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The following is a letter from Glen and Rita Chapman, missionaries to the people of Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), received in early November. Glen has been using a powered parachute to reach area villages that are difficult to access over land routes. He uses the machine to transport himself and his video equipment so he can share the good news of Jesus Christ as well as health information and educational programming.
To support the Chapman’s in their ministry in DRC, click here and scroll down until you find their name.
Dear Friends,
I accomplished two trips to Mamvula this week. The first by bicycle, and the second by Powered Parachute.
I rose early on Wednesday so that I could cross the Wamba river on the canoe that brings the high school students from the other side. When I reached the river, the canoe was just approaching my side full of students in white and blue uniforms. I timed that well, and was ferried across right away. I pushed my bicycle up the steep hill on the other side and then took the short cut across the grassland.
There was lots of dew on the elephant grass, but I didn't mind my clothes getting wet. Soon the sun would be hot and the wetness would feel refreshing. After crossing the wide grassland, I arrived at the Konzi river. I had to holler for the boat man who was down river checking his nets. It only takes a minute or two to cross the Konzi river. The boat man was busy swatting Tse-Tse flies, so I didn't want to hang around long down there. There is no direct road to Mamvula. I had to push my bicycle out of the Konzi valley where there was another trail that runs parallel to the valley. I had to cross a couple of smaller streams before Mamvula. One of the valleys was very steep; almost straight up and down. Holding onto the bicycle, it was hard to keep from sliding down the hill. The last stream before Mamvula looked so refreshing so, since there wasn't anyone around, I jumped in and cooled off. It took three and a half hours from Kikongo to Mamvula. I crossed two rivers by canoe, and two smaller streams with log bridges.
The people of Mamvula were surprised to see me since I have never been there before. In fact, no foreigner has been in the area in years. There is no road, just trails. Even so, there is a full primary and secondary school. I know the principal since he is from the Kikongo area, but I was surprised and disappointed to find him already drunk before noon. I drew quite a crowd of students and teachers eager to find out why I was there. I explained that I intended to come with the audio-visual equipment, but I needed to check out their soccer field first. Corner to corner, it passed the 100 meter minimum, but the field was overgrown. Their soccer ball had worn out so no one was using the field. I promised them a soccer ball to give them incentive to work on clearing the field. The sixth year students were preparing a visit from the school inspector, but did not have their passport pictures. Some roving photographer had taken their pictures and the money and never returned. I had my digital camera, so was able to take some passport photos for them.
The clouds were beginning to build up so I insisted I needed to be on my way home. I was advised to take a different route in order to avoid the steep hill. The detour turned out to add an hour and a half to my return time, so it took me 5 hours to get home.
My plan was to fly to Mamvula during the weekend sometime. I had told the people to expect me at the earliest on Friday. If not Friday, look for me Saturday morning. On Friday afternoon, I spoke to an MAF pilot flying in the area. He gave me a weather report that I liked, so late in the afternoon, when the winds had calmed down, I flew the nine miles to Mamvula. I estimated that with calm skies, it would take me 20 minutes. I had a bit of a headwind, so it took me 25, but the sky was smooth. I had left the village with some tape from an old VHS video. This makes a good wind direction indicator. They also put up some white cloth bandage as a streamer. The problem with their streamer, though, was that it was stiff and did not reflect the wind direction or strength. It gave me a false reading on how to approach the soccer field for a landing. As I lined up, I noticed I was drifting to one side, so I had to change the direction of my approach. On these soccer fields, the trick is to clear the trees, and get down fast enough to not overrun the field. I was able to land with room to spare, yet thankful that the students had cleared the elephant grass as I had instructed.
The teachers provided good security and assistance around the machine. The people were all around the machine and the chute, but no one was touching anything. We had to work fast before dark to get all the equipment secured and the sheet up on the field for projecting.
