Rat Race 07: A personal perspective

This is about Rat Race 07 from my perspective. First of all, this was a fairly stressful trip for me. I had a few external issues that constantly competed for my attention. Foremost, my father was in the hospital in the ICU for lung complications. I rented a car to have the flexibility to leave at a moments notice in case his situation worsened. 2nd, I'm the lead on a huge base project and had to manage it from Oregon. This meant that I had to goto base camp early in the morning each day to "take care of business" on the Internet. And finally my final exam for one of my poli-sci classes was due during the rat race. I'm not complaining, but I just wanted to say that there was alot going on in my noggin. Nevertheless I was extremely excited to be in a competition. It would be cool to meet the pilots you read about and to see all the new equipment and techniques.

I flew into Seattle a couple of days early to visit my sister. She talked non-stop about every issue under the sun (we don't talk too much so she feels the need to catch up). Had a nice evening with her friends, who are all exceptionally beautiful. A typical "grass is greener on the other side" story. But at the end of the day/night, you have to remind yourself that you live in Hawaii...

Off to the rat race! I peeled the plastic off of Suicide Pete's brand new Garmen 76S GPS he let me borrow. I really wished he'd let me borrow the used one because I didn't want to scratch up the new one! Practicing on the GPS during the drive was great. It even had highway information even though I think I can manage navigating I-5. Unfortunately I should have practiced more. I remember passing through Grant's Pass thinking, wow, this is a turn-point in the competition, I'm still 30mi away from Ruch! I can't do this!

I'm now nearing Medford Oregon, I decide to call up Pete since I plan on crashing in his tent for the duration of the event. He immediately dispatches me on a search and rescue mission to find Quentin. This dashes my plans for stopping by a grocery store to stock up on supplies. I find Q and 3 other pilots in a field. They all can't fit into my car so I end up taking Mike Steed to the HQ. He just happens to be the Master's winner from last year. I actually recognized him from the website and proceeded to suck all his knowledge from him. He didn't seem to mind the vulcan mind meld grip I had on his head. Better than walking I imagine.

I arrived at camp and discovered that Paul had Ray's old tent that I could borrow. Sweet! A huge tent to myself. During the previous day, Rich had setup a one-man tent, but moved to the big Pete/Paul tent. Rich's tent was an uneven shanty shack compare to the other mansion-like tents. Scrappy arrives out of nowhere after some snafu at the airport. I thought about directing him to Rich's tent-shaped piece of nylon, but decided that it would be rude. Instant roommate, no chance for inviting random Oregon hotties. Of course I'm just kidding/dreaming. Scrappy proved to be a great roommate overall, I just felt like we were fierce competitor's throughout the competition.

In addition to our huge tents, Pete and company erected the "poker" tent. It was huge and surrounded by tiki torches. A picnic table dominated the interior. There was a cartoonishly large amount of alcohol stacked at one end of the table. I'm really surprised the table didn't flip over. I won the first poker tournament, which was good because the buy-in took my last $20. As the week wore on, my new-found fortune would be redistributed.

Later that night Pete and motorhead Paul decided to play together. It was pretty much a lose-lose situation for Pete. If he won the wrestling match, he would only beat an older man. If he lost, well, you know. I'll let the pictures tell the story. We did not make for good neighbors that night. Neighbors complained of mysterious groaning throughout the night. A few neighbors strongly urged us to settle down. I must say that I was overall impressed at the toleration of the camp. I half expected a torch bearing mob to appear. Or maybe people just thought it was passionate man-on-man action and didn't want to actually see it as hearing it was damaging enough.

DAY 1:

The next morning was crisp and cold, woke up to the sound of sizzling bacon. Rich was kind enough to cook anything in sight in the morning. His only rule, "I don't do dishes!". Fair enough. The first pilot's meeting was cool because I got to see all of the Hawaiian pilots from the other islands. It was nice seeing familiar faces amongst the unfamiliar. I got an idea of the personalities of the competitors there.

The ride up was very special to me. This was the first time that I have ever been driven "UP" to a launch site, aside from one sled ride from Ed Levin high launch in Cali. As we twisted up the narrow roads, I remember thinking that this will be my first taste of mountain-flying. Granted this is not the alps or the Rockies, but it's alot different that the coastal stuff I'm used to. The horror movie of my bus careening down the hill did not play out as we arrived at the top. Wow, nice view and what a huge launch! My cellphone works, woohoo! The windtechs were already skying-out. Everybody was excited. Programming the GPS was easy, writing down the task as a backup proved to be handy later on.

