Last Tuesday I achieved a life goal.......made silver distance (Turners Falls) and back. Didnt declare the flight, but still just as happy!
Mike Pitoniak
The expected Arizona weather finally arrived! I took a look out the window on Friday morning and saw cumulus forming in the mountains to the north - flying with clouds is such a rare and pleasurable experience that I dropped work and headed for the gliderport. I rigged S4 and filled her with about 40 gallons of water and was ready for takeoff in record time. I couldn't decide what sort of a task to fly, but remembered my 500KM episode of the previous year. On the last day of the contest the CD called the "Arnd Special" task which combined the normal race with a diamond flight; I flew the task and handed in the paperwork for 3 badge legs - 300KM goal, 500KM distance and 300KM distance. After a few weeks Arleen Coleson (the Badge Lady) got back to me, with tears in her voice she told me that she had to decline all of the badges that I had applied for as I had used contest cylinders instead of sectors at the turnpoints; at least she did give me a silver badge because I had a fix within one of the turnpoints. So, in remembrance of this flight I decided to fly the same task again, this time correctly. I declared Turf - Seligman (111sm) - Salome (115.52) - Turf (78.75) and got a good start over the line and headed off for the distant clouds over the mountains to the north. I got a good thermal after the start and soon made it to the mountains and the wonderful 5-10 knot lift underneath the clouds. I flew conservatively along the cloud streets that seemed to lead directly to the first turnpoint; the cloudbase was at 14500msl (the terrain up north is between 5000 and 8000msl) and I spent most of the flight dolphining between 12 and 14. From the Seligman turnpoint I saw the beautiful north rim of the Grand Canyon only 30 miles in the distance and determined to fly there sometime soon. Since I had taken my time on the initial leg I got to Salome rather late in the day and there was not a single cloud to be seen. I turned back the McReady but still remained 1500 feet below a final glide from 60nm out. Normally this would be no problem but the air had become very still with not a single bump and I knew that I would be landing at least 10 miles short unless something completely unexpected happened. The unexpected event was a thermal over a watering hole in the desert - a location I'd used as a thermal trigger several times before and that I overflew mainly because it was on a direct path to the nearest airport. At first it was only a 1 knot thermal but with altitude it strengthened to about 5 and gave me all the altitude I needed for a fast final glide. I downloaded the trace the next morning and started out on the paperwork only to discover, much to my chagrin, that I had only declared a 492km task which doesn't quite meet the requirements!
Saturday and Sunday were ASA Race days and promised even better weather. Saturday's task was Turf - Williams (103sm) - Wickenburg (98) - Turf (34) and I headed ahead of the pack and encountered some virga over the hills and spent close to an hour getting out of "jail" over Cordes (where I had landed out on a road a couple of weeks ago) and I dumped most of my water. After I got back to cloud base the task went much better, but just as I was approaching a 5-knot McReady final glide at 76nm out I heard the first contestant call "GY 4 miles out" and knew that my time was going to be bad. It was, I placed last for Saturday.
Sunday was even better and the task was Turf - Paulden (77sm) - Montezuma (39) - Hillside (61) - Black Canyon City (50) - Turf (20). I made no major mistakes this time around and this was my most interesting flight to date. >From Paulden I could see the Rim again, then the leg to Montezuma took me past Sedona and those wonderful rock formations. The cloudbase was about 17700 feet and I tried a pullup on the outer edge of the clouds to get to 17999 but it didn't work, my highest point was 17800. There were pockets of 12-14 knots net lift and life was wonderful. There was a 60 mile stretch of cloudless countryside to conquer, but I took a gamble at Mingus Mountain (7800) and was sure that I would find something. I was only about 200 feet above the top when I got there but the lift did manifest itself in the form of a strong 3 knotter which increased in strength until it petered off at 16000 feet. That was the only low point and I finished the task with an average speed of about 80 knots; but I think that some of the others beat me by over a half hour.
It's nice to get spoiled by good conditions, especially as this spring has not been a good one out here, and from what I gather Mass hasn't seen great weather, either.
Ciao,
-Arnd.
Weather's getting warmer; leave latching the canopy for last. Whoops, forgot to latch it, maybe I spend the rest of the season building a new canopy? No, somehow it survived flying off the glider during the takeoff roll, with hardly a scratch. Is this a good omen, or a bad one? Push back the glider, check everything very carefully. No damage anywhere. Bird Dog has been idling patiently. Try again...
We enter a thermal just west of the airport at 1800, and Ritts keeps the Bird Dog in it up to 3000. I release and keep the Laister in it up to 8300. Note that the best lift was from 4000 to 7300, averaging about 8 knots. OK, start toward the good-looking clouds around Fitchburg. There, to nearly 9000. The wind seems as forecast, about 20 knots from 310. Off toward Hawthorne, for an out-and-back I've been planning on for about a year.
