own gear too. What are you doing there? And why did you start making your own stuff? Isn't what Advance and whoever else offers as a manufacturer enough for you?
That actually started back at the end of my mountaineering days, I'd say, so before I started flying. It just fit perfectly with Hike and Fly because, with Hike and Fly, it's just the nature of the thing that you want to travel light. Actually, everything
extra weight is just annoying on a tour. Being light to hike is a completely different feeling than being out there with 15 kilos. This planning is just sort of how I'm wired, naturally. It also translates to the fact that I like to simply plan what gear I have with me or what gear fits me perfectly. And the market is of course limited, because really light things, or fragile things, or things that are truly perfect for my niche or my interests, aren't necessarily suitable for the masses and therefore don't exist. That's understandable too. And so I started saying, well, okay, if I need this backpack with the loops in that specific spot with that weight range,
where is it closer than making it yourself? So I developed something a bit and gave it to my girlfriend. She thankfully sewed it for me. And then I realized that it's already kind of great that you end up with a backpack or something else that suits you perfectly. But that the development and the sewing, when they're in two different hands, don't necessarily fit together perfectly. And that's why I just said, this has to be a one-stop shop. So I started sewing myself, learned how to sew. And since then, I've been trying to produce exactly the things I need for a hike and fly. Starting with backpacks, but also tents and sleeping bags.
I also tried sewing clothes all the time for a bit. But that would be difficult. I mean, everything you actually need.
It's not like you're saying, okay, I have this backpack from manufacturer XY, I actually like it quite well, but I'm going to pimp this idea and say they actually placed the buckle a bit stupidly. In my thing, I'll do it differently. Instead, you're really designing your own products where you say, I have a completely unique solution for how I think it should be done best.
Yeah, you can of course look at little things like that. Like specific solutions for a problem, like how to attach something, a pickaxe or something. But the ideas that have actually worked out for me, the ones I like to use daily, so to speak, on a hike and fly, I've more or less developed those myself. And for me, it's really the ultimate fulfillment to brood over a problem like that for hours at night, to find the perfect solution that also weighs nothing. And then to actually implement that. I think that's like its own discipline in itself.
Is there actually something like a do-it-yourself scene in this Hike and Fly scene? Like a community, which exists in other areas, so it definitely does. Where you exchange ideas with others and say, "Look, I've designed this backpack model and I'll show you my pattern. What do you think of it and everything else?" And you exchange things like that in some chat groups. Does something like that exist? I mean, do you take part in anything like that? There are...
Sure, there are people in the hike and fly scene who also sew themselves. But what I rely on more is the community, which is much larger in the hiking world. There's this kind of ultra-light trekking forum or something. So, people who are mainly out in the mountains, who don't necessarily have anything to do with flying, but who are incredibly committed to posting their own designs in these forums. You can exchange ideas very well there. They are also absolute gram-hunters, even beyond what I consider reasonable. But no, there's a lot of expertise online and many ideas—especially ideas about expertise regarding materials and all that technical background—that you can pick up very well there.
Which of your products are you particularly proud of?
I think it's hard to say. I mean, I made a backpack that isn't anything special, but I noticed that I just fundamentally always preferred it over store-bought products because it just works. It works best for me, and that's what matters in a way, on one hand. On the other hand, technically, I think I'm proudest of a quilt—so an open or semi-open sleeping bag—because it was just so demanding to design, construct, and sew. A real down sleeping bag. Exactly, a real down sleeping bag with the back open, because you just lie flat on the down there anyway and
I've already tested that one too, and it works great—it's like a store-bought product, only tailored exactly to my body size and with just the right amount of down, the way I like it.
because when I'm sleeping outside, that's why.
it works perfectly. And it weighs a third less than a normal one because that back part is just missing?
Exactly, so compared to a sleeping bag, they weigh less, or I'd say you just get more warmth for the same weight, because the down can be on top and really insulate—that's what the mattress does in that case, that's basically what it's there for—so it weighs a bit less. I didn't come up with the concept myself, I mean the quilt concept, of course that exists, but the way it's designed, like a footbox, how it's detailed, tailored or not, I've already incorporated my specific wishes into it somehow.
How often are your tours actually multi-day trips, or do you say, I'll go up, stay overnight maybe once, and then fly down the next morning or something like that?
