Was it Fate or Luck?

[stickandrudderman]

The best days flying I ever had:

Sometimes things happen in life that can really change the path you take from thereon in, and I've got a feeling that just such an event happened to me in November 2007.
I'm very lucky in that my girlfriend's parents are reasonably well-endowed when it comes to those precious vouchers that we all seek in order to facilitate the pursuit of pleasurable things to do with those vouchers. I'm talking about money of course....

One of the things that they've chosen to spend their vouchers on recently was a brand new apartment in a ski resort in the Swiss Alps. I can here you thinking,
“You're damn right you're lucky!”, but that's not was this story is about.

Jack and Jill (for that's what we'll call my pseudo in-laws) asked me to go to Switzerland with them in order to avail themselves of my DIY skills and install all the new furniture. (These confounded Ikea flat packs are incredibly difficult, don't you know!). Well, as we were driving along the Motorway heading towards Aigle from Sion, I noticed a PA28 on finals to land. “Aha”, thinks I, “there's an airfield nearby, what great news!”

Back in Blighty I spend a few minutes doing some research, (some of it here on *****, thanks Mountain Goat) and discover that my new spiritual home is to be the airfield of Bex, (pronounced Bay), a small grass strip that is only open to visitors in the summer months.

Girlfriend and I spend Christmas and New Year in the new apartment, which in itself was certainly no trial, and on one cloudy and windy Wednesday during our stay I decided to forego the skiing and take the 25minute drive down the hill to visit the airfield and try to make acquaintances.

I figured that on such a cloudy and windy mid-week day that it was unlikely that there was any flying going on, but I was hoping that maybe there was a cafe where I might find idle friendly pilots eager to offer the new boy a warm welcome.

The place was as deserted as a night club at tea time. I wandered around, peeking through gaps in hangar doors like a little schoolboy, as one does, when a car pulled up and a genial looking chap jumped out, opened up a hangar and disappeared inside.
I wasted no time in making his acquaintance, and he told me in very good English that he was one of only three glacier pilots on the airfield, and one of only one hundred in the whole of Switzerland! Not only that, but he was at an advanced stage of training to become an even rarer Glacier instructor, and would be more than happy to take me up the next time I was in town!
Now that's what I call a stroke of luck, so phone numbers were exchanged and off I went as happy as a kid on Christmas Day!

One month later, I'm back for some more skiing, but this time I've brought my licence and log book.
Any of you who were lucky enough to have been in the Alps around mid February will know that the weather was absolutely beautiful, with nil wind and not a cloud to be seen from horizon to horizon.

A quick call to my new best friend (I'll call him GP from now on) and time and date are fixed for us to go flying in his ski-shod PA18 Super Cub.

GP asked me what I'd like to do and I tell him that I have all day and would like to do as much as possible! He grins widely and says “OK we'll go everywhere!”

So, we depart and head off for a grand tour of the entire region.

I'm in the back but GP lets me do most of the flying, and I'm amazed at how much of a struggle it is to gain height at altitude. We select best rate of climb speed of 70 knots, but the VSI barely goes above 100fpm!

We fly close to the sides of mountains, which let me tell you is most definitely counter-intuitive. There are two reasons for this; the first is to give ourselves as much room as possible within the confines of the valley to make a 180 turn if we have to, and the second is to take advantage of the updrafts close to the rock to edge the VSI up towards the dizzy heights of 175fpm!

