Thermalling is the foundation of cross-country flying. Eager to become an independent cross-country pilot, I signed up for a thermal-flying course as soon as I received my DHV restricted licence. Just imagining the bird’s-eye view I was about to unlock sent a warm current of excitement through me…
November in Germany is cold, grey and changeable—hardly a time for thermal training. Across the Alps in Italy, though, lies a place every pilot dreams of: Bassano del Grappa. With excellent lift throughout the year, it is one of Europe’s great thermalling destinations, and the venue for my course. I’d heard its name so often. Finally getting to see it for myself made me very happy.
Bassano is in northern Italy, about a hundred kilometres northwest of Venice. Vast, flat plains spread to the south, meeting abruptly rising mountains at Bassano. Sea breezes from the Adriatic cross the plains around Venice, strike these slopes and rise, also producing useful ridge lift.
Image: Bassano’s location on Google Maps.
The DHV site database describes Bassano as follows:
“Bassano is the undisputed mecca of the paragliding and hang-gliding community in the Southern Alps. Pilots gather here especially in winter and early spring, so winter weekends can be busy. The thermals are worthwhile all year and allow cross-country flights early in the season. Despite the number of pilots, traffic spreads out along the slopes. Anyone flying cross-country will always find enough room…”
Image: Bassano terrain map from the DHV site database.
If you arrive by air, fly to Venice, then continue by car or public transport. Both were convenient and inexpensive in Italy: around fifty euros for a week’s car hire, or fourteen euros by public transport.
When cloudbase is high enough, you can fly cross-country over the memorial and look down on it.
To save money I booked an awkwardly timed flight, changing in Vienna for Venice, then continuing to Bassano by bus and train. Flights and accommodation booked, route planned and bags packed, I set off at four in the morning on 2 November.
Image: The thirteenth-century wooden Ponte Vecchio, one of the area’s best-known historic landmarks.
Image: The Sacrario memorial on Monte Grappa’s 1,776-metre summit commemorates Italian soldiers killed in the First World War.
Image: Düsseldorf railway station, deserted at four in the morning.
Image: My big baby and little baby—my two bags.
Ha, ha!
Image: Düsseldorf Airport was already bustling at 4:30 a.m. Apparently I wasn’t the only one carrying a load through the darkness in pursuit of a dream.
Image: Changing planes in Vienna for Venice.
My host warmly met me at Bassano station. We’d never met, but he recognised me immediately and greeted me like a friend. The funny thing was that only after chatting for ages did I realise he spoke neither German nor English, let alone Japanese or Chinese. How had our WhatsApp messages gone so smoothly? He spoke none of my languages, and I understood none of his. After all my travels, I’d never before had such a friendly conversation conducted entirely through gestures. Anyway, it worked out. An amusing experience—and proof, perhaps, that you don’t need all those languages when body language will do!
Image: Changing trains at Venezia Mestre for Bassano.
I’m cautious by nature and like to know what to expect. After checking in, I went to inspect the landing field on my own. Rain fell all the way there, and I began to worry about whether the next day’s training would go ahead.
Image: On the way to the landing field.
Image: Hotel Garden Relais is right beside the landing field. Very convenient, though the room prices are less appealing.
Image: Landing field No. 2, broad and level.
Image: Landing field No. 2 from above. The concentric circles mark the target; the usual holding area for losing height is about a hundred metres to its right.
There were two commonly used landing fields; No. 2, shown above, was the main one. Southerly winds usually called for a left-hand circuit, as did easterlies, westerlies, southwesterlies, southeasterlies and calm conditions. A right-hand circuit was used only with northerly, northwesterly or northeasterly winds. In practice, I found that a position slightly below and to the left of the red circle in the diagram was more sensible for losing height. It worked for either circuit, with the actual wind determining the direction of the approach. That was how everyone operated during our subsequent training, without problems.
A tip: “left-hand” means all circuit turns go left, including the holding circles used to lose height; “right-hand” means the reverse. The wind determines which direction is appropriate.
Image: Approach circuit for landing field No. 2.
