Recreation / San Diego : HANG GLIDING: : It’s a Sport of Sounds and Sights : But the Dangers Remain Despite New Regulations

Bill Roecker overhears conversations between sun-bathers at Blacks Beach. And listens in on discussions between golfers lining up putts at Torrey Pines golf course.

He can touch the ravens and red tails that fly over the cliffs at the Torrey Pines Gliderport. And explore the roofs of homes on Mt. Soledad.

Airborne bugs are his neighbors. Cloud formations his guides. Medium-strength winds are an ally. Helicopters and radar-controlled planes a nemesis.

Known as “The Old Man of the Mountain” at Torrey Pines, Roecker, 44, is a master hang glider who enjoys sightseeing from 1,500 feet above the La Jolla Shores.

“I’m still amazed at what you can see,” Roecker said. “There are times you can let go (relax) and look for minutes at a time. I see the Coronado Islands, Millionaires’ Row (along the La Jolla Shores) and even L.A. when I get up high. When there is not much wind, you’d be amazed what I can hear.”

And what he can see.

“I didn’t even know it (Blacks Beach) was a nude beach until I went up in a hang glider,” said Lori Dowell, who has been Roecker’s passenger on several tandem flights.

Roecker, who took up hang gliding 11 years ago, said, “I always wanted to fly. Just seeing it (hang gliding) made me want to do it. The idea of a man on a kite was extremely appealing to me. It’s the closest thing to being a bird-like creature.”

Hang gliding has always attracted free spirits. The sport began in the 1970s as a means of personal discovery.

“Hang gliding is like catching a bigger wave,” said Doug Newby, a hang glider pilot who also enjoys surfing and lives on a sailboat. “It’s (hang gliding) a real good trip . . . It’s pure. It’s addicting.”

Roecker and Newby are among the 150 members of the Torrey Pines Hang Gliding Assn. who consider the 300-foot coastal cliff at Torrey Pines their sanctuary.

“Torrey Pines is kind of a mecca,” Roecker said. “This site is irreplaceable and easily the best one in the country.”

The Torrey Pines Gliderport is regarded as the most challenging and picturesque hang gliding site in San Diego County.

But it is also a potentially dangerous site, which is why the Torrey Pines Hang Gliding Assn. gave it an advanced rating. That means that beginning, novice and intermediate hang gliders are excluded by the chapter from soaring there. Hang glider pilots must show written accreditation before they can use the gliderport at Torrey Pines.

A hang glider must be a hang-four or a master--both of which require a considerable amount of training--to take off from the green carpet launching spot just three steps from the edge of a cliff overlooking Blacks Beach. It is not necessary to be a member of the Torrey Pines Hang Gliding Assn. in order to fly there.

There were eight hang glider fatalities at Torrey Pines during the early 1970s, but there has been only one since Torrey Pines became regulated in the early 1980s, according to Steve Hawxhurst, the U.S. Hang Gliding Assn. regional director for Southern California and Hawaii.

On one of the rare occasions when a novice tried to take off from the Torrey Pines gliderport without the proper card of accreditation, the members took matters into their own hands.

“One guy said he was going to fly here and that we couldn’t stop him,” Roecker said. “So we cut his wires.”

The Torrey Pines Hang Gliding Assn. is a close-knit fraternity that regards its gliderport and surroundings as shrines. And no novice is going to spoil them.

Roecker is a former English professor and free-lance journalist who moved from Arizona to Leucadia in order to take advantage of the air and surroundings that make hang gliding at Torrey Pines so special.

“Torrey Pines is the most pleasant air to fly in,” Roecker said. “It is smooth, thick and predictable. Smooth and predictable because it comes off the ocean. Thick because of the moisture in the air.”

While the air is a constant, winds are an annoyingly variable. The winds most suitable for soaring at Torrey Pines are those from 10 to 15 knots, with 12-knot winds usually allowing hang gliders the greatest amount of freedom to glide through the sky.

On a day when the winds are good, hang gliders will walk up to their version of the green monster--the launching pad--place their gliders on their backs, view their surroundings, take a few deep breathes and jump.

“On the takeoff,” said Newby, “you look at the water. It’s really a teacher (because water patterns can help hang gliders access the winds). Then one-two-three steps and you’re are off.”

Dowell, who did not need any training to fly on a tandem flight, will never forget her first takeoff from Torrey Pines.

“I wasn’t afraid until I had to walk the three steps to get off the cliff,” she said. “We went off the side. Before I knew it, we were way up in the air.”

Hang glider pilots at Torrey Pines generally fly at 20 to 30 m.p.h. and stay in the air for anywhere from 20 minutes to a few hours. The arms and back tend to get most tired from steering and the legs get tight from not being able to stretch.

The mind needs a break from what can often be periods of intense concentration.

“There are moments of tranquility when you are up there,” Roecker said, “but they are too few.”

Often, a hang glider is landlocked because of a lack of winds.

When the winds are dormant, hang gliders pass the time in much the same manner that baseball players wait out a rain delay. They read, talk and keep an eye on the flagpole to see if the wind is blowing.

Some hang gliding devotees who visit San Diego have been seen doing wind dances when the winds are still. How about the two guys from Florida who waited three days for the winds to come to Torrey Pines?

