Day 0 Saturday (July 13, 2008)
Not an official meet day. I flew Route 1, north along Sunset ridge to Mt McCaleb and back to Moore, 41 mi roundtrip. Gorgeous flight, good lift. I got better at sussing out the good stuff, ignoring the rest. The thermals were where I expected them to be- novel, but cool. Other times I’ve had the idea but either didn’t have the time(altitude) or the faith to track it down.
Got a bit low prior to Pass Creek, but found a good one to 16,700 and never looked back. Saw Bruce returning on my way out. McCaleb was rugged and good looking up close but I didn't get my camera out until I was above it so the pics don't do it justice. Did bag a decent shot of Sunset on the return trip however.
Mt McCaleb from above.
It was a first for me in several respects: longest out and back, highest altitude, first time this site. First noted experience with hypoxia. Ben R went down in a remote canyon, I was his only radio contact and trying to relay his position to the others. I had to *really* concentrate to remember and then say "Ben is on Pass Creek one mile north of road X" --and even then had to ask him to confirm that I'd said it accurately. I had not doubted that hypoxia was real, but it was eye-opening for me to experience it so clearly. And they say it actually makes you dumber than you think you are!
Day 1
Route 3. I flew 45 mi (tied my previous best)to the cement plant near 4 corners. Got up to 13k over King in strong turbulent lift and a scary gaggle, left the gaggle N to find happier lift, sank like a rock in venturi near Ramshorn, Back down to 9k, start over player 1.
Got back up, found Gerry and Ben R, we all left at 16k. I flew faster (71 mph ground speed)than I had before.
Came in 5th for the day in rec class. Bobblehead Bums in 1st. Gerry did 48,Ben R 70, Ben D 89, Wayne 92!, Brian 18, Bruce 75, Heather 42, Chris 13.3 (PB).
Day 2
Weather sucked, did not fly.
Day 3
Sank out, landed at bailout LZ. Flared well, but no/downwind landing, hit basebar hard and bent it, also broke radio connection. Was able to fix both later, but I didn’t relaunch (serious strategic mistake). Went to hot springs w CRV, Wendy, and Brian. Good consolation prize but I still had to eat some points.
Day 4
Launched, climbed out, went over back at Ramshorn canyon (earlier than planned). Non-event but caused a stir because of my location and the fact that I inadvertently turned down my radio and so could not hear (or respond to) incoming calls. Reports of my demise were greatly exagerated.
Weather was heavy, big cells to the north, crossing from the west. I could hear Bruce and Ben (also N of me)discussing weather and strategy. Worked north behind ridge, eventually crossed to Lemhi’s. I was approaching Saddle Mountain, not quite high enough to get over, and avoiding a big cell to the north, when it started growing toward me. I was concerned about getting caught between the cloud and the mountains, and eventually decided to flee to the south.
With 3/4 VG (the max I could mostly control in the turbulence) and the bar fully stuffed, I was still ascending. Also was making very little progress to the south(9 mph per gps groundtrack) as the cloud was sucking laterally as well.
I was never that close the to cloud, but I also wasn’t getting away. My hands were getting knumb, my heart pounding(or at least should have been), but there was nothing to do but keep diving and try to hold the glider in control.
Eventually I could see incremental progress in my altitude—holding 11k, then 10,500, below 10. Even once I got down to 8k, if I let the bar out, I immediately began rising -again.
At that point I could probably have skirted the mountains (and the cell) on the south side. It would have taken me far off course, but would have kept me in the game. But I was physically tired and mentally flustered coming off the adrenaline rush of nearly getting hoovered, and thinking more of getting on the ground than anything else. So I continued diving down, throwing in a few spiral dives for good measure, eventually pulling off a perfect no-flare/no-stepper landing into a 20 mph SW wind in small sagebrush next to the road. A learning day. Bruce also landed in the valley (hopefully with less drama), while Ben squeaked over the Lemhi's to Nikolai.
Day 5
Race committee called day due to weather. Sarah, Bruce, Gerry, Brian and I went fly fishing on the Big Lost River south of the Mackay Reservoir. Gorgeous, lots of good sized (if not very hungry) rainbows. Brian tries to combine the ancient art of fish tickling with modern technology (a multiple treble hook lure) and winds up with a nice fish but also a trip to the local clinic to remove the fish/lure combo from his hand. Hey, chicks dig scars, right? Still, it was a great dinner.
