Why Not Fly There? Pine Mountain, 9/6/08

[faoro]

My wife was off playing an early game of volleyball Saturday morning and I was at home looking at the weather and waiting for my daughter to wake up. Most folks went down to the So Cal XC league event in Crestline/Marshall. But I had other responsibilities and had done several thousand miles of driving in the last two weeks, so I held out hope for a day at Pine Mountain. There had been a great lapse rate the day before, but the site was blown out with east wind. Tom Pipkin called at 7:15 AM and we discussed what a great day it looked like on paper for flying Pine. He's still nursing his post-surgical left arm after the hardware was taken out, so I called Bob Hurlbett. Bob had already told me he was ready to fly, but we needed a driver. I called Fast Eddie; he was committed to driving for Diablo - most likely headed to Crestline. So I called Tony and pleaded my case for Pine. To my surprise - after only a couple of sentences, he replied, "Sure, let's fly Pine."

I woke my daughter up and arranged for her to play with the neighbor kids and we were on our way. Jon Kloer's cellphone was turned off, which usually means he doesn't want to fly, so Bob and I met Tony and Eddie in Ojai and we sped up to launch, getting there around 11:15. There was an event going on: The Pine Mountain Pulldown. Rock climbers were all over the place with several dozens camping at the Pine Mountain Inn (Wolf's Grill). We stood at the paraglider pine tree and I said I'd try to punch off soon. Eddie said, "It's still early." Pine Mountain immediately replied with what Tony Deleo said "we call a zephyr, in the local parlance." It was unbelievable how strong that cycle was after it had been calm and still a moment earlier. Bob and I hurried to get our gear laid out. But as soon as we had stuff spread out all over, we were aware that the cycles were almost completely east. And they were long, hard ones. Sometimes it would even blow northeast. My wing was rolling up into the bushes. Cumis started appearing out front and to the west. Brief wisps, but growing. I took heart from the fact that the three flags at the hang glider launch seemed to be blowing consistently straight in. The pauses indicated it was likely thermal cycles and not merely east wind. I thought it was simply drawing that hard over to the top of the ridge in very strong fashion. It was forecast to be 0 degrees Celsius at 15,000 feet - the predicted boundary layer top - so I was standing in the 80 degree heat with four layers including long underwear and a wool sweater. After 20 minutes of waiting, I was soaked with sweat. The most problematic and dangerous cross cycles to launch in at Pine are from the east. No hint of something right up the slope. So I undressed and walked up to Eddie and Diablo to tell them we might get shut out. Eddie suggested a no-wind launch. Since we had no other prospects for a ride home, Bob suggested we simply wait to see what developed. We were a bit apprehensive, realizing that even if we got off the ground, it was going to be as strong a day as one ever sees at Pine.

By 12:15 PM, the cycles had significant south component to them. A line of cumis stretching southwest to northeast was developing. At 12:30 I pulled up cleanly and launched. Tony Deleo launched within the following minute and Bob started to lay out. I flew over to the ridge and promptly got thrown skyward - it felt like I left my legs behind as my vario immediately did the double-take to the higher pitched frequency. Easy does it, I told myself, you knew it would be scary. But within three seconds I had fallen out the front of this vicious thermal and the sickening feeling of overwhelming lift turned to rapid descent and I felt all the fearful inertia in reverse. That convinced me to go out front where Diablo was circling. It wouldn't be the last time that day that I wished I were in a hang glider. The next ten minutes almost ended with me flying out front to find a safe place to land. I had only flown once in the last five weeks and this was all I could handle.

