Ed Day’s Wanderbird Adventure 2026
29-06-2026
#Team
Team Pilot Ed Day undertook the first ever Wanderbird Adventurer hike-and-fly race across the Alps with his Tigra. The task: a 500km out-and-back hike-and-fly adventure from Westendorf, Austria, to Piz Uccello, Switzerland.
This was the middle-sized version of the adventure, which could be done in Fun (300km), Tour (Ed’s, 500km) and Hero (800km) categories.
Pilots had a week from 13 June to complete the out-and-back to reach the finish in Westendorf for 20 June.
The Tour category attracted the biggest number of participants, but windy, foehn conditions on the first few days meant not much flying was possible, and all participants switched to the Fun category whose turnpoint was at Piz Arina.
Four pilots completed the out-and-return by 20 June. There were no prizes, as it was officially an adventure rather than a competition, but Ed was 6th in the rankings, having tagged the Piz Arina turnpoint on day 7.
Here is his report:
The WanderBird Adventure is an eight-day, out-and-back hike-and-fly task starting in Westendorf, Austria, with three possible turnpoints ranging from 300-800km. It is self-supported and designed to allow each pilot to choose their own path.
This year, I was looking for a challenge that felt more like exploration than racing, so when WanderBird announced the Adventure format I signed up and in June I travelled from the UK to Austria with a 15-18kg pack and the aim of reaching the “Tour” 500km turnpoint.
Day one set the tone. Twelve of us met at 7.30am, collected trackers and, after a briefing and some inspiration from Paul Guschlbauer, set off into a forecast dominated by strong north-westerly winds. Three strategies emerged: hike the Innsbruck valley, climb Kreuzjoch, or climb Sonnenjoch and hope for a later flight into the Zillertal. I met Alex and Freek on the Sonnenjoch option, and within hours we formed the team that would shape the first half of my Adventure.
After around 2,500m of ascent, we reached the summit, only to find 40-50kph winds and no realistic launch. Disappointment was high, especially as those who had opted for Kreuzjoch were able to fly down. Instead of flying, we were forced to descend more than 1,800m on foot into the Zillertal valley, finally reaching Stumm just before 10pm after a 45km day. My feet were blistering, morale had taken a hit, and there was nowhere open for food. Still, the three of us had made a strong team, and it was Freek’s birthday the next day.
Day two brought more NW wind and hiking on the road. We walked through Mayrhofen, bought birthday cakes, and pushed on towards the hut at Schlegeisbach, a 40km ascending hike. By midday, my blisters had burst on the soles of my feet, and even with plasters and tape, hiking was painful. Three participants had already dropped out due to injuries, and I wondered how long I could continue. I broke the day into 5km blocks and eventually reached a hut by 8pm, tired but still going.
On day three we crossed into Italy via Pfitscher Joch. The wind was still 40-50kph, but short lulls made launching just possible. I was nervous, I had brought with me a new paraglider, the BGD Tigra, and had not managed to fly it in the UK before the trip. Launching a new wing in strong wind and likely lee-side rotor was not how I envisaged my first flight. The flight in the end was demanding but manageable, and all three of us landed safely in the valley, grateful not to have walked down again. We continued on foot to Sterzing and spent the night there, pleased to have flown at last.
Day four, I felt lighter, maybe my body was getting use to this? We hiked to Jaufenpass, where, unfortunately, high cloud blocked the thermals, so we glided down towards Merano. The flight seemed straightforward until Alex narrowly missed a hard-to-spot power cable on landing, a reminder that even “easy” flights demanded focus. Later, we had lunch in an exclusive wellness spa, looking thoroughly disheveled, we were surprised they let us in, before the three of us squeezed into a glamping caravan for the night. Somehow, it was my best sleep of the trip.
Day five was about patience and hard decisions. The Merano valley held serious landing challenges, for 40km the valley floor is covered by apple orchards, making any landing serious. I was happy to take a slower day, climb to Hochmuth, and wait for better weather, even if others made progress hiking in the valley. That evening Gregor, another adventurer, caught us up at the Mochmuth hut, and we planned for the biggest flying day yet.
