Brighton to Saint Hilaire
by Paramotor (Michel Carnet & John Caston)

Day 1: Wednesday 21st September

John Caston and I had been discussing the idea of flying to the St Hilaire Festival by paramotor for some time and although it's a long way, there is no reason why it could not be done. At the 45kph trim speed of our gliders, in 10 hours one can cover 450kms, and so on. Of course good weather is essential and it looks like that's what we are just about to get, an anticyclone centred over eastern Europe for several days, ensuring settled light wind conditions, even if it looks like a light headwind.

We have done several ppg bivouac trips together and we know the routine: Come up with a mad plan, pray for good weather, get airborne if it's safe but be prepared to abort if the weather turns nasty. Our best trip to date was from Brighton to the Angel of the North and we only succeeded on our second attempt, having failed against strong headwinds the first time, when with Brian and Henry, we had to abandon the trip in Cromer.

We are up at 6am on our way to Devil's Dyke farm from where we are starting our trip, and Dave Smith arrives to see us on our way. We need to fly 20km to Newhaven to catch the 09:30 ferry, but the light wind is from the worst possible direction. We borrow an open trailer from the farm to quickly take our gear to the paragliding launch but the fog is beating us to it. Panic sets in and John starts speeding down the road, towing me and 2 machines on an open trailer in fog without lights, in search of a suitable field to launch. We soon find a field and we carry the gear over fences and along a few hundred yards. The wind keeps switching direction and the fog is forming everywhere on and off. By now we are in real trouble time wise, we are exhausted and we have very wet feet.

We carry the gear over one more fence into a muddy field and in desperation decide to launch up slope. John is first in the air but I fail my launch, and the next one and the next one.

Until now my ReAction had not let me down. What's going on? I suspect a tail wind and decide to launch the other way. This time it works and at last we are on our way. Full speed low over Brighton following the coast towards Newhaven.

The Transmanche ferry is there but we are very late. There is a suitable park about half a mile away and as soon as I touch down I gather my wing over my shoulder and run like mad to the ticket office. There is a railway crossing in the way and a train is coming costing us some precious minutes. As I get there I am told that we are too late and that the ship cannot be delayed. There is no way I was prepared to take no for an answer and I have to come up with some story of how Transmanche France has organised the French TV to see us launch in Dieppe and so on.

Eventually the Captain has the last word and, very intrigued, he allows us to walk straight into the car deck with our gear, with an invitation to meet him on the bridge later at sea. Result, but we are exhausted, sweaty and with very wet feet.

On arriving at Dieppe , we are pleased to find a gentle sea-breeze. We walk out of the ferry in between trucks and show our passports to the Douaniers who are quite happy to let us launch from the empty car park.

We were almost ready to go when the port manager said "non". We have to lug our gear outside the car park to a roundabout which should give us enough room to launch before the sea wall. As I try to launch several trucks arrive and slow down to watch the show. We need to launch soon before the gendarmes arrive and I aim between two lampposts, clipping one in the process, luckily without catching a line. John is airborne next and we can't believe we got away so easily.

After a few photos of the ferry-port we are on our way, direction Paris on a 150 degree bearing. The light crosswind sea breeze is light and is soon replaced by a 10km headwind. It is quite thermic and our altitude fluctuates at the mercy of the lift. There are lots of large forests, and crossing them requires lots of height into stronger headwind. My airspace map shows a small airfield in Etrepagny after 80km in France and once there, it looks deserted so we select a large stubble field near a petrol station for our first refuelling stop.

We are soon airborne again and the low light promises some spectacular scenery for the evening. We spot some paramotors and encounter the local school. We circle their field and press on towards Paris . It is soon getting dark and John thinks we should land soon for the night. We pick a small hilltop in the beautiful Vexin region, which should offer easy launch options for the next day.

