Awesome day of racing and swooping along the dunes of Cape Cod. The weather was perfect and the air smooth as glass.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
The Sand Man Cometh
Standing on the small head of a rather large rock, perched on the side of a mountain staring down at a descending sea of trees beneath my feet. Wings sniffing the air with anticipation. With each preparatory lift, the left wing would raise up with pressure unbalancing the control frame causing me to lay the base bar back on the cliff to regain control.
A thermal was lighting off, Tom Lanning and Russ Kelley were in a thermal off toward the ski area. Tom was climbing quick. I wanted to be in the air. I lifted my wings once more, adjusted the pitch of the nose, felt things neutral and yelled - CLEAR! I began my run down the steep face of the rock and immediately felt my left wing get lifted. I remember saying - "Oh Crap" out loud.
I punched through it and dove into the glider trying to get it into the air so I could correct the turn that was beginning to initiate. I brought the nose around in the opposite direction initiating a left turn, away from where I wanted to go, but the safest thing I could do with the situation at hand. I glided for a 100 yards and turned back to race over to Tom and Russ.
I caught a climb before getting to them and started turning tight. Russ came over above me and I lost sight of him. I was hoping he wasn't in the way as I was cranking it up and trying to climb fast. Quickly I ascended above the radio towers and up over the back of Mt. Ascutney. As I stayed in the climb behind the mountain, it was fizzling out a bit so I decided to find something else. Tom and I found a nice climb with a strong core and took a few turns in it. We had a bit of trouble syncing up our turns, both a little hesitant and wondering what the other was going to do.
After climbing a few hundred feet, Tom left and decided to get something better. I stayed and centered into the part I wanted - the core. This thing was small but strong, and I quickly climbed up a couple thousand feet. Kip in the meantime, was already off the mountain to the south and circling in another thermal under the same cloud. He was climbing, but not too fast. My climb started to bleed off so I started searching after doing some circles trying to relocate it.
I glided toward Kip figuring something was between he and I that was stronger, and if not, I would take what he had and make the best of it. Sure enough, half way to him there was a nice thermal cooking up. I banked up and took it to cloudbase at 8200'. Tom meanwhile was back at the mountain, low, circling with other gliders trying to stay alive. I was concerned he was going to land, but figure if anyone would make it back out of there, it was him.
Once I hit base, I was ready to RACE! After a week at the ECC learning what my Combat could really do, I was ready to let lose on what looked to be the perfect day for it in New England (we don't get very many 'racing' days). I pulled the VG and CG as I took my last circles before I'd was going to visit the White Room. As I came out of the last turn, I was getting cloud suck. I stuffed the bar and raced toward Claremont at 50+ miles/hour.
I came under the next cloud and found a strong climb and went back to base. As I was circling, I watched Kip try to fly to me as fast as his Sport 2 would go. He experienced the same thing I was going through last year, instead of flying fast, you end up diving at the ground. I lost sight of him as I hit base and tore off toward the next cloud between Claremont and Newport. I thought he was done for but he ended up making it to Epsom, NH later in the day!
Under the next cloud things started to change. I had raced over, but now it was taking me a while to climb back up. I watched as Tom came in over my head, and Jeff Curtis was slowly making his way toward us in his Sport 2, still a few miles away. Tom went to base and started to head toward Sunapee/Kearsarge. I decided to follow figuring I would make up the altitude later.
I found a nice strong climb around Newport and spun it up to base while Tom continued on. Jake came racing over from Claremont and got in the good stuff as I was leaving on my trek toward Kearsarge. Tom had tanked up and left earlier, but I still had an eye on him. Over Lake Sunapee, I decided to stop for another climb over the lake, this one turned out to be much weaker. I lost sight of Tom once he got below the horizon line, and went in under the next cloud.
It was now sinking in on how different the day was turning out to be over here compared to back to the west. Thermals were not showing up in the same places under each cloud, and although the occasional strong climb existed, there were more often weaker climbs at 200 to 400fpm instead of the 800 back toward the mountain...and even 1100fpm in one thermal.
As I wallowed in light lift trying to get back above 6500', I watched Jake take a different line over Sunapee and ride cloudbase down past Bradford. Tom was still lower than the horizon and even though it was the direction I wanted to go, the cloud line was better to the south. I started working my way over and found another light climb southeast of Lake Sunapee. As I circled in that, a sailplane came racing toward me and we exchanged waves, then commenced to do the dance.
After a few hundred feet, he decided it wasn't that great here and moved on. I was stuck, I had a long glide to the fields in Henniker, and I wanted to make sure I had the altitude in case I couldn't find the good conditions again. At around 7000' I had enough and headed to a better looking cloud to the southeast. Here I went back to cloudbase and my body started to revolt.
I had been battling off a cold all week, and Saturday morning I could tell it would be gone with one more day. I was feeling pretty good. Saturday night, I tried to go to bed early but I just wasn't tired. I laid in bed for over an hour trying to sleep. No luck. I eventually fell asleep but awoke a few times in the night and only ended up with 5 hours of broken sleep. Combine this with spending an hour up in the clouds and cold temperatures, and my cold had come back in full bloom.
I spent the remainder of the flight with the chills, sniffles, and my lungs filling with fluid. Not exactly how I wanted to feel while going Cross Country in a hang-glider. As I approached Concord jumping from cloud to cloud, I was working my way to the North to go around the city. I saw the fields in Henniker that I landed at weeks before, drifting well behind me. I knew I had now busted my 50 mile mark which I have been trying to get past this season in New England.
I contemplated landing every time I got back above 6200' all the way to cloudbase at 8000'+. I kept telling myself, one more and that's it, I'm going to land and warm up, take a nap, and wait for a ride. Honestly, I don't know what kept me going this day. Getting as close to the beach as I could? Thinking everyone else got there? Just because? I really didn't feel well, and after my stomach bothered me, I got dizzy a few times, and at one point even thought I was seeing things, I really felt like I should get on the ground. But then it would all go away, and I would think about what I had to do next to get to the next landable section of the journey.
This continued on all the way to Nottingham. That was the last spot I got to cloudbase. I spent the rest of the flight picking fields I would land in but gliding closer and closer to the coast. Occasionally I would find a small thermal to turn in and gain a few hundred or a thousand feet before it would peter out. I kept hearing Tom call out his position from time to time. He was north of me for most of the flight after Concord but I could never see him. Nor could I could talk back due to equipment malfunctions with my PTT.
My flight path began to change as I neared the coast 25 to 30 miles out. I spent the entire day heading downwind toward Hampton Beach, but now I was drifting in thermals directly toward Portsmouth, NH with controlled airspace. I kept trying to edge toward Hampton but there was a blue hole with no clouds and it was crossing upwind to get there. I knew the winds had shifted Westerly, so I changed course and started to fly toward Dover, NH enroute to Kittery, ME, or York, ME.
I last heard Tom saying he was on glide to Rochester Airport. I considered trying to get there, now behind and north of me, so we could be in the same place for a chase car. That was a brief thought that kept being overruled by the desire to make it as close as I possibly could to the beach, but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make the coast.
As I passed over Dover looking for a climb, I snagged one on the other side gliding toward a golf course I thought for sure was my LZ. This golf course is where Tom ended up landing in South Berwick, ME. (Glad I didn't go backwards to Rochester). I climbed up from 3200ft. to 3900ft. before the thermal bled out. I saw a cummie popping near Mt. Agamenticus, 5 miles in the middle of this huge forest between me and the beach.
The winds were now more SW and I could smell the ocean. Going for the cloud was a big risk, there were no LZ's out there, and it put me 2 miles downwind of the crummy bailouts I would need. I decided to try for it and possibly head right to Ogunquit, 11 miles on the other side of this forest, or cut back upwind to the bailouts I saw.
My glide was steady for some time out here and I had run into no major sink. As a matter of fact, I hadn't really hit anything more than 200fpm down. I went for it. halfway there the cummie disappeared. I shook my head, grinned, and called it a tease. I still glided to the area hoping to find scraps of a climb, but when I arrived, I didn't find it and could not waste any altitude searching. I was now left with 2400', 2 miles downwind of my bailouts, and 6.7 miles from York Beach (the closest beach landing I could get).
I eyed the coastline at York Beach, I knew I could get there if my glide stayed the same as it had. I also had Ogunquit but I couldn't remember a beach there, only rocky shoreline. I decided to go for York Beach (Long Sands). I could see Short Sands and plenty of beach showing so I knew in my subconscious the beach was safe to land on - Low Tide.
Halfway there I hit sink. UGGH!!! I started looking around assessing bailouts in my vicinity. I eyed someone's yard that bordered a private pond, a field that was now full of 5 or 10 ft. trees, the fields I had as bailouts but were now behind and upwind, and not exactly within my glide. I thought about Tom spending the night digging me out of a forest in the middle of nowhere. About that time the sink alarm shut off, I was done flying through whatever air that existed there, and I was back on my glide toward Long Sands, crossing upwind. All was well again.
