96 Australian Geographic
W
E TRAVELLED TO a specialist high-altitude sky-
diving drop zone in Davis, California, for our practice
jumps on 1 April 2015. Our fi nal jump at Davis was
a full trial from 30,000ft. To guard against decompression
sickness we had to breathe pure oxygen for an hour before take-
off at daybreak. Under our wingsuits we wore several layers of
thermals and a wind stopper. Our helmets housed cameras, GPS,
audible altimeters and Bluetooth communication devices.
Once we’d settled in the plane and connected to the onboard
oxygen system, we could all contemplate what lay ahead. Every-
one was quiet. I concentrated on the slow even breathing that
helps me stay focused in stressful situations, and visualised each
part of the jump from exit to landing.
The plane climbed to 30,000ft in 30 minutes. Five minutes
before exit we began the awkward business of turning on our
personal oxygen systems and cameras, and disconnecting from
the umbilical cord of the plane’s systems. At our predetermined
exit coordinates, Tad opened the plane door. It was –48°C out-
side. Within moments we were out and fl ying, moving into the
formation we’d practised.
We fl ew across the patchwork fi elds of Davis for six minutes
(double our normal fl ight time). The sun was low in the sky,
bathing the alternating green and brown paddocks in silver. It
was breathtakingly beautiful, but cold. With a forward speed of
more than 160km/h, the chill in my hands was painful. We all
put down safely, completely elated that everything had
worked perfectly. We were ready for the Grand Canyon.
After a 14-hour drive from Davis to Peach Springs in Arizona
we met Bennett Jackson, who was to be our guide and main
Hualapai liaison. Bennett’s family has lived in the Peach Springs
area for centuries. He has a strong and intimate connection to
the land on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.
From Peach Springs we followed his four-wheel-drive
along a rough dirt track for almost three hours, before reach-
ing a remote part of the canyon where, he told us, no-one
but Hualapai had ever been before. The track ended abruptly
on the edge of a cliff. The view in every direction was as spec-
tacular as it was daunting. We walked around the forested
peninsula, behind a feature known as McKee Point, for fi ve
hours, looking for a clearing to land our parachutes.
WITH MORE than 300 individual
panels, these custom-made suits
have wings between the arms
and legs, which the skydivers
use in conjunction with a
parachute system. The suits are
constructed of high-tech fabrics
such as ‘zero-porosity’ nylon
and Mylar plastic sheet. They
are light but incredibly strong
and use gravity to transform
speed into lift, enabling skilled
pilots to achieve horizontal
speeds of about 200km/h and
reduce vertical speeds to
70km/h or less.
With a forward speed of more
than 160km/h, the chill in my
hands was painful. CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: GRAEME MURRAY; WWW.SIERRALARA.COM/GETTY; VICENTE CAJIGA
AUSTRALIAN GEOGRAPHIC
SOCIETY SUPPORTED
LAYERS
The suit consists of four
layers: a compression suit
worn against the skin;
woollen thermals; wind-
proof thermals; and the
custom-made outer
wingsuit.
WINGS
Much like a bird’s wing, these act as aerofoils,
directing airfl ow over the top, and creating a
lower pressure above the wing than below. This
generates lift and allows the pilots to move
forwards 3m for every 1m they fall vertically.
LEGS
The legwings are used to
control the speed: the
straighter the legs are held,
the faster the fl ying speed.
FLYING SURFACE
The total area of the
wingsuit during fl ight is
around 1.5sq.m, creating
a large aerofoil for fl ight,
but requiring signifi cant
body strength to hold in
Advanced technology enables wingsuit pilots to soar at the correct position.
unprecedented heights
HOW
WINGSUITS
WORK
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