Day 64
Today I'm in: Iquique and Antofagasta, Chile
After yesterday's botched paragliding expedition, it was nice to wake up to sunny-er skies this morning. There were still some gray clouds here and there (and the weather got worse as the day went on) but when I checked in with the staff at the flight camp they said we were definitely going up to the "takeoff site" today just before lunchtime. With that settled, I went for a run along the beach, got breakfast, and got ready to head up into the hills.
Most of the city of Iquique is down along the water, running for about four miles along the ocean with the mountains rising up steeply behind. In the last 15-20 years a pretty sizeable satellite city has developed at Alto Hospicio at the top of the mountains, and it's connected today by a four-lane freeway that threads its way along the side of the cliff. That's what we - me and two other aspiring paragliders - headed up on our way to the edge of the cliff used by most of the flying companies in Iquique.
At the top we were issued "flight suits" that zipped up around our legs and arms, and then we were clipped into special seats that we wore over our shoulders and around our waist. When you walk, the seat sort of slaps along behind you, but once you get airborne you can settle back into it, sort of like a rock-climbing harness. We had a very lengthy safety briefing (although we were going basically as passengers and wouldn't be given much, if any, control over anything) and a demo of how the paraglider actually works.
A paraglider is about three times the size of a parachute and also has a porous surface that channels air. Unlike a parachute, where the pores are angled vertically, on a paraglider the pores are more horizontal. Parachutes give a controlled descent; paragliders are designed for sustained flight with lateral and vertical movement. The view from the takeoff site was basically over the edge of a cliff; I was flying with an instructor named Cristian (they matched us up with instructors based on weight and height), who pointed out several flocks of vultures circling over the city and sand dunes. The vultures use thermal winds to gain and lose altitude while circling; paraglider pilots look for the vultures to get a general idea of where the best thermals are and where they maneuver to quickly ascend or descend. I got clipped into the paraglider in front of Cristian - there were about fourteen carabiners holding us together - and we were ready to go.
Since we had a pretty good breeze coming up the mountain we didn't have do much running to get airborne; only about six or seven steps and we lifted off the ground, well ahead of the edge of the cliff. Once I settled into the seat I had to work my arms back behind the straps of the wing, so that Cristian could steer without any interference, but with that done I was free to enjoy the ride. We went up a LOT higher initially than I was expecting; Cristian was able to catch a pretty active thermal and we spun upward smoothly, but very quickly.
I'm not afraid of heights as a general rule but there were definitely some maybe-I'm-not-OK-with-this moments, especially when other paragliders came close to us and when we went out over the ocean (if the glider falls, you're probably dead no matter what, but over sand dunes you still feel like maybe the landing will be soft.) During the setup process I forgot to ask for a strap for my camera, so taking pictures was interesting and terrifying - I had visions of my camera plummeting down into the city or the sand dunes, so I was gripping it for dear life. Mostly, though, the ride was a lot of fun.
We flew about 8.5 kilometers in total and the flight lasted around 35 minutes. When it was time to land, we headed for Playa Brava, one of the city's main beaches, and found a thermal that we could use to get down. We spiraled down pretty rapidly - passing right alongside several high-rise condo towers where residents were waving to us from the balconies - and headed for the beach. Cristian told me to slide out of my seat so my legs were hanging - the equivalent of putting down a landing gear - which was pretty disconcerting. The brakes are not activated until just a second or two before you hit the beach, so the sand came rushing up at a VERY fast clip. At the last second, we hit the brakes, and the touchdown was actually very soft. The flight company's van was waiting and we went back up to do it again.
The second flight was a little bit shorter than the first - it was getting cloudier and the winds less predictable - but we managed to make it all the way to the beach again (on certain days they have to land on the sand dunes, which means a long walk to the nearest road.) All in all, it was an awesome experience and one I'd love to try again. The next time I'm in Colorado or Utah I may have to look for a paragliding company; reportedly Iquique is one of the best places in the world to do it, however. The winds in the Rockies are more turbulent and so most flights are much shorter and much more strictly controlled. It was nice having Cristian do most of the piloting, but someday when I've got more time and money it might be fun to take some more intensive lessons and learn to do everything for myself.
After the second flight I ditched the flight suit and walked back into central Iquique for a late lunch and to take photos since I'd forgotten a camera yesterday. The city center was much busier on Monday than it was on a Sunday morning - there were people everywhere, particularly in the Plaza General Prat, the center of town where the distinctive wooden clock tower (in place since the 1870s) looks out over the city. In summertime (our winter) Iquique's population increases by almost 50% as southerners come north for beach holidays.
Around sunset I returned to the hotel, packed up and headed to the airport for my flight to Antofagasta, where I'm writing this entry now. We landed at night, so I didn't get much of an introduction to the city - like Iquique, it's on the coast and backs up to the Atacama Desert, so during the descent and landing I barely saw any lights out the airplane window, just black. I didn't even know we were as low as we were until suddenly the runway lights appeared below us. The city itself seems to be fairly large - it's Chile's third biggest - but I'm saving the exploration for tomorrow.
