Paragliding the Matterhorn: Startup to Landing

Northern Italy (ATP Finals Trip - Part 2)

Landed in Venice, the city of water.

 With ferries, I got as far West as to overlook the edge of the Adriatic Sea.

A very historic city, I wanted to witness the land of Marco Polo and complete his reverse route through Northern Italy by heading West (Part 1).

I rode the Le Frecce high-speed train to Milan for the ATP NextGen Finals - Travel Photos.

ATP NextGen Milan

That pitstop at ATP NextGen in Milan was showcasing the top young stars (aged 21 and younger). Serendipitously, I met up with the mom of our hometown San Diego Open champion Brandon Nakashima! My mother was also born in Vietnam originally.

I stayed a couple days to see the famous Domo and Last Supper. Milan is a very fashionable and hipster-friendly city

The ATP NextGen Arena location itself looked like a large indoor high school gymnasium. Lots of Italian kids and families. Fans enjoyed the flashy light and sound show. It's the junior version of the ATP Finals event.  He concluded the season by winning the tournament, beating several top players along the way.

A couple of days left before arriving for the ATP Finals in Turin...I still needed to decide where to go next. My eyes scanned the map and the weather forecast.

In that region's shoulder season, November is typically known for rain and cold weather. Not yet cold enough for snow, yet too cool for most fairweather tourists.

Enter Hemingway - Stresa, Italy on 11/11 @ 11AM

From the Stresa central train station, I made my way to an AirBnB real (modernized) Italian castle with the original exterior on 11/11 - Armistice Day. It was the day when the guns fell silent at the end of World War 1.

Overlooking the island, I spent the night across Isla Bela. It was near the hotel viewpoint where Ernest Hemingway wrote "Farewell to Arms". With no car, I decided to cover the entire area on foot. Its downhill roads weren't designed with sidewalks in mind.

The following day I decided that instead of going South back to Milan again, I would detour North towards Switzerland. Near the Italian/Swiss border was a lifetime bucket list.

The Mountain peak in the Swiss Alps called the Matterhorn was pinned with a heart. Like a siren beckoning me on my Google Maps, it called out: Matterhorn!

Paragliding for the 1st time. Soaring through Zermatt.

Mapping and Mountaineering

"No matter what you do, building a start-up will be a very challenging journey…if you don’t start with enough passion, you won’t get to the other side. If you don’t fall in love with the problem, you simply will not be able to get through the journey.” 

- Uri Levine (Co-Founder of Waze) "Fall in Love with the Problem" (2023)

The key luck factor was the weather forecast. It was nothing short of a miracle in November to get clear skies and 50s a high temperature! With just a short 48-hour window, it was now or never. Time to go for it.

Eagle's Nest

I booked a last-minute little AirBnB. One only crazy backpackers (or last-minute cowboys like me) would even consider. With this once-in-a-lifetime chance, the detour is the adventure. The Obstacle is the Way.

This began the first leg of many to reach Zermatt (basecamp for the Matterhorn). Several trains, buses, shuttles, and 2 lifts later - I would reach snow. The start of a long hike to reach the final jump point.

Lost in Translation

At Stresa's main train station, nobody was working at 6:30 AM. I had to rely on using the automated Italian train ticket machine. I typed in my destination, "ZERMATT." The error screen flashed back "No route found". I tried several times again with the same result: "No route found." Uh oh.

I pulled up Google Maps again and saw I'd have to make a few transfers. Maybe this system would only take me halfway? Reaching Zermatt would take a few different national transportation systems (an Italian Train, then a Swiss Train). I ate a quick Italian cafe breakfast sandwich, then waited outside.

It had two platforms - A and B.

15 minutes left. Still no staff working yet inside the station. Nobody was even inside the window counter. So I go outside seeking assistance from one of the other passengers who would likely know. I found one Italian lady also waiting. She stood confident, posed like a regular daily rider.

Me: Excusi. This train? To Brig? (pointing to Google Translate)
Her: "Brig? No, you need to take the other platform..."

She pointed me to go to the other side.

Unfortunately, that "other platform" was for regional trains only. My 30 Euro ticket was supposed to be the express one. But because of common rail delays (I was told), it would be running 15 minutes behind schedule that morning. This is where things start going South.

So I even check the printed train schedule on the sign post. It listed train's arrival at Stresa with the departure times. The difference was only 4 minutes off from the ticket's actual time. Close enough, or so I thought...

Getting on the Wrong Train

So the Platform B train arrived. I hopped on. Immediately I should have noticed something was wrong. The creeky rail car doors were so old it barely even slid wide open as one rider tried getting off. Inside, the car was nearly empty. Dusty windows, like those from an old black and white movie.

Leaving my bags there, I headed to the front of the train for help. I don't see anyone. I needed to get off! Maybe I could still run back to the station and get back in time? With my luggage too? No way.

Hopping forward, the train's next adjacent 4-5 cars were equally vacant. I slid open cart doors, one after another. All identical. Empty. With a knot in my stomach, I quickly realized that this was the regional train! It would require at least 8 more stops to go. Definitely missing my transfer in 30 minutes.

Upon reaching the first rail car, I found an elderly gentleman who spoke English. He put down his newspaper and kindly explained the train I should have been on was platform A. He looked at his watch - yes it should be passing us soon.

There, he pointed at the much newer, much faster, speeding white blur that was my train overtaking us. I thought the tortoise always wins?

