3 Weeks to Americus

Americus is fast approaching. In three weeks I’ll be arriving for my first comp and I am as ready as I’ll every be.

Pre-flight rituals at Laguna launch

Pre-flight rituals at Laguna launch

Flying has been great the last few weeks. 5 hours in the air just last weekend alone. Over 30 hours so far this year. I have pushed myself to go XC more, and in doing so found new challenges and compromising predicaments. I’ve grown more confident and yet very humbled all in the same weekend.

Last Saturday I dug my way out after getting very low far from any roads, and then continued on for an incredible flight. What a great feeling that was! I’m told the area I was low is littered with cacti—certainly a lesson best learned by someone else’s mistake.

The following day after starting the flight well and in half the time getting to where I landed the day before, I ran into insurmountable sink. So much sink that I was forced to land in a small field more than a quarter mile from any road. Officially that makes me a cross-country pilot, right? The hike out would have been more enjoyable had I set a personal record or could not blame my in-flight decisions. Instead I feel deceived by the convergence line which started to zig-zag. Following the convergence and staying under the clouds, I kept up with every zig, but then ran into a zag full of sink. Some very valuable lessons learned in only two days.

I am very happy with myself for about 50 miles of XC in one weekend. Soon, very soon I feel my day will come for a (first) 50 mile flight.

So yes, I am excited about the upcoming trip to Georgia. My experience flying flat lands is limited, but as we always say, the secret is to turn in lift.

The Sport 2 Wins the Day

My ego received a healthy boost of confidence last Sunday (and maybe even my id and superego). No need to name names, but let’s just say it was me on my Sport 2 versus three guys, one a former world competitor, on their topless gliders. Now I typically am not one to brag, especially concerning myself, but this post will be an exception as I savor this rare moment.

The wind was easterly, meaning Laguna was our only option short of the longer trip to Elsinore, but conditions looked great for early season cross-country flights. I was super excited to finally get another flight in March. So far this month we’ve had a rained out weekend and a blown out weekend, and my only other flight between the rain and the wind was a short lunch break flight at Torrey Pines.

Launching first, I easily soon found myself a few hundred feet above waiting for the others to join me. Lured into the ease of altitude I dropped my guard and flew the ridge without a care, enjoying the view, giving up altitude for fun. …never take altitude for granted.

Within 20 minutes of launching, my altitude—and attitude—rapidly changed. Gazing up at launch, and my friends just launching, the day suddenly called out with a challenge. With a 4 mile glide out to the LZ I was tasked with a fight just to make it to our primary LZ. Without a few thermals, I’d be buzzard food in the land of cacti. Luckily this time of year it’s still only about 80 degrees down in the valley.

Working every little ridge and finger, I chose areas that seemed both more in the sun and facing the wind. I sought thermal trigger points, which everyone seems to have a different opinion of where they are. I tried many points on the ridge that seemed like good triggers, and usually I found light bumps and small thermals good enough for a turn or two, but no elevator to the sky.

The landing area lies at about 2,200 feet MSL, and I had sunk to close to 3,000′. With only 800′ feet remaining in my altitude account, my opportunities were diminishing. Altitude bankruptcy seemed likely. Damn you greedy gravity!!!

And then, finally, at one of the last potential trigger points before heading out for the LZ, after a few bumps and half turns in lift, a strong push from below hit me. Banking hard into a turn I determined myself not to fall out of this elevator. …and that I did.

Soon I was back to launch altitude and still climbing. After ascending more than 3,500′ in that one, beautiful thermal the prospects for a decent cross-country flight were good again. Peering down on everyone with a Cheshire grin, I was happy. The drift of the thermal carried me north toward the next large lift generator, Granite Mountain. Just minutes later I was there. Calling out to the other pilots, “I’m over Granite heading for Banner!”

Apparently though, one of my fellow fliers, knowing that the last time he saw me I was close to landing piped up, “I don’t hear any wind noise in the background,” implying that I was full of something other than air, unless it was hot.

But for once, the joke was on him. Soon, after an attempt to keep going my wing and I softly touched down about 12 miles from launch. My ride met me there before even fully breaking down…what perfect timing. As we pulled away heading to the LZ below launch to retrieve two others, the radio crackled, “What are the winds in the LZ?” My friend finally made it over Granite. 45 minutes or so after I landed, he and his higher performance topless glider appeared. Knowing I needed to make the most of this rare occurrence I hollered back, “I beat you to goal!”

That day my confidence grew in knowing that when I get low I can work my way back up. That the saying is true that there are more thermals than LZs–or at least I believe it more than I did before. And though I’ve made low saves before, this time I had to work every puff and think through to my next source all while under pressure to get to a landing area.

What a great training day!

I regret there are no photos to post, but a video is forthcoming.