Winter Sports Special
Happy Landings FQR’s Alpine Aviatrix Annette Mason gives the low-down on flying high
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n your skiing holiday this winter you may well land at an altiport, or elevated airfield, in the European Alps. Bangda in Tibet is the world’s highest airfield at 14,219ft asl (above sea level), though you’re unlikely to land there this winter, as there are not many (if any) ski slopes in Tibet. Heliskiing down Everest – now there’s a challenge. On the other hand, on your way to St Moritz, Samedan airfield in the Engadin valley is only 5,600ft asl, but altitude sickness, even at this elevation, is a possibility – as you will be higher and descending rapidly, the effects are worse if you are a private pilot in a single-engine aircraft. Samedan is relatively easy to land at as it has a 5,905ft-long runway, and as Gstaad and St Moritz are nearby, it’s usually full of gorgeous people
looking for their helicopters. Altitude sickness is more likely at Courchevel altiport, though this may be the least of your problems, especially if you’re landing on snow, as it has a very short runway. It is the highest in the Alps at 6,588ft asl, and has one of the shortest runways at 1,722ft. With no go-around, you only get one chance to land, before you interface with the scenery. It’s also the world’s steepest – a terrifying 18.5-degree gradient. Think taking off by going down a water slide or ski jump, with nothing but a sheer drop at the end.
One Cool Customer Elisabeth von Thurn und Taxis charts her slippery course from skis to snowboard – and back
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lthough I was born in the Eighties, it was in the Nineties that my consciousness slowly awoke and I plunged into the prepubescent world of consumerism. I bought my first CD. I began to dabble sartorially as well as musically speaking. At first it was all about Grunge. Kurt Cobain was my hero. Corduroys and old cardies, badly dyed hair and a belly-button piercing followed swiftly. Music had to be loud, slightly aggressive and American. Grunge grew into Punk Rock, and skateboarders became my new pin-ups. My style evolved and I began wearing candy shades of pink and blue with over-the-knee socks and short skirts, the uniform of the skater chick. About the same time, snowboarding gained popularity in Germany. Having grown up in Bavaria, my siblings and I – barely
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FQR’s recommended AlpineAirstrips Courchevel Méribel L’Alpe-d’Huez Any Glacier ❄
You might also have to contend with the Foehn effect, when dry wind coming down a mountain warms up as it descends, creating strong up and down draughts, swirling around the mountains, causing rapid changes in cloud and weather. Oh, and try to avoid flying into Mont Blanc. It is also breathtakingly beautiful, literally, with air pressure decreasing, the higher you are, the less oxygen there is in the air to breathe. This causes the lightheadedness and nausea. Around the corner is Méribel, with a few tricky glaciers you can land at. It’s part of the Trois Vallées with Courchevel.
having taken our first steps – were forced onto skis. All I remember was an abundance of fluorescent-coloured clothes and being cold. I found skiing to be rather overrated. It took hours to get dressed, then it took even longer to get up that damn mountain. Finally, you got the payoff; it lasted a mere few moments. Then you had to get all the way up that mountain yet again. On top of that, I found the sheer quantity of paraphernalia needed for a day on the slopes quite impossible to keep together. A missing glove, a lost pair of sunglasses and my mother would get scarily angry. My parents dragged us to the usual hotspots: St Moritz, St Anton, St Christoph, Zürs, Kitzbühel. What I seem to remember was the fabulous pool at the Hospiz Hotel in St Christoph and the amazing slide at the Corviglia Club, but not so much the skiing. Even in my teens, skiing didn’t quite match the look I was going for. I always felt there was something nerdy about the sport. The early rise, the queuing, the tight suits, even the movements on skis appeared odd to me. Let’s face it, there was nothing cool about skiing. So you can imagine that when snowboarding came along I had no hesitation whatsoever in abandoning ship and joining the snowboarders. Everything about snowboarders was cool. They wore baggy clothes in muted tones rather than frightening onepiece suits in neon orange. They wore big hats and cool shades and their snowboards were decorated with funky stickers. They smoked cigarettes (and other smokables). They spent most of the day sitting in the middle of the slopes chilling out. In between chilling they
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The altiport is similar, though lower at 5,639ft asl, and the runway is often snow covered and shorter at 1,400ft. This makes landing exciting, as it’s difficult to judge your height above snow. So it may be no surprise that you need a special licence to fly in the mountains, and any ski wear is absolutely perfect for warmth. The heaters in small planes can be fairly feeble, and there’s always the outside chance of the drama of a forced landing, and a bit of a wait for help… Annette Lynton-Mason, wife of Pink Floyd drummer Nick, is an actress, motor racer, biker (on a Suzuki Bandit), helicopter pilot, competitive horse rider, sculptor, mother, housewife – and FQR’s Aviation Editor ❄ FQR’s Festive Favourite
would get up, do an incredibly acrobatic jump and sit back down. Their demeanour was always subdued and unimpressed. But, most importantly, they loathed skiing. Of course, even within the world of snowboarding there were two camps. You had the freestylers (the ones described above, the cool cats) and then you had the racers, who might as well have stayed on skis, if you ask me. I, of course, became a freestyler. For Christmas I begged for board and gear. I started smoking and I learnt to skid down the slopes. Voilà. o be honest, I didn’t really enjoy snowboarding after the initial novelty wore off. I still felt cold and I never really got good enough to join in on the jumping, but at least I got to hang out with some of the dudes that did. What I really wanted was to go out with one of those dudes. The ones who jumped and chilled. Of course, being cool meant they didn’t show the least bit of interest in an awkward 13-year-old girl. After I left for boarding school at the age of 15, then moved to Madrid and Paris for uni, the mountains were replaced by beaches and nightclubs. If I did make it to the slopes I would probably find myself in one of those après-ski dens before I knew it and so my winter-sports career began to fizzle out. Today life on the slopes seems to have radically changed. Everyone wears helmets, the slopes are jam-packed and snowboarding has definitely lost its edge. So the few times I have gone down a slope in the past couple of years has been on skis. I must admit
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Winter 2010