That was quite a story yesterday. My drone—my Willi (that’s what I call him because sometimes he does whatever he wants)—ran away from me. And for a while I really didn’t know if I would ever see him again.
I was out riding my bike near the mountain pass and had the drone following me. Everything was working perfectly. Then I started the fast descent into the valley. Wind in my face, curves rushing past—just that wonderful feeling of flying downhill.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Willi is climbing. Higher. And higher.
And then—gone.
Out of my field of vision.
“Help! Now what?”
On the controller screen I can still see that he is hovering somewhere high above the road. Far below I even spot the gallery in the rock wall. But where is he flying? The camera view doesn’t give me any clues. Just bits of road, guardrails, sky.
Then I remember: when the battery reaches a critical level, the drone automatically returns to its starting point.
Only problem: by now I’m about two kilometers further down the mountain.
My imagination starts running wild.
What if it doesn’t work? What if Willi crashes somewhere? Or lands somewhere on one of those steep slopes? In this terrain there would be no chance of ever finding him again. A thousand scenarios rush through my head. And I’ve only had Willi for such a short time! Is he really going to leave me already?
And even if he actually makes it back to the starting point at the roadside—what if a car drives a little too close to the edge and crushes him?
Not a pleasant thought.
So I turn around and race back uphill with my bike. After a while a car approaches. I stop, lean my bike against the guardrail, and stick out my thumb.
Luckily, the car stops.
To this day I’m not sure if the two people inside really understood what I was babbling about. Completely out of breath I try to explain something about:
“Drone… flew away… maybe at the starting place… no idea where it is…”
Half sentences. Heavy breathing. Mild panic.
They take me with them.
As we get close to the pass, I ask them to slow down—just in case Willi is sitting somewhere on the road.
And suddenly I have a camera image again.
I see asphalt. Guardrail.
Willi has actually made it back.
He must have flown back to the starting point and—hopefully—landed safely.
We slowly roll the last few meters toward the top of the pass.
And there he is.
Sitting quietly on the asphalt, as if nothing had happened.
Waiting.
My Willi.
That was a close one. But clearly I still have a few things to learn about flying a drone safely. 😄🚁
Willi the Drone on Our Two-Day Ski Tour: Liffel-, Jakobspitze, Durnholz, Gaishorn: