So I'm at Legoland today in Carlsbad, my girls both gleefully playing palenontologist when I notice this at the cashier. I couldn't help but photoshop this and post.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Digg at Legoland
Did I ever mention that I'm a digg freak:
So I'm at Legoland today in Carlsbad, my girls both gleefully playing palenontologist when I notice this at the cashier. I couldn't help but photoshop this and post.
So I'm at Legoland today in Carlsbad, my girls both gleefully playing palenontologist when I notice this at the cashier. I couldn't help but photoshop this and post.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Flights 44 to 47
I heard it was going to rain on Thursday – which may very well be the last rain of the season here in southern CA – and decided to head out to Torrey on Tuesday this week. The winds were very light in Del Mar. I didn't think there was enough to fly, but I drove out to Torrey any way just to check in and perhaps attach my speed bar.
When my wife bought my harness for me I had only been taking lessons for a few months. There was no need for a speed bar. It's a great harness: a ki2fly, made by one of the instructors at Torrey, Ki. What could be better than buying a product you can return to the actual designer, not just the reseller.
Another cool thing, I was up since 5:30 this day working my ass off, starting at a computer screen for hours. By 2 o'clock I was fried. I can't think of any better antidote to software development fatigue than getting up in the air.
When I arrived it looked weak, maybe 5 - 8 mph. My friend Daniel was there and some other rogues that I've been noticing around the joint lately. Bill was happy to see me. I stated my pessimism and was met with stares. Then Daniel said, "Look at that guy." Sure enough, there was more than enough lift. Why am I such a pessimist all the sudden?
When I told Ki I had no speed bar he ran out to his car and got one out of his trunk. I asked Bill if he'd help me attach my speed bar before I got going. Of course, as my instructor, Bill walked me thorough all aspects of not only attaching the bar but how to use it an things not to do.
When I got my wing up conditions were no different, light. I didn't want to go to the beach, but nobody seemed to be doing that so I swallowed my pessimism and launched. The air was great, remarkably smooth.
I've been wearing a vario lately. I bought a FlyTec 4020 pro at Gabe's recommendation. It's already helped me quite a bit. First of all it's a kick to know how high you actually are but far more importantly you begin to develop a sense of what's happening with your flight: how much altitude are you losing in turns, when are you in sink, what is your change in altitude when you feel different things, especially turbulance.
Flight 44: Torrey is 330 MSL ( mean sea level ). I adjusted my vario accordingly and took off. Right away I got 30 feet of lift and when I hit the north ridge I plateaued at 400. That was about all I got for the whole day. It wasn't the strength of the wind but it's consistency. It was just plain easy to do everything, calm, peaceful.
I stepped on the speed bar to see what would happen. It turned out I had tied up much too loose. It really didn't have much of an effect pulling down only an inch or so fully out.
As the wind was slightly north I landed from the south and caught up with Bill again to adjust. This time Ivan, an instructor visiting from Italy joined us. He was doing some acro moves out over the ocean when I was gearing up. I told him that he inspired me last time he was here. It was another light day. He was just kiting, but he was ripping the shit out of his wing. Very cool. I never looked at kiting the same again. I pull asymmetric collapses and just dick around with the lines all the time now, often violently, just to see what will happen, all because I saw him kite one day. I thanked him.
Flight 45: Another trip up with the tightened speed bar and gave it another go. Much different this time and I really got a lot of value out of the vario. You could see the slight loss of altitude when I pressed on the bar and just visually I could tell I was going faster. I dicked around a bit, braking for some time then stepping on the bar. I want to bring it in another 2 inches to get the full use out of it.
Flight 46: was just pleasure. There was no one in the sky, no one went to the beach, there was just no one there. I flew this time around the south ridges. There's a double rimmed ridge just to the south that I'd never really played around on. Again, I always had 1 eye on the vario. I didn't lose much altitude when I thought I would, or rotor, but I was starting to get low. With no one at all in the sky I scraped up to the ridge right in front of the LZ and by the time I was on the north side I was well above MSL. On the north side I really got some good lift this time, heading up to, but not quite touching 500. When I came in for my landing I went way out over the ocean to lose some altitude. I did my best to spot some whales, but just saw the clear blue Pacific.
