Sunday 20th September – The final attempt

Back down at sea level we were watching the weather; it looked good for summiting and flying on Sunday 20th September. That meant we would need to leave Saturday morning in order to make the attempt on Sunday. By Friday evening, the weather forecast was changing and Monday looked like the better day so we delayed leaving until Sunday morning.
Not only do you physically and practically have to prepare for a trip like this but mentally you have to get your head in gear for what you’re about to do as well. All the delays and uncertainty with the weather were difficult and frustrating and I was becoming very concerned that, with only a week left, I might not get my chance at the summit or indeed flying off. This season only one paraglider, a French guy, has actually flown from the summit of Mont Blanc.
Irwyn was reading the weather while I was looking at it with some confusion! You have to look at all kinds of charts and forecasts in order to make a decision about when is good to go. The weather is different at different altitudes and way up at 4,800m we needed light winds and a clear sky.
We were all ready for a 5am start on Sunday and the weather changed again. It was now looking good for Tuesday. That wasn’t a problem but the tramway closing on Sunday as the season was officially over was. There would be no more trams to Nid d’Aigle at 2,380m. We would have to get as high as we could by road and walk from there. The reality of this meant that the first day would be tougher and that we would be more tired for our second day and summit attempt.
We left on Sunday evening (20th September) and drove to Saint Gervais. Monday was going be such a long day we decided to drive out the night before and bivouac by the vehicle so that we could leave early in the morning. On the map from Saint Gervais there was a mountain road marked that looked like you could drive up to Belle Vue (1750m). This would be a good start point. Finding the road was tricky but we managed it. Getting up the road or rather the steep, winding, hideous, narrow track full of holes and trenches was quite a mission! I used up 99% of my nervous energy and was really quite exhausted after the 30 minute teeth gripping journey to Belle Vue.
It was a crazy late 9pm by the time we got there so out came the sleeping sacks (bivouac bags) and we made our beds for the night in a field.



At 7am the next morning, the stove was on and a cup of sugary tea was the incentive to get up. It had been a long night. I hadn’t slept well and I was nervous about the climb. We set off just after 8am. It was hot and we were in our plastic climbing boots but the load we were carrying was lighter as we weren’t taking our bivouac kit. As it was the end of the season the refugees were closed but they have a ‘winter room’ where there are blankets and gas which climbers can use so we planned to stay in the Gouter Hut winter room.
It took a few hours to get to the Nid d’Aigle our previous start point. We took a rest and I dressed my first blister. I was worried about my feet as blisters can literally stop you in your tacks so I did my best to treat and ignore them. We really took our time walking up to the hut it was a stunning day and as we climbed above the clouds the views were amazing. I was feeling confident, nervous, excited and worried all at the same time. Would this be it? This time tomorrow would I be flying down from the summit of Europe’s highest mountain?





The climb to the Gouter was just as awful as I’d remembered and, in fact, even worse. It had been snowing and overnight the temperature dropped to below freezing so the rocks we had to climb up were covered in snow and ice. We had to do the climb in our crampons.





I knew getting to the hut would take hours. At times like this I put myself into an almost trance and just keep going. Mostly I was thinking about food and being in a warm bed safely back down from the mountain. We finally reached the hut about 5pm. I was very pleased to be there knowing that this time we wouldn’t be going any higher and we spent the night here. It was going so well until we discovered that there was in fact no gas or stove provided in the winter room. Hmmm, no water and no food, this presented a slight worry to say the least. There were about 10 other climbers in the hut who were all male. I’m sure that me being a blonde female had nothing to do with the fact that the other climbing team (a group of Polish guys) gave us gas, water and chocolate! All jokes aside, they were incredibly kind and we were very grateful. We cooked our pasta, added the tomato sauce that we’d remembered to bring, made lots of tea and settled down for the night - well for a few hours as we were getting up at 2am!



