Honey Bee Swarm

Sunday we were working out in the backyard, and a hissing sound like air leaking out of a tire promped me to look up. Thousands of honey bees were swarming throughout the yard, and Amber and I rounded up the dogs to take cover in the house. After milling about our yard for a couple minutes, they went over the fence to congregate around a tree nearby. Over a period of thirty minutes, their swarm concentrated on the tree trunk.

I tried to take photos of the swarm on the tree from our yard, but a closer inspection was necessary. I climbed over the fence with my camera and approached the tree.

When I was 20ft. away, a bee made a bee line for my face, and stung me on the cheek. I slapped the bee away and waited to see if others were coming out to assault me. I took photos while watching out for more pissed off bees, and stopped when I was 10ft. from the swarm. After a couple more shots, I retreated to the house. Never seen anything like it.

Dog Acro

Dan and Hildegard's dog, Shadow. He does quasi-back flips.

This would have been THE photo of the bunch, but Shadow jumped just a bit too high.

Starting the descent.

Alex took these photos minutes after Shadow had bit him in the ass. A little provocation was all it took for Shadow to break the skin. Since Adam's a Dr., I let him examine the wound site. :)

Photo contest

So Adam, Alex and I think we're all amateur photographers. We're also very competitive by nature. As we were looking through photos one evening, I suggested a photo contest. We could only take photos in the house. There was a five minute time limit to take the photos. No flash could be used. (my flash is broken) The first night Adam and I took photos in only the living room and kitchen. This was Adam's best shot:

This was my best shot:

Of course with more time, I could think of more creative photos, but the time limit forced our creativity.

The next night the three of us spent five minutes in the basement. I found nothing inspiring in the basement. Alex won hands down:

You may have noticed that I'm blogging about stuff that happened a week ago. I just turned my camera in for a repair to it's flash, and will be getting caught up on posts while I wait for it to be fixed.

Here's a hot air bag series and account of a HG lesson last week:

It's never good to litter, but taking into account the scientific application and entertainment value... well, it's still probably not good. We did try and find our two hot air bags, unsuccessfully.

Lesson 5/4/08

It was a rude awakening at 5:30am to get Adam to the airport. We left the house around 6 and I was back at the Point to teach a lesson by 7:30. Chad G. showed up soon afterward and we set up the Falcon and waited on the wind.

The lesson went very well. Chad has flown paragliders for years, so most of his experience is directly applicable. He's fully stoked on HG and learning quickly. Spent the rest of the day hanging with the in-laws and a Sunday afternoon picnic.

Drove up to Inspo and the road is open now !!

It was great to spend some time with Adam and Alex. I wish I had those guys around on a full time basis. They're both great photographers and motivated individuals. We could accomplish a lot together in terms of flying and photography if they lived closer. Not to mention have a hell of a time.

Airtime: 0. Flights: 2.

Flying 5/3/08

A quintessential south side session...

Turning base to final - Photo by Adam.

After staying up late and looking through photos with the guys, we weren't able to motivate to leave the house until 8am. We got to the south side, and things looked a bit light, so I took a hop on Rob's Spectrum while the boys set up my Spectrum. The wind was light, but lift was pretty solid, so I decided to set up the T2C.

Slippery setup. Photo by Alex.

As the morning progressed, the wind increased, and nice thermals began to come through. Adam and Alex took a break and broke out their cameras, and so I started "working it for the camera." For the next couple of hours, I just went off. The conditions were perfect, and I'm fully current in the T2, so we were working as one together. Adam and Alex would take turns on the Spectrum and I'd fly with one of them while the other took photos.

Ridge skimming. Photo by Adam.

I was deriving a lot of joy out of making low downwind passes over the parking lot and berm, then swooping up, and turning to skim back to the edge. There were a few people amongst the cars in the parking lot, one older gentleman in particular. During one of my fast passes, he was standing between a van and an SUV. We made eye contact as I approached the parking lot in full dive mode, and he started running back and forth, eventually crouching down to hit the dirt as I passed over. I swooped up laughing. How could he think I could possibly hit him when he was standing directly between two large vehicles? What made it funnier is that he repeated his running around and ducking a couple more times on subsequent downwind approaches. Too funny.

Downwind berm skimming. (stitched together) Photos by Adam.

We continued to fly our asses off until early afternoon, when conditions got uncomfortably turbulent. Alex had to get to the airport, so we broke down quickly and the three of us headed to lunch. At the end of our conversation-filled meal, Adam asked what behavior a helium balloon would exhibit suspended inside a car during turns, acceleration, and braking. We only had a few minutes until we needed to leave for the airport, so we jumped up and headed to the grocery store.

As the subject of their photography, I get spoiled when Adam and Alex are in town. Photo by Alex.

We found an appropriate helium balloon inside while Alex changed into his airline pilot garb for the ride home. It only took a couple of turns to definitively conclude that a helium balloon will lean in direct opposition to the g forces applied to it. This is because helium is lighter than air. In a turn, the air inside the car acts somewhat like a liquid and "sloshes" to the outside of the turn. This pushes the helium filled balloon to the inside. Slam on the brakes, and the balloon leans back. Take off fast, and the balloon leans forward.

Tuck your arms in. Photo by Alex.

After some erratic driving to the airport due to the balloon experiment, we dropped off Alex, and the three amigos reunion was over. Adam and I gave a sigh, mentioned how much we'd enjoyed Alex's company, and headed home.

Adam holding a prop while Alex changes into his stripper costume. "Excuse me ladies, would you like a free dance?"

Once back at the house, Adam and I spent the rest of the day literally playing with science experiments. We made paper airplanes and flew two hot air garbage bags at sunset. They both flew perfectly, drifting so little that we attempted to find them both before it got dark. (we never found either) Friends showed up around 9pm and Adam got his first experience with Guitar Hero. I've never seen someone pick up the game so quickly, and he enthusiastically played all night. We finally went to bed around 1am.