Actually, rarely. But it's something I started doing last year and it's actually the, well, the next step for me, of course—so bivouac flying, not necessarily in the sense of bivouac flying where you cover a lot of distance with the paraglider, but simply tours that go over one night or over two, where you can also cover further distances or do big tours with an overnight stay. That's a pretty exciting topic for me right now this year, and I think it will also be a very big focus in the coming years.
to give on this topic. Is there a specific hike-and-fly dream you still have, where you say, I definitely want to tackle that in the near future?
I don't have one specific dream, but it's actually this bikepacking-and-flying that really, really appeals to me, and also the development of all the materials, the tents, and all that stuff—that really interests me. As a pure hike-and-fly dream, what I'd love to do is fly from a high mountain to the sea. So I've already been thinking about what I could offer. For example, you could climb Mount Rinjani on Lombok—it's a volcano, 3,700 meters high—and I'd say I could get directly to the beach with a Pi or maybe even a Bandham, and that would really appeal to me. Of course, you could do that with a lower mountain too, but to fly that far and just over jungle, over rocks, maybe best starting from a glacier and then standing in the sand half an hour later at 35 degrees—that's what I'd love to do.
That's actually a pretty interesting experience.
In all this development you've had with hike-and-fly, or with flying in general, did you ever experience any setbacks?
Yes, actually. So one or two smaller ones where I just say, maybe I'm not ready to take that risk anymore. Where I say, okay, that worked, it succeeded, the start was just risky, but it worked, but I wouldn't do it again. So I just learned from that to say, that was somehow a bit... I didn't have a good feeling about it in hindsight. And then I don't do that anymore. But on a larger scale, I actually got a bit of a fear of thermals. So at the beginning, of course, I was incredibly... I'm an athlete, so I got into it wanting to get insanely good at everything, so I naturally quickly reached for high-end gliders and thought, that's going well, and it did go well. I've never had a significant incident, a collapse or anything, but
I didn't feel good about it and I actually got a bit of a fear of thermals. Yes, exactly, the fear of not being able to get down, paradoxically. I also had two or three experiences where I got stuck in convergences with a high-performance glider. And yes, I definitely experienced those and then got a bit of a fear that stayed with me, but I then consistently went back to the A-glider, so back to the Pi, and from there slowly moved up again. I don't have to fly high-performance gliders for the next few years either. But is the fear of thermals gone now? It's definitely within a good range where it doesn't bother me, but I can imagine that if I were to somehow go with the Xi and Li -Gur stuff in a Leo or in a difficult,
I didn't feel good about it and I actually got a bit of thermal anxiety. Yeah, exactly, the fear of not being able to get down, paradoxically. I also had two or three experiences where I got stuck in convergences with a high-performance wing. And yeah, I definitely experienced that and then got a bit of fear that stayed with me, but I just consistently went back to the A-wing, so back to the Pi, and from there slowly back up. I don't have to fly high-performance wings for the next few years, at least. But is the thermal anxiety gone now? It's definitely in a good place where it doesn't bother me, but I can imagine that if I somehow fly into a non-entry area with the Xi and Li-Gur stuff in a LE or a difficult, I don't want to rule that out. That's why I make sure to take a rather conservative approach to things.
How has flying changed your life?
I think flying was the first of many sports I've done where so many things I enjoy come together. From the community to the planning aspect, to the fact that I can sew things myself—it's just that everything comes together and I can live out the things I like and am good at. I didn't have that before, which is why for a while it really became a kind of addiction for me. I have it a bit more under control now, but that was definitely it. I've gained an incredible amount of experience from it; a whole new area has opened up for me.
And I'd say it's also changed my life in the sense that I'm planning to move to the Alps in the long run—to move down there—so that I don't have to do it with all that effort and the carbon footprint.
And I'd say it's also changed my life in the sense that I'm planning to move to the Alps in the long run—to move down there—so I don't have to do it with all that effort and the carbon footprint. That means you'd turn your back on Cologne or leave it behind and say, "When the time comes, I want to live directly in the Alps." But then, would it be in Germany or really deep into the Alps, like the Central Alps? A lot of the tours I've seen are always in Switzerland and stuff like that. Then you'd have to say, "I need to go to the Bernese Oberland" or something. That's true, but then it would also be
no longer a vacation. That vacation feeling is also quite important.