It was better staying at a lower altitude and being inside. The weather was looking good and I was trying not to get too excited as after last time I knew only too well how quickly that can change. I didn’t sleep much but it didn’t matter as I was feeling fit and was eager to get going again.
We left the hut by 3.15am. It was cold, dark and yet again it had snowed so we had no tracks to follow. We didn’t know it at this point but on the other side of the mountain people were being turned back by guides as the avalanche risk after the snow fall was dangerously high. Ignorance is bliss! As we waded through the deep snow we heard a terrifying thud and knowing what it could mean (that an avalanche had just begun) we stopped dead and silently sweated for a few seconds. No avalanche but a warning that the snow was moving and we needed to be extremely careful about where we climbed.



We had a very slow pace and we wanted the few people who were climbing behind us to catch up as it would be nice to wait for daylight and to follow some tracks.
Just above 4,300m there is an emergency refuge hut and we decided to go in there for 10 minutes to try and sort out our water and eat some chocolate. The water we were carrying had frozen; it was lovely to be in the hut.





From this point on it got really steep but I knew that it was only another 500m or so to the top and the weather was still ok. The summit ridge goes on forever; it’s like walking along a knife edge – steep drops both sides with huge crevasses and unstable snow under foot. Mont Blanc is a tough mountain and I had underestimated it. I was scared, worried and I just hoped like mad like I wouldn’t have to walk back down!



As the summit got closer I knew that we were going to make it. I couldn’t get excited though because there was still the looming prospect of flying down. Obviously that was what I had intended to do. That was the grand finale of the journey and, if the wind was ok, of course I would go for it. However deep down I was totally petrified.



By 11am we had made it to the summit! It was an incredible feeling I was at the highest point in Europe. Cool!



The wind wasn’t looking good as it was blowing very strongly over the back from Italy. That meant there was no way we could take off in the direction of France where we wanted to fly. It also meant that there was no way we could take off at all.
We decided to wait. Maybe the wind would change direction. Maybe the wind would die down. Just maybe we would get our chance to fly from the top so we waited just below the summit out of the wind.



Irwyn was very pleased that he managed a successful toilet visit on top of the mountain. I was too cold and tired to be very amused although it seems much funnier sitting here writing this now!
Yet again good fortune seemed to be with us, the summit flag that was flying so ferociously in the strong wind dropped and the wind had calmed. Wasting no time we gathered ourselves, prepared our wings and made a quick plan. We would take off in the direction of Italy, as soon as it was safe we would swing a right, going around the side of Mt Blanc and head back into France. Turning right meant we needed enough height to get over the Dome Du Gouter, failing that, enough height to get over the col. Then we could fly safely down to our chosen landing spot. If we couldn’t do this the plan was to turn left, continue into Italy and fly safely down for a pizza or perhaps some pasta.





I didn’t breathe much as I lay my wing out and carried it to just below the summit of Mont Blanc. I could feel my heart thundering in my chest and I really was wondering why I put myself in these precarious situations! Irwyn was right beside me - his words were calming “Get the wing up and flying. Turn around and run like f**k!”
The wind dropped and it was time to go. I pulled my wing up, ran as fast as I could down the very steep mountain face I was standing on and then…………….. I was in the air. I’d done it! I had flown off Mont Blanc! I had really done it!




The air was not good. I was soon being thrown around in my harness, was absolutely stricken with fear and the thought that maybe this was not good weather to fly in after all. I looked back to see that Irwyn had taken off and was experiencing a similar turbulence; he was higher than me though. We both turned right. He made it over the Dome Du Gouter and I was heading towards the Col not sure if I was going to make it over. From where I was it looked like I could but in such rough air you can suddenly drop out of the sky and find yourself a lot lower than you had been seconds earlier. I could have turned at this point and gone for a pizza in Italy but I thought I’d go for it and headed towards the Col.