The farmer is very welcoming and we decide to bivouac between straw bales. We are carrying good sleeping bags and decide to sleep on top of our folded wings. We are very tired and after sharing a couple of musli bars we are soon dreaming about paramotoring……

135km 03:20 airtime so far

Day 2 Thursday 22 nd September

Definitely dreaming about paramotoring, it was very intense: flying between trees, clipping lampposts, over-flying power lines, lack of power, muddy fields. Waking up was a relief, with the sun just about to appear above the horizon. Last night we could see the illuminated Eiffel Tower flashing in the distance but not this morning.

We have a beautiful slope to launch from but the wind is coming slightly from the back. Looks like we need to lug the gear to the back of the hill. Local builders allow us to refill our water bottles and to recharge my phone from their van.

The problem with the early hours on a nil wind day is that the wind can switch direction at the mercy of local temperature variations from different slopes or terrain. We end up having to carry our gear again back to the original slope for an easy launch.

I had planned to carry my sleeping bag and spare clothes inside the wing but faced with nil wind launches, I decide to carry all the gear attached to the harness. Lightweight towel inside the seat, bivouac bag under the seat, one enormous bum bag with spares, AA batteries, tools, lines, ties etc on me, a large map holder bag full of stuff I may want to access in the air such as cameras, gps, musli bars, water, lipseal, sunglasses, airmaps, etc.

The Bailey harness has two large neoprene side pockets that can be filled with glider inner bag, spare socks and pants, some engine oil etc.. The variometer is mounted onto the harness, so is the radio. The mobile phone is kept in my flying suit chest pocket for me to feel the vibrating alert of incoming texts.

We are off from our field of clover and after buzzing our builder friends, we are heading into the sun, climbing to negotiate a large forest that separates us from the Seine river. Today is the day we really need to make progress if we hope to arrive in St Hilaire tomorrow, but the GPS is already showing that the headwind is going to be an ongoing feature.

We cross the Seine and the motorway by the enormous Renault factory near Mantes-la-Jolie, lots of commuters. Paris is buried in low cloud but we can see the top of the sky scrappers of La Defense and the Eiffel tower. Our route is taking us as close to the Paris airspace as we can and we find the 1500' ceiling is a problem when over flying suburban towns, hills and forests. The Orly approach is busy and very intimidating as airliners appear to use every bit of their regulated airspace. They are approaching from our right so we better give way to them.

The Chevreuse valley to the west of Paris in the Yvelines county is stunning but we are on a mission and we are leaving it behind, flying at full speed. After only two hours, John is querying our next pit stop and I tell him we'll keep going for another hour at least. I have forgotten that we have flown an hour last night as well and that he must be running out of fuel soon. I tell him that there is a microlight field a bit further but that we may as well look for suitable petrol stations on the way.

I also suspect that John wants a pee. He carries two bottles, one with water and an empty one clearly labelled "PEE". The problem is that John needs reading glasses and cannot always find them in the air and I suspect his peeing bottle is not 100% reliable, even if he tested it successfully driving his tractor.

Our route crosses open country and we cannot find fuel. We eventually find the microlight strip but no one's in and the next airfield is a further 10km. John is on its last third of a litre and it is with relief that we find the gliding club of Buno, to the West of Nemours, after 85km.

VIP reception as several glider pilots are also paramotor pilots. One of them read about our trip on the French forum that morning and is driving to St Hilaire later on . They fill our tanks with some nice Avgas 100LL and feed us with some meat, chips and salad. Gliding clubs are by far the best places to stop at, they often have bunk houses and showers too.

The thermic conditions are now booming and we need to get moving so farewell it is. John launches easily up slope, soon followed by me spending some time taking nice pictures of this lovely place.

The headwind is still a problem and I try to fly very low to increase my ground speed but to no avail as thermic turbulence is greater and the wind down there is stronger. The very flat Essone county is familiar and I recognise the place where we had the French ppg Nationals in 2004 at Mondreville. A slight detour to visit the airfield but again, no one's around so we head for Montargis. Another familiar place as Dave Hairs and I flew there on our epic open xc task in the Worlds last month. There is an enormous forest to cross and we decide to circumnavigate it to the East. France is just one big forest!