The DHV database listed five launches and two landing fields. On site I also noticed new landing areas being planned. Here is a summary of the five launches:
Note: See the DHV site database for details:
https://www.dhv.de/db2/details.php?qi=glp_details&item=1551
I’d been up since three in the morning; by the time I finished the inspection it was evening, and I was starving. Unfortunately it was the weekend and the shops were closed. I finally found a little bar, but it served only drinks. So I had a beer to quiet my stomach and went back to rest. An early night, then meeting the group at eight tomorrow. Here’s hoping for good weather.
Early on 3 September, I shouldered my equipment and met the group at the landing field. As on every course, we began with introductions. The instructors explained the schedule, adjusted everyone’s equipment and introduced the techniques we would practise. Everything went smoothly, except for the heavy cloud and mist wrapped around the mountain, showing no sign of lifting.
Image: A local beer.
Instead of going up to fly that afternoon, we switched to theory. The two instructors gave lively presentations on cross-country racing and improving launch technique. Interesting and worth hearing.
Image: Bassano in cloud and mist.
Image: The assistant instructor explaining cross-country competition rules.
On inflation technique, Chris Geist—an influential DHV instructor, experienced test pilot and SIV and acro coach often heard at DHV events—recommended opening the arms outward and guiding the A risers upward along the shoulders to help the wing rise. He contrasted this with the arms-back, torso-low method still common in Japan and China. In steady wind, he said, that method helps lead the wing, but the low posture and arms behind make active corrections difficult if it becomes unstable. Yet when I trained with Mike Küng, he favoured the latter method as more dynamic, particularly for coastal soaring. Different teachers, different views. I think both are worth trying to find what suits you.
Image: Correcting mistakes in launch technique.
Image: Sharing what we learned that evening.
The second day was worse: heavy rain from morning to night. Spirits sank, though everyone who flies knows bad weather is part of the sport. We agreed to take free time. Better to go exploring than sit around waiting. Since we were here anyway, I rounded up a fellow student and we set off without much of a plan for a town I’d never heard of: Padua.
To our surprise, it was beautiful—and for a while the sun shone brilliantly. I made a short film about that day, The Sun of Padua, included in the video below, so I won’t say much more here. If you’re planning an Italian trip, look Padua up. It’s worth a visit.
Image: Sunshine in Padua.
Image: A street in Padua.
On the third day, the rain finally stopped.
But when we reached the top, mist covered the launch hill. On the way up we’d all thought cloudbase would rise within an hour. Surely we’d fly. Instead we met a very stubborn cloud. After several hours, we had to leave. Paragliding teaches patience too. Some things cannot—and must not—be rushed. Safety comes first.
Image: A characterful café in Padua, unmistakably Italian.
Image: Getting ready for the ride up.
If we couldn’t fly, why not go above the clouds? The instructor’s inspired suggestion lifted everyone’s spirits. We drove to the summit and found a beautiful sea of cloud.
Another day without flying ended. Then our patience was richly rewarded: the weather improved day by day. We added hike-and-fly outings and made real progress with thermalling. Figure-eight climbs along slopes, finding thermal sources, climbing to useful height, crossing valleys and connecting with lift on the far side—we practised it all. The instructors even led us on short cross-country flights. Some students completed a ten-kilometre FAI flat triangle on their first attempt.
Image: The launch swallowed by mist.
Image: A sea of cloud above Bassano.
Image: A windmill at the landing field.
Image: Heading out for hike and fly together.
Image: Eager to get airborne.
Image: This frog preparing to launch.
Image: The frog takes flight.
Image: A frog’s bird’s-eye view.
Image: At last, satisfied smiles all round.
Finally, here is the video of our course, in five parts:
Part 1: Setting Off; Part 2: The Sun of Padua; Part 3: A Sea of Clouds; Part 4: For That One Cloud; Part 5: Let’s Turn.
Enjoy!
Other information: Flying in Bassano requires a Flycard. Official sales points:
Image: Our farewell dinner.
1. Piazza Paradiso sales point
Address: No. 11, 31030 Semonzo di Borso del Grappa, TV. Opening hours: Monday–Friday, 09:30–12:00.
2. Flyhouse sales point at the Garden Relais landing area
Address: Via Caose 22, 31030 Semonzo di Borso del Grappa, TV. Open daily: winter 10:30–12:30, summer 09:00–12:00.
Transport: Regis +393315055888; Enrico +393405015469; Fausto +393471336169.
Local flying-school contact: Fabio Loro
+393292286839 · Club website:
www.aeroclubmontegrappa.it