I made it. Thank God! Once over the Col it was the same story; hideous air. The rollercoaster continued. I headed for the landing field and looked around for Irwyn. As promised, he was doing his best to get down lower than me so that I could follow his path into land and he almost managed it.
Unfortunately our chosen landing spot was in direct sun light and was surrounded by thermal air so that every time we approached we simply flew higher! We had no choice but to find a new place to land. I followed Irwyn in the general direction of an overgrown field, dodged some power lines and set down with a thud. Yet again my crampons stabbed into the ground, stopping me dead and I landed with little style. However I was alive and well!!
Now I really had done it. I had ridden my motorbike with my paraglider on my back to the foot of Mont Blanc. I had climbed to the top of Europe’s highest mountain and I had flown down from the summit….. and most importantly, I had landed in one piece!



Without the support of Pidcock Motorcycles Long Eaton giving me the BMW GS F650 and Ozone giving me the Ultralight Mountain wing and Oxygen harness I would not have been able to even attempt this expedition. I am incredibly grateful to them both. The bike and the paraglider were brilliant.
I am especially grateful to Irwyn, my climbing and flying partner for this expedition. He has been wonderful. We have worked hard together to achieve something that has involved commitment, patience, team work, guts and a lot of effort. Irwyn is an amazing man. It has been a pleasure to climb and fly with someone as knowledgeable and experienced as him.

Saturday 12th September – Hmm, maybe mountains are quite dangerous after all…

It wasn’t long before the weather was looking good again. Having had two clear days of rest we set off to the mountain again, this time with a different plan. We decided to head up a different side of the mountain and instead of sleeping in a refuge we had our bivouac kit and would be sleeping out under the stars.
This trip began in Saint Gervais where we took the tramway up to the Nid d’Aigle at 2,380m (almost 1500m lower than where the cable car had dropped us last time). This meant a really hard first day climbing to our bivouac spot, which we decided would be somewhere above the Gouter refuge (where we would stop for a bowl of hot chocolate).



The tram was very civilised; it’s the highest rack and pinion train in France and travels up the steepest track. Work began on it in 1904 with the intention of building a terminus at the top of Mont Blanc!



Without the luxury of staying in the refuge we had the extra weight of our bivouac kit, stove and food. This meant carrying almost 15kgs more than last time. Not nice! At 2,380m there is no snow, the first 1000 vertical metres would mostly be a scree and rock scramble, ideal to do in trainers not so much fun wearing your plastic climbing boots. As we were keeping weight to a minimum though we didn’t have our trainers, it was plastic boots all the way.



A few hours in and roughly half way up to the Gouter refuge, just after crossing a glacier, the route got very steep. The final 800 vertical metres were not going to be easy. I was really surprised. I had no idea that it was going to be so steep and such a climb. It was literally vertical and you needed both hands and feet to get up the rock face. I was feeling quite venerable there was the obvious worry that this was steep and difficult - one foot misplaced and you were off the rock and added to this there was the danger of rock fall. We had our helmets on because huge rocks and boulders just come crashing down the face with no or little warning.



We reached the hut in just over five hours which was a very respectable time and we were both feeling great. We took an hour to rest and drink hot chocolate (I can’t tell you how good that was!) and then headed out to find our bivouac spot. We had intended to camp out just near the hut but as we were feeling so good we thought we’d climb a little higher. We were now walking in snow and it was getting dark. Roped together and wearing crampons we navigated our way around several crevasses and decided we should stop sooner rather than later. As it began to snow and get even darker we really needed to find a flat and safe place to camp. It was 9pm and 4,300m by the time we actually reached the next suitable place. It was minus 25’c but because we had been walking we hadn’t felt the cold, my hair was actually frozen!



Using our ice axes we dug a shallow hole to lay our bivouac bags in. Bivouac is a very simple concept and quite a groovy thing to do. You take a Thermarest or a mat, your sleeping bag, put them inside a bivouac bag and get in! It’s quite restricting and can feel a little bit claustrophobic but it keeps you warm and dry. I was getting cold so I was in my bag in record time.



Irwyn put the stove on and made a cup of tea accompanied by fruit cake; it was heavenly! We had pasta for dinner which would have been delicious had we not forgotten the pesto to go with it. I tried to be creative but with the choice of sauce being condensed milk, fruit cake or toothpaste there was little to be creative with. Plain pasta it was followed by chocolate and more tea!