Even though the winds are usually strong enough to go soaring 300 days a year at Torrey Pines, those two guys never got any wind and never got off the ground.

Many times, being landlocked is the most fortunate thing that can happen to a hang gliding pilot.

That’s particularly true when winds die while a hang glider is cruising over the Pacific Ocean. In those instances, it’s usually not possible to get back to the landing area at the top of the cliff. Torrey Pines is one of the few places where hang gliders usually land on the same cliff from which they take off.

When a hang glider cannot get back to the landing area, he is quickly introduced to the beach or to a web of a tree.

Many hang gliders sigh when recalling how they had to make a surprise landing on the beach and carry the glider up the 300-foot cliff. Or how they landed on a roof.

Hang gliders also sigh when recalling their dealings with people flying radar-controlled planes.

To the right of the hang gliding launch pad at Torrey Pines is an area specifically set aside for pilots who hold their remote control boxes while flying their toys through the skies. The pilots had their spot before the hang gliders, and they are protective of their territory.

Therein lies the background to the battle for turf and skies.

It’s not uncommon to see a small radar-controlled plane headed straight toward a hang glider making his way through the sky. Sometimes the small planes come dangerously close to the hang gliders.

“There is some antagonism with RC (radar-controlled plane) fliers,” said Roecker, who also pilots radar-controlled planes. “Some of them think it’s entertaining to fly at your face. That infuriates me. I’ve never been anywhere else where the RCs have the kind of power they do here. It just makes sense that a toy would give way to a person.”

Toys, lack of wind and storms can make for some hairy landings, near misses and good stories.

But it is the accidents, severe injuries and deaths that give hang gliders chills.

And give their sport a bad image. In the Viewpoint article in the June 1986 issue of Hang Gliding magazine, Greg DeWolf and Raoul Mazzoni wrote: “Hang Gliding needs both a face lift and a name change. . . . The public perception of hang gliding as a high risk endeavor for the mentally deficient hasn’t changed much.”

From 1970 through 1985, there were 286 reported hang gliding deaths, according to the USHGA. In 1976, when the sport was at its peak, 43 hang gliding fatalities were reported. There were 40 in 1974, 32 in 1978 and 30 in 1979.

Since 1979, the number of reported fatalities has declined, but so has the number of participants. There were four reported deaths in 1984 and six in 1985.

Membership in the USHGA, which is not mandatory for people who hang glide, reached a high of approximately 12,000 in the mid ‘70s. In 1986, membership is about 6,000. Manufacturers of hang gliding equipment have decreased from a high of 25 to five.

“The sport is destined to become a small kind of sport,” Roecker said. “Hang gliding is still thought of as an extremely dangerous proposition by most of the general public.”

That’s the impetus for what has become a great debate within the sport.

“The basic issue was whether or not we should change the name of our sport to something more lyrical, more poetic, more in keeping with the beauty and gracefulness of our unique form of flying,” said DeWolf and Mazzoni in their Viewpoint article. . . . “The psychological impact of the word ‘hang’ did add to our perception as a death sport. . . .

“What better way is there to let people know that hang gliding is new and different than to change the name?”

Changing the name of the sport is not a novel idea. Cindy Brickner, executive director of the USHGA, said the membership has divided opinions about the change.

“Every five years the idea of a name change comes up,” Brickner said. “The concern is whether immediate identification with the sport would still be there.”

Or if a new name would reflect some of the changes that have occured in the sport. In the late 70s, hang gliders began wearing parachutes similar to those used by sky divers.

“That was a second chance for life,” Roecker said.

In addition to more stringent regulation and training programs, a majority of participants have become more safety conscious. And less wild in the air.

“I see fewer outright nut balls and undesirables now,” said Roecker, who believes the makeup of many of his gliding colleagues has changed since the heyday of the sport in the 70s.

“I’ve known a couple of hundred dead boys (who died in glider accidents),” Roecker said. “I have no intention of dying on a hang glider. I used to be a lot more ‘Go for it’ than I am now. I used to believe a good flight was worth a lot of risk.”

Now, Roecker and many of his colleagues will not go flying in winds under 10 knots or more than 25 knots. Keeping one’s ego under control can be extremely important for the survival of a hang glider.

Roecker will not even consider trying to pull a 180-degree rollover, a maneuver as dangerous as it sounds.

“Ignorance and pulling yourself beyond your capabilities are what cause most of the danger,” Roecker said. “Those who have made it through those early days (of hang gliding) are not inclined to do either.”

They are more inclined to wave to ravens and eavesdrop on sunbathers while enjoying the sensation of flying.

HANG GLIDING

EQUIPMENT--A glider costs between $1,400 and $3,000, a harness costs approximately $350, a parachute $300-$400 and a helmet $50-$75.

WHERE TO GO-- Torrey Pines Gliderport, Laguna Mountain, Horse Canyon (off Interstate-8), Big Black Mountain in Ramona and Little Black Mountain in Rancho Penasquitos.

INSTRUCTION-- Flight Realities Inc. offers lessons. The training area is in Cantamar, which is approximately 30 miles south of San Diego on the coastline of Baja California. Lessons include instruction, equipment and bus transportation from San Diego. Costs for the lesson packages range from $55 to $340.