I passed over I-95 at 1500' and 2 miles out. I saw Short Sands Beach in York Harbor and knew I could switch to a downwind leg, turn, and land into the wind on the 'crowded' beach if anything else happened. But even flying upwind cross, I was doing good on my glide. I had this, I knew I had it. But I still kept telling myself - "I can do this!" and watching my instruments to make sure I wasn't flying faster than Best Glide in my impatience.
I drew nearer, and I now saw all the power lines sticking up between the houses and the beach. I had to clear those. Again, if all stays as it is, I will make this. As I write this, I hear my friend Ollie Gregory at the Team Challenge saying - "There's no squeaking in TEAM CHALLENGE!" :-D I was definitely squeaking. Like a thousand church mice.
I passed over the wires arriving at the beach between 200' and 300'. PHEW!!! I did it! Now to focus. I looked for an empty spot on the beach, which was fairly empty but people were scattered all over making it difficult to find a patch big enough for my final. I found one, flew downwind toward the rocks on Cape Neddick, heading out to Nubble Lighthouse. I turned onto base toward the ocean and knew I could soar these rocks.
I really considered doing that for a while but I overruled the thought with the practical need for an LZ. If I soar the rocky shoreline, people will start walking toward me watching and taking pictures, putting a mass of spectators between me and any empty spots of beach, no good. After a long day, and everything my body was going through, I decided to take the empty spot while I had it.
I flew out over the water to bleed off altitude, turned back inland for a base, then turned onto final. As I was coming in, this man and his wife were between me and the sand I wanted to be on. I yelled - LOOK OUT!!! He just stood there staring at me as I strafed him with my Combat. I flew over their heads and came down into ground effect. The winds were blowing 13 to 15 mph right down the beach providing a nice headwind to flare into. I eased the nose up testing the flare timing, waited, then eased it out for a nice 1/2 step landing.
I was quickly approached by curious bystanders with tons of questions. They were shocked I had launched in Vermont and landed in York Beach, ME. Some didn't believe me and were looking for my engine. I answered questions, took some pictures, lectured myself for squeaking, grinned ear to ear, and then found a place to set my wings down.
I climbed out of my glider and a couple directed me to all the amenities - bathrooms, ice cream stand (did you say ice cream?!?!), general store, and a restaurant 2 miles down the beach. I broke down and wrestled with the extremely poor cell reception on the beach (thanks Verizon - can you hear me now!?), trying to get word out to Tom and see if I had a ride, or needed to find one back to my car; which we left in Concord, NH that morning in case something like this happened.
Finally I heard back that Tom was nearby (10.6 miles away) and that a ride was enroute. He told me to get ready to buy everyone Lobster Dinners (a tradition for pilots that make the beach) for the drivers and passengers in the car.
I finished securing all my stuff and walked across the street for a nice Hot Fudge Sundae. MMMMM. Afterwards, I returned to the ocean, rolled my pants up, and waded in the water for 30 minutes making phone calls and getting text messages out. Seemingly, standing in the ocean was the only place I could get service...
I got off the phone and did some Tai Chi in the water, then decided to haul my harness 2 miles up the beach to the restaurant to see what time they closed. I arrived to find them closed up for the night and then hiked back to my glider enjoying the fresh night air, the moon, the sea breeze, and the waves crashing.
By the time Jeff showed up with Tom in the car, it was after 10pm and most places were closed. A local police officer told us of some places near Short Sands that stay open late, so we headed over there to try and get lobsters. My friend and fellow pilot Allen had followed Jeff over in his own vehicle to join in the celebration.
Sadly, we found no one that would cook lobsters that late, but we did find an open restaurant (The Bluff Hotel) where we sat and shared stories of the day, laughed, and had dinner. A great day.
John Z contacted me later to offer his congratulations and called me 'Sand Man'. Hence the title of the article. It was only the next day that I learned what an honor it was to land at the beach. Under 20 pilots have made the coast in 25 years of Cross Country Hang-Gliding in New England. ((CORRECTION: I am only the 15th person to land on the beach)) Truly and honor. See the list below of the Vermont Hang Gliding Association Sand Men.
Air Time: 4hrs and 18min
Distance: 95 miles (straight line distance), 100 miles total.
Max Altitude: 8200' MSL
Thanks go out to Peter Judge for driving us up. Jeff Curtis for the retrieve. Ryan and bystander for the wire crew. Mt. Ascutney State Park for the great flying site. Thank you to the entire flying community up here (and friends from across the country) for your support and encouragement.
Tom's Blog Post for the Day - http://skyout.blogspot.com/2012/06/maine-line.html
Thanks Dennis Cavagnaro for the historical list -
VHGA Sand Men
 |
| Peter Judge |
 |
| Tom Lanning |
I caught a climb before getting to them and started turning tight. Russ came over above me and I lost sight of him. I was hoping he wasn't in the way as I was cranking it up and trying to climb fast. Quickly I ascended above the radio towers and up over the back of Mt. Ascutney. As I stayed in the climb behind the mountain, it was fizzling out a bit so I decided to find something else. Tom and I found a nice climb with a strong core and took a few turns in it. We had a bit of trouble syncing up our turns, both a little hesitant and wondering what the other was going to do.
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| Cummies popping early and filling the sky. |
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| Portsmouth |
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| Dover, NH. Maine in background. |
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| Pease Airbase. Hampton Beach. Rye, NH |
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| Long Sands York Beach, ME |
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| Cape Neddick w/ Nubble Lighthouse under the wingtip. |
I spent the remainder of the flight with the chills, sniffles, and my lungs filling with fluid. Not exactly how I wanted to feel while going Cross Country in a hang-glider. As I approached Concord jumping from cloud to cloud, I was working my way to the North to go around the city. I saw the fields in Henniker that I landed at weeks before, drifting well behind me. I knew I had now busted my 50 mile mark which I have been trying to get past this season in New England.
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| Cape Neddick |
I last heard Tom saying he was on glide to Rochester Airport. I considered trying to get there, now behind and north of me, so we could be in the same place for a chase car. That was a brief thought that kept being overruled by the desire to make it as close as I possibly could to the beach, but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make the coast.
Halfway there I hit sink. UGGH!!! I started looking around assessing bailouts in my vicinity. I eyed someone's yard that bordered a private pond, a field that was now full of 5 or 10 ft. trees, the fields I had as bailouts but were now behind and upwind, and not exactly within my glide. I thought about Tom spending the night digging me out of a forest in the middle of nowhere. About that time the sink alarm shut off, I was done flying through whatever air that existed there, and I was back on my glide toward Long Sands, crossing upwind. All was well again.
I drew nearer, and I now saw all the power lines sticking up between the houses and the beach. I had to clear those. Again, if all stays as it is, I will make this. As I write this, I hear my friend Ollie Gregory at the Team Challenge saying - "There's no squeaking in TEAM CHALLENGE!" :-D I was definitely squeaking. Like a thousand church mice.
I really considered doing that for a while but I overruled the thought with the practical need for an LZ. If I soar the rocky shoreline, people will start walking toward me watching and taking pictures, putting a mass of spectators between me and any empty spots of beach, no good. After a long day, and everything my body was going through, I decided to take the empty spot while I had it.
I was quickly approached by curious bystanders with tons of questions. They were shocked I had launched in Vermont and landed in York Beach, ME. Some didn't believe me and were looking for my engine. I answered questions, took some pictures, lectured myself for squeaking, grinned ear to ear, and then found a place to set my wings down.
Finally I heard back that Tom was nearby (10.6 miles away) and that a ride was enroute. He told me to get ready to buy everyone Lobster Dinners (a tradition for pilots that make the beach) for the drivers and passengers in the car.
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| Prize for the day. |
I got off the phone and did some Tai Chi in the water, then decided to haul my harness 2 miles up the beach to the restaurant to see what time they closed. I arrived to find them closed up for the night and then hiked back to my glider enjoying the fresh night air, the moon, the sea breeze, and the waves crashing.
By the time Jeff showed up with Tom in the car, it was after 10pm and most places were closed. A local police officer told us of some places near Short Sands that stay open late, so we headed over there to try and get lobsters. My friend and fellow pilot Allen had followed Jeff over in his own vehicle to join in the celebration.
Sadly, we found no one that would cook lobsters that late, but we did find an open restaurant (The Bluff Hotel) where we sat and shared stories of the day, laughed, and had dinner. A great day.
