Kieran Campbell
Roc Des Boeufs
A few hundred metres below, the sharp spine of Roc des Boeufs extends back to Lac d'Annecy; across the lake, Les Dents de Lanfon disappear into the light cloud, and mark the starting point of this aerial journey.
The 10 minute glide high over the lake gives plenty time to relax and absorb the grandeur of the space I'm in, but that gives way in the final minute - as much of that height has been spent on the crossing - to focussing on harnessing the lift as I reach Roc des Boeufs ridge. Gently soaring back and forth along the lower starting section of the ridge (the left side of the far end as viewed), incrementally acquiring altitude on each pass, soon I can push south to the higher ridge, catching glimpses over and through the gaps in the ridge, across the raised valley of Entrevernes to Doussard and the south end of the lake.
There's a certain irony that, as I soar along this ridge, suspended by a handful of thin lines from a machine that packs into a bag, looking down on that precarious ridge makes me feel uneasy. In my mind I leave my aerial safety zone for a moment and imagine myself trying to navigate that ridge on foot; a mildly terrifying thought. Then I return to the comfort of my harness, lean to one side and carve my way into a thermal that takes me to the cloudy dreamscape above, leaving that ridge and the rest of the landscape behind.
Roc Des Boeufs
A few hundred metres below, the sharp spine of Roc des Boeufs extends back to Lac d'Annecy; across the lake, Les Dents de Lanfon disappear into the light cloud, and mark the starting point of this aerial journey.
The 10 minute glide high over the lake gives plenty time to relax and absorb the grandeur of the space I'm in, but that gives way in the final minute - as much of that height has been spent on the crossing - to focussing on harnessing the lift as I reach Roc des Boeufs ridge. Gently soaring back and forth along the lower starting section of the ridge (the left side of the far end as viewed), incrementally acquiring altitude on each pass, soon I can push south to the higher ridge, catching glimpses over and through the gaps in the ridge, across the raised valley of Entrevernes to Doussard and the south end of the lake.
There's a certain irony that, as I soar along this ridge, suspended by a handful of thin lines from a machine that packs into a bag, looking down on that precarious ridge makes me feel uneasy. In my mind I leave my aerial safety zone for a moment and imagine myself trying to navigate that ridge on foot; a mildly terrifying thought. Then I return to the comfort of my harness, lean to one side and carve my way into a thermal that takes me to the cloudy dreamscape above, leaving that ridge and the rest of the landscape behind.