In Alpinists' Heaven

During their six week expedition to Pakistan Damien Lacaze and Antoine Girard flew 1,500 kilometers of distance in only 14 flying days, achieved paragliding’s second ever highest flight, bivouacked at over 6,000 metres and attempted the ascent of the 7,000 metre high Spantik. This was adventure at the human limit.

The start of this expedition at Skardu in the north of the country was exactly what French paraglider adventurers Damien Lacaze and Antoine Girard like to do. Conditions were very good. “We had to remind ourselves not to climb higher than 6,800 metres”, said Damien, “otherwise we could not rely on our acclimatisation to this extreme altitude.” The first flight was almost perfect.

Then to the first landing. The landing site was actually relatively straightforward; a gentle slope with individual stone blocks. Both pilots carried 35 kilograms of provisions, water and assorted equipment in their harnesses. This brings them to 15 kilos over max certified weight for their gliders, and they will be landing at 4,000 metres.

Low air density with high wing loading make their gliders fast. “Like half my landings in Pakistan I chose the backside landing technique”, admitted Damien. When the touchdown speed is 50 kph normal running is not an option.

Antoine landed not far away, but he tried to do it standing up. The loading was too much for his ankles and he was badly injured. “If it had have been me I would have called off the expedition”, said Damien. “I told Antoine that he did not have to continue just because of me”.

But Antoine Girard would not be Antoine Girard if he had have been forced to give up at the first setback. The alpinist and paraglider altitude record-holder decided: “I carry on.”

Antoine cannot hike, so the two pilots adopt a new strategy. “We will always have to land somewhere high, on the west side of a pass, for example", explains Damien. The evening landing place will then be close to the takeoff next morning – often only a few metres away. In between we bivouac here, frequently at 5,000m altitude. For long distances they did not see a single human soul.

“We were often looking for a landing place at four in the afternoon”, describes Lacaze about the tactics. By landing early they can avoid landing in a valley, and the long walk up next morning to a takeoff. But early landing also means landing with active high mountain thermals, Lacaze adds: “If eight m/s thermals pick you up on the side of a ridge you almost always have to fly in the lee on the shadow side to get down.” The greatest concentration and full-on glider control are required.

Once, these tactics didn’t work for Damien, and he had to land far below in the valley, near a small settlement that he had hardly noticed from the air. Immediately he is surrounded by the village, suitably excited because they have never seen a paraglider before. Everyone wants to feel his floppy fold-up flying machine. After Lacaze has packed up and wants to set off upwards to find Antoine (who has landed high on the hillside) the locals pick up his luggage and insist on accompanying him up to the mountain ridge. “I wasn’t allowed to carry my rucksack a single metre,” Damien remembers, and laughs.

In Karimabad the adventurers were greeted by bad weather. Time and again the departure for Spantik (The Golden Peak) had to be postponed. At last a weather window opened up after a week’s wait. The cloudbase is too low at 6,200 meters to be able to land on a Spantik plateau. Damien and Antoine tried it anyway.

The flight from Karimabad to the Spantik mountain is 40 kms, but instead of their reclining harnesses they dangle in delicate, almost non-existent string versions. “In the thermals, which can get as strong as 13 m/s, this was something of an alarming experience,” commented Damien. At the foot of Spantik the pair battled for altitude. Only a few metres more, and they would be able to land on the one possible place on the 6,200m plateau. Finally they succeeded, and set down softly in the deep snow.

But the weather got worse earlier than forecast. Even during the advance to the summit the next day the wind picked up; it began to snow, and their shortage of acclimatisation made itself increasingly evident. They were making hardly any progress and both decided to abandon the attempt. A paraglider takeoff is out of the question.

Antoine was suffering from the altitude - suspected cerebral edema (brain tissue swelling which causes a terrible headache). He had to go down, come what may. They decided to take off as soon as possible - despite the heavy snow and thick fog – and prepared their gliders for the blind flight. As soon as the wind briefly reached the right direction they took off, and were in luck: the cloud layer was only 600 metres thick. Soon Antoine called on the radio: he’s feeling better, the denser air is helping.

The flying descent by paraglider took an hour, during which they covered 35 kms. Mountaineers take a week for the same journey.

And that’s exactly the fascination of paragliding in high mountains, enthused Antoine: “A few lines, a scrap of material, and with a couple of thermal circles you can reach places that alpinists have only dreamed about for a lifetime.”

A week later Antoine and Damien made their way from Karimabad back to Skardu. They flew over the Baltoro glacier, past the Trango Towers, soared at Broad Peak (8,050m) and waved at the rope teams below.