Airtime: 2:15. Flights: 5.

Flying 5/2/08

Adam and Alex visit - and we three amigos fly again...

It's been about 18 months since I've seen Dr. West. He's been back in South Africa inundated with field work and life in general. He had been working in California for a month and stopped in for three days last week. Alex had a brief break from work, and flew in to SLC to reunite the three amigos for the weekend.

We picked up Alex from the airport and got a late lunch before heading out to the north side. Spending time with these two is just awesome. We delved right into meaningful conversations about how life's treating each of us and got caught up in general. Which brings me to digress about a classic Alex moment: The previous night, I'd spotted a mouse in my house. I wanted to get rid of it ASAP, but Amber didn't want me to kill the cute little furry thing in the process. The next day I spotted the mouse running underneath the couch, and Amber, Adam and I spent five minutes chasing the little guy then Adam finally slammed a large metal bowl over the critter. I left for yoga, and Amber and Adam drove miles away to release the mouse. (Adam mentioned that they'll come back if you release them within a mile of the house)

There's a mouse in the house.

So, over lunch we're recounting the mouse catching story to Alex and he pipes up with, "Yea, Jo (his girlfriend) and I caught a mouse in our house and it found it's way back from four miles away. Adam skeptically said, "How could you possibly tell it was the same mouse", and Alex shot back immediately, "Because I marked it's ear with a Sharpie." We broke out laughing. Apparently Jo and Alex were arguing about the likelihood of the mouse returning. Alex pinned the mouse in the tupperware bowl he'd caught it in and marked it's ear with a Sharpie before taking it four miles away and releasing it. The story is something only Alex would do and an classic example of his existence.

The wind was a little strong when we arrived at the north side and they've started construction on the $750,000.00 park improvement project, so we looked around and the guys said hi to everyone who hadn't seen them in a while. Eventually we set up the Spectrum and I took a quick hop. The wind was quite cross to the ridge, and pretty rowdy, so I landed on launch after a couple of minutes. (the regular LZ has been torn up by earth movers.)

Landing on launch sequence.

Dive toward the gully between the PG and HG launches...

Relax as you pass through the rotor and let the glider settle in...

Rise up to the launch runway...

Scrub any remaining energy on the gravel runway.

Adam preparing to launch. Photo by Alex.

We waited a bit, and I took another hop. Conditions had improved, but still weren't very enjoyable. I landed again in the launch / setup area. After maybe another hour of visiting with the pilots present, Adam launched and promptly benched up in the dicey looking conditions. He spent 30 minutes staying high and boating around enjoying the air. Adam eventually landed west of the PG launch, and Alex went over to take his hop. We told Alex to fly for thirty minutes or so and land down below, and we drove down to take pictures of his landing.

Alex's touchdown. Photo by Adam.

Greg Billow landing. Obviously I had my shutter speed set incorrectly. :(

One of the most unique characters at the Point. John F. landing.

After Alex landed and broke down, we raced home to change clothes and slam down some food so we could make our 8pm racquetball reservation. After a couple games of cut-throat, Adam found his groove and ran away with the score. We left the recreation center sweaty and spent at 10pm. Limited time together means maximum activities.

Airtime: :15. Flights: 2.

Flying 4/28/08

Ahh... The Spectrum on the south side.

Adam flying the Spectrum.

Jeff and I arrived home late after an 11 hour drive back from Casa Grande. Since we had the opportunity, we decided one last south side session before he hit the road was in order. . The wind was sufficient when we arrived, and we set up the Spectrum.

We took turns taking hops on the Spectrum in the building conditions. It was perfectly hoverable, and I loved the easy to fly glider on the small ridge. The type of flying perfectly contrasted the airtime we'd had in the past week. Jeff left just before 10:30am, and I stuck around to fly. Put a spot out near the edge and practiced landings.

Launch Series - Photos by Alex.

Near the end of my day, there were three trucks that were four-wheeling around the bottom. A small honda was driving through, and somehow, the trucks and the honda had some sort of road rage incident. This sparked a thirty minute cat and mouse chase session with the honda and the trucks. They eventually went into the nearby subdivision, and the honda eventually was cornered in a cul-de-sac by the trucks. The honda driver raced toward the trucks, and when they tried to box him in, the honda just weaved around the oncoming trucks and kept the chase alive. After my entertainment left, I'd had enough and broke down for the day.

Airtime: 1:45. Flights: 10.

A WW Spectrum 165 was the first glider I ever owned. I flew it for almost 300 hours and in the process, fell in love with it's flying characteristics. After a few years without one, a friend of mine was selling his spectrum and I snatched it up. I find it such a pleasure to fly, and those who get a hop on it praise it's pleasurable nature.

Santa Cruz Reflections...

It's all over and I've had some time to reflect on my performance and the experience. There are many facets to the "comp. experience". Of course there's the flying itself, which is maybe the most important aspect of why I compete. But almost equally important is the trappings that come with the flying. The laughs shared with friends from around the globe. The travel. The exposure to new places and people. The overall experience.

Our trip down was filled with anticipation. We drove through the desert across the Glen Canyon Dam and down into the Grand Canyon Plateau as Jeff and I chatted about flying. How would we do? What were our goals? What tuning and flying tips would we focus on? It was great to have Amber and the dog along for the ride. They added to the festive feeling. We left the desert behind, and climbed into the mountains of northern Arizona as the sun set with music and beer to set our mood. Once past Phoenix, we picked up Kara from the airport and our comp nucleus was complete.

Arriving at the resort was a pleasure. It's time to hug friends from different countries and greet long lost friends with a smile. The anticipation reached a peak as we readied our gear for the first day. It's human nature to compete, and I'd wanted to personally do well for myself. When you're flying XC solo there are few objective benchmarks that you can use to assess your performance. Comps give you pilots to measure yourself against, and the opportunity to see who's flying better and try to improve to their level. Before the comp started, I thought a top ten finish would reflect personal success in my mind.

