The Flatland Flyer
The Flatland Flyer |
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| Volume 2, Issue 4 | December 2004 |
Well, here we are at the end of possibly one of the worst flying seasons in years: lots of wind and rain, very few flyable days. There isn't much we can do about it except remember the few good flights we've had and look forward to a better season next year. So, remember is what we'll do in this issue... Let's start by remembering a day in the life of the gang in Neepawa; a few years ago, Dean Lutz wrote an article for Air Magazine entitled 'A Day in the Life' and we've reprinted it here with Dean's permission. I think that this story captures the spirit of hang gliding on the prairies, especially for those of us who don't migrate to warmer climes to do some flying during our winter months. Speaking of travel, I put together a few words about the trek to the valley a few of us made on the October long weekend. I also take a moment to remember Bob Buffie in this issue. Not long ago, Barry from Adventure at Altitude sent some of Bob's memoirs so I could publish some of them in this newsletter. Well, I picked one anecdote that I found amusing and I hope you do too.
Finally, I'm sure that most of you have heard of the annoyance that has befallen our club president. Thankfully, there was no loss of life or limb, but I consider the loss of property (both physical and virtual) immense: just about everything Gerry owned was in his motorhome when it went up in flames: helmet, harness, parachute, rocket, flight deck, GPS, cameras, radios, and all his computing gear all coupled with an insurance company reluctant to cover the losses. On a slightly brighter note, I hear that his glider might be okay as it was stored in its steel "torpedo" tube outside, although it was right next to the inferno and there are gobs of melted metal on it. Anyway, I know that some of you have been helping him out, but I thought I should put out a call to the rest of the club to help Gerry get back on his feet so to speak. Anybody got any ideas as to how we could help out as a club? In the meantime, Gerry, if you need help with anything, just ask. That's what friends are for.
"The only evil worse than Fire is Insurance Companies".
It's mid-September and we've agreed to rendezvous at the Chicken Corral in Neepawa at 8 sharp. By 8:20, everybody's at BJ's favourite table. Gord has come in from Kenton, an hour west. Merv, B.J., Don and Ed are locals. Henry has come out from Winnipeg, leaving his car in High Bluff and joining Dean.
They are bringing our newly-acquired ATOL unit out for the first time to tow at Neepawa. Although everyone is platform comfortable off our 'club trailer' these will be the first launches for some off "Towzilla". (Some readers might know this winch as it lived for many years in Moose Jaw at Craig Lawrence's house.) The red orange monster comes with a good rep and the pilot reports from those who have already launched from it are enthusiastic. The weather report looks good- clear, winds WSW at 10-15 kms, with a high of 16 C. We decide to set up just east of the Springhill Colony northwest of town. We have 1 and three-quarter miles of unobstructed and plenty of great LZ in the stubble on either side. Colony residents have been very accommodating and often come over to watch and kibitz.
By 9:30 we are heading for launch. Gord, Henry, Don and Ed fly Pulse 10s. BJ has an Ultra Sport. Merv has an Eagle and Dean flies a Spectrum 165. This morning we set up the Eagle, the Spectrum and a Pulse. By 10:30 we are looking for a wind dummy. Dean volunteers and takes Merv's Eagle. BJ will drive and Merv will release the glider and observe. The first tow is smooth and uneventful. Dean gets 2010' AGL, no lift and makes a nice two step landing next to the other gliders after a 15-min flight. Ed, Gord and Don haven't launched from 'Towzilla' before so they follow Dean in the relatively smooth air. Don gets 2350' AGL on his Pulse suggesting an increase in winds aloft. Merv, Henry and BJ each take a turn on the glider of their choice with similar results; extended sleds with a little over 20 minutes the longest flight. Dean goes again on his own Spectrum, gets 2300' AGL and 23 minutes. Things seem to be looking up a bit but the line chute fails to open, the chute falls in the only large wet spot within two miles and the crew are delayed 25 minutes in the retrieval and return to launch.
At this point, one of the farm boy's 'lunch alarm' goes off and its back to the Corral "for a sandwich". We're back at launch at 2:45 and still no clouds to speak of. BJ takes the next tow on Dean's Spectrum. It looks like he's sinking out but then he seems to hold at 1500' and then starts up under a wispy cloud that can't be much bigger than a couple of acres. He works the lift to 4400' AGL and lands 55 minutes later insisting he could have made Glenella but he knew nobody wanted to come and get him. Although BJ's cloud was still the only one up there, we launched Don and he managed a couple hundred feet several times before sinking out after 30 minutes. By 7:45 in the evening, everyone has had at least three flights and close to an hour of airtime. BJ has closer to two. Henry says he's never had an opportunity to see the double sunset and the first one today is gorgeous. We have him in his harness at sundown. Someone tapes a beacon to his kingpost and he is off the deck in time to see it again. He lands a happy camper. The group is unanimous that "Towzilla" is a great towing unit and a real treasure. (The winch is beautifully overbuilt; carries nearly 8000 feet of line and is mounted on a red orange '69 Ford 1 ton crew cab.)We break down the gliders and head for supper at the Breaker 16 truck stop just east of town. Décor is circa 1965, and the grub is first rate and plentiful. There is something very special about the afterglow of a day of good flying; eating with your friends and reflecting on the day's experience. We're not young. The "kid" of our group is 43, the oldest 69, the rest 50+. We're unlikely to win any competitions, prizes or be featured in any magazine articles unless we write them ourselves. We are, in that sense, ordinary pilots in this extraordinary sport; ever grateful for the privilege of doing something very special. I thought somebody captured it nicely at dinner when they said, "You know, what we do as pilots isn't that fancy, but it sure is fun!" Yeah, it is. Flying safe, helping one another, encouraging one another, flying safe and having fun is pretty much what its all about
As some of you might recall, the May long weekend was somewhat of a washout with mainly sledders. But the October long weekend was even better that expected. The weather forecast was calling for some warm breezes and temperatures in the high teens. Steve, Gerry, James and myself all planned to head out on Friday morning, but we got delayed.
