Lenticular Clouds

Found these on flickr:





Lenticular clouds mean severe turbulence and strong lift. Paragliders avoid them and the sky when they're present.

Power pilots tend to avoid flying near lenticular clouds because of the turbulence of the rotor systems that accompany them, but sailplane pilots actively seek them out. Although the clouds can produce heavy turbulence they also show a sign of precipitation. This is because the systems of atmospheric standing waves that cause "lennies" (as they are sometimes familiarly called) also involve large vertical air movements, and the precise location of the rising air mass is fairly easy to predict from the orientation of the clouds. "Wave lift" of this kind is often very smooth and strong, and enables gliders to soar to remarkable altitudes and great distances. The current gliding world records for both distance (over 3,000km) and altitude (14,938m) were set using such lift.

Relationships

I attended a summer solstice party with the "Band of Angels" at a lavish estate in the Los Altos Hills last night. I flew up to SF just for the party and knew I was coming back early so I threw my wing in the back of the SUV so I could fly today.

When I arrived at Torrey the wind was weak and south. I had a BLT before launching and considered not flying at all. I just didn't want to do a sled ride. But, as I was eating, I noticed there was one pesky little blue wing that just kept getting big air as everyone else was bombing out. That was my goal, to get up there with him, or as it turned out her.

I geared up and launched. It was even lighter and more south away from the LZ than at it. I looked down at the wind socks and couldn't believe the direction. I didn't go very far but I stayed up for about 45 minutes. I did a lot of figure-8s wherever I found lift. After a while it was starting to feel like a lot of work. My arms were getting sore for some reason. I came in and landed. This is where the fun began.

Danielle was gearing up and noticed me. She put down what she was doing and gave me a big hug. A few paragliders were lounging around the pavilion talking shit about the nudie beach below. I knew all the faces but few of the names. It was a good time, just a relaxing conversation that lasted as long as my flight.

As I was packing my wing the blue wing pilot came over to talk with me. She was a visitor from Russia. She asked why no one was flying. I said, "We're all spoiled." Usually conditions here are absolutely perfect. When the wind's off just a little bit we come down. No one wants to end up on the beach." She asked what dangers were there. I had to laugh. "No, we're really spoiled. The beach is gorgeous, we just don't want to walk up the hill." How long does it take? "20 minutes at the most. Danielle can do it in 2 songs on her iPod."

I encouraged her to launch and enjoy herself. I simply knew I would be back on another perfect day. Not merely excellent... perfect.

Father's Day Flight

Flight: 115

What do you get for the father who has everything? Time to go flying!

Besides being treated to breakfast in bed and getting a full body massage by the 3 most beautiful girls I know I was treated to the afternoon off to go flying. I strapped an HD video camera on my helmet for this nearly hour-long flight. When I get a chance I'll post some of that. It was a perfect day.

Terms Related to Paragliding

I work with computers, a lot of them, and they need names. Most of the time these days I name fileservers, databases, even routers and disks terms that are related to paragliding. I'm posting this list here for reference next time I need a name. I'll keep updating this list over time.

aerodynamic, aenometer, AGL, air, airbourne, airfield, airfoil, Alps, altitude, angle-of-attack, Annecy, approach, ascent, aspect-ratio, aviation, aviatrix, axis, best-glide, big-ears, bird, blow, bomb-out, brake, breeze, canopy, cell, check-list, chord, chute, cirrus, climb, cloudbase, cockpit, collapes, core, crabbing, crest, cross-country, cumulous, descend, DHV, dive, dive, downward, drag, drift, drop, dust-devil, dvh, flight, float, foil, full-stall, gaggle, gear, glide, glide path, glide ratio, glide-angle, gloves, gps, gust-front, hang-gliding, hangy, harness, headwind, hook-knife, hover, howling, hypothermia, hypoxia, inflation, inversion, kiting, landing zone, lapse-rate, launch-point, lift, lift, liftband, lines, loop, LZ, min-sink, MSL, Oludeniz, outlanding, Owens, para-waiting, pilot, pilot-in-charge, pitch, plf, polar-curve, ppg, prayer-flag (lungta), pwaitt, reserve, retrieve, ridge, rig, rise, rise, risers, rocket, roll, rotor, Salève, SAT, scrape, screamer, shoot-up, Sierras, sink, sink-rate, siv, soaring, span, spin, spine, spiral, stall, sundog, surge, tailwind, take-a-wrap, takeoff, tandem, task, thermal, Torrey, trigger, trim-speed, tumble, upward, vario, venturi, virga, vortex, wall, waypoint, weather, wind, wind-sock, wing, wingover, XC, yaw

Paragliding on Mars

I was doing a little research on dust devils and came across this image:



Apparently there are thermals on Mars. Who knew!

