Mt. Buffalo

The forecast last night was for northerly wind today which would suggest launching at either Mystic or Mt. Buffalo. The forecast also suggested that Mystic would be closed, however, due to extreme fire danger. Skipping Mystic wouldn’t break my heart after yesterday’s disappointing flight, and I was keen to see another launch. Buffalo is a spectacular cliff launch set back into a broad sweep of granite wall. The only problems were that it isn’t a great competition launch due to limited glider setup area, and it isn’t particularly safe if the wind is strong. The wind was forecast to be strong.

Sure enough in the morning briefing we were told that Mystic was closed and the winds were forecast to be too strong for Buffalo. Our only hope of getting in a task was to get to Buffalo early and get off launch before the wind picked up. Due to the limited space there would be no alternate launch, and because of my position far down in the order there would be virtually no chance I would be able to launch before the wind shut us down. In spite of all this, a show of hands indicated that most everyone wanted to give it a try. We raced up the hill, but when we got there we found it was already blown out. It was a pretty place nevertheless, and after milling about, posing for group photos, and various other shenanigans we all went on our way. Our carload decided to hike around the mountain for a bit before driving down to the town of Bright, where we cooled off in the river and sampled the selection at the local Brew-pub.

Bomb-out!

Last night the smoke was so thick you could see the haze across the room in the pub. I awoke this morning with stinging eyes and a dry throat, but the sky appeared noticeably clearer. The weather report indicated that the wind had swung around to the north, which would hopefully move the smoke out as the day progressed. Because of the north wind we headed back to Mystic. As we crossed the pass into Bright the smoke became noticeably thicker. Damn! Hopefully it would clear.

The mood was a bit brighter on launch today, and there was lots of activity setting up gliders. I had number 11 in the alternate launch, which seemed just about perfect to me. A few free flying paragliders and hang gliders launched and had no trouble climbing out. The haze started to clear, and a task of just over 100km was called. It was a nice run up the Ovens Valley, across Happy Valley, and up the Kiewa Valley about 20km before returning down the Kiewa to the Mt. Beauty Airport. It seemed quite doable.

When I launched there were already a few gliders milling around to the right of launch, so I went left along the spine and was rewarded with a strong smooth climb. Soon several others joined me, and we climbed nicely as we drifted behind launch and to the south. The wind seemed fairly strong, and I didn’t want to get too far behind launch, so when I saw a couple of gliders turning out front I went to join them. Things seemed smooth and easy, and I was in the groove. I zipped my harness and got comfortable. Just about then the bottom fell out of the climb. I looked back, and the three gliders who had stayed in the climb I left were now 500ft higher, and the rest of us were struggling in front. Several went right to explore, so I headed left along the spine that had worked earlier. Nothing. The guys on the other side weren’t doing any better, so I pressed on along the spine. I figured with the north wind the knob at the end of the spine that was sticking out in the valley was sure to be triggering a thermal. I got there with hardly a bump, and nothing! Now I was low, and if I wanted to make the landing field I needed to head that way. Several of the others were struggling low in that direction. It didn’t look good. Sure enough, I got to the bomb out with enough altitude to set up a landing. There were already several gliders on the ground, and several others followed me in short order. I couldn’t believe how quickly things had gone sour!

By the end of the day about a third of the field had ended up in the bomb-out, a third made goal, and a third were scattered along the course. Seems like I’m always holding up the bottom third! It was quite a frustrating end to a day that seemed to hold a lot of promise. By the time we drove back to Mt Beauty the smoke had cleared and we had a nice view of the Kiewa Vally with Mt Bogong and Mt Emu on the other side. We could see the gliders landing at goal at the airport.

Mist-ick

Today we awoke to more smoke than yesterday. The wind had changed yesterday afternoon and the valley filled with smoke. From the general lack of enthusiasm it was clear that most people felt we wouldn’t fly. I knew we would go through the motions anyway, and I made sure that I was ready and that I signed up for alternate launch. Surprisingly, (or perhaps due to the general pessimism) not many chose to sign up. I had a launch position of 7, but no one was in slots 1-3, so effectively I would be 4^th in the launch order. Much better than yesterday’s cliff-hanger!

