Paragliding 103: HPAC Novice/P2 vs. Asymmetric Collapses

Asymmetric Collapse

The asymmetric collapse, an inevitability of learning to fly in thermic air. We learn to first mitigate and then prevent them by flying in increasingly active air, preferably under instruction.

Mitigation can come by way of active weight shift and braking technique. The ultimate goal is collision avoidance, be it with the ground, terrain, or other pilots.

Another means of mitigation is wing selection (passive safety). A lower EN/LTF rated wing can help reduce the aftermath of the collapse. An instructor is the best place to start with deciding which wing is best suited to the pilot. That said, the first steps we take as a pilot-in-command is making and accepting responsibility for own decisions. The more information the new pilot has, the better the decision they can make.

The basic certification system (EN/LTF) is not perfect, as per Divide 'EN', Conquer. But the certification system is continually evolving. Part of this evolution is the trial testing of wings by the DHV using a data logger and documenting the post collapse behaviour beyond a simple change of direction/pitch.

DHV Safety Class

The core of the DHV Safety Class is a trio of safety ratings per wing: symmetric collapse, asymmetric collapse, and spiral dive. In addition, notes are provided on altitude loss, G forces experienced, cravat and cascade tendencies. It is these notes that are of interest.

Below are the DHV Safety Class Notes on unaccelerated asymmetric collapses for common paragliders used in the Fraser Valley (Vancouver) for student and novice pilots:

The source for these values and notes can be found under the DHV Safety Test webpage.

In addition, the suitability for training and manufacturer notes regarding the target pilot are included to give a more complete picture. This data was pulled from the manufacturer webpage and user manuals.

Wing Made/Model	Height Loss	Pitch Angle	G Force	Training Suitable	DHV Notes	Manufacturer Notes
Skywalk Mescal 4	20 - 29 m	-60 degrees	2.4G	Yes	Massive collapses and maximum deformations usually recover with little diving and course change.	Suitable for beginners on the training hill, the MESCAL4 also offers lasting satisfaction for ambitious hobby pilots for their first XC flying experiences.
Icaro Cyber TE	30 - 39 m	-65 degrees	2.3G	Yes	Relative moderate reactions, moderate dynamics	Beginners who are looking for a fun, but performant and fast glider, that—nevertheless—still is gentle and easy to fly, will find a good companion in the new Cyber TE.
Ozone Mojo 4	40 - 49 m	-65 degrees	2.3G	Yes	Greater height loss and course change angles than other [...] gliders.	The Mojo 5 is designed for new pilots. First and foremost it is a safe, fun, and easy high-performance wing suitable for students in training but ideal for the newly qualified.

Wing Made/Model	Height Loss	Pitch Angle	G Force	Training Suitable	DHV Notes	Manufacturer Notes
Ozone Buzz Z4	30 - 39 m	-60 degrees	2.3G	N/A*	Moderate dynamics, height loss < 40m. Maximum collapses result in large pitch forward dives and occasional opposing collapses, but without course changes.	The Buzz Z4 is an ideal choice for pilots who fly approximately 30-50 hours per year [...] .
Skywalk Tequila 4	40 - 49 m	-75 degrees	2.9G	Yes	Difficult to collapse to measurement field limits. Marked rotation with dive angles of up to 75° for large collapses. Opposing collapses observed with occasional cravats and course changes.	The T4 is quite forgiving, making it the right choice for talented beginners.
Icaro Instinct TE	40 - 49 m	-75 degrees	2.9G	Yes	Without using special collapse techniques the wing collapses very steeply and has high rotation and pitching dynamics, resulting in opposing collapses and cravats on both wingtips.	Since it performs at a very high level, but is also very pleasant and well-behaving at the same time, the Instinct TE is the perfect glider for all pilots who want to feel comfortable in the air.
Icaro Wildcat TE	40 - 49 m	> -75 degrees	2.6G	No	Height loss is average for its class, but reactions are very dynamic, dive forward angles are severe and course changes are rapid. The canopy folds steeply, creating a lot of resistance and turns abruptly and dives forward steeply. Total height loss was average for the class. Generally the canopy shows a tendency to dive forward steeply which often leads to cascades and cravats.	Recommended flight experience: 20 - 30 flying hours per year.
Gin Atlas	50 - 59 m	-60 degrees	2.3G	N/A*	Relatively low dynamics (pitching, G-forces, sink velocity) for its class, but delayed recovery resulting in higher height and course changes. In some cases, recovery had to be aided with a little pilot input.	The Atlas is suitable for beginning to intermediate pilots.