This image was photographed by the Mars rover Spirit. The counter in the bottom-left corner indicates time in seconds after the 1st photo was taken in the sequence. Three other dust devils appear in the background.

When I take my trip to Mars I'm definitely bringing my wing.

What it's like to live in paradise

Flights 113 and 114.

I've been watching the weather reports all week looking for the best day to go to Torrey. After the XC clinic I've been eager to get the feel of the air again. It's been south all week, then finally, yesterday, it was coming in a bit light but due west.


How do you measure a timeless time?

I arrived at Torrey around 11:30. I spent a bit of time showing Gabe my new gizmo, a Kestrel 4000, and then got geared up.

It was blowing 8-10 MPH. I've seen better conditions, but there was enough to get the full range of Torrey. I was hoping to get high and practice some wingovers. Instead it turned into a study of ridge lift. I was surprised to find a lot of guys bombing out on the beach. I seemed to be finding lift.

I'm more sensitive to lift now. I know a lot more than I used to. I know you don't have to be 2 feet from the ridge to find it. I also know that it shows up in places where you can't account for it. I was just listening to my wing. I found a lot of lift out by the mansions, south of the LZ. But, I never got above 500 ft. I felt the wind change, moving south. I decided to head to the north ridge. I was getting lift there but it was crowded. Then I head to the golf course. This is where the fun started.

Some of the spines and canyons on the golf course ridge were really blowing. They were getting perfect venturis. I saw some crows circling over one and went to join them. I was going from 250 to 450 on each cycle. It was interesting that in such light winds there was a little blowhole going off there: a microcosm.

I was loving this. I played with it. I found other spines that were more or less powerful under the conditions. I started sinking to the beach but found a way up each time. Then I looked at the clock, it was 3 o'clock! I had spent 3 hours scraping, playing and exloring my curiousity about these ridges. It was bliss.

This is what living in paradise is like. Torrey is so reliable so often that you don't even think about it. You show up, inflate your wing and fly.

When I landed it was south. I came in and did a button-hook landing, stumbing a bit because I hadn't used my legs in so long. I wasn't satisfied with that so I re-launched and came back in and landed a bit more gracefully.

I can't believe 3 hours passed so beautifully. It was a timeless time actually. When you're in the moment there is no clock. I want to be in that moment all the time.

Bishop XC, Day Three

Flight 112

On the last day of the clinic Kari guided us to the McGee launch, near Mammoth. This launch has a venturi which made for some tumbles and false starts. When I first took off it wasn’t clear that I was going to penetrate to the south side where everyone else had gotten their lift. I did. All was well. Very well in fact.


The McGee launch.

I know what the edges of a thermal feel like now. I know how my glider handles them. I know what to look for as I do my 360s. This is different.

Right off of the launch I got about 500 feet from a thermal right in front. Awesome. I turned with the wind looking for more. I’m such an expert now (tongue firmly in cheek). In fact, it looked like I was going to bomb out right in front of Convict Lake Road (I love that name). I headed for a spine where I thought there might be some lift. There were bubbles. I started looking for a safe place to land. Then I found another bubble. And another. Then I found a screamer. It pulled me straight up well over Convict Lake. I got about 2000 feet out of this one. Awesome.


Up and more up over Lake Crowley.

I continued over the next field where thermals were abounding. I took it up to 12K and starting heading up 395 toward Mammoth. I could swear I could see Mammoth, but I wasn’t quite sure.

I started climbing another thermal that for certain was going to take me over some forest. Here’s where I met my limits. I did not want to land in the forest and I wasn’t sure the lift was going to get me high enough to get over it. In fact it all looked pretty forested to me.

I radioed Gabe and asked him what to do. He said, “Stay out of the forest.” Meagan was about 2 miles ahead of me at that moment. I wished I could see here. I just didn’t feel good about going in there by myself. I bagged it.

I turned back to the open field and started heading for a landing. In fact, everyone had landed except for me and Meagan. As I started losing altitude I just kept on hitting thermal after thermal, some of them huge. I can’t wait until I get back up here at Owens to push this further. If only I had more experience or perhaps Kari within sight I would have kept going.
Finally I landed by choice. I felt great, tingly. I make some real breakthroughs on this trip and this flight was the icing on the cake: pure joy from top to limit to finish.


A satisfying end to an awesome trip.

We collected each other and hand lunch at a small store near Toms Place. I was starting to prepare mentally for the 5 hour drive back. No big deal. It was well worth it for this experience.

Bishop XC, Day Two

Flight 111

The back of the truck was a fart contest to the top on Tuesday morning. It was awful, and very funny. I was second to launch and my attitude was top shape. I was determined to overcome my fears of thermals by focusing on all Gabe had said: Get out over the foothills and keep steady even 360s.