The pilots meeting started with Heather reading some quotes out of the Oz report. She was obviously miffed, and it became clear that the reason was that she had taken some flak for canceling yesterday’s task. Apparently Davis was critical of the decision, as was Gerolf. Others, including Jonny Durand Jr., were in favor of canceling the task. Apparently Heather had talked to the safety committee (which included Gerolf) and they had all felt that the task could be completed safely. Heather had decided to cancel it anyway after talking to others. Gerolf seemed to feel that she had no right to cancel the task on safety grounds if the safety committee said it was OK. This seemed ridiculous to me - the meet director has the ultimate authority to cancel the task. The safety committee only has the power to stop a task on safety grounds – they can’t force it to go on or override the meet director’s safety concern. Certainly the conditions were deteriorating, and were below local visual flight rule minimums when the task was canceled. Davis and Gerolf argued that because visibility is often worse in the LA area or in Basano, Italy that there wasn’t a problem.

Ironically, when I talked to some local pilots later, they commented that based on Davis’ description of his flight, he had taken a course line that took him far over the back of the ridge into an area that would have been very difficult to get out of had he gotten low. Those who know the area never get in that position. Presumably he wouldn’t have either if he had seen where he was.

I think most people agreed with the canceling of the task. Certainly based on what I saw in the air, and at the airport later (the intended goal of the task), it was very appropriate. Presumably as a result of the dispute, Gerolf resigned from the safety committee.

With that bit of drama behind us, Oli gave a weather report. He said it was going to be another good day like yesterday – that got a chuckle from the crowd. The wind had gone northeast, which held some promise of clearing out the smoke, so we were sent to Mystic launch in Bright in the Ovens Valley - about 20 miles to the west.

When we arrived at launch, the visibility was terrible. It didn’t look good, and most people left their gliders on the cars. Because of my position in the launch order I knew that if it cleared up and they called a task I had to be ready, so again I went through the motions of setting up and getting ready. By the time they called the pilots meeting, however, things had gotten worse. There seemed to be three possible courses of action – wait and see if it got better, have a spot landing contest in the bomb-out as the task, or call the day. I was in favor of either of the two options that would have given us a chance at a task, but most people wanted to call it a day. A few people flew anyway, with a couple of the guys trying to go to the Porpunkah Airport just 5 miles down the ridge, and the rest flying around for a bit and then landing in the bomb-out. I rarely pass up a chance to fly if my glider is set up on launch, but conditions were so poor I was concerned that I would lose sight of the ground if I attempted to climb to make the glide to the Airport. Breaking down on launch seemed the smarter thing to do.

Mt Emu

Today was the first day of the Bogong Cup. I enjoy mountain flying, but I have never flown a competition in the mountains. The added logistics and pressure of having 90 pilots launching one launch in variable conditions under competition pressure certainly cranks up the adrenalin a notch or two.

I discovered that in this competition the launch order is again determined by WPRS rankings, and since I don’t have a ranking, I didn’t even show up on the launch order. I asked about this, and was told I would launch last. Several others were in this position – we couldn’t all launch last could we? I definitely felt a little miffed at this, but I guess somebody has to launch last. Then I learned that there is something called “alternate launch” where you can sign up to launch before the main competitors. A certain number of slots are available, and whether you get in and your order is determined by lottery. This definitely sounded better than last, so I signed up. I ended up 16 out of 18 in the alternate list. There is only 30 minutes allowed for alternate launch. Any alternate still on launch when the time is up goes back into their original position. We were sent to launch, but told not to set up until the task and safety committees had had a chance to evaluate conditions.

When we arrived on launch the smoke was thick and the wind was light. Most of the fires from late last year were out, but some new ones had started to the southwest, and a southwest wind was bringing smoke over the back of the mountain. The back of the mountain was completely obscured, and the valley was barely visible. We could not see the mountains on the other side of the valley. Slowly things appeared to clear, a task was called, and launch open approached. No one seemed too anxious to launch, but I really wanted to get off in the alternate window. It would be close with only 30 minutes and 15 pilots in front of me. Fortunately someone ahead of me called a push, and that got things started. Things weren’t going fast, though and the clock was ticking. Davis got 11 in the alternate and when he got on launch it started to tail lightly. Damn! He was there for a god 10 minutes. When he finally launched there was only 4 minutes left and 4 pilots ahead of me. They all went in pretty short order and I got up with a minute left. It was coming up ever so slightly, so I did my best power launch and sailed off the hill. Those who had launched before were struggling to the right, so I went left following a spine out from the hill. About 200 yards down the spine I hit a light climb and was soon turning and above those who had launched just before me. They joined me and we took the snaky climb to 8000 feet above and behind launch. We were just at the top of the smoke – you could still see the valley, but everything to the west and south was obscured. I decided to work my way north along the front of the range on the edge of the smoke. It was an eerie feeling never having flown here before, and not being able to see the countryside to orient myself. I just followed the course line towards the first turnpoint. Just inside the start circle I noticed the smoke getting noticeably thicker. Now I couldn’t see anything to the north on course. About then I noticed a couple of pilots coming back. That was a bit suspicious. I contacted our driver on the radio and she confirmed that the task had been canceled. I let her know that I would fly back to the airport to land to make the retrieve easy – most others would do the same. Flying back was odd, just following my GPS. I could see a couple of towns but had no idea which was Mt. Beauty or where the airport was. I was happy for that little arrow on the flight computer!