I really didn't get any butterflies, until standing in line. The first takeoff was a little nerve-wracking with all the pilots watching. Having those huge ski gloves did help either, but I managed to get-off without a problem. The camera man swung his camera under me as I lifted off and yelled "good-one!" Since I'm so used to taking off in lift, the sink alarm was disconcerting at the beginning. I felt sure that I was bombing out immediately. But sure enough I started to catch a little thermal here and there. I tended to stay away from the gaggles and find my own thermals. I was still getting used to my glider pitching every which way and didn't want to also worry about hitting someone. I could see that the start time was nearing, but I could only manage get to about mid to low altitude compared to everyone else. The only gliders I could recognize was Scrappy's, Bob's, Alex and Q's, Greg's and John Ivey's. I later learned to recognize Ray's. I could see some people over on Burnt ridge tanking up, but I was nowhere near high enough to make that crossing. I stayed close to mother launch and squeaked up.

My fears of collisions were not unwarranted. I saw John Ivey's glider shudder, collapse and he immediately threw his reserve. He took forever to sink out while thermalling under the reserve. I managed to extract my camera, but my gloves were too thick to press the tiny buttons. I finally flew out to some smooth air, removed a glove and snapped a hurried picture of John on silk. The race is getting more interesting. I'm doing this for fun right?

The start time came and went. The gaggles raced off on course and left the sky to me. I finally got enough altitude to head out to Rabies, but my GPS is acting up. Somehow my arrow is not pointing to where rabies should be. I try reloading the route, but end up activating the man-overboard mode. Anyway, I think that I finally sort out my nav points and hit Rabies and head back to the launch area. I tank up again and start to head towards goal. It's about a 14km leg down a valley. I try to stay over the ridges and milk the thermals, but I make a mistake and leave a thermal early. My mentor had told me to not worry about time and just worry about making it to goal. Don't pass up any available lift. Well the triggers I was betting on, were not pumping any thermals. I ended up landing in a field about 4 km away from goal. One unknown bonus to me was that I didn't realize that the competition counted your max distance on course. The end result was that I was only about 2km from goal as far as scoring was concerned. I was concerned about my landing because the valley winds were blowing dogs-off-chains and I thought that I was landing in a bit of a wind shadow. I expected some leeward rotor, but never got any. The retrieve came quickly and transported me to goal.

On the way to goal we saw a glider barely squeak it over to goal for what looked like a spin-landing near some trees. I would later learn that it was Jetflap! Brazilian Ray was at goal and I handed him a well deserved brewski. A keg at the goal, this is a very well thought out comp! Later we learn that the DZ was not fully coordinated. Landowner #1 didn't tell landowner #2,3,4,5,6... that he had authorized us to use the LZ. Oops. They later all agreed to let us land there in future, but no alcohol. That was the last time I went to that LZ! I went back to the HQ to get my hard 2.2 hours of flying scored only to find out I missed the first turn point. Duh! The track log on screen showed me going to a point, but it wasn't the correct point. I think it was the man-overboard point?? Still not completely sure to this day.

Anyway I get back to camp and the poker tent is in full swing. I was going to study for my exam, but who are we kidding? There was this young blonde sitting in the tent playing poker and doing well. I remember thinking that she could be no older than 21. I quickly learn that she's, well, less than that, alot less. This is probably the finest example of jailbait that I have ever seen. She had the looks(ie. good looks and great equipment) and the maturity of someone far older, very dangerous indeed. I could say more, but have to protect the innocent and the not so innocent.

DAY 2:

Pretty much the same task as day 1. Same story as the previous day except I made a huge error by forgetting that Rabies had a 2km turn-point cylinder vs the normal 400m. I spent over a hour try to close that distance. I finally realize that I had the turn point made and raced back to the launch area. By this time, I was clocking 4 hours flight time. It was getting really windy. The next leg of the race was 14km all into the wind. No way. So I just landed out in the normal LZ. At least I didn't miss any turn points and got some decent points.

DAY 3:

This task was a ball-busting 70km task. The launch was pretty windy. I thought they would cancel the task, but ended up curtailing the task down from the epic distance. The thermals were sharp and shredded. I made the mistake of following a thermal too far behind the ridge line and getting sucked into the valley between launch and burnt ridge. Had I been smarter about the wind direction I would have ran towards burnt ridge and try to get up. Instead I was in the middle of valley fearing rotor from both sides, on the speed bar trying to make an LZ and not end up in the trees. It was nerve-racking to be on speed bar in such turbulent air. I landed out safely in a huge field and was joined by about 12 more pilots to include Scrappy. This day was worth minimal points due to the short course and all or nothing nature of the task.

DAY 4:

"The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; 'tis dearness only that gives everything it's value." Thomas Paine.