Our first landing site appears and GP demonstrates. He nails the speed to 70knots again (best climb speed!) and flies straight at the snow-covered mountain side ahead, directly towards the up-slope.
Now I'm not readily given to trepidation, but this experience is definitely bordering on interesting!
At the last second, just as we are about to become miners instead of pilots, GP pulls gently back on the stick and begins to increase the power. The trick is to get the climb rate just right so that it's slightly less than the inclination of the slope. We make the softest of touches on the deep snow and GP immediately increases to full power. The friction of the snow is sufficient to slow us quickly and we must continue to climb up the slope until we either reach a plateau or turn around. If we were to stop on the upslope there is a real danger that we'll do a good impression of the crabberlocker in Thunderbirds and plummet to the bottom of a very deep whole. I didn't relish the chance of meeting Virgil and Alan first hand, so was glad when GP gave a big bootfull of left rudder and suddenly we were careering down the mountain, making fresh tracks, whooping and hollering like good ol' Texans!
We leave the snow but GP continues to maintain a nose-down attitude, not only to build airspeed but have enormous fun flying down the side of the mountain at around 20ft AGL!
Once we reach around 90 knots, GP suddenly pulls up, banks steeply around and flies back at the mountain again. We land again next to our own tracks, having completed a circuit in what seemed like around 30 seconds.
This time GP maintained full power after landing until we reached the plateau at the top, whereupon we just hooned around at around half power on the snow, like teenage boys in their souped up hatchbacks in Tesco's car park late on a Friday night. Brilliant!
We took off again in the same fashion, and went off and repeated the exercise on no less than 12 glaciers, some of them beautifully isolated and far from any ski resort or even ski tracks, save for a few tell-tale signs where other pilots had been doing the same as us.
At one point we were heading for a gap in a ridge at about 10000ft, the ridge forming a huge bowl of around 3 miles diameter. We were unable to gain sufficient height, despite following the ridge for the maximum updraft, so we had to do three complete laps of this bowl, all the while gaining around 50fpm. Eventually, we headed for the gap and crossed it with about 50ft to spare, and over into Italy.
After a couple of hours we were flying alongside the majestic Matterhorn, a sight I've seen from below many times when skiing in Zermatt, but to be flying alongside and close has to be experienced to be believed. No words of mine can describe the awesome beauty, coupled with the realisation that this, finally, is what flying is all about!
GP lets me try a few landings, but I really struggle with pulling the stick back and pushing the power forward at the same time, coupled with a restricted view from the back seat. Landings were without doubt accomplished, but with nothing like the grace and aplomb of GP.

We stop for lunch on a ridge just a couple of miles from the Matterhorn, whereupon GP pulls out a gas burner and a Fondue kit!

We sit looking down on all the poor people skiing below us, and life is good. Regrettably no wine of course, but oh what a small price to pay.

It's at this time that I learn that GP has quite an impressive list of credentials;
He's “real” job is a school teacher (they must pay well in Switzerland), but he's also a ski instructor, a mountain guide, a mountain survival expert, a helicopter pilot, a hang-glider pilot, a glider pilot and has flown a micro-light all over Europe, including Scotland.
God only knows how he managed to find time to find a wife and bring up three kids as well.

After lunch we make a couple of landings right alongside the piste, and I couldn't help but smile as we “drove” up the hill, past skiers on the drag lift not 50 ft away looking astonished!

GP advises me that next time we come we can bring our skis, park up next to the lift, go skiing for a couple of hours and then fly back again. Now that is what I would say is getting towards being pretty cool.

We depart for more fun and frolicking, with a couple of stops at stunning locations for a little hike, and eventually set course back towards Bex. GP demonstrates an intimate knowledge of the topography by flying us back at around 30ft above the valley floor for most of the inbound leg.
We make an overhead join at 2200ft(!) and GP leaves me to make what is my first acceptable landing of the day, with the power off!

The airfield clubhouse is closed, but GP's daughter runs it and she is there to hand us a couple of very satisfying de-brief beers whilst we fill out our log books as follows:
4 Hrs flying time with 44 landings on 12 different glaciers!!
The cost was around the same as a couple of hours in a rented SR22, and whether GP likes it or not, I am now his best friend!

Since my visit GP has successfully completed his instructor's rating.
I've tried here to portray as best I can what a wonderful experience it was, but as I read it back now I know that I lack sufficient writing skills to really do it justice, so you must go and try it for yourselves!

PM me if you want his contact details


Happy old Hector!