Rarified Air

Rarified Air

By Nathan Finneman, EAA 1459460

This piece originally ran in the October 2024 issue of EAA Sport Aviation magazine.

Setting records has always been an interest of mine, being good friends with Bear Grylls who set an unofficial paramotor altitude record of nearly 29,000 feet 20 years ago from Mount Everest. For me it was pushing the limits and putting an American flag on the world record books in a sport that is dominated by Europeans. I had gotten word that a French pilot was going to attempt being the first to set the electric paramotor altitude record, and this added urgency to the mission.

Electric paramotors are a fairly new development. My friend Jeremy Kelly has multiple electric paramotor units, including one with four motors, and is our “guru.” There is just one electric paramotor currently commercially available — the OpenPPG SP140.

Setting an altitude record requires a keen attention to detail. It’s not just a matter of taking off and snapping a photo of my altimeter. To make it official, it has to be ratified by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale (FAI), the governing body for records like this. It requires digital altimeters that have been approved, officially calibrated, and sealed, as well as a certified FAI observer.

This record attempt was going to take place up in the Rocky Mountains, which meant that weather and winds were going to be some of the most unforgiving aspects. As a GA pilot who has flown airplanes countless times across the Continental Divide, I deeply respect the mountains, the weather, and the winds. Conditions change in a matter of seconds. We chose to fly the record attempt in November for the smoother and more predictable winds and temperatures, frigid though they are. We had estimated the temperatures in my initial climb would be about -3 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s very cold. Batteries and cold temperatures don’t mix well, which meant that my flight time could be diminished by about half. I wouldn’t have a lot of flying time, but with careful power management, it would be enough to get me to the benchmark altitude.

My wing of choice originally was going to be a 34-meter Dudek Hadron Cabrio. However, the winds at the surface were already 8-10 knots and at 12,000 feet were 33 knots, so I opted for my 18-meter Gin Carve wing. The Gin Carve is a stable wing that generates a lot less lift than the larger Hadron, but it has better penetration. I’d be limited in overall altitude, but I had a better chance of penetrating the winds and making it back to the landing zone (LZ), which was the same as the takeoff point — another requirement for the record — with the smaller wing. It’s often thought that I would simply take off and hold full throttle to establish the record, but that would consume my battery too quickly. I did extensive planning to find a power setting that yielded the best combination of climb rate and endurance.

Finally, on November 2, 2023, the day came. We met at the Lake County Airport (KLXV) in Leadville, Colorado, at 6 a.m. The airport management was incredibly helpful in making this work. I’d originally planned a midday takeoff to let it warm up a bit, but the winds would be too high by then — a storm front was rolling in that made my weather window short. I needed to complete the flight before the winds spiked to their predicted 18-25-plus knots. Jeremy put the battery on one more cycle through charge, while I warmed up in the FBO, before suiting up in my Cold War-era insulated Air Force flight suit and powering up and calibrating my flight instruments. Then my friend Kevin drove me over to the LZ.

We had an amazing team who, frankly, were the reason this record attempt happened in the first place. In addition to Jeremy and Kevin, my friend Daniel West was there to get my wing out and ready. Leah, the FAI observer, verified that both altimeters were on and recording. This last part was crucial; if the data wasn’t recorded properly, then the record attempt would be pointless.

With the winds coming out of the west at 8 knots, I waved goodbye to my girlfriend, parents, and friends. I powered on the control module and launched. One of the most impressive things about an electric paramotor is the instantaneous power response — there is no delay.

The initial climb was smooth, and not too turbulent. I used a power ratio of about 39 percent, or just less than half-throttle. At 12,000 feet, the turbulence increased as I hit the higher winds. My thermometer read -9 degrees Fahrenheit, and my hands were starting to reflect that. Thankfully, I saw no reduction in thrust due to the cold. The winds continued to increase as I climbed, and I estimated them to be about 35 knots at 13,000 feet. My groundspeed had dropped to near zero, but I was still climbing.

I verified that the FAI altimeters were still on and recording, but I wanted to check the backup altimeter strapped to my chest, so I took off my right glove to tap the touch screen. Removing the glove was easy, but trying to get it back on in severe turbulence proved nearly impossible. With the temperature now at -11 degrees Fahrenheit, I had minutes left before the exposure could do serious damage to my hand. Finally, after nearly four minutes, I managed to take my mask off and use my teeth to get the glove back on.

Note to self: Just keep your gloves on. No excuses.

At this point, 26 minutes into the flight, I knew I was somewhere close to 14,000 feet based on my last look at the altimeter. The winds aloft were pretty brutal. Even with trims out in full reflex on my 18-meter wing, I had been blown backward past the airport. Then, things got worse. I reached up to shake the ice off the risers and somehow hit the electric power-down switch. The motor went silent, and I couldn’t get it to come back on.

I made the call to go into a deep spiral to bleed off altitude and build up speed in order to try to penetrate the winds and make it back to the airport, as landing anywhere else would nullify the record attempt. Being surrounded by 30-foot pine trees for miles didn’t make an off-airport landing any more appealing, either. Somehow, when I got down to 11,000 feet, I managed to penetrate forward just enough to where I was able to land back at the airport. The minute my feet touched the ground I went to my knees. I was exhausted, and the pain in my hands from being exposed to below zero temps had taken its toll.

Leah came and removed the altimeters. I was relieved to be on the ground and happy to start to thaw out. Those feelings were short-lived when Leah called me over and said, “We have a problem.” She was attempting to download the altitude data and couldn’t find any — from any point of my flight.

My heart sank. All that effort was for nothing.

We tried everything. None of the recordings would show up on the computer. However, the altimeters were still blinking as if they were recording, even well after the flight. I was worried about doing anything drastic, but I knew that I had to make another attempt. I made the call to power down one of the altimeters and leave the other one recording, while Jeremy did an emergency charge on the paramotor battery. I worked on warming up, and after 30 minutes, the paramotor battery was back up to 58 percent. Daniel helped me get the wing reset, Leah reinstalled the altimeters on my flight suit, and I launched.

Once again, I used 39 percent throttle and started to climb into the increasing winds. Thirty-three minutes later, I’d reached nearly 15,000 feet, and the electric paramotor went into automatic shutdown with 7 percent battery left. The temperature at my highest point was -14 degrees Fahrenheit, and the average wind speed was 36 knots. I was frozen and exhausted but managed to land right back at the landing zone with the team.

Leah removed the altimeters, and we discovered that we had data from both flights. That made it official — we had set the first world altitude record in an electric paramotor. The FAI lists the altitude as 4,508 meters, which is approximately 14,790 feet.

This flight was really just a test to see what the electric paramotor would do when pushed to the limits in both altitude and temperature. We are already working on plans to go even higher. Working on factors such as wing size, winds, and, for that matter, flying with a fully charged battery, has the potential to get us to some truly impressive altitudes in the future. We’re looking forward to continuing to expand what can be done with electric propulsion.

Fly safe, my friends. Don’t stop pushing the limits. Most importantly, if it’s really cold out, keep your gloves on.

Nathan “Sir Drifto” Finneman, EAA 1459460, is a former air show pilot, modern day barnstormer, and aircraft collector who has been passionate about aviation since childhood. Every day, he strives to become a better aviator than he was the day before.

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