It was another mega 72Km task. I blew my launch, it wouldn't be the last time. As usual, I didn't play in the gaggles and they consequently left me behind at start time. This time I wasn't too far behind. I got up high enough to start heading towards Rabies and caught some good stuff on the way out there. I saw Bob working some stuff around Rabies Peak and we more or less left Rabies at the the same time to head towards Wellington Ridge. I was a little higher and ahead of Bob en route to Wellington. While en route, I was trying to figure out where the lift was at Wellington by watching the other gliders in the area. Unfortunately everyone was in hunt mode and nothing was revealed. I was flying in a headwind and there was not a beep of lift the whole way. I knew I would arrive low and was prepared to bombout somewhere in the valley. This was the first time I was looking for a gaggle, I desperately wanted to find a gaggle.

I drove in towards the turn-point, tagged it and retreated back to the foothills. Now would come the hardest part of the whole comp. The distance from the turnpoint back to rabies ridge was about 5 miles and I had to work for every feet of it. Lot's of leeside thermals. I lost track of all the asym collapses, must have been over 30. Most of them were just 20-30% collapses, but a few were bigger. The thermals were really sharp and small. I was really using the gliders around me for lift cues. Everyone was taking collapses, you could hear the fabric whacking all around. I just hoped that no one would fall into my lap! Although the air was rough, I liked it because I knew I wouldn't bomb out, there was lift! Beggers can't be choosy! I would turn back for the rough stuff and bench up. Look down the line for the next glider going up and beeline over there. This is how I made it back to rabies ridge, back to familiar territory, back to my house thermals.

Scrappy had also made the difficult journey to Rabies, but we ended up on opposite sides of the ridge. He was in the bowl and I was outside. Instead of landing out inside the bowl, Scrappy performed a nice top landing on the ridge. I thought he would relaunch. He then broad casted his position and I relayed it to HQ/rescue. That fumbling with my radio got me really low and I decide to leave the ridge because the rotor/leeward thermals were kicking my butt. It's one thing to be a ridge height on the leeward side, but now I was pretty low. Besides, there was the main LZ right there for the taking. I ended up hooking a nice little thermal high enough to let me shoot for burnt ridge. I got over there, but couldn't find enough to get up, beside I was getting blown into the same valley like yesterday.

I decided that enough was enough and set myself up for a landing at the main LZ. Reaper was in the air with me with a tandem although I never saw him. There was another pilot in my same predicament also coming in for a landing. I was about 400 feet off the ground when I got some substantial beeps. This is before Bob let me borrow his vario. This whole time I was using my audio vario. The beeps represented about 400ft/min climb so I decided to turn in it just for the hell of it. It kept going up and up and up! It was super smooth and broad! The other glider didn't catch it/want it and went on to land. Reaper congratulated me on my catch. I used the altitude to run to the launch area. Now I had the wind on my side and I got high enough to make a proper run to Burnt ridge. I scratched around the ridge to get up for a little while, very nervous about getting sucked into the valley. I was completely alone at this point. Then I hit the convergence lift. Yeehaw! 1200ft/min. It was so smooth, but scary fast. I had to vasalva to clear my ears! It got cold quick. Up to about 8600'. Ruch looked very small at that altitude.

I'm now gazing upon the area where I pickup up Q and company at the very beginning. I'm grinning at the fact that a few minutes ago I was coming in to land and now I'm on top of the world...with cold hands. I've never been this high before (in a paraglider). I wuz smashin records left and right. My own records. The next couple of turnpoints came easily and now I'm heading towards the Poorman's turnpoint fairly low. I see a few gliders hunting for thermals as I arrive in area without any luck. I'm not catching much on the way to the turn point. I even deviate off course to a peak in hope that this trigger would be working but no luck. I was really low working some very weak stuff. This was a right turn day and I was turning left due to the lack of traffic and personal preference. I saw another glider head towards my thermal so I switched to a right turn and lost it! Damn! To rub salt in the wound, the other glider just flew straight through my thermal and didn't even turn in it! He just went straight to the ridge, in the lee, and...started to go up! Then it dawned on me that this is the other side of burnt ridge! If I can make it to the ridge top I can catch the converge again. Well I'm super low and in the lee, I fly down the length of the ridge to the end where it peters down to the valley. I finally get on top the ridge and work a few light thermals.

