Winging It : Hang-Glider Pilots Addicted to Friendly Skies at S.F.’s Ft. Funston

SAN FRANCISCO — A lone gull rides an onshore breeze over the crumbling bluffs of Ft. Funston, gaining altitude without a single flap of a wing as he searches for supper on the shoreline far below.

The same unique updraft that carries the gull on his effortless climb has made the abandoned Army base a favorite among hang-glider fans seeking the perfect breeze the way surfers await the perfect wave.

Such a wind once carried a lucky pilot 23 miles down the coast, past the tranquil village of Half Moon Bay. More commonly, the fliers hover and soar over the two-mile-long fort, part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

On the rare days when the wind isn’t just right, the fliers sit and tell tales of “better air,” speaking in a jargon all their own.

“We get a lot of days here when it’s just really glassy air, kind of like a calm lake surface. It’s really sweet. You can fly around with a minimum of effort for correcting bumps,” enthusiast Jay Busby said recently.

Busby is among those who consider it a compliment to be called a “gliderholic.”

“I’m out here seven days a week,” he said without shame.

Busby has an excuse. His devotion has won him the presidency of Fellow Feathers, the club that regulates, maintains and supervises the Ft. Funston site.

“For a lot of these pilots, once you hang-glide . . . it’s hard to think of anything else. You could call us fanatics, and I don’t think most people would mind,” he said. “It makes changes. Girlfriends change, marriages change, jobs change. Right now, I don’t mind not having a job because it gives me more time to fly.”

Alan Sakayama, a 30-year-old computer operator who claims to have moved to the area from New Jersey just to fly at Funston, says hang-gliding has taken over his life.

“For people who really get into it, it just sort of wrecks your life. You just can’t concentrate on anything else,” he said. “Once you’re hooked, it sort of stops everything else.

“I always did a lot of skiing and dirt-bike riding. Now, I don’t see old friends anymore.”

Busby said most of his Fellow Feathers are that devoted.

“We lost a few,” he said. “People get married--that’s a big reason. But those are usually your less serious pilots. If they’re more serious pilots, they marry another pilot.”

The club sold 450 permits to fly at Funston this year; only about a dozen went to women. Most buyers are among the 700 registered U.S. Hang Gliding Assn. members in the San Francisco area. The association has about 6,700 members nationwide, meaning one in 15 holds a Funston permit.

“Ft. Funston is known in the hang-gliding world. You say ‘Funston’ to somebody, they know what you’re talking about,” the president said.

What they know is that Funston is a sort of hang-gliding heaven where you can be lifted off a scenic bluff, fly as long as you wish and gently set down just a few feet from where you launched.

“At a lot of sites, like mountain sites, you can’t stay up as long as you want unless conditions are just perfect. You launch and you know that with no lift, you’ve got 10 minutes,” Busby said. He explained that the kite-like craft normally drops about one foot for each 10 or 11 feet of flight.

“But here, if it’s a decent day, most of the time you’re not limited.”

Three-Quarters of a Mile

When the winds are just right, you can climb to 4,000 feet from the 200-foot bluff--high enough to “speck out,” or become a mere speck to those watching from below.

There are a lot of phrases like that floating around with the bird men. Air can be smooth, textured, prime or full of holes. If you stay at the rising center of a thermal, you’ve got it cored. If you don’t, you get spit out. If the top of your glider kisses the ground when you land, that’s a beak.