Day six promised exceptional XC weather, but the Vinschgau valley had an inversion and moderate north-westerlies at 2,000-3,000m. We followed local pilots to the highest launch, a steep slope where one mistake would send you falling hundreds of metres. Not a launch to mess up! By 10.30 am we were airborne and climbing to 3,200m. For a while the day was on and I was covering distance.
Then the air became increasingly rough. Each spur brought a headwind and lee-side conditions. I got low, spent half an hour surfing close to the trees, clawed back to cloudbase, then lost height on the next crossing. Freek and I ended up low together, unable to climb in a broken wind-swept thermal. I landed just beyond the last apple orchards after 45km, while Alex and Gregor escaped the valley and flew more than 150km. Watching that was hard. The mental side of the Adventure was now hitting as much as the physical.
On day seven Freek and I climbed to a take-off above Reschensee. Thunderstorms were forecast for 2 pm, with a strong south foehn, so the flying window was short. I launched at 11 am, struggled at first, then found a strong thermal that took me above 3,200m. The Piz Arina turnpoint was suddenly in sight. I pushed directly over the high mountains, passing over a col and tagged the turnpoint feeling ecstatic to have reached it by air.
Looking south, I could already see storms building in Italy. My feet were still in a bad way, potential gust fronts were behind me, and the next day’s forecast showed the Inn Valley blocked by storms. That was when my mindset changed. What did this Adventure mean to me? At that moment flying to Piz Arina felt like the accomplishment I had been seeking. I saw Pfunds below, with a good landing field and public transport back to Westendorf, and decided that this was to be the end of my adventure. I glided down, landing with a sense of relief, ending a day early.
After a beer and pizza in Pfunds I took buses and a train back to Westendorf, where most of the adventurers gathered for dinner. Next day we joined the WanderBird Community Hike and Fly day, with most of us deciding to take the cable car. Thermalling together over Westendorf felt so special. We had started as strangers, but after tracking each other, sharing decisions, and living the same weather, challenges and uncertainty, it felt as though we had known each other for years. We celebrated as a team into the evening, sharing our personal journeys.
The WanderBird Adventure was not what I expected. I thought I would spend most of it alone, instead, the friendship with Alex and Freek became central to the journey. I learnt a huge amount about moving fast and light in the Alps, and I’ve come back home feeling like I have unfinished business. I will be back next year, but definitely with a lighter pack!
Photos; Ed Day, Josh Sampiero, Lukas Anziger
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This was the middle-sized version of the adventure, which could be done in Fun (300km), Tour (Ed’s, 500km) and Hero (800km) categories.
Pilots had a week from 13 June to complete the out-and-back to reach the finish in Westendorf for 20 June.
The Tour category attracted the biggest number of participants, but windy, foehn conditions on the first few days meant not much flying was possible, and all participants switched to the Fun category whose turnpoint was at Piz Arina.
Four pilots completed the out-and-return by 20 June. There were no prizes, as it was officially an adventure rather than a competition, but Ed was 6th in the rankings, having tagged the Piz Arina turnpoint on day 7.
Here is his report:
The WanderBird Adventure is an eight-day, out-and-back hike-and-fly task starting in Westendorf, Austria, with three possible turnpoints ranging from 300-800km. It is self-supported and designed to allow each pilot to choose their own path.
This year, I was looking for a challenge that felt more like exploration than racing, so when WanderBird announced the Adventure format I signed up and in June I travelled from the UK to Austria with a 15-18kg pack and the aim of reaching the “Tour” 500km turnpoint.
Day one set the tone. Twelve of us met at 7.30am, collected trackers and, after a briefing and some inspiration from Paul Guschlbauer, set off into a forecast dominated by strong north-westerly winds. Three strategies emerged: hike the Innsbruck valley, climb Kreuzjoch, or climb Sonnenjoch and hope for a later flight into the Zillertal. I met Alex and Freek on the Sonnenjoch option, and within hours we formed the team that would shape the first half of my Adventure.
After around 2,500m of ascent, we reached the summit, only to find 40-50kph winds and no realistic launch. Disappointment was high, especially as those who had opted for Kreuzjoch were able to fly down. Instead of flying, we were forced to descend more than 1,800m on foot into the Zillertal valley, finally reaching Stumm just before 10pm after a 45km day. My feet were blistering, morale had taken a hit, and there was nowhere open for food. Still, the three of us had made a strong team, and it was Freek’s birthday the next day.
