The task of security—not even the task of the apartment right now, but simply moving away from a relatively pre-planned or well-structured career path, like "hopefully I won't go bankrupt this year," into a weather-dependent job where income is often difficult to predict, simply not knowing what happens in future planning, where it all leads. It's just more of this living in the moment, which is something many people can't really relate to—this decision to choose adventure. And at the same time, there are people who say, "Hey, I'd love to do something like that too."
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with Celia Viermann. And I am Lucian Haas.
Imagine you studied physics, you're even working on your doctorate in... such a complex field as quantum physics, then you take a paraglider course and the first time you spiral into a thermal, it changes everything for you. Flying doesn't let go of you anymore; from then on, it completely dominates your thinking. Instead of the lab, it pulls you out into the world to go into the air everywhere.
This is the beginning of Celia Viermann's story. In this episode 187 of Podz-Glidz, the 36-year-old from Heidelberg doesn't just tell us about it, but also about how she is today, five years later, as a sort of nomadic flight instructor without a permanent home, constantly on the move between Latin America and Europe to introduce flight groups to cross-country flying.
Besides, she also finds the time and motivation to enter Hike-and-Fly competitions. This summer 2026, she will participate in the X-Pyr, crossing the Pyrenees. We'll see how Celia trains for this and what her ambitions are in the coming years. That's also what this podcast episode is about.
By the way, I can only present such stimulating conversations because there are sponsors who financially support my work on the podcast and blog. Join in. You can find out how on the paraglider Rock Nuglides, specifically on the "Support" page.
Celia, looking at your life, I get the impression you could be described as a paraglider nomad. Do you see yourself that way too?
Yes, definitely. Just by the fact that I'm rarely in one place for longer than a few weeks and then I keep changing locations. Yeah, it is, it's a bit of nomadism. It's softened by the fact that I keep going back to similar places. So, back to Mexico again, back to North Macedonia again, back to Colombia again. And I already know so many, many people there by now. And now it feels more like I have many different homes that I go to one after the other. But it's definitely also this nomadism, that the change of location is part of it and that it's like a little fresh start every time. But that's also very, very nice. It makes it very varied.
Is there still a place where you'd say, that's my main home, or whatever you'd call it?
So, I have some friends in Heidelberg. My father also still lives there. That's where I went to university. That's still like the main base. But in terms of time, my main base is Mexico now. So, in the sense that I'd say the place where I spend the most time, where I also feel very at home, that's Mexico. But in Germany, it's Heidelberg.
So Heidelberg would be the genetic home, let's say. Or where you'd say, I'm still family-wise at home there. But if you took the pilot community—the pilot family—you'd say that one comes more from Mexico.
Exactly, that's mainly Mexico.
How did Mexico become a sort of home base for you? At least for part of every year. How long do you actually spend there each time?
So Mexico is the winter base. I fly in in October, usually to Mexico in early November, and I'm there until March or early April. From there, I also go to Guatemala and Colombia in between, but I always go back to Mexico. So the long flights are to and from Mexico. And in terms of flying, I'm there for about two and a half months. And it was really a coincidence that I came to Mexico. I mean, at some point in the first year when I started flying very intensively, and then winter came, it was somehow clear that I had to go somewhere warm. I had already cancelled my apartment by then and was living in my car. And it was getting cold, very cold.
And then it became clear that I had to go somewhere where I could fly over the winter. And a few months before, I had coincidentally met Jochen Henrichs at a campsite in Slovenia, who has his own flight school and has been offering tours to Mexico for, I believe, almost 20 years.
Airtouch Flight School, right?
Airtouch flight school, exactly. Airtouch flight school, which I'm working for now. And back then he said, "Come to Mexico, it's cool, you can fly every day." Which is actually true. I mean, we didn't have any, well, one day was cancelled this season. But otherwise, it's really flyable every day.
And then I asked if I could come for like two weeks. I'd like to fly along for two weeks. And in the end, it turned into like three months that I spent in Mexico. Yeah, since then, Mexico has kind of become my home. Partly because I also work for Airtouch and go back every year. But also simply because the flying community there is sensational. Just super, super nice pilots. Well, yeah, it's hard to describe, you have to experience it. But really, really, really, really cool personalities, and also how this community as a whole interacts is just super nice. But
Is that a place in Mexico where you're mainly based? Like Valle de Bravo or something else? Or do you, as Airtouch, offer tours where you said you basically tour across Mexico and fly in the north, fly in the south, or whatever?
Both, both. So, our main tour is in Valle de Bravo, which is like the aviation Mecca in Mexico. And flying every day, that's only in Valle de Bravo. Everything else doesn't have quite that same microclimate. Yes. We're also in Tapalpa a lot, we're in Colima, we're in Fortín de las Flores, and since last year, at the beginning of this year, we've also had a tour on offer where we travel around. So, we visit different flight areas within two weeks and try to show more of the country. And the community is totally networked. It's like everyone hangs out in all the flight areas and everyone knows each other.
And they already know. Oh, the Germans are coming again, AirTouch. Or are you practically half-Mexican by now? Have you adapted into the community so much that they say it's not really a German flight school that just flies in here somehow, but that you're actually part of it? Yeah,
Funny enough, what people always say is, "Advance is coming," because we often have demos from Advance with us. So we're an Advance school. And then it's always, "Oh, Advance is coming again, Advance is coming again." Otherwise, it's... And then Jochen and Celia arrive. So it's definitely linked to the names, that they know us all. And exactly, the Germans too, sometimes. The Germans are back. But above all, really the names.
You're working for Jochen Henrichs, or rather for AirTouch, as a flight instructor. As a flight instructor. But if I remember correctly, I think you started your license in 2021.
Yeah. Tell me briefly, how did it happen that you... went so quickly from "I'm starting to fly, I'll give it a try" to saying that flying is definitely your life, in the sense that it now makes up your entire professional life.
Yes, it happened very quickly. It was just that at the time I learned to fly, I was still working at the university.
You studied physics, right?
Exactly, I studied physics and I have... And
Also, you have a PhD? Yes. That means you're a Doctor of Physics?
Yes. I have a PhD in physics.
That's nice, a flight instructor with a PhD. There probably aren't many of those, but okay, go on. You got your doctorate and somehow ended up flying. How did that happen?
Exactly. So it was the final year of my doctorate when I basically said, for a summer vacation, I'll clear my head for two weeks. I signed up for an intensive course. So the typical promise of getting your A-license in two weeks didn't quite work out. But somehow, that was the... yeah, the starting point. And then I spent two weeks really in the Allgäu with Oase, that was the school back then. Flying, flying, flying.
And then I came back and didn't talk about anything else. So it was like, in the lab, okay, quantum mechanics is great and the atoms do this and that and whatever. But have you ever tried paragliding? You absolutely have to try it. And that kind of went on all winter. And during that time, I did my doctorate... I wrote it up, submitted it, defended it, and all that. And then it was in June, early June, I submitted it. And then it was clear, okay, now comes a free summer. So, somehow take a bit of time and then decide what happens next. Like, whether I enter the professional world, in industry, or stay in research or something like that. But for now, the plan was hiking, cycling, paragliding.
And I had also signed up for a guided paragliding tour. And I had my first thermals flight there. So, for the first time, I was caught in thermals over a launch site... And then it was over. In hindsight, I'm relatively glad that I finished trying everything first and then had my thermals flight. Otherwise, I think it would have been critical.
It could have happened—if you had already done a thermal turn before, you would have said, I'll just throw this out. Right before the end. I wouldn't even be defending my thesis anymore.
