First Flight at Peter's Mountain

by David Salmon
Peter's Mountain is part of a 60-mile ridge facing North Northwest in the south of West Virginia. There is a slot cut in the trees for a hang glider launch but I am told it is unsuitable for paragliders. Dwayne McCourt had visited a farm owned by David Cole Sr. and talked about paragliding three years earlier. David Cole Jr. offered to show us to the summit where he has a house at a spectacular location on top of the ridge. Burt Nunley drove Dwayne and me up the hill, following David's Jeep.

At the top we surveyed the scene. There was a nice clear area next to the house where a paraglider could be laid out. A band of trees 30 yards down the hill looked as if it might snag the feet of a departing pilot. The nearest landing field was over a mile away at a down elevation of 17 degrees. It was a brown field surrounded by tall trees, which we called the "Burnt Field". It may not be a satisfactory landing zone but at least it is a break from the endless trees. Beyond the burnt field, at a down elevation of 15 degrees, were open green fields around the house and farm buildings of Dave Cole Sr.

Periodically, turkey buzzards cruised along the ridge in weak lift. They favored a spine half a mile down the ridge to the left. We could not see it from our location but there is a golf course on top of the ridge there.

I was wearing sandals and realized I had left my boots in Dwayne's SUV at the bottom of the hill. Burt kindly leant me a pair of his boots and I squeezed them onto my feet.

David Cole Jr allowed us to cut some trees to make the launch safer. Dwayne produced a chain saw and cut a notch. With one last tall tree to fell, the chain jumped off the saw. I scrambled up the hill to ask for a wrench and returned with a large shifting wrench and some pliers. Too large, the wrench could only fit the chain-adjustment nuts with the handle at right angles. Neither Dwayne nor I could loosen the nuts. David came down to help and exhibited great hand and arm strength as he loosened both nuts. Once the chain was replaced, Dwayne soon brought the last tree down.

David Cole Jr. was impatient for some action, and I decided that I had watched the wind and the turkey buzzards long enough. I laid out my glider, waited for a good wind cycle, and took off. I was lifted up over the trees and out from the house. I turned left and moved tentatively towards the spine favored by the buzzards. The golf course above the spine invited a top landing but I was 100 ft too low to reach it. I was torn between moving directly to the spine where I might or might not find weak lift, and heading out over the trees to a landing spot over a mile away. Unfortunately, going to the spine meant crossing even more trees before reaching the landing zone. I chickened out and turned towards the burnt field. I did not encounter any strong sink and soon realized I could reach the farmhouse. I arrived about 400 ft over and searched for lift over a low ridge past the house. I found patches of light lift but could not sustain my height. I landed in a nice grass-covered field next to the house, observed by most of the Cole family.

Dwayne was to follow, but a slowly forming thunderstorm disturbed the light wind up the face of the ridge. While he waited for suitable wind, Dwayne joined David and some of his relatives in making music and partaking of liquid refreshment. As the storm developed, I watched the turkey buzzards flying over the small ridge behind the farmhouse. The trees were lashed by winds emanating from the storm, but the buzzards soared in smooth air just feet from the trees.

The storm continued, evening approached, and Burt and Dwayne drove down the hill.