I've noticed that 370 is a good altitude to come in on the south side. I did a nearly perfect pinpoint landing.
Flight 47: was just for fun. I think of the Sons of the Pioneers song sometimes, "One More Ride", when I'm taking my last ride. I suppose there are a dozen others that could take it's place, but that frontier feeling is strong here on the ridges in California. This was just a normal ride, looking around a bit more casually than usual, plenty of crows as partners. I swung south and started my landing approach when something told me, "Stay up."
I've mentioned before how important my intuition is. I never ignore it. Even if the consequences were huge I would never go against it. And, when I tell most people that they tend to think "Safety First." Well, in fact, I would never fly when my intuition told me not to. But, the other side of this is that sometimes that little voice tells you when to rip it up, or just have fun. This was such a time.
I headed back to the north ridge and got some real lift, well above 500 to nearly 600. I dove out over the ocean doing some s-turns, not quite wing-overs. I was just in love and having fun. What a great time.
Finally the watch told me I had to get down if I was going to spend any time with my kids tonight. I pulled in for another south landing and a moment of bliss.
As I made my way up the hill to fold my wing I thanked Bill. He asked me to pull 2 more inches of slack out of the speed bar. Will do.
When I got back home I hooked up my vario to my pc, correction, my daughter's pc. This software/hardware combination is at minimum 10 years old and requires a serial port. I haven't had a serial port on my pc since I ran windows 95. What a piece of crap!
I installed and tried to enter my registration information, failed over and over again. I gave up. When I contacted flytec via email the next day they said to use a dot not a dash as was shown on my authorization card. Like I said, a real piece crap.
This software, and the whole protection model is so old it's laughable. I can't imagine this is as good as it gets. This thing will accept input from a gps and make a pretty map, but that's not on my list yet. When I start doing some XC flying I'll get to that. Perhaps I'll write something for the web that shows your charts in google maps as well. What a joke!
When my wife bought my harness for me I had only been taking lessons for a few months. There was no need for a speed bar. It's a great harness: a ki2fly, made by one of the instructors at Torrey, Ki. What could be better than buying a product you can return to the actual designer, not just the reseller.
Another cool thing, I was up since 5:30 this day working my ass off, starting at a computer screen for hours. By 2 o'clock I was fried. I can't think of any better antidote to software development fatigue than getting up in the air.
When I arrived it looked weak, maybe 5 - 8 mph. My friend Daniel was there and some other rogues that I've been noticing around the joint lately. Bill was happy to see me. I stated my pessimism and was met with stares. Then Daniel said, "Look at that guy." Sure enough, there was more than enough lift. Why am I such a pessimist all the sudden?
When I told Ki I had no speed bar he ran out to his car and got one out of his trunk. I asked Bill if he'd help me attach my speed bar before I got going. Of course, as my instructor, Bill walked me thorough all aspects of not only attaching the bar but how to use it an things not to do.
When I got my wing up conditions were no different, light. I didn't want to go to the beach, but nobody seemed to be doing that so I swallowed my pessimism and launched. The air was great, remarkably smooth.
I've been wearing a vario lately. I bought a FlyTec 4020 pro at Gabe's recommendation. It's already helped me quite a bit. First of all it's a kick to know how high you actually are but far more importantly you begin to develop a sense of what's happening with your flight: how much altitude are you losing in turns, when are you in sink, what is your change in altitude when you feel different things, especially turbulance.
Flight 44: Torrey is 330 MSL ( mean sea level ). I adjusted my vario accordingly and took off. Right away I got 30 feet of lift and when I hit the north ridge I plateaued at 400. That was about all I got for the whole day. It wasn't the strength of the wind but it's consistency. It was just plain easy to do everything, calm, peaceful.
I stepped on the speed bar to see what would happen. It turned out I had tied up much too loose. It really didn't have much of an effect pulling down only an inch or so fully out.