John Z contacted me later to offer his congratulations and called me 'Sand Man'. Hence the title of the article. It was only the next day that I learned what an honor it was to land at the beach. Under 20 pilots have made the coast in 25 years of Cross Country Hang-Gliding in New England. ((CORRECTION: I am only the 15th person to land on the beach)) Truly and honor. See the list below of the Vermont Hang Gliding Association Sand Men.
Air Time: 4hrs and 18min
Distance: 95 miles (straight line distance), 100 miles total.
Max Altitude: 8200' MSL
Thanks go out to Peter Judge for driving us up. Jeff Curtis for the retrieve. Ryan and bystander for the wire crew. Mt. Ascutney State Park for the great flying site. Thank you to the entire flying community up here (and friends from across the country) for your support and encouragement.
Tom's Blog Post for the Day - http://skyout.blogspot.com/2012/06/maine-line.html
Thanks Dennis Cavagnaro for the historical list -
VHGA Sand Men
- Nelson Howe
- Randy Adams
- Teddy Hasenfus
- Jon Szarek
- Steve Arndt
- Richie Laport
- Timmy Donovan
- Jeff Bernard
- John Arrison
- Dennis Cavagnro
- Tom Lanning
- Greg Hanlon
- Tim Hoopes
- Dan McGonagle
- Randy Brown
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Locked in Combat - Day 6 of East Coast Championships
I was orbiting at 5300' in the start circle under the big BLUE sky, floating in and out of the top of a thermal without a cloud in sight. I was closely watching all the gliders struggling below; some landing back at the airport, one in a field under me a mile or two from base, and many more scratching and clawing for any lift they could find.
It was now day 6 of the East Coast Championships at Highland Aerosports in Ridgely, MD. Blue skies were predicted for the day along significant wind speeds. I was doing better as the week progressed, but I had still only made goal 1 time. In the grand scheme of things I was doing well for my first Open Class comp, but I wanted to do better.
Twenty-Five minutes prior, I was in the line-up waiting for my turn to launch. Bruce and Steve pushed me out onto the runway after going through the safety checks, I thanked them for their help and Bruce hooked me up to the tow plane being piloted by Zach. I gave the go sign and the tug roared to life. As I sped down the runway my glider became airborne and I eased the base bar out of the cart and rose into the air.
The tow was smooth and a good speed, some minor turbulence but relaxing compared to some of the other days that week. We turned 90' to the runway and hit some turbulence coming out. Still, nothing substantial. I already had grim hopes for the day after seeing the forecast, a smooth tow was not a good sign.
We continued on and soon hit some bumps in the air. I was looking around the sky as we were towing, noticing all the pilots that were airborne, stuck in the same place at the same relatively low altitude, and not climbing fast (if at all). Another bad sign.
As we were heading downwind of the runway Zach flew through something that I knew was good. NOTE: I can't see my instruments when I'm towing, so all I have is the audio to go by which is tough because the plane is towing you up, and the audio on the variometer is saying you are climbing all the time anyway. Zach and I don't recall what altitude we were at when he waved me off, but we certainly weren't close to the 2500' that the tug pilots normally release us at.
He gave the signal and I pulled my release. I turned into the lift and began sniffing for a climb. I was getting 20fpm to 50 fpm up, but nothing substantial. Then, I felt the surge that is usually followed by the nice core of a thermal waiting on the other side. Sure enough, I hit the wall of ascending air and cranked the glider up on the tip, not daring to turn too flat - a mistake I made the first day this week in similar conditions. I was climbing over 800fpm and rocketing away from the earth.
Within seconds I was at the same altitude as the hovering pilots I had seen moments before. I passed them with the blink of an eye as I raced skyward three more turns. Then I saw them darting toward me in hopes to join in the fun. It would not be. They came in under me searching, scouring, all in vain, but could not link up with it. Paris later told me he had found that "small ratty thing" below, but couldn't bank up inside with all the other gliders around. I had hoped everyone would connect with it, but part of me was grinning in satisfaction to be at the top of the stack.
I climbed out to 4500' and then the climbs slowed to 50fpm. I kept drifting with it and worked it up to 5300' where it topped out. I then sat in orbit watching the start circle show. Some clouds began to appear and then disappear, but this was a good sign since even short lived clouds would help mark the thermals on course. I saw a cloud 4 miles out but kept my position to be safe while I edged closer to the start circle border.
Roughly 10 minutes had gone by and I noticed a gaggle eastward, at my altitude, nearing the border of the start circle! A group to fly with! This was a good thing. Unfortunately they were 4 miles away approaching that cloud I had seen earlier. I cranked the VG and the CG and went gliding off to join them. I came in under them by 500 feet and started searching for the thermal core so I could climb quickly to meet them.
As I approached the gaggle (Paris Williams, Mitch Shipley, Greg Dinauer, John Simon, and Rich Cizauskus), they all left and headed back toward the runway. What!?!? Where was everyone going? I looked at my instruments and saw that I was now 'outside' the start circle, and the next clock was about to go off. I could go back with everyone else and tag the next start clock, or I could get to cloudbase and just go. I made the decision to ignore the clocks (as I had been all week) and to keep my position and use it to get a good jump. My goal was to stay with the lead pack again today.
Earlier in the week, I had become separated from the pack, and spent the rest of the flight on my own trying to complete a 50 mile triangle. I made goal, but it took me almost 5 hours to do it. Everyone else was there in 2 to 3 hours. I knew if I went back to get the clock, I'd be behind everyone trying to catch up. I came here to fly with the big boys so I could learn and that was what I was going to do, clock or no clock.
I stayed where I was and finished my ascent. I pulled on the cords and went on glide to a nice cloud to the east leading out. Three quarters of the way there I looked over my shoulder and saw Paris in pursuit. I sped up and as I neared the cloud, I noticed a large Osprey circling in a thermal. I quickly joined him and used him to center on the most excellent core that awaited us. As I took a full turn, I noticed another Osprey, the two of them started screaming at me...stingy birds.
Paris came in under me and the two of us cranked up our Combats and screamed upward at 800fpm +. I watched Paris as he was 25 feet below me, locked in tight, as we whirred and spun round one another in an amazing sight. We got to base...errrr....I should say, I got to base (6200ft.), and Paris had already left. I quickly chased after him and started what was to be an exciting journey down the first leg of our course. I had NEVER flown as fast as we were flying. I was amazed at how far I was pulled in, and how tired my arms were getting after a few long glides like this. We were flying speeds up to 57mph at times, never getting below 4000'.
As we approached the first turnpoint jumping from cloud to cloud, Paris skipped a climb and shot for the turnpoint. Mitch shot past me chasing after Paris. I stopped for the climb and to tank up, unsure of what lied ahead. As I took a few turns, Rich, Greg, and John all passed over my head, I continued to work on my own.
Mitch got low at the turnpoint and I ended up racing with he and Greg for the first 1/3 of the 2nd leg. The same thing ended up happening again, I stopped for a climb that no one else wanted, and was again on my own. I remained as such for the rest of the flight.
I carried on working toward the second turnpoint, and ended up getting low (for the day). There were no clouds here and I was out in the blue and on my own. I scraped around looking for climbs down around 2000' and under where things were a lot tougher. I worked and worked and finally found a decent enough climb 2 miles from the turnpoint. I was drifting away from it (still with no idea where it was since it was only a GPS point in the middle of a road somewhere) but scraped together enough altitude to get there.
I arrived at the turnpoint and found a thermal waiting for me there. Nothing special but a climb was a climb in my situation. I gained enough altitude to see that I had goal by 300ft. I wasn't comfortable with 'going for it' on those tight margins, and really wanted one more climb to get me an 1100ft. window. I flew toward a cloud line that was setup all the way to the southeast coast, but I found my climb in the blue before getting there. I turned and turned and quickly gained enough altitude to have goal by 1600ft.
I cranked on the cords and went on glide toward goal...which was somewhere out there, but I had no idea where or what I was looking for. Normally I look up these things on google earth before the flight, but with the Landing Clinics in the mornings, making breakfast/lunch, setup, pilots meeting, etc., I had little time for that. No matter, I'd find it. I didn't fly fast, only 33mph (best glide) in case I needed altitude to find goal once I got closer.
As I flew the courseline, I hit climb, after climb, after climb...I started speeding up. I pulled in, and started flying 43mph and was still climbing at 400fpm. I was unknowingly in another convergence. I was within 2 miles of goal and still couldn't see it, it was supposed to be a small airfield. Where was it?!?! I was now within 1 mile, still no luck. I swore the other pilots would have made goal. Did I pass over their heads on the ground? Did they hit goal and fly to the beach in Ocean City? BEEEEEEP!!!! My vario made that beautiful sound it makes when you arrive at goal.
I smiled, still a bit confused. I looked everywhere for gliders on the ground and found nothing. I then looked straight down and what did I see? 4 gliders parked next to one another next to a grass strip. HA! I looked at my altimeter - 3300'. OOPS!! Damn, I did it again - arrived a goal with way too much altitude. Better than the opposite I suppose.
