A Few Words about Learning to Kiteboard

Great sport.  More technical than I realized going into it.  Having done other things (surfing, skateboards, windsurf, hangliding, etc) I expected it to come pretty quickly but I struggled through a number of rather discouraging sessions before it all started coming together and I really started flying.

First:

TAKE A LESSON (or 3)

This is in fact a somewhat extreme sport—you are playing with forces that can literally pick your body up and throw it against the nearest solid object (rock, tree, car, person, sandbar, you name it) so don’t be stupid.  A qualified instructor can teach you the basics of kite handling, guide you through and around the pitfalls you don’t even know exist, and generally help you survive, learn and actually have fun!  You will also get acquainted with modern, safe gear and what size and types are appropriate for you and the conditions.  Added bonus—your newbie crashes will be with somebody else’s gear.  Don’t underestimate this advantage :)

I did take a couple of lessons, did learn the basics and then got my own gear and started working on it.  In hindsight, probably another couple of lessons would have helped me avoid or lessen some of the early struggles I had.   A lot of my early issues centered around being in slightly marginal conditions with slightly small gear (i.e. underpowered) so that will be my focus, but I bet these are not uncommon problems.

1.     Power = (Wind x Kite x Board)  To successfully plane on the water requires enough wind, kite and board (for your body weight).  If you don’t have this minimum, it aint gonna happen.  A big wide flat board helps tremendously here and let’s you get away with less kite for a given wind, which can really help.  If you are not getting up, you are either not diving the kite aggressively enough or you are deficient in Power.

2.     Technique.  It helps, can reduce your minimum required Power significantly, but you don’t have it yet.  Elements:

3.     You gotta start downwind.  This will build your speed, get you planning.  Then you can start edging upwind. The kite generates more power the faster it flies (apparent wind effect). If you are popping up ok but then sinking out, it is possible you may not have quite enough Power, but also possible you are choking out the kite by starting upwind too soon.  Try a couple of deliberately more downwind runs and see what happens.

4.     Initial dive.  Some of the power of the kite is in the momentum of the initial dive.  You can use this to yank yourself up, but then may have nothing left to keep going.  Try to help the kite—as you dive it, roll your head and shoulders forward over the board and then straighten your legs to get up.  If you can help the kite get you up, you can avoid stopping it in its tracks and therefore not having any juice to help get moving forward.

5.     Stance.  This is a biggie.  If you think of yourself as an inanimate object (think little plastic army man) getting pulled around by a kite, it will be obvious that where you go and how it works will depend a lot on your body position.  To start, point board 45 degrees downwind.  Your stance coming up will be front leg mostly extended, back leg somewhat bent.  70% weight  back will get you in the ballpark.  Lift your toes to find your edge.  For me, focusing on my back heel, getting some weigh put down there, helped me get going and in control.

That’s pretty much it from me.  There is a ton of material on the web and youtube to show basic techniques, but I haven’t seen much analysis, which would have helped me a lot.  It’s a subtle sport, the fine points matter.  Hope this helps you crack the code—be safe and have fun!

Well, as usual, I'm months behind on posting even the important stuff.  Of course the big news right now is the fire, but to get caught up  little first:

I finished the boat & oars, it was a thing of beauty(I do say so myself) and rowed like a dream.  I had a solid 6 or 7 months of exercise and adventure rowing and sailing.  I rowed around a few islands, through canals, cuts and channels, Atlantic and Gulf sides, went several miles offshore once or twice, chased some fish, and found out just how strong some of the currents around here can be. I rowed at dawn with the ospreys and fishing captains, at sunset with some lovely ladies and and at midnight accompanied only by the moon and dolphins, breathing quietly but unseen in the velvet dark around me.
***
Over the summer I joined a new gallery--The Gallery on Green, owned by Nance Frank.  Its a nice gallery and I'm honored to be there.  My first sale there was last month:

"Morning Glory" Oil on panel, 32 x 40".

Some of you know I undertook a small boat-building project recently.  I had intended to show progress here along the way in real time, but never got to it (too busy building!)  But here are some progress pics and notes:

I'm living on a houseboat now and needed to get more exercise, so what else to do but build a rowboat?  I have rowed sculls in the past and liked them, but wanted something I could use in more conditions than dead-flat water on a calm day, so I started looking at plans.  Firefly and Liz both appealed to me, as did CLC's Annapolis Wherry, so I did a lot of comparison to those boats (each 18') when I designed mine( 15' 6").  Somewhere along the way I also decided I wanted the possibility of taking a passenger, or perhaps diving or camping gear, with me, so that had to be factored in also.  In small boat design, pretty much everything is a compromise between exclusive optima.

