Here a few statistics of the time spent in Pakistan. We spent roughly 63 days in Pakistan. Of these, 25 were flyable and on 23 of them we actually flew which makes that we flew on roughly every third day. It rained or was not flyable on 21 days which makes for 30 percent of our time in Pakistan We lost 4 days to time needed to travel back from our XC flights and used 7 days to get to the different flying sites, not including our return to Islamabad. Finally, I was sick on 5 days. Our total expenses once in Pakistan were 1000 dollars US, about 15 dollars per day.
We had very few days with a cloud base exceeding 6000 metres, something you need in this area to be able to fly big XC.
Longest flight; 140Km
Longest time in the air; 7 hours
Fastest climb; 11.7 M/S
Highest altitude; 7544 metres
Total flying time; 75 hours
Things I would do differently next time. I would travel with a bigger budget to pay for a higher standard of accommodation and food to try and keep my body in better shape. Although I only lost 5 days to sickness there were many days that I did not feel one hundred percent. The flying environment asks for a hundred percent commitment, with less, you risk making mistakes which you can not afford. There is no helicopter rescue and medical facilities are few and ill equipped.
The interaction we had with the people of Pakistan in the places we visited was outstanding. The people are genuine in their desire to help and it was rarely that I felt taken advantage of. Never did I feel threatened or unsafe, whether during the day or in the dark walking back to the hotel during a power cut, something I cant say I feel comfortable doing anywhere else I have been. History hasn’t been very kind to this part of the world, it being a play ground for the big powers to play their great game. On top of that, as I write this, 14 million people in Pakistan are dealing with one of the biggest natural disasters that the world has seen. The monsoon rains are destroying everything, infrastructure, crops, houses, food stores, and livestock. It takes a faire bid of resilience to deal with so much drama. It is a country with a hopeless political situation where corruption is everywhere but also a country with the most beautiful mountains and an exceptional playground for Para gliding pilots. I hope it will stay accessible for foreigners in the years to come both for the benefit of the Pakistanis and the visitors. Fly high, Rob
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Here a few statistics of the time spent in Pakistan. We spent roughly 63 days in Pakistan. Of these, 25 were flyable and on 23 of them we actually flew which makes that we flew on roughly every third day. It rained or was not flyable on 21 days which makes for 30 percent of our time in Pakistan We lost 4 days to time needed to travel back from our XC flights and used 7 days to get to the different flying sites, not including our return to Islamabad. Finally, I was sick on 5 days. Our total expenses once in Pakistan were 1000 dollars US, about 15 dollars per day.
We had very few days with a cloud base exceeding 6000 metres, something you need in this area to be able to fly big XC.
Longest flight; 140Km
Longest time in the air; 7 hours
Fastest climb; 11.7 M/S
Highest altitude; 7544 metres
Total flying time; 75 hours
Things I would do differently next time. I would travel with a bigger budget to pay for a higher standard of accommodation and food to try and keep my body in better shape. Although I only lost 5 days to sickness there were many days that I did not feel one hundred percent. The flying environment asks for a hundred percent commitment, with less, you risk making mistakes which you can not afford. There is no helicopter rescue and medical facilities are few and ill equipped.
The interaction we had with the people of Pakistan in the places we visited was outstanding. The people are genuine in their desire to help and it was rarely that I felt taken advantage of. Never did I feel threatened or unsafe, whether during the day or in the dark walking back to the hotel during a power cut, something I cant say I feel comfortable doing anywhere else I have been. History hasn’t been very kind to this part of the world, it being a play ground for the big powers to play their great game. On top of that, as I write this, 14 million people in Pakistan are dealing with one of the biggest natural disasters that the world has seen. The monsoon rains are destroying everything, infrastructure, crops, houses, food stores, and livestock. It takes a faire bid of resilience to deal with so much drama. It is a country with a hopeless political situation where corruption is everywhere but also a country with the most beautiful mountains and an exceptional playground for Para gliding pilots. I hope it will stay accessible for foreigners in the years to come both for the benefit of the Pakistanis and the visitors. Fly high, Rob
We had very few days with a cloud base exceeding 6000 metres, something you need in this area to be able to fly big XC.
Longest flight; 140Km
Longest time in the air; 7 hours
Fastest climb; 11.7 M/S
Highest altitude; 7544 metres
Total flying time; 75 hours
Things I would do differently next time. I would travel with a bigger budget to pay for a higher standard of accommodation and food to try and keep my body in better shape. Although I only lost 5 days to sickness there were many days that I did not feel one hundred percent. The flying environment asks for a hundred percent commitment, with less, you risk making mistakes which you can not afford. There is no helicopter rescue and medical facilities are few and ill equipped.