Alright guys, I'm out.
What was it that blew your mind? What did
what flashed you so much
from thermals flying, that you're saying, is that it now?
It's somehow this freedom of flying. Every time you're up in the air, I still find it incredible that it's even possible. That with just a piece of, let's put it provocatively, cloth and a few ropes, and then with the warm air—with what's created by the weather, by the sunlight—you suddenly have these possibilities to take off with such lightness and speed. The views you get, how you suddenly see the world completely differently, and how everything changes within seconds. I still find that incredibly fascinating.
Well, you're a physicist. And as a physicist, you should actually be able to explain it very well. Yes. The connections. I mean, weather is basically a lot of physics at its core, what's behind it. Yes. Aerodynamics is a lot of physics. Yes. And other things. Still, for you, it's a miracle.
Yeah. So
at least it sounds that way. It
there's still the difference between being able to explain something and being able to understand it. So somehow, I don't know, it sounds stupid on an emotional level, but somehow, just because it's in the foreground in the formulas and just because it's mathematically possible, it still exists and we get to experience it. And that difference is, I find it, extremely significant again. Yeah, it's hard to describe. But it's just that feeling you have in the air, I find it so different from anything else you experience in everyday life.
And yes, there are people who immediately understand what I mean. Those are often the ones who are also captivated by flying. And... yeah, somehow this freedom, also how precise you can be on the brake and how much of an impact that has, like how easy, how effortless you suddenly fly, even though we're actually not doing anything in the flying itself. And that it's physically possible, that there are formulas behind it, that's all fine. But that we actually get to experience it is something so unique.
With your physics studies. It just sounded like you even did something like quantum physics. Did I hear that right? So, things where you'd say that ordinary pilots—no, not ordinary people—can't understand that either. Or even many physicists say, okay, quantum physics, we can explain a bit of it, but we still don't understand a lot of it, what's actually really happening there.
Would you say that this search for the incomprehensible, or... yes, where you only approach things partially with an idea or a feeling, is what fascinates you so much? I mean, what fascinated you about physics, and what then also fascinates you about flying?
Yes, it's this understanding of complex systems. So quantum mechanics is intuitive, but only once you've learned it. Our normal everyday intuition fails completely. And you have to relearn it. It's a bit like that with flying, too; our intuition from everyday life fails. Because this system of thermals, of wind, we just haven't experienced that before. It's such a completely new world. And thinking your way back into it, developing an intuition for it. The formulas are relatively simple. So the formulas that determine fluid dynamics are relatively short. But the phenomena that grow out of them are incredibly complex.
And it's actually still one of the most complex problems in physics. I mean, it's not simple physics at all. And developing the intuition for it is something I enjoyed very, very much in physics—I think it was my strength there. And now in flying, it's on a completely different level. Because you feel it directly. Because every decision has a direct impact. Because you get immediate feedback on what just happened. And that's what makes it so great.
What did your physics colleagues say, or maybe your father, when you said, I've finished my physics career with the doctorate, but I'm dropping it for now. I'm giving up my apartment, I'm going to travel nomadically, and I'm basically just going paragliding to find my luck, my intuition, or whatever, and put that into practice. Was that understandable to them in any way, or did they just say, okay, now Celia has completely lost her mind?
Yeah, very different. So there are people who think it's cool that I dared to take that step, to some extent. Basically, to say, okay, what I've worked toward for years is finished, I'm doing something completely different now. Of course, there are also some who say, hey, are you crazy? Why, you've put so much time into this, so much time and effort, and you've learned all of this and now you can't do much more. You could just find a comfortable, well-paid job without any problems, and instead, you're starting to tour the world. I'm just talking to the ones who think it's cool.
That's also a good solution, of course. For the people who see you from the outside, what's the main difficulty for them—that you've basically given up your career, the physics career, or that you've given up your lifestyle? Um... So, you say you gave up your apartment and said you're only living in a car for now and driving around in it, and then, okay, if you're in Mexico, you probably have some accommodation where you stay, but that's only rented for that specific time or something. But the fact that you say you no longer have a home in the form of an apartment, a little house, whatever it is, where you say, "That's my base." Yeah. What is harder for people to take?
It varies a lot. So, at some point, I was told about a lunch at the Physics Institute where someone mentioned that I had completely stopped doing physics, and apparently, that lunch was ended. Aha. Because several professors were like, "What, that can't be true," and then apparently it was over. They rushed out and then it was... I mean, I didn't experience it myself, I just heard about it.
So, basically a huge shock. A
huge shock. That was the—that's the physics side. There, physics is the most important thing there is, and then giving up physics is just not an option. For normal people or non-physicists, it's the main thing, the task of security. So, it's not even about the apartment right now, but simply moving away from a relatively pre-planned career path or a relatively well-structured career path into
Hopefully, I won't go broke this year. I mean, it's just a weather-dependent job where the income is often difficult. I mean, everyone knows flight instructors aren't exactly known for being incredibly rich. And just not knowing what happens in two years, what happens in terms of future planning, where is all this leading? It's about choosing to live more in the moment, of course accepting that it's colder at night, that it's a lot of giving up comfort—that's something many people can't really wrap their heads around. So, this decision for adventure. And at the same time, there are people who say, hey, I'd love to do something like that too.
Actually, I've met many people who say, "Hey, I'd love to do that. I think it's cool that you're doing it." And many who maybe dream of it too, but don't dare to take the step. So, yeah, there are really very, very different reactions.
Why did you actually make such a hard cut? You could have also said, I'll try to somehow, I don't know, combine them. I'll do something with physics and I'll still fly, maybe just for myself, but I'll take a bit more time for it, or, sure, I might do some flight instructing, but only for two months in the winter, I'll go to Mexico and do something there, and for the rest of the year, I'll have my steady physicist job and no idea what one can do in the industry accordingly or something. Why wasn't that an option for you? Or was it, but it just hasn't happened yet?
I'm not really the type of person for compromises. Like, I often have this one thing I'm focused on, and so much goes into it that there's just no room left for much else. That was the case with physics, too—when I said, okay, I want to do physics and get my PhD, I put 100% into that, and then flying was so present that it was clear, okay, doing it on the side isn't going to work. When you're thinking about that thing all the time, when you're dreaming about getting back into the air all the time, it was so strong that I said, okay, I don't want to try to balance it out.
I want to really give it my all and see if it works. And so far, it is working, and hopefully, it will for much longer.
It almost sounds a bit like I should be negative about it, like some kind of addiction. Yeah, in the sense that I think about it all the time and I have to have it again, like the next flight shot has to get into my brain or something. Why do you think your brain reacts so much to flying? I mean, I don't get that into flying that much; I'd love to fly too, but the question is whether I'd say, okay, I'm dropping everything else just for that. But you did it. So what would you say, how is your brain structured that it says,
I need this? That's for the biologists, I have no idea.
I think, to some extent, it was because it was actually a time when I was going through a lot of change, like when I finished my doctorate and so on. It's possible that if I had been in a more stable job at that moment, it would have turned out differently or at a different time. But at that moment, I didn't even think about it. It was somehow an obvious decision to just go completely into paragliding.
That means you didn't dream of some kind of free nomadic life before, but rather it grew out of this impulse of paragliding, where you say, okay, I can only live this dream of paragliding by completely freeing myself from everything else.
Yeah, so it's not like I...
So, normal life doesn't feel like a sacrifice; on the contrary, it's something I really like and enjoy a lot. Even before that, I'd done things like canceling my apartment lease, getting on my bike, and riding to Portugal for two months without knowing what I'd do immediately after. That was between, well, before I started my doctorate. So, there were always these impulses before that too. And it's also the case that I always liked changing locations in advance—whether it was moving house or something like that; the tendencies were definitely already there. This didn't just come completely out of the blue.