Today I'm in: Iquique and Antofagasta, Chile
After yesterday's botched paragliding expedition, it was nice to wake up to sunny-er skies this morning. There were still some gray clouds here and there (and the weather got worse as the day went on) but when I checked in with the staff at the flight camp they said we were definitely going up to the "takeoff site" today just before lunchtime. With that settled, I went for a run along the beach, got breakfast, and got ready to head up into the hills.Most of the city of Iquique is down along the water, running for about four miles along the ocean with the mountains rising up steeply behind. In the last 15-20 years a pretty sizeable satellite city has developed at Alto Hospicio at the top of the mountains, and it's connected today by a four-lane freeway that threads its way along the side of the cliff. That's what we - me and two other aspiring paragliders - headed up on our way to the edge of the cliff used by most of the flying companies in Iquique.
At the top we were issued "flight suits" that zipped up around our legs and arms, and then we were clipped into special seats that we wore over our shoulders and around our waist. When you walk, the seat sort of slaps along behind you, but once you get airborne you can settle back into it, sort of like a rock-climbing harness. We had a very lengthy safety briefing (although we were going basically as passengers and wouldn't be given much, if any, control over anything) and a demo of how the paraglider actually works.
A paraglider is about three times the size of a parachute and also has a porous surface that channels air. Unlike a parachute, where the pores are angled vertically, on a paraglider the pores are more horizontal. Parachutes give a controlled descent; paragliders are designed for sustained flight with lateral and vertical movement. The view from the takeoff site was basically over the edge of a cliff; I was flying with an instructor named Cristian (they matched us up with instructors based on weight and height), who pointed out several flocks of vultures circling over the city and sand dunes. The vultures use thermal winds to gain and lose altitude while circling; paraglider pilots look for the vultures to get a general idea of where the best thermals are and where they maneuver to quickly ascend or descend. I got clipped into the paraglider in front of Cristian - there were about fourteen carabiners holding us together - and we were ready to go. 
Since we had a pretty good breeze coming up the mountain we didn't have do much running to get airborne; only about six or seven steps and we lifted off the ground, well ahead of the edge of the cliff. Once I settled into the seat I had to work my arms back behind the straps of the wing, so that Cristian could steer without any interference, but with that done I was free to enjoy the ride. We went up a LOT higher initially than I was expecting; Cristian was able to catch a pretty active thermal and we spun upward smoothly, but very quickly. 
I'm not afraid of heights as a general rule but there were definitely some maybe-I'm-not-OK-with-this moments, especially when other paragliders came close to us and when we went out over the ocean (if the glider falls, you're probably dead no matter what, but over sand dunes you still feel like maybe the landing will be soft.) During the setup process I forgot to ask for a strap for my camera, so taking pictures was interesting and terrifying - I had visions of my camera plummeting down into the city or the sand dunes, so I was gripping it for dear life. Mostly, though, the ride was a lot of fun. 
We flew about 8.5 kilometers in total and the flight lasted around 35 minutes. When it was time to land, we headed for Playa Brava, one of the city's main beaches, and found a thermal that we could use to get down. We spiraled down pretty rapidly - passing right alongside several high-rise condo towers where residents were waving to us from the balconies - and headed for the beach. Cristian told me to slide out of my seat so my legs were hanging - the equivalent of putting down a landing gear - which was pretty disconcerting. The brakes are not activated until just a second or two before you hit the beach, so the sand came rushing up at a VERY fast clip. At the last second, we hit the brakes, and the touchdown was actually very soft. The flight company's van was waiting and we went back up to do it again.
The second flight was a little bit shorter than the first - it was getting cloudier and the winds less predictable - but we managed to make it all the way to the beach again (on certain days they have to land on the sand dunes, which means a long walk to the nearest road.) All in all, it was an awesome experience and one I'd love to try again. The next time I'm in Colorado or Utah I may have to look for a paragliding company; reportedly Iquique is one of the best places in the world to do it, however. The winds in the Rockies are more turbulent and so most flights are much shorter and much more strictly controlled. It was nice having Cristian do most of the piloting, but someday when I've got more time and money it might be fun to take some more intensive lessons and learn to do everything for myself. 
After the second flight I ditched the flight suit and walked back into central Iquique for a late lunch and to take photos since I'd forgotten a camera yesterday. The city center was much busier on Monday than it was on a Sunday morning - there were people everywhere, particularly in the Plaza General Prat, the center of town where the distinctive wooden clock tower (in place since the 1870s) looks out over the city. In summertime (our winter) Iquique's population increases by almost 50% as southerners come north for beach holidays.
Around sunset I returned to the hotel, packed up and headed to the airport for my flight to Antofagasta, where I'm writing this entry now. We landed at night, so I didn't get much of an introduction to the city - like Iquique, it's on the coast and backs up to the Atacama Desert, so during the descent and landing I barely saw any lights out the airplane window, just black. I didn't even know we were as low as we were until suddenly the runway lights appeared below us. The city itself seems to be fairly large - it's Chile's third biggest - but I'm saving the exploration for tomorrow. 
Looks like a fun thing to do!
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