* There is no clear indication regarding suitability (or lack there of) for training. Consult your instructor.

Side note: notice any differences between the DHV and Manufacturer Notes?

The HPAC Novice/P-2

The current Hang Gliding/Paragliding Association of Canada (HPAC) requirement to be awarded a Novice/P-2 rating includes the following prerequisites:

B. Prerequisites

• Paragliding P1 Beginner Rating
• Thermal Endorsement or the Coastal/Ridge Endorsement

 The Thermal Endorsement includes the following:

• Demonstrates proper directional control and correction of full (i.e. 50% of the wing span) asymmetric collapses.

Anyone flying in the Fraser Valley will receive their Novice/P-2 with the Thermal Endorsement (due the lack of a consistent Coastal/Ridge Soaring Site). 

Under the current HPAC requirements, the Novice/P-2 candidate who satisfies the Thermal Endorsement will have demonstrated the proper response to a 50% asymmetric collapse. 

Re-read the above descriptions of asymmetric collapse behaviour and ask which wing would you want to be on with less than 25 flights and asked to demonstrate the 'proper directional control and correction of full (i.e. 50% of wing span) asymmetric collapses'. Demonstrating a response means experiencing the collapse to then demonstrate the proper response.

I suspect if this requirement was fully enforced by HPAC, we would see very few students on EN B wings.

It is better to have a wing you can grow out of than one you need to grow into.

Small Victories (with a flying 'pitbull')

July First, a welcome mid week holiday.

Onto the West Coast Soaring Club Line group to pop a quick, 'Anyone flying Bridal?'

Andrei replies, "sometime after noon."

Car loaded and out the door. I will likely be sitting around for a few hours waiting for a ride to show, but as the investment adage goes, "Better a year early than a second late."

Sitting in the car at the Bridal LZ, AC running to stave off the increasing heat. It doesn't take long for a car bearing an older gent in a collared shirt to pull up. Josef, an occasional pilot here in the valley. 

Following him is a pickup with Chris and Shawn (the pilot from the Yukon who unofficially broke the Canadian PG distance record with a flight of 260 km). A little milling about occurs, hoping a ride shows up but no dice. Our quad of pilots piles into the pick up to make our way up to Lower Bridal.

Along the way Shawn recounts his adventures in Brazil, conversations with pilots planning to cross the Sierra Nevada range, and the Burning Man festival. Oh, and the general state of flying in the Yukon - the lone consistency lies in the lack of back to back flyable days.

Arrival on launch reveals some strange conditions. The west wind is completely absent and a pulse of NE cycles make their way through the trees just behind us. The outflow has yet to completely subside.

Time passes, the outflow ever...soooo....slowly decays.

Shawn kits up and I give him a hand layout the wing out, ribbing him with a "I just wanted to touch the highest performing PG wing in Canada.". It takes little time for a cycle to come through and Shawn is away and climbing out.

Chris is not far behind.

I watch their wings with a keen eye, looking for small sharp yaw and pitch movements indicative of rough conditions. Nada. Just smooth carves.

In the meantime, Andrei, Elena, Tyler and Kristi have arrived and hiking up with a family of 'launch tourists'.

Launch is about to get cozy. Go time.

Thirty minutes later Elena has set up above me and is starting to feel the afternoon heat. It is starting to roast out. A puff of a cycle comes through and Andrei points out, "Looks good." Not hard to tell he wants me to hustle so Elena can get away quickly. Wouldn't blame him in the least. Two sets back and the wing just drops. Not strong enough for a reverse. Switch to a forward. I hear the right tip thwack during the run but don't feel it.

Airborne.

Away from terrain and scan for traffic.

Clear.

The radio chirps to life, its Andrei...

"You have a small cravat on your left tip." Glance up, the trailing edge tip is caught in amongst a few C lines. One pump of left brake. No effect. Quickly grab and tug the stabilo. Clear.

It is situations like this where SIV training pays its dividend. One of the quirks of the sharknose on the Delta 2 is the tenacity of the cravats. Previously working through these makes for quick work in the real world.

