The Edge

2011 in Review

2012-01-04T06:49:00.000-08:00

Spent a good bit of the past year working on my painting skills, doing various exercises, but without a lot of new work to show. I've been working with an accomplished artist in New York, Richard Murdock, and have been learning a lot from him. One of the main things I've learned is how much more there is to know ;-)
But I did produce a couple of pieces I'm pleased with. The first is a monochrome value study, a simple set up, but executed with more accuracy and nuance than I'd accomplished before. The second is a portrait of Jen. Again somewhat simplified in that I kept the palette pretty limited, but I'm happy with the result. Not perfect, but a clear step forward for me in terms of accuracy and finish.

Ringing in the New Year, KW style.

2012-01-04T06:30:00.001-08:00

Spent Christmas in Colorado with my parents and sister, a nice visit despite a week-long stuffy nose(dry air). Returned to KW Dec 30 in time for a last day of 2011 dive on Ashley's Alternative Medicine. Low wind and decent vis, rare this time of year, and being with good friends made it a nice day, and a good catch was even better. We landed a nice cobia on line, and speared a grouper and a few hogs. Good eating!

More miles

2011-09-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Racked up some big miles this week, though all were in cars or commercial jets. Flew to TX to help Mom & Dad pack up the house and move to their new digs in Colorado Springs.

Its ok, Dad, she really is just going for the cake...

After a rather impressive string of send-off soirees in Corpus Christi, Dad and I drove one car out there, Mary and Mom took the other one to Virginia, where it will stay. Margaret, Dad and I got the house pretty well set up before Mom got out to CO, everyone seemed pretty pleased with the result. Nice to see all the family, though sleeping in a different place every night was starting to wear on me a little.
Massive T-storm south of Denver was astounding, though I was driving and didn't get any pics.
I flew back to Ca Saturday of Labor Day weekend, just in time to do load up the van and hit the road for Indian Valley the next day.

Conditions on launch were pretty strong when I got there around 3, and the gaggle of low gliders struggling in turbulent air overhead wasn't particularly enticing. I finally decided to set up anyway, and when I launched at 5 I was glad I did. The glass-off was really nice, smooth as could be with light but pervasive lift. Made it almost to Lake Almanor at 10,200, back down the ridge to Dave C's place, and finally back up to Manny's to land. Still finding lift all over, even as the shadows began to flow across the valley. What a difference from St John--the glider practically flew itself.
Stacey, Carm and crew put on a great dinner that night, lots of excited pilots talking big air over margaritas, nachos and super burritos.
Next day was driver appreciation, Ben, Wayne, Tracy, Mele, Ryan and I hiked to Homer Lake(after considerable, shall I say,"discussion" over best routing ;-). We got there, it was nice, now on to the flying bit. Got to launch quite late, but R and B set up and went anyway, for a short but pleasant glass off. It did provide some nice photo ops.

Ben, hamming it up over the moon.

Type or Fly?

2011-09-10T11:19:00.000-07:00

The Man in Flames hot-foots it for the horizon. (Ask him about pioneering a new LZ ;-)

Well, apparently the choice has been flying...pretty far behind on the posts. I did get out to the St John fly-in, had a great time as usual. I had good launches, and though starting to focus on landing earlier in the game cost me a few miles, it kept the stress factor manageable, and I enjoyed the flying. The air was pretty ratty both days, the thermals tight, squirrely, and sharp-edged. It quickly became clear than I was not in shape physically for this air, shoulders tired pretty quickly from manhandling the glider so much. Still, flew an hour and a half or two each day and liked it. Great to be in some mountain air, great to catch up with the tribe, Julia did a super job driving, and the BBQ was terrific.

RG basks in glory and anticipation of a new XC bag for his new T2C.

California Dreamin

2011-08-26T09:27:00.001-07:00

Well after nearly a year in Key West, I decided it was time to revisit the Golden State. Arrived a couple of weeks ago, and after spending some time reviving my ancient Vanagon and sorting a few other issues, have been flying and seeing friends and generally having a pretty good time.
Not having flown for a year, I was somewhat concerned with being a bit rusty, to the point of considering trying to borrow a more docile wing for re-entry. In end I took my trusty Litespeed out of mothballs last Thursday for a test run off the Ed Levin 300'.
Setting up was easy, the familiar motions bubbling up in muscle memory, and that made me optimistic about the rest. The glider felt comfortable and ready to fly as it settled lightly on my shoulders in the breeze on launch. A last minute mental triple-check, and I made my run.
Got off the hill fine, but immediately got both feet stuck in my harness. Used to wearing boots, today my smaller nikes slid paste the trapeze bar(toe control of harness angle) and got caught. Managed to keep flying the glider while I extracted them, but it was pretty busy for a few moments, and I was glad to get them both out(nearly losing one shoe) prior to landing. *That* could have been awkward. But hey, that's why we do test flights, right?
Got in a half dozen launch/landings at Funston the next day, and felt reasonably ready for St John on Saturday. More on that later....

Of f to the Races

2011-05-25T20:31:00.000-07:00

Well painting is rolling along, but this was another water weekend.
Went out to the Vandenberg and strapped on a tank to help out my friend Kelly do an underwater scooter race.

video clip probably explains it best:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDlHIRyJM58&feature=feedf
It was around the Vandenberg, a big ship sunk in ~150' . The race course was ~halfway down.
The whole thing seemed a little silly to me, but it was fun, and well organized. Its a new "sport", so rules,equipment etc just starting to evolve. Lotta room for drag reduction, whether by body position or constructed body fairings, etc. I'm sorta drawn to the innovation potential. my idea this race was a 45 ahead degree mirror so she could tuck her head but still see forward. only kind of worked--she used a convex mirror, which mounted nicely on the rounded nose and looked great, but the view was too shrunken--hard to use, esp w marginal vis. Kelly won her class anyway.

interesting water changes--out there(~6 miles offshore) the clarity is not about local wind, etc, its all about where the Gulf Stream is. If it come in close enough, the water is clear blue, otherwise, greenish. Sunday the border was right at the wreck-- you could see clearly the demarcation on the surface. We started w green, 20' vis, but then the blue moved in, had maybe 60'? got pretty nice for the race finish and second dive was quite beautiful.

Some spent dive 2 working on lion fish eradication. Seriously.

Summer comes early

2011-04-03T06:33:00.000-07:00

Wow.
Zack was like an aquarium today. Its been getting warmer, with more calm days mixed in lately.
I spent most of the day working, didn't get down to the water til almost 6, but it was still plenty of daylight. The water was perfect, refreshing after the bike ride, but not even remotely cold. Clearest I've yet seen there. Fewer barracuda, no tarpon, but some really big snook, and more grouper about than I usually see. Also saw a couple of hogfish, which I don't usually see there, but it could also be the time of day--they get more active toward evening. Also say a small skate. Probably always there, but easier to pick out with the water so clear.
The moray that I'd seen a couple of times seems to have found a new home. Last time I checked his hole in the rocks there was a lobster there, and today nobody home at all. Too bad, he added some spice to the neighborhood.

