Sunny Above, Wet Below

We have been getting an excessive number of rainy days this summer so when I saw a sunny day it was an easy decision to go flying. John B, who was also eager to get away for the day, joined me for the drive north to West Rutland Vermont. I was talking to Jake on the cellphone when we crossed the Connecticut river south of Bellows Falls and Jake commented that the river looked more like the raging Mississippi than the clear tranquil Connecticut we typically see in July.

Once we arrived at the moutain, John and I were relived to find out we could "wade" out of the LZ if we sank out. Even the little stream at the road gate was flowing like it was spring. (We passed numerous waterfalls on the way up and drove through streams running down the road.)

We were surprised no one else decided to fly. It was blowing straight-in around 10-13 mph (16-21 kpm) and wispy cummies dotted the sky, with a few even showing flat bottoms. Oh well, their loss. Well, maybe ours too. See, we didn't have a driver but really wanted to fly north along the Green Mountains. However, we weren't going to let that small detail stop us; we reviewed the best hitchhiking routes back and John even packed a road map from my truck in his harness.
While John was busy packing up, I snapped some pictures of others making the best of a sunny day.

Since John felt a little rusty with his foot launches, he went first. He had a picture-perfect launch and was already above launch as he turned upwind to the west. I ran back, suited up, hooked-in, and walked to launch. I saw John below ridge height part-way out to the valley, but turning and slowy climbing. I ran off in a light cycle and started circling to the left of launch in a thermal that was curling off the downwind end of the ridge line. I climbed over the top but was drifting back too fast to stay with it to cloudbase so I came back to join John. However, John was now setting up a landing approach. Bummer. He had a nice landing on the one dry spot in the field. He dutifully offered to drive and encouraged me to take off.

I wanted to leave but I was working hard just to stay up on the ridge. The climbs were small, punchy, and seemed blown apart although the wind didn't seem that strong. I had a couple climbs that I could have left in, but wasn't confident that I could hit cloud base let alone glide across the blue to the Greens on the other side of the valley. I wondered if the wind was maybe too cross to the ridge line. I flew to the upwind end of the ridge line and got stepped on. I retreated with my tail between my legs back to the bowl, well below the top. Just as I got to the bowl I got a nice climb that I rode to 3200 feet (975m) , about 1000 (302 m) feet below cloud base. Instead of leaving I decided to fly back upwind to a line of clouds where I planned to drift across the valley circling at cloud base.

It seemed like a good plan, but instead of a good climb, I found a good beating. I was rudely, but smoothly, rolled to the left and right; at times approaching 90 degrees. I was having trouble keeping things under control but was climbing. I thought I must be outside the core of the thermal, but more exploring just brought more abuse. Meanwhile two very large areas of the sky to the immediate west were exploding with clouds. I then noticed cumulus clouds below the higher areas of clouds and scud floating under the cummies. Um. I thought maybe a short wave or unannounced front was passing through or maybe a convergence zone was setting up. Whatever was happening, I wasn't enjoying it. I didn't like the idea of landing in these conditions so running downwind seemed like the best option. I had just turned around when the nose of my glider was yanked up. I did my best pull-up to keep the nose down and tossed in a sideways motion to initiate a wing over. For a moment I was afraid I might tail slide but the glider rolled over and I continued to leave with haste.

About 30 seconds after that happened John got on the radio and said Bo had arrived and was taking him up to fetch the truck. (Thanks Bo!) John asked if there was anything he could do to help out. I replied "Land the glider"! I told them I wasn't comfortable with the air and was going to run out into the valley ahead of this stuff and land.

Once I cleared the edge of the large cloud mass overhead the air became civilized. I could have reached the Rutland airport but decided a recently cut hay field near the Route 4 and Route 7 intersection would make for the easiest pickup. I had a good, and dry, landing and walked the glider over to the entrance along the road.

Unfortunately, John had to wade through deep muddy water to get his glider to the truck. Meanwhile I watched the mass of clouds that chased me off the ridge float overhead. In its wake the sky was totally blue. I turned my gaze downwards and noticed a snail crawling across my harness. Sheeze. Maybe some sunny blue isn't such a bad thing.


Flights: 1, Time: 1:30, Distance 8.5 miles