But I never really thought about it. It was always like, okay, this is how life works. You have an apartment. You have a circle of people. Everything was nicely organized in its own way. And then, somehow, the courage to leave that conventional path. I don't think I would have had that back then. Everything had to build up first. And then, at that point, everything just clicked.
But when you gave it all up, you weren't a flight instructor or anything like that yet; you just said, I'm going to go fly. Was it already clear to you then, okay, if I want to go fly, I have to find a job in that field, build a professional standing so I can say I can really fly, and then make it my life's work? Was it like you said, then I'm going to go all in on this strategically, and I also know I have to become a flight instructor and so on?
Yes, so the idea of becoming a flight instructor came up very, very quickly.
I started working with Papillon. They have, in principle, a growth program. So you're more of a supporter, they call it, meaning you help out at the launch site and then basically start learning to be a flight instructor. And relatively early in my aviation career, I ended up at Papillon for my B license and met Johannes Künstler there, who helped me a lot and taught me a lot. And at some point, he also asked, hey, don't you actually want to become a flight instructor? And from then on, I was basically in this training.
Was that like a seed in your head, where someone said, don't you want to become a flight instructor? And then it goes boom, the little atomic bomb in your head goes off and says, yeah, I think that's it.
right now. Exactly, let's go. I'm all in.
It didn't take much. It always happened very quickly. But then the problem was that I wasn't even allowed to become a flight instructor assistant yet. There's a two-year waiting period. You have to have your A-license for two years before you're even admitted to those courses. And we tried to somehow get a special arrangement or something, but there was nothing to be done. So it really was the hard limit.
That means it was probably the financial hard limit for you too, because you're saying I have to somehow hold out here, I have to make it as a pilot, and maybe I can earn a little extra as a supporter, but that's not really something you can live off of.
Exactly. That
So you also put your savings into that?
Yes. Oh yes. Exactly. Thankfully, I still had some savings, specifically from the Corona period when you couldn't spend money but were still earning it; I had saved some up and was able to use that. But a big thing was really just living as cheaply as possible. So, I canceled my apartment, moved into my mother's car back then—an Opel Astra—so the seat height wasn't great, but it had a long wheelbase, so you could lie in there stretched out.
How
How long have you been living in this Astra?
Two and a half years.
Two and a half years in the Astra? Yeah. I mean, an Astra is like, basically a moving home, but basically like sleeping under a bridge, in a way, right?
Yeah. Yeah, you still have a roof. So
for everything you actually have to do, you first have to go out. Yes. I mean, you don't have a kitchen, you don't have a toilet, you don't have anything.
No. Yeah.
So you find surprisingly many tricks over time on how to somehow make it work.
But yeah, well, getting dressed eventually happened in the car, but washing and all that, you have to go outside. Definitely. You have
Did you ever think during that time, at some point in between, why am I doing this to myself? Or was your will to paraglide so great that you said, no, this is just part of the freedom. This is just how this life is.
Of course, there were moments. I mean, at one point—and that was also a very funny moment at the same time—it just wasn't... I was sick and lying in the car and actually had a really, really high fever for a few days. And I think it was three or four degrees outside. So it was really cold.
Did you have a secondary heater? No. So it was three or four degrees outside, and inside with your breath and everything else, you probably brought it up to ten in the car? Yes, but
It was warmer under the blankets. Lots of blankets. And then there came the point where I said, okay, I have to drive to a supermarket, I need something to eat. And I somehow drove to the supermarket and turned on the heater, and it got warm, and then I turned the car off and just sat there in the car for a bit, enjoying how warm it was with the blower. And then suddenly the car died and the battery was dead. And then I was standing there in the drizzle in this Aldi parking lot, begging people if they could give me a jump-start with some kind of feverish desperation. And that was one of those moments where I thought, hey, you could just have it cozy.
But shortly after, it was like, hey, this is the life you chose. And life is so much better for me than sitting in a lab. So there were never long phases where I'd say, hey, why are you doing this? But there are always these brief moments. When you're wet, when it's cold, when you think, oh, why? But overall, no.
Now you're driving a converted Traffic, I think, so a slightly larger car. Why? Why did it take so long? I mean, if I imagine it, I'd be like an Astra. I can imagine that; I've slept in my car several times when I was traveling or something. But now to say, occasionally sleeping, or to say I'm living in it for two and a half years. Why didn't you say sooner, okay, if I'm going all in, then at least in a frame where I can also sit in my home?
Yeah, for a large part, it was just financial. I mean, the Opel was a working solution, and then at some point it died, so it wasn't a working solution anymore. And then it was just, okay, if a new car has to be bought anyway, then, thank God, it's a Telekom car—Telekom offloads their fleet from time to time, and then you get good cars that are already about 80 percent outfitted at relatively good prices. And I just got lucky that I managed to get one like that.
And you've been driving it ever since.
Yes, much more comfort than standing on a slope, that's great.
Now, tell me about your existence as a flight instructor. If I'm seeing or understanding this correctly, you don't give classic training courses, like a basic course or something. You're not standing on the practice slope with some people; instead, as a flight instructor, you're basically just a supervisor for Flugreisen. And then you're only with Flugreisen. Before
...all of that, yes.
What is your role as a flight instructor then? What do you want to pass on to your students?
It's various things. So the only thing we always try to achieve is relaxed take-offs, relaxed landings. That's why we say relaxed—because relaxed is also safe. Relaxed always means you're in control. The pilot has control over the glider, and it's not the glider controlling what happens. And the pilot is still somehow scrambling behind it, hoping that it goes well. That's why relaxed take-offs, relaxed landings. How you get there exactly is a bit different for everyone, depending on where the stress factor comes from. And we always try to work on that a lot. We're always happy when pilots accept that. So many also say, hey, I just want to fly here and leave me alone.
Then you only intervene if it gets dangerous. But that's the standard we set, saying, okay, these are the basic requirements, these are the basic requirements. And then, what I especially enjoy is flying cross-country with people. Taking people on cross-country flights. Then saying, okay, I'm your thermals joker. So I'll go into thermals among you. I'll do a spiral out or put my ears on and make sure I get under the people to mark the thermals. And then cross-country flying suddenly becomes very easy. If you can fly thermals a bit and then have someone marking routes, marking thermals, then people suddenly get huge wings, which before were simply
were outside of their own reach. And suddenly, it becomes easy. And getting that done yourself again is also much easier. So, once you've flown with someone, flying the same route again later. And that's how you can teach people how to fly cross-country. Without having to do an incredible amount of theory. I always enjoy doing the theory too. That's physics again. So I have a lot of fun with that. But not everyone necessarily wants to talk for hours about thermals, humidity, temperature differences, and so on. Exactly. And that's what I enjoy the most. Taking people along on cross-country flights.
Is this kind of being a flight instructor, where you basically co-coach people in the air? Yes. Is that something where you say, okay, I can live with that as a flight instructor—not from a financial standpoint, but emotionally—because I still get to fly a lot myself, since that's what actually thrills and fascinates you? Or do you reach points where you say, no, just being a flight instructor, even if I were on the ground, would still be a thrill for me?