There was a bit of current outside, and I spent a leisurely 20 minutes working my way against it up the shore, and then drifted back down, watching how the fish react to human flotsam-- no scurrying away like when you're flapping arms & legs, but they still know you're there. Some don't care, but the snook and barracuda start drifting also, pacing you, keeping just a little space, then slowly drift sideways & away. Nobody much likes being followed.

Anyway, what a great way to relax at the end of the day. A workout if you want it, and so much more entertaining than watching pool tiles go by ;-)

Back in the water

2011-03-09T20:36:00.000-08:00

Well, nothing like a nice long break from your blog ;-)

Been pretty busy with the whole art thing, some results of that have shown up on FB and my website. More recently, my work was juried in to the Key West Art Center, and I've also joined another local art co-op, The Guild Hall, so more paintings will be seeing the light of day in the physical world.

Since I haven't officially turned this into an art blog, I'll get on with the dive stuff.

Had an invitation from a new friend to come out on the boat Sunday. We launched from Cudjoe Key and tried out front (Atlantic side, toward Looe Key) but despite 2 or three color shifts, the vis just wasn't there. Had had stiff breeze for 2-3 days prior, so no big surprise, & we went back the other way to the Gulf side. Jumped in I think 3 or so places, progressively nicer. (Wind dropped through the day, also. Fairly overcast at times but always well lit). Last spot we found hogfish, grey snapper, grouper (out of season), and lobsters (shorts mostly). Water was only 15' max deep, and vis closer to 20, so it was pretty relaxed sightseeing mostly. Found a turtle asleep with his head between two sponges. Never seen it before but am told its standard. He blinked at me a couple times when I got close but didn't seem too disturbed. Kinda cute in an ET/ grumpy old man sort of way. No camera at hand unfortunately.

Overall a really nice day, culminating with fresh fish dinner.

I'll digress slightly and say I've been swimming a bit around the island, or snorkeling or something. Have seen quite an array of sea life near Ft Zachary Taylor, a state park. Vis is hit or miss, and the best days typically have cooler water, but on the right ones, wow. Big baracuda & morays, big schools of tarpon and snook, frequent mackeral/bonita type fish, a few trevally, schools of pilchars (4-6" shiny baitfish). I'd almost forgotten the pleasure of just going limp and schooling with the little guys.
Anyway its pretty cool. The one thing I'm kind of jonesing for is some deeper water. Nothing extreme, but it'd be nice to stretch the legs a little. So I'm hoping that'll be somewhere on the horizon. Oh and maybe some airtime, though that's likely gonna have to wait until summer.

The New Digs

2010-11-17T09:21:00.000-08:00

The promised pics of the new place: Compact, stately, rather lush. Rumor has it Hemingway once stayed here; the house belonged to a close friend who invited Ernest to KW in the first place.
Not sure why some insist on showing sideways.
The breakfast spot

Breakfast from the pool view.

The dining room/library, from the poolside entrance.

My 2nd floor room has an enclosed porch which makes a great place to paint. The artist at work.

Arrived, settling in.

2010-11-10T11:04:00.000-08:00

After 8 days on the road and 3800 miles I got here Friday. SF-Reno-Salt Lake-Denver-Wichita-Shreveport-Biloxi-Port Charlotte-Key West.
Sometimes it felt like a bit of a slog but seeing friends and family along the way was great and overall fine traveling--almost surprised when I actually got here. A bit odd yet to be looking at this as home, not just a vacation.
Immediately began looking for a place to live. Rentals go quickly here (the "season" is just getting underway), a couple rented out from under me before I could see them, and then I saw a few dumps, so it was feeling a little less than rosy, but I found a great place yesterday and rented it. It seems pretty ideal, quiet neighborhood but easy walk to the main drag, very nice older home(historical register listed), an enclosed porch I can use for studio space. Will post some pics soon.
Also am meeting other artists and gallery owners, people have been very friendly, helpful, and generally welcoming here.
Now I just need to get moved in, file a bazillion change of address notices, get a Florida DL, a bicycle, maybe a scooter...., well I guess it doesn't all have to happen today ;-)

Eastward Ho!

2010-10-31T06:58:00.000-07:00

Well for those who have been living under a rock, I've headed to Key West. Unloaded most of my stuff, put my paints and fins in the car and am on my way. Weather has held nice, I'm making good time and seeing friends along the way. In Denver today, turning right tomorrow. Nice rocks in Utah.

Slaying (the dragon at) St. John

2010-08-25T10:26:00.001-07:00

Well, a comeback of sorts.

First, a Lengthy Preface:
Had a pretty rough downwind landing at Dunlap this April, sustained some neck and ankle injuries that took their sweet time healing up. Took a few flights since then (at Mission, Slide and Yosemite), but until recently it was still pretty painful, and more disturbingly, I was a lot more nervous than I'm used to. A little edge on launch is normal for me (for most people, I think), but this was to the point where I almost didn't do it a couple of times. I had not flown Slide or Yosemite before, and both launches are a tad more intimidating than most, but still...
The bigger issue was that the fear was messing with my flying. That became crystal clear to me (and maybe everyone else) at Yosemite. The LZ (Ledig Meadows) is *h*u*g*e*-- hundreds, maybe a thousand, meters long. The desired spot for convenience is at the end, where everyone breaks down in the shade of the large trees. The Saturday, not wanting to have anything to do with overshooting the spot, trees, other gliders, etc, I erred on the side of caution-- by 1/4 mile. Just ridiculous. How odd, I thought, to have misjudged so radically. Oh well, new place, etc... then did the exact same thing Sunday. Hmmmm.
It was clear to me that I needed to either back up a step, fly some easy, familiar places, get my confidence back... or just hang it up. Which I seriously considered. There were other factors as well--I've been pretty focused on painting the past year or so, the whole summertime competition/travel thing was looking like a big interruption of that, my girls, having been gone for most of the past year, would be around for at least part of the summer, I didn't want to be painting from a wheelchair, that kind of thing.
Well the calendar keeps rolling, the Sonoma Wings meet at St John was coming up. Its one meet I've gone to every year since I could. Not an easy site by any means, but I've always liked it, and usually had pretty good flights. Plus they do a great BBQ. I decided to go again this year.
My friend Eric Heinrichs (who is also an instructor), who knew a little of my situation, got wind of that and phoned me up-- not to discourage me from going, but to do the practice flights I knew I needed prior.
Thanks Eric.
Weekend before last we met up at Levin and got in a flight there-- good launch, good landing. More would probably have been better, but at least one to the good. Which brings us to this weekend.

