Pilot Stories & Interviews

Follow up:

May 31, 2004 - Lone Pine, California
Today was an interesting flying day in the Owens Valley because we did not expect much to happen and of course, that’s when things usually do. Cathie and I had driven out on Thursday before the Memorial Day weekend, hoping to get a good camping spot at Tuttle Creek before the crowds arrived. She had made her first trip out with me last summer and loved area, so she was psyched to return this trip. This was my third trip out and I was still looking for the “big flight”.

We woke up Friday morning to clouds forming over the Sierra’s and obvious weather coming in. I announced a “no fly” day and we decided to drive up to the Bristle Cone Pine Forest in the White Mountains to do some exploring/hiking. (It was fun, but I should have topped off the gas tank before driving up!) The gust front came through the valley around 10:00 AM, blowing a huge dust cloud in front of it with rain and snow in the higher elevations to follow. On the way back we stopped off in Bishop to see the Mountain Light gallery of outdoor photography by Galen Rowell (www.mountainlight.com), one of the most impressive photographers of the Sierras and other locations around the world since Ansel Adams. It was somewhat ironic that the sky we witnessed Friday evening featured a beautiful lenticular cloud lit by the setting sun. Here is a photo that Galen took of a similar sky in the Owens.

Although I was hoping the next day would be a great post-frontal flying day, we woke up Saturday to a very strong North wind and decided to go hike up the Mt. Whitney trail to Lone Pine lake, a spectacular snow-fed lake at 10,000 feet overlooking the Owens. Many pilots had rolled into camp Friday evening and all were trying to decide what to do on Saturday.

After the great hike, we returned to camp for cocktail hour and heard a lone pilot launching from Walt’s Point for a glassoff with a number of sailplane pilots who had come to Lone Pine for an annual gathering. The wind had petered out during the day and it was blowing up the canyon nicely. He and a great flight out over Tuttle Creek and made all pilots a bit crazy.

Sunday morning looked good – high pressure had moved in and the light early morning breeze was from its usual Northerly direction. We arrive at Walt’s Point around 8:45 to find it already filled with gliders being set up. I secured one of the last spots in the main turnout area and within 30 minutes it was so crowded that we could not squeeze between the leading edge on one glider and the trailing edge of the glider in front of it. The only way we could work our way to the front to observe launch conditions was by ducking under each wing on the way! I heard from several people that they counted 50 wings on launch at one time.

I launched at 11:05, late by Len Clements’ standards, but the first guys off weren’t exactly skying out so I decided to cool it. Once off, none of us could get above 10,800 and with 30 or 40 gliders mixing it up over launch we had to keep our heads on a swivel for traffic. After returning 3 times to launch to see if I could find a better thermal, I finally turned North and headed up the Sierras. Unfortunately, I only made it two ridges uprange before sinking out and had to go out to land at the Manzanar airstrip, about 15 miles away. Cathie was there with a cold beer and we watched another pilot come overhead and stick a perfect landing, only to see afterward that he was the pilot with only one leg! This guy was incredible. The furthest anyone flew that day in the weak lift was to Black Mountain, about 60 miles.

Monday was out last day to fly and we figured we were in for a repeat of Sunday – more high pressure. My friends from Santa Barbara planned to launch and fly south because they had to drive home that day and it would make for a shorter trip, so I knew I would be on 144.250 by myself once they were downrange. We arrived at launch a bit earlier, but there were only about 35 pilots flying on this day so we had a bit more room to set up. I also resolved to launch later since conditions did not seem to be turning on fast.

While hanging back and watching the early guys launch, the one-legged pilot got ready to go. I couldn’t believe that he could get off that impossibly steep slope while hopping on one leg and was nervous while watching him prepare. Then he casually cleared his wire crew, took two hops and had the most beautiful launch I have ever seen! It was truly inspirational.

I was ready to go at noon and found myself behind a potato (albeit a nice guy from Denver), so I moved along side him and launched in a light cycle. Going over to the saddle, I immediately climbed out and found my way to 12,000 over Wonoga Peak. It was obviously better today, so I headed North right away.