It was now 11pm. I had come from sea-level that morning to 4,300m, had just had a huge intake of sugar and was outside in a restricting bag on snow and ice at -25’c of course I couldn’t sleep!
Irwyn had much the same problem and as we lay there, wide awake, looking at the bright stars in the clear sky we both knew that everything was looking good for a summit attempt and possibly, if the wind stayed light, we would make the flight from the top too. I was very quietly very excited.
I did get some sleep but accompanied by sleep apnea it wasn’t very pleasant. I kept waking up desperately gasping for air with my heart racing. One of the many joys of high altitude! It wasn’t a long night though. We were up at 3am making breakfast (more hot tea and waffle biscuits). The sky was still perfectly clear, there was no wind and it was looking perfect.



In the time it took for me to get out of my sleeping bag and put some extra clothes on, clouds appeared and suddenly the bright stars and clear sky were no more. This wasn’t good. However we knew that as quickly as the bad weather comes in it can go again.
We set off for the summit around 4am. It was dark and cold and there were no tracks as it had been snowing. In the distance behind us people were coming up from the hut. Having climbed 2000 vertical metres the day before, having had very little sleep outside at such high altitude and now trying to climb in bad weather I was beginning to feel the strain. We were on a steep face, the snow had settled and beneath it was hard ice. Roped together, with our crampons on and using our ice axes we were making good progress upwards until I slipped. As I fell down the mountain I didn’t panic. I was thinking “I’ve just fallen off, I need to arrest myself and stop” (this means digging my ice axe into the ice and stopping the fall). I managed to stop myself but unfortunately I also managed to pull Irwyn off too. He was on the other end of the rope so as I had fallen, even though Irwyn had had the presence of mind to stab his axe into the ice and wrap the rope around it, the force of my fall had pulled the axe out of the ground and also Irwyn off the mountain backwards. So even though I had stopped Irwyn falling past me at speed pulled me off again. It’s times like this I do believe that somebody is smiling down on me. As we both fell down towards a huge great crevasse below we both managed to stop ourselves.



The next few moments were quite surreal. I just lay face down in the snow, my ice axe dug into the ice, my heart racing, breathing quite rapidly and said to Irwyn “sorry about that!”.
He was amazing. He very calmly said, ”let’s wait a while until it gets lighter and then move on slowly”. By now the people behind us were catching up and the route was becoming clearer. There was no change in the weather though it was getting worse. Several teams were turning around abandoning their summit attempt and at 4,500m I’d had enough too. It was possible that we would make the summit but there was no way it was flyable. Sometimes on mountains the best thing to do is turn around. It’s often not easy when you’re so close to the top but Irwyn and I agreed that it was the safest thing to do and actually, all things considered, we’d done very well indeed and getting down safely was a priority. This was the second time I’ve turned back on a mountain from a summit attempt.



Going down was just as hard as going up; it was still very steep, we were still on snow and ice, there were still crevasses to navigate and the weather was still bad. I was less than impressed! As I stumbled towards the Gouter hut I was thinking “Why do I do this? I’m so tired and cold and I don’t want to put one foot in front of the other anymore, I want to be down off this mountain and in a warm shower. I’m not coming back up here.”





Arriving at the hut and getting a warm bowl of tea made me feel a lot happier though the thought of the climb down from the hut filled me with dread. Every cloud has a silver lining though! We were now 1000m lower, the weather was improving and it was looking like we could fly down from the hut. This was excellent news. Not only would I get another practice flight on snow at altitude, it would only take 25mins to get down instead of 5hrs. This was good but I was still terrified! As I laid my wing out on the edge of the mountain I was so desperate for this whole ordeal to be over. For now though I needed to focus. I had to launch my wing, fly down, land safely and then I could relax.
Thankfully I had a good take off. As I flew out over Chamonix and around the mountain in the direction of Saint Gervais I began to get worried about the landing.