On to St. John
Conditions were expected to be OK, but not great. Didn't matter, we were going. The crowd was a little light this year. Some out of the country, some didn't like the weather, a bug was going around and several had to drop out the day of the comp. But those who came were enthusiastic as usual. The first day was open distance with an option of coming back for double points on the return miles. I launched middle of the pack, got to 9 K without too much fuss. Stayed over the mountain trying to get higher, but ended up getting below launch and having to scratch for a while. That took 45 minutes.
Most people had already left and were 15 miles uprange, so I was happy to have a couple of sailplanes flying around and marking lift. The nice thing about those guys is they cover so much sky-- they're more likely to find the *good* lift as opposed to just something going up. That helped me top up over the mountain to 10k; then I headed north.
Some cummies were forming over the mountains but they were pretty deep, didn't think I wanted to be back there. I wasn't finding a lot to work where I was, but the sink wasn't bad either. Past Felkner Ridge I noticed the faintest possible wisp, no, it wasn't even a wisp, more like the fog over your coffee, but it was going up compared to me, and wasn't too far away, so I flew to it and was rewarded by nice lift that only got stronger as the Q blossomed above me. Ended up higher than the cloud, over 10k again, and kept going. Saw a similar formation later but again it was too deep in the mountains, and was not clearly going up. As I continued away from it, it too became a substantial cloud, and I believe the heavy sink I experienced then was due to that cloud. If you're not in the lift, you're in the sink. Remember that.
The flight continued uneventfully. At Red Mountain (~20 miles) I turned back upwind, toward Stonyford, to get some of them double point miles. I was flying conservatively, didn't want any more sketchy landings. There was light lift, but drifting back in the thermals provided no net gain upwind. Made it back 6 miles, which turned out to be the high point flight that day.
Sunday also was better than forecast. Launch conditions were a little squirrely, with mixed crossing cycles. I thought I had a good window, but turned (or was turned, still not sure, probably some of both) hard left about 3 steps into my launch. I was too close to the (harsh, sharp, volcanic) rocks surrounding launch, but stopping wasn't an option so I flew as best I could and managed to clear everything. I'm pretty sure I heard a big sigh behind me as I got away from the terrain. Or maybe it was just me ;-)
Pretty ratty over launch, we'd seen one dust devil earlier (first one I'd seen at St John, I think the trees usually dissipate them), and I got a full on, slack strap twang about 250' over. Not enough clearance for that kind of crap. Eventually hit 9k and went south, the day's course. Got a few miles past Gilmore Peak, noticed I wasn't getting the predicted northerly tailwind, an decided to try back to Stonyford. Broken lift over the foothills kept me going for a while, but I was slowly losing altitude.
I really wanted to make Mary's, might have been able to (I'm sure Ben or Bruce could have done it had they been there) but I was committed to landing safely, which for me meant not scratching until the last moment. I picked a nice field, circled it once, and set down a mile short of Mary's. Missed those 10 bonus points and the spot landing, but kept my confidence intact and had a pretty decent flight overall. I was happy with the decisions I'd made. And combined with Saturday it was good enough to take home a spiffy set of speedsleeves from the prize table ;-)

And yes, the BBQ was excellent. I may not fly as much this year as in the past, but its nice to be back.

Soaring Tam

2010-06-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

Wanted to catch up a little on a nice flight earlier this spring. Went to Tam w Paul Gazis, meeting a few other pilots up on launch after signing in below. I'd been a couple of times before and gotten sledders.
This was a slightly snarky day-- light northish wind splitting the ridge and sometimes coming over the back. Still, it was sunny, postfrontal, and the odd cycle would straighten out the wind on B launch and most of us eventually set up.
We waited, hoping for the wind to come around west, but it never did. After one particularly long lull, during which I thought we'd seen our last launch opportunity come and go, I decided to take both balls in hand and get off the mountain.
I waited on launch quite a while. The flag high up on the ridge is a godsend- saved me from several false starts where I would have been tempted to go but could see it clearly blowing down. I was finally rewarded with a strong if slightly cross cycle, and took it.
Got some ratty lift pretty soon after launch and was working it for a few minutes when I saw Paul get off also. We were over the first knob on the way to the beach, with me maybe 300' higher. Didn't seem like a lot, especially with the rowdy air, but it made a difference. We both worked it for a while but I was making slight net gains while Paul, in the trashier air below, was slowly losing feet and eventually had to head beachward.
Eventually I climbed to cloudbase a bit over 3k where the lift got more consistent and much smoother (though not exactly silky). Phil joined me on his rigid and we benignly ruled the sky for an hour or so, surveying our realm North and South, gazing east toward the hinterlands of SF Bay and beyond.
Seemed like the northerly flow was turbulating over the ridge, and it was a matter of catching a strong cycle off launch (and a bit of luck) to get above that mess. I had heard tales of serious spankings ("most terrified I've ever been") in stronger winds of this direction, and was seeing how that could be. Got spit out of couple of doozies, but kept climbing back up.
Must admit to a touch of schadenfreude watching 5 or 6 pilots (Berkeley, I think)go off the C launch in quick succession (small launch window?) and, in equally quick succession, sink like rocks (or maybe just lemmings without wings) and scurry toward the sea.
I flew further NW over the estuary toward Bolinas and found light but very general lift--a convergence was starting, and soon I could see a long cummie-like ridge forming along the coast headed toward Drakes Bay. Pt Reyes/Drakes looked like a real possibility, but I hadn't made any XC plans and didn't know the area well enough to just go. Still and all, a gorgeous flight, and nice introduction to Tam soaring.

Something a Little Different

2009-11-15T19:30:00.000-08:00

In life BH (before hanggliding) I used to freedive a lot. Hadn't done much recently, but a friend's 40th B-day provided an excuse for a reunion of good friends and a week of diving in Baja (Sea of Cortez side).
Seth Hopkins, Mario Korf and I flew down to stay with Chay Ochoa at his place near la Ventana, just south of LaPaz. Beautiful area, and Chay knows all the local spots. He was gracious enough to share a number of them with us.

