Rockin' at the Nuthouse

[faoro]

Bo Criss, Bob Hurlbett and I had a rowdy time flying from Skyport on Thursday afternoon, October 19th. The combination of high pressure, warm temperatures and strong west winds made for precarious flying. The air was as rough and unpredictable as we ever get on the front range. Bob and I were glad to be on the ground at lower Parma; Bo did better and landed on top. It was no surprise to me on Friday afternoon when I saw the hang gliders get similar flights with not much altitude from Eliminator.

So, when Saturday came, we knew Skyport wouldn't work as the conditions had not changed at all. But there was a decent lapse rate of 25-27 degrees in Ojai between the valley floor and 6K. My selective memory had already forgotten the laborious hike Tom Pipkin and I had made just two weeks earlier up to the Nuthouse launch. Funny how that goes. It sounds like great exercise when you're sitting at home contemplating the weather. The next thing you know, you're dripping wet, looking down at the loose, sandy shale as you take one step up the vertical slope and slip halfway back - wallowing around with your 50 pound pack like a tortoise on a climbing wall after happy hour.

Naturally, the memory didn't stop two veteran Alzheimer victims like Bob H. and I pondering another hike up. OJ told me he wasn't going because of the east winds and Benson didn't like the time committment. Bob heard from Diablo that Ronnie said it was blowing 30 mph strong northeast at Oat Mountain. Did that stop us? Nah. We drove on out to Ojai and were pleased to see zero wind all the way to the Nuthouse trail. Ten minutes later, at 11 AM, we were on the slippery upslope, with the prickly brush sticking any exposed surface, the bugs nibbling on our elbows and our shirts soaked through to the insides of our packs. All I can say is: we barely made it to launch at noon. It made me think, as I struggled in the heat in the mid-eighties, how did all those intrepid pilots (like Tom P. and Bob H. and Benson) ever do this twice in one day?!?

I launched at 12:30 and soon found out the day was much like the last four in Santa Barbara and two weeks ago at The Nuthouse. We S-turned all the way to the top of the ridge over a 20 minute span and then dolphined eastward, going up all the way. The air turned nasty at Spine One and especially at the Pyramid. I hung on for dear life as I traversed low across the faces of those slopes and Nordhoff Ridge at 2,500 feet. You had to stay close to the terrain to take advantage of the convective heat and it was the pinnacle of active piloting. Poor Bob in the Trango. But I got lucky at the foot of Bruce's and rode the wild bull in a big thermal that smoothed out above 4,000 feet and took me all the way to 5,740 feet. Now, that was more like it. Suddenly, I forgot all the trauma of the hike and the trashy air below 4K. Where should I go? I headed east toward Stooges, but I hit a 12 mph headwind and the altitude bled off quickly. When I turned around, I was unable to see Bob who had been below me when I left Bruce's. I started to scan the bushes, looking for where he had gone in. Unfortunately, neither of us could talk on the radio - being too busy struggling against our wings, wild broncs in the sky. So Bob looked for where I had crashed and I looked for him in similar circumstances. It doesn't get any more raucous in the Ojai Valley. In my distracted attention, I managed to lose 3,000 feet. Now it was hang on time once again. I took a full frontal 150 feet AGL. After 10-20 minutes of hair-raising action around 2,500 feet, listening to Bob and Tom Pipkin trying to raise me on the radio as if it were 911 time, I finally got the upper hand and topped out over Nordhoff Ridge at 4K and headed for the school. God, did it feel good to be on the ground once again.