Learning to Fly: My Honest Paragliding Experience in Bir

As someone who loves her life dearly, signing up for learning paragliding felt like a strangely contradictory thing to do. But after staying in Bir for a few months and watching people fly every single day, my curious brain couldn’t resist the idea of learning to fly.

While I have shared all the technical information about the paragliding course (safety, choosing the school, cost, and certification) in another blog, I wanted to share my personal experience of the journey here – the everyday grind, the mental journey and why I quit after P2.

Day 1 to 3: Ground Training

“Keep your common sense aside. What you’re about to do is not in your DNA.”

That’s the first thing that our chief instructor, Gurpreet Dhindsa, said to us. Basically, what he meant was that as land animals, we don’t have any understanding of how things work in the air. So, we shouldn’t try to go with our ‘instinct‘. Because we do not have any instinct to begin with.

On that positive note, we started the training. The first two days of learning paragliding were completely chaotic – lines everywhere, totally new language (the gear, aviation terms and whatnot) and a wing that was quite the task to open, check, run with and carry back up hill!

Ground training is relentless:
Run towards the wind. Inflate. Control. Drop. Pack. Hike. Repeat.

By Day 3, though, two things happened – I got huge blood clots on my arms, and things slowly started making sense. The wing stayed overhead longer, and my body started understanding the rhythm.

You can see what all this looks like here.

Day 4: Tandem Flight

This was supposed to be a totally chill day of the paragliding training. I was supposed to be shown around by a tandem pilot while I sat back and enjoyed the flight.

The experience was anything but chill, though.

When we arrived at the takeoff site, the wind wasn’t exactly flying-friendly. It was mostly dead except for some gusts. As we waited for the right time, we watched two fricking failed takeoffs. Both solo paragliders.

The first one took off, the wing stalled, and the lines started twisting. My tandem pilot said, “There’s no way to correct that failure in the hair, and all we can do is hope and then fall somewhere safe.”

The second failure that followed 20 minutes later was even scarier. The person started running, and maybe they were slow because of the hesitation. The glider didn’t inflate by the time they reached the edge, and they ended up rolling down the mountain side a little bit.

Thankfully, both of them were mostly safe. But that was more than enough to rattle me to my very core!

I was fully alert during both my tandem flights! I paid attention to every instruction, every correction and every decision made by the instructor. After the flights, we came back to a little more ground training on how to handle the harness.

Again, you can watch that story here.

Wish almost granted!

With the exhaustion of 4 days of training and the scare I had after watching two failed takeoffs, I was kind of praying for a day off. At around 3.30 pm, the prayers were answered!

There was a notification from the government asking to pause all flying activities for 10 days for a government event at Dharamshala (things like this happen). And for a beat there, I was very relieved! We made plans to go to a different takeoff the day after.

I was at my friends’, finally relaxed to have caught a break and at 8 pm I got a call saying the notification had been reversed. It was aggravating!

Day 5 to 7: The Solo Flights

Nothing prepares you for being told to run toward the edge while dragging a giant piece of cloth behind you. I mean, absolutely nothing!

I knew that I knew everything I needed to know. And I was in the hands of a good paragliding school. But still, nothing I told myself helped me with the nerves.

With two deep breaths and shaky hands, I ran as if life depended on it… because my life depended on it. And just like that, I was in the air. A smooth takeoff, and then it was absolutely comfortable. I was cruising in the air with stunning mountain views. In 20 mins it was time to land.

Turns out that was the scary part. While I was given detailed instructions through a radio on what to do, it was nerve-wracking to fly over roads and buildings, hoping to land safely in the landing zone. I pulled the brake toggles slightly sooner and stumbled to a stop. You can watch it all here.

The next three? It got easier and easier. Cleaner. Calmer. Lighter.

Why I Chose Not to Continue to P3

The theory part of learning paragliding was intense. Air laws. Weather. Equipment. Decision-making. I was juggling physical exhaustion, mental load, freelance work and studying for exams.

That’s when the bigger question surfaced: Do I want this as a long-term practice?

I initially signed up for P1 + P2 + P3. But as I was finishing P2, I wasn’t very sure if I wanted to continue. Not because flying scared me. But because everything around flying demanded:

• Time
• Consistency
• Money
• Risk tolerance
• Immense patience

A typical flying day involves:

• A 45-minute cab ride
• Equipment checks
• Waiting for the right wind
• Mental readiness
• Accepting that you may not fly at all

I saw people fall deeply in love with this process. I respected that. But I realised that it wasn’t for me because I was not ready to invest the time, money and patience the sport demanded.

Learning paragliding, especially those first solo flights, is still one of the coolest things I’ve done in my life.

I learned to fly. I learned to trust. And I learned when to stop.

And sometimes, that’s the bravest decision of all.