We mostly dove from a panga at various places around Cerralvo Island. Dawn departure was the rule. First stop was to net some sardines for chum/bait. We all rolled over the edge into the wonderland. It was only 8' deep and not full of other-wordly colors like some of the coral reefs of the tropics, but teeming with life. A 20 lb roosterfish came up to greet me. With the low morning sun and sense of promise for the days ahead, we were almost giggling with pleasure.
Proceeded to dive a south-end reef called la Traversada, a mostly flat rocky expanse from 50-70 feet deep surrounded by sand. Viz was good enough to spot larger fish from the surface as they meandered in and out of their homes in the undercut ledges and cracks of the rock. I was a bit out of shape--hitting the bottom, but not getting a lot of time down there. Still, I tagged a decent pargo amarilla, as did Mario. Seth took the biggest pargo at 14 or 17 pounds. Also saw some cabrilla, but no monsters. Nice warm up diving.
Moved on to blue water, drifting over a pinnacle/reef call la Reynita several times. I saw lots of bait, and a wahoo made a brief appearance, just long enough for me to get a shot off, but didn't connect.
We had intended to dive maybe 3 or 4 days, breaking it up with a little kiteboarding at some point, but great weather/viz kept us returning for day after day, rising before dawn for coffee before the ride out, generally staying out 9 or 10 hours, most of that in the water, getting back around dusk. By the 4th day we were all pretty whipped: sunburnt, chafed, waterlogged, a little tired, peppered with little cuts and stings, but had started seeing more pelagics (tuna and wahoo), and in the end decided on one more day out. Good choice.
Day 5 turned out to be truly epic. Very light wind, almost glassy, 60-80' vis, and the fish were *in*. Most of us had never seen a wahoo in real life before this trip, and yet today we were getting schooled, often by groups of 5 or 10 at a time. Numerous times I saw a single or pair come by, and they were even bigger.
Day 4 had been frustrating for me, as I missed a good half-dozen shots. I was hunting with a Rob Allen 130 I'd used often before with good success, but I just couldn't seem to hit anything. I thought I was waiting until they were close enough in, but Seth saw one shot from above and gave me the clue: the super clear water and large fish had me pulling the trigger with the fish over 25 feet away (probably over 30' the first couple of times, and the gun's effective range is only 18 at most. I could hardly believe it, but the evidence was abundant.
Chay loaned me a gun for day 5,one of Chris' Sea Sniper masterpieces a big teak 4 band with enclosed track, ~30' range, dead-on accuracy. After several dives in which fish approached and I let them pass, I finally got the opportunity I was looking for. A pair were coming my way, with a third in the distance. I was ready--relaxed and well oxygenated. I slipped beneath the surface without spooking them, eased down to 25 feet and waited, keeping my eyes elsewhere as they slowly grew curious and drifted toward me. I was nearing the end of my breath but still held fire, determined not to repeat yesterday's mistakes. Finally two seemed within range, and were hesitating, not coming closer. I felt that moment before the penny dropped, lined up on the larger and fired. Fish and line instantly vanished in a vortex of bubbles, though I could still see the float another 30' below me. I swam after it on the surface and then began playing tug of war--it was a strong fish, might have some size. Got dunked a few more times bringing it within view again. Mario offered a second shot, but I thought mine was solid and declined. Finally swam down, got the fish in hand--it was a good one. Boated the fish, ate the heart, got a few pics. Good day. Good friends, what a life we have.

2009-08-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

A track from last spring: Ed Levin to Mission Peak and back

St John Fly-in

2009-08-10T11:12:00.000-07:00

So after driving all to hell and gone this month going to the big comps (Chelan, the nats at King) only to find tough conditions and short flights, I had one of my most enjoyable flights this year at the Sonoma Wings Fly-in.
This is my third year going to the event. The road up to launch is longish, so I only go once a year for the meet. The Wings are a great crew and put on a really fun event, with a challenging, interesting site, a nice flat LZ/camping area (complete with irrigation ditch for that post-flight dip to rinse the dust and cool the soul), and Ernie and EC's incomparable BBQ. Its one of the most consistently enjoyable events I attend.
The task Saturday was an optional open distance/out and back, pilot's choice. Double points for the return leg made it look pretty attractive if the wind wasn't too bad.
I got up to 9300 or so over the peak in somewhat turbulent lift and headed north along the main ridge, a little bit out in front of it in respect of the long glide out. The lift over the spines was tricky-- some strong pockets that made you think you were getting somewhere, but I was consistently losing altitude crossing over the first 3 spines. Also the wind direction seemed to be shifting at different altitudes, so I was having a hard time get a fix on it. At one point I got lower(4K) than I liked deeper in the range than I liked, and found myself working hard in ratty lift just to stay up over the trees. My shoulder was starting to act up with all the manhandling the glider required, and then I could barely see through all the sweat and sunscreen running into my eyes, so I was pretty relieved to finally scratch up/out to a point where I clearly had a good LZ on glide.

I caught my breath and assessed my position, the terrain, the wind, and decided I had gotten as far north as I was going to, and if I was going to sink out, I would at least go for some of those double-point return miles on my final glide. There's a smaller N-S ridge in the middle of the valley which looked like the best potential trigger point, and getting over it would make the retrieve easier, so I headed that way. Then things started getting really nice. I found a fat, lazy thermal over the ridge. No rocketship, but so smooth, easy and consistent to circle in I didn't mind waiting a little while to get my altitude. Got up a little over 5k and kept cruising south, no serious sink and regularly spaced thermals took me back up whenever I got down near 3K. The wind had backed off or shifted, so I had no headwind, possibly a slight tailwind most of the time. Really relaxed flying, but low enough to have a nice view of the rural landscape. Still had to pay attention as the road meandered nearer and farther from the ridge, but after a while I got pretty comfortable with the idea I was going to make it back all the way to Stonyford, and just started enjoying the scenery. Couldn't pick out Mary's place in the valley (the LZ) right off, kept scanning around until I realized I was right over it! Still had lots of height, so I kept south toward the foothills near Gilmore Peak. Thought I could tag it and get back, but didn't want to spoil the day's relaxed ambiance, so I cruised back, did a few wangs on the way down and came in between dust-devils for an uneventful-if-slightly-clumsy landing in dead calm. 3:24 flight time, 16 miles out, 17 return, big grin.

Sunday was a race to goal, tag Gilmore and land at Mary's. Flying my first timed event was fun, definitely a different mindset than just going for miles, another layer of strategy. I spent a little time going for another 1000 feet over launch, but eventually got it, and went on a long smooth glide for the turnpoint. Tagged it, skipped a nice thermal over it, thinking I could just glide back, and immediately regretted the choice as I hit heavy sink. I got just about out of the foothills, but the glide to Mary's looked iffy, so I spent 8 minutes in weak broken lift there to gain 400 feet, which turned out to be just enough to get home. While I was scratching, Monty, my nearest competitor, who had launched just after me, passed me by 1000 feet higher, argh.
I raced to Mary's, getting there maybe 250 over, but now my low altitude was to my advantage as I swooped in to land just before Monty. Fun, though he still beat me by a couple of minutes on elapsed time.
The two days together were enough to get 3rd place overall and a nice new glider bag. I'll be back next year. ;-)

