As we turn the corner once again into Autumn and have an opportunity to reflect on the sunny warm days of summer, a personal highlight was a quick trip to Goat Peak to paraglide in the beautiful North Cascades of Washington State.
With only a handful of trips into the North Cascades, usually admiring the mountains from the depths of it's river canyons, this was a unique trip in many ways. For one, we would be attempting to tap into one of the better paragliding forecasts of the year. With thermals reaching up as high as 12,000 feet (MSL), the dream was to hop along the tops of the mountains, connecting a line deep into the jagged Cascades. The second unique thing was being invited by one of my long time friends, Lane Jacobs, to fly that morning from Hood River, Oregon in his Mooney, a small low wing aircraft capable of covering distance quickly. It would be a "fly to fly" mission, the first of my life, and I gladly accepted the invitation.
Accompanying us was Willa, Lane’s three year old daughter, and my girlfriend Whitney Fisher. Together, they would be our support team, and we couldn’t have asked for better.
We left at the very civilized hour of 7:30 from the Hood River airport. After a careful check of weight and balance to make sure the four of us and our cross country paragliding kits would safely fit into the airplane, Lane warmed up the plane, taxied to the end of the runway, and let it rip.
The Mooney climbed easily in the cold morning air and soon we were passing Mount Adams with Mount Rainier on the not so distant horizon. We passed over the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, Rainier, and Leavenworth. Taking time to look at a classic paragliding line from Leavenworth to Mt Stuart. From here we passed Chelan to the West and began descending into Winthrop, where Lane had cleverly stashed an old Subaru for the summer.
Lane (and Willa) made the transition from sky to land without as much as a bump, and soon we were in his Subaru heading for launch.
The Goat Peak launch is tucked back into trees just off the road from a small pull-off. It was my first time flying the site, and I hoped I would be able to find my way to cloud base without having much of an idea of how to properly fly the site.
Lane launched first, disappearing around the trees to the right. A couple minutes later, he was hooting from above as he climbed above launch. I launched next, in a bit of a lull, turned right and found nothing but sink. I scratched my way ever lower to the edge of the Methow Valley, before finding some lift which was drifting to the West and away from launch. I somehow managed to climb back up to the elevation of launch and spotted another paraglider in a nice thermal just within reach.
As I entered the thermal and began climbing, I noticed the pilot's white beard blowing in the wind and a smile welcoming me into the climb with him. The easy way he piloted his high performance wing gave me the confidence that I had just found my ticket to Goat Peak. Without topping out the climb, he peeled away towards the mountain and the steep dense trees covering any hope of a safe landing. I took a few more turns to give myself a bit more margin then followed his lead. I watched him soar along the treetops then bank left into a ravine, something only a veteran of the site would do. Again, giving myself a bit more margine I shadowed the line knowing that at this point the only good way out was up. As I turned the corner I saw him skyrocketing to cloudbase and smiled as I knew exactly where I was headed.
The rhythmic beeps of my vario began increasing in tone and intensity as the thermal picked up strength. For me, it was one of the best climbs of my life. Leaving the treetops for the fluffy clouds above, passing the lookout tower, and gaining thousands of feet in a matter of minutes. It was also my right of passage to fly the mountains of the North Cascades.
I watched my new friend leave the thermal and fly up valley towards the pass. My eyes scanned the sky looking for Lane and eventually I picked out a green speck underneath a cloud along the line we were planning to fly straight into the mountains to the north. The line was to pass along the tops of the mountains, from Goat, to McLeod, Sunrise and Big Craggy Peak before turning east, crossing the Chewuch River to Tiffany Mountain and then completing the triangle back to the Methow Valley.
I gave a silent salute to my new friend, topped out the thermal and pointed straight into the mountains knowing full well I was following Lane into tiger country and that this was soon to be one of the more committing flights of my life. I watched hanging snow fields, jagged peaks, and crystal clear iridescent blue lakes pass below and beside us as I continually calculated my next move. Paragliding is the most beautiful game of chess imaginable, where a right or wrong move either results in safe passage over beautiful but unforgiving landscapes, or a terrifying dip into the terrain where turbulent air mixes with jagged rocks, cliffs, and trees, days walking distance from anywhere.
Literally on the edge of my seat, I flew the line from mountain to mountain. Measuring the strength of clouds against the hardness of the rocks below. I soon decided to favor the clouds, running their edges as I felt them beginning to suck me in. An hour and half into the flight, we passed Big Craggy, opting to work a couple thermals off its flank rather than toying with the peak. A large cloud gave good indication to the strength of lift off the top of the mountain. From there, we crossed a couple valleys and I watched a dust devil spiral off a burned ridge, bringing a column of ash thousands of feet into the air. Lane and I were now synced up, sharing climbs and helping each other find new thermals.
I topped out one such climb behind Lane as he made his move across the Chewuch river valley, and again headed to the mountains and low angle terrain. I saw another fire tower diagonally across the valley with a nice horse pasture at the base of it. Frazzled from the last hour and half of intense flying, I opted to attempt the longer valley crossing in hopes of a less committing flight to complete the triangle. My line proved the lesser of the two, and after fighting a "slow death" along a ridge leading to the fire lookout I opted to put it down safely in the horse pasture, the day was already more than I could have ever asked for, and the green pasture along the river looked inviting. I set it down, grateful for such an incredible flight. Lane continued to fly the line and an hour later completed the triangle back to his sister's cabin in Mazama.
I enjoyed a refreshing swim and a nice sun bath on a rock by the river as I waited for retrieve and after a quick drive back to the cabin, a cold glass of whiskey, tri-tip steak, and abundant laughter finished off a true.....
.....KAVU day.
Tyler Bradt
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