Is Paragliding Worth the Risk?

Why do we fly?

There comes a time for all paraglider pilots to question if paragliding is worth the risk.

After the initial excitement of paragliding school, the "passive safety" red-herring of our equipment, and the misleading anecdotes of safety in comparison to driving a car for example, our bubble is popped as we realise with earned experience that paragliding can bite.

We hear of severe injuries, have our own accidents or near misses, and members of our community, often among the most talented and/ or experienced, depart this earthly realm.

Suddenly our blissful ignorance turns into a scary realisation, paragliding is dangerous.

Without Inner Game we Increase the Risk

To get good and reduce the risk paragliding must become an integral part of our lives, a daily practice of either flying, ground handling or learning.

Paragliding is not something to be dabbled in sporadically, the potential consequences are too high and the rewards unlikely to materialise.

But if skill development inoculates us why are so many experienced pilots afflicted?

The answer, I believe, lies rooted in our shallow understanding and cultivation of the mind and our psychological drivers.

We have a tendency to overestimate our skills.

We have a self opinion elevated to reality. We need to feel superior in something. This can be positive as it can push us to take on challenges or push past supposed limits, but when we experience success, attention from peers, promotions, wins...confidence will rise too quickly, there will be an ever-growing discrepancy between our self opinion and reality.

Robert Greene

It is here where the ego breeds overconfidence, taking paragliding from something intrinsic to extrinsic feeding a need for external validation. We get outside of ourselves and the risk skyrockets.

The colloquial term for this in paragliding is Intermediate Syndrome but it's danger extends to experts who can easily fall into the same trap sometimes referred to as expert syndrome or the expert halo. Both stem from an overestimation in one's ability, and a need for external validation.

• Overestimation of skills: Experts may believe they are more capable than they actually are, leading to poor decision-making.
• Complacency: Experienced pilots might become less vigilant about safety procedures or pre-flight checks.
• Underestimation of risks: Experts may downplay potential dangers due to their familiarity with the sport.
• Pressure to perform: Highly skilled pilots might feel compelled to push their limits or fly in suboptimal conditions to maintain their reputation.

It really doesn't matter what level we're at, when we think we are better than we are (overconfident) and we fly to prove or maintain this perception then we're in trouble.

Not only are we degrading the essence of why we started flying in the first place, we reduce our ability to achieve flow and fly intuitively.

I speak from experience.

I had a narrow escape early on in my own career from wingovers that led to a cravat and a reserve throw, which opened only moments before impacting the side of a mountain slope, where I landed neatly between a road and a concrete wall.

All the 100km flights I'd flown that season had gone to my head, I wasn't used to that kind of positive affirmation and suddenly I didn't want to lose that. I now had to prove I was as good as everyone said (and I thought) I was.

All of this underscores the importance of humility, continuous learning, and a realistic assessment of our abilities in paragliding.

We need to cultivate the mental side of paragliding - our inner game.

As you'll see in the next few paragraphs, it effects every part of our life

Fear Breeds in the Gaps

After more than a decade of yoyo-ing in and out of paragliding due to lifestyle and financial reasons, the bug truly bit in 2014 thanks to the support of mentors in the community.

Paragliding was love at first site for me, but it was my first taste of XC that caused me to drop my other hobbies and dedicate myself to this mind-bending pursuit.

A few years later I became an instructor to immerse myself even further, to learn by teaching and to be around paragliding everyday so that I could become the best that I could be.

These were amazing times. in 2018 I'd left my job to work with Barry at Birdmen, reached some incredible XC milestones, worked with incredible pilots, and was around paragliding almost daily. My job as an instructor and coach was the most fulfilling and rewarding job I'd had to date.

Life was good.

And then came 2020, the weird year that shook the world.

Suddenly we were all forced to stop. No flying. No friends. No work. Locked up at home for months. My untrained mind was free to wonder. It became a breeding ground for fear and doubt.

What if I get injured? Am I good enough? Do I need a backup?

I questioned the selfishness of my flying, the time it took and the impact on others should something go wrong.

A string of fatal accidents to experienced pilots in our community only made this worse.

I left South Africa with two gliders and a suitcase in late 2020 to follow my heart and reconnect with my Swedish girlfriend. Covid had separated us for a year and we wanted to be together while the dust settled on the world.

I intended to fly as much as possible and find a way to keep teaching and coaching but life had other plans. From flying almost everyday to flying only a handful of times a year. From community and friends to isolation. From sunshine to darkness.

Depression consumed me and I questioned it all. Watching birds soar and clouds form became painful. I began to create reasons why flying wasn't good and why it was a bad path for me. I focused on the danger and stopped looking at or reading anything paragliding related.

Should I just give up?

The problem was all internal. I had lost my way and justification for flying. Fear and self-doubt set in.

But I refused to sell my gear.

The Switch

After 3 years of fighting hard to survive in Sweden, with an 8 month old baby boy, my (now ex) partner through me out after a fight.

But instead of crushing me this shock manifested itself as a bolt of energy and released me from my prison giving me permission to focus on myself again.

In the following year I would read over 50 books that helped me gain perspective on life and strengthen my mind. I would spend more time in nature, in the forest, swimming in the lake, learning new skills, writing and meditating.

Alone for most of it I reflected on what was important to me. I came to see how I'd forgotten myself and that I needed my people and my passions in my life.

One summer day I returned to our local flying hill on a sub-par day with the goal of just sitting on the hill and taking my glider out the bag. To my surprise two other pilots were there. We spoke, had some top to bottoms and enjoyed just being active out in nature.

How I'd missed this.

A few days later we all returned to brilliant soaring conditions.

This time my goal was simply to enjoy the day as much as possible. No XC, just time in the saddle.

So that's what I did. Flying for hours on end, top landing and relaunching, playing little games with myself to try and squeeze out the light lift that extra few metres, pushing out as far away from the hill as possible, then doing it all again.

I was flying.

This is incredible I thought to myself.

As I drove home that day I felt as if something inside me had been reborn. There was depth to my being I hadn't felt in a long time.

A stillness.

Paragliding Gives More Life than it Takes

My life had been enriched that day. Yes I had fun but the experience was far deeper than that. I had acted in the face of fear and doubt. I'd connected with other people in my community and seen my life from a new perspective.

I had enriched my soul.

I experienced more in one day than I had in the past few months lifelessly packing boxes at my warehouse job.

It became clear that most people are hiding from life and that the real risk is that life passes by unnoticed while we obey and try to make life safe.

Death is as natural as life. It comes to us all. But not all of us experience life. It is only by embracing death that we can truly let go and live in flow with the river of time.

Paragliding is philosophy, poetry, and teacher.

It is a gift.

Just as we cannot be good at walking, or eating, or life, we can never be good at paragliding. Paragliding is a gift just as our bodies are. By humbly deepening our relationship with it, just as with ourselves, we may flow in harmony as one with the elements and with our nature by letting go.

And with mindful practice it's lessons follow us into daily life, improving our relationships, building our confidence, and deepening virtues such as patience, gratitude, and humility.

Yes, the risk is there.

No I won't stop.

Paragliding adds more value to my life than it could ever take away.

Cape Town, here I come.