I think if I were only on the ground, it would be difficult at some point. Although even that gives you so much. Like the moments when people land and are happy. That is so rewarding, it's so great, that I'd say it's an aspect that doesn't have anything to do with flying directly, but is just great. But if I couldn't fly at all anymore, that would be, like it is for many flight instructors, where the instructors hardly fly anymore, that wouldn't work for me. But now the mix, that I sometimes help at the launch site, then I'm usually in the air with them and flying along. And then, it
is a completely different kind of flying. So when you're guiding, you fly very differently than when you fly alone. But this focus on the others is also incredibly fun and then brings something back to your own flying as well. So it all kind of grows together. The overall mix is just great, it's so much fun.
To what extent does this guiding flight differ from flying on your own? I mean, what are the main differences?
The main difference is that the focus isn't on your own flight, but on the others.
Normally, you try to fly thermals as effectively as possible or you're happy if you're higher than others. But you have to completely forget that aspect and realize that this flight isn't about yourself, it's about the people you have with you. The pace has to be adjusted to the people who are there. The fun factor has to be adjusted. So especially when it comes to what is still safe and what is becoming demanding, for many people, the fun stops before it actually gets dangerous. So you say, okay, I still absolutely trust the pilot with these conditions. But I know that he or she probably isn't having any fun anymore.
And then it's like, okay, it's all still doable, but it doesn't make sense anymore because we're not here to, well, most people come flying to have beautiful experiences, to have cool experiences. And not necessarily to squeeze out every last bit. And it's often the case that you have to forget your own ambition, like I could still take you ten kilometers further, but to say, okay, we're finishing here, that was an awesome flight, and we're landing with a big grin instead of ten kilometers away with, wow, my heart was pounding like crazy. And there are also personalities who want that. They say, I want to fight until the last moment. And figuring that out, that's what a lot of those awesome flights are about.
So it's more about, there's a lot of psychology involved and often less focus on the thermals themselves. I mean, flying thermals is then sort of automatic.
How do you keep track of the people in the air then? Do you talk on the radio much? Like, do you notice, oh, he's starting to reach his limit now? Or can you also tell by the other person's flight style, where you say, okay, he's still flying thermals with focus. Now he's constantly opening up and turning like crazy. That actually works, it's not working anymore. I think he's reached his limit now.
Definitely flight style. I mean, some people will say over the radio, "I can't do this anymore, I'm going to land now." But you can see it very clearly in the flight style. Like, when the movements really become jerky—when you're not flying with the glider anymore, but just going right, left, right. Or when you can't center anymore, and you're no longer flying circles, but some big ellipses or zig-zags. You notice very quickly when someone is tired.
Do you apply that to yourself too? In the sense that you notice the things I observe in others—the mistakes they suddenly make or something like that—that you've developed a different observation for your own flight style? Like for yourself, you notice, "I'm not flying smoothly at all anymore. This isn't a circle I'm seeing on my vario anymore or anything like that. It's a hexagon, a six-sided shape, or I don't know what. It's totally not pretty anymore." Absolutely. Maybe I should go land instead of going another ten kilometers.
So, I think my limit is higher than the people who are with us. But I experience the exact same phenomena. When you get tired, when you haven't drunk enough, when you haven't eaten enough. So, all those factors. Absolutely.
Are those things you've noticed in yourself before, or are they things where you'd say that guiding—being a flight instructor—has brought you an incredible amount through observing others, regarding your own flying style or your own approach to flying, and then maybe your handling of risk and stuff like that?
Yes. I can't really separate them that much because I grew into it all at the same time. I started very early on with AirTouch, being introduced to XC guiding. So, basically, a Mexican guy named Luis Yepes, who is a very, very good XC guide—phenomenal, actually—took me under his wing very quickly regarding thermals. And then you get both the personal feedback and the feedback on how you would do it as a guide. That's why I can't really separate what my own flying is, or the lessons for my own flying, and what the lessons are as a guide, because for me, it all happened simultaneously.
So learning to fly XC while simultaneously being groomed to be a guide.
And exactly, Igor Todevsky from North Macedonia, he's also a very, very good XC guide, has taken a lot of thermals with him and shown a lot. And those are the ones,
Yeah, basically everything a flight instructor tells you can be applied to yourself. You're not immune to anything. Just recently, here during the Pyrenees training, you're always telling people not to look at the obstacle, but to look next to it. And two weeks ago, I was doing a top-level landing.
It wasn't really a critical situation, but then I somehow got a bit of a tailwind and stress, and then full speed into the thorn bush. Obstacle fixation and straight in. So you're not immune to that yourself. All the mistakes you see with flight students or even advanced pilots, you make them all yourself too. Yeah.
That's really all. We'll get to the Pyrenees in a moment. I have one more question about your guiding. How many people do you take under your wing at once? Do you say I fly with a maximum of five or a maximum of one? Or how large can a group be that you can still guide, still monitor, and still help out with when you're out alone, without losing anyone? Even after the first ten kilometers or something like that.
I can manage six to eight if they play along a bit. Like, if they listen to the tips and if parts of the group are willing to wait sometimes. So, as in, okay, I'm going to climb above the others in the thermals and we'll stay together a bit. We're not going to race ahead. Often it's like, if people start racing ahead too much, I eventually have to say, sorry guys, you're now... once we catch up to you, I'm back in.
But especially if they're too far away—I mean, I can manage about three kilometers in either direction, but at some point, they're out of sight. Then I can't help them anymore. But six to eight works well. It obviously becomes much more intense when I fly with one or two people. In those cases, when you only have one or two pilots with you, you can really focus on the individual pace. And when the group is larger, you often have to slow down a bit so that everyone has a chance to keep up.
How do you handle groups? I can imagine, especially in groups that say, "I'm booking a trip to Mexico," there are people who can actually fly pretty well, where you'd say they can already do a lot on their own. Sure, they still take something away from the guiding, but they're actually quite independent pilots. And then there are probably those who say, "Yeah, I heard they do guiding too. I don't have much experience on routes or anything, but I'll take that on, and preferably in the winter in Mexico." That sounds great too. And then you probably have a pretty large range of abilities in such groups. When you say you really fly with them, how can you bridge such a gap? And how can you maybe brake the more experienced, perhaps more ambitious ones, so they're willing to go along in the interest of the group?
to wait or do something else?
So right now in Mexico, it works perfectly because we take a maximum of twelve people, there are two flight instructors—so Jochen and I—maximum twelve people. And it's staggered a lot in terms of time. So the normal procedure is that we have pilots with us who are having their first experiences with thermals, sometimes jumping in completely fresh, where we say, okay, now we're going to help you into the first thermals. They start earlier. And the split is often such that Jochen starts the people or helps them with the launch, and I do the thermal radio from the ground—so I help the people into the thermals and thermal circles. And then at some point Jochen takes over the people in the air and I do a cross-country flight briefing for the day with the more experienced ones.
So, in a way, you say, okay, we're going to try to fly roughly this route. At these specific spots today, you have to watch out for the wind, the weather conditions, and so on. And we'll meet in half an hour over at the launch site. And then the people can already head out and start circling and gaining altitude. And then I go out last and try to take everyone along from below, and then we're off. Of course, on some days you say, okay, we'll fly a smaller task. The very experienced ones can try something on their own. And on other days we say, okay, yesterday we flew a small, smaller task. For the less experienced ones, you try to fly that one alone today. And I'll do a big one with the more experienced ones.
And it all works out quite well. It doesn't have to be everyone flying something big every single day. People don't even want that; it's just too much. Especially in Mexico, where you can fly so much, people often voluntarily say, okay, I just want a rest day today. I'll fly down today and go grab some food. And that's fine. And the cool thing about Valle de Bravos is that in the evening, you can have another really, really great flight. Often with what the Spaniards call a "restitution." It's not exactly a thermal, but a similar phenomenon where the whole plain is still hot and starts to lift off. And it's very gentle. And there...