At the airport there were already a few pilots on the ground. The wind on the ground appeared to be light north even though it was south aloft. I came in with lots of speed and saw the windsock hanging limp. My last couple of landings I was just a touch slow, and if it was no wind or slight tail I couldn’t afford to do that now. I jammed the bar and the glider rotated with a snap, popped up a bit and then dropped with a jarring “thunk!” on the keel. Not real graceful, but it worked. I got to see many more landings, some very “interesting”, as the other pilots came back to the airport.

It was too bad that we didn’t get a task in, but it was nice to fly and get a little orientation, and get some of the intricacies of mountain competition sorted out.

Mt Beauty

Yesterday we drove from Forbes to Mt. Beauty. The temperature was well over 100 degrees and the wind was strong and west. I was glad we weren’t trying to fly. We had been quite lucky with the weather at Forbes. Of the eight competition days and one practice day only one was not flyable. The temperature was warm but not unbearably so, and the flying was epic. I think everyone wants to go back next year.

Driving to Mt Beauty the landscape changed dramatically. We left the hot dry plains around Forbes and traveled south. After crossing the Murray River into Victoria we followed the gently rising Kiewa Valley. Soon there were mountains on both sides and a wide valley of green irrigated farms. The mountains here remind me or the Appalachians of the Eastern US, but the vegetation is more similar to central California. It’s an odd mix of familiar and unfamiliar.

The town of Mt. Beauty is a ski destination, but it is also quite busy in the summer with vacationers escaping the heat. The Kiewa river runs right past the caravan park, and it was full of kids (young and old) inner tubing, splashing in from a rope swing, and generally having a good time. It was certainly a welcome and cooling break after the long hot drive.

Tonight is the first pilots meeting, and I am spending today exploring and getting oriented. Tomorrow will be the first competition day, so it would be good to get in a practice flight to familiarize myself with the area, but the air is full of smoke carried in by a strong west breeze from the fires to the west. I am still struggling with a low grade head cold, so it’s probably a good idea to take it easy and have a rest day.

Beating Gerolf

Today was the last day of the comp. The awards presentation and dinner is tonight, so there was significant motivation to call a “barbeque task.” It would probably be something that would keep us close so that everyone could be back in time for the dinner. It looked pretty certain that we would do a triangle, since the wind was forecast to be light.

When we got to the airfield the wind was a brisk out of the north to northwest. A tug was sent up to check winds aloft. It was 15knots all the way up – not good for trying to fly up wind. The task was called as an out and return to Grenfell – 40 miles to the south southeast. Jonny’s task briefing was: “We’re all going to fly to Grefell, turn around, smile and wave at each other, and then see who really has guts to make it back.”

I was still not feeling 100%, but I wanted to fly, and I felt I was up to it. I took advantage of an early launch, but stayed in the start circle waiting for the first gaggle. It was blue again today, but the climbs were strong and high, though far between – a good day to stick with other gliders. It was a fun run downwind; I made the turnpoint, took a deep breath and turned around. It turned out things weren’t as bad as I expected. I had gliders to fly with the whole way, and the climbs were reliable, though the glides were long. I never got low, and when the glide computer said I had goal I believed I might make it. I cut things a bit closer than I normally would on my next to last climb, then decided to be conservative and get lots of altitude for final glide. My computer said I had it with 2000ft, but I actually made it with 3000, even flying as fast as I could while keeping the glider going (sort of) straight. This time I actually beat a few people into goal, though a lot made it – we’ll probably hear the final number tonight. Definitely some went down on course, including Gerolf. I beat him today – definitely a first!