I burned off my altitude and landed with a perfect no stepper on the runway. Rich, who had been helping me in the landing clinics, was full of cheer. Everyone was happy to see me and quite welcoming, offering up much congratulations. I was the 5th pilot in goal. Mitch got held up down low near the second turn point and landed a short while later. I was feeling pretty special until a total of 9 gliders ended up in goal for the day. Ah well, I made it, and I got to race with the big boys. FUN STUFF!!!
I set a new personal distance record, and my driver was waiting for me when I landed. Thanks Cindy!!! Oh, and that start clock business...that cost me 4th place for the day and put me in 6th instead.
Highlights of the day: Orbiting alone at the top of the stack in the start circle. Racing on the first leg under amazing clouds with strong lift. FAST!!! Thermaling with 2 Ospreys and Paris Williams (National Champion). Racing with Paris, Greg, and Mitch. Making Goal!
Course: Ridgely to Georgetown to RD 49 to BUNTI. Double Dog Leg.
Flight Time: 3hrs 3min
Distance: 64 miles
Max Alt. - 7300'
NOTE: I was very busy on this flight and did not have time to take pictures. I should have taken some while burning off altitude at goal but I completely spaced it in my excitement.
It was now day 6 of the East Coast Championships at Highland Aerosports in Ridgely, MD. Blue skies were predicted for the day along significant wind speeds. I was doing better as the week progressed, but I had still only made goal 1 time. In the grand scheme of things I was doing well for my first Open Class comp, but I wanted to do better.
Twenty-Five minutes prior, I was in the line-up waiting for my turn to launch. Bruce and Steve pushed me out onto the runway after going through the safety checks, I thanked them for their help and Bruce hooked me up to the tow plane being piloted by Zach. I gave the go sign and the tug roared to life. As I sped down the runway my glider became airborne and I eased the base bar out of the cart and rose into the air.
The tow was smooth and a good speed, some minor turbulence but relaxing compared to some of the other days that week. We turned 90' to the runway and hit some turbulence coming out. Still, nothing substantial. I already had grim hopes for the day after seeing the forecast, a smooth tow was not a good sign.
We continued on and soon hit some bumps in the air. I was looking around the sky as we were towing, noticing all the pilots that were airborne, stuck in the same place at the same relatively low altitude, and not climbing fast (if at all). Another bad sign.
As we were heading downwind of the runway Zach flew through something that I knew was good. NOTE: I can't see my instruments when I'm towing, so all I have is the audio to go by which is tough because the plane is towing you up, and the audio on the variometer is saying you are climbing all the time anyway. Zach and I don't recall what altitude we were at when he waved me off, but we certainly weren't close to the 2500' that the tug pilots normally release us at.
He gave the signal and I pulled my release. I turned into the lift and began sniffing for a climb. I was getting 20fpm to 50 fpm up, but nothing substantial. Then, I felt the surge that is usually followed by the nice core of a thermal waiting on the other side. Sure enough, I hit the wall of ascending air and cranked the glider up on the tip, not daring to turn too flat - a mistake I made the first day this week in similar conditions. I was climbing over 800fpm and rocketing away from the earth.
Within seconds I was at the same altitude as the hovering pilots I had seen moments before. I passed them with the blink of an eye as I raced skyward three more turns. Then I saw them darting toward me in hopes to join in the fun. It would not be. They came in under me searching, scouring, all in vain, but could not link up with it. Paris later told me he had found that "small ratty thing" below, but couldn't bank up inside with all the other gliders around. I had hoped everyone would connect with it, but part of me was grinning in satisfaction to be at the top of the stack.
I climbed out to 4500' and then the climbs slowed to 50fpm. I kept drifting with it and worked it up to 5300' where it topped out. I then sat in orbit watching the start circle show. Some clouds began to appear and then disappear, but this was a good sign since even short lived clouds would help mark the thermals on course. I saw a cloud 4 miles out but kept my position to be safe while I edged closer to the start circle border.
Roughly 10 minutes had gone by and I noticed a gaggle eastward, at my altitude, nearing the border of the start circle! A group to fly with! This was a good thing. Unfortunately they were 4 miles away approaching that cloud I had seen earlier. I cranked the VG and the CG and went gliding off to join them. I came in under them by 500 feet and started searching for the thermal core so I could climb quickly to meet them.
As I approached the gaggle (Paris Williams, Mitch Shipley, Greg Dinauer, John Simon, and Rich Cizauskus), they all left and headed back toward the runway. What!?!? Where was everyone going? I looked at my instruments and saw that I was now 'outside' the start circle, and the next clock was about to go off. I could go back with everyone else and tag the next start clock, or I could get to cloudbase and just go. I made the decision to ignore the clocks (as I had been all week) and to keep my position and use it to get a good jump. My goal was to stay with the lead pack again today.
Earlier in the week, I had become separated from the pack, and spent the rest of the flight on my own trying to complete a 50 mile triangle. I made goal, but it took me almost 5 hours to do it. Everyone else was there in 2 to 3 hours. I knew if I went back to get the clock, I'd be behind everyone trying to catch up. I came here to fly with the big boys so I could learn and that was what I was going to do, clock or no clock.
I stayed where I was and finished my ascent. I pulled on the cords and went on glide to a nice cloud to the east leading out. Three quarters of the way there I looked over my shoulder and saw Paris in pursuit. I sped up and as I neared the cloud, I noticed a large Osprey circling in a thermal. I quickly joined him and used him to center on the most excellent core that awaited us. As I took a full turn, I noticed another Osprey, the two of them started screaming at me...stingy birds.
Paris came in under me and the two of us cranked up our Combats and screamed upward at 800fpm +. I watched Paris as he was 25 feet below me, locked in tight, as we whirred and spun round one another in an amazing sight. We got to base...errrr....I should say, I got to base (6200ft.), and Paris had already left. I quickly chased after him and started what was to be an exciting journey down the first leg of our course. I had NEVER flown as fast as we were flying. I was amazed at how far I was pulled in, and how tired my arms were getting after a few long glides like this. We were flying speeds up to 57mph at times, never getting below 4000'.
As we approached the first turnpoint jumping from cloud to cloud, Paris skipped a climb and shot for the turnpoint. Mitch shot past me chasing after Paris. I stopped for the climb and to tank up, unsure of what lied ahead. As I took a few turns, Rich, Greg, and John all passed over my head, I continued to work on my own.
Mitch got low at the turnpoint and I ended up racing with he and Greg for the first 1/3 of the 2nd leg. The same thing ended up happening again, I stopped for a climb that no one else wanted, and was again on my own. I remained as such for the rest of the flight.
I arrived at the turnpoint and found a thermal waiting for me there. Nothing special but a climb was a climb in my situation. I gained enough altitude to see that I had goal by 300ft. I wasn't comfortable with 'going for it' on those tight margins, and really wanted one more climb to get me an 1100ft. window. I flew toward a cloud line that was setup all the way to the southeast coast, but I found my climb in the blue before getting there. I turned and turned and quickly gained enough altitude to have goal by 1600ft.
I cranked on the cords and went on glide toward goal...which was somewhere out there, but I had no idea where or what I was looking for. Normally I look up these things on google earth before the flight, but with the Landing Clinics in the mornings, making breakfast/lunch, setup, pilots meeting, etc., I had little time for that. No matter, I'd find it. I didn't fly fast, only 33mph (best glide) in case I needed altitude to find goal once I got closer.
As I flew the courseline, I hit climb, after climb, after climb...I started speeding up. I pulled in, and started flying 43mph and was still climbing at 400fpm. I was unknowingly in another convergence. I was within 2 miles of goal and still couldn't see it, it was supposed to be a small airfield. Where was it?!?! I was now within 1 mile, still no luck. I swore the other pilots would have made goal. Did I pass over their heads on the ground? Did they hit goal and fly to the beach in Ocean City? BEEEEEEP!!!! My vario made that beautiful sound it makes when you arrive at goal.
I smiled, still a bit confused. I looked everywhere for gliders on the ground and found nothing. I then looked straight down and what did I see? 4 gliders parked next to one another next to a grass strip. HA! I looked at my altimeter - 3300'. OOPS!! Damn, I did it again - arrived a goal with way too much altitude. Better than the opposite I suppose.
I set a new personal distance record, and my driver was waiting for me when I landed. Thanks Cindy!!! Oh, and that start clock business...that cost me 4th place for the day and put me in 6th instead.
Highlights of the day: Orbiting alone at the top of the stack in the start circle. Racing on the first leg under amazing clouds with strong lift. FAST!!! Thermaling with 2 Ospreys and Paris Williams (National Champion). Racing with Paris, Greg, and Mitch. Making Goal!