As the wind was slightly north I landed from the south and caught up with Bill again to adjust. This time Ivan, an instructor visiting from Italy joined us. He was doing some acro moves out over the ocean when I was gearing up. I told him that he inspired me last time he was here. It was another light day. He was just kiting, but he was ripping the shit out of his wing. Very cool. I never looked at kiting the same again. I pull asymmetric collapses and just dick around with the lines all the time now, often violently, just to see what will happen, all because I saw him kite one day. I thanked him.
Flight 45: Another trip up with the tightened speed bar and gave it another go. Much different this time and I really got a lot of value out of the vario. You could see the slight loss of altitude when I pressed on the bar and just visually I could tell I was going faster. I dicked around a bit, braking for some time then stepping on the bar. I want to bring it in another 2 inches to get the full use out of it.
Flight 46: was just pleasure. There was no one in the sky, no one went to the beach, there was just no one there. I flew this time around the south ridges. There's a double rimmed ridge just to the south that I'd never really played around on. Again, I always had 1 eye on the vario. I didn't lose much altitude when I thought I would, or rotor, but I was starting to get low. With no one at all in the sky I scraped up to the ridge right in front of the LZ and by the time I was on the north side I was well above MSL. On the north side I really got some good lift this time, heading up to, but not quite touching 500. When I came in for my landing I went way out over the ocean to lose some altitude. I did my best to spot some whales, but just saw the clear blue Pacific.
I've noticed that 370 is a good altitude to come in on the south side. I did a nearly perfect pinpoint landing.
Flight 47: was just for fun. I think of the Sons of the Pioneers song sometimes, "One More Ride", when I'm taking my last ride. I suppose there are a dozen others that could take it's place, but that frontier feeling is strong here on the ridges in California. This was just a normal ride, looking around a bit more casually than usual, plenty of crows as partners. I swung south and started my landing approach when something told me, "Stay up."
I've mentioned before how important my intuition is. I never ignore it. Even if the consequences were huge I would never go against it. And, when I tell most people that they tend to think "Safety First." Well, in fact, I would never fly when my intuition told me not to. But, the other side of this is that sometimes that little voice tells you when to rip it up, or just have fun. This was such a time.
I headed back to the north ridge and got some real lift, well above 500 to nearly 600. I dove out over the ocean doing some s-turns, not quite wing-overs. I was just in love and having fun. What a great time.
Finally the watch told me I had to get down if I was going to spend any time with my kids tonight. I pulled in for another south landing and a moment of bliss.
As I made my way up the hill to fold my wing I thanked Bill. He asked me to pull 2 more inches of slack out of the speed bar. Will do.
When I got back home I hooked up my vario to my pc, correction, my daughter's pc. This software/hardware combination is at minimum 10 years old and requires a serial port. I haven't had a serial port on my pc since I ran windows 95. What a piece of crap!
I installed and tried to enter my registration information, failed over and over again. I gave up. When I contacted flytec via email the next day they said to use a dot not a dash as was shown on my authorization card. Like I said, a real piece crap.
This software, and the whole protection model is so old it's laughable. I can't imagine this is as good as it gets. This thing will accept input from a gps and make a pretty map, but that's not on my list yet. When I start doing some XC flying I'll get to that. Perhaps I'll write something for the web that shows your charts in google maps as well. What a joke!
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Paragliding in the New York Times
P2
As I was driving to work this morning I was thinking about my experience in Baja, and how much I wanted to fly: not to go flying but to be in the air. Baja was 2 hours of torture and 15 minutes of ecstasy, more than enough to make it all worth it (obvious comments about sex withheld ). 
At about 8:35 my very supportive wife called to ask me to get quarters for our cleaning lady who would be in my office all morning. Hmm, I can't work with the cleaning lady in Del Mar. That apparently was all I needed. I dutifully got $20 worth of quarters for Venusia and, with all my equipment still in the back of the SUV, booked to Torrey. It was just before 9 when I arrived and I spotted 2 pilots in the sky as I approached.
