Advances in wingsuit technology allow pilots to go farther and faster, with more precision. It's also easier than ever for them to get in over their heads.
Proximity flying—like many of life’s challenging distractions, such as rodeo, fire-eating and meth—is not for everyone. Nor, as I suggest to elite wingsuit flier Ellen Brennan, is it the kind of recreation that anyone is likely to embrace on impulse.“This,” she replies, “is not something you can dabble in. This is not simply a sport. This is a different way of living your life.” We’re standing just below the summit of Mont Blanc, at an elevation of over 12,000 feet. The peaks are wreathed in clouds, and the light snowfall is ruffled by southerly winds—conditions that mean the 26-year-old American is unable to opt, as she often does, for the quick way down. She points out the nearby ledge from which she normally jumps, in a suit cut from light paragliding material that gives her the appearance of a flying squirrel.
“For the first two seconds,” she says, “there is this perfect quiet. That feeling is wonderful. Then you hear the rush of air. You fall for about [250 feet] before the suit inflates and starts flying. The more speed you have, the farther you’re able to glide.” When stepping off a cliff, she says, attention to wind and other climatic factors, some imperceptible to a novice, is vital. “People who don’t pay attention to these things tend to get hurt. And most of them die.”