And I often do the first XC flights with the absolute beginners, where we say, okay, for the first time we're flying three kilometers to a new spot and then turning back. And those are the evening flights. And for the experienced ones, we say, okay, just have fun. Enjoy it a bit more. No off-field landings. Just enjoy the view again. Enjoy the sunset. And because the conditions are so gentle, we start flying a bit of XC with the less experienced ones. And everything actually works out really well. But then we also have tours, for example in Colombia. There we say, we're doing long distances. So we try to get the people to 80 or 100 kilometers.
And we don't take beginners with us on those. So we say, okay, you need cross-country experience. And it doesn't make any sense to do that there.
taking someone along who is still figuring out thermals. So we really have the cited tours where we say, okay, we're giving it some power. And those are the long distances. But otherwise, many of these mixed tours, depending on the area, work perfectly.
If you look at your year like this, how much of this year are you really
How much of this year have you actually spent as a flight instructor? Is it four months? Is it seven out of twelve? I mean, what proportion would you say? You still fly yourself, which we'll get to in a moment, but what proportion of that is actually as a flight instructor, in terms of guiding?
So,
continuously, that's our peak season, so we say, okay, it starts in mid-November, we start guiding. And then it goes on continuously until mid-March. So with a few days off in between. Not just weekends, but really continuously. And then, for example, until mid-January, Saturday afternoons are free. And otherwise, it's really guiding every single day. And then with Guatemala booked, Colombia booked. We usually have two or three travel days. And then it's very continuous. Now in the summer, there's more time. Especially this year, a lot of time.
But otherwise, it's usually like you have a two-week tour, a week off, a two-week tour. What's new this year is that I'm also starting to be at the launch site for SIV training. So with Sicher Fliegen, I'm starting to work at the launch site there too. With Roman Schäffner. Exactly, I'm looking forward to that too. I think that's going to be really cool. Exactly, so there are more like weekly intervals between those. And this year is an exception because we said—we or Jochen, who is also my supporter for EXPUR—that we said as a team we're competing in this Hike & Fly competition and we're really taking a lot of time for the preparation. I'm doing it a bit differently this year.
Going back to the winter, when you say, okay, basically for three months straight you work at least six days a week and Saturday is free. Saturday afternoon. Or Saturday afternoon, yeah, okay. How mentally exhausting is something like that, or because it's flying, is there so much life in it for you that you'd say it doesn't exhaust me, but actually gives me energy?
It can be exhausting. It depends a lot on the group that's there at the time. So there are groups where it's just super, super, super. And there are groups—like "complainer groups" sometimes—where you put in the effort and think, "Man, that was perfect, such a great day," and the people are like, "My toilet paper isn't soft enough."
Really. So it's more that it's not
flight-related stuff, which can make it exhausting.
That can get very exhausting. So
everything else, interpersonal issues, and difficulties that might arise in that kind of situation.
Exactly, it can get very exhausting because as a guide, you're always involved with breakfast, going out for dinner in the evening—you're basically busy around the clock. And when you're with people you click with, it's super, super nice. But it can also become really emotionally draining, especially. You have to make sure you recognize that early on, because you're also responsible for the people's safety. So it's also about us being able to communicate as a team, like, okay, I really need a free lunch break now, or I need to step back this evening or something like that. And we can manage that.
So we can make sure to give each other breaks. Otherwise, it gets insane. You
did you ever have some kind of psychological training or anything like that as part of your education, where you'd say, I'm learning a few tricks or some ways to deal with people like this, how can you soften critical situations a bit or something? Or is that more like kitchen physics, what you do with that. I mean kitchen psychology, not kitchen physics, but kitchen psychology. I have a feeling of how I might still be able to get him.
We talk about it a lot. Especially right now, when we have people where it can be very different, like, somewhere at...
Starting block, for example. They've had a starting block for two days. How do we solve this now? How do we talk to the person about it?
Now, Jochen has 30 years of experience as a flight instructor, so he knows quite a few tricks. He learned them himself, too. But just talking about it, taking a step back—especially when you're personally a bit emotionally invested—just taking a step back. Sometimes just switching flight instructors helps, too. Just going through the whole thing with a different person.
And every time we see a different flight school, our ears perk up to see how they do it. What kind of tricks they have. There are so, so many tricks.
Yes, a lot of psychology, a lot of tricks. And then you try to figure out how to approach it again. And that often makes it exciting too.
Well, you're a woman. Paragliding is actually still very much a male domain. Probably on your trips too, there are likely significantly more men than any women who are along. Would you say that as a flight instructor, as someone who can also fly very well, you have an advantage with that, or is it a disadvantage for guiding?
It varies. In the end, it's always two personalities meeting somehow. The guide and the person coming along. And they have to click somehow.
If someone says now,
it can go both ways. It could be, okay, I think that's super cool, there's a woman flying and wonderful. But we also have one who says, loud and clear, I don't fly with women. Period.
That already existed?
Then it just doesn't work. They
...have booked the trip, and now I have to fly long distances with Celia here, and I don't want her to guide me. He keeps booking it too. No, no. I'll only take tips from Jochen, not from Celia.
Yeah, yeah. And I mean, you don't stand a chance there. We don't even need to try. But we know, okay, Jochen will do that and then everything will be fine.
You don't get ambitious about trying to crack him somehow, either. He'll eventually learn what he could actually have in common with me.
When it's that explicit, then it's difficult. So I often do have the ambition to try and win those people over. But sometimes, yeah, in that case, I've given up. If he wants to, he's welcome to fly with me again. Sometimes he does, and then denies it later. So there are cases. And it just has to fit. But often, I think sometimes this "oh, it's a woman guiding" makes a difference for some, but not for many. And it's simply a matter of having to deal with the personalities. And gender is naturally part of that. But it can just as easily be that someone says, okay, I can't deal with your way, or I can deal with your way especially well.
Or also people who say about a flight trip, I want to get drunk in the evening. And we're just not the right school for that. Because we say, okay, for a year and a half now, you don't drink any alcohol at all. So not on tour, and not otherwise either. And I think what significantly increased the quality of the guiding again is because you're simply fitter, because you...
...also, those people who say, "I want to get wasted in the evening" during a flight trip—we're just not the right school for that. Because we say, okay, for the last year and a half, you don't drink any alcohol at all. Not on tour, and not otherwise. And I think what significantly increased the quality of the guiding is that you're simply fitter, because you... ...also don't have that evening crash that often happens on tours, and you're just much more well-rested, much fitter, and can focus much more on flying. But there are also pilots who say, "Hey, I'm going on the flight trip because I want that beer on landing." And not just one beer, but I want to party with the people in the evening. And we are the completely wrong school for that. So, everyone finds the guides they want to go with.
Is that basically included in your description? Like, for the tours you offer? Are we sort of an alcohol-free flight school? Or do we only offer alcohol-free trips? You have to accept that there's no landing beer with us. People
Is that basically included in your description? Like, for the tours you offer? We're sort of an alcohol-free flight school. Or we only offer alcohol-free trips. You have to accept, there's no "landing beer" with us. People drink landing beer, it's not a problem at all. We just don't drink. So even if people want to drink, we don't have any issues with that. But it has an incredibly strong influence. Like, if we say, okay, we're not drinking anything, then half the group doesn't drink anything either. Then
they also drink less. And
then it automatically becomes a different...
So in that way, you're also sort of a role model as a flight instructor?