The anticipation of Day 1 soon turned to disappointment. I'd finished 49th for the day. My initial excitement was replaced with self doubt. What had I done wrong? Why had I "failed" to live up to my personal expectation? I was glad for the two hours to sit alone in my deserted desert LZ and contemplate my disappointment. I used the time to try and turn my melancholy mood around, unsuccessfully. The more I compete though, the more I realize that there will be severe disappointment from time to time. I'm doing a bit of a better job of not letting a poor daily performance carry on too long after my feet touch the ground, but I still dwell on the negative a bit too much.

The self-doubt in my flying turned around during the rest of the week of competition. My daily placings continued to improve: 10th, 7th, 7th, 3rd, and a win on the final day to cap off the comp. What had changed? I'd slowly gained confidence back during the week, but my flying hadn't changed. Everytime my feet leave the ground, I'm always out to just try my best. The resort and the company did so much to lift my mood beyond the flying. Having a hot tub to soak in and a cold beer or margarita after a hot dusty day of flying is nirvana. Capping off the evening over dinner with our wives and pilot friends was the icing on the cake.

The dynamic after the awards ceremony is always a bit strange. We are individuals from all over the world who converge in out of the way places to live very intensely for a week. We fly aggressively, party festively, and as a result, build strong bonds with some. Suddenly our time together is over and we sporadically depart back to our separate corners of the globe. Sometimes it's good to give a hug and wish a friend well, sometimes it's easier to slip away and leave without a word. Sometimes I wonder if and when I'll see someone in particular again.

Happiness is: Sharing an awards dinner with nine friends from Six countries. (Photo by Scott Gravelle)

Our wives had to leave a day early via plane to get home and attend to their lives. It left Jeff and I (along with the dog) to make the 11 hour drive back solo. On Sunday morning, when we pulled out of the resort and back into the desert, it had felt as though we'd just arrived. It seemed like a moment ago we were driving through the desert talking about how stoked we were for the future. Now we were rolling down the highway talking about how great the past week had been. There was a stretch of country just beyond Lake Powell where we sat for a long time in contemplative silence enjoying the afternoon sun on the red rock mesas. For me, it was idyllic rolling through the stunning scenery, with music to set our mood, and our memories of the past week for entertainment.

I'm ultimately thankful to have found an activity that gives me so much joy and personal fulfillment. I'm thankful that competitions have exposed me to outstanding individuals from far away places that I now call friends. I'm thankful to share such intensely enjoyable experiences with them. I'm thankful to have the health and disposition to participate in these events. I'm thankful to have a supportive network of individuals: My wife, family, friends, the Wills Wing partners, and KAVU crew, who encourage me and make following my dreams possible.

Santa Cruz Day 7

McCready theory and a pinch of luck :)

The task committee calls a 50 mile downwind task in the hopes of a fast day and a lot of people in goal. I'm first in line and wait until Dustin pushes to launch. Once on our own, the lift isn't getting us high, but not many are sinking out. This creates the worst congestion of the meet with everyone trying to outclimb each other with low climb rates and altitudes.

Awesome outdoor dinner on the last night. Photo by Scott Gravelle.

I survive the "death gaggles" and don't get frustrated with the congestion. As the second start time ticks over, I find myself higher with many of the major players, and when one of them makes a move, we all follow. We get the start three or four minutes late. It's a quick run to the Casa Grande mountains, and there's dust devils just to the south that most of us head for. Dustin and Nene go further south to another dustie, but I think they've deviated too far off course. I'm with Glen Volk and Derrick Turner with Jonny just below.

I get a 50 ft. altitude jump on Glen, and decide to lead out when the thermal we're in peters out to 250fpm. There are dust devils out in front, and they seem to be working better today.

Ten people from six countries at our table. Amazing friends from across the globe. Photo by Scott.

The next dustie offers me 600fpm and I leave when the lift peters out to 300fpm. My confidence is rising due to conditions and I'm following McCready theory intuitively. There is reliable lift over the dust devils. I now have a 300ft. altitude jump on Glen and others.

I continue to push out and blaze for a large dust devil ahead. I'm rewarded with 800fpm and leave when the lift peters out to 400fpm. My "speed ring" is moving up a bit. I can see other pilots that took an earlier start time out in front, so I push out fast. I resign myself to not stop for anything less than 400fpm, and try and keep a close eye on those in front. Pilots are chasing me just a couple minutes behind, but I don't see them.

Time to party down. Andre (first place), shares his trophy full of margarita with everyone. Photo by Jonny.

Once south of Picacho peak, I perceive the lift as more disorganized, and slow down just a bit. I can see Mike Detgoff ahead and higher, but not climbing strongly. I keep an eye on him in case he hits a strong one, and continue to search myself. Even though the lift is lighter, I find a couple of turns in 500fpm here and there. I'm still relatively high, so I continue to glide on looking for stronger cores.

Sharing the winning margarita with the girls. Photo by Jonny.

I find 700fpm and take as many turns as necessary to give me a 10 to 1 glide to goal. I'm not able to determine exactly how much tailwind component I have, so I want an altitude buffer into goal. It's 15 kilometers away. There is strong lift and sink on the way to goal, but my numbers keep improving, so I keep pulling in. I deviate just a bit to fly over a big dust devil and dolphin fly through it. When my numbers go to 7 to 1, I really pull in, and can see Mike circling to my right. I'm wondering what the hell he's doing still circling when we obviously have goal made.

Jonny and some of the Brazillians.

He sees me coming, and glides with me to goal. We arrive seconds apart, and I see only three rigid wings on the ground. I'm pretty certain Mike's taken the first start time, and that would mean I may have just won the day. I landed just outside the airport goal grounds with a smile on my face.

Photo by Jonny.

