Winding Down

Fall is fast approaching, which means that cross-country season is once again coming to a close. Last weekend, however, Ken and I were blessed with another day of XC potential at Woodrat. Ken is quickly dialing into his 'new' U2 145, and he certainly demonstrated it on Saturday with a nice out-and-back to Mt. Isabelle, seven miles out from Woodrat launch. That's the farthest we've flown together from the mountain so far. Most impressive is when Ken came in low over Raby's Peak, close enough that he could smell the pine needles, and with a bit of encouraging, pushed a little farther until he found a core that took him to 7.5k and made his flight over Isabelle a cake walk. Meanwhile, I was working some elusive lift back behind Sugarloaf before topping out at the same altitude. From there, it was a relatively easy glide across Humbug Gap to a nice climber to 7.6k over Old Blue and a continuation up the ridge toward Grants Pass. Sadly though, Old Blue was the last thermal I could find, and I had to settle for a 14-miler to Missouri Flats. Seeing Ken push his personal envelope made my day though.

Ken and I had been discussing making another trip to Lakeview while the lapse rates were still decent for that area, and the opportunity presented itself when I'd read some emails from some pilots up north who had the same idea in mind as well. I passed along the messages to Ken and we agreed upon the weekend of the 22nd & 23rd, but unfortunately a family emergency made it impossible for Ken to attend which left me to make the trip solo.

I met up with two other pilots at the campground, Scott & Casey, on Friday night, and they told me that Ray, Ron, and John were staying over at the hot springs next door. The hot springs pilots were all toting rigid wings, highly efficient gliders with a better glide ratio than our much less sophisticated flex wings. We all met up the next morning with Mark the local site guide and Mike the local hang gliding guru (who'd volunteered to drive for us) and headed up to Sugar for an attempt at Lakeview and, if possible, points beyond. The weather looked favorable, but not epic, for some cross-country flying, and we were all excited about the late-season prospects.

There were three falcon pilots on launch when we began setting up, and all three flew the ridge briefly before heading to the bailout. We were discouraged at first, but kept reminding ourselves that they were flying single-surfaced wings and were here for the first time & weren't used to the rock-n-roll ride that Sugar often delivers.

Eventually Scott, who'd also never flown the site, launched and reported that the air was big & rough - the same old Sugar I remembered - but he quickly climbed out and over the back. Casey launched next and began to climb as well. I was next, and I'd waited for a strong cycle & punched off just as it reached launch, sending me into an immediate vertical climb. I eased off to one side to allow the rigids to launch and then followed them across the face toward the lookout.

We all climbed immediately to around 11,500 and headed across Fandango Valley and toward Lakeview. I lost sight of the other wings at Fandango Peak, but the chatter on the radio was so frequent that I turned my volume low so I could hear my vario. I headed in deep over the main ridge and stayed there as long as I could to take advantage of the best lift. At New Pine Creek on the OR-CA border I headed toward the foothills to find a nice climber that took me back to 11,500. As I was climbing, I saw Casey low in the foothills below working hard to find a way up, but he eventually resigned himself to a landing at New Pine. I turned up the radio long enough to relay Casey's and my positions to Mike, but the chatter was still too distracting, so I turned it back down and continued up the range toward Lakeview.

Along the way, the lift was erratic and unorganized, and it took all my abilities to gain altitude. I did manage to gain enough to work the foothills into Lakeview, but it was still quite a stretch to make the lz. This would be my third flight to or beyond Lakeview. Scott found it equally difficult to eek out enough lift to make it over town, as did both Ron & John, but Ray found that last thermal we were all looking for - enough to get past town, on to Abert Rim and all the way to Wagontire. In contrast to Casey's 14-miler and our 25-30 mile runs, Ray went 102 miles from Sugar to the middle of the Oregon desert.

The next day started with a cloud bank over the mountains that shut out the sun until the afternoon. Strong gusts were blowing through the campground, so we all agreed that Sugar would likely be blown out. The rigid wing pilots decided to take the day off and Scott volunteered to drive for Casey & I who'd decided that with the forecast for west winds, Black Cap would be the best bet. Besides, I had to drive back to the Rogue Valley that evening and I didn't want to be too tired to make the drive safely.

We got up the mountain in time to find the sun emerging from the cloud cover and strong cycles rolling up the face. We set up and I launched first, working the face and above launch. As I began to circle I looked down in horror to see my radio dangling by the backup cord below me. Somehow it had managed to work its way out of the harness and was now on the verge of falling several hundred feet to certain destruction. I struggled to get it back into the harness and in the process lost all the altitude I'd managed to gain. By the time I had the radio secured, I was low enough that I had to leave the hill and head for the bailout lz. I wasn't pleased, but assured myself that a $200.00 radio was worth more than another flight.