My intentions were very good: I was going to work on my laptop in the dining area of the Torrey cafe using my ev-do connection for the 2 or so hours Venusia was cleaning our condo. When I saw those wings in the sky that went out the window. Bill was instructing. As I walked out on the hill he told me they'd been flying since 8. Amazing. What a morning.
Bill asked me what my goals were: I said landings. There were 2 other guys there that day getting their p2's. He asked me if I had mine. I said no. He said "Why not?" I said, "Because I'm always flying with my friends." He said he needed to see big ears and some s-turns and I was good for a P2.
The reality is I was P2 months ago, but I don't really care about the rating. It doesn't hold back anything I do at Torrey or in San Diego. I'm almost always flying with Gabe. Still, the thought of getting the rating was exciting. Bill asked, "How long will you be here today?" I hesitated and said, "I'll be here until I get my P2."
What does one do when the early morning conditions are near perfect at Torrey: Log 12 or so flights in a few hours. I'm tempted not to list this entry as flights 32 to 44, but that's what it was.
The air at Torrey is remarkably consistent. It comes off of the ocean in a near perfect liftband with very few rotors on top. My last half dozen flights have been at extremely challenging sites - La Salina really kicked my ass – and I wasn't used to how responsive my wing was in light conditions. I took off of that ridge like I had 10 feet of launch space, aggressively pushing to the ledge. Bill politely called it a "bunny hop". OK, I know better than that.
Back in the air above Torrey so early in the morning was a wonderful experience, like the first time you have a massage first thing in the morning (obvious comments about sex withheld ). I noticed some sort of carcass on the the beach. It turned out the be a beached seal. Poor thing. The local fauna was taking care of the remains.
The sea air was fresh and clean. It was very overcast. In San Diego we call that marine layer "May Gray" and "June Gloom" as that's how just about every morning starts for two months. Nothing changes that dark experience quite like getting lift.
I did 2 north landings and 1 south. I performed some spot landings for my P2, pulled my big ears and did some s-turns. I was tempted to do a wing-over, but I withheld.
After 5 flights Bill asked all the students to come in and he showed us how to throw our reserve. Having been through the SIV clinic a lot of the information was redundant, but it was very useful to strap into the simulator and actually pull and throw the reserve.
Then we did some parachute landing falls (PLFs). Having done martial arts for 12 years doing a PLF is really no big deal. It's pretty much the way you always fall: like a wet rag. The major difference is when you roll out you grab control of your wing.
After that Bill signed all my paperwork. I still need to mail in the certification to the ushga. I also had to sign up for p3 training which gives me a right to be on that hill as is my current addiction. I also got a Suunto X6. I wanted to have an altimeter I can get wet for the next tow clinic.
After some lunch I took 6 flights just to get practice. I turned the record button on on my vario - a flytec 4020. The air was getting a bit softer and and one point I had to scrape for lift. I've never recovered from going below the horizon at Torrey. I've always been too fearful of controlling the wing so close to the ridge. Not today. I got right in there. Of course the lift is so consistent here, especially compared to La Salina, I was really able to trust myself and my wing. After just one pass on the ridge I got back over the top and came in for a button-hook landing.
I took another small break to check in with my phone messages. I had been in the air pretty much from 9 to 1. As I sat in the cafe solidly on ground I still felt like I was moving in 3 dimensions. I'm not sure what that experience is called, but it was almost making me sea sick to be on solid ground.
My only obligation of the day now was to pick up my girls from school at 3:30. I got back in my harness and had 5 more flights.
My goals of the day were better landings, and my landings got much better, but it's hard to really say I got 12 flights in. So many other days each single flight was a lot of work. These all seemed so easy. Oh what the hell, there it is. I'll count this as 12.
At about 8:35 my very supportive wife called to ask me to get quarters for our cleaning lady who would be in my office all morning. Hmm, I can't work with the cleaning lady in Del Mar. That apparently was all I needed. I dutifully got $20 worth of quarters for Venusia and, with all my equipment still in the back of the SUV, booked to Torrey. It was just before 9 when I arrived and I spotted 2 pilots in the sky as I approached.