Then pow! Convergence again and I sky out again. I even out climb the other guy. I'm now high enough to hit the Cemetery turn-point and then some. Cemetery comes and goes (never saw the actual cemetery) and I switch to my "home-stretch" mode that Ray taught me. (Compass screen with glide-ratio to goal). I'm looking for the magic 7:1 glide ratio to goal that would assure me of goal. Right now it's about 10:1, gotta work it down. I manage to find some weak stuff along the route. I have no idea where Donatos is even though I've been driven there before. It's looks a lot different from the air. I have a nice tailwind to help out, about 55-65 km/hr ground speed! I finally get the magic 7:1 and start to beeline it to the goal, passing up niblets of lift. Then I realize that there is a ridge in front of goal that need to be cleared. Crap, I just passed up some good lift. I hope I find more! I guess that if I can get that ratio to 4:1 I'll clear the ridge and leeward rotor. Luckly I find plenty of lift. I can see two other gliders. One is ahead and is working the ridge to get up and over (did he forget the about the ridge?). And there's another glider to my right about equal distance to the goal. Race time! I have to beat the other glider! Now I have the magical 4:1. Turn to goal and punch it! I get into an aerodynamic posture and go full speedbar. The air is fairly stable and I'm poised to immediately release if I feel any bumps. The glider in front of me had successfully made it over the ridge and shows me the goal!

LZ visual now, I get butterflies realizing that I'm going to make my first goal. All the work and luck that played out to get to this moment is indescribable. I got the other glider beat and I cruise through the goal cylinder with tons of altitude. I can see all the pilots already on the ground. I'm wondering if there's any beer left, there's an awful lot of pilots down there and I can see them pumping the keg even from up here. My hands are frozen so I take my time getting down. However thoughts of the beer running out results in a B-line stall to get on the ground now!

Once on the ground, I'm given a hero's welcome by the Hawaii crew. My mentor, Pine, is beaming approvingly. Bob and Ray even fold my wing for me. Wow, what a reception! I certainly felt like a different person that day after that ordeal. Then I find out that I'm the only Hawaiian pilot to make goal that day, it made it even sweeter. Needless to say, I didn't feel like studying that night. That same day, a pilot took a bad collapse down low near the area I was scratching in at Poormans. We went to the crash scene and collected his equipment. Again, no reserve deployment, too low? Luckly he survived with a few fractures.

DAY 5:

I get recognized at the pilot's meeting for my virgin goal and even get ranked in the serial class. Cool. We drive up to launch and it's windy again. The common strategy is to launch early before it gets too windy. I launch (badly) and can barely gain any altitude in the shreaded thermals. This time I'm willing to play around in the gaggles more. The start time comes and goes and some gliders take off on course. Some of the top pilots report back that conditions are 2-3 to 3. They end up canceling the task in mid-task. I see that Alex and Q had landed near the vineyard and figured that I had enough altitude to make it. I had orginally thought that I would make the main vineyard LZ, but the headwind was vicious. I stand on the speedbar. I had to land short where Ray and Q landed. The land owner was super nice and offered us a ride to the vineyard. We tested the suspension of the old car to the max. The vineyard was open for business and we were ready to give it a nice bump in revenue. It was one of the nicest times I had in the comp. It was like a typical Hawaiian LZ party, but classier.

DAY 6:

My name was called again during the pilot's meeting, but this time it was Hawaii getting scolded for not signing in immediately. The meet director gave us all a 10% penalty for the task. That really hurt the 0 points we all got for that day. Message was received however. Today, you either made it to goal or you bombed out right away. I fell in the latter category. I think this is also the day that Irene fell out of the sky and luckily into some trees. No reserve deployment.

DAY 7:

Last day. Goal is at Donatos again. Still windy, but not as bad as before. The trick was getting to Burnt ridge, if you could hit the convergence, you made it. I made the convergence again, but this time it was a little rougher. The air was way colder too. My hands were in trouble! Another nice memory is catching up to Ray and coring together. We were close enough to shout. It was awesome hooking that thermel with a friend in a far away land... Ray soon outpaced me to goal. Bob also made it to goal, his first! I'm sure he has a story to tell.

I'm now in a rush to pack up camp and drive to Portland to catch a flight. Everyone else is in a hurry to get to nationals. I'm trying to leave a day early in order to get back and manage my huge project (which went great by the way). Joey decides to come with me to do the same thing in order to visit his family a day early. We pack up and say our goodbyes and unfortunately miss the awards party. We finally arrive in Portland late that night and spend an epic 2 hours looking for a freaking room. Joey and I are remarkable patient and calm throughout the whole affair. Everything was booked due to multiple conventions. The hotels were telling us that you have to go 40 miles away to find vacancy. Now its getting super late and I'm not liking the idea of spending $150 to sleep 4 hours. So we grudgingly check into a motel. I prefer the tents! Hard to fall asleep with the intermittant police sirens in the background. I catch my flight and Joey takes the car to Seattle which saves me the drop-off fee.

This is definitely my longest article, but that's my Rat Race story and I'm sticking to it!

Nick

(some of the pictures, I stole from windlines, especially from Scrappy)

What a Trip...

"Wherever you go, there you are", seems to be the story of my life. Another summer chasing the wind and road tripping and hanging out with friends. This was was my second year of the Rat Race with the Hawaiians and it was exciting and fun as was last years.