Incredible, yes. Sometimes it's even difficult for my own training because, for example, I'd like to practice more complicated landings, but I know exactly that if I do that in front of people, they'll copy it. Immediately. And then you always have to be very careful. So you're a very, very big role model. Both when flying and... also in everyday life, in life. What's funny, but I never would have thought that, for example, just because we say, okay, we're not drinking landing beers anymore, suddenly half the group stops drinking them too. I wouldn't have thought that.
Speaking of complicated landings. That's a good segue to finally get to the point of why I actually reached out to you in the first place. I found the rest of it interesting too, letting you talk a bit about the psychology of being a nomadic flight instructor. But you've also started doing Hike & Fly competition. I believe 2024 was your first one. You were at the X Slovenia. What do you remember about that?
From the X Slovenia?
That was a very funny competition. I was fascinated by Hike & Fly, and I said I really wanted to try it out. But I also had no idea what the big races were like at all. You know the really big ones, of course, but these entry-level races that you can then use to do 2-day or 3-day races. And somehow, I knew you could find XC competitions on Air Tribune, for example. And the only Hike & Fly on Air Tribune was X Slovenia. So I just signed up for that. I didn't have light gear, just normal heavy gear. And I didn't really have a clue how to do it either. And I just...
signed up. And then it said, okay, you absolutely need a supporter. So it's a supporter of the race. And it was like, nobody had time. And then I cleared it with a few of the org team, like, okay, I'll just come without a supporter anyway. And I somehow still had a sleeping pad with me, so I could sleep in the glider in an emergency. And then, well, it was somehow wildly planned. Or unplanned, rather. And it went completely wrong. And I thought, yeah, when you're in the air, the weight isn't that bad anyway. When you're flying, it doesn't matter. And on the ground, yeah, it'll be okay somehow. And then the weather was so bad that you could actually only
it was raining the whole time. And then I hiked for three days. I hiked until the very last moment. I also flew a few times, but mostly on the glider. But somehow it was cool, it was exciting. Then I had phone support. So I could call Jochen from time to time, who was supporting me from afar for the first time. And he was out with people at the same time. And I could just call and say, hey, I'm standing here at the launch site. Can you check the rain radar there? I barely have any reception here. Exactly, that was the first thing. And somehow it was still fun. I mean, the atmosphere in Hike & Fly is incredibly cool. So I was supported by all the other teams.
So every support car that passed by gave me food and all that. It's like, even though you're actually competing against each other, it's more like, okay, we're getting through this together somehow. And yeah, that was super cool. And since then, I obviously have super light gear now and everything has become more professional. We have the right support. Now, with Jochen, he's done support for me several times. And now for the first time with the second supporter too. I think by now, it's all grown a bit more, a bit more professional.
Was was then for you, in terms of feeling, this X Slovenia, where you say you held on? Yes. I mean, I made it through all three days. You'd also say, it doesn't really matter what my gear is like. That's not the point of it in the end. Was that the success for you? That you saw for yourself, ah, I'm holding on, and that's the success I'm actually going for?
It's a big part of it, yes. I mean, this endurance—I think with everyone in this endurance sport, well, it's even in the name, "endurance"—you hit your own limits very quickly. Because you push yourself right to the edge, and then it happens very fast that you just notice, wow, it's getting hard, it's getting exhausting, and then getting through that, it eventually gets easier again, funnily enough, but getting through those difficult parts, that gives you so much. It makes everything more intense, like this, fighting for it and then somehow a flight works out, and so many of my most beautiful flights are, were, or would be hike and flies, even though they were only glides sometimes, but that feeling that it worked out, and then you often fly into, into
from launch sites where you would never have otherwise started, and you see things you would never have seen otherwise, and that makes everything so, so intense. So it's a very, very intense experience, maybe every time, regardless of whether it goes well or not, but it really is a completely unique experience.
You saw, if I remember correctly, a sort of "failure" once. You took part in the Eiger Tour and had to call it off on the second day, or you did. How did you experience that and what was the reason for it?
It was really like I was mentally at my limit. I mean, the Eiger tour is a four-day trip, and what's special about it is that it's unsupported at first—you're out there alone, you have to take care of where you're sleeping, so that's an additional difficulty, having to plan so that you reach a hut in the evening or can sleep in some way. And it works a lot through top landings; there are an incredible number of waypoints, which are all huts, so mountain huts. You always have to top land at the mountain huts, take a selfie of yourself—so that's it, you're standing there in front of the
mountain hut, take the selfie, and with that you've hit the waypoint, and then you can usually head out again and it goes back to the next waypoint, and it's an incredibly fast rhythm, because you're constantly flying for a bit, landing again, and then moving on.
In between, we also had to keep running, like really gaining altitude, many meters if we didn't manage to land properly. The whole thing starts in Grindelwald, so the high mountains in the Alps, and the landscape is fantastic, absolutely great, but it's really, really high level. So, on the first day, something went a bit wrong—I got washed out once, had to keep going, was a bit behind—and the second day went great, it went really, really well until we somehow ended up in the big group at the Wildstrobelhütte, like in front of the glaciers on the main ridge, and there was way too much north wind, and it was clear now, okay, we have to get over the main ridge, so the next
The turnpoint was then in Wallis and it was like, hey, we're in the lee, the wind is so strong, it's like, and then we took off anyway, like, okay, we can do this, somehow it worked and then up to the cloud and across with a tailwind, always onto the main ridge and across the glacier, and it was so fantastic and so scary at the same time with this mega-strong wind and then into the sink from the glacier and washed down and whatever, and then into the Rodental, into the valley wind, and then at some point I was sitting in the Rodental and was like, okay, enough adventure, that's it, and it was just so intense, what happened in those two days, both at
things I saw there, at the huts I flew into, and then that final flight, I just said, okay, I'm just,
I was sitting there in the field and said, I'm not moving another inch, I'm just going to sit here, and I think I sat in that field for two hours and it was just too much in that moment.
Was it like an adrenaline overflow and all that?
Yes, on many, many levels, like I'd say, okay, that was probably beyond my limits and just say, okay, if I keep going, it's going to get dangerous, or I don't even know if I thought that much—I just sat there and, in hindsight, it was such an intense, amazing experience, but also experiencing these limits, really a hard limit where I'd say, okay, that's it. This far and no further. It was a failure at the same time because I had to give up, but also something that pushed me forward incredibly, both in terms of flying and knowing how I function.
This year you're taking part in the X-Pier, which starts in mid-June. What appeals to you about that, or why did you say you want to do, so to speak, the second-largest Hike-and-Fly race now?
It's an insane adventure. Just saying it, from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, along the Pyrenees. I did that by bike years ago, and now with hike-and-fly, the sheer scale of this task appeals to me incredibly. I'd say I know much better how I have to handle myself now—meaning I won't push myself so hard on day two that I can't go on, but rather I'll say, okay, I'm better prepared in the sense that I know when I need to slow down to keep going.
and I've also significantly developed my flying skills since last year. Yeah, and it's just this
to take part in adventures, to experience them, that's a huge draw for me. I can't really put my finger on it, it's a bit like, why do people run marathons? Which doesn't really make any sense. But this challenge,
to tackle something where you don't know if you can do it. And just to try it and see if you can hold out. So the goal now is also to still be in the race on the seventh day, to hold out until the very end.
So you don't have the goal of "I absolutely have to reach the finish line," no matter what, because if the weather happens to be great, you don't have to walk as much and can fly a lot, then it's still realistic to manage that well within the seven days. But you'd also say it's not really about that—it's not so much about being able to say at the end, "I was a finisher at the finish line," but rather "I was a finisher in my own right on the route," because I really held out for the seven days.