As it got dark, the pastor apologized to me that there was nothing to eat yet. There was no local store and it had taken them until late in the day to find someone with a chicken to sell. Instead of waiting for the food to be cooked, I insisted we go ahead and begin the program. I told the pastor that I didn't come to Mamvula for earthly food, but to share spiritual food. After we set up all the equipment, I projected some modern Congolese Christian music, the HIV/AIDS video, and some "Planet Earth" clips. They really liked the Shallow Seas episode because of all the colorful fish in the coral seas. Seeing fish under water is a completely different vantage point. After that, I showed the two hour version of the JESUS film in Gimbala, ending with the prayer to receive Christ. The soccer field was full with people from five or six villages. Those from the surrounding villages had to walk back several miles without the benefit of the light of the moon. After we were done projecting, the young men said they were not tired and wanted to see more music. I told them that I appreciated the respectful crowd and that I would come back again sometime. After 11 PM, I finally had my supper of chicken fixed in palm oil.
This is November, the month when there is typically lots of rain. The village is called "Mamvula", which means "the rains". I thought that I needed to depart when the opportunity was favorable rather than plan to be there for a long time. I wanted to leave at first light if the opportunity was there, but it began thundering during the night and by morning it was raining. The rain stopped around 7, so the pastor told me he was going to ring the chapel bell and I was to give the message. Another storm was approaching, however, so he decided not to assemble everyone in a leaky church building. When the rain stopped, people began arriving to take a look at the flying machine. The sky appeared to be clearing, so I began to load up my equipment and prepare for departure.
“You can't leave now,” I was told. “We haven't eaten yet.” So I stopped my work to sit down to some re-heated chicken. The one store several villages away did not have sugar or coffee.
When I was finished with my meal, I noticed that the wind had picked up considerably, but it was in a good direction. I finished loading everything, did my preflight checks, and positioned the machine so that I would be directly into the line of the wind. I then set up a flag at the place in the field which would be my no-go point. If I reached the flag, and I was not airborne, I would cut power and have enough room to safely stop. I laid out my chute and had all the young men hold up the leading edge. I then asked the pastor to pray, placing my trip in God's hands. Prayer said, and everyone instructed about the takeoff procedure, I buckled myself in and took one more look at the wind direction. I pushed the throttle to full power. As I did this, the chute began to inflate from the wind of the propeller.
At this point, the cart cannot move forward because of all the backward pressure on the chute. As the chute has nowhere to go but up, as it rises, drag is reduced and the cart begins to move forward. I backed off on the power just a little bit so that I wouldn't take off before I was ready. A quick glance up on either side to see that the chute was stable and the end cells had inflated convinced me that I could move ahead to full power again. As the wind caught the fully formed wing, I took off like a jet. I noticed the white flag pass below me and cleared the mango tree on the right of the field. At full power, I could feel the effect of the engine torque which pulls to the left. I thought that by keeping the mango tree on the right of my trajectory, I would get past it because of the effect of the torque would be pulling me away from it. My takeoff was just as I had hoped it would be.
As I rose a couple of hundred feet and went back over the village in the direction of Kikongo, I realized I was in for a bumpy ride. Instead of traveling at a ground speed of about 30 MPH, I was slowed down to about 15, and sometimes it would seem like I had stopped in midair. A glance at my GPS would show a speed in the order of 10 mph. I did the math and did not like the numbers I was coming up with. I considered turning around and landing back at Mamvula, but Kikongo was only 9 miles away. Even with a strong headwind, I had plenty of fuel to reach Kikongo. I poked around at different altitudes to see where I could find the best forward speed. I finally settled for about 400 ft., not that I had the best forward speed, but it was just a little bit smoother, or I should say less bumpy.
I was getting blown around and it was uncomfortable, but I was always in control of the machine. I had to watch the down drafts and keep the chute directly into the wind. It was like being on a boat in the ocean. The problem is that I am a real weakling when it comes to motion sickness on the ocean. I usually do fine in the air, since flying is so fascinating.
