Today looked a tiny bit better on paper than the last two, so I hopped in the Eagle van with about 15 others and headed up the hill. On the way up Gibralter we surveyed the devestation of the Tea fire. The hillsides looked like the dark side of the moon with all the vegitation burned off, and many majestic homes could only be found by spotting the swimming pools and then looking for the outlines of the foundations. Similarly, on the way to parma, I drove up Conejo and found the concrete footings of Ron's garage and from there the space that was his home. It's humbling to know so many people managed to get out with only the clothes on their backs.
Up at Skyport I gave two excellent demonstrations of how to abort your launch, followed by a demonstration of what happens when you should abort but dont. I didn't run all the way to the snake pit, but I got further than ever before; a record I don't feel the need to break.
No lift at the spine, a small bump above the power lines to get me over, and around the ridge to the front below the round house. Some small pops, but I gave up and headed for parma and a look around.
The Monastary:
I landed at the end of this driveway once:
The house in the middle burns, the ones on either side dont. If you look in the bottom left, all their furniture is in the driveway airing out:
Another:
Robb