Mount Washington

Sometimes the only sane thing you can do is laugh at yourself. First, you’ll need the background. Friday was the last chance to fly before Ernesto dragged his soggy party northward to ruin the upcoming holiday weekend. Cirrus already blanketed Massachusetts and southern New Hampshire and the winds were strengthening from the east northeast. Although east winds are unusual around here we have several launches facing that direction. It would probably be ridge soarable at Mount Greylock. (Ridge soar? That’s right; it was already September 1st and the sun around here is getting weak). Cannon Mountain might be soarable if the wind was light enough, the wind was not too easterly, and the cirrus didn’t progress that far north. Then there was Mount Washington, which is always tricky to predict and implies 7 hours of driving.

I was reading email from Pete saying he was going to work when he called asking if I was going flying. Instead of the typical short conversation, we debated flying sites for almost an hour. Finally we agreed to skip Greylock since neither of us could remember actually ridge soaring there and the promise of sunshine and thermals to the north just seemed like a better idea. We would postpone our decision between Cannon and Washington until we met in Lowell. I called some other pilots that might want to share a ride north. Rodger was shocked to hear Pete was going since Rodger decided to skip the day based on Pete’s earlier email message. Greg was interested in Cannon, but by the end of the conversation he started backpedaling claiming “way too much work to do”. John Szarek called to see if I was going to Mount Washington. I explained it was one of our choices and if he and Toni were going, maybe we would go there also. Lacking backbones, Pete and I still didn’t make a decision once we consolidated on Pete’s truck in Lowell, so we called John for help. However, John and Toni were now in a holding pattern while Toni talked with a business client.

Pete and I hedged our bets and picked a route north that allowed us to postpone our decision for another hour! A short time later John called to say he and Toni were “out”. Rob Jacobs called as we passed through Manchester to say he was meeting us at Cannon. A few minutes later I got a voice mail from Greg saying he was on his way to Cannon. It looked like a decision for Cannon was being made for us.

The wind was blowing from the north as we drove through Franconia Notch but the clouds above were drifting from the east. While Pete was inside the base lodge at Cannon, I met Bianca who was heading on to Burke to meet some other PG pilots. We both commented on the easterly wind aloft and agreed it probably wasn’t a good thing. Pete and I hooked up with Rob in the parking lot where he told us that John and Toni changed their mind and were an hour behind us heading for Mount Washington. What? I guess no one was able to make a firm decision today! After a little discussion Rob, Pete, and I decided to continue on to Washington. Since I didn’t have cell coverage, I couldn’t reach Greg until we approached Twin Mountain. We waited for him at the general store, had yet another debate between Cannon and Mount Washington, and then finally settled on Mount Washington.

Once at Mount Washington, we loaded Greg and Rob’s equipment onto Pete’s truck and drove up the auto road. Once on top we were happy to see the clouds were above the top of the mountain, the smoke from the cog railway was drifting east, and the boulders were not blowing up the mountainside. We didn’t waste any time hiking our gear to the little grassy perch below the road and above the boulder field. (In the picture, it is just below the van on the road). Setting up the gliders was challenging as there was little room and the slope was so steep that I inserted battens vertically into the sail. Since his foot-launched skills were rusty, Rob offered to drive the truck down and help us launch. Thanks Rob!

John and Toni showed up as I was suiting up and they decided to launch at another spot further down the road. With Pete and Rob’s help I turned my glider around and waited for the wind to blow more directly into launch. I was ready to park the glider for awhile when the wind mellowed out and started coming almost straight in. I didn’t need another invitation so I immediately dove off. I started climbing and was soon looking down at the top of the tallest mountain in New England. I could see into Tuckerman’s Ravine, into the Great Gulf, and over the mountain to Bretton Woods far below. I had to dash between lift and sink since I only had about 500 feet between the top of the mountain and cloud base. It wasn’t long before Greg and then Pete joined the fun. I took pictures and explored as much as possible without getting below the top of the mountain.

I noticed the clouds over the valley were lower than me and probably even lower than the top of the mountain. Eventually Greg and I had to burn off altitude and dive under the clouds upwind. We looked back as the mountain slowly disappeared in the clouds. (I learned later that John waited for the clouds to pass so he could launch.) I flew along the auto road and even waved to Rob as he drove down. The entire area was shaded and it began to look like the joy ride might be over. Pete eventually landed but I found a climb on the far side that kept Greg and I airborne, but just barely. I got brave and flew further into the lee side checking out hidden valleys behind craggy little peaks. I was doing ok until I got a little too far into a gap in the range that stole all my hard earned altitude. I ran to a pathetic climb that Greg discovered and we both waited for some sun to peek through. I watched an area back towards the mountain light up and watched wisps form above it. I cashed in my altitude and made my move towards the once-lit slopes. I found some broken lift that really wasn’t productive at first but it eventually turned into a climb that took me, and eventually Greg, back to cloud base where we hooked up with John.

I wanted to go back to the peak of Washington, but it was still buried in the clouds. Instead I flew north across the mouth of the Great Gulf and then flew west along the northern side of northern ridgeline to see if there was something interesting there. Although the ridgeline was interesting and had unique chunks of white marble, most of the slopes were tree covered and uninviting. I returned back across the opening and found a weak climb in the middle over the stream that allowed me to climb while I took pictures looking up into the gulf wilderness area. I then continued back to the mountain and cruised close to the boulders and trees around the east side of the mountain. I played there until I remembered the long drive ahead. I eventually dove between the toll booths before flaring for a nice landing on the mowed lawn.

Flying a hang glider at the windiest place on earth for 2 hours is always a treat. The scenery along the top of presidential range is unlike any other in New England and is always worth the trip. The staff of the auto road are very friendly and the tourists genuinely thrilled to see us fly.

As for all the indecision and agonizing debate, we somehow chose the right place to fly. I later found out that Greylock was essentially blown out, Cannon and Burke dished up sled rides, and Plymouth, east facing dunes at the coast, gave up some good ridge soaring.

(Toni, who just earned her H4 rating, decided not to fly when the wind and clouds made launching less than ideal. Congratulations on your new rating!)