So, still in Germany. For now, we're aiming for Kenten. My girlfriend already moved down a week ago. That means she's already taken the step. I'm moving after her. I can imagine trying out Switzerland. In the sense of working there for a year, if that's possible. But basically, Germany already...
...is still my home country.
Although hike and fly is a bit difficult in Germany, at least in terms of the legal situation.
That's right. It would have to be a place located on the border with the
more liberal countries. That
means getting on the German side and then saying somewhere on the Swiss side of the mountain, I at least started there. You could at least always pretend that you did.
Yeah, or just drive across the border from the start. You have to be mindful of that. Germany is definitely not the most hike and fly friendly country, let's be clear.
Out of all the experiences you've had regarding flying, are there things where you'd say—you just mentioned addiction—where there was a really negative experience related to that, or where you sometimes say you actually hated flying?
No, I haven't disliked flying so far. Maybe it's because I don't fly for long enough.
The negative experiences I'm observing are perhaps that
People neglect the fact that it is a sport that can also become very serious very quickly. So, for example, by saying, "Yeah, I've been flying for a while, so I can launch anywhere," or "I can launch," but in reality, they aren't training for it and can't do it, and then they put themselves in danger. So, actually, if you look at every launch site, every official launch site in Germany and Switzerland, you see a certain percentage of very dangerous launches—recklessly dangerous, I would even say.
What's the reason for that? I mean, why is it better in Switzerland than in Germany, from your perspective?
I think you have to say that in Switzerland, the training has a higher level, mainly because it's longer and they make sure you have more experience to get your private license there. And because I think there are also many pilots in Switzerland who simply live close to the mountains. And in Germany, there are also many pilots like us who live in the flatlands, for whom one or two weeks of vacation a year is the only time they can come to train, but who definitely want to fly. They don't have much to do with the mountains or their specific quirks, and then they just do things they might not be able to judge very well in the moment.
There are also, let's say, "flatland Tyroleans" there, I'd say—so from many of the people you're mentioning, you need certain takeoff skills to be able to judge such steep takeoff sites and get off them cleanly. But if you're not there and can't get there, there's actually no chance of practicing that. You have to be able to get to those kinds of conditions in the first place.
Yeah, that's true, but I'd say, yeah, you can do classic ground handling anywhere, and if you've been a bit lucky—I was lucky and I know there are some options around here too—then you can do it on a slope, on a small meadow that's tilted, so that when winter is approaching, you can quickly do your 20 or 30 starts in a row. Starts and landings, you might only fly 10 meters, but that's already a massive head start in terms of experience. So, I would fundamentally recommend that to everyone, to just take advantage of that, to see where I can just do something like that in this area. There are practice slopes everywhere, smaller ones, and if you talk to the people, they're usually very nice, and if you say I'm doing this for my safety, they're usually very open as well.
If someone comes along who says, okay, I can basically take off quite reasonably and stuff like that, and I'd like to do more hike and fly. Now, to wrap up, tell me, what would be a recommended tour where you'd say, based on the feeling you get or the experiences you have, that's a nice entry point?
That's a really difficult question; I'd have to go through a thousand tours. I can definitely say I'd recommend the Gniepen. Where is that? It's near Zurich, by Lake Zurich. The whole lake landscape there is just very appealing, also geologically appealing—there's a plateau that broke off or something, so in any case, something interesting for the eyes. At the top, you have a very easy launch site that is very forgiving, but at the same time, you have a panoramic view of the mountains—the white mountains, there are usually high mountains around there—but also of the lake region, and not just into the flat lake region like maybe at the Hochgrat or somewhere in Germany, but also into the lake region towards the mountains first, so somehow just an incredibly beautiful scenery with a launch site that goes in two directions, or maybe three, where you simply have a very high probability of takeoff, very easy and yet an incredibly beautiful flight; I can highly recommend it.
How did you end up on the Gniepen?
I think I drove past it. And I looked out the car window for a moment and thought, that must be a nice mountain for flying, right? You see a...
meadow, and you can see the drop-off and that there must be some path going along it, presumably, and then I thought I'd take a look at it, and it's a relatively well-known hike and fly mountain, it's not a secret tip in that sense.