Everything squared away, off to the mixing bowl we go. Except with the lack of wind, there is no mixing bowl today. Just a wide swath of gently rising 1.5 to 2.0 m/s air. Over Alan's Ridge and beyond. Approaching the next spine things spice up a bit and I start to bank into a carve. The rising air draws me towards the side of the mountain. I look down and east to see a road leading towards what I suspect is Upper Launch  A sudden chill to the air signals the end of the inversion.

Onwards to Elk!

Mind you, I am not entirely sure which peak Elk is, just that Elk is at the end of this ridge and that is where I am going.

So ...

Onwards to Elk!

The air begins to take on a sporty flavor with my first (and only) collapse of the day. I am near the lip of the ridge either in rotor or mixing thermals from both sides of the ridge. Not sure how much worse it will get, I decide to take a prudent path - push out front.

To find...

Sink, sink and, more sink. Rotor?

Oh well, return to the churn and backtrack to the bowl behind launch.

Several rivers of thermal crawl up the mountain to my right, beckoning the nose of the Carrera. One in particular causes the Carrera to go full on 'pit bull', the nose snapping right and charging in for the kill. My view immediately fills with tree covered hill side. Hard right to force the wing to do a three quarter turn to get back on heading. I make note of this spot to revisit at another time, today is not the day for tree top kicking climbs.

Back to the bowl to see Kristi climbing in a right hand turn. I blend in from outside and just behind but don't find much (1.5m/s) compared to the strength of the climbs closer to the ridge line (3.0 m/s).

Back west, again. This speaks volumes to my lack of patience.

I settle for a triangle route. Back down the ridge, out to the highway, back to lower.

The glide out to the highway initially has some decent chop (more hints of rotor?) but smooths out nicely. I am able to grab a drink from the Camelback and flip through some Podrunner mixes on the iPod+iHome mini speaker on the flight deck. Out in the valley, the west wind is picking up. There is a risk of being forced to back into the LZ if the wind climbs much more.

New plan: Play it safe, tag Lower, and set up to land.

The remainder is uneventful with landing coming up about 15 feet short of the cones. I watch other pilots work the ridge just downwind of launch, varying between standstill and crawl. I am sure the winds will die off as the sun sets. There are no regrets on my end for calling it a day early.

Just about to leave, I am paid a visit by a fellow flier who seemed quite content to stick around for a few minutes. Didn't have much to say, but then again ...

Those who do can't explain, those who don't can't understand.

Happy Sky Birthday* to me!

June 26, 1999.
Mile High Parachuting.
Jump 1.

A rather warm sunny Saturday in Arnprior, Ontario.

Nervous energy moves throughout a group of lads of varying origins, ages, and occupations.  They have congregated at this small airport with one goal in mind - to jump solo out of an airplane for the first time.

The skittish herd was greated by a trio of instructors ('Turtle', Eldon, and Cyr) and ushered into a classroom to learn a pair of mantas needed to complete a IAD (Instructor Assisted Deployment) jump. The first being the dynamic exit - "Have you got my pilot chute, left foot, left hand, right root, wingtip. Arch-thousand. Two-thousand. Three-thousand. Four-thousand. Check-thousand." The second being a cutaway and reserve deployment - "Look. Reach. Pull. Look. Reach. Pull.".

Throughout the morning of lessons we were prompted to repeat these mantras, louder and louder. Drilling home these distilled steps. Nail these, let gravity do its thing, and everything will be ok.

Following the classroom was the hands on training: chucking ourselves from the mockup of the Cessna C-182 onto a thick mat, learning the art of PLF, and the (soon to be dreaded) hanging harness...

We were walked through the process of identifying if a canopy could be landed, and if not, how to perform the physical actions that paired with the reserve deployment mantra. While hanging in a retired old skydiving harness, a picture of a canopy in some form of (non-)malfunction would be placed over  our head.  If judged to be a malfunction, we would be coached through the process of cutting away and deploying the reserve. Even if the canopy was land-able and we cut away, we were praised for making ultimately the right decision (if in doubt, cutaway).

After the first handful of passes, Cyr (a former Canadian Airborne Regiment NCM) took over. The tranquility of this sleepy country airport was shattered with a cacophony of yelling and shaking.