I packed my gear and waited for Casey to launch next. Scott had my truck and all my gear on top of the mountain and wanted to stick around until after Casey launched, so I wasn't able to head out of town until then. So I waited - and waited - and waited. Finally I watched as Casey began his run down the shallow face, but was shocked to see his wing spin 180 degrees at the base of the slope with the nose pointed uphill. I radioed up for a status report, and Casey's shakey reply informed me that he was alright and nothing was broken. Apparently he began his run in a weak cycle and, feeling no lift on the wing, decided to 'abort' the launch. Considering that Casey has probably logged more time on a paraglider than a hang glider coupled with his later description of the circumstances, I suspect that his pg instincts kicked in and he felt that he could abort after committing to a launch. As far as I'm concerned, in hang gliding there are no 'aborted' launches - you either launch successfully or you blow the launch. An aborted launch means you changed your mind before starting your run, packed up your glider, and went home.

At any rate, Casey was alright, so all's well that ends well. But now I had to wait for Casey to break down his glider before Scott could bring my truck to me so I could leave town. It was well after 6pm by the time I was on the road, but I managed to make up enough time to be home by 9:30.

I suspect that from now toward the end of the season we'll be resigning ourselves to flying glassoffs at the Woodrat 'fishbowl', but I'm happy to have gotten in one or two final XC flights in before the end of the season. The get-together at Hat Creek is coming up in a couple of weeks, but for now it's back to instructing the fledglings...

Lessons

Ken and I have a great group of students going now. All three are exhibiting excellent potential, and if all goes well, we hope to have them flying at altitude before the close of the season.

Justin has been with us off and on for over a year, and now that we've got more or less regular classes, he's really starting to bring it all together. He came to us with a practically new Falcon 2 170 which he 'inherited' from a friend who left it with him to use while he is overseas. It's turned out to be an excellent trainer, and I wish we had a couple more of them to train with. After flying it down the training hill last Sunday for a little demo flight I was sold on this wing! Justin is also helping us with putting our website together and other business-related tasks.

David is a real go-getter with no fear, but at the same time he's got a good head on his shoulders. I think it's the right combination to make for a great pilot. Both Justin and David are getting very close to launching from the top of the training hill. They've had their first taste of flight and are hungry for more.

JJ started a lesson behind the other two, but he's hot on their heels. I would expect him to be working his way to the top in the next lesson.

We had another student, Krista, with whom we had high hopes. She was a dj with a couple of local radio stations. Her first lesson went very well, but unfortunately her work situation took a turn for the worse and she has to postpone for now. It's a real shame, not only because of her energy, but also because we were exchanging training for advertising, so we'll have to rely on word of mouth for now.

After a couple of false starts, things are coming together for the school, and we're anxious to get the new fledglings in the air with us soon.

Ketchup - Part 2

Fishbowl Flying in the Applegate
A few screenshots of recent flightlogs

7/23/09 - Just a fun little glassoff, screaming past the paragliders and going where they couldn't...

7/26/09 - Another glassoff - same scenario

8/1/09 - A 2-hour tour. The weather started getting rough - the tiny wing was tossed (sung to the tune of the Gilligan's Island theme).

Across the valley I worked up to cloudbase at 8,000 in very aggressive lift. Wires went slack a few times, and I came as close as I care to looping in a strong core. I landed just before the clouds covered the sky and the thunderboomers started. It looked pretty benign not long before that, but from the beneath a cloud it's hard to tell how tall it really is. I was glad to be on the ground...

8/8/09 - Wind from all directions at various altitudes. The smokey inversion kept everyone from getting above 6,000, but across the valley I managed to punch through and get to 7,800 in front of Wellington Butte. From there, it was an easy glide to Tallowbox to explore some new areas of the fishbowl.

More 'fishbowling' with our buddies from Eureka, CA. Much to my chagrin and after a big buildup, Raby's Ridge just wasn't working today. Eating crow is difficult - first you gotta catch one! Sorry guys - maybe next time. We'll be down to fly Funston with you...

Ketchup Part 1

It's been an eventful few weeks and I'm getting behind on my blogging, so it's time for some ketchup.

PART 1 - ROADTRIP

To start out, it was Juli's birthday on the 17th of July, and for her big day she wanted a road trip. I made a detour through Joseph, John Day, and Bend on my way back to Grants Pass from Sandpoint awhile back, and I told her how beautiful the drive was, so she decided that's where she wanted to go. I negotiated a few days off to make the trip, and thankfully my supervisor generously cooperated. I have to admit though that I was a bit selfish in making these plans. Two sites that I'd always wanted to fly just happened to lie along the route, one being Pine Mtn. near Bend and the other being Mt. Howard in Joseph.

Bend was the site from which the Oregon State cross-country record had been set (163 miles by Mike Tingy) , so I had high expectations. Unfortunately, high expectations often lead to high disappointments. The day before, Patrick Kruse, the local site orienteer reported that pilots had been getting up to 15,000-plus - a great start for a long XC flight. When I met up with Patrick, Scott, Joe our driver, and Chuck, however, the wind was switchy with a dominant north direction. The launch faces west, so that meant we'd have to wait for a reasonable cycle (at least 45 degrees from straight up the face) to launch.