Course: Ridgely to Georgetown to RD 49 to BUNTI. Double Dog Leg.
Flight Time: 3hrs 3min
Distance: 64 miles
Max Alt. - 7300'
NOTE: I was very busy on this flight and did not have time to take pictures. I should have taken some while burning off altitude at goal but I completely spaced it in my excitement.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Grinding the Triangle - Day 4 of the East Coast Championships
Day 4 of the East Coast Championships and I was on tow behind the Dragon Fly Tug climbing up under the cloud filled sky. Gliders were climbing in the start circle, and some were orbiting at cloudbase. At 1600 feet, I pinned off early thinking I was in a good climb, wrong. I was kicking myself for getting off and sinking out instead of staying on tow to 2500' and getting in under the other gliders that were in a much better position than I.
The day's task was a 50 mile Triangle task, I had never done a triangle, and my longest flight to date was 55 miles. This was going to be a challenge.
I scanned around looking for the lift, only finding scraps here and there. As I searched in vain, I thought to myself - 'this is one way to kill time till the start clock goes off and the race starts'. Around 700' I connected with a weak climb over the farm fields across the street from the runway. I stuck with it, not wanting to land and relight. As I circled and circled, hanging and waiting, the thermal started to slowly grow.
It took forever to get back to where I pinned off tow, but when I did, things turned on. I snagged the strong core and hooked in. I spun up on the wingtip and climbed fast. As I peered out from beneath my wing, I saw a bunch of gliders rushing over to come in on top of me and share in the prize. We climbed out and hit cloudbase, racing to the next cloud to join the lead gaggle. Phew!
As I came in under the leaders of the pack, they left and headed to the next cloud. The race was on. I joined in the pursuit. I was flying Best Glide speed (33mph) trying to keep up but everyone was leaving me in the dust. I came into the climb behind and below everyone as they were circling up and getting ready to leave again. I took a few turns in very good lift and then chased off after them again.
This went on for the next 3 clouds and I got further behind. On the next glide, I decided to change course and go for a closer cloud than the lead gaggle. Arriving under the cloud I found nothing and had to change 90 degrees from course-line to get to the cloud the gaggle was under. They topped out and left before I was half way there. Finding only weak climbs, it was taking me forever to get to base. I watched as pilots were passing me by on course, and the lead gaggle was long gone toward the first turn point. Currently only half way to the first TP, and in a head wind, I was on my own.
As I reached an altitude high enough to make another jump, I looked downwind toward the TP, a long glide in the blue to get to the next cloud was what awaited me; I didn't want to get low again. It was there that I made a decision that may have saved the flight, but took me in the opposite direction from where I needed to go.
Back toward Ridgely I flew, for two miles to get under a big cloud line that was setting up on a course line toward the turn point. The clouds were getting big here, shadowing out the ground underneath, but they were the best option I had. I glided in under the clouds and hit some weak climbs taking me backwards from where I had to go, no strong climbs like I had been getting earlier in the flight.
The lift was scattered, and I had trouble connecting with the climbs, in retrospect it was likely due to not being aware that the thermals were drifting the opposite direction than I thought. After all, the first leg was supposed to be downwind today. Once I reached base, I began running the clouds toward Massey, my first turn point. Long glides and light climbs, but I was keeping decent altitude on the way there. Four miles out from Massey, I found a good climb under the clouds that were now filling in, and rising up.
Drifting away from the turn point again, I climbed while watching a news chopper sit on the runway at the turn point, (Massey is an airstrip) at idle. I was about to make a glide for the turn point, out into the blue, but I didn't know if I would get back up. Having reached cloud base, but drifting a half mile or so further away, I left on glide.
As I approached Massey, I flew two and a half miles with no climb, or any indication of lift. Landing at Massey was no longer an option because of that helicopter, so I surveyed the surrounding fields just in case I had to land. Little did I know at the time, but the news helicopter was there asking about hang-gliders; another pilot had tried to land in a field of tall wheat, and his glider was sucked in and he crashed needing emergency services to the hospital.
I had now been in the air for what seemed like forever. I was tired, hungry, thirsty, and had to pee, BAD! 3/4 of a mile from the airfield my vario started chirping - LIFT! I banked up the glider and hooked into a nice thermal. Taking two full turns I marked the thermal and took off to tag the turn point. The GPS squawked as I came in over the field, made it!
Turning back toward the last climb I found, I was staring straight down at another hang-glider on the ground, and a rotor system whirring round and round. I quickly returned to the thermal I just took two turns in not moments before. No luck, it was gone.
Looking at the track log from the flight, I now see that I didn't go far enough to account for the drift of the thermal in the opposite direction. The objective now was to get as close to the second turn point as I could before decking it. This turn point was 16 miles away.
Less than two miles into the glide, I found some scattered bits of lift over some farm fields below. I scanned around searching for the core and finally snagged it. A bald eagle joined me from below, and we climbed and climbed higher and higher. I grinned from ear to ear, as I watched him, and he watched me.
We gained a thousand feet and he left, continuing on his journey wherever that may have been. I continued to climb, soaking every bit of lift I could from this thermal, and eventually reaching cloud base once more. Making the 1st turn point, and watching this majestic bird, erased the hunger and fatigue I had been feeling, but I still had to relieve myself, or else.
The harness I now use, makes it quite difficult to do this while flying. I fumbled with my pants, and position, for what seemed like an eternity. I tried staying under the cloud as I did this to keep the glider in lift, but that turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. The glider careened all over the sky as I flew with one hand, and attempted to relieve myself with the other.
Almost ending up in a roll at one point, and a spin at another, I finally gave up and left the turbulent lifty area and flew out into the sink. It was there that I gained satisfaction! Someone watching this whole thing from afar, probably thought I was drunk, or a really bad aerobatics pilot.
I returned to the cloud and took a few turns to regain my lost altitude. Now feeling quite releaved, and having substantial altitude, I headed off on glide once more.
Passing Millington and gliding toward Sudlersville, I found a few strong climbs that I could take a few turns in, and be on my way. This, in conjunction with some good glides, meant I was not losing altitude too quickly.
Ten miles into the second leg, I found a strong and well connected thermal. Between this, and one more that I found near Church Hill, I was well positioned for the second turn point and well into the third. I tagged TP 2 and began jumping from cloud to cloud on the third and final leg.
My mind lit up as I peered at my instruments and saw that I was only 12 miles from goal!!! I needed one more climb on the way and I had this. I began to get excited and nervous at the same time. I could do this!
Four and a half miles into my glide toward goal, I was passing under clouds and not finding any lift, but I wasn't sinking fast and I had a tail wind to boot. I had goal by 300 feet according to my instruments, but this was too close for my comfort.
I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it after all. I really needed to get a little higher to be comfortable just going for it. Reaching the 5 mile mark, I came in under a working cloud slightly off course to the west. LIFT! Plenty of it. Just what I needed.
I climbed up with elation, watching my altitude grow and my glide to goal get more and more secure. I didn't want to arrive at goal with too much altitude as it was a waste, so I got enough to give me a 1600' margin and went on my seven mile glide.
I ended up porpoising my way along climbing under small clouds forming all the way home. It turns out, I was now in a convergence and had no idea. I rode the line closer and closer to Ridgely Airport, watching my altitude go up the entire way.
I was ecstatic! Since I had so much altitude, I took some pictures as I made the final 3 mile stretch to home base. Soon after, I arrived at goal with 5300'. My FIRST GOAL in the Open Class, and FIRST TRIANGLE! A 50 mile Triangle to boot! My second longest flight (the longest being 53 miles).
I boated around over the airport watching the sunset and soaking in the moment. I then noticed a news chopper flying around but not getting too close. It would stop and hover a mile or two from the airport in different positions. I still had no idea what that was about, but I decided to give them a show of sorts.
I had yet to really practice wing overs in my Combat, now was a good time; especially since I wanted to get on the ground after slogging my way through the course all afternoon, why not burn off some altitude...
After playing around for 20 minutes, watching the news chopper move around, and a couple of tandems get pulled up, I was now coring sink to get down. Low enough, I took a long downwind, base. The base leg of my approach was over the tree line running parallel to the runway. I came in low along the trees, turned on final, came in hot, bled off my speed, reached for one down tube - check. Reached for the next downtube - MISS!! Oh no! I was not going to pound in, not now, not here! A bunch of pilots had come out and were cheering as they saw me glide in. I had an audience.
I wiffed a second time, gave up, with my right hand on the down tube, I started my flare, reached back with my left hand and grabbed the only thing I could find - the rear wires. So I flared with one down tube and one rear wire managing to salvage my landing. The crowd erupted.
I climbed out of my glider and looked up to see Sunny (the flight park owner) running toward me with a huge smile. He grabbed me and latched on to me giving me huge congrats and praise. I was in shock that I had made it, and full of good cheer.