It would be my second landing in crampons but in a place I had never landed before. I had hoped that Irwyn would get down before me and I could follow his landing path but it wasn’t to be. The Ozone Ultralight wing that I was on is wonderful especially at coming down; I would be landing first. As I came into land having assessed the conditions, like which direction to land in and all the other things to take into consideration (motorway, river, power lines), I was horrified that the air became very bumpy. At about 50ft above the ground the wind was in a totally different direction to the wind I had come flying down through. So despite thinking it would be a good landing I landed closer to the edge of the field than I had planned, at high speed, yet again stopping dead as my crampons hit the floor! However, I wasn’t on the motorway, in the river or attached to a power line and I was absolutely fine…. Phew.
Irwyn landed minutes after me and he had the same problem ; the change in direction of wind lower to the ground caught him out slightly as well, although he managed a more stylish landing!
It wasn’t until then that the reality of that day hit home. Hours earlier I’d fallen off the side of Mont Blanc and I’d pulled Irwyn off too. I could have killed myself. I could have killed Irwyn. It was a sobering few minutes.
Not wanting to dwell though, we laughed about it and decided that next time we wouldn’t camp at such a high altitude and we’d remember to bring sauce for the pasta.

Monday 7th September - Hikes, Flights and High Altitude Drama

The weather is a very crucial part of this trip. In order to climb Mt Blanc the weather must be reasonable. In order to climb and fly from the summit of Mt Blanc the weather must be perfect. Perfect means a clear day with very little wind that’s just enough to ruffle your hair but not enough to ruin your hair. Very little wind on the top of a high mountain is really unusual.
The weather was looking good as soon as I arrived which meant that I had to get used to my new paraglider and also get some high altitude walks in to acclimatise quickly. (Acclimatisation is the process by which my body must adapt to be able to cope with the change in altitude – Mt Blanc is 4,810m).
Although tired from the journey, I was up early the next morning to hike up to the take off point with my spangly new impressive paraglider, Ozone’s Ultralight mountain wing. In order to give you some perspective on just how light this paraglider is my other glider, an Ozone Buzz, plus the harness all fits into a massive rucksack, is difficult to carry and weighs just under 20kgs. This one fits into a small easy to carry rucksack that is also the harness and weighs less than 5kgs! The hike to take off wasn’t difficult - it was a delight.



I was feeling incredibly nervous about this first flight. Believe it or not I always get nervous before I fly but this time I had the added concern of flying on a wing I’d never used before and it had been a while since I’d last flown. First, I needed to prepare the wing.
Unpacking the wing was like unfolding a silk handkerchief. Everything about it was much more delicate than the robust Buzz wing I’m used to flying. The lines on the Ultralight are so thin they’re almost invisible and the riser system on the wing is much simpler. Having checked the lines and laid out my wing I put the harness on and prepared for take-off.



As I ran towards the edge of the mountain I was very aware that I was using a lot less force to get the wing off the ground and that it was fully inflated above my head with much less effort. My heart was racing and I was holding my breath, as I often do on takeoff, then suddenly….. I was air borne! It seems mad that actually being off the ground makes you feel more secure but once you’re in the air the sensation is like you’re being held firmly in the harness. The wing flew beautifully it was really easy to control. After flying for only a few minutes I was very happy and feeling like this wing was absolutely perfect for the challenge that lay ahead. I dropped into the landing field about 20 minutes after takeoff and was so chuffed to bits with this first flight that I decided to do another.