My best option was to stay on until the main station.
I could rebook once I arrived at the main junction town of Domodossola.

Accepting my fate, I sat back down and enjoyed all the little towns and cows along the way.

Switzerland's Ride to Ski Resorts

After my transfer from Brig to Riga, I noticed a big contrast between the surroundings.

This was Swiss ski country!

It was still early in the season, yet so many passengers were going there for a weekend mountain getaway.

The Italian train staff at the station advised me that I need not bother with a refund. Just show them your (Trenitalia) stub; she assured me it should be fine. Nope.

Swiss trains were noticeably cleaner, quieter, and well-staffed.

Clear, large-paned windows reveal Nature's glory.

Tickets, please!

Young train staff stood posted at the SBB red trains. No getting around them. They wore satchel bags, serving as mobile kiosks. They were well-armed with point-of-sale card readers around their necks and pockets full of literature. I showed them my old stub and explained the simple mistake. But they weren't messing around.

Sorry. You can't board Swiss trains with Italian tickets.

Ah, lost in translation. I took out some Euros.

From all these extra detours, I lost some weight. So did my wallet. :)

On board the train, I received an Airbnb text from my host.
I had notified him that I'd be running an hour behind schedule.

The text reads:
"no problem."
"Hey, do you still want to go paragliding?"
"the paragliding pilot, Bruno, will meet you at Grampi’s."

My host knew a local guide named "Bruno" who could take guests up if the weather permitted. For days, we had exchanged messages. This flight option would be only possible if wind conditions were favorable. It was essential to check the local weather forecast from Tarasch or Zermatt, not outside.

Apparently, fate wanted me to go fly on that day.

(Skip to Story: Bruno and the Air Taxi)

Scaling up is one part Grit - but two parts Audacity.

Arriving is easy. Anyone can enter a gift shop.

Overpay for a logo magnet or postcard, and say you were there.

The rich come to the ski resort town of Zermatt and take a lift ticket straight to the top. Reaching it on foot, like my Stanford mentor did as a youth - is another matter.

Fundraising angel or seed capital rounds takes enormous perseverance.
It is an ice-cold wind tunnel test of facing repeated hurdles, uncertainty, and rejection.

With previous large group vacation planning over the years, I had wasted so much time. Pitching, explaining, educating, and then trying to persuade others to bring them along. You'll never make everyone happy - nobody is born an avocado.

Change is hard. New is risky.

Due Diligence

To truly separate between the hype and the reality requires you to put boots on the ground with due diligence. In March 2021, I flew red-eye from San Diego to Miami cross-country to arrive Day 1 for the filming and meet the entire film crew of TopCourt. Pitch Decks only tell you so much.

You need to go the extra mile and be able to bring yourself there. Show that you're willing to grind out the hours alongside the team to understand how operations work. No armchair QB's if you're in it with your own post-tax dollars.

CES 2023 Eureka Park - Gallery of Flops - the Startup Graveyard

In the book "Cold Start Problem," Andrew Chen describes the hundreds of thousands of new startups in the US annually. Linking sufficient self-propelling supply (the Hard Side) with increasing demand is often the challenge in Network Models.

Imagine it's like empowering the East and West coast teams of the Transcontinental Railroad to connect at Promontory, Utah. Done successfully, it linked the two halves of America, its coast, and thus also a nation.

Solving the Hard Side: building the first Unicorn - the steel Horse and the magic Horn.

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” - Beckett

How many strangers or VCs will take the plunge with you? Can you get sustainable funding. Will you continue to iterate, test, fail, and repeat as long as it takes?

The "Desert of no Traction" - Saraha of Startups.

After the honeymoon phase, there are sometimes long lulls. Weeks or months where revenue flatlines. This period tests the Founder's heart. You are sometimes blind with no good KPIs to find progress.

At that point, you can only put one foot in front of the other - day in and day out. Until you finally hike it out alive or your cash tank runs dry. This is the sacred test of the Soul of a start-up.

Beware of false promises - the checks that can't be cashed.

Some will tell you that your idea sounds good when you're presenting. Then disappear. Nobody doubts your conviction. But when it comes to crunch time, how many would put down their own money to go on that one-way ticket with you? How small things are handled is often a microcosm of the large decisions. 

"If you don't like extreme sports, maybe a start-up is not for you" (Uri Levine, page 36)
 

Don't listen to the naysayers and fearmongers - they reject you, then ignore you, then fear you.
Anchors are everywhere - ready to ground you down to their level.
Prepare for people ready to tell you it won't work and why you're crazy.

"People don't like change, and your new start-up is a change." - Levine

Gathering light feathers for a pair of wings.
Build a solid team that reinforces the other like bonding glue.

It takes a leap of faith, some luck, and being able to endure the long ride.

You must risk stepping off the safe path and go forging into the wild.
The secrets of real discovery await you in these dark woods (of Tal).

"The door is going to open for a slipt second. 

Whether you choose to jump through it or not, it's not going to be there very long." 

- James Cameron (MasterClass)

Before the trip, I saw the 14-day forecast. I knew I only had a 25% chance of making a launch window. I did not even book any lounging plans ahead of time. I did not know after Milan if there would be another change of plans. It's the dreaded equivalent of a "rain delay" for tennis.

Often, the Alps forecast is grey with a rainy mix of gloom in November.

The Christmas Markets would be a couple weeks away.
I studied the forecasts and had a backup route if things go wrong.

Always understand the odds, kid - even if you end up ignoring them. (yes, Hans Solo)