We started with a late afternoon snack of hot wings and beer at Steve's favourite watering hole and then headed west down the TransCanada from there. We arrived at the Waverly with plenty of time to check in and grab a couple of brewskis before turning in. The next morning, we were up bright and early and the forecast looked good but by the time we got out to the ridge, the wind had picked up pretty good and we were blown out for most of the day. Barry joined us on the ridge but decided that he wasn't going to wait it out with us, so he went to Crooked Lake to do some wind-surfing. James and I remained optimistic, so we set up our gliders anyway and waited. Finally, about a half hour before sundown, the wind started letting up a bit. James suited up first and went for a sledder. Well, I figured that my glider was already set up, I too would go for a sledder: better to have flown a sledder than not to have flown at all. After that, we called it a day and headed back to the Waverly for the Traditional Saturday Steak Dinner. As always, it was excellent.
The next day, the wind had shifted to the Northwest and was somewhat strong at first, but soon started to let up. Eager James was the first one to launch and I went second. As I came up to launch, I could feel the wind buffeting my wing but I thought I was handling it ok. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, I thought I had the wing balanced and I yelled clear! My left wing dipped as I launched and I followed it over a spine and into a gully, chasing gophers back in their dens as I came skimming over the ground. Things happened so fast that all I remember of that launch Barry screaming at"Pull in! Pull in!". Afterwards, they told me that that was one of scariest launches they had seen in years. Gerry also informed me that with this incident, I get to have a piece of real estate named after me: Gillie's Gully. That's right up there with Gerry's Landing and John's Folly... Lesson learned... Despite the frightful launch, I did manage a ninety minute flight that afternoon; another personal best for me.
Monday was the best day of the weekend. With a warm southwest breeze and temperatures in the high teens or higher, it was beginning to look like the summer we never had. By the time we got down to the valley, it was close to eleven. Barry was the first one to launch with James not too far behind. As I was setting up, I noticed that James was getting quite high while Barry seemed to be playing in some lift and debating leaving the ridge for a cross-country flight. It wasn't long before Barry disappeared. By the time I launched, there was only ridge lift so I decided to stick with it and hang around. I figured that I had come all the way to the valley to fly that I should stay where I knew the lift would be: in front of that ridge. I landed about an hour later and by the time I got back to the top I found out that Barry had gone X-C and had landed about twenty kilometres south of Melville and was now looking for a retrieval. I decided that since I needed a short rest before going for another flight, I would go retrieve Barry. The guys gave a bit of hard time about my decision, saying that I should at least go for another flight before fetching Barry; after all, it was his decision to leave the ridge, so he should live with it. I guess that's one of the harsh lessons of X-C: Be prepared to wait if you don't a retrieval pre-arranged. As it turned out, I did set out right away for the retrieval, but I think I should have gone for another flight first because by the time I got back, conditions had subsided sufficiently that I was only able to get one more sled run before calling it a day. All in all, it had been a beautiful day and we had all stayed till very end, packing up our gliders at dusk to make the five hour trek back to Winnipeg. As it turns out, this had been the nicest weekend we had had all summer and it was the last bit of flying most of us got to do this year. We ended the season on a high note with lots of hope for next year.
If I lived to be 256 years old, I would be kicking my rear end up and down the training hill. Far better to be flying up and down it!
And I even read about a movie actress one time, whose name was something like Zoom Zoom Kapusta, who would not even think of telling her true age by about 10 years or more and even went down to the city hall to have her age legally changed!
And if so, well what difference would 8 or 10 years make one way or the other? By that time no one would care anyhow.
So I would like to establish that it is possible for anyone to tell a little white lie should the occasion require it.
Anyhow, when I decided to take up flying, I had to fill out a form. You did too. And on this form, as well as other things, they ask your age. Well! What was I to do? I ask you…. what should I have done?
Hang Gliding is a young person’s sport! Also you had to be in good shape and not too pauncified. It also would help to be somewhat of a daredevil.
So I quickly recovered my composure & casually slashed a few years off my age. Now I tell you this in the strictest confidence and if it comes right down to it, will request to take the 5th Amendment on that issue.
After all, what’s good enough for Zoom Zoom is good enough for me.
Not much to report here except that the club's winches are tarped and buried in snow at Joe's in Stead.
Watch our newsgroup and monitor the club meeting minutes for planned events. There is talk of organizing another chute packing clinic in late February or March. Just keep tabs on the newsgroup for last minute updates.
And that completes one year of the resurrected Flatland Flyer... I never thought that we'd make it this far, but here we are one year later; all we need now are a few more contributors and we'll have a great variety of reading material in this newsletter; just let the words flow. In the meantime, if you do any winter flying, fly high, fly far and fly safe... CLEAR!
The Flatland Flyer is published four times per year, in March, June, September and December. If you have any questions or comments, please forward them to Gilles Normandeau.