Then it all changed with one thermal. Tony and I were both at 14,000 feet seven minutes later. No worries! Bob got off easily after a ten minute wait and Tony and I were eastbound. I got stuck, as I often do, at the area east of the ranch and Dry Canyon and north of the Chute. In my eagerness to tank up before the long haul across the Badlands, I wasted a lot of time in 200 fpm lift when I already had 15K. In fact, after Bob had slipped off my radar screens for half an hour, he reappeared way out in front of me over the 50-50. He was low, 10K, but he was zipping over toward the Boy's Camp at the northwest corner of Lockwood Valley without even turning. Tony had taken the cloudstreet toward San Guillermo and was pushing on to Frazier Mountain. There was also a cloudstreet toward Mt. Pinos. Bob hit a boomer over the Boy's Camp and took the fourteen and a half thousand feet toward Frazier Mountain. My altitude did give me an effortless glide over the Badlands and I headed to Bob's thermal clinic. Ten minutes behind him, I got the same thrust and topped out at an incredible 16,300 feet. Small wispy cumis kept appearing over my head wherever I traveled through the Lockwood Valley. I was never lower than 12 grand. But I was having a real problem with the temperature. It was bitterly cold despite all my layers (probably around ten degrees Fahrenheit with the wind chill at 16K). For the first time in my flying career, I distinctly recognized the effects of altitude problems. I was spaced out and light-headed and getting seriously numb in my hands and face. But I knew I would see much lower and hotter altitudes as soon as I made a stab for the Antelope Valley.

Deleo had shot over to a southeast directed cloudstreet on the Liebre Mountains. Bob had tried a sunny slope on the north side of Frazier Mountain and it wasn't working. I came over the top of the antenna facilities at 12K and had my little cumi friends spread out above me. I thermaled up to 15,500 feet for the crossing. This was the closest I got to cloudbase all day. Cloudbase had seemed around 16,500 for most of the day; here it was about one hundred feet above me. This assured me, I thought, to make the transition to the Liebres. My groundspeed as I left Frazier was 40 mph. Perfect! But, as always, it all melted away as I stretched out for Quail Lake. Cumis popped up over Bald Mountain at the far west end of the Liebre Mountains, just south of Quail Lake. I was grateful to be warm again at 6,000 feet - hot, actually - but those cumis were just beyond my reach, unless I cared to travel over the hot terrain of no man's land up the canyons. So I had the typical desert landing alongside the lake with the wing dancing all over the place in the 15 mph gusty winds.

Eddie had picked up Bob who landed in Lockwood and the chase vehicle and cold beer arrived within ten minutes. The last report I got from Diablo, he was at 15K at the east end of the Liebre Mountains and was hoping to transition to the San Gabriels. Eddie and Bob helped me fold up the wing. We traveled across the Antelope Valley, got some food at Palmdale and headed off on an incredible chase. Tony got down to about 7K at one point, but made a manly dash across Interstate 14 at Acton to connect on the other side. It all paid off as he sailed southeast over the San Gabriels into a ten mile per hour headwind (can't do that in a paraglider!), using the perfect cloudstreet to get to his goal that he had even mentioned in the car on the drive to launch: Crestline! He had a twenty mile final as he shot the gap in the mountains to the LZ at Marshall. He was the man of the hour at Andy Jackson Skypark in front of hundreds of people as his long flight was announced on the PA system. It was about a 110 mile flight from Pine Mountain Launch.

We pulled in after a two hour drive through the scenic backcountry along the 138. It was worth the drive to see all the smiling faces at the So Cal XC League event. There were aerobatics going on, food, camaraderie and a very festive feel in the warm San Bernadino night. Bo Criss was representing the Topa pilots well by capturing the day. Good job, Deano, on organizng the event!

Tony Deleo drove home even more expertly than he flew and Bob and I got back to Santa Barbara at 11 PM.

My flight: 32.6 miles (the "third of a hundred miler"). Two hours thirty-five minutes.

[Tony de Groot]

Congratulations to those pilots who made the trip from Pine to Marshall. And for those that didn't just drive there........that's friggen rediculous. Congrats Tony on a job more than well done!!!! Has that ever been done before? I don't think so. I was even talking to John Greynald on our drive to Marshall from SB and I mentioned to him, "Shouldn't you be able to soar the whole range?" Evidentally, some people can.