So my flight to Kikongo was a lot of work. When I arrived back on our side of the river and looked at the wind sock, I knew I had another problem. The wind was perpendicular to the strip. I thought I could land on the wide part of the airstrip in front of the house, so I began an approach, working to get the proper glide slope. I didn't have much margin of error because of all the trees. I got caught in an updraft which messed me up, so I went to full power and shot up like a rocket clearing any danger. I circled around reading the wind direction, considering where a better landing place might be. I considered the Kikongo soccer field, but the trees we have planted around it have done real well. Not a good option for all the gusty conditions. So, I came around again over the airstrip crabbing into the wind and managing to keep myself over the grassy strip. By this time, all the Kikongo kids were at the airstrip to see how I was going to get down. The landing wasn't pretty. I had to steer hard in one direction, then another. This caused me to lose some of my forward airspeed, so I came down pretty hard I think on two wheels. I ended up right in the center of the airstrip, and the chute was neatly centered behind me, which is always an indication of a decent landing. The machine is no worse for the wear, and my fragile video equipment hasn't been affected.
All the station kids came running to where I had come down. They saw how I had been rocking around overhead and I think were more concerned about the video equipment surviving than the pilot. It was after I unstrapped myself that I noticed how sick I felt; I was really nauseous. The rest of the day I didn't want to see anything moving. The flying was a great experience. One thing I learned is that the machine can tolerate way more turbulence than I can.
It took me 45 minutes to return, compared to 25 minutes the day before. In no wind, it would be about 20 minutes. Oh well, the bike ride took five hours one way. So even in a strong headwind, I could still do the flight six times faster than by bicycle, and I am a better cyclist than aviator!
So, that was my adventure to Mamvula. I am feeling fine a day later, but I am not very eager to jump into that amazing flying machine just yet.
Thanks for your prayers for my trips, and thank you for your prayers for the people of Mamvula.
Sincerely,
Glen and Rita Chapman
A 9-minute video of Glen Chapman flying his powered parachute may be borrowed by phoning International Ministries at 1-800-222-3872, extension 2178, or by e-mail: Ron.Schlosser@abc-usa.org
To support the Chapman’s in their ministry in DRC, click here and scroll down until you find their name.
Dear Friends,
I accomplished two trips to Mamvula this week. The first by bicycle, and the second by Powered Parachute.
I rose early on Wednesday so that I could cross the Wamba river on the canoe that brings the high school students from the other side. When I reached the river, the canoe was just approaching my side full of students in white and blue uniforms. I timed that well, and was ferried across right away. I pushed my bicycle up the steep hill on the other side and then took the short cut across the grassland.
There was lots of dew on the elephant grass, but I didn't mind my clothes getting wet. Soon the sun would be hot and the wetness would feel refreshing. After crossing the wide grassland, I arrived at the Konzi river. I had to holler for the boat man who was down river checking his nets. It only takes a minute or two to cross the Konzi river. The boat man was busy swatting Tse-Tse flies, so I didn't want to hang around long down there. There is no direct road to Mamvula. I had to push my bicycle out of the Konzi valley where there was another trail that runs parallel to the valley. I had to cross a couple of smaller streams before Mamvula. One of the valleys was very steep; almost straight up and down. Holding onto the bicycle, it was hard to keep from sliding down the hill. The last stream before Mamvula looked so refreshing so, since there wasn't anyone around, I jumped in and cooled off. It took three and a half hours from Kikongo to Mamvula. I crossed two rivers by canoe, and two smaller streams with log bridges.
The people of Mamvula were surprised to see me since I have never been there before. In fact, no foreigner has been in the area in years. There is no road, just trails. Even so, there is a full primary and secondary school. I know the principal since he is from the Kikongo area, but I was surprised and disappointed to find him already drunk before noon. I drew quite a crowd of students and teachers eager to find out why I was there. I explained that I intended to come with the audio-visual equipment, but I needed to check out their soccer field first. Corner to corner, it passed the 100 meter minimum, but the field was overgrown. Their soccer ball had worn out so no one was using the field. I promised them a soccer ball to give them incentive to work on clearing the field. The sixth year students were preparing a visit from the school inspector, but did not have their passport pictures. Some roving photographer had taken their pictures and the money and never returned. I had my digital camera, so was able to take some passport photos for them.