Can you find the Gniepen in your videos? Yes, there is a Gniepen video. So guys, watch a Gniepen video, and then you'll know where you can best start with Hike and Fly, at least in Switzerland. Recommended by Florian. Florian, thank you so much for your explanation of your ever-escalating Hike and Fly hobby, with all the planning, DIY gear, and everything else. I hope you continue to have a lot of fun with it, and when you head into the mountains, I hope for less driving and even more running.
Yes, thanks a lot. It's great that we recorded your podcast. I'd love to.
Wait, stop, wait, stop. The podcast isn't quite over at this point. Because right after our conversation, Florian revealed to me that he would also like to say something about paraglider pilot training. So I pressed the record button once more, and so there's a little addendum. Since you're a teacher yourself, you have a didactic background and all that. Now you've also done flight training. Did you experience that as being good, or would you say, no, actually there are quite a few things that could be done better?
So, I'd say I had a good experience with it. We had a lot of fun, I'd say.
Now, from a learning psychology or didactic standpoint, if we're being honest, yeah, that was—I'd say—any instructor would have failed with us. It's just, it's simply outdated, I'd say. So, what you know about learning psychology or what you know about motivation and didactics, that actually doesn't play any role in a standard paraglider training.
Are we talking about the theoretical training now, or is the practical training not didactic enough either? Yes,
...mainly through the theoretical training. I mean, in practical training, especially in advanced courses, there's already a huge wealth of experience and so on. But as far as theory goes, I have the feeling—my feeling, based on what I've talked to people about—is that they see it more as an obligation. Like, there's this theory part, someone has to teach it here. Who's going to do it? Hopefully, someone will step up. And the people who do end up doing it might be enthusiastic pilots, but it's also okay and understandable that they often have nothing to do with teaching at all. They might be mechanical engineers in their other lives and do this as a vacation, earning a bit of nice money. And of course, that reflects in the way they teach.
Those are exactly the experiences I've had as well. And I really have to say, I'd almost like to create some awareness that there's actually still a lot of potential there. The question, of course, is whether you have to exhaust it all in these standard training courses. Maybe a little bit, I'd like that. But where you can really exhaust it is, of course, in advanced training. Then people just book it because they still have an interest in a specific area. Be it cross-country flight, be it fly, or whatever.
I can tell one or two stories if you'd like. Yes, please.
Those are things I've experienced a bit too. You have to see that in an A- or B-license theory course, you actually have an extremely heterogeneous group sitting there. So, in the front left, there's the woman who writes everything down on her iPad. In the back right, there's the Lufthansa pilot who's just starting out as a glider pilot. Then you've also got the person who knows a ton about meteorology, weather, wind, and everything else. And then there's me, I'd say, the one who asks very interested questions and is sometimes a bit cheeky. And you have to manage the group well in a theory situation like that. But in reality, everyone is the same. That's the material. Have fun learning. And there
the group basically isn't being met where they are at all. And of course, you could—you should—go into that much more. What kind of people are these? What am I actually doing here at the front? Is this a frontal lecture, a 90-minute presentation? Or am I doing this interactively? Or what else can be done? Am I providing an initial impulse? Am I letting the people participate interactively here? Or whatever. There are so many possibilities that we've encountered, or that I like to think about for my students out of personal interest as a teacher, which basically don't exist in the paragliding scene.
But isn't that a bit of an overstatement? Especially since you're saying the groups are so heterogeneous. And every group is different. So, if you're working as a teacher in a school, you always get heterogeneous classes too, but they're all somehow 17 years old or 15 or something like that and
...have at least one thing in common from that perspective. Now, for these people, maybe the commonality is that they all want to go flying. That's it. But you can't really say, "I'm preparing something for this group," because basically next time you won't have the Lufthansa pilots, but maybe someone completely different and whatnot. And then things come up where you'd say that a flight instructor might not even want to put in that kind of effort or take on that task.
Well, it's not an effort at all. That's actually looking at it from the wrong perspective. You don't prepare for a specific group; you prepare your didactic concept so that it's flexible. So, regarding the school—you said it's relatively similar there, they're all 17. The truth is, especially with inclusion in a German school, it looks completely different. These groups are incredibly heterogeneous. Let me put it this way: in sports, I might have three athletes who can play every ball sport if I'm doing volleyball, then I have 70 percent of the people who are average to somewhat talented, and then two from a club. So the range is incredibly high. And what I'm saying is really just to use that heterogeneity as an opportunity.
