General “World Classics” Blurb:. A world classic flight should be long enough to involve extensive decision-making and solid piloting skills, but not require unusual conditions or extreme risk to fly. But most of all, a world classic flight is one that’s special every time it’s flown, whether for the first or 20th time that season.

Tourists often think of the Canadian Rockies as a frozen wasteland with more Grizzly bears than pilots, and there is some truth in that statement. But summer in Canada is a glorious season, with 18-hour days and reasonably reliable sunny conditions perfect for long-distance flying. Picture the Alps with less tourists, a lot fewer roads, bigger glaciers and the odd wild goat or grizzly roaming up high and you’ve got a basic idea of the terrain. The biggest feature in the Canadian Rockies is the Rocky Mountain Trench, a huge gash of a valley that runs more or less north-south for about 300km.

You really couldn't design a more perfect valley for flying--big west-facing glaciated peaks with lots of farm land in the valley bottom to make for simple landings. Golden, located about three hours west of Calgary, is the largest town in the Trench and the main flying site. Golden is a logging town slowly turning into a sports mecca, and the epicenter for free flight in western Canada. The main launch is on Mt. 7, named for the large snowy "7" on top of the peak that persists into July. A two-wheel drive road leads to launch, which while not Astroturfed is pretty friendly by North American standards. Launch is about 2000MSL, and the valley bottom at about 800MSL, so there's plenty of height to play with right off launch.

The dominant wind is Northwest, which is perfect for heading south down the west-facing side of the trench. Conditions are generally strong but reasonable with the exception of spring--spring flying at Golden can be an adventure, with an extreme lapse rate that can tax any pilot's skills. But things mellow out nicely for July and August--6m/s climbs are still common, but the edges are smoothed out a lot. The basic plan is generally the only the plan--launch, climb to base above Mt. 7, then head south along the west-facing range until you run out of daylight or energy. Flights have been done in other directions, but are deeper into the wilderness than most people want to fly.

In 1992 Chris Muller set a world declared goal and open distance record when he flew from Golden to Canal Flats, about 145km south of Golden. Perhaps the most surprising nature of flying cross-country at Golden is that there are no major breaks in the main west-facing ridge for the entire distance--if it's a good day and you have some decent thermal skills you fly over 140K with no major transitions to put you low. "Low" at Golden can be deceptive--base on a decent summer day tends to be around 3800M, so with the valley floor at 800M there's a lot of room to work with. If it's rough back in the 3000m peaks it's also possible to fly the valley, but many windy days end in absolutely stellar evening sessions--on one memorable evening flight Willi Muller launched around 6:30, turned south and landed 90K later without turning again. It's common to soar to dark, which is around 9:30 in mid-summer.

The first time I flew south off Mt. 7 was in 1994, at the Canadian Paragliding Nationals. I was a second-year pilot deep in the midst of a job-destroying paragliding obsession. I had never flown more than about 10K cross-country before, and my main flying strategy consisted of turning when the vario beeped. I'd heard that there was lift under the clouds, but never been close to base--I was quite concerned about getting sucked into one of the potentially evil monsters. Various more experienced pilots gave me advice on launch (the scene remains very laid-back), then I turned and was off. The air was big, but my wing and I were staying more or less in a normal position, and a few minutes after launching I was level with the "7" and still going up fast. A few minutes after that I way above the best of the Canadian Rockies and gliding north under a cloud, surely one of the very best experiences life has to offer.

The first ten K offer an easy glide, but all pilots have to choose whether to fly the "backbone" of the main range or the "ribs" out front, and there was no way I was going in deep (who knew where that stuff called "rotor" could be lurking…). I watched as more experienced pilots ran along the back range, but I stayed out front where the valley was always an easy glide below me. Each valley spine offered a strong thermal, and after two hours or so I was 20K down the range and happily turning in every beep, whether it was a "one" on the scale or far enough into the vario's dial to wrap it over, something I'd never had happen before. At around 30K I hooked into the strongest thermal of my brief paragliding career and figured out how to "grab" the air with one brake and ride it up like I'd just grabbed one of the chain chokers the loggers use to whip huge trees up the hill.

At 50K the main ridge splits into a lower front range and the daunting back range, but I was liking it out front and stayed there, still turning in every possible beep. I'd been in the air for five hours, but had no idea. At 70K the ranges join back together, and soon I was coring out in smooth evening lift over jagged peaks lit in the evening sun. I kept up my "racing" pace up for the next three hours, finally landing in Radium after almost ten hours in the air and 90K of flying. I was tired, sore, dehydrated and absolutely pumped. I blame that flight for the following dozen years of paragliding obsession.

The main danger on the now-classic 145KM flight to Canal Flats is the wind. The Rockies are windier in general than the Alps or other ranges, so pilots must take care to read the wind speed well as they fly. On many windier days it's still possible to fly 145K and never get above the ridge tops.

Over the years the "standard" long XC flight has increased to 145K to Canal Flats, where the flying gets a little more technical. The site record is now 246km down the main range (Chris Muller again), but the basic feelings of flying the Rocky Mountain Trench remain the same for me over ten years later. I've now flown all over the world , but absolutely nothing beats flying 145km to Canal Flats over the 3000M peaks and dense trees. Some pilots fear trees, but most who have gone into them under canopy regard them as a safety "feature" of the range. A few of the local loggers have even re-trained--for a reasonable fee they'll get your glider out of the trees if you have the bad luck to land in Canada's dense forest.