My intentions were very good: I was going to work on my laptop in the dining area of the Torrey cafe using my ev-do connection for the 2 or so hours Venusia was cleaning our condo. When I saw those wings in the sky that went out the window. Bill was instructing. As I walked out on the hill he told me they'd been flying since 8. Amazing. What a morning.
Bill asked me what my goals were: I said landings. There were 2 other guys there that day getting their p2's. He asked me if I had mine. I said no. He said "Why not?" I said, "Because I'm always flying with my friends." He said he needed to see big ears and some s-turns and I was good for a P2.
The reality is I was P2 months ago, but I don't really care about the rating. It doesn't hold back anything I do at Torrey or in San Diego. I'm almost always flying with Gabe. Still, the thought of getting the rating was exciting. Bill asked, "How long will you be here today?" I hesitated and said, "I'll be here until I get my P2."
What does one do when the early morning conditions are near perfect at Torrey: Log 12 or so flights in a few hours. I'm tempted not to list this entry as flights 32 to 44, but that's what it was.
The air at Torrey is remarkably consistent. It comes off of the ocean in a near perfect liftband with very few rotors on top. My last half dozen flights have been at extremely challenging sites - La Salina really kicked my ass – and I wasn't used to how responsive my wing was in light conditions. I took off of that ridge like I had 10 feet of launch space, aggressively pushing to the ledge. Bill politely called it a "bunny hop". OK, I know better than that.
Back in the air above Torrey so early in the morning was a wonderful experience, like the first time you have a massage first thing in the morning (obvious comments about sex withheld ). I noticed some sort of carcass on the the beach. It turned out the be a beached seal. Poor thing. The local fauna was taking care of the remains.
The sea air was fresh and clean. It was very overcast. In San Diego we call that marine layer "May Gray" and "June Gloom" as that's how just about every morning starts for two months. Nothing changes that dark experience quite like getting lift.
I did 2 north landings and 1 south. I performed some spot landings for my P2, pulled my big ears and did some s-turns. I was tempted to do a wing-over, but I withheld.
After 5 flights Bill asked all the students to come in and he showed us how to throw our reserve. Having been through the SIV clinic a lot of the information was redundant, but it was very useful to strap into the simulator and actually pull and throw the reserve.
Then we did some parachute landing falls (PLFs). Having done martial arts for 12 years doing a PLF is really no big deal. It's pretty much the way you always fall: like a wet rag. The major difference is when you roll out you grab control of your wing.
After that Bill signed all my paperwork. I still need to mail in the certification to the ushga. I also had to sign up for p3 training which gives me a right to be on that hill as is my current addiction. I also got a Suunto X6. I wanted to have an altimeter I can get wet for the next tow clinic.
After some lunch I took 6 flights just to get practice. I turned the record button on on my vario - a flytec 4020. The air was getting a bit softer and and one point I had to scrape for lift. I've never recovered from going below the horizon at Torrey. I've always been too fearful of controlling the wing so close to the ridge. Not today. I got right in there. Of course the lift is so consistent here, especially compared to La Salina, I was really able to trust myself and my wing. After just one pass on the ridge I got back over the top and came in for a button-hook landing.
I took another small break to check in with my phone messages. I had been in the air pretty much from 9 to 1. As I sat in the cafe solidly on ground I still felt like I was moving in 3 dimensions. I'm not sure what that experience is called, but it was almost making me sea sick to be on solid ground.
My only obligation of the day now was to pick up my girls from school at 3:30. I got back in my harness and had 5 more flights.
My goals of the day were better landings, and my landings got much better, but it's hard to really say I got 12 flights in. So many other days each single flight was a lot of work. These all seemed so easy. Oh what the hell, there it is. I'll count this as 12.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Baja Solo
I drove down to La Salina, Baja today to meet Gabriel (on his day off) and a few others from Torrey. It's not easy for me to get days off lately so this was a real treat. I left my home at 9 and arrived at the LZ at 11. It's a quick run considering you cross an American border.