The interaction we had with the people of Pakistan in the places we visited was outstanding. The people are genuine in their desire to help and it was rarely that I felt taken advantage of. Never did I feel threatened or unsafe, whether during the day or in the dark walking back to the hotel during a power cut, something I cant say I feel comfortable doing anywhere else I have been. History hasn’t been very kind to this part of the world, it being a play ground for the big powers to play their great game. On top of that, as I write this, 14 million people in Pakistan are dealing with one of the biggest natural disasters that the world has seen. The monsoon rains are destroying everything, infrastructure, crops, houses, food stores, and livestock. It takes a faire bid of resilience to deal with so much drama. It is a country with a hopeless political situation where corruption is everywhere but also a country with the most beautiful mountains and an exceptional playground for Para gliding pilots. I hope it will stay accessible for foreigners in the years to come both for the benefit of the Pakistanis and the visitors. Fly high, Rob
Friday, August 6, 2010
July 29. The events are overwhelming. We have passed a good night sleep in our hotel but it rained the whole night and so the flooding continues. The raging torrent has turned into an all devouring monster. The road that we walked yesterday to cross the bridge has been completely carved away and the river is now a good fifty metres wider. The bridge is invisible under the enormous volume of water that presses around and over it. The on and off ramp washed away and the narrow passage around the bridge was a boiling mass of muddy water. Tons and tons of topsoil are being washed away every second. The really disturbing sight is the amount of building materials that race by on the surface. The road into the side valley is practicable for a few hundred metres and then it is blocked by some rock fall and washed away by the enormous forces at work. At times the earth shudders when big boulders in the flow race by. The bed of the river directs the flow against a rock wall which divides the water. It creates an gigantic vertex that turns at great speed and eats away at the terraced cornfields on the other side of the river. A house that looks like it has been finished not long ago is on the edge of the water and with the vertex eating away at the land on one side and the raging river on the other side, it looks doomed to disappear. On our side of the water is also a house right on the edge and the people are getting whatever belongings they can salvage before their home topples into the flow. The amazing thing is that while all this tragedy is going on some people risk their lives trying to salvage drift wood out of the churning water. The vortex is catching big quantities of flotsam and spits them out into the eddies close to the shore. Those people were standing on ground that was rapidly sliding into the river and while hanging onto branches they would pull the timber out of the water. It was timber from houses that have been destroyed further upstream and later in the day the horror stories start to come in from whole villages that have been swept away by the rising waters inhabitants and all. The sheer power of the water is frightening and we are all silenced by this overwhelming force of destruction. Later in the morning the new concrete house toppled into the river and got simply swallowed up by the water as if it was an aspirin dissolving in a glass of water. Many power lines come down as the poles topple into the flow so the power supply stops. We realise that it is going to take some time before we will able to continue our trip. News is hard to get as nobody can get in or out of town and the only way to get news is via the cell phone. From our friends in Islamabad we hear that the flooding is wide spread and that the rain will continue for another 24 hours. We also hear that a plane has crashed trying to land in bad weather in Islamabad and that all 152 people on board have perished.
July 30. In the night it has stopped raining and in the morning the flow in the river has visibly reduced. They have constructed a flying fox over the gorge so people can come from one side to the other. All the shops are on our side and medicines and food are sent over. In the night the bottom part of a hotel, perched on the riverbank, has been swept away as has part of the park at the confluence with the Indus. Pierre is anxious to get on his way as he has a plane to catch on the first of august. I however don’t feel the same urgency and Im quiet happy to wait for the first vehicles to come though from down stream. Till then we have a place to sleep and food to eat in a reasonable safe place. The people down here are definitely not used to foreigners and often look at us with suspicion or just stare at us. Communication is also a lot harder as not many of the locals speak English. Throughout the day conflicting news comes through about people that would have made it out or into town but the impression is that tomorrow is going to be the day to make an attempt to leave. In the convoy from Gilgit we have met a young chap from Karachi on his way back from a holiday near Nanga Parbat. Sam is an excellent help in organising food and transport and makes things a lot easier for us. It stays dry all day and things are looking good for tomorrow. We pass the time playing cards and strolling down the main street noticing the dilapidated state of this place.
July 31. We get up at 7 and at 8 Pierre has found a taxi bus to take is away. A bulldozer has cleared a path trough the mud and stones that have spilled onto the road with the over flowing streams. The water level has receded enough so that we can drive trough the fords. It is only after two hours that we are stopped at a police checkpoint where we are told that we can not proceed with the car. We have to take our luggage and walk over a bridge and load up on the other side. A big landslide would be blocking the road ahead and they didn’t want the traffic backing up through the bazaar and over the bridge. However our driver organizes another bus on the other side of the bridge and by the time we are loaded up and drive to the landslide the bulldozer is just pushing the last rocks of the road. Then the devastation becomes worse again. In places there is just enough road left for the minibus to pass, the rest of the road having been eaten away by the floodwaters. We make good time and slowly leave the mountains behind us. We arrive in the first major town where we are just to late to catch the bus for Islamabad. With the help of Sam we organise a taxi to the next town to cache up with the bus and from there we drive in the first air conditioned, clean bus on roads with no potholes to Islamabad. Our friend Jabbar is at the bus station to pick us up and drive us to our hotel. It is strange to be back in a big town with all the consumables available, after two months in places with only the bare minimum in the shops. In the evening we eat pizza from pizza hut and burgers with French fries and coke. Im already missing the vege curry from the Hidden Paradise restaurant in Karimabad. It is only when we watch the news on TV in the evening that we realise the full extend of the drama that is taking pace and how lucky we have been to escape so easily. The floodwaters have now reached the plains and millions of people are displaced and many have drowned.
August 7. Time flies, even when you are not having fun. I have arrived in Manali after a gruelling 26 hours journey, what was supposed to be around 15 hours. The monsoon is also in India and a landslide had cut the only road in and out of the kullu valley and manali. Traffic backed up for ten kilometres as only a one lane strip was finally cleared and reconstructed. At some point the bus simply dropped all the passengers of, turned around and disappeared, leaving us to fend for ourselves. The rest of the trip was made on several flat deck Jeeps and finally the last bit from kullu with a bus. I thank the gods for holding back the rain as I had no means to keep my stuff dry. Grey and I stayed in Islamabad for 3 nights, we had some social engagements and had trouble finding a seat on the bus to Lahore which made us stay one more night. The whole trip to Amritsar went very smooth. The bus to Lahore did 120Kmh, a speed that we are not used to any more, then a taxi ride to the border. Here one has to walk across to India. I lost count how many times I had to show my passport but it was close to ten times. With all the luggage we have there was no way we would be able to carry it ourselves over the kilometre stretch between the borders so we had to haggle with porters to assist us, Pakistanis up to the border and then Indians on the Indian side. We left Islamabad at 7am and arrived in Amritsar at 2pm which left us enough time to have a look at the golden temple and organise tickets for the next day. From here on Im going on by my self as Grey has business in Delhi. The heat is intense and even when you don’t move the perspiration pours from our skin. Our last night in Islamabad we stayed with Sadjad, the owner of Cox and Kings travel agency, and the person with all the right contacts in Pakistan if you want to travel there. In the evening we had a great Pot- luck BBQ and copious amounts of liquor with some of the local pilots and the prime minister of the Kashmir region. That night the air conditioning was great but it must have given me a head cold. My cold really broke through during the bus ride to Manali and when I got here I was more dead then alive. Yesterday I spend in bed all day and today Im feeling a lot better. My plan is to Robbo114@hotmail.com. Cheers, Rob
rent a motorbike and tour around Ladakh for a couple of weeks. I will not maintain this blog from here on. The only addition will be a summary and travel tips at some stage. I hope you have all enjoyed travelling with me. If you ever have any questions about anything relating to Pakistan and Para Gliding feel free to contact me.