This year we brought along with us my two newest students Joey & Rich. I made them no promises of flying as the Rat Race can be windy and strong and is sometimes no place for beginners and maybe even PG's altogether.

With much enthusiasm, Joey, Rich, Nick, and I all flew together to Seattle. The weather looked awesome. We stopped at Paul's to get geared up for camping. After the 1st night of Para-boozing we figured we better lay low after keeping up all the other pilots.

Joey, Rich, Paul, and I volunteered to be drivers and launch crew for the Rat race. While Joey and Rich drove a few days, they also learned alot about thermal flying and high altitude launching from watching the comp pilots. Boy, did they learn alot...

Day three we decided it was time to turn them loose on the lower launch. Both learned to forward launch, and had nice morning flights into a rather large (20 acre) LZ. Day five we had them launch off the high launch, and they had they're 1st high altitude thermal flights, and on day six, we launched them a bit later into some sweet thermals where they got above launch and thermaled for at least an hour with some wind Tech's. It was now 15 minutes prior to the opening for the comp, and all the 100 + comp pilots were eager to join to the new guys in there sweet thermals too. So, based on their experience level I figured for safety they better land before they were bumper cars in the thermals. It was awesome for them and they're nervous but proud instructor.

My job at both the Rat Race & the US Nationals was to chase the severely lost and possibly injured pilots. Both required alot of communication skills and good GPS tracking. I was really happy doing the job. It was some great 4X4 action, and also a bit of a challenge. I'm planning on doing it again next year.

After the Nationals at Lakeview I was looking to run away from the wind and head North for some new adventure's, so I headed to Bend, Oregon to see our old friend's Troy and Carrie.

Motorhead Paul stayed behind for the Lakeview 4th of July Fly-in and ended up with some great flying that week to wind up winning the PG Cumulative XC 1st Place award. Good Job Paul.

George, Diana (Aspen, Colo), and I caravaned they whole way together thru the high desert and I saw some amazing ruins and Indian country. We arrived at Pine mountain the next day and didn't fly until Glass-off due to the super strong conditions and high winds during the day. Glass-off was epic with Troy beating me up kiting to launch thru the Sage brush.

The next day, Troy took us to Mt. Bachelor above Bend and we hiked a bit above the Gondola 1/2 way up the mountain. Too bad we didn't hike to the top? The wind was forecast for light Northeast and we had strong Southwest. Ugh! We hiked down to the beer and hotdogs at the gondola. That night Diana and I camped at a beautiful lake in the mountains.

I decided that I needed a welcome break from the wind so I headed to my cabin in Pemberton, BC 9 hours away. Long drive and no traffic due to the fact it was the 4th of July. Everybody was already partying and in Canada it wasn't a holiday. Canada Day is July 1st.

The next day I awoke in my cabin at Lillooet Lake to find the most beautiful morning. Sunny and hot and no wind. I headed for luanch to find everyone getting great flights over launch, but soon it baked out and we decided to get some beer and head for Mosquito spring lake. You can swim in cool drinkable water.

The next day was perfect for beginners all morning with light thermals, no wind, and easy launches. I helped land the students, and then we went up to get our butts kicked. I launched my new Airwave Sport III into some very strong thermal conditions. Now understand my bump tolerance at this point is low, so I took it easy. After some minor seat adjustments I was off into some epic late afternoon climbs of 1400 fpm and sink of the same. Didn't get high, but I did fly for two hours in bullet conditions and managed a perfect top landing to retrive my Bronco.

The next day I installed a new skylight in my kitchen, went fishing in my boat and caught a 3 lb Rainbow trout, then joined the gang for some unbelievable glass-off again. This time we flew 20km downrange into a light West wind and I was able to get to 8,500 agl and fly back in '0' sink conditions to top crash into the bushes on launch (pics later).

After receiving so many calls from Hawaii to go home now, I reluctantly left Pembie and flew home to the lovely (not) weather. Still wishing for more thermal action, I'm planning to head back to BC in August to fly and work on the cabin some more. All are welcome to join me for some more epic flying, fishing, and relaxing on the lakes? The house is only 2 hours from Vancouver and 1/2 hour from Whistler.

It was an awesome trip - again...

Pete "Reaper" Michelmore

It's about - Time

After much procrastination - or too much flying time - it's about time to try and write an article - just a short story of Sunday July 8th impromptu gathering of a number of pilots at Kahana Bay for some great flying. Sorry I don't have the gift of colorful grammatics like Frank. The flyers I remember - Billy, Christine, Claude (Scrappy), Eric (Mililani), Eric (Sharky), Ginny, Hillbilly, Jeff (Stalker), Jim (me, one-eye), Joey (P3), Ken (Airborne), Pete (Rehab, UNITY, Suicide), Scot (red-head), Steve, & visitor (Eric from Portland I think). Peruvian Phil was doing some kiting on the beach LZ too.

