Ein ganzer Schwarm.

How I met Kai

There are certainly people who have been out and about with Kai far, far more than I have. But my story under a wing starts with him.

I met Kai in July 2024 in my combined course on the Wasserkuppe. That’s where I made my first attempts on a paraglider. That’s a good two years ago now. It feels much longer.

What he taught me

Already in the combined course, Kai showed me how finely you can work with the brake lines. And in theory he shared incredibly valuable things: about weather, about flight manoeuvres, about handling and about the whole system.

A few weeks later I saw him in his element for the first time in Hvide Sande. Until then I thought you had to yank the wing around to somehow get airborne and somehow land. With Kai I learned that with wind you can play an incredible amount with this wing. Wind is nothing bad. It takes a lot of work off your hands. If you stay calm.

The whole technique basically boils down to: do less. Do it slower. Be calmer. And when in doubt: let go.

And Kai said one more thing right from the start: give your wing a name. So you have something specific you can talk to. That comes really easily to me. Whether I address it by name in my head or actually tell it out loud what to do. At the beginning that was hugely valuable. Today I feel like I’m going out with a mate to fly, to handle, to have fun. Maybe not everyone needs that. But it works surprisingly well.

What I can rely on

When Kai is with you, he is with you 100 percent. Whether he’s standing next to you or guiding you over the radio: if you listen to him, it goes well. And if you do end up doing something that isn’t so good, he’s there. He has always rescued me. On the radio, mentally, physically.

That has given me an incredible amount of backing and confidence. Even in moments that weren’t so nice and where he wasn’t there. I could always get in touch with him, and he stood by me with advice, action and kind words. Thank you, Kai.

Since then I’ve been to Hvide Sande with him four times, to Wijk aan Zee twice and to Lanzarote seven times. The eighth time is just around the corner. Kai got me to where I am today. He had confidence in me long before I did myself. I just had to catch up.

Where I stand today

I’m allowed to get braver still. I’m allowed to trust myself even more. Kai already trusts me an incredible amount.

In the summer in Hvide Sande I hung under a Parakite for the first time, the Moustache 2 from Flare. Kai has the Moustache with him in the group. When he sees that it suits someone and he or she feels like trying it, he gives a briefing and trains them. And Patrick and I now own our first Moustache too. It’s still looking for a name.

Much of the fear and panic is gone. There’s still a lot of respect, and that’s completely fine and valuable. But there’s far more joy, desire and trust. Keep trying things out and learning. Face situations. And fly with a group at a spot instead of pottering about somewhere on my own. That’s the point where I am right now.

When my feet leave the ground, I’m happy. It’s actually always been that way. My gaze has always gone upwards – and only rarely downwards.

After a few years of powered flying abroad, in summer 2022 it was time for something new. Kai showed me how to fly the “plastic bag” – and with that a whole new world opened up for me.

As an adopted Hamburger, the mountains are far away, but the dunes are all the closer. So nothing was more obvious than driving to Denmark to Kai for my next flying trip. What happened there in the first two days was to change my enthusiasm for flying for good.

I discovered the Danish coastline in a completely new way: at first not from the air, but from the ground, while my 26 m² wing dragged me across the sand. Between dunes, wind and sea it quickly became clear that this kind of flying would never let me go again. Since then I’ve been the “Flying Terrier” – and the bunker was promptly christened “Mo’s Bunker”.

Above all, I have been hopelessly hooked on soaring since that first trip. The possibility of being carried by the wind, flying along the coast and staying in the air seemingly endlessly fascinates me. Since then I’ve been in Denmark and on Lanzarote every season – and of course I was there for the first Wales trip too.

In between, I still keep being drawn to the mountains. Whether coast, dune or mountain: in the end, all that counts is the moment your feet leave the ground.

The main thing is to get into the air.

And of course: a Parakite has long been on my wish list.

Ich bin nach einigen Jahren als Motorflieger durch einen guten Freund zum Gleitschirm gekommen - mir gefiel von Anfang an das Gefühl näher am Element "Luft" zu sein und weniger Komplexität beim "Gerät" aufbringen zu müssen.