This was the second iteration of the design, based on those comparisons, and my own seat-of-the-pants calculations regarding buoyancy, weight distribution, and "length and skinniness":

 I'm building it stitch and glue(cool method, look it up), so the first order of business was to scarf together 2 sheets of plywood to get 16' lengths.  Here are the 1/4" sheets planed to a fine taper (8:1) to make the overlap:

 Here clamped together:

 Here I stitched together 2 pieces (using tie-wraps in holes drilled on 4" centers.  These are for the bottom, I only trimmed off 1/4" from each edge to get a feel for how much V-bottom that would create.  Doesn't take much!

Here I'm laying out the curves for the shape of the panels using a batten.  Though I had scaled several station heights off of the model, I found the best way to get nice curves was to use as few control points as possible (this of course is not news to anybody who's done it before :-)  I mostly used 2 endpoints and one or two points in between.  Let the wood do the work!

Here's the first test fitting.  You can see all the tie-wraps holding the bottom seam, the mold defining the V in the middle, and the spanish windlass at the front encouraging the wood.  The sharp eye will note a nice bit of compound curve developing in the surface of the panels, but also a slight upward convexity in the top edges. The convexity didn't look right to me so I flattened it again and re-cut the top edges and trimmed the bottom edges.

A closer look:

 The re-cut bottom panels, from the stern:

 One of the things I realized (over and over) during this project was that it would be going a lot faster if I had plans to work from.  I enjoyed doing the design, but never having built a boat before, there were a lot of decisions I couldn't make (or even envision clearly) until things progressed to a certain point-- had to be able to see what it looked like along the way.  I'm glad I did it this way, but if I were doing it a second time (which, gasp, has occurred to me), I would either spend more time up front creating a detailed design, or choosing and modifying someone else' plans.

With the bottom shape determined (except for details like the stern), I stitched the panels back together and started fitting the sides.  Same method, determine some control points and let the wood make the shape.

 And presto, a hull!

 You may have noticed another, smaller, boat next to mine in some of the pics.  That one belongs to A.D. Tinkham, another painter and studio neighbor of mine.  Great guy, I first got to know him last fall, and we've spent some good time talking together about painting, life, etc.  He's also an accomplished sailor and boat captain, and has built several boats in the past.  It was his decision to build himself a new tender for his sailboat, and the availability of the workspace, that really turned my daydreams of having something to exercise with on the water into action.  He built his with a more traditional process, creating molds and frames on a strongback, then planking it with plywood.  So I couldn't really copy his process (plus his boat was so short), but he was an inspiration and a source of information and encouragement all along the way.  I think we both benefited from having someone to bitch to when things were going sideways, or to bounce ideas off of.  Some of his advice was worth(in his words) about what I paid for it, but still...
Thanks, A.D.  !

Next up, joys of fiberglass!

My first solo exhibit opened last week at Stone Soup Gallery in KW.  It's titled Time and Tide:  Finding Life at Water's Edge, and was inspired by the natural beauty of the island, particularly the beach.
A lot of effort getting all the paintings together, framed, promoting the show, etc, but also good fun, and I was pleased with the results.   Enjoyed the opening immensely.  It was well attended, and I got to talk to a lot of people, both new and old friends.

 

A lot of the crowd was Just Looking, out enjoying the Walk on White, but we managed to garner a smattering of red dots over the course of the evening, and I look forward to the rest of the run.
The entire collection is up on my website (link at top of page), under the New Work: Time and Tide tab.

This project was made possible in part by granting from the Anne McKee Artist's Fund of the Florida Keys.

Nurses and 'cudas and bulls, oh my!

Interesting dive yesterday.

Black grouper season opened May 1, but yesterday (the 5th) was the first day we could get out. Its been windy most of the spring and while I’ve done a little snorkeling and swimming, actual diving has been minimal. So we were all pretty stoked to be getting out on the water, esp since the wind felt lighter than predicted and the viz, at 20’ was not spectacular but more than adequate, esp since we were generally no deeper than that.

