For many people flying Paramotors this has given their paraglider a new lease of life. It has been like giving your paraglider Prozac and Viagra – providing an addictive rush and the ability to stay up for hours.

If you decide to fly over the mountains of North Wales, you combine excitement and adventure with impressive scenery. Most of my previous paramotor flights over mountains have been one-man flights but this time I managed to persuade Jon Radford to leave the family and a half finished glass of wine behind and join me on an epic flight over the highest mountain in Wales. I could understand Jon’s initial reluctance to leave the comfortable environment of a Sunday afternoon in Oxford to join me on a flight over the high mountains of Snowdonia. Jon’s last brush with danger involved a flight over high ground on a paraglider, which resulted in a low level accident. He continued to fly, but only in flat areas using his prototype paramotor and never returned to the challenging and sometimes hostile world of flying over mountains. When I invited him to confront his demons in the form of the North Wales mountains he enthusiastically said yes knowing that he would be armed with a lightweight paramotor. This proved to be a useful ally against the ominous mountains would propel us over low-level turbulence into the safer higher altitude air above Snowdonia.

My master plan for the flight was well thought out and very meticulous; I wish I had put the same effort into the drive over to Wales and the accommodation plans late that Sunday evening. We had both packed our sleeping bags for the roadside sleeping option, but I didn't believe we would have to drive so far to find a quite lay by and that I would be shaking layer a of ice from my sleeping bag at 5.30am. The early start meant that we were able to see the very helpful Eric Jones at Eric’s Cafe near Tremadog, who sorted out our take off site near the coast at Harlech. An early start was essential because the weather was due to change quickly, so it was important to set up and launch quickly before the onset of the worsening weather. With the paramotors topped with fuel and every option for the flight discussed and confirmed we set off and began the first section of our adventure. We built up height over the take off field before seeing off on the initial stage of the journey, which included a flight past a coastal town of Harlech that surrounded a castle worthy of a page in a children’s fairy tale. After crossing the open flat area near the harbour town of Portmadog we were rewarded with a view looking over sea whirlpools and under water sand patterns as the tide and clear mountain rivers pushed and pulled the waters around the coast.

The next stage was going to become a little more challenging because we were leaving the smooth air that flows from the coastline to the complex dynamic air flow over hills and mountains. Flying around the village of Tremadog we started to encounter the first thermals and at the rock face above Eric’s cafe I called to Jon to circle in the heat rising from the rock face so that we should utilize this elevator ride of rising air to gain height so we could conserve our fuel for later. We were now looking over the tops of the smaller peaks so we decided we had sufficient height to move on and continue towards the village of Beddgelert safe in the knowledge that we would be high enough to be clear of the summit at Snowdon. At 3000ft Beddgelert looked like a model village nestling in a well-sculptured model train landscape, with the little steam train that runs to the top of Snowdon completed an unbelievable view.

I was brought back to reality when a small thermal shook my wing. I radioed to Jon that I was going to use these warm air elevators one more time before our final run for the summit. We circled like a pair of mountain buzzards towards thin wispy clouds that were forming at 4000ft. At 5000ft my rate of climb began to slow down and we made a final dash to what looked like the top of the world. Jon looked like a little dot against the mountain landscape because he was now several hundred feet beneath me. I was slightly concerned for his safety but reassured myself that he was probably higher that I estimated because height is very difficult to judge and Jon is a wise enough pilot to give himself enough of a safety margin in the big stuff. The cool conditions at this height were beginning to work their way through my fleecy clothing, but landing somewhere below me to warm my hands looked like a dangerous option because it was an area of deep valleys and boulder-strewn ridges.

For both of us Snowdon was a very significant part of our memories of our past. When Jon was eleven he had scrambled to the top with his father to launch his small balsa model glider into the mountain air to give him his first taste of mountain flying. For myself it was an important part of my flying adventures several years ago with my paraglider, and gave me my first taste of the excitement and freedom while enjoying the beautiful landscape.

I was now using the power to continue climbing while gently pulling on the left control handle, which gave me a 360-degree panoramic view over Snowdonia. As I continued to circle the memories of the previous times spent in these mountains came flooding back and I reached for my camera and began to click away in an attempt to capture this fantastic moment. It was another one of those almost surreal moments to look at thin clouds skimming the mountains below me with nothing but my feet to obscure the impressive sight. I had gained sufficient height in my own personal quest to get the best view in North Wales and looked down on the rivers, waterfalls and steep footpaths.

I heard a call from Jon on the radio that he was going to head for the valley landing field and I said I would follow him as soon as I had taken some more photographs. Our glide to the plan B landing area in the valley was the best option because the strengthening head wind would make our return to the coast very difficult. Ten minutes later our more safer landing choice led to a revised plan C option because of the active and turbulent air, due to a growing number of thermals coupled with the ever increasing wind strength. The last thousand feet were a bouncy final descent that gave an interesting tussle all the way down to terra firma.

After packing away all our flying gear we reviewed our collection of flying pictures and video then walked to the local pub looking like a pair of eccentric adventurers carrying our portable flying machines along a quiet country road. Eric coming to pick us up was the finale to a perfect day, and we bombarded him with a detailed account of our incredible journey as we headed back to his cafe.

I returned home to tell the story of an amazing flight seeing castles, whirlpools and waterfalls in a land famous for its red dragon and mountains. This may seem like a medieval fantasy, but a powered paraglider flight in North Wales turned a dream into a reality.

Paul Haxby