Strange but delightful: I've been aiming generally toward Hawthorne (can't see it yet), but drifting east a bit to take advantage of a line of very nice looking clouds. I've been trying to ignore lift of less than 8 knots. Every time I get down to 7300, I stumble into 8+ knot lift, and feel obliged to climb to 9000. (Cloudbases look to be around 9500). I've been exiting the thermals, which are still over 8 knots at 9000, by diving at 75 mph through the surrounding sink, and holding 70 mph until the next thermal... which always seems to be as I hit 7300.
Well, there's Hawthorne... but I've only been up an hour! I thought it would take over 2... wow, you really can fly fast between thermals! But now I have all this extra time to play with... dare I throw out the plan, and go for my vague dream flight of Plymouth and back? Why not, I'm closer to Plymouth now than Sterling... but there's such a thing as over-reaching... but it's only physically a little after noon...
I dither my way down to 5000. Hey, smart guy, find some lift or you'll be sitting at Hawthorne trying to figure out how to get home. Well, If I Lived Here I'd Be Thermalling Now. More to the point, if I were soaring from Hawthorne regularly, I'd only be taking 3k tows, so up at 5000 I have plenty of altitude to use to find a thermal, right? Sure enough, I find a boomer that pins that averager; from 4500 to 9500 in a little over 3 minutes. Plymouth, here I come.
Over Henniker, down to 7500 or so, blunder into nice lift, up I go again. Dizzy Dean once advised "Never look back, something may be gaining on you". Looking south as I thermal, the sky appears to fuzz out south of Jaffrey. What's up with this - I can't see any clouds back there. Some evil ocean effect? Think. I can glide from here to Plymouth. Can't go on to Franconia, from which I can get a ride home, because the field is still too soft to land on. Sky is still good until Jaffrey. If I get there at 9000, I can glide back to Sterling easily. I better go back while I still can.
WRONG! Inexperience reared its ugly head; I had never tried to see the sky that far away before. Clouds, sun, and my altitude combined to make it impossible. If I had simply looked at the ground to the south, I would have seen cloud shadows continuing indefinitely; the conditions were fine.
All of which I deduced when I got to Jaffrey.
Well, at least I made good use of the remaining time... I'd never seen Keene before, so went there... dodged a big Coast Guard twin that would have hit me if I hadn't Seen And Avoided... then back to Gardner... then 110 mph back to Sterling just because I could... then landed and found out 300km and 500km flights had been made while I covered less than 200km.
See you next time, Plymouth!
- Gary H
I had been considering a 500K flight all spring.
I studied sectionals, and established what appeared to be two reasonable 500K tasks. The preferred task was a triangle from Sterling to North Adams up to Phillips Field, (a small airport turned cow pasture eight miles north of Sugarbush) and back to Sterling. This task is a bit less than 507 kilometers, and presents the positive benefits of running north along the Berkshires/Green Mountains from North Adams all the way to Phillips Field, with a likely downwind run home. Nice scenery would be an added incentive. The second, somewhat more mundane quadrilateral course, while slightly longer at 520 kilometers, would keep me closer to home. This would be far more convenient if a land out and retrieve became necessary.
May 13th I started to get the impression that the 16th and 17th would be very good soaring days. Monday, the 15th, I told my boss not to expect me Tuesday, as the forecast looked really good. Fortunately, Arthur, who has been tolerating my flying escapades for more years than either of us might care to admit, shrugged his shoulders and suggested I avoid golf courses if possible.
Monday night all the forecasts looked positive, except for the mention of cirrus moving in from the west during the day. This possibility led me to keep the quadrilateral option in mind, although I still preferred the notion of the Sterling, North Adams, Phillips Field, Sterling triangle. Monday night, Gerry Bell promised to come retrieve me if necessary either by air or on the ground. No more excuses.
Tuesday morning I left the house at 7:30. There was dew on the grass, which I took to be a good sign. After a quick breakfast, I headed out towards Sterling, noting with anticipation that there were a few wisps of cumulus clouds popping off as I arrived at the airport at 8:45. Rick Roelke was already there, preparing for his 300 K attempt. I assembled my glider, and loaded the GPS with a database including turn points, airports, and both 500K tasks. While filling the glider with water ballast, the leading edge of the forecast cirrus appeared on the northwestern horizon. By the time I had towed the glider to the launch line, I reluctantly concluded that the quadrilateral task was the correct choice for the day, as it would minimize exposure to the cirrus. Time to make the declaration in the GPS flight recorder, and wait for a tow.
Rick was first in line. He towed, released, went through the start gate, and headed out on task fairly quickly.
