I like the whole self-sufficiency part of the deal. It's a great feeling knowing that you're ready to handle whatever the world can throw at you, engine out or otherwise.

I spent a lot of time sailing when I was younger, and got to enjoying the idea and finesse of handling a craft whose only motive power is the wind. That and you could pack enough food and supplies into a sailboat to go on as long a trip as you want.

I'm hoping that some day I'll take the steps in the right direction and start flying some gliders, a motorglider trek over the country with flexible landing breakss would be quite a trip, especially with the right lady in the passenger seat. I think I remember seeing large motorgliders with over a 40-1 glide ratio, but somehow my old bookmarks got lost. It was one of the models that had a small engine fold upwards from behind the passenger compartment.

Another thing that gets me about flying is the reality of the thing. You're putting your trust into a few mm of composite (in the case of a modern glider) versus the forces of lift and drag. It's up to you to make sure your engine is in working order, that there aren't any delaminations in the structure, the computer is in check, etc. That's real excitement, and an accomplishment that I have yet to experience on my own.

Kind of like the third video on Ayn Rand you have linked below. What got me about that were the pictures of the bridge builders walking on the wire cables and also train engineer jostling around in the cabin, sticking his head out the window at speed, and realizing that it's all in his hands.

Last I recall, the Swift Light runs about $25k, or thereabouts. Pure flex-wing hang-gliders range $4-$7k (beginner to advanced) and the rigid-wing hang-gliders (composite leading edge and ribs) are going for about $12-$15k.

The photo you linked is, of course, the Swift with the motorized option. At any rate, yes, these sorts of craft were originally conceived as mountain-flying vehicles. Most of my own flying has been in the mountains, and yes, rotor, caused by winds moving over the terrain, is a major concern. But it's generally manageable if you know what you're doing, and never panic.

Nowadays, since the advent of towing via ultralights (for both hang-gliders and light sailplanes), lots of flying is done in the flat lands and virtually all of the distance records are set over the flats. Lift is just more consistent and predictable. In the mountains, you get huge lift, but also massive sink and you can get flushed very easily and it's over. Time to land.

Side note. When I was taking powered lessons, all the engine-out drills were a cinch, and in fact, the first time, the instructor actually let me keep going with the setup and approach to a nice field far longer then normal, before bringing on power. Later, he said it was because I was teaching him things. I was no-shit ready, able, and willing to land that thing in the field. I was convincing, and the instructor percieved that.

It's amazing how fear vs. no fear makes a huge difference. I've landed in fields several hundred times. It's no big deal to me, and that fact that we're talking about an airplane and not a glider is not an essential part of the whole equation.

I've got stick time in sailplanes, too, and I really want to do more. Hang-gliders, depending on performance, get 12-1 to 17-1 glide. Your average sailplane gets 40-1. You would be astounded how far you can glide with a few thousand feet under you, and of course, this greatly increases the chances that you're going to find lift.

What gets me are pictures (http://www.aeriane.com/images/IMG_1077.JPG) showing these small craft flying through mountains. I can imagine that would be very unpredictable and rough flying with the wind whipping over the elevated ground.