Day 6
Final comp day. Despite consensus predictions of route 1, the race committee calls route 3 again. Turns out to be a very light day—hardly anyone launches before 2 PM, we all watch in disbelief as Bill Soderquist (the eventual meet winner) slowly sinks out and then whacks in the upper bailout. Finally get off around 3:45 or so, climb out without too much fuss. I’m at 12,500, slowly working north along the ridge at King, when my lift shuts off. I turn around and find myself suddenly sinking into a headwind.
Dammit! I’ve done it again, wandered too close to Ramshorn Canyon, and am again being pulled by the venturi! How stupid is this? I try briefly to scurry south, back to the lifty area, but I’m in the venturi and losing altitude rapidly. I bail over the back, flying as fast as I can, and almost immediately find huge sink, followed by major turbulence and huge sink. I have my first experience getting rolled beyond 90 degrees. I burn off 5K(and a few years off my mental life) in less than 6 minutes. I finally get clear of the rotor, but now I only have a few hundred feet AGL and am hoping to get close enough to a dirt road for some kind of retrieve. I get over a “road”, circle a couple of times to get an idea of wind direction, unzip, and pull my streamer. I’m about to throw it and start setting up my approach when I get a bump. All sense, high-alert quiver. No time for thinking, I feel another ripple, hook an intuitive left-- and start climbing. From the beginning it feels solid, after gaining a few hundred I start to breath again, then it really coalesces and I’m back in the game. A few minutes later I’m at 12k and disbelievingly see Bruce and Brian a couple hundred above. Feels like rejoining the living.
I feel the thermal topping out. They are still working it above me but I’m impatient—pull some string and head off toward the Lemhi’s. Its sinky at first and I have second thoughts, but find light lift and am making quick progress and so stick with it. Reach the Lemhi alluvial fan with better than 1K AGL, work some light stuff for a bit of buffer, then head deeper, looking for the bomb I know is there. I find it, in the exact spot I found a few days ago, and rocket up. Top out and go on glide, big sink again, but smoother. Get hammered all the way out to the valley, but then get a good lee sider and am back up with enough to make the Bitterroots. There I find strong but broken lift, try to break the inversion at 13.5K a couple times but am hornswoggled by a stuck vario (screaming lift while I core sink), get disgusted and head out with 12.5.
Plot a course north of the cement plant, somewhat away from any retrieve but closer to the maybe-lifty foothills. Soon encounter SE headwinds and divert course more to the south to stay closer to the road. It’ll end up costing me a few miles, but is more relaxed, and it sounds like nobody is getting much further anyway. I have hopes for a small ridge W of the cement plant but its dead, I burble E along Hwy 22, hopeful but slowly losing altitude. I make a single circle in 25 fpm up, but lose it and that becomes my approach. I make a clean landing into 10mph SE, 200’ from a gate adjacent to 22, for a 44 miler.
Bruce makes it to near Dubois (another 15 miles). Brian ekes a few miles further along my original line, but has a rough landing involving cactus, etc. I feel better about missing that last couple of miles.
Nothing epic, but not bad either, again tying my previeous best. And after nearly sinking out so early in the flight, the rest was all gravy anyway. I end up 3rd for the day in rec class, and pick up a couple of slots overall, to finish the comp 9th of 36 in rec class. More importantly I avoid sinking the Bums, and we finish the comp in first place with a nice margin. Yeehah!
Bobbleheads Rule!
The Wrapup
So I gained a lot of experience, learned some things, and had a lot of fun, strengthening my skills and building friendships. Normal wear and tear on the bod and wing, wore out some flipflops and lost Bruce’s leatherman, but no busted gear. A bunch of miles and gas money, but how many chances does a person get to do something like this?
1. It sometimes pays to hang out and assess conditions rather than continuing on course. A holding pattern or tactical detour is better than sinking out or flying into untenable conditions.
2. Successful XC is as much about not making big mistakes as anything else.
3. Learning when to switch gears is *key*. (not my idea but worth repeating)
Sometimes you need have faith in your strategy and stick with it, but also remain open to new info and reassessment of conditions, sometimes very quickly. If that sounds like a contradiction, it is. Nobody said this was easy.
4. I have more faith in my ability to find lift, particularly in mountains.
5. Gotta think/see further ahead, and more clearly. I'm paying attention, but still getting some rude surprises.
