By Taff

"Ridetque sui ludibria trunci" (Lucan, ix, 14)

"And soaring mocks the broken frame below."

A good quote, as it is both profound and irrelevant.

Many of us, and I believe I speak as something of an expert in this field, have for many years bemoaned Soaring Australia's total lack of commitment to the noble "Art of Not Flying". It has clearly failed to recognise the vast majority of people who wish all the kudos of being a paraglider or hang glider pilot, without the inconvenience, or indeed risk, associated with actually leaving the ground.
So in order to address this incredible oversight, and at great personal expense and hardship, I have compiled this brief overview of the "Art of Not Flying". Donations in cash can be forwarded to me at the usual address. (For further copies and updates, please send a SAE. No cheques please.)

GETTING THE SITE RIGHT
I have so refined this technique that I am able to create the impression that I get to fly on more days of the year than anyone else in my club. I can do this without ever leaving the ground, or home even. Here are some techniques:
Say, for instance, a club member telephones you with the suggestion, "We're all off to Spring Hill today - fancy the trip?" Never reply, "Don't you think it's too westerly?" but instead say, "I'll try to get over to you but it may be too westerly."
This, if used right, creates the impression that not only do you know a more appropriate site than everyone else, but also that you may find it amusing to try to fly to Spring Hill from there. When you don't show up that day they will assume you flew to another location.
Another useful gambit is my "site derider". Wherever the club members decide to go, the following phrases, developed and tested by me over many years, may enable you not to:
For the club's favourite site, try, "No, no, you go ahead, think I've overused that one this year."
For the largest hill in the area, "Not for me thanks, I always feel I'm cheating, starting so high up."
When the wind is gusty, state, "You go have some fun, I can't be bothered when it's this sedate. I'm off crewing the yacht for good old Mike today." This, if used right, implies that anyone flying in such easy conditions must be hard up for airtime.
Faced by ideal weather and wind conditions, look up into the sky and in a loud voice state, "If we weren't in for a big blow it would be worth a shot, but..." Then walk straight to your car, give one long last look into the sky, shake your head and drive off very slowly. If done properly this leaves everyone wondering what exactly is wrong, and whether it really is worth the drive to the site. This is also known as my "Vague Unease Ploy".

WINNING THE JOURNEY
There are times when even the best ploys fail; you may find yourself faced by ideal conditions with your partner and kids away for the weekend, the garden looking immaculate, and keen friends offering to give you a lift to the hill. Don't panic. All is not lost. To counter this we have to look to "winning the journey". The first rule of winning the journey is: "Never be late." In fact, always be exceedingly early. Arrive at the other pilot's house at least two hours before you arranged to meet. This is particularly important if you are the one who was supposed to be picked up. This will create a "flurry" in the other pilot, which, if maintained, keeps him in a "one down" position for the rest of the day.
Having arrived at his house, be sure to politely refuse all offers of breakfast, cups of tea or slices of toast, but insist your host eats. On leaving the house, and uninvited of course, pick an apple from the fruit bowl and polish it vigorously on your T-shirt before eating it. This leaves the other pilot wondering about the hygiene of his kitchen and his qualities as a host, and also neatly starts to undermine the idea of flying today.
Your car should be adjusted to have squeaky brakes, slightly bald looking tires and a disturbing tendency to veer right in busy traffic. This, plus developing your skill in driving at great speeds down narrow country lanes, will leave even your club's bravest pilots unable to travel in a car for weeks, let alone fly.
The trouble with using this ploy too often is that pretty soon you will not be able to persuade the other pilot to journey to the hill in your car. However, you still need to take control of the journey.
Get the driver to stop in some remote hamlet and say you are going into the village shop to get "some baccy". Then do not emerge from the shop for at least half an hour. Return to the car with a large amount of food, none of which is for your companion, but do hand over a packet of extra strong mints, saying, "These may help."  This will leave the other pilot wondering whether he did have too much garlic bread the night before.
Apologise for the delay at the shop with the excuse, "Chap in the shop did the first ascent of 'Nightmare Route' on Boorooma rocks, in nailed boots!" Then tell the other pilot in great detail how, "Men were men in those days, they took real risks for the love of adventure and sport!"  thus giving the impression that flying is for pussies and you'd rather be off rock climbing in hobnails. Five kilometres down the road "remember" you left your wallet back at the shop.
If these gambits are not having the desired effect, then it's time to introduce the "Little Known Shortcut Ploy". Make sure, for each of your regular sites, you know a route guaranteed to add at least fourteen kilometres to the journey, and several interesting dents to the car.
When you get to the hill the other pilot will be in such a mixed state of anger, embarrassment and a feeling of being "got at" that he will not be in a fit frame of mind to fly. Or hopefully by then conditions will have blown out.