It started raining as I was passing through Rosarito. My daughter had a dance recital at 5:30 that evening and I knew I was going to have to fight rush hour traffic to get there. If I wasn't even going to fly I had no reservations about going straight back. I called Gabe and asked if I should turn around. He said, "No way dude. It's going to be epic." I've learned not to second guess Gabe. FYI: Verizon doesn't work in Baja: I have t-mobile. Gabe has Cingular so the advice here is to have a GSM phone (t-moble, cingular) if you're heading to Mexico.
After hooking up with the crew at the Baja Seasons Resort and taking on Eric and Megan as passengers we headed to the LZ. It never even occurred to me to go to the top. Gabe said he was waiting for me to follow him off the highway ramp to the launch. The conditions looks so awful I figured I would only have a sled ride, and I was not missing that recital. It turns out I made my passengers hike when they didn't have to. I loaded up my back and hiked up about 400 feet. I consider this a pessimistic move on my part. That's not good form.
I enjoy that hike. It's the only rigorous exercise I get these days. I suppose I shouldn't impose that on others. I should mention that Megan was yet another hot paraglider chick. Interesting that the men/women ratio was about even, again.
When I got to the top Gabe was beginning his PWAITT lecture. We made it to the first T when someone overhead called him out. Someone took a fall. The first T is topography. Gabe was explaining that we shouldn't scrape the rock ledges here for lift as they have a way of sucking you into them. That seem to be exactly what happened to this poor guy.
There was a group of paragliders visiting from San Luis Obisbo. I believe he was with this group. I jumped in the truck with Gabe and booked over to where they said he was down. When we got there he wasn't moving much. Another paraglider was trying to get him out of his harness. Gabe suggested 4 of us just pick him up by the harness and carry him to the truck, which we did. His legs were bloddy, pants all ripped up and he had a huge bloody gash over his eyes.
From the way he was lying I guessed he broke his collar bone. He was unable to move his left shoulder. He couldn't walk either. His knees were bloody and really looked fucked up. We got him into the truck and Gabe took him to the hospital.
Danielle and I walked back to the launch site. She was not eager to fly, especially without Gabe's guidance. I asked Gabe before he took off if I should fly without his advice and he gave a big yes.
Everyone that had launched was really high. The conditions seemed ideal. However, just about everyone had trouble getting their wing stable at launch.
On the walk back with Danielle she said that she had trouble launching recently and after 2 frontal collapses Gabe asked her if the wind was trying to tell her something. Sometimes you should just opt out.
I took my time setting up my wing, getting out some tangles in the lines and then took it up. The wind pulled me straight up in the air and I flipped around from my reverse inflation position. I couldn't check the lines and didn't want to fly without a stable wing and visual check so I pull the brakes and came down. It all happened in a second. The wing landed on the brush and it took me 20 minutes to get all the lines out of the tangled branches.
My second try was much worse: I got the wing up but it was very unstable. I was pulled up and then did a quick brake. This time the wing was stable for a moment. I turned to launch and the wing dove down in front of me, not so much a front collapse as a roter effect. My wing again got stuck in a bush.
Here I thought: is the wind trying to tell me something? Should I call it quits. I had spent almost an hour already trying to launch. I needed to be back at my car by 2 to make it to my daughter's recital that evening and I did not want to hike down that hill. I decided to give it a 3rd go. The wing went up and crashed down again. I was pissed. I manhandled the wing back on to the launch and said, "Fuck it!".
This was the first time I had ever tried to fly without professional instruction and I was eating shit. There was a P2 pilot up there with me having just as much trouble. He gave up after watching me struggle for 20 or so minutes. My internal check was fine: my intuition said fly to the car, however, your intuition is not the full story. Just looking at the conditions and how many others had trouble getting up was enough for my rational mind to say: call it quits.
I tried again: Wing up, out of control, pulled the brakes and this time got pulled along the rocky terrain ripping up my legs and elbows. When I came to a stop the wing was not tangled in any bushes and I was pretty far back from the rotor of the ridge.
Flight 31: I thought, "Can I even kite it here for 30 seconds?" I pulled the wing into some kind of half wall and tugged the A's. The wing went up and stabilized. Wow… I hadn't felt that feeling all day. Then a cycle came and lifted me up. As I came back down I ran for the edge, and then I was airborne.