Just a couple minutes later, the sky starts raining gliders. This continues for some time, until probably 40 pilots are in goal. Rob Kells thinks that no one from the third start time went fast enough to eclipse my time, so things are looking a bit more certain. Shapiro and Dustin are both in, and Amber's right there to pick us up. We drive back to the resort all pleased with the day.

Waking and packing the next morning. The little girl looks disappointed to be leaving or hung over as well. :)

When everything is sorted, I did indeed win the day. Why did I win the day? The thermal markers were working and dust devils were more reliable than they had been. This gave me more confidence to lead out with the expectation of finding good lift. I intuitively used speed to fly theory based on each thermal's strength. Even though I was alone, I didn't stop for weak lift. And there was a bit of luck involved.

Airtime: 3:00. Flights: 1. Miles: 49.

Santa Cruz Day 6

Coughing up blood ???

The task committee called a 70+ bowtie route that we did last year. The difference this year was that conditions were much softer. I take a tow right after the launch window opens behind the blue trike. I wasn't concerned about getting blown out of the start circle due to the light wind, so I just wanted to get in the sky and enjoy the air. The tow was the scariest I've had in a very long time. Laura (the tug pilot) seemed to do the opposite of what was necessary when we'd hit lift and sink. I finally locked out at 1600ft. agl after getting stuck in the prop wash and pinned off.

Craig test flying a volunteer's glider. Photo by Jonny.

Saw a dust devil and climbed out in 900fpm with Mark Dowsett. The day looked very promising. We left our lift after we topped out and tried to hook up with other turning pilots, but none of the lift was equalling what we'd started out in. This would be the case for the next hour.

Jonny sometimes flies with Batman for inspiration. Photo by Jonny.

Conditions continued to be very soft, and we actually had a hard time moving out toward the edge of the start circle. Finally, by the third start at 2pm, I was in good position with other good pilots, so we headed off. The first leg of the course went painfully slow. We weren't getting very low, but the climbs were light and pressing forward was hard. There's a large area with cultivated fields along the way and they typically don't work as well as the bare desert. I was doing my best to stay with the group, but I was slowly loosing altitude, so I started pressing out first on my own line in the hope of finding something strong to get me back in the game.

As you can see, Batman and Jonny had a rough day.

Once out in the desert and away from the fields, conditions turned on a bit and I was able to get back into the game with a pretty strong climb. I headed on a long glide toward the turnpoint, only to get low after making it around. Daniel from Columbia and I got down to 1000ft. before finding something to turn in. Eventually I climbed back up. I'd gained back a good position and given it up again in one thermal. I thought I was falling behind, so after climbing out again, I glided fast toward the second turnpoint. We were out of the desert and back over the cultivated fields and a significant gear change was necessary. Unbelievably we had to stop for anything around 100fpm. I came in over Nene and soon other pilots started dribbling into our climb until we were about seven. After topping out, we headed toward the third turnpoint. The seven of us rounded the turnpoint just over 1000ft. We found a weak climb and hung out in it for all it was worth. We were now getting blown off courseline. When the lift petered out to 40fpm, I decided to leave. The others stayed. At this point, I started coughing and it felt as though there was phlem in my throat. I coughed a couple of times hard, and spit up a clump of bright red blood on my basetube. WTF? I never get nose bleeds and have never coughed up blood, so I was very alarmed. I coughed a second time and more blood came up. I became frazzled. I was 700ft. agl and suddenly couldn't concentrate on my flying. I passed through a couple of bubbles, but I can't remember whether they were strong enough to turn in or not. I just tried to dolphin fly my best toward goal. As I sank, I decided it would be ok to land in case there was something wrong with me. I was soon on the ground and feeling just slightly dizzy, so I called Belinda right away to relay my position to someone. She mentioned that she gets sinus bleeding in the dry air and I likely had a bloody nose that went down my throat instead of out my nose. The obvious answer made perfect sense, and the bleeding had stopped after less than ten minutes. It would have been convenient for this to happen at any other time in my flight.

Bloody Basetube.

Bloody helmet.

I watched the others that I'd left make their own final glides toward me. Jeff landed 700m away from me. Depending on where everyone ended up, I either got third or fifth for the day. No one made goal. I was two miles away. My shoulders were definitely feeling the flight. Another five hours in the harness. We came back, soaked in the hot tub and got good sleep after a festive dinner.

Airtime: 5:00. Flights: 1. Miles:63.

Santa Cruz Day 5

An exercise in human group dynamics...

In the end, the group decides to cancel the day due to wind. There were many other factors that played a role. It's been very dusty out on the paddock. People are fatigued after four days of good flying. The rigid wing pilots were complaining out on course that they weren't getting that high. I wanted to fly. If we were in Forbes, we'd be flying. The group and safety committee cancelled the day.

When you're the #1 ranked pilot in the world, you tend to have a following. Click on the photo and see how many gliders you can see following Jonny. I see 10.

We made the best of our day off by spending time with the girls relaxing around the pool. After an afternoon in the sun, we stayed at the resort for their Thursday evening BBQ. There's a sweet spread outdoors, and we sat on the patio and enjoyed the amazing buffet. It was about 8pm when we finished eating, and the afternoon spent with a few drinks was taking it's toll. We were in bed before 9pm and I slept very well.

The outlanding story

Outlandings can be an adventure. Earlier in the week, a woman delivered a bucket of ice cold beers to Chris Smith after his outlanding. A foreign pilot, who will remain anonymous, had an even better outlanding adventure.

He landed next to a large irrigation canal, and eventually some locals drove over to his side of the canal. After a bit of conversation, they offered the foreigner a beer, said goodbye, and began to drive off. A moment later, they stopped their truck and yelled back to the pilot, "Hey - do you smoke pot?" The pilot smiled back and said, "Well not really, thank you anyway though." The guys in the truck backed up, handed the pilot a joint and lighter and said, "Take this and you'll be just fine." With that, they sped off in a cloud of dust.