The Yonne county to the west of Auxerre is beautiful with its undulating chessboard of brown, green and yellow fields. Eric from the French forum has arranged some fuel and a picnic for us at his microlight club further along the route so we are relaxed about the fuel situation and enjoy the scenery. Mobile phone texting is really useful for keeping the forums informed but also to receive info en route. I was hoping that some French pilots would try to catch us as we pass and join us for part of the way, but in the week, most of them must be at work.

40kph is a good speed to see France go by. It is a country that you normally cross by car in one day to go to the Alps or the Med but not this time. I want to see and understand middle-France. We arrive in an area clattered with nodding donkeys pumping oil out. I wonder whether our 4-stroke engines would work on crude oil.

For navigation we are using crap one-million road maps and printed internet airmaps with little ground features. The GPS is useful to show us a straight route that we know is clear of airspace. I spot a large buzzard ahead of me and at the same time John screams "jets" on the radio. The buzzard is indeed jet powered and performs a massive high Gs wingover, suited by his wing man who is probably shouting "putain de parapentes". My airmap is showing low flying practice corridors for jet fighters but not for another 50km.

After 3 hours I suspect that I have missed Eric's microlight field so we start to look for a petrol station. We are now approaching Clamecy in the Nievre county which is shown on my map as having an airfield. We spot a supermarket with fuel in a dip in the town but we settle instead for the airfield on a hilltop, landing there with John very low on fuel after 3:20 hours and 130km. There is no one there but a walker tells us where in town we can get fuel. We have to hurry as it is getting late and we fancy a bivouac in the picturesque but deserted Morvan region.

I call a taxi driver which agrees to meet us at the petrol station in half an hour and we jog down to town with our empty tanks. 18 litres of unleaded, 4 cans of Orangina and 2 Bounties later, the five-euro taxi takes us back to our machines to find once again, nil wind to launch. We take the time to eat and drink before attempting yet another difficult launch fully laden. John is off first, once again with a perfect technique. I follow him and I find myself running towards the hangars not sure which way to turn. I choose downwind with less obstacles and run like mad. It works!

The Morvan is stunning. Big hills, lots of trees, lots of animals but a very low population. There is a big lake ahead near Chateau-Chinon and I hope we can bivouac there and after an hour it is getting quite dark. I pick a good hilltop field and as I am about to switch my engine off, John warns me about the bull. We start to comb the area for a suitable landing, but more importantly, good launching field. We find another small hilltop but I can't work out the wind direction so I assume there is no wind and come in engine off on slow trims and make sure to flare at the right time. Very fast approach with all that fuel we are still carrying. John has an even faster landing but his undercarriage survives.

Within minutes, a pair of jet flighter planes fly past at 300' in the dark. Very scary indeed.

Only one hour and 40km but we have found a superb place to camp and we are looking forward to fly the Morvan tomorrow. We have nearly flown 10 hours and we are now more than half way, so as long as anti-cyclonic conditions prevail and our machines run well, we have a realistic chance to get there.

No straw bales for shelter so this time we position our machines 6'7" apart (John's height), span 3 lines between the cages and rest my ReAction over the lot, thus making a lovely tent. John's Action is folded to make a double bed and we end up with a very cosy igloo, heated by our engines.

I report to Dave Hairs who has been very kind to report on this forum as well as helping Eric to do the same on the French one.

The dark sky is amazing in the absence of any light pollution. We really are at the middle of nowhere and the milky way is so spectacular, we decide to lay outside our tent for a while counting shooting stars, satellites and sheep.

390 km 10 hours airtime so far.

Day 3 Friday 23rd September

Lovely night's sleep, still no wind but it is quite chilly out of my sleeping bag. Nothing like a quick jog around the field and a number two behind a tree to feel fully awake. The best piece of equipment one can carry on a bivouac is a pack of baby wipes: priceless! The local farmer arrives in his Landrover to welcome us to his field. He is impressed with our makeshift tent and although he saw us flying low last night, he could not find us in the dark. He offers to come back with some coffee so I give him my phone and lead to recharge in his car.