Get the Google Earth File here

An Odd Day

I woke this morning feeling a bit out of sorts. I couldn’t quite figure out why. Part of it was certainly the mild earache that signaled the onset of a head cold, and part of it was certainly the mental fatigue from this week of high intensity flying activity. I am finding competition flying particularly stressful, since there is so much going on, and so much of it is out of my control. Being new to competition, every aspect of it seems to demand my full attention, and eventually I just overload. At that point the whole scene just sort of washes over me and I feel a little bit numb just waiting to be told when and where to go and what to do.

At headquarters I checked the scores to see what my position in the staging line would be: 69. The first time this week I had an odd number – appropriate, since I was feeling a bit odd! Everyone seemed to like the earlier launch window, and yesterday was certainly a good test of it since it was not a day people would have typically launched early. “See Davis, it wasn’t so bad”. I just had to throw out that small jab, since Davis was the one who had harassed me the most for suggesting it. He kept saying that I needed to quit blaming the organizers for my problems, and that I had a full ten minutes that I could have launched when no one wanted to on the windy day two days ago. I have no idea why he even cared, since it didn’t affect him at all, but I get the feeling he just likes to make things difficult whenever he can, and he thrives on controversy – real or manufactured.

Things were a bit disorganized out at the field, since the task committee was still debating the task, and the launch crew was trying to determine the best launch setup. It looked like a light and variable day with a slight east to northeast bias. It would probably be blue again today with top of the climbs only reaching around 4500ft earlier and 7000ft later. It seemed like a good day for a moderate sized triangle, but apparently Attilla was still holding out for a long task: 306km downwind to Hay! Jonny Durand seemed to favor a smaller triangle, and Gerolf was on the fence. The crew finally decided to set up launch mid field facing east, with the staging lines running north-south. It was a good choice, as it gave the most flexibility in case the wind picked up or changed direction. It turned out that the wind stayed light and variable, making for some interesting landings by those who bombed out!

We were barely set up and not yet in the staging line when the horn sounded for the task briefing. The task was 176km out and back, with both legs more or less cross wind. It seemed a pretty reasonable task for the day. I entered the route in my flight computer, and suddenly the screen went dark, as if somehow the contrast setting had changed. The same thing happened yesterday, and I was able to go into the menu and lower the contrast to make it readable, and then after a short while it came back and I reset the contrast to the original value and everything seemed fine. I tried the same thing again today, but then the screen went completely black, and I couldn’t see a thing. I turned it off hoping it would fix itself like it did yesterday. I went back to suiting up to fly. I tried to do a radio check with my driver and found that my push to talk switch which had worked flawlessly for 3 years was on the blink. Crap. I turned the vario back on – still black. About this time Davis came down the line yelling my name. “Why aren’t you launching? The launch window is open. You wanted an early launch, get out there!” “Don’t you have something better to do, Davis”, I replied. I can’t remember what he said then, but my reply was “Davis, I think I speak for most everyone here when I say f**k off.” Well, that pleased him no end since what he loves most is to get a rise out of people. By this time I had had enough. I took off my gear and called my driver on the radio and told her I was going to break my glider down and not fly. I certainly could have flown, since I had my back-up GPS for navigation, my flight computer audio vario was still working, and the radio is only marginally useful in the air anyway. I just hate conflict, though, and I hate being baited into it. Coupled with everything else that was going on I just wasn’t having fun, and it was time to back off. Hopefully Davis achieved some feeling of manhood by working his way down to the 69^th position in the competition to psyche someone out of flying!

Back at the Vandenburg I got out my radio spares and did some testing. Sure enough, the push-to-talk was bad. I clicked in a new one and everything was working. I cut off the old connector and crimped on a new one and the original switch worked now as well. It was a good test of the easy swap out and repair feature of the system; from now on I will carry the spares in my harness. Next I tackled the flight computer. I switched it on and of course it worked fine. I tried entering courses and doing various things to get it to malfunction again, but to no avail. Perhaps it was sitting in the sun that it didn’t like. Tomorrow I will try and keep it in the shade. I tried to e-mail Steve Kroop at Flytec for some suggestions, but the wireless network was down. Oh well, just not my day, I guess. I headed of to the Chemist to get some Sudafed for my cold, the grocery store for some ice cream, and back to the caravan park for a nap. Tomorrow is another day.