So, the goal will be to get as far as possible, however that might be. But the main goal is to still be able to fight on day seven—to still be able to fly, to still be able to run. To still be able to crawl if necessary, and to get as far as is somehow possible. Of course, with the goal of reaching the Mediterranean if that's somehow doable. But so many factors come into play. If the weather is good, that's possible.
If it rains or storms for seven days, then the whole thing gets difficult. Exactly, and then just experiencing that, being allowed to experience this race, this adventure. That's the big thing.
If you look at the Hike and Fly scene, parts of it are already very professional—at least the top end is. They train very seriously, have proper training plans, go for medical check-ups to get thoroughly examined, find out what their VO2 max is, and I don't know, what. They have all these kinds of data and use it to put together specific training plans and stuff like that. Do you do something like that too?
I tried it once with a coach, but unfortunately, it went a bit sideways. I have to try it with someone else again. A lot of it is just that right now we're playing this game, in the sense that we're staging the Hike and Fly. Not for very long these days, but we say, okay, we have the time to hike the routes, to find launch sites, to fly there. So the training is what's actually relevant at the end in the race. Of course, if you're being specific, if you only have an hour or two of time on a given day, then you need those very specific training plans. I'm especially hoping that by training what's actually required at the end, it works out quite well—that you'll also incorporate intervals and say, okay, today...
I don't do it for very long, but more intensely, that's clear. But I don't have a completely structured training plan right now.
But when you applied for this XP, that was in the winter, you were probably traveling in Mexico or Guatemala or somewhere else, then you get the message, yeah, you're hired, and then you know, okay, in half a year I have a big race, so that's something where a switch flips in your head somewhere, where you say, yeah. Then I wondered, how can I start training in Mexico now, or was that not even an issue yet, and you say, I'm guiding for now and only when I get back at the end of March will I think about how I can put together a proper training program.
That's too short. Trying to build up that level of fitness just from May to June is absolutely unrealistic. That takes years. It's like, I'm always running even on tours. For example, with the...
on the Colombia Tour we did, I ran to the launch site on the mornings of two out of three days. And that's 900 meters of elevation gain and 12 kilometers. So if you do it regularly, you get a pretty good workout out of that. And even in Mexico, depending on how the timing works out, I sometimes go for a run in the morning or during my lunch break. The lunch break is often a bit longer there. And that way I can at least get in a short intensity session. And that goes on all year round. So it's not like that
pauses. And now, right before the race, it's more intense again, but this basic fitness, you have to work on that all year round. Even there, one year of training isn't enough. It's just a lot, a lot, a lot. To build up the endurance, and also the stability in the knees, in the joints, in the... So, a lot of it is about not getting injured. Not dropping out on day three because your knee gives out or something. And that takes time to build up. It's just a lot. But
with the other tasks you still have, like being a flight instructor or something, your risk of overtraining is probably a bit lower.
I don't really know. No idea. You can wear yourself out very quickly if you live for it. Overtraining often happens faster than you think. So, like, just because you have a free afternoon, you go out and run the whole time—that's not necessarily a good idea. So depending on how fit you are, depending on how... Well, it happens pretty quickly that you end up ruining an ankle or a knee or something like that. It can happen very fast.
Now for the X-Bier. As far as I know, the route at the time we're recording this podcast—which is mid-May—isn't publicly known yet. So how do you train for that? Or do you just say there's the typical route from previous years and I look for the main mountains that are there? I want to have already hiked up all of them before.
Yes, there are typical turning points that are often flown. We have the routes from previous years, we also have the tracks from previous years, and there are only a limited number of options for what to do, especially on the Spanish side—meaning you usually fly either on the Spanish or the French side. You need a high base to be able to fly directly over the main ridge. That one goes up to 400, I think that's the highest. And then, yeah, scouting out the possible launch sites—there are many, but also just somehow the terrain structures, where are the extended valleys, how do the valley wind systems work here. Some work very differently.
So, at one point I had to laugh because in a terrain description it said, "at thermally active ridges, the valley wind comes from the mountains." Okay, valley wind from the mountains is kind of weird, but it actually was like that. And then, it then sweeps over from the other side, and because you only have this one ridge here in the Pyrenees and the side valleys are oriented orthogonally to it, it can happen that the wind is stronger from the other side and sweeps over. Getting to know these phenomena, understanding how the weather works here, is just super interesting right now.
You said we have all the tracks from the last few times. Do you look at those very intensively too? I mean, is that part of your preparation, where you're maybe sort of a visual person who says, I can memorize maps like this and I can look at how a track lay over there and...
So, not in a photographic sense where I see it once and can then reconstruct it, no. But right now, being able to say, okay, here is a terrain, have they been heading more towards the flat or more towards the main valley in recent years, like how deep have the lines been flown, where are the good thermals, I can memorize that. But it works much better when you're in the terrain and can really make it clear to yourself at the moment you see the mountains, saying, okay, they've started there before and they started there. During the race itself, it's so weather-dependent that everything is different anyway. But simply, it helps incredibly with thinking about options, like formulating strategies in advance.
That helps a lot. That's what we're working on right now. So, we're constantly looking at both running routes—for when the weather is really bad, like we had these last few days, where there was almost a Foehn phenomenon, so a pressure buildup on the French side. It just rained and snowed there. And then on the Spanish side, there were downdrafts, but powerful ones. So you didn't have to think about flying at all. And on days like that, you have to run 80, 90, 100 kilometers. And also the running distances—what are the effective running routes, where are the gaps, meaning where are the transitions where you don't have to pay 2,000 meters of vertical gain, but where you can handle the whole thing with 800 meters.
And that kind of stuff is also part of the preparation. Like looking at these passes beforehand to see where you can get through easily. But also, where are the good flight routes? There are surprisingly few ridges here that you can just fly along. Those highways like in the Alps, they almost don't exist here. You always have to do some kind of valley jumps. Figuring out where the good spots are to jump and so on—that's what we're busy with right now. And especially as a two-person team. Soon Matthias Harwald, the third in the team, will join us. And then we can do it even more intensively for two weeks.
What role does he play then?
Second supporter. So, just the task of following the pilots or the athletes is a full-time job. Driving the car and somehow being in the right spot. And it already helps if there are two of us. So then, we'll also have two cars in operation, so you could say it's like playing ping-pong. One can drive ahead and say, okay, the wind here is right. So it's landable, for example.
And Matthias will also have a lot of tasks, like running with me. So also getting equipment to the launch site, helping with the start and so on. So really being present at the launch site.
You mentioned something earlier that I wanted to ask about again. You said that you've improved your flying a lot over the last year. Yes. In what way? I mean, what did you improve in such a way that you'd now say, "Okay, for an X-Pier, I'm calculating maybe better chances than I did back then for an Eiger tour or something"?
Yeah, top landings are a big point. So it's also something I've started doing more of intentionally. Like, okay, how do I fly into a slanted, also wind-exposed meadow that might also have some thermal lift? How do I manage to get in there anyway? How do I manage to land into the angle there with more critical wind? A lot has happened there. And a lot of it is also just stress management during the flight. So now, when I've flown alone, I've also intentionally flown more demanding routes. Since I fly with people a lot, I often fly the safer routes. And then, when I was out alone, I specifically flew the deeper stuff too.
So you'd say, okay, you have to deal with a lot when you don't have a landing field. Which is something you obviously never do with people. So when I have someone with me, I always fly in a way that landing fields are reachable. But for myself, I also have to say, okay, I can handle the stress of not having a landing field right now. That I have to stay in the air. Or otherwise, I'll just hit a tree. But switching off this stress, to some extent. I think I've managed that significantly better over the last year. Exactly, that's what's very important here. There are often very few landing fields here.