Be thankful you can't smell this.

I found nothing at the top and aimed immediately for the foothills on the other side of the canyon. Here I found pay dirt. I climbed nearly 2000 feet in 3 sets of 360s. I didn’t realize until I looked at my GPS that all 3 thermals were coming from the same source. At the end of the 3rd I was empowered. I had felt the edges of the thermals and managed to stay inside.

There’s no way anyone can explain what that feels like. It is something you have to experience. I was focusing on the lift. I was focused on the positive and that’s what I was receiving. It felt great. I moved on to other ridges expecting to find more lift, but it wasn’t there. I ended up landing just in front of the 2nd step of foothills. The landing was dicey, really rough.
I’ve had thermals explained as bubbles coming up from a pot of boiling water. They rotate at the source which causes dust devils. I aimed for a dirt road on my 1st approach and 20 feet from landing got a huge pop that rotated me to the right and off the road. I landed in the brush. At least it was a safe landing.

I felt great. I had the feeling. That was my goal. I wanted to get out there again and get more. I’ll get my chance.
One more thing. I focused on lift, on the positive. I felt my body tense in the beginning, my legs rising in tension. I breathed and let them relax. I relaxed my posture in the harness, deeply, perhaps for the very first time. I pulled the breaks with my lats, not my biceps. It was a calm deliberate confident feeling. I was going up. I didn’t need to worry about the little strings holding me to the wing or the tiny seat I was sitting in.

My hand naturally came back a bit nearer to my shoulders. It was very comfortable. I was in the moment purely.

It’s a learning experience. None of it is wasted. It’s building. With the other folks on the clinic you learn not only your lesson but theirs. It’s a great way to learn in a sport where some lessons could be your last.


Ryan is 13 years old. He hit 12K on this launch.

That evening the wind was averaging 12 MPH with gusts to 18 at Flynn’s. Robin got knocked over trying to launch. It was blowing 12-18MPH where we were standing. 20 feet up it was 18-21. This was a questionable time to launch.
Robin got off okay, as well as Ryan. When Tom set up he had 2 aborted attempts. We were trying to time the launch between sets, but the lowest the air got was 8. Tom got off well. When it was my turn the wind picked up again and made a launch impossible.

The wind was compressed on the ridge, but down below it was calm. At the LZ it was quiescent. 10 minutes later the wind shifted nearly completely south. Katabatic conditions were moments away.

I thought to myself, “this is a lot of effort for a sled ride. There’s some value in learning a high wind launch. Screw it. I’m gearing up.”

The wind died down for a moment and I looked at Gabe. “Should I launch?” He made a ‘cut’ sign across his throat. I thought to myself “I know I can launch now, but why should I go against what Gabe is saying? When has that ever worked for me?” I bundled up my wing and threw my gear in the truck.

When I was done no one was coming to the truck. Everyone was sitting by the launch talking. The sun was setting. Gabe radioed down to the guys at the LZ to go home, we were going to watch the sun set.

Do you know how long it’s been since I just plain watched the sun set? The valley was beautiful and rays of the sun were beaming out.


It was the magic hour.

I love my family and I embrace the demands of work and parenthood, but they do take these times away from you. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. It was a perfect time to relax and be.

A half hour passed with great beauty. There was no alcohol, but to me this time was better than the finest French bottle. Gorgeous.

On the ride down I learned a bit more about Kari. She teached in Owens for a living. She competes and has Red Bull as a sponsor but teaching pays the bills.

We headed back down to Bishop and had sushi for dinner.

Bishop XC

Day One - Flights 108 - 110

I arrived in Bishop late Sunday afternoon after a 6-hour drive from San Diego. The 217-mile stretch from Victorville to Bishop is a straight flat desert drive typically driven at 90MPH. I saw only 1 cop on that leg of my journey who had pulled over a guy who was easily doing over 100. I was in no hurry. There would be no flying for me Sunday. Gabe called to check on my progress just as I pulled into town. I joined him and the rest of the crew for dinner at the Whiskey Creek.


The Piute launch in Owens Valley.

Torrey Pines always schedules this clinic on Memorial Day which has 2 huge disadvantages: it’s my daughter’s birthday which I’ll never miss and there’s a festival in town that day called “Mule Days”. I’m sure they do that because it’s a long weekend and that’s the best time of year for workin’ stiffs, but it’s really pointless. None of these pilots have real jobs. We don’t need to cram into town with hotel rates doubled, competing with fisherman and mule drivers. I really wish they’d push this a week out.

