| Author |
Comment |
Vince
(6/24/01 2:26:15 pm)
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Flight reports
6/22-6/24, Carson City, Nev.
Friday, 6/22, McClellan Pk., Wild West Regionals day 1:
There were about 30 pilots at launch, many less than last
year. The wind was blowing in at about 15 mph by 11:30. Pilots were
launching by 11:45. Not much seemed to be happening. When I got to
launch, there were about 10 pilots in the air and not getting much
more than 500 over launch. I decided to wait about 15 minutes. At
12:30 Jon James (who was about 3 gliders behind me in line)
suggested that I might think about launching. Up till then, no one
wanted to go in front of me. I was off less than 20 seconds later.
Right away, I got my foot stuck in my zip up string. I took over 5
minutes to get it out. I thought for sure I would have to head to
the bail out. I worked a slow thermal to 10,500', by then we (there
was about 6 gliders in the same thermal) had drifted over the back.
This same group pretty much stayed together for the next 3 thermals,
with Leo usually leading the way. The tail wind was good. We were
drifting 2 to 3 miles in each thermal and my ground speed between
thermals was around 60 mph.
I saw Matt come in under us at
the cone mine. He did not stay for long. He was going for a win in
the comp, where I was going for XC. My last thermal with the group
was north of Stagecoach. Matt left for goal as well as Leo. I headed
straight for the Fernley airport on highway 95. Leo made goal and
turned north to join me. I hit a boomer just before Fernley that
took me just short of 14,000'. I then headed up highway 80. My
ground speed was 73 mph. I found one more small thermal about 8
miles northwest of Fernley. Leo never caught up to me until I
landed. As I headed up 80 again, I was at 12,000'. There were no
clouds ahead of me. I ran into 1000 fpm sink that took me all the
way to the ground. I landed at exit 65 for 51.6 miles. I had
outflown the lift. As I was breaking down, Leo passed overhead. By
then, two cloud streets had formed on either side of the freeway
that went on for over 100 miles. Leo flew on for almost 20 more
miles and landed because he had lost radio contact. Because he had
flown over goal, his zigzag course was about 15 miles longer than
straight line.
We found out Saturday how good that cloud
street was the day before. An Atos pilot, who was under and behind
me at Fernley, flew 178 miles, which I believe is a record for
McClellan.
Saturday, it was blown out and the day was called.
I went to lake Tahoe with my brother and his
children.
Sunday, the forecast looked worse than Saturday so
I headed home.
Vince
I emailed Ernie a map of my
ground track. He will probably post it in the archive section.
And here it is. The track is red, starting
in the lower-left, next to Washoe Lake.
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MattsFlyin Jagelka
(6/26/01 12:54:01 pm)
|
Regionals
Report
"Friday, there were about 30 pilots at launch, many less than last
year. The wind was blowing in at about 15 mph by 11:30. Pilots were
launching by 11:45. Not much seemed to be happening. When I got to
launch, there were about 10 pilots in the air and not getting much
more than 500 over launch. I decided to wait about 15 minutes."
This
quote from Vince's post matches what I was also seeing and doing.
Next in line behind Vince were Bill V, me then Jon James. Todd had
launched about 15-20 min earlier along with Gregg Sugg and the
Desert Rats (Matt T, Jim Big Knee, Greg J and Chicken Little better
known as Rooster). With light crossing and occasional straight
cycles we took our turns launching. Leo Jones, Bob Stanley and Jerry
Mahoney launched with us from the adjacent launch. Lift was still
sketchy; it was a bit tough to find a strong solid core for that easy
initial climb out. Just to the right of launch provided the most
consistent path to "twirl on up" and I soon found myself cruising
thru 8300'. "Yeah!!" I exclaimed as I eyeballed the gaggle above me
which was already thru 10 grand. "No!!" I exclaimed as I promptly
fell out of the thermal and lost 300' trying to find it again. "Sound of a
Belch!!" (or something less euphamistic) I uttered as I headed back
out to above launch. I could hear Leo and Vince saying "Leaving at 11k"
or something equally annoying. Fortunately (for ME!) I immediately
hooked a good solid core and got to 10.5k fast. After drifting back
with it, I took a look towards the next range (Flowery) and could see
'em "twirlin' on up" once again. "Yee Hah!!" as I grabbed my v"G"
string and went on glide. "Yee Hah My Asspect Ratio" as I plummeted
down towards them.