Quick pre-flight checks and engine maintenance, oil level, etc.. The farmer comes back with strong French café and even offers to top it with some local brandy. He shows us a detailed map of the Morvan and gives us lots of advice. Looks like we have the direct route over high tree covered hills or a slight detour by Autun with more landing options.

The light wind is now in the worse direction for the field so we decide to take off down the steepest slope to force some airspeed into our wings. John is first off and once again he launches first time. He has been teasing me about my ReAction being a bit of a pig to launch, although I have good excuses for all my failed inflations so far. I miss the next one too but the farmer helps me with the glider and on my second attempt, I get airborne.

John has been amazing so far. His naked weight is 93kg which is about 20kg more than mine and with a full fuel tank, emergency parachute etc, his all up weight must be 150kg including the wing. His wading bird legs do help him but his technique is obviously spot on.

As soon as we are airborne we realise we are in the lee of big hills and the air is very sinky and bumpy. We follow the lake towards Chateau-Chinon gaining as much height as possible. It is soon clear that we must use plan B, towards Autun. I decide to fly low in the valleys with a view to fly faster but I get rotored like hell and with a slower ground speed. It looks like we have to stay above the inversion to find smoother air and less wind. It is so much warmer up here and the view is great. We cross the Morvan, flying near Autun and Le Creusot, crossing forests, flying over big hills, enjoying the Burgundy scenery.

Time flies when you are having fun and John is starting to worry about fuel. We have been flying 02:15 hours plus an hour the previous night so we do need a pit stop.

After 90km we are approaching the small town of Saverney and we decide to land there although we cannot see a petrol station. Big mistake. We walk to a garage with our tanks but they can't help us. We try to call a taxi or itch hike but no luck. Having found out that there is a petrol station 12 km down the road, I give some of my fuel to John and we decide to fly to Cluny . Once again there is little wind and it's from the worse direction, down slope. I wait for a thermal cycle and get airborne and decide not to wait for John as I have very little fuel. Instead I decide to speed ahead and find the petrol station and relay directions to John.

Cluny is stunning with a magnificent abbey. I spot a small supermarket in town with a petrol station and a landable park by the river. No news of John so I run to the supermarket and buy some fresh food. It is lunchtime and you can only buy fuel with a French credit card. I wait for someone buying some unleaded 95 and give them some cash to fill my tank. John arrives eventually overhead and I give him directions to the landing field and to the pump. He had tremendous trouble launching with fickle wind and he is exhausted and dehydrated.

We return to our machines for a quick picnic, and soon we are ready to launch. There is a bit of a thermal breeze so launching should be easy. I miss my first inflation again but suddenly a gusty thermal allows me to reverse launch ok. John is struggling and after running across the whole field, has to abort before the fence. Painfully, he carries his gear back to the other end of the field in two trips. I kill time thermalling in tickover enjoying this beautiful town and its surroundings. Several TGV trains pass at high speed direction Macon , our next town.

Eventually John is airborne but he is really struggling to get some height. The local topography is a problem, the wind is funnelling through a gap and the air is going down the valley. We have to stick to the trees in the sunshine to get better air and very slowly we are getting out of our "hole".

Macon is visible in the distance. This is the Rhone Valley , a corridor between the Massif Central and the Alps , and the local winds can be fierce in that region. I have been dreading that bit but today we have the same moderate Southerly wind we have had all along. Very lucky.

We avoid Macon 's airfield and we head for the Alps , visible in the distance. From then on as we approach Lyon , we are flying low above the "Dombes", hundreds of small lakes, some of which have pink or purple water!

I receive a message from Eric that the gliding Club at Morestel, East of Lyon, is open and that they have fuel for us. My map shows Morestel near the Rhone river, next to a nuclear power station.