Meine Lizenz habe ich 2018 gemacht, richtig ins "Fliegen" gekommen bin ich aber erst 2023 als ich Kai kennengelernt und mich intensiver mit mir und meinem Verhältnis zum Schirm auseinandergesetzt habe. Seitdem bin gefühlt fast alle 14 Tage irgendwo in der Luft und jeden Winter einige Male auf Lanzarote.

Ich glaube fest daran, dass der Gleitschirm nicht nur Sportgerät sondern auch Therapie-Instrument ist - kein Sportgerät das ich vorher kennengelernt habe zwingt Dich so kompromisslos im "Hier und jetzt" zu sein und Dich ehrlich mit Deinen Emotionen auseinanderzusetzen. Bist Du bspw. gestresst wirkt sich das direkt auf Deinen Umgang mit dem Schirm und seine Reaktionen aus - hast Du zu viel Leistunganspruch wirkt sich das ebenfalls aus. Genau das durfte ich sehr schmerzhaft an den Pechos lernen - wer mehr will als die eigene Verfassung, die Umstände, das Gerät oder das Wetter hergibt kriegt auf die Nase - akzeptieren & mitgehen drängt sich hier förmlich auf, wenn man es denn zulässt.

Das spannende - vieles was oberflächlich am Gleitschirm gilt lässt sich in das Privat- und Arbeitsleben mitnehmen und auch dort anwenden - mich hat der Gleitschirm resilienter gemacht und mir einen ganzen Schwarm echter Freunde geschenkt.

Für mich besteht Fliegen aus 100% im Moment sein, ehrlich mit sich umzugehen und den Schirm zu fühlen - wenn man sich das einmal erarbeitet hat, dann ist es das schönste Hobby der Welt. Dieses Gefühl versuche ich wo es mir möglich ist vorzuleben und weiterzugeben.

Danke Kai, dass Du mich bis heute auf der Reise begleitest!

How it began

In 2024, after 21 years of paragliding, I drove to Denmark for the first time. I had no idea about dune flying or the locations. So I turned off at the first campsite I came across to check out the lay of the land. And straight away a pilot crossed my path and said: “We’re a group here, with Kai, a course, and anyway, it’s really lovely, come along: we’re meeting for a sundowner on the dune.” Ooookay – sounds good.

So straight up onto the dune with them: everyone was standing there with a drink in hand, gazing contentedly out to sea. And that in the very finest wind. What? Me: “Why isn’t anyone flying?” Whereupon everyone in unison: “Go and fly!!!”

So back I went, fetched my wing, and then soared alone in the sunset. Over the heads of the other “gulls”. A fantastic experience.

Bit by bit I got to know the gull colony, until at some point Kai turned up too and explained to me how things work here: how the group supports each other, how beginners always have an experienced helper gull with them and how everyone learns with and from each other. And that is how the adoption came about.

Adoption? Yes, exactly. … But answering this ornithological question needs a heading of its own.

The adoption

Among gulls (herring gulls in particular), genuine adoptions happen surprisingly often. When chicks run away from their own nest or lose their parents, they often end up in other nests. Larger gull pairs frequently adopt these strange chicks and raise them as their own, provided the chicks have already reached a certain minimum age and beg loudly for food.

Well – looks like I ran into the right nest by chance. And I’m very grateful that chance led me to exactly these wonderful gulls. And that is how I became a helper gull.

About me

Paraglider pilot since 2003. No XC, no competition, no lemming, no urge to perform. I’m a very deliberate leisure pilot, I stand by my seat harness, and I love groundhandling and soaring just as much as thermal flying and freestyle manoeuvres.

I’m happy about every little thing I still get to learn. Even after 23 years you haven’t seen everything and can stay teachable. The wings keep evolving, and flying and handling technique change with the ongoing development. And so every now and then you get to improve your own habits – or sometimes even have to change them radically (Parakite).

Dune flying impresses me so much that I regularly travel to Dunemark. Of course also to meet the other gulls again. These days I also fly Parakite and tandem at the dune – and I’m always ready to help new chicks find a nest.

And because wings need names

• Leeloo: “Face” after Lieutenant Templeton “Face” (Face Man) Peck
• Moustache: “Murdock” after Captain H.M. “Howling Mad” Murdock
• Carrera: “Hannibal” after Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith
• JOIN’T: “B.A.” after Sergeant Bosco Albert “B.A.” (Bad Attitude) Baracus

In that spirit: “I love it when a plan comes together.”