Just to the north of the highest Flower, over the
sprawl of smaller half-rounded hills, light lift enticed me to
circle. Slowly gaining altitude and mileage toward goal, I drifted
nearer to the "Cone Mine". Finally, losing interest in light lift
& drift, I v"G" strung it on. Just before the Cone I could feel
the sink and pull of strong lift. Leo Joined me at this point and we
worked it up from about 8k. We climbed to 10.5k easily without hardly
disturbing each other. The thermal was so big it was as if we were
in two separate columns. I could see goal easily by now and with
speed in mind I tightened up for the glide in. Leo, of course, kept
climbing to maximize his chances for a long flight. Vince was also
still climbing with the same thought in mind.
Just as I moved my
right hand from the control bar to the VG string I went over the
falls. Since I immediately pulled in I caused a left turn (VG string
don't do a thing!) and found myself falling into the front left
flying wire. I let go of the string and went for that wire as fast
as I could. I was about to stuff my face into it and I really didn't
won't to do that. A half a second later I was straight and level
again. As the cliche goes "It happened so fast I didn't have time to
get scared" so I didn't dwell on it and just kept flying. I caught
one more thermal on the way but in hindsight I should have passed
it!
As I moved towards goal I checked my GPS for ground speed.
59 mph was the highest I could make out as I pulled in further to an
indicated airspeed of 50mph. I had to have been pushing 75mph! But
soon and rather quickly my ground speed dropped off to indicated! No
more tailwind!? Plus there was lift! Oh great, now I was excessively
high and would probably get to goal too high to be seen! Last year I
crossed goal either way too high or I didn't make it at all by
flying too fast! Well, I lucked out this year and crossed about
900' over. Still a bit high but better! I had flown the last 10
miles at 50mph and passed an unwary topless on the way!
Spiraling down to land, the thermic nature of the day was
apparent as my vario protested "Lift! Lift!". Leo soared by at 11k+ and
so did Vince. But, alas, the day was done, the prize was won and the
beer was getting warm! Found out later that I was third for the day
behind Kenny Brown and Rich Burton. About ten minutes separated Ken
from Rich and Rich from me. Ken set a new course record with a 44:47
time to goal (Silver Springs). Ken also launched after me and landed
before me. I actually saw him in the air once! (Damn, I'm getting
good!).
Once I learned of my standing I began to pray for "Big
Wind" and was elated to find Saturday blown out! Of course I
continued the Big-Wind-Ceremony till Sunday was blown out too, ensuring my entry into the
record books.
So there it is. A sure-fire way to get yer buckle.
Bob Stanley did it too, for fifth place! And Jerry Mahoney just missed it by 5 seconds,
getting sixth place, but no belt buckle! BTW, Jerry turned 70 this year!
16 pilots out of 25
made it to goal. Launching later seemed to help but it still wasn't
easy! King Mtn here I come!
Matt
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Vince
(6/27/01 5:56:40 am)
|
Kevin Cameron's (Atos
pilot at Wild West) flight report
Here's the story of the best flight of my life so far. It's
a little long but I felt compelled to write everything down.
While there are probably plenty of people out there for whom a
flight like this is not unusual, for me it was a life-changing
event.
I decided to enter the Wild-Wild West regionals just a
week before the event. I hadn't given it a whole lot of thought
or research but figured it would be nice to get a bit of
competition practice before going to the nationals at Hearne in
August. I called Paul Clayton since he has entered this comp
several times before and he, Mike Vorhis, and I ended up driving
to Nevada together. I'd never flown this comp or even gotten an
XC in that area before so it was nice to get some advice from
those guys aswe drove.
The first day of the comp (6/22/01), I
signed up, paid my money, and went up the hill (McClellan) like
everyone else. I set up quickly since I was advised to get off
and up before the strong winds kicked in. A bit later I was
standing in the launch line waiting for the pilots in front of me
who were (understandably) a bit reluctant to take off given the
number of pilots who were scratching out front. As I got close to
the front of the line, the meet organizer (Ray Leonard) said
"You're not in this meet." I said "Yes, I am." "No, you're not"
he said. "I paid my money" I said. "You'll get your money back
but this is a flex-wing-only meet". All I wanted was to be scored
with the others and have an externally provided goal to help
focus me and tune me up for other comps. If, by some miracle, I'd
placed in the scores, it wouldn't have bothered me to have been
disqualified from the prizes because of the disparity in wing
types. I'm more motivated by my own assessment of my performance
anyway. So, I resolved to keep score myself and try to make a
good showing.