So - the pilot enjoyed the beer, broke down his glider, and began to wait for his ride. When it became apparent that he'd be waiting some time, he decided to strike up the joint and took just two puffs before extinguishing the little cigarette. (I assume he didn't inhale.) The pilot enjoyed a blissful hour or two getting aquainted with his spot in the desert. I asked him what he did with the remainder of the joint he'd been given. He said he found a suitable animal hole, and buried the remains of the joint. When I asked why he'd simply bury such potent pot, he replied, "These things can be dangerous and I didn't want to risk loosing my visa." Fair enough. As I sat and laughed with him in the hot tub, he quickly added, "But I have the coordinates." We laughed even harder.

One of the beauties of outlanding is the possibility of a grand adventure. You never know what you're going to get when you come floating out of the sky into a desolate area.

Santa Cruz Day 4

A day for saw-toothing...

Can you imagine a prettier sight?

Winds were expected to be higher, so a 60 mile dog-leg task to the south east was called. Jeff and I set up in the dirt at launch and breezy cycles brought blowing dust to coat everything before we launched. It was unpleasant, but I didn't let it bother me. Since the wind was stronger, it was necessary to play more of a launch game, and I got towed up at 12:45. Rhett was towing me, and I could feel little wind on my face despite my fast ground speed in the cart. I stayed in the cart longer than normal, and when I popped off the cart, I promptly settled back down, my belly resting on the cart and basetube in front of the cradles. It was a sketchy moment, but I just laid on the cart and waited for speed to build. Eventually, I came back up, and I looked down briefly to make sure I wasn't towing the cart up with me. The rest of the tow was fine.

After flying around for 45 minutes trying to stay high and beat upwind, I was in great position for the first start. I saw that Jonny and Andre Wolf (#1 and #2 in the meet) weren't taking the first start, so I decided to head upwind again and wait. After getting lower on my own, I thought I'd screwed myself, but then I found a thermal which turned on at just the right time. I climbed up to 8000+ agl just at the right time, and took the second start. I had a couple of pilots just out front and below me, and as the glide progressed I spotted Jonny and Andre just above and in front of me. Perfect.

Waiting to launch. Photo by Jonny.

We stayed reasonably fast on the first leg crosswind toward Piccachio peak, and just before the peak, I broke away on my own to find a nice thermal and hook up with Alex "warm butter" from Brazil. Eventually the strong wind aloft pushed us directly over the peak, and we found ourselves reunited with about 15 pilots (including Jonny and Andre) as we topped out.

It was great to have the girls with us. Photo by Jonny.

Getting to the first turnpoint was difficult against the wind, and we had to take a strong thermal and drift a mile away from the turnpoint before beating directly into the wind to get it. Once past, it was necessary to saw-tooth hard into the wind to stay on courseline. At first it wasn't looking reasonable to make goal. We were staying pretty high and the thermals were strong, so those favorable aspects made progress possible.

Thermalling with Shapiro. Photo by Jonny.

Leo Dabbur was staying just higher than Andre and I and leading out. Andre and I would follow with Jonny moments behind. Leo kept pressing ahead, and I spotted a huge dust devil break off in a field, and tried to slide toward it without attracting too much attention. Andre either saw me or the dustie and moved over right away to follow me. There was a great climb in the area, and I had a good jump on everyone. The wind had bunched up everyone's proximity, and fifteen or more pilots entered the climb underneath. I got almost 9000ft. agl. and had 9 to 1 to goal before I headed off with Andre and Jonny. We had 21 kilometers to goal.

We passed this parking lot of jumbo jets a couple times. Photo by Jonny.

Unfortunately 9 to 1 wasn't going to cut it, and I slowly watched my glide numbers get worse. Andre pressed on, and I stayed back due to my performance on the previous day. I didn't want to land a mile short again. Jonny was with me, and this time it was his turn to find the good lift first. I went over to join him in his 500fpm thermal and get my numbers to 7 to 1 before heading to goal. Jonny had a one turn jump on me and was 20-30 seconds ahead. There was more lift in the last few kilometers to goal, and I arrived maybe 600ft. over. I was sixth or seventh for the day. Unfortunately NeNe landed a mere 900meters short. Maybe 20 pilots total made goal. It was a challenging task due to the crosswind. Michael Williams and Derrick Turner, two guys with a lot of "natural ballast" did well and it prompted me to ponder ballast. I've got some with me, but haven't put it in my harness so far. I'm the only one flying the big T2C (besides Leo), even though I weigh about the same as Davis and Zippy. It has made me think seriously about transitioning to the small T2C when I get a new glider.

We also brought the little girl along. Despite having to go to the vet during our stay, it was a joy to have her with us.

Most of the usual suspects were at goal. Jeff made it. Phil Bloom did well. Scott Gravelle did too. Fillippo had the fastest time for the day, and Brett got lots of lead out points. Fillippo won the day I believe.

Airtime: 3:20. Flights: 1. Miles: 60.

Santa Cruz Day Three

The margarita was so close I could taste it...

Resort Flora

With supposedly light west winds late in the day, the task committee calls a 70 mile triangle coming back. Our days have been surprisingly full, with practically no down time. We get up, have breakfast, set up, pilot's meeting, and head straight out to the tow paddock. Launch at noon, get picked up at sunset. Eat a big dinner, and crash out.

Jeff and I were keen to get in the air early again, and we joined Chris Smith as the first pilots in the sky. We were rewarded with a 500fpm climb right off tow, and I was enjoying making circles in the desert with my friends. Our thermal petered out, and we just milled around the resorts in different climbs waiting the 90 minutes until the first start time.

Flying machines litter the back lawn.

Near the start, there were two large gaggles, one just inside and one just outside the start. I was inside the start circle and high, and I took the first start after thinking NeNe took off as well. (he didn't) All of my mates on the radio held back and waited for the second start. I was still with a good pack of pilots including Glen Volk, Tyler B., Derrick T., and Daniel from Columbia.