The first to fall victim went complete deer in headlights, plummeting to his virtual death.

Calm.

Repeat the cutaway process in a slow and controlled manner.

Success.

Set volume back to 10.

Success.

The seeds of stress inoculation are taking root.

My turn comes and goes like the others. One of mine was a good canopy chop due to line twists. When in doubt ...

Spring, 2002.
Skydive Chicago.
Jump 115.

Stoked after a successful dive out, chase and dock on a 4 way formation, I deploy typically high at 3500 feet.

Line twists during the opening. No big deal.

Then a turn and dive. I'm on my back and the wind noise cranks right back up. Big deal.

Back to that day with Cyr, instinct kicks in and I'm under a reserve.

Too this day, I credit the reserve pack job of the SDC rigger and the training at the hands of Cyr with saving my life. MileHigh drilled home the need to completely banish indecision and aggressively execute the needed corrective action in a stressful training environment. They had this in place before we ever set foot in the plane.

Today.
Vancouver.
A few hundred jumps more.

So what does this have to do with a paragliding blog?

I ask, how many paragliding schools (or national associations for that matter) require reserve training before high mountain flights?

I suspect you will quickly discover the same as I -> nada. Excuses abound.

Incidents occur - even during student training. Not having the foreknowledge to properly execute a reserve deployment greatly reduces the ability to respond.

Reserve training needs to be done in a recent, relevant, and realistic manner. At the very least that means a hanging harness with induced stress. Before feet leave the mountain.

It might save your life and enable you to share many of your own PG Sky Birthdays to come.

* Sky Birthday - a skydiving term for the day of your first solo jump. The day you were born a skydiver.

Take some Gin (Carrera), add some Apple, shake (Part 2).

...

not even packed up and the Atlas pulls up in the landing field. The query from the cab, 'heading back up?'

That is an affirmative, Ghostrider.

Back on top of the mountain and every one is milling about, not a wing in the air.

Curious.

A gust comes through rustling the trees and ... blowing downhill. Ah, so ka.

An hour later, having gotten my fill of jawboning with local and student alike I realize that we are starting to see marked lulls in the downhill flow of wind. There is going to be rotor at some point away from the hill, but the sound of the wind in the trees hints at peak speeds less than 20 kph. Definitely choppy, but manageable.

I recall a piece of advice from Chris over the summer regarding boundaries and a shrinking flight envelope. If we never test our comfort zone, the conditions within which we are willing to fly will continually shrink until even the tamest of conditions will be perceived to be beyond our ability. In other words, from time to time we have to be willing to go to where there be dragons.

Begin pre-launch montage.

And so the cycle begins of waiting for the elusive lull, hoping the mountain doesn't go completely katabatic before I can get away.

I feel the slightest hint of uphill wind, the flag at the bottom showing wind coming in, the sock beside me limp. Its enough and I am off.

3...2...1... cue 'Highway to the Rotor Zone'.

I drift rapidly to the left and turn quickly right 90 degrees to face into the wind coming over the ridge to the north. The aggregation of the wind being driven up and over that ridge line has me parked in its lee. I am not entirely sure how far this compression extends, so the thought of a straight downwind run leaves me iffy with the river in that line of flight. I feel my best chance is cross wind it and face west again. My active flying skills gets their first real test since France, with the wing rolling, yawing,  and pitching about in the turbulent churn. It is under these conditions I get a better sense of the pitch stability of the Carrera. On the Delta2 I would have my work cut out for me with the wing reacting to the gusts in a series of sharp pitching motions. The Carrera remained more or less overhead, freeing some mental effort from having to be hyper vigilant in trying to prevent a full frontal via an errant gust. The roll on the other hand demanded more attention, with one cross wind gust announcing itself with a rapid twacking of the fabric in the speed bag of the pod followed by my losing the left quarter or so of the wing.

A minute of riding the chop and I am in dead calm air. Jim had chimed in on the radio suggesting pushing further south towards the Riverside LZ as opposed to my drive west, pointing out that the wind would die off quickly as I move further downwind from the northern ridge. In retrospect, it would have provided an increased chance for success over my eventual route towards the Ranch LZ.

Lesson learned.

After the mountain tried its hand at shaking up a Gin/Apple martini I feel that one could sum the wing up as "feels like a 'C', recovers like a 'B'".

