Winnipeg Free Press
 (Manitoba, Canada)
 TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1997
 by Bill Redekop
 Staff Reporter
 
Motorized parachute flying machine 'total magic' excited enthusiast says
Reimer says the view is 'spectacular'. His $8,000 motorized parachute can get to 3,000 meters.  So far, he has logged 82 flights and 25 hours in Manitoba since he obtained his flying license last year in Quebec.
 
ST-LUPICIN - What the... heck is that?  

The reaction of folk and fauna alike are often amusing when Dan Reimer flies overhead.  Reimer says dogs and horses stare the hole time, their heads following him across the sky.  Cows get scared until they get used to him and they ignore him.  Deer will run five seconds and freeze.  Birds just move over like he's no big deal.

And people?  "It's a huge rubber-necker," he says with a laugh.  "They just stop.  They've never seen anything like it."  In fact, the first time Reimer flew his motorized parachute over the nearby town of Notre Dame de Lourdes, it touched off a small argument in the coffee shop.  Was it a light aircraft, a parachutist fallen from a plane or a hang-glider?

None of the above.  It was Dan Reimer and his amazing flying machine, the first of it's kind in Manitoba


Reimer, 39, has been flying the motorized parachute since last fall, using technology developed in Europe about five years ago.

The contraption is Daedalian in it's simplicity:  A water-pump motor, a large fan strapped to Reimer's lower back, a light cushion seat, hand controls and a nylon parachute.

In the ancient Greek myth, Daedalus and son Icarus flee the Labyrinth of Crete on waxed wings, which eventually melt under the sun's rays.

Reimer's vehicle, which is like someone attaching an egg-beater, to a bathtub and calling it a boat, is made from higher-tech materials. And it works.  It's assembled and in the air within 15 minutes.  Reimer cranks up the motor like starting a lawnmower.  As the light breeze lift his parachute, he runs five paces and suddenly his feet leave the ground.

 

No airport, no runway.  Just a neighbosr' farm field.  He can soar 3,000 meters above the ground, nearly the ceiling of a Cessna aircraft.  "I can easily go up to cloud space," he says.  "The view is spectacular. " There are amazing things in this world, and then there are truly amazing things.  Watching Reimer fly falls into the latter category.  "The moment of liftoff is like nothing I've ever done before, and I've done some crazy things in my life.  It's total magic," he says.

The hardest part for engineers was designing the parachute, or wings as they are technically called.  The chute is sectioned into tubes allowing air to flow through the top where it becomes trapped and forms a pressurized canopy.  The fan doesn't push the chute, but rather, pushes him.  That creates the angle at which the parachute takes in air.  At full throttle, he sits and less than 90-degree angle between him and the front of the parachute.

If he cuts out the engine, his body swings back and creates an angle where the wings will gently take him down.  Touchdowns are as soft as jumping off a single stair.  For brakes, he pulls down the back outside quarter of the chute, creating drag to slow down and lose lift.

When he is done, the entire machine folds up to the size of a large suitcase.  "I can put it in my Volkswagen trunk.  I could put two of them in there," he says.

The cost is still fairly steep at $8,000 but the product is still brand new.  It's certainly cheaper than a light aircraft, you don't have to pay to store it, and you can take off wherever you want.  "It's the simplest, easiest, safest way to fly," he says.  "You're always below your parachute, so it's safer than a hang glider."


Around Winnipeg, he could fly out of LaBarriere Park just south of the Perimeter but can't take off from city parks because light aircraft regulation apply.  On the prairie, the flat landscape means straight winds that are ideal and safest for the powered parachute, he says.

Reimer has logged 82 flights and 25 hours in Manitoba since obtaining his flying licence last fall in Quebec city, the only place in Canada he could get his training.  He's also taken it on vacations, flying over Tamps Bay and Caribbean beaches.

He's flown in winter.  "It's very interesting flying during winter because the air is so much denser," he says. "The wings inflate quicker, and you get better lift."

He'll drop in - literally - on friends on a summer evening.  "I fly over Burt's and I fly over Doug's for coffee.  People around here think I'm crazy.  " In this tiny hamlet of alternate lifestyle rebels, some friends have dubbed him Fan Ass Dan.

He's used his flying machine for search-and-rescue attempts, something he says the contraption is ideal for.  A farmer in the area is interested in learning to fly one because it's the best way to tell where crops aren't germinating.

It travels up to 25 kilometers an hour and a full gas tank is enough to last about three hours.

 

 
Reimer hopes to be the first person to fly one across Manitoba, with someone following him in a vehicle so he can refill his tank.

He wears a bicycle helmet but doesn't carry a reserve parachute unless he's flying over mountainous terrain that can make winds tricky.

Powered parachutists regularly watch birds to see what the wind is doing.  It's a great rush to find a thermal air spiral, sort of like a dust devil, and shoot up it to higher height.  For that, enthusiasts follow hawks.  "Hawks go to them because they're kind of lazy and they heat bugs that get caught inside."  Birds also lead parachutists to ridges of air to float in.

The drawback is the machines shouldn't be flown in winds of more than 20 kilometres an hour. So Reimer flies mostly in the morning or evening.

He is the only authorized distributor of the machines for Paramotor in Manitoba.  A catch is no one in the province is a trained instructor.  But an instructor will be in Manitoba in late summer for a week or so.  Interested flyers can contact Reimer in St-Lupicin.  Reimer is also halfway to getting his instructor licence and expects to be training flyers next summer.

Reimer has never crashed, and has heard of few fatalities.  Two parachutists drowned trying to cross the sea of Japan, but they ran out of fuel and didn't have a rescue crew following them by boat.  "It will scare some people," he cautions, adding that a certain amount of strength and fitness helps.

"Flying is unnatural.  I don't say it's inherently safe.  You can't take flying for granted.  People do, and they get killed."