In order to incorporate a little altitude acclimatisation, I hiked up a vertical climb of 900m to a different take off point which took a couple of hours. It was a good work out and another good flight.
Irwyn, my climbing partner and my paragliding mentor, had been watching the weather like a hawk and it was looking good for the next morning so we decided that we would to go to Mt Blanc. We set off at 5am and arrived in Chamonix just in time for breakfast!
There are several ways to climb Mt Blanc and it normally takes 2 days. On the first day, most routes start by taking a cable car or a tram some way up the mountain and then it’s a hike to a camp spot or a refuge for the night. There are several refuges on Mt Blanc and you pay for an evening meal, breakfast and a bed. The second day starts early around 2am where you make for the summit with about 1000 vertical metres left to go.
The aim of our first trip to the mountain was not to summit but was instead to get some experience and learn more about the conditions and what might be expected. We wanted to climb quite high to acclimatise, to see what the route was like and to do a flight with that all important first snow take off at altitude.
As we took the cable car up to 3,800m, I was thinking “‘hmmm, this is easy, the cable car gets you most of the way” but it wasn’t so easy! You forget so quickly when you’re down at sea level how being at altitude affects your physical ability. There is half as much air up there and immediately your normal walking pace is slowed down hugely and everything you do requires so much more effort. It can also affect your mind, it can make you into a bit of a space cadet removing rational thought and normal thought process’ (that is, if you have them in the first place!).



The first part of the hike we did was downhill along an arret that was no wider than half a metre. There was no room for putting a foot wrong along here as the sheer drop down either side was thousands of feet. Irwyn and I were roped together, had our crampons on and were carrying our ice axes. This meant that if either one of us fell we had the rope support of the other and the option of a self arrest (stopping yourself falling or travelling) by using the ice axe. On the glacier, there are many crevasses and it’s very dangerous terrain to travel on the glacier’s can move and open at any given moment.



We hiked up to Mt Blanc du Tacuil at 4,200m where we had hoped that we could have flown from but the wind was blowing down the mountain which made take off impossible. So we hiked back to the refuge where we stayed that night. The refuge was at 3,600m and staying there overnight was really good for our acclimatisation plus it was luxury; A 3 course cooked meal, a bed and breakfast! By luxury I mean the fact that you’re indoors however, the sardine style bed arrangement next to lots of smelly, unwashed people isn’t that pleasant.



The next morning we got up at 5am and luckily the wind had changed and was now okay for taking off just above the refuge at the Aguile Du Midi at 3,600m. The wind was still fairly strong and I was pretty terrified given the conditions and my first snow take off. I was only half way through attaching myself to the harness when the wind caught my wing despite having it anchored it using my ice axe. The axe simply pinged through the air with the force of the lift from the wind. My wing was now free and was dragging me backwards off towards the edge off the mountain. I managed to regain control by throwing myself down on the wing and stopping it from travelling any further. I had only a moment to pull myself together as it was vital that I got this take off right as the wind window was changing by the minute. Not only was I on snow but it was also a steep take off. Falling wouldn’t have been pretty.



I’m delighted to report that I managed the take off! The flight was amazing whilst the landing was interesting. Landing in crampons is not something you normally do. Normally you hit the ground running… in crampons you hit the ground and stop dead!
I’ve learnt a lot over the past few days. Not only have I done my first high altitude take off on snow and now have good idea of the conditions on the mountain but, kit wise, I know exactly what to take next time and what to leave behind. For now it’s back to watching the weather and as soon as it looks like it will be good up high, we’ll go back to the mountain!

Friday 4th September - The Thought Behind the Thought……

I did my first sk season when and I was 18, I woke up every morning with a view of Mt Blanc and I would often look at it and say, ‘one day I’d love to climb that mountain’.

I got my motorbike licence a few years later with the ambition of riding a bike down to the South of France and to the Alps.

When I started paragliding four years ago I said, ‘wouldn’t it be cool to climb Mt Blanc and fly down from the top!’

I’m 28 now and it’s all coming together nicely because in the last few months I’ve been hatching a plan that would involve all these three elements. I have been working on a project to ride a motorbike from my home in Derby, England, with a paraglider in a rucksack on my back, down through the South of France to the foot of Mt Blanc. When I reach the mountain I then plan to climb it and fly down from the summit.

In order to make this all happen I needed some help; I was missing two crucial elements. A bike that was suitable for the journey and a paraglider light enough so that I would be able to carry it with me all the way to the summit.

I did get that help and I am incredibly grateful to Pidcock Motorcycles who have lent me a BMW GS F 650 and to Ozone, who have lent me a lightweight mountain wing and harness. Without their support and encouragement this trip simply wouldn’t be possible.