The plan was always to arrive today at St Hilaire but progress has been slow and it looks like we may get there at dusk if the next stop is quick. At last we cross the Rhone river.

As we circumnavigate the ugly power station, John worries about fuel as Morestel comes into view after 103km and 3.5 hours. The wind is across the narrow runway, up slope, promising to be a difficult launch. We decide to land in the best relaunch spot and a van appears to drive us and our tanks straight to the Avgas pump.

They know about the St Hilaire Festival and they are very helpful, understanding why we are rushing to get there before dark. We are 64km from our goal but we haven't got enough daylight to do it and John is trying to tell me to slow down and accept another night's bivouac.

After a frustrating day of nil wind launches, John decides to take off on fast trims, up slope. He soon realises his mistake and flicks his trims on slow, just getting airborne before the busy National road.

As soon as we are flying on full speed bar at only 35kph, I have to accept that we are not going to make it and arriving into high mountains in the dark is maybe not such a good idea. The nightmare scenario would be a change in the weather the next day and to fail so close to our goal. After texting Eric, I get reassurance of light wind for the next 24 hours.

So far we have been landing around 20:15 but tonight at 19:45 it is already dark. I suggest to John that we should land in this large field with sheep. He soon corrects me that they are in fact cows, hence the urgency to land in the poor visibility. We are approaching the small town of Les Abrets and as we have no food with us, it may be a good idea to land near a restaurant. I spot a grass field near the cemetery and fire brigade, next to a large stubble field. We still have lots of fuel so nil wind landings are very fast.

Only 30 minutes and 19km, but we are starving. We set up bivouac with our machines and wings against the cemetery wall and head for the town centre. Italian food it is and the fish is delicious. I ask the cook and several customers for help to recharge my phone but no luck. The only option is to wire all our radio batteries together to make a large 12v pack. Walking back to our bivouac we find several pieces of electric wires and within 45 minutes of DIY we are able to recharge our phones.

We are so close, less than 50km to go. What can go wrong now? We have big mountains to climb tomorrow and I can't wait for it. Very restless night, maybe we've eaten too much, maybe those mountains are very high..

614km 16:30 hours airtime so far.

Day 4 - Saturday 24 th September

Where are my baby wipes? I have definitely eaten too much last night and I have to attend to nature's call this morning. I like French cemeteries because they always have a water tap. I was going to refill our bottles when I notice a lot of activity at the fire station. I take my wet wing of a tent to their car park with a view to dry it on the tarmac. The Rouge Watch has just started work and they are having a French breakfast of café, croissant et cigarette. There are several pretty firewomen at the window and I risk asking them in an English accent whether we could use their showers. The station chief invites us in and we enjoy lovely hot powerful showers and a shave. They all know about Saint Hilaire and they are eager to see us launch from their pad.

The stubble field turns out to be rape and unusable. The grass field is very rough and wet but beggars can't be choosers. We lay the gliders on the street to keep them dry. A sycamore branch and some building site tape makes a perfect windsock, only to highlight how hopeless it is, with the light wind coming across the narrow field from behind the cemetery. We are surrounded by houses and trees so maybe I let John go first to see if it's possible. First inflation and John has to steer away from the trees thus stalling the wing. Second attempt gives a perfect inflation but John's legs are struggling running across the rough field. He gets airborne several times only to touch down again. The fire crew are shouting, some scared and some in stitches. John is ground skimming across the entire field and gambles a U-turn to head back towards the fire station. I clear the road and am about to stop the traffic when he eventually gains enough height to exit the field safely. Full applause from our friends, all waiting to see my own stunt. Fortunately my launch turns out to be uneventful and as I see the station chief removing our windsock I dive onto him at full speed scaring the merde out of him. A big thank you to les Pompiers des Abrets!

