Sailing over Khumbu
Sun Valley paraglider soars
above the Himalayas
By GREG MOORE
Express Staff Writer
When Chuck Smith, the owner of Fly
Sun Valley, took Nepalese Sherpas paragliding in the shadow of Mount
Everest last fall, they didn’t need to speak English to let him know
they were having a good time.
"I knew immediately from their
smiles and their laughter," Smith said.
It seems that the reaction most
people have to floating freely over the landscape for the first time is
universal.
Chuck Smith and a buddy fly in
the "Goddess of the Sky" area of the Himalayas. Courtesy photo by
Dick Jackson
Last fall, Smith was invited to
join a group of three other top-level paragliders on a trip to the
Himalayas. The trip had two goals—to fly from the top of 21,000-foot
Kyajo Ri and to introduce some of the local inhabitants to the sport.
The team members felt that that would be partial repayment for the
crucial help the Sherpas had given to so many Himalayan expeditions.
The six-week-long trip was
documented in a film called "Over Khumbu," tentatively scheduled to be
shown during the Telluride Mountainfilm Festival.
A former national paragliding
champion, Smith became intrigued with the sport in the late 1980s—when
it was just getting started in the United States.
"I had saved up a bunch of money
for college but then I discovered paragliding and got detoured," said
Smith, now 40.
Since there weren’t any
instructors at the time, he was self-taught at first, improving his
skills with a year in Europe. After he returned, he flew near his
boyhood home on Cape Cod, where he discovered he could stay aloft for as
long as eight hours on the updrafts created by the sand dunes. His
immediate future was solidified when someone said to him, "You know more
than anyone else in the country, so why not teach it?"
Smith became a partner in a
paragliding business in Aspen, and later helped launch Sun Valley
Paragliding. When that business lost its permit from the U.S. Forest
Service in 2002, he returned to the Wood River Valley and picked it up.
When Smith was in Telluride,
Colo., in September for the U.S. Paragliding Nationals, his old business
partner, Dick Jackson, invited him on the Nepal trip. Smith asked for a
day to think about it, but, he said, he knew immediately that he would
go.
Though a French paraglider had
flown from the top of Mt. Everest in 1988, the group received the first
permit to paraglide in Sagamartha National Park. The park’s name is also
the Nepalese name for Mt. Everest, and means "goddess of the sky."
The group’s arrival in the park
was via the small airstrip 9,000 feet above sea level at the town of
Lukla, from where they trekked to Khumjung, at 12,000 feet. To get
acclimated, they made several flights from a hillside 3,000 feet above
town.
Hoping to be invited on a flight,
the group’s Sherpa porters eagerly helped carry the two tandem gliders
up the hill. Each flight touched down in the town’s schoolyard, where
excited kids swarmed the flyers.
The group took about 25 of the
local residents for flights. Though most people could hardly wait to get
on a glider, Smith said, some declined. He said many of those were older
residents, and some did so for religious reasons.
"They didn’t think flying was for
humans," he said.
One problem with flying at 15,000
feet is that the thin air makes it difficult to get airborne. Smith said
the team members were concerned that it might be impossible to get a
tandem flight off the ground. However, he said, the Sherpas are small
people and most of them are very fit. They had no problem running hard
enough to take off.
During the flights, Smith shot
video from a boom attached to his glider, while a cameraman shot from
the ground.
En route to their primary goal,
Kyajo Ri, the team set a high camp at 17,000 feet on a moraine at the
base of a glacier. However, after traversing the glacier, they
discovered they were blocked by cliffs and couldn’t reach their intended
route up the mountain.
But they saw that an adjacent
mountain, called Luza Peak, had what looked like a good, snow-covered
launch ramp off its summit toward the valley 6,000 feet below.
A major problem with flying in the
Himalayas, Smith said, is that at high altitudes, it’s almost always
windy. But either luck or the Buddhist ceremony they performed at the
start of their journey from Khumjung brought them perfect flying
conditions from the summit of Luza.
"The day we summited was the only
day to fly," Smith said.
Standing at their launch site at
over 20,000 feet, the group was already 2,000 feet higher than the
altitude ceiling the Federal Aeronautics Administration places on
paragliders in Idaho. After he launched, Smith found a thermal that took
him even higher. As he soared over the valley, he gazed toward three of
the tallest mountains in the world—Everest, Lhotse and Makalu.
It was the most spectacular flight
of Smith’s career, but like all paragliding flights, it was a matter of
navigating through an invisible landscape of air currents.
"It’s just you and the elements,"
he said.