We were 3 divers and 2 line fishermen on Ashley’s boat Alternative Medicine and we hit it with enthusiasm. Found a nice rocky/reefy area, saw several grouper, legal (24”) and larger. I spent 15 seconds lying on the bottom exchanging looks with one larger fellow under a ledge. His head was big, but I couldn’t see body/markings and wasn’t sure it was a black. I don’t really cotton to shooting first and asking questions later, but when he turned to go and I saw his full size, I regretted not taking the shot. Still, cool to see. At one point I saw a commotion and cloud of dust in the reef where a couple of nurse sharks were tusseling with something. Tom said later he’d seen a bull shark in the area but I didn’t see it and suspected mistaken identity, though he’s a very experienced diver and I’ve no real reason to doubt him. Anyway….

After several hours of enjoyable but not super productive diving, we were lounging on the boat with some spicy Thai peanut/beef wraps and sangria Mandy brought . Sun was getting lower, and people were making noises about heading back, but nobody actually moving and I figured I could slip in for 20 minutes and one more pass at the reef.

The current had gotten stronger while we were on the boat, and while I could make good progress against it and the spot wasn’t far away, I was a bit winded (ie totally out of shape) when I got there. The shooting line bungee on my Rob Allen 120 had broken on the last dive, so I had borrowed Ashley’s mid-handle Riffe. It was a little shorter and better for the reef anyway.

The reef was just lit up with activity—big schools of shimmering bar jack, and several larger mackerel were cruising through and if I weren’t grouper-eyed, I could have had good fun with those. But then I did spot a decent sized black, and while he was going around the corner of the reef, he didn’t look in a hurry so I decided to track him a bit. After a few dives I found him holed up and took my shot—and missed. Managed a solid hit on the reef however and Ash’s shaft was doing a pretty good impression of Arthur’s sword Excalibur, defying my repeated attempts to pull it. The kicker was that damned grouper just hung around watching and taunting the whole time, never more than 15’ away.

I entrusted Ash’s gun to Neptune for a few minutes while I swam back to the boat and got my Rob Allen. First things first. I relocated the spot, and gun –and grouper, still out in the open, but close to cover. Still 15’ off, I lined up and popped him. It was a mid-body center of mass shot, and the way he shuddered when hit I thought close to a spine shot. But then he made a strong run toward the reef and I had to fight to keep him out, and then to my surprise and dismay, he tore off.

Well.

I saw where he entered the reef and kept an eye on the area while I reloaded, breathed up, and waited for the current to wash out the dust cloud. I dropped down into a pretty little crack with a 3' sand channel in the bottom. Peering into a cave, I could see him, a little ways back in, but not wedged or anything; if I shot him I could pull him out. I backed my head out in order to get the longer gun in position and was thinking about another breath in case it turned into a wrestling match. I looked up just in time to see a 6’ nurse pass maybe two feet over my head. They’re friendly, right?  Or at least harmless?  Well I was startled, but went up to get my breath and then finish the job. Up top I could see another 6 or 7’nurse also prowling, and 3 of the big barracuda I’d been seeing off and on all day had suddenly materialized as well. Hmm. This was getting interesting. Well heck. I checked behind me to make sure nobody *else* was coming to the party, then dropped, took the shot, and pulled out the fish and headed up, holding him close. He was smaller than I’d thought, though legal, but---no second hole! A different fish! What were the chances? WTF?

I swam fast swivel-necking back to the boat, dropped the fish and gun, aware of the fading light and Ashley’s gun still stuck in the reef. They asked if I wanted backup, but I was feeling sort of embarrassed about the whole episode and knew everyone was ready to leave, and just wanted to clean up this mess and go, so I declined. Probably not bright, but adrenaline and a little O2 deprivation don’t always make for the best judgement.

Swam back (again!), found the gun (again). There was still a lot of activity which I was a little nervous turning my back on, but a closer look in the back of the hole revealed the flopper wasn’t stuck, and a bit of judicious wiggling in the hole finally got it free. I reloaded and made a couple of dives searching for the still missing and probably dying fish, but so were the nurse sharks and ‘cudas. I thought I could follow, using their scenting to find the fish, but they were hot on it’s trail--darting, prowling, twisting, swerving back, just getting a little too worked up for my taste. Meanwhile the others had pulled anchor and motored over to me. I felt bad about abandoning the fish, but it really was getting a little hinky down there, and darker, and there were friends and beverages on the boat, and it just seemed like a good call to move toward the light. So I did. ☺

2011 in Review

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.

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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!

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

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

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

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.

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