We moved pretty well only stopping for strong climbs and soon we were nearing the first turnpoint. I was one of the highest in the group and found a 800fpm climb just after the turnpoint allowing me to climb higher than the rest. Craig Coomber and a couple of others were just below, and I led out when the thermal decreased in strength.

Team KAVU in the lineup. Photo by Jonny.

Took a long, smooth glide toward a particularly large swampy area I've crossed a couple of times here before. (it's notorious for not producing thermals.)

As I neared the swamp, I was lower and alone, and suddenly spotted Campbell Bowen in his rigid wing to my right. I went to his climb which wasn't that strong, so I continued to press out and Campbell followed. Found a 300fpm climb just before the swamp that got us to 3000ft. agl, and motioned to Campbell I wanted to head out over the swamp. There was no lift over the swamp and I headed for the best looking features on the ground along courseline. Soon we were down to 1000ft. and I headed for a dust devil I'd seen a minute earlier. There was only light lift around, and we kept aiming for dusties hoping one of them had a decent thermal.

Making unique friends all over the world. Fillippo from Italy. Photo by Jonny.

At this point, Andre Wolf, Brett, and a couple other pilots caught back up and we all worked low for a long time. I watched Andre do a great job at low saving. He makes it look effortless. Once we were relatively high again, we pressed out toward the second turpoint. We were getting low around turnpoint 2, and Andre headed off courseline for some reason. Even though there were more green fields directly on courseline, I followed my arrow and found a slow climb around 1000ft. agl.

I was alone again, and did my best to stay in the air and stay high. Eventually Craig Coomber joined me, and we worked together trying to stay up and make progress against the wind. Soon Jonny came in with us, and the three of us worked well together. The lift was light, but we were still in the sky and slowly making out way back to the resort.

"Honey, I was checkin on the cows and these strangely dressed aliens landed in our pasture. Get my gun." Photo by Jonny.

There's a small mountain range about 8 miles before the resort, and when we were near, I pointed to Jonny that I was heading for the ridge. He and Craig stayed, and again I was on my own. I found a perfectly placed 500fpm up over the ridge, and worked it the best I could. When my GPS said 11 to 1 to goal, I decided to leave even though I was still going up at 200fpm. I thought surely I'd find a bit of lift on the way in.

Jonny taking a photo of the comp winner Andre Wolf from Brazil.

As I started gliding, I noticed the wind that had been light on the east side of the mountain, now picked up significantly. We were heading straight into it. I vigilantly searched on my glide for the lift I needed to get me to goal. Probably 6 or 700ft. of additional altitude would have allowed me to make it to the grass and a waiting margarita, but I met the ground one mile from the resort. Had I waited and topped out at the peak or waited for Dustin or Jonny to come in beneath me, I'd have made it and received 3rd or 4th for the day. Instead I was 7th. Jonny Craig, and Dustin made it in after me.

The masked Canadian waiting to launch. Photo by Brett.

It was a good lesson learned. I was highest and all I had to do was wait for others to lead out to goal. Jonny and Dustin along with Craig did find lift on the way to goal. It turns my stomach to realize I made such a stupid mistake.

I need to learn from these lessons and make sure to implement change. I've made this particular mistake before.

Desert sunset. Photo by Brett.

I had some time to lay in the dirt as the sun went down and contemplate my flight. Once back at the resort, we got a soak in the hot tub, a shower, and enjoyed dinner over a ton of laughs in the bar. These comps are certainly about the flying, but it's also very much about the time spent with amazing people from all over the world. It would have been nice to stay up and party, but we were worked from the flight and fell fast asleep before midnight.

Airtime: 5:10. Flights: 1. Miles: 69.

Santa Cruz Day 2

A towplane does a touch and go on a couple of gliders.

The morning was busy. Davis had complained that his glider's VG wasn't working properly and it had a turn. Rob Kells asked Jeff and I to work on the glider and test fly it. Before the pilot's meeting, we went out to the tow field and set up the glider. Tweaked it for the turn, and worked on the VG a bit. We quickly stopped at the meeting, then brought our own gliders out to the paddock. I helped Jeff suit up for a test flight which went well. Soon we were calling the girls to come out to the tow field to prepare for our noon launch.

Out on course. Photo by Jonny.

The launch lines have been long, and I've been keen to get in the air early. As soon as the rigid pilots were towed up, I was the first flex wing in line. Got a tow to 2000ft., and pinned off in what I thought was lift. (turned out to be very light) I spent a while just boating around not gaining or loosing too much hoping that other pilots in the air would show me where better lift was.

Photo by Jonny.

Soon I was down to 500ft. over the paddock and working very hard to make sure I didn't have to land and endure a long wait in line. Eventually Mark Dowsett, Raul, and I worked a light thermal low until it finally turned on and got us up again. Once we topped out, there was still over thirty minutes until the first start, so we all just milled around.

Jonny slides up a bit closer. Photo by Jonny.

Near the first start time, I hooked up with Nene and Jonny along with a couple of other pilots. Although we were in good position, not many people took the first start time, so we hung out high. Most of the other pilots in the area were groveling pretty low, so I was feeling fortunate to be boating above.

As the second start ticked over, NeNe Jonny and I took off together. We were high and took a long glide toward the first turnpoint eventually getting somewhat low. We went into survival mode searching for lift above a small dust devil first, then going over to a slowly climbing glider. Eventually after a lot of searching the lift turned on and we topped out then got back in the game. Some pilots had caught up and passed us, but they were lower and we glided over them searching for the best core.

The Red Bull girls came out a couple of days. Photo by Jonny.

The three of us worked well together, and were flying a bit cautious as the lift wasn't brainless and strong. Good cores were pretty elusive. As we neared the second turnpoint, I missed a climb that Jonny and NeNe got, and soon I was 500ft. or more below them. I decided the only way I was going to get back in the game was to lead out and find a stronger climb, so I headed off toward the turnpoint. As we neared Piccacio peak, I spotted a fighter jet streak beneath us, then make a steep turn over the peak just in front of me. The sound of his afterburner came in a few seconds after he passed, and he rocketed toward the south disappearing. Although he was several thousand feet away, it scared the piss out of me. If he was at our level, we'd be a bug squished on his windshield.

