America's Longest Paragliding Flight in 2022

Paragliding video about my longest cross country paragliding flight of my life! Also the longest flight in America this season, and the new Oregon State Distance Record.

On July 27, at 11:54am, I launched off Pine Mountain with hopes and dreams of a record flight. I'll post some of my writeup below! Go to my website and sign up for the newsletter if you'd like to read more.

Xcontest flight page
https://www.xcontest.org/2022/world/e...

SportsTrackLive live tracking and 3D Replay!
https://www.sportstracklive.com

4 Hour Fuel - the drink mix I use to fuel these flights! We make it in my garage and you can order it here!!! 800 calories per 500ml!
https://4hourfuel.company.site

XC Clinic w/ Ari in Mexico! Jan/Feb 2023
https://ariintheair.com/tours/

Follow me on instagram!
  / ariintheair  

Support this channel! $5/Month! Get FREE PARAGLIDE COACHING!
  / ariintheair  

PHILOSOPHICAL COACHING WITH ARI
HTTPS://www.ariintheair.com/coaching/

Ari in the Air Podcast - available on all platforms
  / ariintheair  

15% OFF QUALIA NOOTROPICS - I take these for EVERY XC FLIGHT!
https://neurohacker.com/shop/qualia-m...
Code: ARI (good for 15% off any purchase)

"Outta bed and straight to the forecast. It looks big, huge really. A forecast like this on any other day would spook anybody looking to disappear into a frenzied dash to launch. The wrench that the universe threw my way that particular morning was the forecast for the following day; a bit higher, a bit lower chance of OD. Fuck. Should I pull the trigger today or postpone? I already had a retrieve set up, my bag was packed, and my friend Ben was there to drive me to launch. I have him look at the forecast too. He says “Hard to tell. You could always just go fly your paraglider and see what happens.”
Fair enough. I’d like to think that on most XC days I am not as neurotic about the forecast, its just that one week prior I had, on a particularly low expectations high-fun day, landed 5km short of the Oregon state distance record. It was a beautiful day; completely blue and I was completely alone. I wasn’t trying to break any records, but when I nearly did it stirred that part of me that both wants to win and to see how far I can push it. Hence my neurotic morning of hmm’ing and hahhh’ing at the forecast. Ben’s reminder to just go fly was all I needed - I pulled the trigger in my head.
I found a decent climb right off launch, which is a blessing that you don’t always get here at Pine Mountain. My friend Ryan, who launched on an EN-C, struggled to keep up with me in the climb, but managed to be nearby when I drifted out of it at 9k’ and started down courseline. The second climb here should be on Pine Mountain, its a huge feature that sticks outta the desert. Nothing really finds me on the rest of the mountain and I lead us out into the flats lower than I’d like. It’s barely noon and things can be slow this time of day, so I’m flying in first gear, turning in anything that’ll beep through a solid 360. As we head south, Ryan considerably below me, we run into a headwind. I cuss resentfully, telling myself that if the wind won’t blow me down courseline all day, I’m not breaking any records. I push into the headwind on some bar and find more than a meter per second up. Consistently climbing into this headwind until it really consolidated into a climb to. This was the last I had Ryan with me. I wished him luck and pushed on. The terrain in front of me is littered with small volcanic buttes. There is a sea of trees to the west, and I’m on the edge of it. There are a few large clouds developing ahead, and I push fast until I run into the 4 that takes me towards them. They’re short lived though, one more glide and I’m back into a blue hole, and getting lower. 30km down courseline there is hard shade - the massive dry lakebed that is Summer Lake overdeveloped by 10am and is now blanketed by a thick cloud. Once again I cuss at what I expect a record setting sky should look like. I tell myself that I’m still not there, focusing on whats right in front of me and allowing space in my head for things to change by the time I’m there.
I’m getting low as I enter Christmas Valley. Off courseline to the west, a five acre field is swirling with a massive hurricane of a dust devil. The field next to it is sporting a thousand foot tall, pencil-thin column of dirt. It’s 5km from me. I consider racing to it, which makes my heart quicken..."