I launched just as conditions were starting to turn
on and found it easy to get up. On the third thermal, I passed
through 9000 feet and committed to going over the back. Some of
the early birds were on course and marking the lift in front of
me. I got in with them and quickly climbed through 12,000 feet. I
radioed to Mike "Woo-Hoo! 12,400 feet. That's a new altitude
record for me". Mike radioed back "Woo-Hoo! I'm at 5,400 feet!"
since he had landed short of goal (better luck next time). I
continued on and was soon at the top of the stack (that's one of
the things I really love about my ATOS). I had been watching the
distance on my GPS but was surprised anyway when I saw
goal (about 28 miles east of launch on Hwy 50) and realized that
it was within an easy glide.
I was having a lot of fun and
really didn't want to land yet. Then I noticed that Vince Endter
was heading North toward I-80 on his ATOS. When I'd talked to
him while setting up, he said that his goal was Lovelock.
This seemed like a lot more fun than landing so soon.
Unfortunately, Mike and Paul were still on the ground awaiting
our driver (a local named "Jerry") and I had no idea how long it
would be before they got picked up and could start chasing me. I
really didn't want to lose radio contact and land without anyone
knowing where I went. Since I was a couple thousand feet above
Vince, I devised a cunning plan to stay with him and land close
in order to (hopefully) get a ride back. However, before I caught
him, I found a decent thermal and decided to climb in it while he
was still in sink. While climbing, I noticed belatedly that
Vince had caught some much stronger lift and was up to my
height already. So, I broke off from my thermal and headed off
into the sink to give chase.
I found the lift that Vince was
in and it was, indeed, strong. However, by the time I topped out
at about 14,000 feet, Vince had departed to the north-east and
disappeared into the haze and thin smoke from a fire near
Truckee. Oh well, So much for my cunning plan. Next time, when
I'm higher and decide to cover someone, I'll darn well COVER him.
By now though, the conditions were starting to look so good that
the possibility of a night in the desert didn't seem like such a
high price to pay. Besides, I'd recently been advised that, if I
wanted to start getting long XC's, I had to stop worrying so much
about how I'd get back and that it usually works out OK one way
or another. So, I headed out along I-80 in the direction that I
had last seen Vince. As it happens, Paul came on the radio about
ten minutes later and said he was on the road to come get
me.
I got over a nice-looking ridge to the north of the road but
soon found myself in sink. I had a lot of height but the sink
alarm kept blaring out for mile after mile. At about the 50 mile
mark, I had run out of ridge. I crossed over to a much lower
ridge to the south of I-80 and still didn't find anything. I went
a couple more miles and reached the end of that ridge too. I
was starting to consider where to land below but kept
reminding myself not to give up. I was down to about 6500 feet
when the sink alarm stopped. I slowed down and started searching.
Sure enough I got a few beeps of lift indication from the vario.
It was really light and broken up. I was flying slow and keeping
a light touch on the bar in order to feel out where the core
was. It was working and the vario started to beep more
consistently. Then, WHAM! The right wing instantly rose to nearly
90 degrees and I was in a huge slipping dive. I recovered and
considered my options. That thermal had definitely gotten my
attention. I was still low. The odds of finding another thermal
before I landed were slim. I still wasn't ready to land. So, I
turned the glider back into it and steeled myself for the battle
to come.
During the next minute or two, I got dumped out several
more times and was getting tossed about pretty good. I found
myself making full scale control movements just to try and stay
in the core. In the past, this would have scared me off. That
day, though, it didn't bother me. In fact, I was having fun. I'd
met the dragon on his own turf and was winning! It was this
mental state that carried me through the whole day, in
fact. As I climbed, the thermal smoothed out and got bigger. The
lift remained strong though and when I looked at my vario, I saw
that the averager was pegged at 1500 fpm. I think that's the
first time I'd ever seen it do that. I climbed past 16,000 feet
and headed back on course along I-80. There was lots more lift
along the way and and cumies were starting to form. Before too
long, I had made it to Lovelock (~90 miles). I looked around for
Vince though I knew the odds of seeing him were low. I heard
later that he landed where I nearly sank out.