John is already en route slowly climbing toward the mighty mountains ahead. I soon catch him up as we approach the first "wall". Slow trims and full power to ascend this NW facing slope still in shade with katabatic sink. The Chartreuse, famous for its liqueur, runs from Grenoble to Chambery , with majestic sheer rock faces up to 7000', overlooking the Isere river. We are approaching it from the back over narrow tree covered valleys. John is struggling with its climb rate and it is becoming obvious that we are going to need sun facing ridges to help us. We are only a few km away from St Hilaire but this enormous rock is in the way. We deviate North towards Chambery to round this impossible obstacle. In the evening it would have been basking in sunshine and it would be easy. This morning however, the light Southerly wind and the shaded slopes are not helping.

I have been texting the organisers with a final ETA of 12:00, just when they normally open the Masquerade flying event. We are so close and to suffer a mechanical problem now would be so cruel. We aim for the last pass into the Isere and from 5,500' the view is unbelievable: We are in the Alps , we don't need engine anymore! The imposing cloudless Mont Blanc is there in front of us beyond Alberville, Chambery to our left and the massive valley towards Grenoble to our right.

As we soar the big rock faces, our shadows are racing us. Soon we are meeting free flying traffic, probably having launched early from the Dent de Crolles and taking advantage of the SE facing cliffs that have been in the sun from first light.

Our 20km detour is worth it just for the outstanding scenery. A local paragliding school asks us not to use their radio frequency so we stop singing at once.

Eventually, here it is in front of us, the Plateau des Petites Roches, with the small village of Saint Hilaire , perched on the edge of a 2000' cliff. The big white marquees filled with trade stands, fields converted into giant car parks, hundreds of flags and banners, and an enormous crowd gathered around the launch point where the Masquerade flying is starting.

It is hard to express the emotion felt as we over-fly our goal but I can only say it is priceless.It is during a visit to the 1979 Hang Gliding Worlds that I first discovered this place and I have returned many times since for the annual Coupe Icare.

http://www.coupe-icare.org/GB_home.html

John and I end up doing a formation flight in front of the crowd before landing back in the official paramotor field where the press and friends are waiting. The loudspeakers are informing the crowd of our trip but with our ear defenders we cannot hear a word of it.

In a way it is sad to have arrived because this spells the end of our adventure, but then again, we are looking forward to a weekend of aerial spectacle and to meeting many friends.

I land first and poor John lands 100 metres away and has to walk back for the photographers to seize the moment. They make us stand there a while with our heavy machines on our back.So, after 18.5 hours, 674km and 104 litres of fuel between us, we can relax. 2.8 litres per hour averaged between us. 36kph average speed, but remembering that some time is spent waiting for the other one to launch. I will study the GPS log and work out the actual average speed once moving.

Until the day before we set off, John hadn't decided which of his machines he should use: 4-stroke or JPX. A dilemma for him, having to choose between amazing economy for longer flights or sheer power to launch anywhere. Although I think he took the right decision, John was very brave to go for the under-power option and his technique and determination proved to be second to none.

We need to talk about our sponsors:

Bailey Aviation. The only 4-stroke paramotor in the world. No oil mixing. Takes aviation fuel or cheap supermarket 95. Much quieter for both pilot and neighbours. It may be the obvious machine for such long trips, but I can't think of any better paramotor for fun flying too. We carried a few spares consisting of a spark plug, an HT lead and a coil, none of which had to be used. The only maintenance needed is to check the oil level. Thank you Paul!

http://www.baileyaviation.com

Dudek. I like the ReAction and I am pleased to have switched to the large one (29). John is hoping to try the size 31 soon, which should suit him much better. Amidst the Dudek vs Paramania débacle, one thing is sure, we flew all the way to the Alps WITHOUT holding the brakes. This says it all. Both the Action and the ReAction are fantastic wings.

http://www.dudek.com.pl/eng/dudek.php

Many thanks to Dave Hairs and Eric Pelletier for their live reports to forums, to Dave Smith for seeing us on our way from Brighton and to Paul Hallatt for bringing our machines back to England .

Michel Carnet