The forecast looked good at Wellfleet for several days but I know "weather forecasts are fairy tales until the actual day". A quick re-check of the forecast at 5:30 am showed stronger winds, but still within my limits. I left home in the dark under a thick layer of clouds. About an hour into the drive, a scenic sunrise framed by blue appeared beyond the deck of clouds. As I crossed the canal onto Cape Cod, there wasn't any clouds or sign of wind; even the wind mills were stationary. Um. The parking lot at White Crest Beach was empty when I pulled in after 2.5 hours behind the wheel. The wind was blowing but nothing excessive, either in direction or velocity.
Getting my paragliding gear ready I noticed a red fox wandering around. It looked relatively healthy but was making a constant strange barking sound and wasn't concerned about me at all. Having encounters with rapid animals before, I wasn't happy until it wandered off to the south.
I checked the wind around the corner one more time and it seemed fine. A couple other pilots pulled in so it was time to go play.
I laid out my wing and realized the wind was more cross than I thought. After fighting the horizontal turbulence from the dune to the north, I moved further south to be in cleaner air. I was about 2/3 of the way through pulling my wing up when I realized I had also underestimated the strength of the wind. I got the wing overhead just fine, but couldn't move forward and then was slowly drifting back. I killed the wing but got pulled backwards and gift-wrapped Matt's truck. (Thanks Matt for helping me "un-decorate" your vehicle.)
Maybe the updated forecast for stronger winds was accurate. I gathered my wing, and what was left of my dignity, and walked down down to the beach. After ensuring the lines were clear, I launched from the path barely 2 meters from the bottom. The wind was strong enough, and cross enough, that I was able to work my way up the dune. Knowing it was windy, I kept far in front of the ridge line. My forward progress at times was less than 7 kph, but since it was cross it was easy to keep in front of the dunes.
The other two pilots joined the fun by launching from below and we carefully jostled around in the strong breeze. By the time the next wave of pilots arrived, the wind had subsided enough that we were more-or-less soaring normally.
Flying my beach wing. Photo by Max Kotchouro.
The sky got progressively crowded over the next couple hours as more and more pilots arrived. I kept to myself on a dune to the north, separated from the crowds by a little gap. I kept pushing out across the gap at Newcomb Hollow, seeing how far I could go and still make it back without landing. Once I had enough of that I flew south to Nauset Light. (I needed privacy so I could "dump ballast"). After returning to launch and then further north, I noticed Max making a kamikaze dive across the large gap at Newcomb Hollow. As I expected, he landed but was trying to relaunch from the beach in front of higher dunes. Since I had already flown for almost 3 hours, I was ready to stretch my legs and then continue flying north. I landed about 10 meters short of the taller dune, but it was easy to gather my glider, walk a short distance, pull up and continue on my way.
I caught up with Max and then started working a light line of lift out over the water in preparation to cross the next gap at Ballston Beach. I made it across, passing just over the heads of a family standing right where I needed to be. They were thrilled to see me and I was thrilled to be passing over them. I waited on the other side for awhile, but it appeared Max wasn't eager to follow.
The trip to Highland Light was relaxing "sightseeing flying". Since the cape curves around to the north, the wind was blowing directly into the high cliffs and I was 150 meters above the beach. I could easily see the other side of the cape and the curve to the northwest.
Highland Light and Cape Cod curving around to the northwest.
View across Cape Cod to the east.
It was easy but exciting crossing the gaps low on the way back. I yelled to pilots in the White Crest parking lot that even after 4 hours of airtime, I was going to head to the southern lighthouse again. I flew by Tom a little further south and he followed me on his first trip to Nauset Light in a paraglider. On the way back, I noticed a hawk with its wings folded forward hovering over the dune. I didn't want to interrupt its dinner so I drifted around but was surprised when the hawk started floating along with us and coming in very close. It was definitely a special encounter.
I made one more trip north to Newcomb Hollow before returning south to top land at launch after raking up nearly 5 hours of winter airtime. After stashing my gear, I was chatting, at a distance with masks, with a few pilots when a police officer pulled in. He wanted to know if anyone had called 911. We didn't know of anything happening and quickly checked. In a few minutes a pilot sheepishly came forward explaining he unknowingly dialed 911 when his harness activated his phone. Oops!
Pilots were still launching and soaring when I pulled out for my long drive home.
Part 1 on Leonardo
Part 2 on Leonardo
Max posted a fun video of the day.