The lift over
Lovelock was light, scattered, and broken up. I found a few very
light thermals to work and slowly drifted over the town at about
9000 MSL. About the time I got there (3 1/2 hours into the
flight), Paul and Jerry caught up with me. I thought that he,
Mike, and Jerry (our driver) were in the car. I found out after I
landed that Mike had gotten picked up by someone else and that
the Jerry in the truck was Jerry Mahoney. This Jerry was a meet
competitor whom Paul had picked up at goal because he needed a
ride back to camp. It would turn out to be a long ride.
After
about 30 minutes of drifting, I finally started finding some
better lift. Before too long I was high again and
heading downwind. While there were cumies present, they were
fairly widely spaced and not all of them had lift under them. The
air between them was filled with strong, turbulent sink. But when
I did find lift it was strong (though often rowdy). In fact,
it was undoubtedly the strongest air I've ever flown in.
Somewhere around Mill City I reached 17,500 feet. Between
thermals, the GPS was reading from 50 to 65 mph (~20 mph tail
wind). From Mill City, I continued north-east to Winnemucca. I
got there at about 9000 feet. There weren't any cumies near
the ridge that runs along I-80 (the East Range). I decided to
go over the back to the east and try to reach the next ridge
(the Sonoma Range) though I knew it would be stretching my
glide capability. I was down to about 1000 feet AGL (5800 MSL)
before I found some light lift over the center of the valley. I
drifted with it until I got close enough to Sonoma mountain to
jump to it and climb along its slopes. While doing so, I noticed
the GPS indicate 150 miles from launch. It was around 6 PM and
the lift was starting to get lighter and smoother. It took
about 30 minutes but I eventually got over the top of
the mountain and continued to climb to 14,000 feet.
At that
point, I had a decision to make. I knew that the best route would
be to continue to the north-east to not only follow the wind but
keep launch directly behind me and thereby make the most of
any distance I flew. On the other hand, I wasn't sure how
to describe which road I was on to Paul and Jerry. I decided
to play it safe and stay on I-80. The air was getting much
smoother late in the day. I did find some light thermals and
stretched my glide out for considerably farther than I thought I
would. I ended up landing a few miles short of the town of Battle
Mountain. Paul and Jerry drove up a couple of minutes later. The
straight-line distance was 174 miles and flight duration was 6
3/4 hours. I was a bit slow to pack up since I was very tired and
totally blown away by what I'd done. It took over 4 hours to get
back to camp.
The flight was something I've dreamed about for
years but wasn't sure would ever happen. Yet, as great as it was,
it's strangely unsatisfying. I find myself thinking about the
mistakes I made that cost me time and distance. I keep thinking
that, if I'd headed downwind from Winnemucca, I would very likely
have broken two hundred miles. I find myself daydreaming of other
long flights I'd like to make more than ever. I wonder whether it
was a stroke of freakish luck or if I will someday improve on it.
Ihope I do.
Kev
PS Thanks to Paul and Jerry for chasing me so far
out into the desert. Thanks to Ray for DQ'ing me from the comp.
Thanks to Vince for leading the way.
PPS My previous personal
bests were:
Distance: 13 miles (foot launch) 68 miles (tow
launch)
Altitude: 11,600 feet
Duration: 5 1/2 hours
|
Leo
Jones
(6/27/01 11:54:55
pm)
|
"Could do better
if he applied himself!"
As I hadn't entered the comp. I wasn't under any pressure to
compete, I was more concerned with not getting flushed, as
conditions didn't look too great to begin with. Todd and Greg had
launched first, but they were not exactly skying out, and several
pilots who had launched soon after seemed to be having a hard time
staying up. I wasn't keen to be scratching with 30 other gliders, so
I got out of line for a while, but no-one else seemed to be too keen
to take off either. After a few minutes conditions seemed to be
slightly improving so I took my turn and launched.
I love it
when I take off into a thermal. As soon as I took off I could feel
the glider lifting, glanced over my shoulder - no gliders, no
shadows, so I cranked it round - lift all the way, and I continued
circling and going up. Of course there was a bunch of pilots all
homing in on this thermal and it was getting crowded fast. "Right
turns within 1 mile of launch", was the rule, but I'm going right
and all these other folks are going left! Here comes Vince on his
Atos, we zoomed by each other, and I yelled, "Right Turns!", at him
before I realised that I was, in fact, turning the other way right!