The morning started out a little ratty with Steve (high normal launch) and Eric (Mililani) (North ridge) getting off almost simultaneously and making it look easy to get up. Although later Eric said he barely made it off launch in a light cycle, we couldn't tell from our perspective. Shortly after Hillbilly took off in a light cycle from normal high launch and seemed to be struggling just to stay level with launch height. The wind seemed to die off after Hillbilly took off leaving Ginny, Joey, and me hanging on the high launch. Both Steve and Eric were reporting some bumpy air. Hillbilly tried jumping over to the north ridge and shortly made a nice top landing over there to wait for some better wind. Unfortunately Hillbilly got called in to work before the wind came up again.

In the meantime Eric and Steve both got tired of getting bounced around and headed in to land. They both had what they described as their "worst LZ" conditions ever on approach and landing. Christine & Billy showed up to wait out the wind with us.

An hour or so later the wind finally was coming back and I got to be the wind technician for the second round. Joey (highest flight yet 2400 AGL), Billy and Christine all followed me off after a bit (not sure of launch order for them though). A bit later Scrappy helped Billy (nice belly draggin') and Christine off. This was the main group I flew with for a couple hours, the conditions seemed to get better as the day wore on - just goes to show the early bird doesn't always get the best flying conditions. I called it quits to go pursue other amusements (do I hear that Beer calling me).

Pete got off high launch all by himself after fighting some nasty line impediments. Scot led a trio helping out Eric (Sharky) - great to see you in the air man - and the visitor, then launched himself. Scot then went on a downranger to Pounders all by himself. Airborne Ken made a surprise appearance while there were still a bunch of people flying - incoming special ops. As usual Ken came and went without saying much to anyone (at least that I observed). And last off the hill Jeff (Stalker) who made a late show to hang with his wife and nephew. Joey and I also visited with some hikers who were way up on KNA ridge - you can just make them out in the blown up pic below.

Not much of a story - better than none though I guess.

Presidential Summit in the Blue Ridge Mountains

After a week of humidity and thunderstorms, Friday dawned with clear skies. Sandy had come out earlier in the week but didn't get a chance to fly here. I knew from the website that the guys had talked about skipping work early on Friday and heading out for some afternoon ridge soaring. I hustled out there by 2:30 or so, thinking I was late, but the wind was actually too strong, and we waited for a couple of hours watching the hangies sky out to cloudbase.

Finally the wind backed off to a nice level, and the five of us launched for a prolonged session of sweet ridge lift, sprinkled with fat and gentle thermals. By the end of our two hour flight the whole valley was lifting off, and we could just boat around high above the lazy curls of the Shenandoah River in the fading light. Thanks to Hugh, Charlie, Laszlo, Tom and Jim for getting me back into the air in my old home state. And thanks to President Hugh for the post flight refreshment and the ride up to my car.

Keyhole Suck

This “Lesson Learned” story really starts before I ever got on the plane bound for Hawaii. While packing I made the decision to take my very first wing, a paratech 43, medium DHV1-2 wing, (P43). I’d not flown the wing in over two years, not counting the two short sled rides from a California training hill just over thirty days ago.

Arriving on island late Thursday night, the next two days had already been planned out for me by my wife, Emmy. Working with a realtor and making and offer on a Hawaii Kai home took most of Friday and Saturday. The winds did look strong and Saturday afternoon found me at Koaloa Beach kiting the paratech. Winds on the beach were around 13-14 mph. So I didn’t even think about heading out for a flight. The P43 was a handfull kiting and getting it up and over head was a dragging experience compared to the poison, (FIRST WAKE-UP CALL). So I made plans for a flight on Sunday the 1st of July.

I read on windlines on Sunday that others were heading out, One-Eye Jim, Steve and others so my wife departed for a fun filled day of beach and flying.

As we all do, Emmy and I watched the wind signs during the drive out, indicating that is was going to be a good day, definetely not too light. After parking I thought that it might be too strong but the three wings in the air over me continued to push me forward further rushing my risk analysis of the up-coming flight. Hiking up I see Airborne’s car and I attempt to contact him on the radio. Having no luck I think he is not about to break radio silence or maybe he will conduct a radio check after laying out. Hiking up I can feel the wind before I ever break out of the trees and I confirm my belief that low launch is the place to go. After resting for about ten minutes, taking wind readings, drinking water and catching my breath, Nick arrives and we discuss the situation. It is funny how you hear the voices of those you have flown with so many times. Airborne, in my head, “a little strong, but it is cycling, wait for a low cycle, launch and it will be OK.” Alex, “Direction is good, a few white caps, cloud movement, if you believe it is too strong and hike down, GOOD CALL.” Nick tells me this is a little strong and I agree but the cycles look good. Nick then elects, after we witness Airborne’s flawless take-off from high launch, to go next. A perfect and taunting take-off by Nick, I’m ready even if the winds are gusting to 16-18, I know it will be dicey in the P43 but I’ve flown in worse off of cactus in this wing. Funny how we rationalize?