After all that shit the air was as smooth as it looked. I immediately got strong lift, but I had no time to fly: I had to make my way straight to the car.
I did some big s-turns on my way to the LZ. This should have been a 3 minute sled ride. I was getting so much lift it lasted almost 15 minutes. Thermals were just pumping off of the Baja ground. I wasn't sure if I was loving it or hating it.
Then I relaxed. I took a good look around. The plateau where we launch was a lush green with fields of yellow blossoms. The last time I was here in October everything was bone dry, dusty and brown. It couldn't have been more different.
There were 2 farmers with sombreros and mules walking in a field almost below my feet. I was only 2 hours from suburban America but clearly in another world.
As I began to approach my car I got another strong lift. I was too close to the ground to pull big ears but I almost felt if I didn't I wouldn't get to the ground. I could have turned right then and there to the ridge lift and flown for the rest of the afternoon, only 100 feet from the ground. Amazing.
When I landed I heard Gabe yell, "Good Job!" He was encouraging everyone to come down and have lunch. I told him about my proposed 2 strike rule. He said if he can't launch after 3 tries he bails. I said that if I failed on the 3rd try I was going to try the alternate launch site. He laughed and said, "And reset for 3 more tries?!" I had some huge gashes on my legs and my elbow from the falls I took up top trying to launch. Gage was looking at them and I said, "I think I'm going to stand out a bit at this recital." We laughed.
I learned a lot in that hour of frustration. I was concerned that I was not making the right judgments, especially after seeing that gruesome accident. I never want to be dragged to a Baja hospital. In the end I was thrilled I could have such an awesome ride in conditions I never imagined.
La Salina is an amazing place. I don't have enough experience to say how those thermals work there, but they do, and you've got to fight to get down. I left the LZ at 2 and arrived at Torrey at 4 to clean up my wing. I made it to the recital in Encinitas with time to spare. What a perfect day.
It started raining as I was passing through Rosarito. My daughter had a dance recital at 5:30 that evening and I knew I was going to have to fight rush hour traffic to get there. If I wasn't even going to fly I had no reservations about going straight back. I called Gabe and asked if I should turn around. He said, "No way dude. It's going to be epic." I've learned not to second guess Gabe. FYI: Verizon doesn't work in Baja: I have t-mobile. Gabe has Cingular so the advice here is to have a GSM phone (t-moble, cingular) if you're heading to Mexico. After hooking up with the crew at the Baja Seasons Resort and taking on Eric and Megan as passengers we headed to the LZ. It never even occurred to me to go to the top. Gabe said he was waiting for me to follow him off the highway ramp to the launch. The conditions looks so awful I figured I would only have a sled ride, and I was not missing that recital. It turns out I made my passengers hike when they didn't have to. I loaded up my back and hiked up about 400 feet. I consider this a pessimistic move on my part. That's not good form.
I enjoy that hike. It's the only rigorous exercise I get these days. I suppose I shouldn't impose that on others. I should mention that Megan was yet another hot paraglider chick. Interesting that the men/women ratio was about even, again.
When I got to the top Gabe was beginning his PWAITT lecture. We made it to the first T when someone overhead called him out. Someone took a fall. The first T is topography. Gabe was explaining that we shouldn't scrape the rock ledges here for lift as they have a way of sucking you into them. That seem to be exactly what happened to this poor guy.
There was a group of paragliders visiting from San Luis Obisbo. I believe he was with this group. I jumped in the truck with Gabe and booked over to where they said he was down. When we got there he wasn't moving much. Another paraglider was trying to get him out of his harness. Gabe suggested 4 of us just pick him up by the harness and carry him to the truck, which we did. His legs were bloddy, pants all ripped up and he had a huge bloody gash over his eyes.
From the way he was lying I guessed he broke his collar bone. He was unable to move his left shoulder. He couldn't walk either. His knees were bloody and really looked fucked up. We got him into the truck and Gabe took him to the hospital.