We talked for a few moments, and I dispelled his misconception that I made it in just over the trees. ;-) I told him I arrived with 5300' and he told me the sea breeze was just arriving and that I was in the convergence along my last leg.
I put my glider back in line for the next days flying (a great feeling to not have to break down), and ran in to turn in my track log. I was the last pilot to finish, but met with gracious praise for making it after such a long day.
Flight Time: 4 hours and 42 minutes.
Distance: 50 mile Triangle.
Max Altitude: 5610'
The day's task was a 50 mile Triangle task, I had never done a triangle, and my longest flight to date was 55 miles. This was going to be a challenge.
It took forever to get back to where I pinned off tow, but when I did, things turned on. I snagged the strong core and hooked in. I spun up on the wingtip and climbed fast. As I peered out from beneath my wing, I saw a bunch of gliders rushing over to come in on top of me and share in the prize. We climbed out and hit cloudbase, racing to the next cloud to join the lead gaggle. Phew!
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| Allen doing some practice tows. |
This went on for the next 3 clouds and I got further behind. On the next glide, I decided to change course and go for a closer cloud than the lead gaggle. Arriving under the cloud I found nothing and had to change 90 degrees from course-line to get to the cloud the gaggle was under. They topped out and left before I was half way there. Finding only weak climbs, it was taking me forever to get to base. I watched as pilots were passing me by on course, and the lead gaggle was long gone toward the first turn point. Currently only half way to the first TP, and in a head wind, I was on my own.
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| Allen leaving the cart into the sunset. |
Back toward Ridgely I flew, for two miles to get under a big cloud line that was setting up on a course line toward the turn point. The clouds were getting big here, shadowing out the ground underneath, but they were the best option I had. I glided in under the clouds and hit some weak climbs taking me backwards from where I had to go, no strong climbs like I had been getting earlier in the flight.
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| Highland Aerosports Ridgely, MD |
Drifting away from the turn point again, I climbed while watching a news chopper sit on the runway at the turn point, (Massey is an airstrip) at idle. I was about to make a glide for the turn point, out into the blue, but I didn't know if I would get back up. Having reached cloud base, but drifting a half mile or so further away, I left on glide.
I had now been in the air for what seemed like forever. I was tired, hungry, thirsty, and had to pee, BAD! 3/4 of a mile from the airfield my vario started chirping - LIFT! I banked up the glider and hooked into a nice thermal. Taking two full turns I marked the thermal and took off to tag the turn point. The GPS squawked as I came in over the field, made it!
Looking at the track log from the flight, I now see that I didn't go far enough to account for the drift of the thermal in the opposite direction. The objective now was to get as close to the second turn point as I could before decking it. This turn point was 16 miles away.
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| The face of making goal. |
We gained a thousand feet and he left, continuing on his journey wherever that may have been. I continued to climb, soaking every bit of lift I could from this thermal, and eventually reaching cloud base once more. Making the 1st turn point, and watching this majestic bird, erased the hunger and fatigue I had been feeling, but I still had to relieve myself, or else.
The harness I now use, makes it quite difficult to do this while flying. I fumbled with my pants, and position, for what seemed like an eternity. I tried staying under the cloud as I did this to keep the glider in lift, but that turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. The glider careened all over the sky as I flew with one hand, and attempted to relieve myself with the other.
I returned to the cloud and took a few turns to regain my lost altitude. Now feeling quite releaved, and having substantial altitude, I headed off on glide once more.
Ten miles into the second leg, I found a strong and well connected thermal. Between this, and one more that I found near Church Hill, I was well positioned for the second turn point and well into the third. I tagged TP 2 and began jumping from cloud to cloud on the third and final leg.
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| Chesapeake Bay |
Four and a half miles into my glide toward goal, I was passing under clouds and not finding any lift, but I wasn't sinking fast and I had a tail wind to boot. I had goal by 300 feet according to my instruments, but this was too close for my comfort.
I climbed up with elation, watching my altitude grow and my glide to goal get more and more secure. I didn't want to arrive at goal with too much altitude as it was a waste, so I got enough to give me a 1600' margin and went on my seven mile glide.
I was ecstatic! Since I had so much altitude, I took some pictures as I made the final 3 mile stretch to home base. Soon after, I arrived at goal with 5300'. My FIRST GOAL in the Open Class, and FIRST TRIANGLE! A 50 mile Triangle to boot! My second longest flight (the longest being 53 miles).
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| My wing back at goal! |
I had yet to really practice wing overs in my Combat, now was a good time; especially since I wanted to get on the ground after slogging my way through the course all afternoon, why not burn off some altitude...
After playing around for 20 minutes, watching the news chopper move around, and a couple of tandems get pulled up, I was now coring sink to get down. Low enough, I took a long downwind, base. The base leg of my approach was over the tree line running parallel to the runway. I came in low along the trees, turned on final, came in hot, bled off my speed, reached for one down tube - check. Reached for the next downtube - MISS!! Oh no! I was not going to pound in, not now, not here! A bunch of pilots had come out and were cheering as they saw me glide in. I had an audience.
I climbed out of my glider and looked up to see Sunny (the flight park owner) running toward me with a huge smile. He grabbed me and latched on to me giving me huge congrats and praise. I was in shock that I had made it, and full of good cheer.
We talked for a few moments, and I dispelled his misconception that I made it in just over the trees. ;-) I told him I arrived with 5300' and he told me the sea breeze was just arriving and that I was in the convergence along my last leg.
I put my glider back in line for the next days flying (a great feeling to not have to break down), and ran in to turn in my track log. I was the last pilot to finish, but met with gracious praise for making it after such a long day.
Flight Time: 4 hours and 42 minutes.
Distance: 50 mile Triangle.
Max Altitude: 5610'
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Dogfighting Hawks & Spanking Vultures
Thurday night the buzz started. Weather forecasts were still changing so making a fixed decision on where we were going was not going to happen, but West Rutland, VT seemed to be the place. Many pilots were planning to be there the next day. I loaded my car and put all the equipment on chargers. Tom was interested, Kip was in a holding pattern in Peterborough (from Maine) waiting to hear where we were going in the morning, and Jeff said he was interested as well.
The issue with West Rutland is the need for a 4WD vehicle to get to the top. Since most of the people who have said vehicles, want to meet early at the base, those with long drives have to leave super early in order to get a ride up, this puts some pressure to get out the door at a reasonable hour in the morning - by 8am at the latest.
7am came quick and the cat herding began. By 7:19am, Tom said he was going but no one else had sent word. He couldn't reach Jeff and I couldn't reach Kip. By 7:37am I asked Tom if he was committed to going, or if he was still talking to everyone else about why THEY didn't want to go. He sent word back that HE should be 'committed'. To what institution I'm not sure. :-)
3 Minutes later he was trying to load his glider to meet me but everyone kept interrupting him, making the job difficult. I stuck to text messages to keep things simpler. Tom asked me to call Jeff - No answer. "We got to go" I said.
Tom responded and said Peter Judge wanted to go but he was still at home close to Boston. He didn't want to hold us up. I offered to meet them enroute in Keene but Tom opted to meet me off Route 2 and ride up together. We met at 8am and hit the road. About an hour into our trek, Jeff finally woke up and called us as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He overslept thinking he was going to be towing closer to home. Jeff said he would meet us there. Kip got in touch and said he was enroute to Rutland.
Tom and I spent the ride talking about our plans to fly XC that day, and try to get to the Canadian border. We noted the lack of clouds in the forecast and talked about flying on Blue Days. He drove and I looked at google maps to scout out the route he wanted to go. We had a lengthy discussion about Lake Dunmore and having to pass that spot which would come in handy later in the day.
We arrived at the pit to find everyone loaded up and ready to go. We threw on with Kip and headed up the mountain. After setting up the wings and cramming down lunch, things seemed pretty good. John Sillero jumped into the air along with a couple other pilots soon to follow. We watched from launch noticing how slow John was flying in order to milk the lift. Things didn't look good. John managed to squeeze out an hour or more from his flight as the other pilots ended up on the ground. I felt like waiting so I closed my eyes and rested a bit from the short night's sleep and early rise.
As the valley heated up, and 3:00pm was fast approaching, I decided to suit up and go. I climbed in my glider and went out to launch. I waited, watched, and waited, for some sign of lift. There were no birds, no trees moving in the valley, nothing. The sock was blowing in but it was light and insubstantial.
Suddenly the wind picked up and the air started to move with purpose. I picked up the wing, setting it back down a few times before finally getting the wings level. Once level, I charged forth and leapt into the air. My left wing started to drop on my run so I had to do a little zig zag on the ramp to try and keep under it. All worked out well but when I went into the air I had a heading I didn't want. I shifted around to the right correcting course, and headed toward the higher ground. I wasn't losing a ton of altitude, but I certainly was gaining.