Sweet day in Monterey

2009-08-10T10:56:00.000-07:00

So I'm going off topic here for a bit to revisit one of my (semi) past loves, freediving. Heard there were halibut in pretty close at Monterey, and just had to go look for'em. As it turned out, didn't see many, but still had a beautiful dive.
The sea was dead flat when Mario and I rolled up, sunny, with some patchy fog offshore and enough breeze to give a little ripple to the surface texture. We suited up and entered the water near Lover's Point. The shallows were quite clear, but once you went out a little way the top 10-15' took on a decidedly yellow-red tint (nacent algae bloom, I think) and the vis was only 5' or so. But on each dive, you would pierce that layer and suddenly it would open up to 30-40 and was just stunning. The top layer completely diffused the incoming sunlight so that everything was bathed in this perfectly even glow, and there was no surge at all, so it was crystal clear all the way to the bottom The overall effect was like sliding into a frozen crystal, everything still, everything perfect, and as I slowly came to rest near the bottom, I became part of that seascape. Felt like I could stay down forever.
Hadn't been diving much lately, so I was taking it pretty easy, but after a little while somehow that relaxed approach flowed into some really nice, long dives. The water was a relatively toasty 56, which also helped.
Anyway, after 3 magical hours we left, having spooked a couple of small flatties and played some with the harbor seals which were abundant that day. Reminded me of why I love diving.

Chelan XC Classic--Day 1/2

2009-07-07T09:22:00.000-07:00

So the first day was tough going, only a few people (of ~40) made more than a nominal distance, Bruce and Steve among them. Yesterday was called on high winds and possible T-storms, today looks pretty windy but more promising than yesterday, time to go up the mountain and set up.
Someone in the soccer field LZ picked up my landing, which usually means a whack, but not this time ;-)

More Local Fun

2009-06-20T16:56:00.000-07:00

After bailing on a series of successively less grandiose (uncharted Nevada XC adventure, no, how about Wolf/Sweetwater for a couple of days, no, maybe an overnighter to McLure....)plans for the weekend, I ended up at Ed Levin Saturday. The blips were actually pretty lousy( no lapse rate), but the wind was expected to be moderately strong from SW. Karl, Doug H., Alan and myself drove up, launched pretty early (11:30?), ended up having a blast. Flew for just a bit over an hour, but had several low-ish saves, one from ~400 agl and back up to 3K. Conditions were just about perfect for my skill level, clearly soarable, but challenging enough to make it feel like an accomplishment. And the drivetime/ fly time ratio was right. Couldn't ask for more.

Swoopin in at McClure

2009-06-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

This was from a while back but I just came across it. Not exactly textbook, but it worked out.

Local Glory Days

2009-06-08T09:06:00.000-07:00

A stalled low-pressure system provided several days of good-to-great soaring conditions. Flew a couple of hours from Levin Friday, including a golden eagle, and 3 hrs from Mission the next day. Flew down to Levin LZ that day and almost sank out, but managed to get back up, toplanded several times at Mission. John Taylor was out for his 2nd? flight at Mission, Ryan flew his new Litespeed for the first time, it was just a gorgeous day and everyone had a blast.

Owens Valley-- Mem Day '09

2009-05-26T11:50:00.000-07:00

Wings of Rogallo had a strong (dominant!) presence at Walt's this weekend. Several first-timers put in impressive performances, showing good skills and judgement regarding conditions, which tended toward early overdevelopment and occaisionally "interesting" flying. Congrats to Ryan, Dirk and Mike, and everyone, really. Good flying.

Scott and I were returning for our second trip here, and both stretched our distances over last year. Scott's fiance Rhonda drove for us as well as keeping us in launch sandwiches and good humor. The Sierras were their usual gorgeous selves, festooned this weekend with a variety of clouds.

5/22/09. Walt’s to Big Ears. 52.6 mi. Launched at noon. Got to 13,500 pretty quick, headed north. Clouds developing over Sierra almost from start. Decent lift punctuated by heavy sink—1500 plus down. Really pulled in a lot, used VG, flew fast(for me) from ridge to ridge. Encountered some snow flurries. I was flirting with the edges to get lift and moving toward the valley when viz got sketchy. Basically a lot of fun. Just past Onion Valley (at 13 k) hit some 0g, then heavy twangs. Thought I was past it, then hit sudden massive sink. Vario pegged at 2000 down, then the bottom dropped out (very light in the harness). I could hardly believe it. Down to 7000’ in no time. Scary, as it was taking me straight down into a heavily bouldered area, didn’t seem to be anything I could do. My topless rocket was getting .5 to 1 glide. Unzipped ~300 agl, when I hit a bump. It felt solid, I turned, re-gained a couple K. I was shaken, didn’t trust anything, kept on into valley to make sure I had an lz on glide. Bubbles. Followed 395 for several miles, drifting N and E. Crossed fish pond, Mazurka road. OD over Whites had me skirting clouds ~ 8-9k (me, not them). Finally the clouds from Sierras and Whites started to converge, I bailed to Big Ears. Had to dive pretty hard to get down. Good landing in 15-20 S. Rhonda and Scott picked me up. Interesting day, and a bit further than I’d gone before.

5/23/09
Weather looked similar to yesterday, but developing even earlier. Launched ~10:15. Decent flying, nice views. I was wary approaching Onion Valley. Since I only had 12 K, I gave it a wide berth to the valley side. Weather looked likely to shut down the day before too long, so I opted for an easy landing near Aberdeen for maybe 35 miles. Ryan landed nearby--great first flight in the Owens.
Ryan brings it in near Aberdeen.

5/24/09
Got another early start. I was finding even better climbs than the past couple of days, frequently reaching cloudbase at 14.5k or so. No tailwind today, maybe even slight headwind, so progress north seemed slow. Saw Bruce and later Ben as they passed me. Passed high over Whitney Portal and Onion Valley, enjoying spectacular views. Still was wary of the area but nothing of note. Pissed on it just for good measure and moved on.
Friendly cu’s along the way, but I started noticing a huge tongue of dense, very high, cloud reaching into my path from the west. Didn’t know what to make of it. Not cu, and not cirrus, clearly being pushed by strong wind aloft. Possibly lenticular? Didn’t look quite right for that either, more like some errant tendril of the jet stream coming down to visit.* Eventually I headed east somewhere past Big Pine (My GPS kept shutting off, I think the cold was getting to my batteries, so I’m not sure exactly where I left the Sierras.)
Made the crossing with no issues, but that tongue kept reaching farther east, I wanted to get clear of it but wasn’t moving fast enough. Hit Black’s (a first for me) around 8K with Brian F overtaking me. Quickly climbed to 14.5 under a growing cu. Brian didn’t like the weather and went out to land. I raced north a bit further, but found alternating heavy lift and sink, and the Devil Tongue kept licking at my heels.
The hundred miler was beckoning, but with no GPS, faint familiarity with the landmarks further north, and vaguely threatening weather which I didn’t understand, I moved away from the peaks and closer to the foothills, still headed north. The weather uprange looked strong but fine, but I just wasn’t feeling comfortable with the situation where I was, so I left the hills after Flynn’s and landed along 6 between Flynn’s and Chalfant for 66 miles. My LZ was clear enough to pull off the no winder OK, but it was a hellish breakdown spot—half and half talcum powder and nasty stickers, and very hot.
Rhonda had trouble getting to Scott for his pickup, so I had a couple of hours to watch the clouds. The elevator over Black turned into an impressive cu-nim, exploding high and wide into a classic anvil. The tongue continued to spread east and grow, but became less and less defined. The shade brought some relief from the heat. Mayflies suddenly appeared out of nowhere, followed by a busy squadron of dragonflies gobbling them up. Passers-by offered welcomed water and beer. Cu’s and virga developed north and south. My ride eventually appeared, and we quested north to find Rick Dumlao, who did 80+ but landed without radio or cellphone coverage, but fortunately near the highway. Just another day in the Owens.

