Tuesday May 1, 2001
    "Final Ten! Final Ten!", called Palo Vavro to the long line from behind his computer already before ten a.m., because the race proposal allowed a maximum of 80 participants. In the end, however, the number of registered competitors exceeds 80 anyway and is still to be finalized tomorrow.




    The race organizers equipped the competition with truly excellent weather, similar to last year's at exactly this time. Following a rainy and very cold month, Spring suddenly hit, and that several days before the kick-off of the race, so that the runways had time to dry out. It would be ridiculous to think that participants in such a prestigious event would dishonor and dirty their parachutes with mud.

    The sharp sunlight warmed the southern faces of the hills of Stranik, and at the briefing a flight over one turning point of a total distance of 32 km was announced, with a goal line just beyond Cadca. A strong southeast wind, however, shuffled the cards and the planned starting window at 13:00 had to be postponed indefinitely.




    And because the wind made no indication of dying down, more than 100 people spread out on the summit of Stranik and a general waiting and lazing about began.




    "And do you know what the difference is between a male and female mountain climber?", began Petr Pokorny from Karvina. "Well, obviously, the female mountain climber can reach a peak down at base camp ...!"

    About ten minutes before three o'clock in the afternoon, Ondra Dupal, not competing, decided to pit his strengths against the Slovak wind and brought his parachute to the starting ground. After inflating the canopy he was literally catapulted perpendicularly upward, and in this manner rose 300 meters above the start without a single turn. Having watched Ondra's take off, the racing field's appetite for competition evidently vanished and at 3:15 today was declared a non-competing day. The was the moment for which evidently Juraj Kleja had been waiting, and thus began his usual exhibitionism, similar to that of Ondra Dupal. The entire crowd at Stranik, understandably, rose to their feet, gracefully lifting their tired bodies from the grass, and turned into a gazing audience in a natural amphitheater.



    The performances are difficult to describe, it is much better to see them with your own eyes, but maybe the photographs can say a few words.



    After 4 p.m., the wind lessened somewhat after all, and the paragliders divided up into two camps. While the one moved to the tables in the shade of the hangar and began to consume steaks, sausages and beer, the second unpacked their parachutes and hurled themselves into the lessened wind. Tens of colorful canopies glowed in the setting evening sun, even past 6 p.m.