I lay out and elect not to hook up my helmet cam since the wing is a handfull, holding the C’s and brakes with a death grip.

I now wait for a low cycle and pull up, a little dip to the right but A’s & C’s are working, I turn and burn and immediately go straight up, no forward movement and then aft and to the west of the low launch spine. I immediately apply speed bar hoping for no frontal since it is twitchy. (SECOND WAKE-UP CALL) I make it out front of launch and “a note to self” fly farther out than normally comfortable. I not getting altitude but I’m still parked and making little forward movement. Other pilots now confirm my suspicions by telling us that the wind is now stronger than just thirty minutes before.

Once aloft I find a quiet spot to hook up my helmet cam and now I try to get as close as I can to the radio silent “Airborne”. I get some video and digital pics and then enjoy my docile P43 thinking its amazing that the flying characteristic differs so drastically compared to the poison. Later I’m reminded of this by my wife’s comment, “I could tell it was you up there because your white wing was fatter and larger than all the rest.” (Additional WAKE-UP CALL).

I watch as all five pilots land, getting bumped around low on their approach to the LZ (THIRD & FINAL WAKE-UP CALL). Airborne and Nick did the smart thing and stay out front over the water and maneuver into excellent landings dead on target. (I didn’t notice the approach patterns of the previous three).

I elect to loose altitude well out front of the boat launch and I have the wisdom to think, “no way am I going to soar the trees, might get pushed back over them in this slow wing.” But as I continue my approach to the wind streamer, from which Nick was filming me, I loose myself to familiarity and over-confidence and begin my typical little turn into the key-hole that with my poison always provides a nice low fast glide to the wind streamer. Emmy was also on the beach shouting, “looking good.” As the video shows, when I make my turn to final, I suddenly realize that I’m not penetrating, I’ve already rotated in my harness, lowering my landing gear and I struggle for my speed bar. All the time I can see my aft movement taking me closer to some bad obstacles, like concrete/bridge, traffic, electrical lines and water on the other side. I’m now thinking, “I’ve got to kill this wing and big-ears ain’t gonna do it in time.” So I spiral/spin the wing in, probably easier than a total stall from at least 30 feet above the ground but I open the floor to those more experienced in offering solutions after having gotten myself so far into an almost hopeless situation. Events happen quickly from here on out. I hit the ground hard, less than a foot from the concrete pillor and I have to mute the audio on the video to protect those with sensitive ears. Only my wife and daughter know what I said. But it is funny in a situation like this, pilots fly the wing to the ground, I remember as with other previous hard hits that, “this is going to hurt.” But never being afraid.

After I hit the ground and I know I’m ok, my wing is on the road and I feel like the coyote on the “Road Runner Show”. I survived the crash and now my wing is going to be picked up by a passing car and I’ll be pulled up and over the bridge and drug to my death. Luckily, the fast thinking of Steve, running up and stopping cars and retrieving my wing and Suicide Pete getting me out of my harness, I was feeling and doing great.

My wife of 27 years witnessed it all. She never bought my story that I was totally ok. As a licensed mental health councelor she can easily see through your soul. The event never really bothered me until after I watched the video for the third or fourth time, then I realize just how lucky I was. (OK, I know I’m a little slow on the uptake). The whole crash sequence was like a guadian angel pushed me down in soft sand less than one foot from concrete. Now being the third day I wish the angel had not pushed so hard, my whole right side from my hip to my neck is black and blue and sore. I’m only kidding about not pushing so hard. I realize that I could have been at Tripler Medical Hospital in a coma with ventilator rather than enjoying Alan Jackson and fireworks at the Bay Fest that night with my family.

Thanks to Dr. Pete, Steve and everyone else that helped me out, what a GREAT group we have in Hawaii. I called Airborne and he never knew that I, chopperdave, his old flying buddy was ever there. His first thoughts when seeing my old P43 / white wing was that of a visiting pilot about to get into trouble after being pushed back of launch.

Lessons Learned:

1. Always listen to the signs from beginning to end and digest them. From my computer that morning to arriving on launch to folding up your wing. I listened but didn’t really comprehend and process what I was hearing.

2. We always are aware of the risks of moving from a slow wing to a fast wing. But we need to be equally aware of the risks from going the other way, the habits that we have developed and the flight performance we have grown to expect.