Divide 'EN', Conquer

Limitations

One of the lessons I learned while on my paragliding pilgrimage last summer was that the statement, "I fly an EN-B wing because it is safe." frequently heralds the presence of a pilot who is courting a tree landing. This is in part because the pilot places too much emphasis on the rating of the wing, not realizing the limitations of the current rating system.

The rating system evaluates the characteristics of wings, with the majority of attention given to departure from normal flight. Collapses, spins, stalls are all evaluated by a test pilot and the results recorded. The most benign of behaviours are awarded an 'A', while increasingly energetic ones can see awards of up to 'D' or 'F' (failure). The key points to take away from these tests are:

1. To minimize atmospheric variations across different tests, the tests are done in calm air over a lake. This in no way reflects the conditions in which we may find ourselves (thermic, gusting, lee, etc).
2. Collapses are human initiated by pulling on lines. Collapses in real life are initiated by the air at the wing. 
3. The tests are human performed and the results are human judged. While the testers try to remain as objective as possible, subtle variations in pilot behaviour and observation can unknowingly influence the results. The test pilots do their best, but they are human.
4. The most important (in my mind and the reason for this blog post), these tests try to measure the outcome of a departure from normal flight. There is no real comprehensive measurement of behaviour prior to departure.

Simply put, there are limitations to what the current wing rating system can accomplish. Once we have an understanding of these limitations, we can determine how best to use the system as is and improve upon it for our own needs.

The dividing line

The wing rating system looks almost exclusively at the behaviour of the wing as it departs normal flight. What is normal flight? Normal flight is a loaded, inflated wing directly overhead and under the control of the pilot. Anything that violates these criteria can be considered a departure.

A collapse is one example.

A stall is another.

A spiral may or may not be - the wing is inflated, loaded, and overhead - but is it under the control of the pilot? What may be a welcome experience for the acro pilot may be completely overwhelming for the inexperienced (highlighting the need for continuing education after attainment of first license, see 'Right Pilot'). So, it depends.

So while the rating system deals reasonably well with what happens during and after the dividing line, before it is a different story. The characteristics of the wing before it departs normal flight plays a significant role in how often it will. If the wing is too demanding for the pilot given the conditions, departures could be frequent and overwhelming, even if recovery is quick and without incident.  The rating system may include pilot notes pertaining to the wing, but given that the test is performed in calm air over a lake, it is unlikely to include much commentary on the handing of the wing in thermic conditions. It is this behaviour that needs a standardized, simple to understand method of reporting, much akin to the wing rating system already in place.

Suitability

To cut to the chase, I would suggest splitting Suitability from Passive Safety.

Suitability would be derived from manufacturer data, but we cannot use the data outright
.
Why?

The current situation of manufacturer ratings is hit and miss, some indicate the type of pilot, some indicate if the wing is not suitable for students, others indicate the number of air hours.

 If we could standardize the manufacturer suitability data, we can make something approaching an apples to apples comparison.  What we need is the target pilot and the air hours per season to remain current on the wing.

So, a wing could come with a pair of standardized ratings -> One from the testing facility for passive safety (the wing rating as it currently stands) and a second from the manufacturer, clearly indicating the target pilot and air hours recommended per year to fly the wing.

Perhaps: (target pilot)-(hours/year) + (passive safety). For example:

School-10 EN A, Leisure-30 LTF B, Advanced-80 EN B, Advanced-100 EN C, etc, etc.

The School-10 EN A would be suitable for a pilot under instruction, a solo pilot pilot flying over 10 hours per year, and has a passive safety rating of EN A.

The Leisure-30 LTF B would be suited for a solo pilot flying over 30 hours per year and does not want the workload of the traditional sport wings. A possible second wing candidate.

The Advanced-80 EN B is meant for an experienced XC pilot who flies often and can manage a demanding wing but may not want to post departure behaviour of EN C.

The Advanced-100 EN C. If you are considering this, I can only hope you know what you are doing by this point.

The point of all of this?

Ultimately, the point of this proposed combined rating system is to divorce us from the idea that passive safety and suitability are one in the same. When we realize that a wing rating does not always reflect the workload we may face in the air under that wing, we begin to see the limitations of the current system. From there we can research further, hopefully finding the right wing to then combine with right conditions and pilot.

Happy Hunting.