I worked out that I needed about a month to complete this task. I needed to give myself time to travel to the mountain, to complete some acclimatisation walks and to practice/get used to flying the new Ultralight Ozone wing. Most importantly though I needed to give myself the best possible chance of having the right weather window, as the perfect weather is crucial to summit the mountain and fly down in. I’m hoping that camping out near the mountain for this time will give me that opportunity (and a sun tan and a very nice time!).

The Journey to the Mountain

There’s nothing quite like a bit of stress and drama to get things going! I arrived at Pidcock’s to collect the bike at 9am last Friday (4^th September), by 10am, the postman had reversed into the bike and I had managed to drop my helmet! Luckily the damage wasn’t too bad. The bike just needed a new back light (unlike the post van which needed a whole new back door panel!) and the helmet had a cracked visor and was mended with a little gaffa tape.

Packing had commenced the day before. For the bike and me it was simple – leathers and paraglider. For Cosmo, the wonderful support vehicle driver, it was a little bit more complicated! The practical vehicle, a two seated, soft top sports car was to be loaded with all the gear for the month, including all my mountain climbing kit. It fitted in – just!

We hit the road after lunch time with a rough plan. To be at Dover to catch a 7pm ferry crossing to Bourlogne, to find somewhere to stay that night, then to take two days to reach Annecy, the ‘base camp’ for the trip.

Despite having it on good authority from the guys loading the vehicles onto the ferry that the sea was calm, it was an hour of high waves and rough water with the din of car alarms from below deck providing the soundtrack for the crossing.

We arrived to the shores of France at 9pm, to a full moon and a balmy evening. Although we had already covered 230 miles down through the UK, I was delighted to be in France and with this enthusiasm I wanted to keep going.

The route planning in Bourlogne had been a simple task; I looked at a map of France, decided that I didn’t want to use toll roads and plugged the destination into sat nav! Mileage wise, not using the tolls made little difference, it just added to the length of time the journey took. Scenery wise it would make all the difference.

As I rode down the long, straight, tree lined roads that night over rolling hills, through small French villages and towns; lit by the moonlight I was really, really excited to be on my way to the mountain that had captured my imagination 10 years ago.

We decided to spend the first night at an F1 hotel in Arras; cheap and right there when we were ready to stop but I wasn’t so impressed with the scratchy Brillo pad bed sheets. Having just travelled for 12 hours I would have expected to have a sore back and a John Wayne swagger. However, the paraglider on my back was like carrying a handbag and sitting on the bike was like a favourite arm chair. I had no aches or pains whatsoever!

Day two of the journey was more of the same. We covered another 250 miles, passed through some stunning places including a spectacular champagne house that looked like a fairytale castle in Chalons-en-Champagne. We came to an utterly gorgeous place called Chaumont where we had planned to stay. It seemed that everyone else also had the same plan as all the hotels were fully booked. So we plugged a nearby village into the sat nav and headed off in hope of finding a vacancy somewhere. Fortuitously a couple of kilometres down the road I needed to get fuel and right next to the petrol station was ‘Chalet Hotel’. It looked really sinister, but when greeted by a smiling tiny sausage dog and a vacancy we decided it was a good place to stay.

The next day was the final day of the journey and as I rode further South reaching the Rhone Alps the terrain and scenery began to change dramatically. We were reaching the mountains! We stopped by Lac du Vouglans for lunch, a spectacular manmade lake, it was very French - du pan, du vin, du boursin, except the du vin was du orange juice.

By 6.30pm we were in Annecy, 750 miles of road behind us, four tanks of fuel used and three days of great travel. The bike was amazing. I really was shocked at just how good it was. It’s quite an upright sitting position, but the small visor keeps the force of the wind off your body, the seat is very comfortable and because the fuel tank is under the seat the weight is low on the bike and it handles beautifully. It’s also a lovely colour – which is obviously really important too!

Now that I’m here and the journey is complete it’s time to get used to the new lightweight paraglider, get some acclimatisation walks in and have a really good look at the weather forecast.

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