Winter was muscling its way into our neighborhood like a roguish thug, I spent one too many days hibernating in the pale light of the computer screen, and I couldn’t remember my glider’s colors anymore. I needed to fly! Oh, but I needed to drive to Rochester NY later. It really didn’t make sense to drive 5 hours for a sled ride just so I could get a late night start on the 6 hours of driving to Rochester. Well, it didn’t make sense unless you are addicted!
Pete J also wanted airtime, so us junkies loaded up on my truck and started the drive north to Ascutney. We both realized that just getting airborne in late October is a “good day”, but the BLIPMAPs hinted there might be enough wind to ridge soar and maybe, just maybe, some very weak thermals. The crystal blue sky provided a nice backdrop to the hillsides’ fading colors. That is until we entered the Keene valley. Dropping into the valley was like dropping into a witch’s misty brew. Moist, gray, no sun and frost covering everything. We were disappointed when it was still foggy on the other side of the valley. We remained in the fog right to the base of the mountain. Since the sun this time of the year produces about as much heat as a butane lighter, we wrote off encountering any thermals. However, the sun started to peek through and soon the fog was disappearing and we could see some wispy clouds forming over the mountain. Yes!
Jeff B showed up with some interesting reading that helped pass the time while we waited for Greg who was about 30 minutes behind the rest of the crew. Jake and Marshall rolled in after leaving a vehicle in the LZ out front. Once Greg arrived, we loaded up his monster van and drove to the top.
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Jake, who usually launches first, offered to launch last in order to help Marshall and the rest of us launch. (As someone who also likes to launch early I appreciate what he did.) Jeff went first and almost immediately started a slow climb. I launched next and slowly sank below launch. I wasn’t worried until I had trouble swiveling my neck looking back up to launch. I finally found a mellow little climb in the gorge below launch. As soon as I broke launch level Pete ran off and joined me. Greg was next but didn’t connect with the fading climb we snagged. I used my meager altitude to see if life was better on the sunny lee side of the mountain. Nope. I cruised back to the upwind side of the mountain and found little bits of lift almost everywhere. Jeff took a run to the west towards Little Ascutney and lost very little altitude. I followed and soon we were climbing at a respectable rate in a nice thermal. Pete and Greg soon joined us in the same climb while Marshall and Jake launched and got established on the mountain.
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We flew all over the valley, a valley that was earlier filled with thermal smothering fog. We didn’t quite understand how there could be thermals here, but we didn’t spend too much time looking this gift horse in the mouth. We flew until it was time to go home. I made a few high-speed runs over Morningside and landed after Pete, Jeff, and Greg. As I turned around after flaring, I saw another glider on approach. After spending some time flying with Marshall and soaking up the scenery at the mountain Jake decided to join us.
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Today was a nice fix and it will help calm my addiction for a few days.
1 comment:
Yep, I have always described it as an addiction. I've never been sure if it's the adrenaline I'm addicted to because even those really mellow, sublime glassoff flights get me excited. THe first time I ever saw someone hang gliding (coming out of the cloud/fog on the Cape, june 75) it fascinated me. The 2nd time I saw it was at a Fly-in at Stowe in Fall 1975. When the announcer said "Wow, he's just gone up out of sight. They call that specking out." I was completely hooked. I've been "jonesing" ever since. PK
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