I passed by launch about 50' below and felt my wing lift and heard my vaio chirp. I cranked it around and banked up in a nice thermal taking me up and over launch to 3000'. Tom had launched quickly after me and started to climb, and then Jeff, and Kip. I saw people struggling as I climbed but Tom made it to the bowl and seemed to be well established. My thermal topped out at an inversion layer at 3000' and I was looking for something else.
I cranked on the VG and started heading for Tom, who was doing the best of everyone else. I passed through a ton of sink and by the time I reached the bowl, I was below the ridge again. I scoured the hillside looking for lift but didn't find anything. I went back toward launch where I could see trees rustling in the hopes there was another climb there. No luck.
I turned back along the ridge and proceeded to the bowl. As I entered, I had small amounts of lift, nothing major, but certainly better than sink. I looked ahead and saw a Red Tail Hawk coming toward me, head on and at the same altitude. I expected her to veer off, but we kept drawing closer and closer. I continued forward in the lift band and she still did not waiver. She was just about to collide with the nose of my wing when she suddenly, cast open her wings, and beat the air into submission, climbing above my airship. For a brief moment, I thought she was going to land on me.
As I continued on, she rose up above me and started to dive at my glider. Now I was concerned. Normally we fly with hawks and they actually enjoy it and get close to us, but sometimes people have irritated them on purpose and I have heard stories of them diving down and shredding their sails with their talons. I wanted no part of that, and figured if she wanted the lift that bad, she could have it. I turned around further up the ridge and she was gone, the air was clear. Of course, by this time, Tom, Kip, and Jeff were all on their death glides to the LZ.
I turned again and decided to head across the first gap in the ridge. As soon as I passed over and started to turn back, I hit a climb that took me through the first inversion (3000'), then the second at 4500'. As I was climbing, PK launched and climbed out as well. I kept getting stuck at 4500' and PK caught up to me. Minutes later, we rose up through the inversion and eventually merged into the same climb to 5700'.
I thought PK wanted to go XC, as that was the plan earlier and he mentioned he had found us a driver. He headed off North along the ridge and I went after him thinking we were going. We barely left Hanley Mtn. before I passed by him and kept on going. I saw him take a turn, thinking he just wanted to top off before we went, nope, he left me by myself and watched me fly off into the blue all alone, to what he thought was my imminent doom. Bastard! ;-)
I made it to the end of the ridgeline in Pittsford and needed a climb. The terrain dropped off ahead of me and I was in a position where I was going to have to cross the valley, but didn't have the altitude to do it on one glide. I was not doing well, now back down to 3000' and losing. I looked for landing options in the valley as I scoured the hillside for lift. Suddenly I felt a bite. A lee-side thermal that was a broken and gnarly, but I was able to stay flat and milk it for a few hundred feet while slowly drifting out into the valley. This brought me close enough and high enough to get me the glide I needed.
Pulling on the VG and the CG, I left the lift I had and shot for a small ridge at the foot of the greens on the east side of the valley. My path was taking me right over the field Tom landed in on our flight from Equinox, so I had a huge bailout field if things didn't go my way.
As I reached the foothills, I found no lift where I expected it. I looked for fields to the north and went on glide to try and get further north before landing. As I passed along the ridge, I felt another burble and picked up a decent enough climb. It didn't take me very high, but it gave me enough altitude that I could work a little further north on the ridge. I stumbled into another weak thermal close by and took that for all it had as well.
Gliding crosswind, and moving north along the hillside, I tried to conserve as much altitude as I could on glide. Roughly every 1 mile, I would find a climb and take it up in it's WSW drift. After doing this 3x, I finally found a more substantial climb and took that up a little further into the greens east of Brandon. This climb brought me to 4800'! I now had Middlebury Airport on glide by 300'. I wasn't too happy about that small margin, especially given that what lied between myself and my destination, was two lakes and a HUGE amount of trees.
Again I reached for the VG and CG and took off on my glide right between Goshen and Leicester, keeping ample room to bail into fields if needed. As I approached Lake Dunmore, I recalled the conversation I had with Tom on the ride up. He had talked about passing the lake on the east side and how it was a bit of a nail biter. I still wanted one more climb to get me to the airport, my goal for the day.
I crossed the gap south of Fern Lake flying through a small burble of lift. It was barely enough to register on my instruments and I decided to pass it up. As I glided away, something in my entire body screamed at me to go back. I fought the notion, not wanting to give up my precious altitude taking a turn in crap. Intuition eventually won out and I cranked around to go back to the burble of lift, resigning myself to the fact that I wasn't going to make the airport now; since I would lose precious altitude in the maneuver.
I approached the burble I had so eagerly left behind and, BOOM!!! up I went like smoke in a chimney. I took one turn and then spied a hawk slightly below me in the climb. One turn later and it was gone. I grinned from ear to ear as I climbed back out to 4200', giving me ample altitude to make the airport (now 1300' after glide according to instruments). I cranked on the VG/CG and headed north toward my destination, my course taking me behind Lake Dunmore and directly over the cliffs above the lake.
Gliding over the cliffs, with mountains and trees, a small lake, and more mountains and trees on my right, and trees and a large lake on my left, I was very much aware of the 2.5 mile glide I had to my nearest LZ's. I cruised over the cliffs and hit some ridge lift, but nothing substantial enough to make me want to give up my glide. I took one 360 in something on the north end of the lake, but carried on after insubstantial gains.
A mile north of the lake, and 3.6 miles south of my goal, I found a nice climb that brought me back up to 4400'. Topping out the climb I passed over the gap in East Middlebury, and right south of the airport on the high ground I found another late day thermal. A group of vultures were flying in this thermal, but they are rather dumb birds. I was climbing like a rocket compared to them, while watching them struggle in meager lift. In a phrase - 'I spanked em!' :-)
This climb gave me enough lift to take some pictures and boat around, something I had little luxury for the whole flight. I snapped some shots and scouted out the airport, planning my approach.
After some consideration on heading further north to Bristol, I decided to park it at the airport where I knew they had some services if I had a lengthy wait for my ride. On my approach, I had a long final set into mid field but hit a ton of lift on the north end of the runway. I had to take a couple 360s in sink to bleed off the extra altitude. I finished out the final and landed with a nice flare at the close end of the runway.
The post flight workout began, with hauling my gear across the field to a spot I could break down. I climbed out of my harness, looked around taking in the scenery, and then retrieved my cell phone from my storage pocket.
Knowing Tom would not be too enthused to hear how great my flight was after he landed shortly after take-off, I sent a text saying - "Middlebury Airport." "I promise not to talk about my flight on the way home if you buy me an ice cream and give me a ride...not in that order." He was a good sport and congratulated me on a great flight.
He arrived 25 minutes later and we loaded up the glider and talked about what happened to everyone else on the mountain. As we passed through Brandon, we found a cool little ice cream place and I treated to a pre-meal dessert. This place is definitely worth stopping at if you are going through Brandon, VT - The Inside Scoop.
We managed to get back home at a decent hour after stopping for some dinner in Keene, NH. All told, an extremely challenging flight but rewarding and highly educational in the end.
Total Distance: 33.7 miles (26 miles straight line)
Total Airtime: 2hrs 22min
Max Altitude: 5700'
The issue with West Rutland is the need for a 4WD vehicle to get to the top. Since most of the people who have said vehicles, want to meet early at the base, those with long drives have to leave super early in order to get a ride up, this puts some pressure
7am came quick and the cat herding began. By 7:19am, Tom said he was going but no one else had sent word. He couldn't reach Jeff and I couldn't reach Kip. By 7:37am I asked Tom if he was committed to going, or if he was still talking to everyone else about why THEY didn't want to go. He sent word back that HE should be 'committed'. To what institution I'm not sure. :-)
3 Minutes later he was trying to load his glider to meet me but everyone kept interrupting him, making the job difficult. I stuck to text messages to keep things simpler. Tom asked me to call Jeff - No answer. "We got to go" I said.
 |
| John Sillero |
Tom responded and said Peter Judge wanted to go but he was still at home close to Boston. He didn't want to hold us up. I offered to meet them enroute in Keene but Tom opted to meet me off Route 2 and ride up together. We met at 8am and hit the road. About an hour into our trek, Jeff finally woke up and called us as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He overslept thinking he was going to be towing closer to home. Jeff said he would meet us there. Kip got in touch and said he was enroute to Rutland.