3. Don’t confuse experience with proficiency.

But always remember, even as close as we get to death in this sport, it still beats sitting on the couch saying, “I shoulda, coulda or woulda”

To all the pilots out there, my hat is off to you for conquering the intimidation that we all feel hiking up and enjoying the jubilation of soaring that we all share.”

-ChopperDave

Click HERE for the full size Video

2007 Oregon Competition Wrap-up

I guess there hasn't been any good flying on Oahu for the last month, since no one has posted an article or a picture anywhere but the chatter box. Either that or you guys all have writer's block. Maybe I can clear the creative logjam by posting a final report of our adventures at the Oregon competitions over the last two weeks.

During the last two weeks of June, a record number of Hawaii pilots attended two consecutive annual cross country competitions in Oregon, the Rat Race and the US Paragliding Nationals. This was Hawaii's biggest competition trip ever by any measure, with 13 competitors, 6 volunteers, and some free flyers and Hawaii expatriates joining the fun. This time we definitely supplied enough monkeys for the thermal research team to find cloudbase. We did better than that: we had 10 pilots into goal for their first time, and numerous personal bests in distance and altitude. The only thing missing was Doug! Our top-ranked competition pilot was holding out for the Chelan XC Classic, which is taking place right now. Fly high, far, and fast, Doug!

The weather for both comps was mostly cloudless and clear, but also a bit on the windy and high pressure side. We flew all seven days at the Rat Race, although one task was cancelled mid-flight due to strong winds. The Nationals were even windier, and three days were too windy to even call a task. Two of our three task days saw fairly brisk winds at launch, and we all got a lot of practice flying shredded thermals, in a crowded start gaggle, low over terrain. The last day about half of us launched into a very turbulent gaggle soup, but the task was cancelled shortly after it began due to the strong wind and rough conditions. So for those of us who went to both meets, we had a total of nine valid tasks, and eleven flying days out of fourteen. That's a lot of thermaling for Hawaii pilots!

Cross country flying is certainly not for everyone, nor does the pressure of a competition environment appeal to all pilots. But for those pilots who want to improve our cross country skills, a good competition can teach us more in a week than we might learn all year in Hawaii (that is, unless we're talking about Doug). We don't get too many good thermal days here on Oahu, and even when we do, we rarely feel compelled to push ourselves to cover much distance, or to land in unfamiliar spots. But a cross country competition gives us a chance to push ourselves beyond our comfort zones in a relatively controlled manner, with a team of expert pilots helping us analyze and judge the flying conditions, and designing tasks that will lead us into places we might not otherwise choose to fly. Not to mention landing short in some spot you never would have picked on purpose. Paul Murdoch put it something like this: when we're free flying we usually just try to find the best possible air to fly in - but in a competition we have to fly in any air that will take us down the task line. And in the process you will get to make friends with and fly with some of the best pilots from around the country and the world.

Hawaii has a long history of sending our pilots off to mainland competitions (or at least we try to send Doug). Here is the list of our comp visits as far as I can remember it - please correct me if you notice any mistakes.

1999	Doug, Reaper, Mad Dog, BJ, Nalu and Duane compete in US Nationals in Aspen
2001	Doug and Nalu compete in US Nationals in Chelan
2002	Doug competes in Snowbird XC Competition
2003	Doug and Quentin compete in US Nationals in Owens Valley
2004	Doug competes in US Nationals in Telluride Doug competes in Monarca XC Open in Mexico
2005	Doug and Bob compete in US Nationals in Chelan
2006	Doug competes in XC Open in Manila, Australia Ray, Greg, Sandy, Jetflap, Bob, Don, Peter and Alex compete in Rat Race

One essential component of any good competition is a huge volunteer effort. This year we had lots of Hawaii folks helping out as volunteers at the Rat Race and Nationals. Pete was the extreme retrieve black ops commander, and Cheree worked hard as retrieve driver as well. Pete also helped with launching at the Rat Race, as did Hadija from Maui. Chris from Maui helped with the sign in sheets at the Rat Race. Thanks to all of the volunteers for helping making both events so fun and safe.

While we're feeling grateful, we should definitely say thanks to the Haleys and Kevin Biernacki for organizing such excellent meets. A huge thank you also goes to Paul, Whitney, Sy, Madison, and Hailey, gracious hosts to four very fortunate Hawaii pilots during the Rat Race. And finally, our deep gratitude must also extend to the Longsword Vineyard and the Deschutes Brewing Company for the healthful and restorative powers of their magical elixirs. I'm guessing that both companies will see a mysterious surge in revenues for the last two weeks of June.

For the day by day reports, see our dedicated Monkeys in Oregon website.