July 30. In the night it has stopped raining and in the morning the flow in the river has visibly reduced. They have constructed a flying fox over the gorge so people can come from one side to the other. All the shops are on our side and medicines and food are sent over. In the night the bottom part of a hotel, perched on the riverbank, has been swept away as has part of the park at the confluence with the Indus. Pierre is anxious to get on his way as he has a plane to catch on the first of august. I however don’t feel the same urgency and Im quiet happy to wait for the first vehicles to come though from down stream. Till then we have a place to sleep and food to eat in a reasonable safe place. The people down here are definitely not used to foreigners and often look at us with suspicion or just stare at us. Communication is also a lot harder as not many of the locals speak English. Throughout the day conflicting news comes through about people that would have made it out or into town but the impression is that tomorrow is going to be the day to make an attempt to leave. In the convoy from Gilgit we have met a young chap from Karachi on his way back from a holiday near Nanga Parbat. Sam is an excellent help in organising food and transport and makes things a lot easier for us. It stays dry all day and things are looking good for tomorrow. We pass the time playing cards and strolling down the main street noticing the dilapidated state of this place.
July 31. We get up at 7 and at 8 Pierre has found a taxi bus to take is away. A bulldozer has cleared a path trough the mud and stones that have spilled onto the road with the over flowing streams. The water level has receded enough so that we can drive trough the fords. It is only after two hours that we are stopped at a police checkpoint where we are told that we can not proceed with the car. We have to take our luggage and walk over a bridge and load up on the other side. A big landslide would be blocking the road ahead and they didn’t want the traffic backing up through the bazaar and over the bridge. However our driver organizes another bus on the other side of the bridge and by the time we are loaded up and drive to the landslide the bulldozer is just pushing the last rocks of the road. Then the devastation becomes worse again. In places there is just enough road left for the minibus to pass, the rest of the road having been eaten away by the floodwaters. We make good time and slowly leave the mountains behind us. We arrive in the first major town where we are just to late to catch the bus for Islamabad. With the help of Sam we organise a taxi to the next town to cache up with the bus and from there we drive in the first air conditioned, clean bus on roads with no potholes to Islamabad. Our friend Jabbar is at the bus station to pick us up and drive us to our hotel. It is strange to be back in a big town with all the consumables available, after two months in places with only the bare minimum in the shops. In the evening we eat pizza from pizza hut and burgers with French fries and coke. Im already missing the vege curry from the Hidden Paradise restaurant in Karimabad. It is only when we watch the news on TV in the evening that we realise the full extend of the drama that is taking pace and how lucky we have been to escape so easily. The floodwaters have now reached the plains and millions of people are displaced and many have drowned.
August 7. Time flies, even when you are not having fun. I have arrived in Manali after a gruelling 26 hours journey, what was supposed to be around 15 hours. The monsoon is also in India and a landslide had cut the only road in and out of the kullu valley and manali. Traffic backed up for ten kilometres as only a one lane strip was finally cleared and reconstructed. At some point the bus simply dropped all the passengers of, turned around and disappeared, leaving us to fend for ourselves. The rest of the trip was made on several flat deck Jeeps and finally the last bit from kullu with a bus. I thank the gods for holding back the rain as I had no means to keep my stuff dry. Grey and I stayed in Islamabad for 3 nights, we had some social engagements and had trouble finding a seat on the bus to Lahore which made us stay one more night. The whole trip to Amritsar went very smooth. The bus to Lahore did 120Kmh, a speed that we are not used to any more, then a taxi ride to the border. Here one has to walk across to India. I lost count how many times I had to show my passport but it was close to ten times. With all the luggage we have there was no way we would be able to carry it ourselves over the kilometre stretch between the borders so we had to haggle with porters to assist us, Pakistanis up to the border and then Indians on the Indian side. We left Islamabad at 7am and arrived in Amritsar at 2pm which left us enough time to have a look at the golden temple and organise tickets for the next day. From here on Im going on by my self as Grey has business in Delhi. The heat is intense and even when you don’t move the perspiration pours from our skin. Our last night in Islamabad we stayed with Sadjad, the owner of Cox and Kings travel agency, and the person with all the right contacts in Pakistan if you want to travel there. In the evening we had a great Pot- luck BBQ and copious amounts of liquor with some of the local pilots and the prime minister of the Kashmir region. That night the air conditioning was great but it must have given me a head cold. My cold really broke through during the bus ride to Manali and when I got here I was more dead then alive. Yesterday I spend in bed all day and today Im feeling a lot better. My plan is to Robbo114@hotmail.com. Cheers, Rob
rent a motorbike and tour around Ladakh for a couple of weeks. I will not maintain this blog from here on. The only addition will be a summary and travel tips at some stage. I hope you have all enjoyed travelling with me. If you ever have any questions about anything relating to Pakistan and Para Gliding feel free to contact me.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