(Mike McFadden coined the term "bromance" during our stay. It isn't a derogatory term, just a descriptor for the type of bonding that occurs at the comps.:) Shapiro and Dustin. Photo by Jonny.

Near the second turnpoint, I did find a strong climb and was able to gain some ground back on Jonny and NeNe. About this time, Davis got on the radio and said we'd soon be flying into a 15+mph wind and he didn't think anyone would be making it to goal. At this point, I should have realized that slowing down and tanking up on altitude would be the best thing to do. Jonny and NeNe weren't slowing down though, and there wasn't a well defined core in our area, so I got the second turnpoint and headed into the wind. Despite being pretty high, I didn't really find any core worth turning in. When I was around a thousand feet, Jonny and Nene found something worthwhile, but I was either too low or not in the right position to climb with them. I got as far as I could, and landed in a desolate cow pasture with zero ground speed.

My landing paddock behind Picacho Peak. I was eventually joined by six other pilots.

After being on the ground for thirty minutes, Belinda found me and I heard Jeff on the radio giving his position. His position was very near us, and I looked up to see half a dozen gliders almost directly overhead. I encouraged Jeff to keep working against the wind, but it was a battle, and soon he and five other pilots landed next to me in the same field.

Fifteen minutes later, we saw two gliders up high passing overhead. It was Andre Wolf and Derrik. They would get first and second for the day. I think Nene and Jonny were next, then our group maybe. Some of the guys in my field will likely be in the top ten. Overall, I was pleased with my performance. While I didn't stay with Jonny and Nene the entire time, we did work closely together for 1/2 the course. I could have slowed down and conserved my altitude just before the second turnpoint as well.

The reasons for our success. Photo by Jonny.

When I got back home, I'd heard that Rhett hit two gliders with his towplane. He was cutting it close on landing as he always does and got hit with significant turbulence. He grazed Davis' glider, then smacked Larry Bunner's breaking his crossbar. Jeff's glider was next in line, and Rhett's wheel missed Jeff's glider by inches. Rob Kells ran for a replacement glider for Larry and a new crossbar will show up today from WW. It was lucky there were no injuries. We ended the day with dinner in town with Fillippo (Italy) and Alex "warm butter" (Brazil)

Photo by Jonny.

The resort reward after a long flight.

Airtime: 3:30. Flights: 1. Miles: 49.

Santa Cruz Day 1

I fall down in a big way.

Our desert flying paradise.

Everything is just as nice here as it was last year. Wonderful pool, bar, restaurant, and all the flying happens in such close proximity. The internet has changed, and no longer do we have wireless in the rooms and it isn't free. Therefore I've been reticent to pay for access.

What's the layout of our oasis you ask?

Photo by Brett or Dustin

A little further away. Photo by Jonny.

Day one was filled with anticipation. They called a 65 mile triangle coming back to the resort. I was one of the first few pilots in the air, and Rhett was towing me up. The towline went slack at 300ft. and my weaklink snapped when the line went taught. I briefly tried to work a bubble of lift, but then decided to just go land and re-tow. The wind was light and 90 degrees to the direction we were towing. I made a final turn 50ft. over the towplane and Jeff as he was taking off. I had to negotiate around the dolly and the guy driving the ATV retrieving the dolly. Had to run out my landing in front of the line of competitors, took a deep breath, and shuffled to the front of the line.

The lineup on the first day. Photo by Jonny.

Took another uneventful tow and began playing the start game. I was settling in and things were going fine. I saw Dustin take the first start and Davis got on the radio saying he was going to take the first start as well. I said I was hesitant to go out with them, and I was going to wait for a later start. Jeff hung out as well.

Where we tow in relationship to the resort. Photo by Jonny.

I wasn't in great position for the second start, so I decided to wait around for the third. I noticed less and less pilots around me, and I was beginning to think I'd made a mistake. (I had) Once the third start ticked over, I started off on my own thinking I'd catch up to pilots already on course. The day, (for me) just wasn't strong. Lift was broken and sporadic. Soon I was down to 1500ft. and in survival mode. I found a few light thermals that kept me around 2000ft. agl, but nothing strong enough to get me back in the game. Frantically I searched for anything that would keep me aloft. At 200ft. I flew to a red tail hawk hoping he'd show me where lift was, but soon my feet touched the ground. I was really dejected. My primary goal was to not make any major mistakes, especially at the beginning of the comp, and I'd screwed myself on the first day.

Our Desert Flying Oasis at the edge of the start circle. Photo by Jonny.

My lonely canal landing area.

The nearest homeowner came out and helped me break down as we talked. The girls eventually picked me up and we headed back into town. Eleven pilots total made goal. One of the only saving graces was that Chris Smith also bombed, keeping our rivalry alive. :) Now that I've hurt my chances of a good showing in the meet, I can completely relax and fly more freely.

Airtime: 1:30. Flights: 2. Miles: 19.

(I was 49th on the first day)

Party in the Big House - 2008

I'm back home after a very fun and successful trip to Arizona. It was disappointing to be so busy and not have internet access while I was down there. I did get a chance every morning to write up a blog post / log book entry, and I'll be publishing the stories this week along with photos. It's all in the past now, but I'll go along in chronological order...

The "practice" day

Our desert oasis is no longer a secret...

The courtyard the evening before the comp.

After an enjoyable 10 hour drive through the desert, we picked up Jeff's wife at the Phoenix airport and made our way to Casa Grande by midnight. Had to spend the night in another hotel as our reservations @ the Francisco Grande didn't start until Saturday night. Woke up, got coffee and headed west of town to the resort. Familiar faces littered the lawn areas and as always, it was great fun to exchange hugs with friends from far away places. Many had not met our wives and it was great for them to put faces with the names they may have heard from our previous trips.

