Learning to Fly

For the past few weekends I've been out with my new friend Adam, learning how to handle a paraglider. You might be thinking, "Wait a minute - I thought he had a hang-glider?" In which case, you would be right. However, interior Alaska, with its mellow weather and lack of open landing sites, is much more conducive to paragliders which can "spot land" and fly in weaker winds. Just so happens, I e-mailed a paraglider instructor in Fairbanks and he lives right across the road. We became friends quickly.

As you can imagine, snow and cold make this a little tricky. Here I set up for an attempt to get a little controlled air. If I remember correctly, this launch in zero wind wasn't successful.

I am learning more than I am even aware of. Pre-flight inspections involve triple-checking all connections and clearing the lines of tangles. The lines (risers) are actually very resistant to tangling.

Apollo likes paragliding weekends, as it means we go out to an open field and he gets to run around for a few hours.



Here I perform a forward inflation in low winds. The wing comes up pretty well, but doesn't quite make it overhead so Adam gives me the "abort" call. The voice you hear in the videos is his. His patience and wisdom are priceless!



In this one, the forward launch goes well, and I get the wing inflated and make a forward run. This gives me the ability to control the wing as if I were flying, but still safely on the ground. The run goes well, but I failed to put the wing down in a controlled deflation. I've done it since!


So far, my new hobby has taken to me places around Fairbanks I wouldn't otherwise have gone. Last weekend, I was granted the best view of Denali I've had in Alaska, from the top of Murphy Dome. (Keep in mind Denali is 200 miles away in this shot) The ultimate goal is to get certified in Girdwood (Alyeska), near Anchorage, by the end of the summer.

Yukon Quest 2010

Every year, a sled dog race takes place through some of the roughest, coldest, most brutal wilderness on Earth. This race stretches 1000 miles from Fairbanks, AK to/from Whitehorse, Yukon. Yesterday, it started in Fairbanks!


The first racer gets on the move. They were spaced out at 3 minute intervals. The winners will complete the race in about 8-9 days.

It started right downtown, on the river. Yes, that's right - on the river. I'd bet its the biggest event downtown Fairbanks sees. People were all over the bridges, but mostly right on the frozen river in front of the action. You can even make out a musher in this shot, looks like bib 10.

Naturally, the event brought your fair share of folks.

Calm, controlled, and cheerful. I'd like to see him at mile 847.

Another happy face. Most of the mushers seemed very happy to be setting off. The dogs are outfitted with booties to protect their feet from the jagged snow, and to keep snow from bunching up in their paws. Some get jackets, but for the most part these dogs are impervious to the cold.

Lead dogs - focused, hyper, and strictly obedient. The musher calls out commands to the lead dog(s) to direct the rest of the team and steer the sled.

This race is pretty badass because the mushers have only a few checkpoints, which means they'll spend their rest time on the trail, camped out. There are places for them to drop injured or tired dogs and resupply, but not many. Rule is they can start with no more than 14 dogs, but they must finish with 5.

Naturally, this got me all siked up. Skijoring is about as close to dog mushing as I'll ever get. So I went home, grabbed Apollo and hit the trail. We skijored some trails right in the neighborhood, but I got lost and we went quite the distance. I called it the Goldstream Valley Quest. He did great; our best skijoring yet. I foresee many miles on the trail with him. He is all healed up and in great health. He is finally growing some hair back on his belly!