July 27 All good things come to an end and so we prepare to leave this enchanting place. Yesterday we bought our bus tickets to Islamabad and today we got confirmation of our seats on the plane for a flight from Gilgit to Islamabad. Seen the weather forecast I think there is very little chance that the plane will be flying so I hang on to my bus ticket. Flying is our preferred choice though, a one hour flight against a bus ride of a minimum of 24 hours. Grey and Pierre have their mind set on flying but with the weather forecast the way it is I don’t think that that is going to happen Common sense prevails in the end and Grey and Pierre decide to come with the bus as well. We pay the bill at our hotel and say farewell to the owner of the Hidden paradise restaurant who has cooked for us over the last two weeks. He gives us all a few packets of dried fruit and a bar of Hunza chocolate, a mix of dried fruit and nuts to show his appreciation. I think we were his best clients for the season and he was sad to see us go. The owner of the hotel organised a taxi for us and paid for it, I think we were his best clients too. We are not looking forward to this ride and are apprehensive about the state of the bus. We could only get seats in the back of the bus so it is certainly going to be a bumpy ride. The first stage of the trip takes us back the way we had come over the road that is under reconstruction by the Chinese. It takes 4 hours to do the first ….. km which shows that it is going to be a long ride indeed. Not far from the confluence with the Indus river we run into an accident scene where a tanker truck has rolled and is across the road. It is noticeable warmer and the air is humid. After an hour the road is clear and we continue. Just before dark we are stopped at a police post. From there on busses are only allowed to travel in convoy with police escort. We are entering the tribal area and the folks around here have the habit of harvesting valuables of passengers of lonely busses. We wait for an hour and a half and later on this is the time which is going to make all the difference in our progress to Islamabad. Because of the waiting time to get the convoy going we arrive at the dining place at midnight. The next time I wake up is for another police check post where we have to show our passports. It is an eerie place in the middle of nowhere, windy, no light and a line of busses waiting in the dark. Walking along those busses in the dark with people silhouetted against the light of the head lights felt unreal. Each time the bus goes over a bump in the road we get air born and then fall back into our seats, my neck hurts but through the discomfort I manage to sleep through the night. When I wake up it is raining and that is the beginning of the end. The rain gets heavier, rocks start falling and streams swell up to torrents. I don’t remember at what time we first got stopped by a flooded bridge but we waited for two hours for the water to recede. From there on things got worse. The incessant rain found its way into the bus and the water dripped through the air-conditioning vents. Mid day passed and the possibility of another night in the bus started to loom. The bus driver was a skilled person and we never actually got stuck but driving over those flooded fords was a frightening experience. Sitting in the back of the bus there simply is no escape if things should go wrong. We traversed several of those fords and it was sometimes unclear why we had been waiting so long before crossing it as the rain never let up and the water level only got higher. We finally reached the first important town on the south side of the Indus gorge and that is where we stood for an impassable obstacle for the bus. A stream from a side valley had swollen to unbelievable proportions. A bend in the road followed the bend in the stream and the now raging torrent tore away at the ground. When we arrived already half of the road had eroded away so it was impossible for the bus to reach the bridge. The water had been passing over the bridge but because off a temporary abatement in the rain the level had dropped enough for pedestrians to cross. The water was the colour of dark chocolate and the air was filled with the smell of wet earth. We got our bags as soon as possible and ran over the bridge. The roar of the water was deafening and the sound of enormous boulders careering over the bottom of the river sounded like canon fire. The volume of water was bigger then the bridge allowed for and so every now and then a big wave would spew over the top. This action of getting over the bridge saved our bacon. An hour later the bridge flooded and became impassable. On the other side we found a cheap hotel, got something to eat and put our heads down nice and early.
July 29. The events are overwhelming. We have passed a good night sleep in our hotel but it rained the whole night and so the flooding continues. The raging torrent has turned into an all devouring monster. The road that we walked yesterday to cross the bridge has been completely carved away and the river is now a good fifty metres wider. The bridge is invisible under the enormous volume of water that presses around and over it. The on and off ramp washed away and the narrow passage around the bridge was a boiling mass of muddy water. Tons and tons of topsoil are being washed away every second. The really disturbing sight is the amount of building materials that race by on the surface. The road into the side valley is practicable for a few hundred metres and then it is blocked by some rock fall and washed away by the enormous forces at work. At times the earth shudders when big boulders in the flow race by. The bed of the river directs the flow against a rock wall which divides the water. It creates an gigantic vertex that turns at great speed and eats away at the terraced cornfields on the other side of the river. A house that looks like it has been finished not long ago is on the edge of the water and with the vertex eating away at the land on one side and the raging river on the other side, it looks doomed to disappear. On our side of the water is also a house right on the edge and the people are getting whatever belongings they can salvage before their home topples into the flow. The amazing thing is that while all this tragedy is going on some people risk their lives trying to salvage drift wood out of the churning water. The vortex is catching big quantities of flotsam and spits them out into the eddies close to the shore. Those people were standing on ground that was rapidly sliding into the river and while hanging onto branches they would pull the timber out of the water. It was timber from houses that have been destroyed further upstream and later in the day the horror stories start to come in from whole villages that have been swept away by the rising waters inhabitants and all. The sheer power of the water is frightening and we are all silenced by this overwhelming force of destruction. Later in the morning the new concrete house toppled into the river and got simply swallowed up by the water as if it was an aspirin dissolving in a glass of water. Many power lines come down as the poles topple into the flow so the power supply stops. We realise that it is going to take some time before we will able to continue our trip. News is hard to get as nobody can get in or out of town and the only way to get news is via the cell phone. From our friends in Islamabad we hear that the flooding is wide spread and that the rain will continue for another 24 hours. We also hear that a plane has crashed trying to land in bad weather in Islamabad and that all 152 people on board have perished. Sorry I have to post this and run.to be continued…….