I had a lot of work to do on my gear, so I set to work as the HG crowd around the resort thickened. Rob and Trish Kells were especially helpful. Got my harness sorted, then it was time to set up the glider. Maybe 20 pilots took a test flight in the building conditions. (the wind was consistently picking up throughout the day) The only incident happened when Zac (zippy) broke his thumb landing. He's broken the finger before and thinks he can fly despite the soreness and swelling.

Jeff and I were going to take a flight, then motivation waned and we settled into the "resort life" and visited. The girls had a margarita at the pool and we ate dinner at the bar before the pilot's meeting.

The pool area was packed with people at 6pm for the meeting. Last year it was just a intimate group of us, this year it's a full on international field with a high caliber of pilot. The world #1 ranked pilot is here :) along with maybe 15 of the top 20 pilots in the states. There are competitors from seven countries. Up to this point it's all been anticipation filled talk. Today we'll quiet some of the anticipation when our feet leave the ground.

Kells hits the road.

Peter sent me this photo of Rob hitting the road with a truck full of gliders. (and making an essential stop!)

Suddenly the niche HG world is abuzz with activity about Santa Cruz. My level of anticipation has been rising all week.

Spring weather

Monday - Sunscreen. Tuesday - Snow...

Cropped this image from Monday. I dig the composition now.

Staying up late and getting up early trying to complete what I can before leaving on Friday.

Flying 4.14.08

Tuft work...

A rare site at the south side - Atos VR.

Johann launching.

John L., Dan Mc, and Craig were enjoying the PG free air when I arrived @ 8am. Was able to set up without gloves and set to work on re-installing the video camera for some aerodynamic data gathering. Bigfoot was out with his Atos and Johann Posch showed up with his Atos VR to get some much needed airtime before the comp. next week. Dangerous Dave showed up completing our motley crew.

Dangerous Dave's "old school" style :) Dave thinks "old school" is just euphemistic for saying he's plain old. Not true Dave.

Video camera mount and yarn tufts on downtube, sidewire, and harness.

I took a few 10 minute flights adjusting my harness angle until I got things right. With the comp less than a week away, I'm feeling good about my flying skills despite the break in comp. flying, but my preparation feels disorganized. I'm sure it's the nature of the situation and things will sort out as Sunday approaches. (whether I'm fully prepared or not)

What the PG pilots do when it's too strong. They bring out their speed flying kites and take sledders.

For me the strange part of the day came when a short stubby man with gray hair and a long goatee showed up with his dog. He began milling around the gliders and finally spoke up in a redneck southern accent, "I used to fly one of these things, until I shot myself." Dan looked up from breaking down his glider and asked, "Oh yea. How'd you shoot yourself?" The dog owning redneck replied, "Dropped my rifle. I've still got some nerve damage and shrapnel in my belly and my legs don't work that well."

Steve Rathbun - Atos C.

He continued to mill around muttering disjointed thoughts and letting his dog get some exercise. When it was time to leave, his dog wouldn't cooperate, so he walked over and picked up the dog to carry it to the car. When he bent over, I spotted the handgun tucked into the back of his pants. It took me a few seconds to process seeing the gun, and by the time I thought of asking him why the hell he felt it was necessary to carry a gun in his pants while he walked his dog, he was a bit too far away. If he's dumb enough to drop his rifle and shoot himself, I'm sure he's dumb enough to sit sideways on his glock and shoot himself in the ass or worse a bystander. (Maybe all NRA members are supposed to carry concealed weapons in honor of Charleton Heston's passing :) Pro or anti gun doesn't matter - carrying a piece in your greasy ass crack atop a deserted mountain ain't right.

After the gun toting dolt left, we continued to fly until conditions became too strong. Dave and I flew a bit too long as we had to break down in a sandstorm behind the berm. I'm glad for the opportunity to get some final tweaking in before heading to Arizona Friday.

Airtime: 1:45. Flights: 5.

Flying 4.13.08

Everyone's coming out of hibernation.

Conditions weren't the best when I got to the South side @ 8:30, so it was a perfect time to say hey to everyone coming out of hibernation. Dan and Hildegard are back from Costa Rica and many of the not so usual suspects were out. Lots of hang gliders were set up, but no one was flying. (it was light, inconsistent, and there was heavy PG traffic.)

I set up slowly and decided to take a flight as traffic thinned out a bit. Turned out to be good enough to stay above the PG's and I tried to decide if my glider needed any additional tuning.

After almost an hour of airtime, I put a video camera out on the wing along with yarn tufts on the control frame and around the glider to assess my harness position. Conditions had lightened, but thermals were strong enough to allow me to get some objective data. Landed, made some adjustments, and took another flight. Conditions continued to deteoriate and this time I sunk out. Had an uneventful landing at the bottom and called it a day.

After looking closer at the video, I've got some changes to make. Tomorrow is supposed to be better, so I'm looking forward to a sunrise session.

Airtime: 1:45. Flights: 4.

AND... The amazing / strange YouTube videos: Monkey on a mini bike. Watch him look out for traffic before opening up the throttle.

Saw this mentioned on another HG forum. I thought it was amazing. Just one minute long.

HERE

Video grazing

Who has time for a sitcom? YouTube is perfect for entertainment grazing...

Below are clips each less than a minute that I think are interesting.

1984 triple reverse flip from 172ft. After 1984 height was limited in competition to 100ft. His arms, legs, and nose are braced up. I had this clip on VHS for years.

HERE

Fastest speed attainable on land without a motor. Speed skiing. World record is 150mph + Rubber suits melt to your body when you crash if you don't roll around.

HERE

World record motorcycle jump. (without a HG strapped to the bike :)

HERE

Olympic trampoline gold medal performance 2004

HERE

Indoor windsurfing. How about indoor hang gliding?

HERE

Home made smoke ring generator

HERE

Instant snow

HERE