After dinner we made our way to the town saloon, a real western saloon. I’m surprised no one in there had a loaded holster. They were blasting country music to the lyrics of the pledge of allegiance. “We’re not in Basle anymore.” I said to Gabe, who’s Swiss in heritage. The women behind the bar were telling us they’re not “trucker suckers” because they still had all their teeth. I told Gabe and Robin that the night was going to be a success as long as we didn’t find ourselves kicking them out of bed. Somehow as the night went on I found myself giving choke-hold strangle demos to some pierced-faced guys hanging out in front of the joint. I don’t remember how that started. I just remember it was a natural progression.

First thing Monday morning we piled all our gear in the back of the TPG truck and climbed to the Piute Launch (N 37˚31.155’, W 118˚17.656’). Getting on the back of that truck with 4 other guys (1 kid only 15 actually) reminded me vividly of one of my favorite quotes by Hellen Keller, “Life is a daring adventure, or nothing at all”. The steep climb up the rocky road was enough of a thrill to count out half of the folks I know, nearly all the folks I know my age. But the promise of free flying perhaps up to 50 miles was luring all of us to the top.

My biggest challenge was that I didn’t know how to handle thermals. I didn’t know what they felt like. I merely feared them because they can collapse your wing.

After launch I caught my first thermal. Gabe instructed me through a series of 360’s, but I wasn’t getting much lift and I was heading toward the canyon which we were instructed to avoid. I bailed on the thermal and started fighting the wind trying to find another. I found a bubble, but I couldn’t really work it. I struggled for a while losing a lot of altitude. Finally I landed right on the road. It was a short flight but I wasn’t disappointed. I got some feel for the thermals. That’s what I wanted.

One of the women there is an XC champion, Kari Castle and a local, from Bishop. She and Meagan, the only other woman, ended up flying over 50 miles that day to near Independence. Girls definitely won the first match of boys against girls. I was nearly certain they’d win every match with Kari on their side.


Kari Castle.

Here are the lessons I learned from that flight:

• Keep the wing flat by not letting up on your outside brake
  
• Keep your turns consistent. This way you’ll float along with the wind and track the thermal as it is moved along by the wind.
  
• Keep mental notes of where you are in the turn when you feel the edges of the thermal, that is 12-o’clock, 3-o’clock, etc. This way you can make minor adjustments to get to the core.
  
• Most morning thermals are bubbles, not columns. When they crap out move on and look for more downwind.
  
• Thermals rise from ridges, spines and pinnacles. If you turned the mountain upside down these are the areas where water would flow down from. (an analogy from Kari)
  

I was eager to get back up, but I had to wait for late afternoon, almost evening. It’s too strong at mid-day.

We spend the day retrieving other pilots with the furthest flights as I mentioned from the girls. It’s a great spirit of camaraderie in the pick-up vehicle. GPSs have made this task much easier, but a lot of the navigating is still done with visual landmarks. Trying to get to the girls was frustrating. There were a lot of fenced off areas. They landed right in the middle of the LA basin’s water supply. Google maps would have helped a lot. I wished I had my laptop in the truck. We passed a nasty old cow carcass. This heap of leather and bones was impressive. I marked the waypoint on my GPS as “Dead Cow”.

Later in the afternoon we went to Flynn’s for another launch. My 1st ride was horrible. I was frustrated and disappointed. I started packing my things as I didn’t expect another ride. To my surprise Robin came to get me and my gear and ran me right back up. It was about 7 when I launched for a 2nd time. This was a much different flight. I was getting lift but there were not distinct thermals. The valley floor was glassing off. Lift was everywhere.

Mentally I wasn’t in a good place. I didn’t like being in the air. I wanted thermals and I wanted to learn. I was just getting a free ride from the glass-off. I started heading to the cars at the bottom of the hill. I decided to at least pull off a pinpoint landing at the cars to accomplish something of skill.

After navigating to a good glide point I started a final approach, but I was unable to go down. In fact was rising at about 20-feet a second. I tried doing some mild wingovers to lose some altitude. I didn’t want to get to aggressive as the wind was rockier than I liked. Nothing. I was still going up.

This was disconcerting. I felt out of control. Finally I relaxed a bit and just waited. I was being pushed back. I put on full speed bar but could not penetrate. I pulled big ears and finally started to sink. With big ears on I could have had a gentle landing but just at the last second I popped them back out and popped up 20 feet. That wasn’t smart. Thankfully I descended gently and started packing my gear.

I was still in a bad place mentally, frustrated, disappointed and not really looking forward to my next flight. At dinner that night Megan who is an excellent pilot shared her experiences with me when she was at my skill level. Her husband Eric regularly would soar for hours at Marshall while she waited at the LZ. That helped. I watched “Performance Flying” that evening where Jockey Sanderson said, “When you find yourself getting scared focus on something positive, Where’s the lift.” I wasn’t as scared as frustrated, but the principal was the same.