Swarm

I planned to skip flying last Sunday.  It was too cold (24F / -4C) and breezy on Mount Washington, not enough wind and maybe showers on the coast at Plymouth, and likely blown out at Mount Equinox and Mount Greylock.  Lee and Randy also tossed in the towel, JJ didn't have wheels, and John Z decided to skip Washington after a conversation with me.  Peter J admitted the forecast was questionable, but was headed to Mount Greylock because "he has never been blown-out there" and his daughter and friend wanted to "get outside".  I stared at the forecasted 20+ mph (32 k/h) winds and resigned myself to domestic chores.

Luckily Amy told me to "just go".  I could socialize with pilots that drove in from afar for the weekend.  I also think she didn't want to be around someone looking at the sky and weather reports all day.  What the heck.  I called JJ and offered him a chance to take his glider for a drive.  Apparently he didn't have any other options and readily accepted.

JJ and I surveyed the flood damage as we drove along Route 2 west of the Connecticut River.  Flat green river-bottom hayfields that I flew over a couple weeks ago were converted into cheap imitations of desert sand dunes.  Mature trees ripped from the ground and piled up along the shores provided evidence of hurricane Irene's rain-making power.  Although I wasn't happy that I had to stop at construction sites I was surprised we could get through some sections.

John S was the first to launch as we drove up the mountain.  The park ranger collecting money said it was zoo with at least 50 pilots getting ready to launch.  Um.  Good news: it is flyable.  Bad news: we are late and at the back of the line.  Sigh.  We hastily said hello, signed in at the lodge, and started rigging.

Pilots continued to launch as we setup, forming an ever growing swarm of colors that snaked back and forth in front of launch.  The seething mass would occasionally whirl upwards only to collapse back on itself into a dense mass below.

Time-lapse of the launch area

Meanwhile, the members of a team (John, Nick, Stacy, and Ross) I'm on for the upcoming Team Challenge were there and wanted to practice flying together.  Internally I was thinking its "every man for himself" in that gaggle!

Spectator's view

I lined up behind Doug B and in front of Linda and waited.  Gary assumed the role of launch coordinator and kept the paraglider and hang glider launches staggered.  Of course, the spectators loved the show as 58 pilots ran off the mountain into the glittering colorful cloud in front.

Lining up

Although it wasn't blown out, the wind was the strongest I ever launched into at Mount Greylock.  With Amy R's help on my wing I ran off in a good cycle and was soon part of the mass bouncing up and down in the choppy air.

GREYLOCK 9-18-2011 & 9-19-2011 from Keith Beebe on Vimeo.

Most of us were trying to avoid each other, although at times it seemed some pilots were trying to make the evening news by causing a spectacular mid-air collision.  Needless to say, I quickly started looking for the escape hatch.  It was easy to keep your feet off the ground, but quite hard to reach escape velocity.  After a couple failed blast-offs, I finally broke through to cloud base and finally relaxed.

Launch

The wind and the best thermals kept dragging us over the trees to the south and southwest.

Luckily, a nice line of clouds formed and it was relatively easy to push back upwind to landing areas.  Likewise the line of clouds extended downwind and sang a siren's song of blissful XC that no one listened to.  Too bad.

Our team had radio issues but I did manage to fly with Stacy as she climbed out over the bail-out LZ to cloud base.  We flew back upwind to the valley and north to the LZ at The Range, a mini-golf business along Route 8.  I watched Stacy prepare to land as the wind shifted from northeast to southeast and back.  I didn't want any of that, so I twirled up when I ran into a strong thermal coming off the LZ.

I cruised around until I thought it was sane on the deck.  I quickly circled down, passing JJ on the way in.  I planned to land heading east and not try to land perfectly into the ever changing wind.  However, when the flags consistently showed north northeast, I decided to land into the wind, i.e., heading northeast.  Bad choice.  The wind switched from north northeast, through west, to south as I flew through base and final.  I couldn't get my wings level enough for a proper flare and "pounded" in on a wet area of flood-deposited mud.  Luckily only my ego was hurt.  (I should have stuck with my original plan and should have flown faster during my pattern to compensate for the fickle winds).

Aside from re-learning lessons about landing, it was also obvious that I need to work on my weather predicting skills as well.  The winds were 15 mph, not the 20 mph the computer models predicted and I took as certain fact.  Peter was right.  John also gently reminded me of my prediction flaws via a series of text messages I first saw when I turned my phone on after landing.  He apparently spent the day watching perfect flying conditions unfold on Mount Washington after listening to me tell him it would probably be "marginal".  Sigh.

I quickly lost track of my imperfections among the beer, food, and friends at the Freight Yard Pub later that evening.  We relived the afternoon through stories of brilliant and precise maneuvers used to avoid certain catastrophic collisions, accompanied with hands deftly dancing through the air mimicking paths taken through the swarm.

Thanks James for driving my car down!

John posted a video.  So did the BAF and Dan.

Greylock 9-18-11 from Dan Chisholm on Vimeo.

Flights: 1, Duration: 2:25