I wait somewhat impatiently for the two intervening tows to take place, and launch. Ritts tows me through a good thermal at 1400 ft, and then turns back through it. Off tow at about 2100 feet AGL, I flounder around in the thermal about a mile west of the airport. This was my first flight of the year with water, and I'm relearning how to fly the glider with ballast. Climb to about 4500 ft MSL, and fly a downwind for the start gate, passing through a strong thermal. A somewhat sloppy turn and dive through the gate, followed by a climb to 6500 ft in the thermal just flown through, and the task is started.
I head north towards Claremont. Initially, the thermals are weakening at 6500 ft, but I hang on to about 7000 ft MSL. At this point climbs are averaging 6-7 knots to 6.5K, falling off to about 5 knots higher. This tactic makes for a slower than desired trip north. I gradually catch up with Rick, who quite annoyingly keeps reporting altitudes higher than mine, and locations north of me. We are even about 20 miles south of Claremont, and I gradually pull ahead from there. Water ballast has its advantages. The run to Claremont takes about 1.5 hours; too slow if the task is to be completed. There is just a bit of thin cirrus at this point, and the lift continues to strengthen.
Turning towards Southbridge 77.5 NM south, I set a goal of completing the leg in 1 hour. The trip south goes better. I leave thermals at 6.5K to 8.0K depending on their strength, and push down as low as 4K before getting worried about finding lift. Thermal strength is increasing as the trip progresses south, with extended periods of better than nine knots up in the thermals. I turn Southbridge 1 hour and 11 minutes after leaving Claremont. The probability of success seems better now. I set a goal of reaching Springfield by 3:50, hoping for a 1:15 leg. Running north, the task seems easy as far as Keene.
North of Keene, the cirrus is getting thick, and the thermals are getting soft. Proceeding more cautiously, taking weaker thermals, I debate the merits of pushing hard into Springfield, versus trying to stay high going slower. I decide on the high and slow approach and get to Springfield, about 4:05. It is pretty dark around here. The cirrus is pretty thick. There are two nice looking clouds about three miles northwest of the turn point, so I push on hoping to get lift under them. I pull under the first cloud, 1500 ft below the base, turn up wind, find nothing, and watch in dismay, as this cloud, and the other good looking cloud both dissipate.
The cirrus is not particularly uniform and I start working back towards Keene, by way of any bright spots on the ground. My computer tells me I am alternately above and below final glide to Keene as I scrap for lift. Five miles northwest of Bellows Falls, the flight computer claims that Keene is reachable. I head out on a direct course towards Keene.
The air is very smooth. This doesn't feel good at all. Over Bellows Falls, my computer cheerfully shows me below final glide to Keene. Below 3000 ft (MSL), on the east bank of the Connecticut River, 3 miles south of Bellows Falls, there is a "used to be" airport. It looks appealing, but the plowed fields nearby look even better, though they will require a ground retrieve for sure. The air is still smooth, but the cirrus has thinned, and there is sunlight shining on the fields. Still descending, I sniff around between the plowed fields and the ridges to the east and find some zero sink, then three knot down.
About 1900ft AGL, open the dump valves, to get rid of the water ballast. Turning, the variometer indicates up a knot, then down a half, depending on where I am in the circle. Close the valves, with most of the water still on board. Well below final glide for Keene, I continue to work the weak lift, figuring that the longer the sun has to heat the ground through the thinning cirrus, the better off my chances. The thermal gradually increases in strength. Going up at 4 knots, I consider heading for Keene and the thinner cirrus there, but 4 knots is pretty good. Tired, and struggling to center the lift, I break the rule and change directions, core the thermal and climb at 6 knots to 8K, close to final glide to Sterling.
Having assumed a land out in Alstad, I am hesitant to believe the task will be completed. I bump along towards Keene, pulling up in lift, speeding up in sink. I take a few turns in a thermal near Keene, and press on. The computer claims a 1400 ft altitude surplus; this should be more than enough. I fly straight towards Sterling, changing course only slightly to pass on the up wind side of clouds along the route. At Winchendon, I have 1100 ft surplus, and Sterling is in sight. Crossing Route 2 eleven miles out, I have 800 ft more altitude than needed. I start to believe I will complete the task. A few minutes later I fly through the gate and Rick calls on the radio with a "welcome home". I open the dump valves, releasing the rest of my ballast, and surprise myself flying through the wake and the water in it. It's really nice to be home, after being resigned to a land out 50 minutes ago.
The landing is uneventful, if not the best. I fumbled around more than usual, pulling up to the trailer, and disassembling the glider. I am fortunate that Rick has waited for me. On the drive home I call Gerry to tell him he's off the hook.
Flight particulars:
Distance: 520 Kilometers/ 323 statute miles
Duration: 5 hours 30 minutes on course
Speed: > 58 mph
Lots of fun!
- Charlie Ryan