Rooftops
The land here is carved and inverted, a negative of the soaring Alps. It sinks and rarely climbs. Instead of majestic peaks thrust from the ground toward the sky there are massive erosions leading to breathtaking views across valleys that surprise you from your perch on the plateau. And instead of having lunch in a valley before a climb up the mountain to launch you simply drive over to the edge of the cliff from town and look out into the untamed and wild lowlands at the bottom of each erosion. Roads wind along the last secure ground at the top of some of the most drastic, clinging to the sliding earth, inexorably giving ground in a millenia-long battle with gravity.
This day our fight against gravity goes well. From the rooftop of Africa we launch from rugged sites (feels like California) in switchy wind. The light thermals that regularly develop and rarely organise reward stillness and patience. Flatland flying here is mostly spent mostly over 3000 metres, launch at 2600. Slow rolling hills across the land around the town of Dejen projecting calm, a calm quickly broken by the contours of hills revealed in my descent and children stream from the village to meet me as I land.
The jewel in the crown we save for last. Lalibella, city of stone churches and peaks that rise above even the eroded plateau. I’ve come chasing my first 100km flight and this area doesn’t disappoint. Two days of high altitude flying sees us top out at 5800m+ and cruise around the valley for a 109km triangle, done with almost no turns after fighting through a tough inversion for the first hour. A sunset flyover of launch, catching a thermal from the same trigger I used five and a half hours before, soaring over the town perched on the edge of the world. Perfection.
The land here is rugged and tough and gorgeous and thrilling. The flying is remote and every launch immediately puts you in danger of a long walk out from the lowlands. But the chance of discovery and the untamed hidden behind each ridge offers something rare and unique, something that is at the centre of why I fly - a chance to learn something truly new, to see perspectives hidden from human eyes until now. The ooportunity for true exploration is vanishingly rare.
I’m not the first explorer here. My huge thanks to Niki Yotov who has been flying here for years, slowly laying the foundation for an incredible paragliding destination, and to Yassen Savov, an incredible pilot I am happy to be able to call both a mentor and a friend. I hit every goal I set for myself this trip and I couldn’t have done it without these two to guide (and retrieve!) me and the rest of the crew to fly with.
