I think XContest and other flight databases are generally a great thing. I say generally and not absolutely because they are the flying version of social media.
The good is obvious – they inspire all of us to fly more committing lines and beat our own personal bests. We get to watch in awe each season as the best pilots in the world break the perceived limits under plastic and string, and then there is a dynamic record of those flights for all of us to study and chase the next season.
In short – it’s helping push the sport; it’s a daily reminder to practise; and it deepens our collective understanding and ability. The bad is that these flight databases are an addictive, constant reminder that someone else is flying farther than you are.
When the season comes to a close it’s easy to get into a funk if some of your goals weren’t met. Personally, when I originally wrote this, I didn’t hit any of my goals. I’d spent the year still chasing my North American foot launch record set in 2013.
I flew a bunch of comps and blew every one of them. I missed a spot on the US Worlds team. I didn’t make the Paragliding World Cup Superfinal. I didn’t win our national XContest.
Even though I flew a personal best FAI triangle on a very special day during one of the worst seasons any of us can remember at home in Sun Valley my memory of this season is one of smoke-filled skies, too much wind, and missed opportunities.
I doubt I’m alone. Many pilots I know have high hopes as the season gets underway. They’ve worked hard to build up time and money to chase cloudbase. They’ve sorted out their gear, organised their SIV training, read the books, done the groundhandling, made the plans, written down the goals.
Whether it’s your first 50, 100, 150 or some new bivvy line or acro move we all create benchmarks. And then… it just doesn’t come together. The clichés that are supposed to make us feel better don’t quite do it. When we were filming 500 Miles to Nowhere Bill Belcourt said something I’ve repeated countless times: “…it’s not about the records, it’s about finding an aesthetic line to fly that is personally inspiring.”
And that’s where the true danger in a database like XContest lies. At the end of the season you are graded on the six best flights you flew. It’s all just a matter of points. But points are just numbers and our sport isn’t binary. You are not given a bonus because of the smiles you had with friends in the sky. You don’t get any digital fist-pumps for bombing out before the start of a race with your mates and laughing like hyenas at the swimming hole. No bonus for flying a ridiculously deep line that no one has ever flown.
The only recognition you get for nailing your first heli or first 100km flight or discovering a new launch is the feeling of joy that grabs hold of your heart, which if we could bottle would be pretty damn close to the feeling you had the first time you took flight. There is only one person who got to experience that crazy, crazy final glide at the end of the longest FAI I’ve ever flown, but one that was far short of any kind of record. And that person is me.
Every once in a while we all need a little bit more vitamin P(araglide). Take a moment and relive that time you dialled up to cloudbase and went on glide over the horizon. Write down, right now why this sport makes you smile and laugh. Take a look back and give yourself credit for what you DID achieve.
If you get to fly on that means you got to do what 99.9% of the world will never experience. In my book, you’re winning. That’s the best damn vitamin there is.