KNOW THINE ENEMY
If, however, all previous ploys fail and you find yourself on the hill, strong tactics are called for. It pays in this situation to know your enemy. Below are a few useful examples. (Further examples are available in my pamphlet, "Pilots and How to Bring Them Down", $15.00).

Gadget Man
Every club has one, the guy who has every device known to flying. To counter these fellows is easy - I can sell you a "little black box from Japan". (Price on application.) A simple device the size of a matchbox, it has one red and three green diodes mounted on a matt black case. All you have to do if your fellow pilot is a Gadget Man, is ask him nicely, "Would you mind taking this up for me? It's a little something I'm developing for the boys at Murayawa." Gadget Man will have no option but to take it up as (a) he likes to think he's at the forefront of development, and (b) he can't admit there's something he hasn't got. Automatically after five minutes in the air, the red light will flash rapidly and a low howl will come from inside the box. This will be enough to bring Gadget Man down to earth, as the only reason these guys have all the gadgets in the first place is due to their distrust of the elements and their ability to cope with them. On receiving it back, offer to give him the readings "once they get back to me from Osaka". Then look seriously at all the gadgets on his harness and in a low voice say, "They all give off microwaves, you know," and glance at his crotch. He'll be so worried he's sterilising himself, he'll not fly again that year.

Competitor
The man who wins all the cups in the club's annual competitions and possibly national ones as well. Fiercely arrogant or annoyingly humble, he is naturally one up. Several ploys have been developed against these pilots. When you meet these "regular winners" on the hill, gently prompt them into talking of their winning ways. Once they are in full flow, smile and nod encouragingly. Then, at the first lull in Competitor's speech, ask in a quiet voice, "What was your relationship with your father like?" Implying that your interest is not only clinically psychological in nature, but that he is a particularly screwed up specimen, and needs help.
Another tactic employed with this type is, after watching them take off and land in great style, walk over and ask, "When you take off do you feel the wind or do you ride with it? I mean, is it conscious or instinctive? I think I can see how you make it work for you, you're very natural." This is ideal for putting them off, as not only is it very confusing, it is also total drivel. Nine times out of ten the Competitor will blow his next take-off and probably end up upside-down in a bush.
Great effect has often been had by simply asking, "And what do you do to enjoy yourself?"

Club Lad
In each club there is a "lad". They will always turn up at the site with no food, money, cigarettes or even a glider. By sheer personality they will then borrow all the requirements for a good day out, and proceed to out-fly other members, especially those they have borrowed from. Difficult to counter due to their natural friendliness, good humour, charm and total lack of morality, they are a worthy foe. The following ploy is not yet fully developed, but is worth experimenting with. The gambit is to refuse to lend Club Lad your old glider, but to point him in the direction of a newly qualified greenhorn with a brand new canopy and shout, "Any chance of lad here borrowing your kite? He'll test it to destruction for you!" Then slap Club Lad on the back and walk away. Within minutes of him taking off, go over to Greenhorn and say, "Sorry about that, the chap had a rather disturbed childhood you know. We all try to help out, but be careful." Within a few weeks even Club Lad will be wondering (a) why everyone is giving him such sad looks, and (b) why no-one will turn their back on him.

Tree Huggers
Another ploy, which is useful to have up one's sleeve if you find yourself on the hill, is to use the countryside to your advantage. When out with a group of pilots, on reaching the site immediately get on all fours and scout out some insignificant beetle or bug. Then call a halt to the proceedings by declaring, "The people at CSIRO said I might find these here, we'd better tread carefully, if at all." Then, after chiding everyone for the way they laid their canopies out, where they walked, and where they dropped sandwich crumbs, sigh very loudly and say, "Well, I can't be part of this environmental vandalism in my position, now can I?" Then leave the site immediately.

I would welcome correspondence on any of the above matters. Any difficult problems you would like cleared will be given individual attention. (Please send the usual $20.00 donation to ensure prompt response.)