I was a little grumpy about cutting off the flight, but it was still a best for me. Met up with Bruce and Sarah, Wayne, Eric, Matt, and their drivers Nile and Suzanna for pizza and a thorough debrief on the day. Bruce, Ben and Steve all went better than 100 miles, though Bruce had to sacrifice a control bar($ouch$) and a modicum of flesh. Eric and Wayne also had good flights. Matt got stuck in the launch queue and didn’t get off before it started raining. (argggh).

*Bruce was able to enlighten me regarding the Evil Tongue—there had been T-storms over the West side of the Sierras, and what we saw was the dissipating remnants of those cu-nims being carried over the mountains by high westerlies. Ya learn something new every time.

Mount St. Helena Fly-in

2009-05-11T13:58:00.000-07:00

The Sonoma boys hosted yet another successful fly-in over the weekend. Ryan G and I drove up to meet 20 other pilots and fly the the wine country, had a great time. First time there for both of us. Scenery was beautiful and green, lift abundant, beer cold.
Launch is 4k, was able to get 5800 a couple of times. You could pretty much fly as long as you wanted, but it was really choppy. Also, right around the mountain it seemed quite sinky, so everyone congregated over the peak and it got pretty busy sometimes. Fewer people, but not as organized as say, Chelan launch with 40 wings ;-)
I think I was probably over-correcting the glider a bit (hadn't been flying the litespeed much lately) but was kinda beat up after 1:30 and headed beerward.
View from over the peak, pretty sure that's Bob Stanley in lower left corner. Whether he's coring something tight or going over the falls I couldn't say. Either was pretty possible.

Oddly, once I left the peak at ~5400, I pulled rope, got past the sink zone, and found myself in completely smooooth air w zero sink--cruised at 35 mph for 5 minutes w no loss, then s-l-o-w-l-y settled down after that. The last 15 minutes of the flight were really nice, just glassy. Cruised around the valley a bit, then went in to land. Nice to fly the litespeed again, its just a nice-flying wing.
Found the right field and landed close enough to the target for a T-shirt. Some competitors took a unique lawn-dart approach to hitting the spot. If they'd told me those still counted, I'm sure I would have done better.
The BBQ was superlative, nice camping under a full moon. Great hanging out with the ever-colorful SW crew.
There were some other happenings on Sunday, so only 4 of stuck around to fly. Conditions were similar. I flew for a (short) while with what we later identified as a pair of golden eagles. Which is to say I saw them near me start to circle, turned into it with them, and watched them promptly disappear overhead. Damn locals.

Wind had picked up to 10-20 in the LZ. OK as such, but it was coming directly over a big row of trees on the long side of the field. The grass/weeds in the field were tall enough to illustrate nicely what big tree rotor looks like on the ground. I tried to land downwind of a small gap in the trees, but if there was a clean channel, it eluded me, so I got to try out the lawn dart method. Nothing broke, but I still don't see why its so popular.

Anyway, fun weekend. Thanks Sonoma Wings!

Finally!

2009-05-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

4-26-09
Red letter day. After yet another cycle(or 3) of accumulated/obliterated pairs of H4 spots, I finally hit 3 in a row and get the rating. Good timing, as the joys of knitting and putt-putt golf were beginning to exert their powerful allure.
Thanks to all who observed, drove, coached, and refrained from laughing their asses off (at least in my presence) during all the fun.

4-28-09
Ok, ok it was all worth it. Flew Mission Peak for the first time, with Karl, Carm, Roy, and Doug Hahn—easy ride to cloudbase, flew nearly 2 hrs, top landed a couple of times—hey this local mountain soaring stuff is easy! Somebody should tell the guys…. Just remember to duck when the big planes come by.

Catching Up, Ditch Suck, etc.

2009-05-11T12:02:00.000-07:00

So, finally found that pesky camera cable. Sandia Peak launch pics didn't do it justice, let's move on to the LZ.
Not sure why, but enough of my 'local' sites seem to have small ditches or creekbeds or some such in/near the LZ that we recognize a phenomenon called ditch suck-- way more pilots seem to land (or better, whack) into these features than the relatively small area justifies. The main Sandia LZ is a long skinny field oriented to the prevailing wind. I say long, but the downwind half is pretty rough- cactus, rocks, etc--not really a good place to put down, but good to set up your approach--no powerlines. The second half is pretty clean. But crossing it, right in the middle....the mother of all ditches. This sucker is a concrete lined culvert 15 or 20 feet wide and 8' deep-- the mind boggles at the possibilities. The photo was taken standing in the bottom, you can see the sock in the distance. If you suffer object fixation, do not land here!

Also drove out to La Bajada, a ridge-soaring mesa 45 minutes north of Albuquerque. Rugged, volcanic, long ridge- reminded me a bit of Hat Creek. Good-looking spot, though the edge was very sharp and rotor-y-- could feel it even 300 or 400 meters downwind. Of course that was with 40 mph steady and higher gusts. I exercised my razor sharp judgement and elected not to set up.

La Bajada from below.

The view from launch.

After getting blown out in New Mexico, I headed up to Denver to visit my sister to get snowed in.

Of course, it could have been worse.

After a few days I braved more blizzardy conditions across Wyoming to Salt Lake to see Heather and Adrian. (Heavy winds and falling/blowing snow made an already lunar landscape seriously surreal.) It cleared getting into the flats. They've got a great place 3 minutes from Point of the Mountain launch. Lots of pilots congregate in the neighborhood, even on a wintery weekend it was a lot of fun... summer sounds like flying/party central. Imagine Funston with a golf-green launch/top land area, pilots living walking distance all round, and consistent warm weather. The hardcores fly all day and then bbq while the working types fly/land/provide entertainment in the evening.