Day two brought more NW wind and hiking on the road. We walked through Mayrhofen, bought birthday cakes, and pushed on towards the hut at Schlegeisbach, a 40km ascending hike. By midday, my blisters had burst on the soles of my feet, and even with plasters and tape, hiking was painful. Three participants had already dropped out due to injuries, and I wondered how long I could continue. I broke the day into 5km blocks and eventually reached a hut by 8pm, tired but still going.
On day three we crossed into Italy via Pfitscher Joch. The wind was still 40-50kph, but short lulls made launching just possible. I was nervous, I had brought with me a new paraglider, the BGD Tigra, and had not managed to fly it in the UK before the trip. Launching a new wing in strong wind and likely lee-side rotor was not how I envisaged my first flight. The flight in the end was demanding but manageable, and all three of us landed safely in the valley, grateful not to have walked down again. We continued on foot to Sterzing and spent the night there, pleased to have flown at last.
Day four, I felt lighter, maybe my body was getting use to this? We hiked to Jaufenpass, where, unfortunately, high cloud blocked the thermals, so we glided down towards Merano. The flight seemed straightforward until Alex narrowly missed a hard-to-spot power cable on landing, a reminder that even “easy” flights demanded focus. Later, we had lunch in an exclusive wellness spa, looking thoroughly disheveled, we were surprised they let us in, before the three of us squeezed into a glamping caravan for the night. Somehow, it was my best sleep of the trip.
Day five was about patience and hard decisions. The Merano valley held serious landing challenges, for 40km the valley floor is covered by apple orchards, making any landing serious. I was happy to take a slower day, climb to Hochmuth, and wait for better weather, even if others made progress hiking in the valley. That evening Gregor, another adventurer, caught us up at the Mochmuth hut, and we planned for the biggest flying day yet.
Day six promised exceptional XC weather, but the Vinschgau valley had an inversion and moderate north-westerlies at 2,000-3,000m. We followed local pilots to the highest launch, a steep slope where one mistake would send you falling hundreds of metres. Not a launch to mess up! By 10.30 am we were airborne and climbing to 3,200m. For a while the day was on and I was covering distance.
Then the air became increasingly rough. Each spur brought a headwind and lee-side conditions. I got low, spent half an hour surfing close to the trees, clawed back to cloudbase, then lost height on the next crossing. Freek and I ended up low together, unable to climb in a broken wind-swept thermal. I landed just beyond the last apple orchards after 45km, while Alex and Gregor escaped the valley and flew more than 150km. Watching that was hard. The mental side of the Adventure was now hitting as much as the physical.
On day seven Freek and I climbed to a take-off above Reschensee. Thunderstorms were forecast for 2 pm, with a strong south foehn, so the flying window was short. I launched at 11 am, struggled at first, then found a strong thermal that took me above 3,200m. The Piz Arina turnpoint was suddenly in sight. I pushed directly over the high mountains, passing over a col and tagged the turnpoint feeling ecstatic to have reached it by air.
Looking south, I could already see storms building in Italy. My feet were still in a bad way, potential gust fronts were behind me, and the next day’s forecast showed the Inn Valley blocked by storms. That was when my mindset changed. What did this Adventure mean to me? At that moment flying to Piz Arina felt like the accomplishment I had been seeking. I saw Pfunds below, with a good landing field and public transport back to Westendorf, and decided that this was to be the end of my adventure. I glided down, landing with a sense of relief, ending a day early.
After a beer and pizza in Pfunds I took buses and a train back to Westendorf, where most of the adventurers gathered for dinner. Next day we joined the WanderBird Community Hike and Fly day, with most of us deciding to take the cable car. Thermalling together over Westendorf felt so special. We had started as strangers, but after tracking each other, sharing decisions, and living the same weather, challenges and uncertainty, it felt as though we had known each other for years. We celebrated as a team into the evening, sharing our personal journeys.
The WanderBird Adventure was not what I expected. I thought I would spend most of it alone, instead, the friendship with Alex and Freek became central to the journey. I learnt a huge amount about moving fast and light in the Alps, and I’ve come back home feeling like I have unfinished business. I will be back next year, but definitely with a lighter pack!
Photos; Ed Day, Josh Sampiero, Lukas Anziger