That means, for example, you could just ask, "Who knows what? What are your prerequisites? What do you know? What can you do? Are you good at anything?" And then just involve the people, for instance, as experts. For example, if I know that you're in my seminar, and I know you know everything about weather, meteorology, and all the things I might not be perfect at, I'll ask you. And I'll do it in front of the others. Then you can just share your knowledge. Everyone has their own knowledge or their own expertise. Not everyone has to be involved, but there are often extremely good opportunities. And those don't constantly depend on someone being an expert or being good at some topic, but for example, simply by someone liking to ask questions or wanting to know things in more detail. And I have certainly experienced that this was perceived as a problem when people wanted to know more, because it wasn't planned that way at all.
This was actually intended to be a lecture. So, here is the material. And it wasn't planned at all for someone to actually ask questions and show interest. And I think it's just important to be flexible in that way, to say, hey, there's so much to learn on so many levels, and to involve people and create motivation interactively—that's something I take with me. And I don't want to just complain now; I want to do it better myself in the area where I have a bit of expertise.
I always imagine with something like this, I feel like this theory should actually never be taught in a room.
Because paragliding always takes place outdoors, and I believe you can do a lot of the theory practically on-site. And it's not just the meteorology you see at that exact moment, but where you actually say, we're in this flight area now and let's take a look here on-site. Let's actually look at an airspace map or something. And if we want to fly there and plan for that, then what would we have to consider? And why does this airspace have to be observed this way? Or what does that mean? And then you could probably reach people much more practically because they're looking out at the landscape and saying, oh, it starts right over there. Or oh, I'm only allowed to do this, what does that mean? I'm only allowed up to 2400 meters, that's not higher than the mountain over there or something. Then you might get a completely different perspective on it.
Yeah, you're touching on a super important point there: the practical connection. For example, when I was sitting in the Beerschein theory class, it wasn't clear to me at all whether I was just learning to answer exam questions, or if I was sitting there because I'd actually need it later in flight. And the teacher couldn't answer that for me either. I said, "Well, fine, if we're just going to power through this, at least let's focus on the questions correctly so we can at least pass the exam easily." But no, that wasn't what was being asked. Shouldn't it be some kind of middle ground? I told myself, "Okay, I'm really missing the practical connection here that you're mentioning." You can't do everything outside or anything, but there should be a link, or there should be practical examples, or it should be interactive so that people actually have to start thinking instead of just sitting there.
And some of those things are best done outside. In the end, you just have to get out there.
You also mentioned earlier that you might be planning to offer some training or something similar in the hike-and-fly area. What would you do then? And how would you go about doing that? I
I'm noticing that a lot of people are starting to fly with the goal of doing hike-and-fly, just like I did. And I know exactly what kind of questions I had at the beginning and what kind of problems I simply or still have—things like planning well or even just knowing if it's possible, if it's okay to do it with a clear conscience. I think there's already a very high level of interest and also a bit of a need for people to say, "Why is no one actually taking me under their wing and giving me a tool and explaining how I can do this safely, well, legally, and simply with a clear conscience, so that I can actually fly down at the end and not hike up ten times in the midday heat only to not be able to fly anyway?" And yes, I'd like to offer that, and I'd like to offer it in a way that really gets people involved and is actually motivating and somehow refreshing, rather than separating theory and practice as two different things that have nothing to do with each other.
And there are many ways to do that—to put it poorly, from my everyday life as a teacher—that one can simply use, and I'd probably like to offer that starting next year.
If you do that, under what name would one find it? Also Peak & Fly, or is that your brand name? Exactly, that
You could also find it under Peak & Fly; it's currently being set up, so the info will probably only be available early next year. There might be a way to sign up soon, and then you can get it directly if you're interested—it's completely hassle-free.
Now, if you want to learn more about Florian Hofmeister's projects, you can find some further links in the show notes for this episode on Lu-Glidz. Lu-Glidz is the Gleitschirm-Blog to which Podz-Glidz belongs as a podcast. I am the producer of both offerings; my name is Lucian Haas. If you are already a supporter of Podz-Glidz and Lu-Glidz, thank you. If not, then please support me in continuing to serve the paraglider scene. As a freelance journalist, I invest a lot of time into this, and it needs to be financed somehow, especially since this isn't a hobby project but part of the work I do for a living. As a supporter of Podz-Glidz and Lu-Glidz, you first have to commit.
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