July 29. The events are overwhelming. We have passed a good night sleep in our hotel but it rained the whole night and so the flooding continues. The raging torrent has turned into an all devouring monster. The road that we walked yesterday to cross the bridge has been completely carved away and the river is now a good fifty metres wider. The bridge is invisible under the enormous volume of water that presses around and over it. The on and off ramp washed away and the narrow passage around the bridge was a boiling mass of muddy water. Tons and tons of topsoil are being washed away every second. The really disturbing sight is the amount of building materials that race by on the surface. The road into the side valley is practicable for a few hundred metres and then it is blocked by some rock fall and washed away by the enormous forces at work. At times the earth shudders when big boulders in the flow race by. The bed of the river directs the flow against a rock wall which divides the water. It creates an gigantic vertex that turns at great speed and eats away at the terraced cornfields on the other side of the river. A house that looks like it has been finished not long ago is on the edge of the water and with the vertex eating away at the land on one side and the raging river on the other side, it looks doomed to disappear. On our side of the water is also a house right on the edge and the people are getting whatever belongings they can salvage before their home topples into the flow. The amazing thing is that while all this tragedy is going on some people risk their lives trying to salvage drift wood out of the churning water. The vortex is catching big quantities of flotsam and spits them out into the eddies close to the shore. Those people were standing on ground that was rapidly sliding into the river and while hanging onto branches they would pull the timber out of the water. It was timber from houses that have been destroyed further upstream and later in the day the horror stories start to come in from whole villages that have been swept away by the rising waters inhabitants and all. The sheer power of the water is frightening and we are all silenced by this overwhelming force of destruction. Later in the morning the new concrete house toppled into the river and got simply swallowed up by the water as if it was an aspirin dissolving in a glass of water. Many power lines come down as the poles topple into the flow so the power supply stops. We realise that it is going to take some time before we will able to continue our trip. News is hard to get as nobody can get in or out of town and the only way to get news is via the cell phone. From our friends in Islamabad we hear that the flooding is wide spread and that the rain will continue for another 24 hours. We also hear that a plane has crashed trying to land in bad weather in Islamabad and that all 152 people on board have perished. Sorry I have to post this and run.to be continued…….
Sunday, July 25, 2010
July 21. It has rained all night and it still drizzles in the morning. It’s a tough life. Pancake breakfast at the Hidden Paradise restaurant and coffee with walnut cake at Hunza café followed by an internet session at zero point internet café. The weather forecast is good for Friday and the weekend. Lets hope we finish of our trip on a high note.
July 25. The 22nd was another rainy day and a good 20 degrees colder than last week. We spent the day doing absolutely nothing apart from the 3 trips to our favourite restaurant for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It surprises us that we can put up with this. The 23th was flyable and Grey and I got away. We walked up high above our usual launch site to increase our chances to get away but even then Pierre was unlucky and was in the landing field after 20 minutes. We flew down the Karimabad spur to the west and flew with a couple of vultures a few times. Then we decided to have a look at the new lake behind the landslide. The moment I turned around I dropped out of the lift and sank out all the way to karimabad where the youth goes crazy every time we fly over. Grey stayed up another hour and flew close to the fort so I could take some video. The weather forecast for the next days was good so we organised ourselves with transport and porters for a 1200 metres climb to a launch site a bid to the east of the eagles nest. The 24th we got up at 5am and drove up to the eagles nest with two Jeeps, one for us and the gliders and one for the porters. I don’t feel to good about getting another human to carry my stuff, I feel like a colonial with his coolie. But that feeling fades once the going gets tough, I couldn’t have gotten up that hill carrying all my own gear. The day looks great but once on the launch site it is very stable. We are at 4300metres and the inversion is below us, the clouds that form are generated above the inversion. It makes for an infuriating couple of hours flying, wearing way to many clothes and hitting the inversion and turbulence at 3900. The lift is close to the mountain so it is intense flying, always close to the ground. It is not till we get to the end of the karimabad ridge that we are able to push trough the inversion and climb to over 4000 metres. I flew on the opposite side of the valley of Rakaposhe and had a awesome view of this 7788metres high mountain with its many glaciers clinging to its slopes. The walk up had sapped Grey and myself of quiet a bid of energy and on the launch site we felt the effect of the altitude. That and the intense flying took its toll and after three hours I had had enough. I flew back to our start point to make an out and return and then went to land in our usual landing spot right next to Grey who had already packed. I decided that that was my last flight in Pakistan. There has to be something to come back for. A flight over the top of Rakaposhe is one reason. We are told by the locals that spring time is more unstable. I will have to ask the experts, John silvester and Brad sanders about that. In a few days we go back to Islamabad, either by plane or by bus. Today we woke to a mainly bleu sky but the high cloud is motoring along at a hundred kmp. Non of us is very enthusiastic about flying and the lure of the café life is strong. Tomorrow we will rent a Jeep and drive into another valley and go for a walk I think.
July 25. The 22nd was another rainy day and a good 20 degrees colder than last week. We spent the day doing absolutely nothing apart from the 3 trips to our favourite restaurant for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It surprises us that we can put up with this. The 23th was flyable and Grey and I got away. We walked up high above our usual launch site to increase our chances to get away but even then Pierre was unlucky and was in the landing field after 20 minutes. We flew down the Karimabad spur to the west and flew with a couple of vultures a few times. Then we decided to have a look at the new lake behind the landslide. The moment I turned around I dropped out of the lift and sank out all the way to karimabad where the youth goes crazy every time we fly over. Grey stayed up another hour and flew close to the fort so I could take some video. The weather forecast for the next days was good so we organised ourselves with transport and porters for a 1200 metres climb to a launch site a bid to the east of the eagles nest. The 24th we got up at 5am and drove up to the eagles nest with two Jeeps, one for us and the gliders and one for the porters. I don’t feel to good about getting another human to carry my stuff, I feel like a colonial with his coolie. But that feeling fades once the going gets tough, I couldn’t have gotten up that hill carrying all my own gear. The day looks great but once on the launch site it is very stable. We are at 4300metres and the inversion is below us, the clouds that form are generated above the inversion. It makes for an infuriating couple of hours flying, wearing way to many clothes and hitting the inversion and turbulence at 3900. The lift is close to the mountain so it is intense flying, always close to the ground. It is not till we get to the end of the karimabad ridge that we are able to push trough the inversion and climb to over 4000 metres. I flew on the opposite side of the valley of Rakaposhe and had a awesome view of this 7788metres high mountain with its many glaciers clinging to its slopes. The walk up had sapped Grey and myself of quiet a bid of energy and on the launch site we felt the effect of the altitude. That and the intense flying took its toll and after three hours I had had enough. I flew back to our start point to make an out and return and then went to land in our usual landing spot right next to Grey who had already packed. I decided that that was my last flight in Pakistan. There has to be something to come back for. A flight over the top of Rakaposhe is one reason. We are told by the locals that spring time is more unstable. I will have to ask the experts, John silvester and Brad sanders about that. In a few days we go back to Islamabad, either by plane or by bus. Today we woke to a mainly bleu sky but the high cloud is motoring along at a hundred kmp. Non of us is very enthusiastic about flying and the lure of the café life is strong. Tomorrow we will rent a Jeep and drive into another valley and go for a walk I think.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
July 13. Well, that didn’t happen. We are getting a little taste of the monsoon so it was overcast most of the day with a few spots of rain. The weather forecast is for a few days of this so tomorrow, if it doesn’t rain, we take a Jeep ride into one of the valleys to get a close up look of one of those giant glaciers around here. Today we went for a walk around the area along irrigation channels and trough a maze of pathways. It keeps amazing me to what lengths humans go to make the environment inhabitable for them. Thousands upon thousands of tons of rock have been and are being moved to create terraces and water channels to be able to grow crops.