Last stop was Reno for a couple of days, visited with Bruce and Sarah—their new kitchen is starting to take shape. Flew Duck. After watching an H2 on his first high-altitude flight just about sky out flying a straight line, we watched the cycles promptly weaken then die. Scratched hard to get a slightly extended sledder; of course Bruce extended his just long enough to make me land first—damn locals. Shouldn’t whine though, it provided the sum total of my flying time for a 3k (driving) miles trip. Still, got to see lots of family and friends, generally had a good time, so I’ll stop my (non)whining.

Sandia

2009-03-23T18:43:00.000-07:00

I was headed to Albuquerque for a few days and decided to strap on the glider and make it a road trip. First stop was Sandia Peak. Its been blown out the days I had available to fly so I haven't actually flown it, but the set up is worth describing.
Its a high (10,300) launch just outside of town-- the LZ is in town. The peak launch is H4 only, but there is also a Sandia Crest launch for the little people(yes still including myself), actually a bit higher.
The peak is not exactly your typical hg launch. There is a tram that goes to the top (and a restaurant, giftshop,etc), and they are happy to strap your wing onto the top of the gondola. The normal ticket is $15 bucks and I was expecting you'd pay extra for the wing but actually they just charge half price since its a one-way ticket. How cool is that?
The setup area is rocky (worn smooth though) and level and immediately adjacent to the launch. The launch is a steep, narrow, but smooth "impoved dirt" ramp (actually looks like fine gravel but I don't think it could stick to that slope by itself), that falls away nearly vertical at the end. It reminds me of Walt's but steeper if that's possible. Nice ridge to either side, spines on either side but quite some distance out. I also checked out the LZ, more on that later.
Right now I'm in Santa Fe, with tentative plans to fly La Bajada, a nearby mesa (southwest of town) that takes NW wind (what we have) well for ridge lift and often good thermal potential. Weatherman sez wind will back off tomorrow but its still howling at 7 PM so we'll see. The country around here is spectacular and I'm really hoping to see it from the air. Soon.
Looking through my bag it appears I packed the wrong camera cable so I can't upload pics, which kind of sucks but there you go.

No news is good news?

2008-09-05T11:14:00.000-07:00

Not much going on here. Sounds like good times were had at Indian Valley over Labor Dayy. Sorry to miss the fun but a little break hasn't been bad. The knee is knitting though still can't bend it past 90 deg and it tends to swell in the afternoons, so I'm still babying it (no flying). Hoping to get back in the air in a couple of weeks.

Lakeview WrapUp

2008-08-24T06:34:00.000-07:00

Chris V hucks himself into the blue.
Well we had a couple of no-fly days due to high winds, and I was hopeful (if not quite optimistic) that I would be able to resume flying when the weather got more cooperative. The knee continued to stiffen however, so Thursday I drove for Tom, and ended up picking up Doc as well. It was the first time I've chased; it was fun, more than I expected. Not as exciting as flying, but totally enjoyable in a vicarious way, and much more relaxed.

Ken gets some pre-flight strategic advice.
Wayne hit some turbulence on landing that day and unfortunately dislocated his shoulder, so Gerry, Sarah, Wayne, and I went back to retrieve his glider after he got back from the hospital. I've never dislocated a shoulder, I assume its pretty painful, but Wayne really didn't let it get in his way much. With flying for this meet over for both of us, the gimp patrol decided to head on back home. Hated to miss out on the final results and BBQ, but other aspects of life were beckoning (oh yeah, other aspects of life, I had forgotten about those...).

Tom poised to launch.
We went up to launch Friday and saw people off. Turned out to be a good thing, since Ben D. had misplaced a tip wand and basically didn't have a glider, so he used Ben R's, which we had on Wayne's truck. It was a light wind, light lift day. Several times it looked like whole squads of pilots were getting flushed near launch, but somehow persevered. Tom Flynn had a great comeback, getting really low early but ending up second for the day in sport class! Peter Wem also had a good day Friday, his flying has been very consistent this week.
Zac Majors had great flights almost every day, and won the comp. Ben, Bruce and Gerry put in very respectable performances, finishing up 6, 8, and 10th respectively in a field of very strong pilots. As for me, well, my lesson from Lakeview is that its really hard to score points on the ground ;-)

Lakeview Nationals Day 2

2008-08-19T12:46:00.000-07:00

(or Another Rough Day in the life of Joe's Knee).

We had quite a show of thunderstorms last night, quite impressive. The weather still looked iffy in the morning but showed some indications of improving. Wind on launch was quite strong, and the race committee selected a long, mostly downwind task for the day.
I had a somewhat frustrating time over launch, climbing to 10k a couple of times and then losing it.
Wayne climbing out in front of Sugar launch
The third time I went fishing way out front as a promising cloud rolled in, caught it, and followed it over the back of the ridge. Made the gap, though not with a lot of altitude, and moved north along the front, finding patchy lift. Scratched lower, with a few promising moments but no big gains.
I had one good run up a spine, and was hoping to repeat that as I followed patch of sunlight back into a canyon near Barnes Creek. I knew I was pushing it, but apparently I had used up my reserves of caution the prior day. The lift didn't amount to anything, and when I turned back I realized had probably pushed a little too far. The glide out of the canyon looked pretty challenging. (from the track it looks like I might have had a glide out but the photo below gives a little truer indication)
There was a bare patch of gravel on the slope ahead to my right and beyond that all it was pretty much all trees until out on the flats. I had 10 or 15 seconds to think about it, concluded that chances of getting to the flats were little better than 50/50, so I went for a fly-on-the-wall at the gravelly bit.
Very nearly pulled it off but flared a bit too soon. When the glider stopped I was a few feet higher than I planned and dropped down fairly hard, hitting my knee (yes the left one) on a rock, and taking out a downtube.
My double thick pants were shredded and the knee hurt quite a bit; once I dusted myself off I was relieved to find I could still walk on it. It looked bad though, so I put some gauze and tape over it, as much not to see my kneecap swimming around as to keep junk out.
Didn't have radio contact right off, and was planning to hike out before things stiffened up, but then raised a driver, relayed my position, and decided to pack up and mark a waypoint before leaving so I could relocate the wing.
It was about 800 feet vertical down to the valley floor, and I carried my harness down maybe a quarter of it when Tom Flynn and our driver, Justin arrived below me. With a little cajoling and promises of an extravagant dinner they they came up to help me pack out the glider. It was a bit of a struggle but was fortunately all downhill (if steep), and we made it in less than an hour, with them doing the lions share, despite Tom's iffy back and Justin's sandals. Its at times like these that you learn the quality of your friends and I was lucky today in more ways than one. I'm in your debt, guys.
Got back to HQ, checked in, etc. Looked closer at the knee and decided it might need something more that Bactine and a bandaid. Gerry took me to the local ER. They were very nice (gotta love these smaller towns) and fixed me right up with a few stitches. Gerry also got a nice snap for posterity prior to the patch-up.