Oops - sorry Vince and everyone! I topped out with Greg at 9,300ft
in this one, but decided not to go. I wondered for a minute if I had
blown it as I flew forward thru the sink, but I could see gliders
out in front lower than me, beginning to circle, and I quickly found
the lift and climbed to 10,300ft. As the thermal began to fizzle out
I was top of the stack duking it out with a guy on a Litespeed or
Laminar, but managed to stay above him. I hoped someone would leave
first so I could follow but no-one wanted to, and I ran out of
patience first and headed out.
Over Virginia City the guy in
the Litespeed passed me by like I was flying a single surface. I
could match him for glide or speed but not both, so I let him go,
and was gratified to find a thermal that he missed. This got me back
to about 11k and a few miles further I had great fun flying with
Dennis Harris, cranked up in a wingtip to wingtip circling match for
about 2000ft. Neither of us gained an inch on the other. We both set
off along the valley for goal (I had decided to try and make goal
and then continue as far as I could) but it was really sinky, so we
both hung a left and went back towards the Flowery Range where we
could see gliders working lift. Vince turned up, and the other Atos
pilot (Kevin), and then Matt. Dennis, Matt and I went for goal, them
flat out, me slowly, as I wanted to get there with as much height as
possible.
It was fun watching other gliders diving for goal.
I arrived there with about 10,000ft and found that goal coordinates
were in fact over half a mile further than the goal line. Having got
there I then tried to enter a GoTo for McClellan so I would know how
far I was from it, but as usual my GPS refused to cooperate. It
seems to suffer from vertigo - it works OK on the ground! I spent a
couple of giddy minutes trying to make it work, whilst all the time
flying one handed going round and round in what I eventually
realised was a strong thermal. At nearly 14,000ft I finally realised
that I'd better just fly the damn glider and forget the GPS. Vince
was long gone - he hadn't bothered going for goal and had just cut
the corner and headed for Fernley. I turned north and set off to
follow.
After leaving my nice thermal there was nothing but
sink. Worse, I was being blown east, away from the road and into
what I feared was restricted airspace. Vince, miles ahead with the
wind behind him, had reached I80 and announced that he had a
groundspeed of 70mph. The sink I was in got worse and I didn't think
I was going to make Fernley, in fact I didn't think I was going to
make the little airstrip by the road - I was down to less than
8000ft, battling a strong crosswind and sinking out with a
groundspeed of 22mph! I informed Vince, who told me that he'd
encountered similar sinky air but had got a thermal half way to
Fernley, and as soon as he said that I found a very nice thermal
too, that quickly got me back to 12K. I muttered "screw Fernley" or
words to that effect, and turned NE, cutting the corner towards 80. I
finally persuaded my GPS to accept a "GoTo" command.
Shortly
after that I heard Vince saying he was in lots of sink, and then
that he was on the ground. I relayed that to John, his brother, who
was driving (and who had been complaining that he couldn't catch
Vince and would he please slow down!) I drifted along 80 with a good
tailwind but again in lots of sink, and finally flew over Vince.
There were scattered high cumies forming over the hills to the north
and south of 80, but I had by now gotten too low to think of going
there. A few miles further I thought I had had it, I was down to
6500ft and told Vince I was probably going to land. I was down to
5300ft, only about 800ft over the road, zip partly open, when I got
a strong bump. I turned, lost it, found it, lost it and found it
half a dozen times, but slowly began to climb again. I got up to
6500ft, I could see I had flown 65 miles, and really began thinking
that I would fly 100 miles today (fatal mistake!), before I lost the
damn thermal that had seemed so good. I carried on and then found
another blob, but now I couldn't raise anyone on the radio. I really
should not have let this distract me but I did, lost my precious
lift and decided to land at the junction of 80 and 95. As soon as I
landed I felt disgusted with myself for blowing such a good day.
Just how good it turned out to be I didn't know until the next day.
Congratulations Kevin!
Ya gotta want it, ya gotta
concentrate. My flight was 69.7 miles. I landed by the intersection
that a friend and I spent all day (about 14hrs in fact!) trying to
hitch a ride from in 1975, the first time I came to the USA. We
nearly died of thirst before someone stopped for us! I never could
have imagined that I would land there in a hang glider 27 years
later!
Leo
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