July 14. We took the Jeep into the Hopper valley. After an hours drive we reached the end of the road and The Hilton Inn, from where the walking track climbs over a little rise to reveal the first glacier. As every where, the people are desperate for visitors and we get assaulted by people selling things as soon as we get out of the car. Out of pity more then necessity we take a guide to show us the way. The glacier is covered with rocks but some parts are fairly active and huge seracs have been pushed up. The scenery is big and wild and it feels good to have my feet on the ground. Flying is a great way to see a lot of country with minimal effort but for me it doesn’t leave the same dept of impression as a walk. It is a partly cloudy day which is just as well. It is still hot and breakfast wasn’t sitting to well with me so about three quarters of the way in I turn around to make it slowly back to the car. Grey continued with the guide along a second glacier to reach a summer grazing area with Sheppard’s huts and stunning views of the high peaks all around. When we get back to the hotel a fourth pilot has arrived. Mukrim has to leave in a few days so it is great to have someone else to replace him.
July 15. It was a flyable day but once in the air it was rough and inverted. This launch is not very high and with the current conditions it is very much hit and miss weather one gets away or not. This time it is Mukrim again that misses and ends up in the landing field after 10 minutes. The air was very rough and inverted and after two hours of trying to get higher dark clouds started to form to the south with the sound of thunder reaching us, time to land
The 16th Grey, Pierre and I take the taxi up to Eagles nest. Halfway up the road is blocked by a new landslide. Tonnes of mud and rocks have spilled from the slope above the road. A reminder of the fragility of this man made oasis. The slopes are steep and the layer of arable soil lose and overlaying solid rock, the irrigation water a perfect lubricant to get things sliding. We walk across and catch another taxi to take us to the end of the road. It has been very warm and the air has been stable so we are having a late start. We are driving up because there is a few small clouds forming, giving us the hope to find some thermals. The walk up is pretty hot this late in the day and I suffer under the load of my glider and all the bivi gear. Getting ready and putting on a long john, fleece pants, pants and flight suit plus double down jacket is an energy sapping exercise when the temperature is over 30 degrees Celsius. The thermal cycles are weak and, as usual, across the slope. I shoot straight across the canyon and have to scratch a long time very close to the slope before I can relax a little. Pierre and Grey launch shortly after me but do not find the lift I got and sadly sink out to the village. I climb out and repeat the flight around Lady finger and Hunza peak. Then around 3 o’clock all thermal activity stops and I glide across the hunza valley towards The Rakaposhe side and get a glimpse of the enormous ice fields that surround this mountain. Then I glide back to Karimabad and phone Grey to come to the fort to take some pictures while I soar around it. Another great flight, I cant be to enthusiastic as Grey and Pierre bombed out, hopefully we get some more instability soon so we all get to fly this awesome scenery.
July 17. The sky is an azure bleu with not one single cloud. It is hot and nothing stirs. Time to play the tourist and visit the nearby fort. The Altit fort was build some 800 years ago and has some interesting Tibetan characteristics. The little village at its foot is unspoiled by concrete structures and is a maze of little alley ways. Prince Charles was here in 2002 and visited one of the local houses. The owner has turned the place into a shrine and points out were the prince sat and were he put his hand, all riveting stuff.
The village square is a water reservoir that doubles as the kids swimming pool and with this heat it is full of them, daring each other to jump the highest from the trees surrounding the water.
July 18. The stable conditions persist and we stabilise with it. We are becoming so stable, we hardly move. It was a day doing nothing more than eating, sleeping, internet and lamenting with the locals about the lack of tourists. The people here are getting a raw deal. First of all Osama blew up the twin towers and as a result the conflict spilled over the border into Pakistan. Pakistan is supporting the Americans so the Taliban fights against it with a few bomb attacks on the capital. As a result the tourism numbers have dropped to virtually nothing and the people relying on tourism are left to fend for themselves. Just imagine this happening in New Zealand or any other big tourist destination. The little town of Karimabad has developed on tourism with the main street lined with tourist shops full of carpets, shawls and other nick knacks. The streets are empty but the shop owners are still putting out there wares and sit in front of their shops eagerly awaiting the arrival of the hordes that are not coming. It is hard to look at the pour buggers sitting there day in and day out looking at us with expecting eyes. Yesterday I asked the guy at the ticket office for the fort how many visitors he had had. Two people had bought a ticket. We kind of laughed about it and decided that that was better then crying, which would scare away any potential client. On top of the perceived danger of terrorism they have to deal with a natural disaster that has come in the form of a land slide that has wiped out one village and has created a dam of a mile wide and some hundred metres high. The lake behind the dam is now 30km long and has drowned several villages and the Karakorum highway to China. All road transport to and from China has ceased and on top of that the road to the south is under reconstruction in a way that a trip that took 55minutes 5 years ago now takes 5 hours. If all this would befall any valley anywhere in the western world people would rise up and make sure that the rest of the world would know about there predicament and that their leaders would do something about it. Here the government is corrupt at all levels and the people seem in shock.