Well, a competition like this has its own dynamic. Also because of the fact that you have competition. So you have other people running along with you, who might even support you. But at the same time, they are also competitors in some way. Do you really see them as, I mean, is it something that drives you? Such a competitive situation? Or is it something where you say, no, for me it's actually just, I am my own competition. So I want to hold out for these seven days. And make it to the end. And what place I end up in ultimately, I don't care at all.
Yeah, it's not completely irrelevant, but it's not the main priority. It's more like giving it everything you've got, as much as you can. That's often the case, even when you're being overtaken.
Although for me, I'm often slower on day one and then start catching up, which is cool again when you overtake people. So that's psychologically good again. But it's not like I'm saying, "Wow, I'm fighting the others." It's also like when you meet up, you're often at the starting positions together or running past each other, or it's always a friendly interaction. It's always a high-five, a fist bump, and consulting with each other on what's possible. So it's really more this approach: we're all in this race together now and trying to get it done as well as possible somehow. Like in the Liebgeist Gaggle, I don't know.
So, the ones flying at the very front for the podium. But I think it's the same there, that they advise each other and everyone just does it to the best of their ability. I mean, it's so much about your own limits, what you can personally do, what's flyable, what's doable. And for every pilot, the skills are so individual, and accordingly, the decisions have to be individual too. It's somehow more of a "together" thing than a "against" thing. That's what makes it cool.
Do you still have something like a result goal compared to the others, like a ranking goal, where you say, "I'd really like to get into the top 20," or something like that? I mean, over 40 pilots are starting now, so is that still a goal, or do you say maybe not the entire field, but there are, I don't know, four or five women I think are participating.
There are five women involved, yes.
That you say, at least for the women, you want to at least come in second or something. So, do those kinds of goals still exist, or does that not matter to you at all?
It's secondary, somehow. I don't even know if there's even a women's podium. No idea. It's the first time so many women are even participating. Because of that, we think way more about the weather, the route, and how to fly, rather than really about what the ranking says in the end. I know I won't be flying for the podium; that's just so far-fetched, it's not going to happen. With the pilots who are participating,
That, I actually think, if I say, okay, it's the last day, I'm still in it and I'm the last one left, then I'm happy.
That you still try to overtake people and get a ranking and all that, of course, that's something else. But it's not like I'm saying it's a failure if I end up last among those who are still in. It's just that a third of the field usually drops out, like they simply can't go on anymore. That so many, many, many good pilots repeatedly don't make it to the finish and have to give up and so on. There are just so many, so many things that have to go right for the whole thing to work. There are just so many things that can go wrong. Like a sprained ankle and the whole thing is over. What can happen during the landing, but it can also just be that you slip on a stone. So much can happen there.
That's why the most important thing is actually that we're a team of three, and if we're still having fun on the last day, then everything is good.
With the way you're always smiling and beaming, I think it's probably only possible to have fun with you for seven days straight. Yeah. Because there's
There's definitely a lot of ambition involved in that.
Ah, so the ambition kicks in again. It does. You've been preparing for this X-Alps for quite a long time now, or at least you're investing a lot of time into it. So, leading up to the X-Alps, you've been in the Pyrenees the whole time, checking it out, training, and all that. Can you imagine—I know this from, or have heard it from a few X-Alps people—that they trained so much, so much more for it, and then it's over and you might fall into a bit of a hole because, in that moment, a bit of the meaning of life falls away. Do you fear something like that happening to you?
Hopefully not. It can happen, yeah. The good thing is that I have a mission at the SIV training relatively soon after, so there isn't really time to fall into a huge slump and things will keep moving forward relatively quickly with tours and so on. So there isn't that big void. Yeah, you hear it again and again, both from X-Alps or also marathons, big races that people have set their sights on, that this slump comes afterwards and as always, I think if so many people have it, then it's probably something built deep inside us and I believe no one is shielded from it happening. I hope it doesn't hit that hard.
If it happens, you have to deal with it and then find new motivation.
Then the last question. I'm assuming that you are successful in some way with the X-Pier.
That's nice. Even if it's only the
Success is about persevering and not saying it's a ranking success or something like that, but that you experience it as a success for yourself, and persevering is really already the success in something like this. And then the thing always comes up: well, if they're already doing the X-Pier, are you also thinking about the X-Alps? So would that also be like a next option? Would you then apply for the X-Alps in 2027? Or is that something where you say, no, that's a number too big for me, or is that something where I say, these two, I mean, investing that much time for those two weeks that then run there, that actually doesn't fit into my paraglider nomad life anymore.
Yes, well, the advantage of the nomad life is that you can always make decisions relatively spontaneously. So, X-Pier is definitely also about finding out if these big races are the thing. For me, whether the scale is just too big, whether this adventure is something I enjoy, and whether the team enjoys it too. And we haven't even thought further yet. We haven't talked about whether X-Alps is an option later on. The thought is there sometimes, but it's just like, first X-Pier and then we'll see. So it's certainly possible that if X-Pier goes well and so on, we'll start talking about X-Alps. Of course, it's always a huge thing financially as well. I think X-Alps is even...
significantly more expensive than X-Pier. I mean, even X-Pier is already a huge financial undertaking with all the preparation, the gear, the vehicle, and those crazy fuel prices. You just have to see. First, X-Pier—that's the adventure that's definitely happening, what's coming up. And what happens next, we'll start talking about that once we know how X-Pier went. If it was fun. If it's not fun, it doesn't make sense.
Alright Celia, then I wish you, on the one hand, that X-Pier is fun. And, on the other hand, that X-Pier ends with you actually lasting the seven days and saying at the end, "At least I reached this goal and it was a success." Maybe you'll even end up with some kind of ranking success where people could say, for example, I could imagine the Spaniards saying, "Since we have five women involved, we're definitely doing a women's podium." I think they wouldn't let that slide, if I were to say. But maybe you'll be standing there somewhere on the women's podium or something. I'm definitely keeping my fingers crossed for you, and thanks first of all for telling us about the nomadic life—from the guiding nomadic life to the ambitious nomadic life, as far as sporting ambition is concerned.
Thank you very much, Lucia. Very
You're welcome.
You can find further links to this episode in the show notes.
Podz-Glidz is the podcast of the paraglider blog Lu-Glidz. Behind it, there is no large editorial team, no advertising department, just me, Lucian Haas, as a passionate paraglider and freelance journalist. In the podcast and the blog, I combine both to keep the paragliding scene up to date on all the possible facets of this fascinating sport and hobby. And that's completely ad-free and without any paywall. From the feedback of my listeners and readers, I know that many value Lu-Glidz and Podz-Glidz as important and independent information channels. Maybe you feel the same way. For me, both are not just a passion, but also part of my livelihood. Unfortunately, I haven't won the lottery yet or have a huge inheritance in my account. That's why I still have to make sure that the time I put into this is rewarded with more than just intrinsic fun and kind words.
And that's where you come in. If you regularly listen to Podz-Glidz, read Lu-Glidz, and benefit from it, then please give something back. How much you send me as a supporter via PayPal or bank transfer is entirely up to you. You can find all the necessary information and links on the site www.Lu-Glidz.blogspot.com under the "Support" section. That's all for today. The next episode of Podz-Glidz should, as usual, appear again in two weeks. Until then, go get back up in the air yourself. Start early, land late, but above all, stay safe and have fun. See you soon, your Lucian.