Nixta Sinks

Note the in-flight toilet	Mulletzone soundtrack alert!

My father always wanted to be able to buy himself a glider. I'm never quite sure why he didn't, other than perhaps the massively increased likelihood of him dying a gruesome death half way up a Julian Alp on the border with Austria (it happened depressingly often).

We used to have lunch at Lesce airport from time to time. Curiously, it had quite a good kitchen for a while. And as we sat on the terrace we'd watch glider after glider being towed a few thousand feet into the air and released near a mountainside where it was more likely to be sent upwards either on convection or just plain old simple mountain winds.

The gliders varied from locally made fiberglass models by Elan (more famous for its skis, and in particular ski-jumping skis) to old wood and fabric dealies. Not once did I imagine I'd see something like this: A flying wing launched manually by standing in a wind (I can't imagine you could run with the thing). No tail, and landing with very little between your backside and the ground.

As always with sailplanes, there is only one landing. Awesome.

Update: Less awesome - hang-glider training typically teaches you NOT to pay attention to the very factors that could kill you. Actually, in a hang-glider almost anything can kill you, and will often try.

Labels: Flight