Paramotor Vol Bivouac – Paris to Basse-Ham
Franck Simonnet vol bivouacs with the minimum of help, and shows us that paramotor adventure can exist on your own doorstep.
Last June, the biggest world paramotor meeting took place at Basse-Ham, France. I participated in the event in my own way with a vol bivouac from my home near Paris, to Basse-Ham. More important than the flight itself was the way I did it. I chose to have no assistance and had two simple rules: 1) Take off late to have only one night camping; 2) When landing, only ask for petrol. The following is a flashback on the preparation and the trip.
I fly with a Fresh Breeze Simonini and an ITV Dakota Sport. There are more economical motors and faster wings available, I know, but all of them fly and that’s good enough for me! I made a few modifications: a fifteen litre tank to replace the original ten litre one, and I hooked my backpack to one side of the harness (with the rescue on the other side) to create a well-balanced machine.
Backpack hook on the side of the harness
My goal was to be autonomous, so I filled my backpack with food (one dinner and one breakfast), two stroke motor oil, money, insurance and license papers, maps, sleeping bag, book, MP3 player, pen and notebook. Eventually, a digital camera and two lenses make the backpack about 1.5 kilograms, heavier than normal, but I’m an aerial photography lover. Some items, like the book, are not essential but I wanted to be prepared for a longer trip and the possibility of an emergency landing. If it became too windy, I was ready to stop and have a good read while waiting for the weather to improve.
Items to bring for the vol bivouac, clockwise: a light tent, the backpack, two stroke motor oil and wipe, money, license, insurance, digital camera lens and memory card, aeronautical and topographic maps, food and bottle of water, book, mp3 player, notebook and pen, sleeping bag
The Paris – Basse Ham vol bivouac was my test flight, to see how well it worked to be self sufficient, have no assistance and only stop for refuelling. I’m not a fan of electronic devices, and doubted that I’d need them: A mobile phone? I never have one. A GPS? I never fly with one. I take 2 maps for navigation – an aeronautical map which locates CTR and military zones in order to respect airspace rules, and a topographic map. At the scale of 1:250,000, you have all the names of towns and all the roads and tracks are drawn.
After checking the latest weather forecast, I’m ready to take off from a tiny private airfield east of Paris at 5 p.m. The shape of the cumulus clouds indicate a west wind, a perfect tailwind. I’ve never had such a heavy paramotor on my back before. With a light breeze helping me, I’m happy to escape the ground. First, I follow the Petit Morin River valley. The thermals decrease, but I’m going straight east to Montmirail. The castle is worth a look, so I circle above the city. After seeing the vineyards which produce the famous Champagne, the scenery opens up into wide agriculture landscapes. South of Châlons-sur-Marne, I skip an airfield I could use for the first stop of the trip. I believe I can reach the next airfield with the petrol I have. It’s when you have to land at an unknown place to find petrol that the real adventure begins…
Refuelling is the key to a successful paramotor vol bivouac
I change my route to a city where I think I should find a petrol station. But I’m running on vapour and I must land before I reach the city. I carefully look for power lines and fences before landing in a field in the middle of a village. The first farmer I meet says to his wife, “You will never believe what landed in our field!” Neighbours are coming to talk to me while I buy 3 litres of petrol (the farm petrol station didn’t have any more!) and add the oil to the tank, shaking the paramotor furiously to get a proper mix. I’m ready to return to the sky so I walk outside the village. The friendly people of the village, however, want to see me take off. The farmer I first met says to me, “Don’t worry – take off where you landed. There’s only my cat, Napoleon, who will be afraid”.
Feeling reassured, I return to the field where I landed and take off as the many faces of the villagers watch me return to the sky. Fifteen minutes later, I’m at Bar-le-Duc airfield. Unbelievably, there is no petrol and I must wait until the next morning to go to the nearby petrol station and finally fill my tank. I set up my camp, eat a salad with my fingers (I forgot the spoon) and go to bed using the paraglider as a blanket.
Camp set up for the night on Bar-le-Duc airfield
The next morning a pilot comes to fly with his ultralight. I explain my crazy petrol problem to him and he immediately fills my tank and refuses to take any money! He says with a smile, “It’s for light aviation friendship”.
At cloudbase before a final glide to Basse-Ham
The conditions on this next day are stronger, but I still have a tail wind. I discover many places I didn’t know existed, even from the ground! I cross natural borders like the Meuse River and artificial ones like the new fast train line to Strasbourg. I’m at cloudbase when I see Basse-Ham. More than five hours of total flight time, a last glide and then I arrive for the start of the event. And I still have enough petrol to be in the crowd of pilots who all simultaneously take to the air for the paramotor world record.
Fly two hundred miles or more for a paramotor vol bivouac? Distance doesn’t matter. Paramotor vol bivouac possibilities are endless. It is up to you to find your own limit. I hope I have shown that adventure can exist at the corner of your own street and that paramotor vol bivouac is more accessible than you previously believed.
Acknowledgments: Fresh Breeze, ITV and Robert Kerns.
Photography by Franck Simonnet.