Tom and I spent the ride talking about our plans to fly XC that day, and try to get to the Canadian border. We noted the lack of clouds in the forecast and talked about flying on Blue Days. He drove and I looked at google maps to scout out the route he wanted to go. We had a lengthy discussion about Lake Dunmore and having to pass that spot which would come in handy later in the day.
 |
| The Sport 2 Squadron |
We arrived at the pit to find everyone loaded up and ready to go. We threw on with Kip and headed up the mountain. After setting up the wings and cramming down lunch, things seemed pretty good. John Sillero jumped into the air along with a couple other pilots soon to follow. We watched from launch noticing how slow John was flying in order to milk the lift. Things didn't look good. John managed to squeeze out an hour or more from his flight as the other pilots ended up on the ground. I felt like waiting so I closed my eyes and rested a bit from the short night's sleep and early rise.
As the valley heated up, and 3:00pm was fast approaching, I decided to suit up and go. I climbed in my glider and went out to launch. I waited, watched, and waited, for some sign of lift. There were no birds, no trees moving in the valley, nothing. The sock was blowing in but it was light and insubstantial.
Suddenly the wind picked up and the air started to move with purpose. I picked up the wing, setting it back down a few times before finally getting the wings level. Once level, I charged forth and leapt into the air. My left wing started to drop on my run so I had to do a little zig zag on the ramp to try and keep under it. All worked out well but when I went into the air I had a heading I didn't want. I shifted around to the right correcting course, and headed toward the higher ground. I wasn't losing a ton of altitude, but I certainly was gaining.
I passed by launch about 50' below and felt my wing lift and heard my vaio chirp. I cranked it around and banked up in a nice thermal taking me up and over launch to 3000'. Tom had launched quickly after me and started to climb, and then Jeff, and Kip. I saw people struggling as I climbed but Tom made it to the bowl and seemed to be well established. My thermal topped out at an inversion layer at 3000' and I was looking for something else.
I cranked on the VG and started heading for Tom, who was doing the best of everyone else. I passed through a ton of sink and by the time I reached the bowl, I was below the ridge again. I scoured the hillside looking for lift but didn't find anything. I went back toward launch where I could see trees rustling in the hopes there was another climb there. No luck.
I turned back along the ridge and proceeded to the bowl. As I entered, I had small amounts of lift, nothing major, but certainly better than sink. I looked ahead and saw a Red Tail Hawk coming toward me, head on and at the same altitude. I expected her to veer off, but we kept drawing closer and closer. I continued forward in the lift band and she still did not waiver. She was just about to collide with the nose of my wing when she suddenly, cast open her wings, and beat the air into submission, climbing above my airship. For a brief moment, I thought she was going to land on me.
As I continued on, she rose up above me and started to dive at my glider. Now I was concerned. Normally we fly with hawks and they actually enjoy it and get close to us, but sometimes people have irritated them on purpose and I have heard stories of them diving down and shredding their sails with their talons. I wanted no part of that, and figured if she wanted the lift that bad, she could have it. I turned around further up the ridge and she was gone, the air was clear. Of course, by this time, Tom, Kip, and Jeff were all on their death glides to the LZ.
I turned again and decided to head across the first gap in the ridge. As soon as I passed over and started to turn back, I hit a climb that took me through the first inversion (3000'), then the second at 4500'. As I was climbing, PK launched and climbed out as well. I kept getting stuck at 4500' and PK caught up to me. Minutes later, we rose up through the inversion and eventually merged into the same climb to 5700'.
 |
| Launch Ramp |
I thought PK wanted to go XC, as that was the plan earlier and he mentioned he had found us a driver. He headed off North along the ridge and I went after him thinking we were going. We barely left Hanley Mtn. before I passed by him and kept on going. I saw him take a turn, thinking he just wanted to top off before we went, nope, he left me by myself and watched me fly off into the blue all alone, to what he thought was my imminent doom. Bastard! ;-)
I made it to the end of the ridgeline in Pittsford and needed a climb. The terrain dropped off ahead of me and I was in a position where I was going to have to cross the valley, but didn't have the altitude to do it on one glide. I was not doing well, now back down to 3000' and losing. I looked for landing options in the valley as I scoured the hillside for lift. Suddenly I felt a bite. A lee-side thermal that was a broken and gnarly, but I was able to stay flat and milk it for a few hundred feet while slowly drifting out into the valley. This brought me close enough and high enough to get me the glide I needed.
 |
| Lake Dunmore - where I came from. |
Pulling on the VG and the CG, I left the lift I had and shot for a small ridge at the foot of the greens on the east side of the valley. My path was taking me right over the field Tom landed in on our flight from Equinox, so I had a huge bailout field if things didn't go my way.
As I reached the foothills, I found no lift where I expected it. I looked for fields to the north and went on glide to try and get further north before landing. As I passed along the ridge, I felt another burble and picked up a decent enough climb. It didn't take me very high, but it gave me enough altitude that I could work a little further north on the ridge. I stumbled into another weak thermal close by and took that for all it had as well.
 |
| The Greens |
Gliding crosswind, and moving north along the hillside, I tried to conserve as much altitude as I could on glide. Roughly every 1 mile, I would find a climb and take it up in it's WSW drift. After doing this 3x, I finally found a more substantial climb and took that up a little further into the greens east of Brandon. This climb brought me to 4800'! I now had Middlebury Airport on glide by 300'. I wasn't too happy about that small margin, especially given that what lied between myself and my destination, was two lakes and a HUGE amount of trees.
Again I reached for the VG and CG and took off on my glide right between Goshen and Leicester, keeping ample room to bail into fields if needed. As I approached Lake Dunmore, I recalled the conversation I had with Tom on the ride up. He had talked about passing the lake on the east side and how it was a bit of a nail biter. I still wanted one more climb to get me to the airport, my goal for the day.
 |
| Sugarbush to the North |
I crossed the gap south of Fern Lake flying through a small burble of lift. It was barely enough to register on my instruments and I decided to pass it up. As I glided away, something in my entire body screamed at me to go back. I fought the notion, not wanting to give up my precious altitude taking a turn in crap. Intuition eventually won out and I cranked around to go back to the burble of lift, resigning myself to the fact that I wasn't going to make the airport now; since I would lose precious altitude in the maneuver.
I approached the burble I had so eagerly left behind and, BOOM!!! up I went like smoke in a chimney. I took one turn and then spied a hawk slightly below me in the climb. One turn later and it was gone. I grinned from ear to ear as I climbed back out to 4200', giving me ample altitude to make the airport (now 1300' after glide according to instruments). I cranked on the VG/CG and headed north toward my destination, my course taking me behind Lake Dunmore and directly over the cliffs above the lake.
 |
| Bristol to the north. |
Gliding over the cliffs, with mountains and trees, a small lake, and more mountains and trees on my right, and trees and a large lake on my left, I was very much aware of the 2.5 mile glide I had to my nearest LZ's. I cruised over the cliffs and hit some ridge lift, but nothing substantial enough to make me want to give up my glide. I took one 360 in something on the north end of the lake, but carried on after insubstantial gains.
A mile north of the lake, and 3.6 miles south of my goal, I found a nice climb that brought me back up to 4400'. Topping out the climb I passed over the gap in East Middlebury, and right south of the airport on the high ground I found another late day thermal. A group of vultures were flying in this thermal, but they are rather dumb birds. I was climbing like a rocket compared to them, while watching them struggle in meager lift. In a phrase - 'I spanked em!' :-)
This climb gave me enough lift to take some pictures and boat around, something I had little luxury for the whole flight. I snapped some shots and scouted out the airport, planning my approach.
 |
| Adirondacks in the distance. Lake George, Lake Champlain. |
After some consideration on heading further north to Bristol, I decided to park it at the airport where I knew they had some services if I had a lengthy wait for my ride. On my approach, I had a long final set into mid field but hit a ton of lift on the north end of the runway. I had to take a couple 360s in sink to bleed off the extra altitude. I finished out the final and landed with a nice flare at the close end of the runway.
The post flight workout began, with hauling my gear across the field to a spot I could break down. I climbed out of my harness, looked around taking in the scenery, and then retrieved my cell phone from my storage pocket.
 |
| Goal!!! Middlebury Airport. |
Knowing Tom would not be too enthused to hear how great my flight was after he landed shortly after take-off, I sent a text saying - "Middlebury Airport." "I promise not to talk about my flight on the way home if you buy me an ice cream and give me a ride...not in that order." He was a good sport and congratulated me on a great flight.
He arrived 25 minutes later and we loaded up the glider and talked about what happened to everyone else on the mountain. As we passed through Brandon, we found a cool little ice cream place and I treated to a pre-meal dessert. This place is definitely worth stopping at if you are going through Brandon, VT - The Inside Scoop.
We managed to get back home at a decent hour after stopping for some dinner in Keene, NH. All told, an extremely challenging flight but rewarding and highly educational in the end.
Total Distance: 33.7 miles (26 miles straight line)
Total Airtime: 2hrs 22min
Max Altitude: 5700'
Thanks Tom for chasing after me!
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