Looking like big birds from a distance, what many people actually saw was Mike Theriault and his cousin Brian Thompson flying powered paragliders.

The pair use 40 foot paragliders, which are like rectangular parachutes, with the equivalent of lawnmowers strapped to their backs. The engines they are harnessed to give them the propulsion they need to take off from a flat surface and climb high into the sky.

The rigs are perhaps not as pretty as hot air balloons, but they're definitely more adaptable to various weather conditions.  On a recent flight Thompson and Theriault took from Auburn-Lewiston Airport, the wind was blowing hard enough to mess up a style hairdo.

Within minutes the pair were nearly 1,000 feet overhead enjoying the view of a sunset that soaked the sky with red, orange, yellow and purple tones. In the air they communicate via two-way radios and synchronize their flight, sometimes getting as close as 30 feet from each other.  If the two wings tangle, the men would plunge to the ground like birds hit by a shotgun blast.
 

Once they got their packs off they couldn't stop talking about the sunset and the views of the mountains to the west.  "It totally clears my mind of everything else except flying and the beauty of Mother Nature," Theriault said."  There's a lot of different variables, but all I know is it's fun."

Flying can be achieved in a number of different ways.  Powered paragliding is simply the method of choice for Theriault and Thompson.

Setting up for a flight takes about half-hour, perhaps longer if you are a newcomer. Essentially, preparation involves connecting the engine and glider, putting on safety gear, climbing into the harness, starting the engine, giving the glider a yank until it fills with air overhead, hitting the throttle and running like crazy.  In about 10 steps you'll be climbing toward the clouds.

Oftentimes, the rigs are mistaken for powered parachutes.  Each is a pendulumlike form of flight, but the difference is powered parachuters sit down in a go-cartlike vehicle, while Thompson and Theriault use their legs to take off and land.

The sport is so new Theriault is considered a veteran after only a year flying.  Thompson bought his gear at the beginning of July. He's been flying for less than two months.

Thompson paid for his paraglider, motor and the two weeks lessons it took to get off the ground all at once. An entire set-up costs between $7,000 and $8,000.

Despite his newcomer status, Thompson looks nearly as graceful as Theriault in the air.
 

Both Theriault and Thompson took their lessons from Eric Dufour, the owner of Paratour, a Quebec company that sells and services motorized paragliders and offers training.

The two man couldn't be more normal when they are on the ground. Each is early 30s and has a family and a regular job. In the air they are like kids at play.  They love their sport. "There's nothing else like it," Theriault says.  "We're just up there for the view and the excitement of flying."

Theriault paraglided without a motor for three years.  He used to take his 20-pounds wing up a mountain, wait for the perfect wind and jump off.  He said he didn't like the time it took to get the top of mountains or the leap of faith required to get in the air.  And if the wind didn't work out he would have to walk down the mountain without ever getting off the ground.  Now with powered flights, Theriault can drive to the L-A airport after supper, take off from flat ground and be back at his Poland home before dark.  The complete silence of the non-powered flight is something Theriault misses, but motorized flights is just too convenient to pass up, he says.

Thompson, a postal worker, is from Bethlehem, N.H., and often flies out of the Whitefield airport, which is near the base of mount Washington.