I wonder how much longer these people are going to take it before they rise up and revolt. I guess what saves them is the fact that most still have their land and grow their own potatoes and cereals and fruit.
July 19. Today is a day to forget for me. We went to the launch late as the conditions looked stable. Pierre hired a guide and porter and walked up a thousand metres above the launch site early in the morning. When we saw him climb up after launching we rushed up the mountain to join the puffy clouds that started to appear in the sky. As usual the thermal cycles were weak and across the hill and I repeated my routine by flying over the ravine to try and catch the lift on the other side. This time I was out of tune with the thermal cycles and sank out below the level from where to expect to work my way up again. Grey was 5 minutes behind me and worked his way up in no time. I worked hard above the fort in light lift, to the delight of the kids in the village who clapped and whistled at my efforts. I gained a few hundred metres but never got high enough to connect with the rocks and the soaring crows and my day was over in 20 minutes. Grey had an awesome flight, reached 6800metres and got pretty close to Rakaposhe.
July 20. The end is nigh. One more week and we will be leaving Pakistan. Today we woke to a cloudy sky and stumbled from breakfast to coffee, the first real one in 8 weeks, to a game of cards, to lunch and a siesta. Then at 2 in the afternoon we set of for a walk into the canyon that we fly over. There is an incredible feat of local engineering build on and in the wall of the canyon. They have blasted a ledge in the wall and build up the sides with dry stacked stone to create a canal that runs the water from the glacier nose into the village. The drop is sheer and several hundred metres deep in places and the walk along it a bid unnerving.
July 14. We took the Jeep into the Hopper valley. After an hours drive we reached the end of the road and The Hilton Inn, from where the walking track climbs over a little rise to reveal the first glacier. As every where, the people are desperate for visitors and we get assaulted by people selling things as soon as we get out of the car. Out of pity more then necessity we take a guide to show us the way. The glacier is covered with rocks but some parts are fairly active and huge seracs have been pushed up. The scenery is big and wild and it feels good to have my feet on the ground. Flying is a great way to see a lot of country with minimal effort but for me it doesn’t leave the same dept of impression as a walk. It is a partly cloudy day which is just as well. It is still hot and breakfast wasn’t sitting to well with me so about three quarters of the way in I turn around to make it slowly back to the car. Grey continued with the guide along a second glacier to reach a summer grazing area with Sheppard’s huts and stunning views of the high peaks all around. When we get back to the hotel a fourth pilot has arrived. Mukrim has to leave in a few days so it is great to have someone else to replace him.
July 15. It was a flyable day but once in the air it was rough and inverted. This launch is not very high and with the current conditions it is very much hit and miss weather one gets away or not. This time it is Mukrim again that misses and ends up in the landing field after 10 minutes. The air was very rough and inverted and after two hours of trying to get higher dark clouds started to form to the south with the sound of thunder reaching us, time to land
The 16th Grey, Pierre and I take the taxi up to Eagles nest. Halfway up the road is blocked by a new landslide. Tonnes of mud and rocks have spilled from the slope above the road. A reminder of the fragility of this man made oasis. The slopes are steep and the layer of arable soil lose and overlaying solid rock, the irrigation water a perfect lubricant to get things sliding. We walk across and catch another taxi to take us to the end of the road. It has been very warm and the air has been stable so we are having a late start. We are driving up because there is a few small clouds forming, giving us the hope to find some thermals. The walk up is pretty hot this late in the day and I suffer under the load of my glider and all the bivi gear. Getting ready and putting on a long john, fleece pants, pants and flight suit plus double down jacket is an energy sapping exercise when the temperature is over 30 degrees Celsius. The thermal cycles are weak and, as usual, across the slope. I shoot straight across the canyon and have to scratch a long time very close to the slope before I can relax a little. Pierre and Grey launch shortly after me but do not find the lift I got and sadly sink out to the village. I climb out and repeat the flight around Lady finger and Hunza peak. Then around 3 o’clock all thermal activity stops and I glide across the hunza valley towards The Rakaposhe side and get a glimpse of the enormous ice fields that surround this mountain. Then I glide back to Karimabad and phone Grey to come to the fort to take some pictures while I soar around it. Another great flight, I cant be to enthusiastic as Grey and Pierre bombed out, hopefully we get some more instability soon so we all get to fly this awesome scenery.
July 17. The sky is an azure bleu with not one single cloud. It is hot and nothing stirs. Time to play the tourist and visit the nearby fort. The Altit fort was build some 800 years ago and has some interesting Tibetan characteristics. The little village at its foot is unspoiled by concrete structures and is a maze of little alley ways. Prince Charles was here in 2002 and visited one of the local houses. The owner has turned the place into a shrine and points out were the prince sat and were he put his hand, all riveting stuff.
The village square is a water reservoir that doubles as the kids swimming pool and with this heat it is full of them, daring each other to jump the highest from the trees surrounding the water.