Meanwhile, on the way up the mountain we came to a van that had driven partially off the narrow, steep road and was blocking the way to launch. A pickup belonging to paraglider pilots was parked about 100 yards below, and we'd heard that they'd hiked on up to launch, telling the occupants of the van that some hang gliders were on their way and would help out since we couldn't pass otherwise. So much for comraderie. We did help out and got the van back on the road, but in the process, another van belonging to a separate group of paragliders backed into the passenger door of my pickup. The driver was very upset & apologetic and gave me her number so we could coordinate repairs.

The flight wasn't anything to write home about. We each picked the best cycle we could find, and although the first two pilots managed to gain over 1,000', I launched into the downcycle and we all headed down to the bailout together. I landed first, flaring over the knee-high sagebrush for a no-stepper, and Scott followed with a not-so-pretty no-winder that resulted in a hard landing, destroying his control frame. Patrick followed next with a fast, hard flaring finish and both feet on the ground. Chuck launched after all of us and climbed to 12,000-plus for a nice out-and-back on his rigid wing. Timing is everything in this sport, and ours was just a bit off...

From Pine, we headed across the badlands of Oregon to the painted hills and Mitchell, where we booked a room in a historic hotel in this 'Twilight Zone' of a town. I won't go into the details of our 'adventure' here, except to say avoid room #10. In fact, avoid the hotel entirely - it's managed by a woman who would obviously rather be elsewhere if her dad wasn't running the gas station across the street and she didn't have two loud, obnoxious children tying her down to this spot. Henry the bear, who is caged at the gas station, also appeared to want to be elsewhere. So did we, and we left early the next day, stopping in John Day to tour a chinese heritage center (well worth the visit).

The highlight of the trip was Joseph, a beautiful little artist's community at the base of the Eagle Cap Wilderness. Joseph was named for Chief Joseph, the Nez Pierce leader who evaded the U.S. Cavalry led by General Howard in the mid-1800's. Howard was sent to round up Joseph's people and deliver them to a reservation in Idaho, but Joseph (originally named Thunder-Rolling-Down-The-Mountain) was a skilled tactician and eluded the cavalry for many miles, finally surrendering with his band of remaining warriors, elderly and children just a few miles from the Canadian border and freedom.

Joseph is a beautiful little town skirted to the south by the Wallowa Mountains, including Mount Howard. The top of Howard is accessed by tram, and here among the peaks towering 4,000' above the valley floor is where I hoped to fly from. This site and Glacier Point in Yosemite are the two main reasons I'd attained my advanced hang glider rating, which is required to fly both sites. Dr. Philip Stonebrook, the official site orienteer, was an old friend of mine. He and his wife, Jodie, had moved here from the Rogue Valley, and I had flown with Philip several times when I first got into this sport. Our plan was to pitch a tent in a nearby campground and visit the Stonebrooks, but Philip insisted that we stay at their place, enjoying the generosity of their comfortable accomodations, amazing meals and fine company. A good friend of theirs, Bob, was visiting from Ashland and insisted on buying us all dinner (Juli's birthday dinner) at the local pub. We gratefully accepted.

The next day Philip and I scouted out the bailout lz to Mount Howard as well as the alternate (and preferred) lz near his house several miles from the mountain. Then Philip, Jodie, Juli and I loaded my gear and headed for the park at the far side of Wallowa Lake where the tram departed for the top of the mountain. Some years ago Philip had created a system for attaching gliders to gondola cars to transport to the top, and it worked great. After a scenic trip up the tram we were at the top of Mt. Howard. We packed my wing and harness the 1/4 mile or so down the trail and I began my setup procedure as a small crowd gathered near launch. After assembly was complete, I climbed into my harness, carried the glider to launch, and awaited a good cycle while taking in the view of the lake and valley below and mountains to either side.

When a straight sustained cycle rolled up the face I launched to the cheers of the croud and headed out to where Philip told me I'd find the resident thermal. Sure enough it was where he said, and I began climbing slowly to about 9,500'. It was a weak core and eventually I topped it out, so I headed back out front to try to find another one. I'd dropped well below launch before heading back to where I'd first found lift. Fortunately, a hawk was working some lift in front of the hill, so I joined him, this time to find a strong core that took me to around 11,500'. At this point I was high enough that I could see deep into the wilderness behind launch and the mountain peaks that seemed to go on forever to the south. Deep blue mountain lakes were now visible, as were snow covered cirques and craggy peaks. What an incredible view!

After topping out, I radioed down that I was heading across the lake and over to Chief Joseph Mtn., a long steep ridge that continued several miles to the west. My hope was to work my way to the top of the ridge where more thermals would be found, but the best I could do was work to within a few hundred feet of the top. I managed to glide the entire length of the ridge, however, and well beyond the lz near Philip's house, so after working the foothills below the face while the clouds shut off the lift, I headed to the big field out front, dropped my wind flag, and set up for a nice smooth landing. Juli and Philip soon showed up to help load the gear, and we returned to enjoy more of Philip and Jodie's hospitality. The flight lasted about an hour and forty-five minutes, and I was in awe of the amazing scenery for most of it. I will definitely be back for more!