The clouds were beginning to build up so I insisted I needed to be on my way home. I was advised to take a different route in order to avoid the steep hill. The detour turned out to add an hour and a half to my return time, so it took me 5 hours to get home.
My plan was to fly to Mamvula during the weekend sometime. I had told the people to expect me at the earliest on Friday. If not Friday, look for me Saturday morning. On Friday afternoon, I spoke to an MAF pilot flying in the area. He gave me a weather report that I liked, so late in the afternoon, when the winds had calmed down, I flew the nine miles to Mamvula. I estimated that with calm skies, it would take me 20 minutes. I had a bit of a headwind, so it took me 25, but the sky was smooth. I had left the village with some tape from an old VHS video. This makes a good wind direction indicator. They also put up some white cloth bandage as a streamer. The problem with their streamer, though, was that it was stiff and did not reflect the wind direction or strength. It gave me a false reading on how to approach the soccer field for a landing. As I lined up, I noticed I was drifting to one side, so I had to change the direction of my approach. On these soccer fields, the trick is to clear the trees, and get down fast enough to not overrun the field. I was able to land with room to spare, yet thankful that the students had cleared the elephant grass as I had instructed.
The teachers provided good security and assistance around the machine. The people were all around the machine and the chute, but no one was touching anything. We had to work fast before dark to get all the equipment secured and the sheet up on the field for projecting.
As it got dark, the pastor apologized to me that there was nothing to eat yet. There was no local store and it had taken them until late in the day to find someone with a chicken to sell. Instead of waiting for the food to be cooked, I insisted we go ahead and begin the program. I told the pastor that I didn't come to Mamvula for earthly food, but to share spiritual food. After we set up all the equipment, I projected some modern Congolese Christian music, the HIV/AIDS video, and some "Planet Earth" clips. They really liked the Shallow Seas episode because of all the colorful fish in the coral seas. Seeing fish under water is a completely different vantage point. After that, I showed the two hour version of the JESUS film in Gimbala, ending with the prayer to receive Christ. The soccer field was full with people from five or six villages. Those from the surrounding villages had to walk back several miles without the benefit of the light of the moon. After we were done projecting, the young men said they were not tired and wanted to see more music. I told them that I appreciated the respectful crowd and that I would come back again sometime. After 11 PM, I finally had my supper of chicken fixed in palm oil.
This is November, the month when there is typically lots of rain. The village is called "Mamvula", which means "the rains". I thought that I needed to depart when the opportunity was favorable rather than plan to be there for a long time. I wanted to leave at first light if the opportunity was there, but it began thundering during the night and by morning it was raining. The rain stopped around 7, so the pastor told me he was going to ring the chapel bell and I was to give the message. Another storm was approaching, however, so he decided not to assemble everyone in a leaky church building. When the rain stopped, people began arriving to take a look at the flying machine. The sky appeared to be clearing, so I began to load up my equipment and prepare for departure.
“You can't leave now,” I was told. “We haven't eaten yet.” So I stopped my work to sit down to some re-heated chicken. The one store several villages away did not have sugar or coffee.
When I was finished with my meal, I noticed that the wind had picked up considerably, but it was in a good direction. I finished loading everything, did my preflight checks, and positioned the machine so that I would be directly into the line of the wind. I then set up a flag at the place in the field which would be my no-go point. If I reached the flag, and I was not airborne, I would cut power and have enough room to safely stop. I laid out my chute and had all the young men hold up the leading edge. I then asked the pastor to pray, placing my trip in God's hands. Prayer said, and everyone instructed about the takeoff procedure, I buckled myself in and took one more look at the wind direction. I pushed the throttle to full power. As I did this, the chute began to inflate from the wind of the propeller.