Danielle and I walked back to the launch site. She was not eager to fly, especially without Gabe's guidance. I asked Gabe before he took off if I should fly without his advice and he gave a big yes.
Everyone that had launched was really high. The conditions seemed ideal. However, just about everyone had trouble getting their wing stable at launch.
On the walk back with Danielle she said that she had trouble launching recently and after 2 frontal collapses Gabe asked her if the wind was trying to tell her something. Sometimes you should just opt out.
I took my time setting up my wing, getting out some tangles in the lines and then took it up. The wind pulled me straight up in the air and I flipped around from my reverse inflation position. I couldn't check the lines and didn't want to fly without a stable wing and visual check so I pull the brakes and came down. It all happened in a second. The wing landed on the brush and it took me 20 minutes to get all the lines out of the tangled branches.
My second try was much worse: I got the wing up but it was very unstable. I was pulled up and then did a quick brake. This time the wing was stable for a moment. I turned to launch and the wing dove down in front of me, not so much a front collapse as a roter effect. My wing again got stuck in a bush.
Here I thought: is the wind trying to tell me something? Should I call it quits. I had spent almost an hour already trying to launch. I needed to be back at my car by 2 to make it to my daughter's recital that evening and I did not want to hike down that hill. I decided to give it a 3rd go. The wing went up and crashed down again. I was pissed. I manhandled the wing back on to the launch and said, "Fuck it!".
This was the first time I had ever tried to fly without professional instruction and I was eating shit. There was a P2 pilot up there with me having just as much trouble. He gave up after watching me struggle for 20 or so minutes. My internal check was fine: my intuition said fly to the car, however, your intuition is not the full story. Just looking at the conditions and how many others had trouble getting up was enough for my rational mind to say: call it quits.
I tried again: Wing up, out of control, pulled the brakes and this time got pulled along the rocky terrain ripping up my legs and elbows. When I came to a stop the wing was not tangled in any bushes and I was pretty far back from the rotor of the ridge.
Flight 31: I thought, "Can I even kite it here for 30 seconds?" I pulled the wing into some kind of half wall and tugged the A's. The wing went up and stabilized. Wow… I hadn't felt that feeling all day. Then a cycle came and lifted me up. As I came back down I ran for the edge, and then I was airborne.
After all that shit the air was as smooth as it looked. I immediately got strong lift, but I had no time to fly: I had to make my way straight to the car.
I did some big s-turns on my way to the LZ. This should have been a 3 minute sled ride. I was getting so much lift it lasted almost 15 minutes. Thermals were just pumping off of the Baja ground. I wasn't sure if I was loving it or hating it.
Then I relaxed. I took a good look around. The plateau where we launch was a lush green with fields of yellow blossoms. The last time I was here in October everything was bone dry, dusty and brown. It couldn't have been more different.
There were 2 farmers with sombreros and mules walking in a field almost below my feet. I was only 2 hours from suburban America but clearly in another world.
As I began to approach my car I got another strong lift. I was too close to the ground to pull big ears but I almost felt if I didn't I wouldn't get to the ground. I could have turned right then and there to the ridge lift and flown for the rest of the afternoon, only 100 feet from the ground. Amazing.
When I landed I heard Gabe yell, "Good Job!" He was encouraging everyone to come down and have lunch. I told him about my proposed 2 strike rule. He said if he can't launch after 3 tries he bails. I said that if I failed on the 3rd try I was going to try the alternate launch site. He laughed and said, "And reset for 3 more tries?!" I had some huge gashes on my legs and my elbow from the falls I took up top trying to launch. Gage was looking at them and I said, "I think I'm going to stand out a bit at this recital." We laughed.
I learned a lot in that hour of frustration. I was concerned that I was not making the right judgments, especially after seeing that gruesome accident. I never want to be dragged to a Baja hospital. In the end I was thrilled I could have such an awesome ride in conditions I never imagined.
La Salina is an amazing place. I don't have enough experience to say how those thermals work there, but they do, and you've got to fight to get down. I left the LZ at 2 and arrived at Torrey at 4 to clean up my wing. I made it to the recital in Encinitas with time to spare. What a perfect day.
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