Doc sez don't bend it so I'm probably out of the flying for a few days, but hey an extra driver is always handy to have around. There were some impressive flights made by other pilots today, Chris Valley for one set a personal best. Way to go Chris!

Lakeview Nationls-Day 1

2008-08-19T07:06:00.000-07:00

Day 1 task was a partial out & back, from Sugar N to Lodge and Ennis, then back to Hunter's Hot Springs, which is meet HQ. Despite generally good lift, there were some large blue holes which made the task pretty challenging. The total distance was something like 70 miles, and only two pilots made goal, Zippy and Bill Sodderquist, though several others got close. My flight started out well with a nice climb out from launch and a swift crossing of the first gap. I still was fairly high and could see strong cummies over the back ridge, which I thought I could glide to and get up again underneath. However there were not any good LZ's that I knew of, so I played it more cautiously and stayed toward the front ridge near Hwy 395. The lift there was weaker, and after wending my way along the range for a few miles, ran out of air and headed out to land.
My new streamer holder next to my camera made access easy and stress free, a big improvement over having to dig in my harness. Wind was light W off the lake and I had my best landing in quite some time, nearly perfect, and it felt good. 16 miles for the day, less than I had hoped for with such a promising start, but there you go.

The Other Side of the Scale

2008-08-13T15:45:00.000-07:00

St John Fly-in 2008

Well this is a flight report, but from a slightly different perspective (and with a longer preamble) than usual. It may be interesting, but if you dislike semi-philosophical ramblings, this is your last best chance to duck a few.

So I was having this debate recently with a friend about what kind of risks were involved in hang gliding (among other things), and were they worth taking on, given the rewards. We talked of probability trees, how many events you had to string along together to have a really bad outcome, charmed lives and blind luck and what that might or might not imply about the nature of human existence. One of those conversations. I said I was not a risk seeker per se, but that I had assumed certain risks here and there in my life and that without allowing those into the equation there were a whole lot of really special moments in my life that never would have happened. And he pointed out that while sure I had done these things, and it had worked out so far, basically I had just been damn-assed lucky to get away with them and that I’d be singing a different tune were I big league paralyzed or so brain-bashed I couldn’t take care of myself. And I couldn’t really argue with that, I probably would be. I can only speak from where I am.

So this flight at St John was the second day of the recent fly-in, and it was a pretty enjoyable flight, and it ended with me scratching 30 seconds too long and setting up my landing 30 seconds too late and (probably (the wind was switchy) therefore) landing slightly downwind and slightly downhill and slightly not pulling it off. I slid ten yards through starthistle (in shorts) and rubbed good bit of the tan off of one leg. It smarted, but a skinned knee is a pretty minor deal in the panoply of possible outcomes. So was it worth it? Hell yeah. How about if I’d broken my glider ? My leg? My neck? Well clearly at some point most people would say it wasn’t.

But to really make that call, you’d also have to examine pretty carefully what you’re weighing against—the good things about that flight, what today I’ll call the Other Side of the Scale. The reasons we fly. As I remember and retell this, think about how frigging unlikely the whole scenario is. Rarity is certainly not the final measure of value, but sometimes I think we forget just how special some of our options are, and how few souls in the dragged out history of man have had anything like them on offer.

I got up that morning on a beautiful day on a beautiful planet, in a particularly attractive corner of that planet, and, with some people I’ve come to know and like and respect, drove up to the top of a mountain. And we brought with us these contraptions made of dacron and aluminum and (ok fine some mylar and carbon fiber too) that other people had dreamed and designed and tested and refined and bled over, so that we could just pull them off the trucks and start unfolding.

And on this sunny morning on the mountaintop we checked our gear, and rechecked some of it, and watched—truly observed--and considered-- the wind and sun and clouds and omens of said day and then stood on the rocky slope of said mountain. And at some point we checked our guts and our hang straps, checked the wind once again, and, with a deep breath and a very well focused mind, took our fate in our hands and ran down the mountain.
After that, people’s experiences were (at least superficially) more varied. Some went up, some down. Some flew long, others shorter, and everybody made their own landing. But this is my flight report, so I’ll stick to my knitting.

The goal for the day was Gilmore Peak, 11 miles distant, with a return to Mary’s for another 3 or 4 miles. Never mind was this an epic flight or hard task or not, it was the goal, and I hoped and wanted to reach it.

From this mountain, with no lift, you’d do well to get to someplace you wouldn’t have to stretch too far to call an LZ. But there was some lift, and I happened onto it, and rose instead of sinking. I enjoyed the view. And my senses were alive and I found tiny lift lines and I flew across the gap between St John and the mountains to the south, and got to the foothills some 3 miles north of Gilmore Peak, the turnpoint. I had gotten pretty low and spent 15 or 20 minutes scratching, 200 or 300 (or sometimes only 100) above the little spines and peaklets. Little puffs urged me upwards, and then piffled out and I plunged a bit closer to the trees and gave some ground, and then found another puff and got it back. Talk about alert. It took everything I had to stay up. And the whole time I was considering my glide out to the valley floor, how far from a road I might be, and what if, right *now*, I hit some sink that wouldn’t give up. Not once however, did I worry about my rent, or my portfolio, or my daughter’s grades or nagging pains or generalized existential angst. None of it.

Along comes my friend Bruce, a great guy and really skilled pilot. He is also quite low, but over the valley, on his way back after already tagging Gilmore. He comes over to fly with me, and I am a little surprised- I must look like I’m doing better than I am, or maybe he is just really desperate. Or maybe he is just being nice and hoping to show me the way a little bit. Regardless, I’m subtly flattered because we are both scratching pretty close to terrain and pretty close to each other, and he apparently has enough confidence in me as a pilot to do this. (Of course its not too long before he’s above me, if only by 100 feet--so maybe he’s just confident I won’t fall up on him ;-) And I watch and try to learn a bit (while still trying to stay up myself). We circle and flutter and swoop, its that sort of flying and its kind of cool in its own very tenuous way. And then at some point he zigs and I zag and apparently he made the better call because he is now up (if only a little) and on his way and I am down (if only a little) and give up on the last couple hundred feet of hills and head out to the valley and probably to land, though I’m still looking and working and hoping. And I get to a clear spot near the road and its not quite flat and I don’t quite know the wind direction and well we’ve talked about that already and this isn’t a technical article. Its just about flying, and pushing yourself as far as you dare (hopefully not writing checks you can’t cash), and opening your senses to the beauty and possibilities of the world around you, and really living in this moment we’ve been given that won’t be comin’ back.
And that’s what’s on the other side of the Scale.

(Plus I got 2 t-shirts and a really nifty Flytec jacket.)

King Mtn

2008-07-23T11:31:00.000-07:00

King Mtn Meet

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.