July 18. The stable conditions persist and we stabilise with it. We are becoming so stable, we hardly move. It was a day doing nothing more than eating, sleeping, internet and lamenting with the locals about the lack of tourists. The people here are getting a raw deal. First of all Osama blew up the twin towers and as a result the conflict spilled over the border into Pakistan. Pakistan is supporting the Americans so the Taliban fights against it with a few bomb attacks on the capital. As a result the tourism numbers have dropped to virtually nothing and the people relying on tourism are left to fend for themselves. Just imagine this happening in New Zealand or any other big tourist destination. The little town of Karimabad has developed on tourism with the main street lined with tourist shops full of carpets, shawls and other nick knacks. The streets are empty but the shop owners are still putting out there wares and sit in front of their shops eagerly awaiting the arrival of the hordes that are not coming. It is hard to look at the pour buggers sitting there day in and day out looking at us with expecting eyes. Yesterday I asked the guy at the ticket office for the fort how many visitors he had had. Two people had bought a ticket. We kind of laughed about it and decided that that was better then crying, which would scare away any potential client. On top of the perceived danger of terrorism they have to deal with a natural disaster that has come in the form of a land slide that has wiped out one village and has created a dam of a mile wide and some hundred metres high. The lake behind the dam is now 30km long and has drowned several villages and the Karakorum highway to China. All road transport to and from China has ceased and on top of that the road to the south is under reconstruction in a way that a trip that took 55minutes 5 years ago now takes 5 hours. If all this would befall any valley anywhere in the western world people would rise up and make sure that the rest of the world would know about there predicament and that their leaders would do something about it. Here the government is corrupt at all levels and the people seem in shock.
I wonder how much longer these people are going to take it before they rise up and revolt. I guess what saves them is the fact that most still have their land and grow their own potatoes and cereals and fruit.
July 19. Today is a day to forget for me. We went to the launch late as the conditions looked stable. Pierre hired a guide and porter and walked up a thousand metres above the launch site early in the morning. When we saw him climb up after launching we rushed up the mountain to join the puffy clouds that started to appear in the sky. As usual the thermal cycles were weak and across the hill and I repeated my routine by flying over the ravine to try and catch the lift on the other side. This time I was out of tune with the thermal cycles and sank out below the level from where to expect to work my way up again. Grey was 5 minutes behind me and worked his way up in no time. I worked hard above the fort in light lift, to the delight of the kids in the village who clapped and whistled at my efforts. I gained a few hundred metres but never got high enough to connect with the rocks and the soaring crows and my day was over in 20 minutes. Grey had an awesome flight, reached 6800metres and got pretty close to Rakaposhe.
July 20. The end is nigh. One more week and we will be leaving Pakistan. Today we woke to a cloudy sky and stumbled from breakfast to coffee, the first real one in 8 weeks, to a game of cards, to lunch and a siesta. Then at 2 in the afternoon we set of for a walk into the canyon that we fly over. There is an incredible feat of local engineering build on and in the wall of the canyon. They have blasted a ledge in the wall and build up the sides with dry stacked stone to create a canal that runs the water from the glacier nose into the village. The drop is sheer and several hundred metres deep in places and the walk along it a bid unnerving.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
July 11. Forget all I have said till now about big mountains. Big is a measure of your experience, just like heavy is a measure of your strength. If you are not very strong, then little weight feels heavy. Well I hadn’t seen any big mountains till now. Now I know what a big mountain looks like!!!!! I had a great little flight today, now further then 10Km away from launch but at the highest point 3300 metres above it. We went up to launch at 11 and it must have been after 12 when we launched. Again the airflow was across the hill but the thermal cycles were more frequent then yesterday. I climbed a bid further up the mountain then Mukrim but by the time I had my Vario working I was at the same level as him. We scratched around for a few minutes maintaining height and then I shot across the canyon that empties out the Ultar basin behind Karimabad. It saved the day for me as the lift was much stronger on the other side. Mukrim stayed behind and slowly sank out. The mountain crows showed me the way and later avulture took me to cloud base. I flew around the Lady finger and soared up to the top of Hunza peak at 6270 metres. I took some video and photos of the surrounding scenery and although I totally enjoyed the flight it was only when I saw back the images that I realised how totally awesome it was. I could have flown far but I paced myself and was happy to just boat around. When I walked up back to the hotel, Grey drove past in a mini van, just arriving from Gilgit. He has had enough of driving and has a soar bum because, like me, he hasn’t got much meat left on his arse.
We go out for dinner to the same place I went with Mukrim last night and we stuff our face with delicious mixed veggies, chicken and potatoes with pancakes for desert. It is great to be able to eat vegetables again and the effect on body and mind is noticeable.
July 12.The sky is filled with cumulus cloud early in the morning and by 10am it is OD ing. We have another rest day, fill ourselves up with food and visit this little town. We talk with many of the shop keepers and locals. It is the inauguration celebrations for the spiritual leader of the Ismalis Muslims, the predominant Muslim religion around here. As part of the celebrations the locals lid fires all around high in the mountains last night. Traditionally they would envelope big boulders in timber and roll those down the hill burning. The boulders have been replaced by used tires that they set alight with petrol. The effect is quiet spectacular in the dark. The tyres role for hundreds of metres down the hills leaving behind a trail of fire and at some point they would do a free fall of several hundred metres and then explode in a ball of fire at the bottom. A great way to get rid of used tires, NOT. Now we are all ready for some big flying tomorrow.
We go out for dinner to the same place I went with Mukrim last night and we stuff our face with delicious mixed veggies, chicken and potatoes with pancakes for desert. It is great to be able to eat vegetables again and the effect on body and mind is noticeable.
July 12.The sky is filled with cumulus cloud early in the morning and by 10am it is OD ing. We have another rest day, fill ourselves up with food and visit this little town. We talk with many of the shop keepers and locals. It is the inauguration celebrations for the spiritual leader of the Ismalis Muslims, the predominant Muslim religion around here. As part of the celebrations the locals lid fires all around high in the mountains last night. Traditionally they would envelope big boulders in timber and roll those down the hill burning. The boulders have been replaced by used tires that they set alight with petrol. The effect is quiet spectacular in the dark. The tyres role for hundreds of metres down the hills leaving behind a trail of fire and at some point they would do a free fall of several hundred metres and then explode in a ball of fire at the bottom. A great way to get rid of used tires, NOT. Now we are all ready for some big flying tomorrow.
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