At this point, the cart cannot move forward because of all the backward pressure on the chute. As the chute has nowhere to go but up, as it rises, drag is reduced and the cart begins to move forward. I backed off on the power just a little bit so that I wouldn't take off before I was ready. A quick glance up on either side to see that the chute was stable and the end cells had inflated convinced me that I could move ahead to full power again. As the wind caught the fully formed wing, I took off like a jet. I noticed the white flag pass below me and cleared the mango tree on the right of the field. At full power, I could feel the effect of the engine torque which pulls to the left. I thought that by keeping the mango tree on the right of my trajectory, I would get past it because of the effect of the torque would be pulling me away from it. My takeoff was just as I had hoped it would be.
As I rose a couple of hundred feet and went back over the village in the direction of Kikongo, I realized I was in for a bumpy ride. Instead of traveling at a ground speed of about 30 MPH, I was slowed down to about 15, and sometimes it would seem like I had stopped in midair. A glance at my GPS would show a speed in the order of 10 mph. I did the math and did not like the numbers I was coming up with. I considered turning around and landing back at Mamvula, but Kikongo was only 9 miles away. Even with a strong headwind, I had plenty of fuel to reach Kikongo. I poked around at different altitudes to see where I could find the best forward speed. I finally settled for about 400 ft., not that I had the best forward speed, but it was just a little bit smoother, or I should say less bumpy.
I was getting blown around and it was uncomfortable, but I was always in control of the machine. I had to watch the down drafts and keep the chute directly into the wind. It was like being on a boat in the ocean. The problem is that I am a real weakling when it comes to motion sickness on the ocean. I usually do fine in the air, since flying is so fascinating.
So my flight to Kikongo was a lot of work. When I arrived back on our side of the river and looked at the wind sock, I knew I had another problem. The wind was perpendicular to the strip. I thought I could land on the wide part of the airstrip in front of the house, so I began an approach, working to get the proper glide slope. I didn't have much margin of error because of all the trees. I got caught in an updraft which messed me up, so I went to full power and shot up like a rocket clearing any danger. I circled around reading the wind direction, considering where a better landing place might be. I considered the Kikongo soccer field, but the trees we have planted around it have done real well. Not a good option for all the gusty conditions. So, I came around again over the airstrip crabbing into the wind and managing to keep myself over the grassy strip. By this time, all the Kikongo kids were at the airstrip to see how I was going to get down. The landing wasn't pretty. I had to steer hard in one direction, then another. This caused me to lose some of my forward airspeed, so I came down pretty hard I think on two wheels. I ended up right in the center of the airstrip, and the chute was neatly centered behind me, which is always an indication of a decent landing. The machine is no worse for the wear, and my fragile video equipment hasn't been affected.
All the station kids came running to where I had come down. They saw how I had been rocking around overhead and I think were more concerned about the video equipment surviving than the pilot. It was after I unstrapped myself that I noticed how sick I felt; I was really nauseous. The rest of the day I didn't want to see anything moving. The flying was a great experience. One thing I learned is that the machine can tolerate way more turbulence than I can.
It took me 45 minutes to return, compared to 25 minutes the day before. In no wind, it would be about 20 minutes. Oh well, the bike ride took five hours one way. So even in a strong headwind, I could still do the flight six times faster than by bicycle, and I am a better cyclist than aviator!
So, that was my adventure to Mamvula. I am feeling fine a day later, but I am not very eager to jump into that amazing flying machine just yet.
Thanks for your prayers for my trips, and thank you for your prayers for the people of Mamvula.
Sincerely,
Glen and Rita Chapman
A 9-minute video of Glen Chapman flying his powered parachute may be borrowed by phoning International Ministries at 1-800-222-3872, extension 2178, or by e-mail: Ron.Schlosser@abc-usa.org