I found good lift over the top of or just North of each ridge I came to along the way and was able to maintain between 10 and 13K up to Onion Peak, where I thermalled up to around 14K before crossing the Onion Valley. Several pilots were keeping pace with me lower on the range and I was glad to be high going past Mt. Whitney. Several miles further North, I encountered my first uncomfortable turbulence and flew through a couple of strong thermals because they did not feel “quite right”. As I sunk lower down the side of the range,
I kept looking for something good, but it eluded me. At 9K, I decided it was time to play it smart and head out toward Hwy 395, where Cathie was monitoring my progress. I angled on my glide to the North of Red Mountain, hoping to hit some lift along the way. No such luck, I sunk to around 6,500 and did not have a glide to the highway, so I found a pasture up in the hills I could use for an LZ and flew a couple of huge circles in the area hoping for something. I finally hit a very small bullet that I could only stay in for a half a turn at a time and drifted quickly North with it. It got better and soon I was in a solid core over Crater Mountain climbing well. Cathie was hanging out in Big Pine and I crossed over her at 11,500 going on glide to Black Mountain, where I had been told I would climb up onto the Whites if I was lucky. Since I had never made it further than Bishop before, this was all new territory for me.

At this point I was resigned to land out at the 60 mile mark and call it a day because it had taken almost three hours and I was getting to the point where everyone said it usually got pretty nasty. I decided to angle over toward Black and see what was happening but was ready to go land at Warm Springs Road, where I saw another glider already on the ground. Sure enough, there was a little lift and it wasn’t too bad, so I stuck with it. Pretty soon another, and then another, and eventually I was half way up the Whites to Paiute, where I had launched two years ago with Len and Shawn into a nice storm cell (A word of advice… don’t let those guys psych you into flying just because they are willing to give it a try!)

When I got to Paiute, I was hitting strong sink and was not sure whether to head out toward Highway 6, where I could land, or head back into the Whites, where I might find more lift but if I didn’t I would be top landing at 14,000 feet. Played it safe again and called Cathie to ask her to find a nice soft spot next to the highway for me, of course. But as I flew out, I hit the inevitable thermal and remember saying to myself, “OK, Mr. Vario says you’re in lift so I think you’re supposed to turn now.” Think I was becoming a bit hypoxic at this point? I assure you I was.

My friend Craig Warren from Santa Barbara had mentioned to me earlier in the weekend that he was surprised I wasn’t flying with O2 because he found it essential when flying this route. I told him I had a system I had bought several years ago but found that altitude didn’t seem to bother me until I reached 16K or higher. Well, after four hours working along the route at altitude, I was really wishing I had some. I realized that I was trying to tell Cathie some specifics about where to go up the road to check out LZ’s, but the words weren’t coming out quite right. She noticed this problem too, but was too nice to say anything about it!

In any event, I was well on my way up the Whites and could begin to see the North end of the range, which got me thinking I might actually make it to the goal. Unfortunately, I was having trouble remembering what the goal was. Was the 100 mile point at Janie’s Ranch or Basalt? As many times as I had read about this route and chased other pilots on it, I couldn’t be sure. At around 4:30, I was adjacent to White Mountain Peak and found myself climbing at over 2,000 feet per minute in a thermal so smooth I would not have known I was ascending unless I looked over at the White Mountain observatory and noticed it falling rapidly in my view.

I pulled out at 15,000 feet and headed North again, realizing that the overcast that had moved into the area was not that far above me and it would be a good idea to stay out of it. From that point on, I was simply flying straight ahead with the bar pulled in and never went below 13,000 feet until I passed Boundary Peak at the North end of the range. As I rounded the corner, I spotted a dirt airstrip next to the highway and suggested that Cathie check it out. In a few minutes, she called to say that the airstrip was Janie’s and it was the 100 mile point. I told her I still had 13K of altitude and she indicated that it might be smart if I got on the ground soon. Knowing that at this point she was thinking much clearer than me, I agreed.

I circled down over the airstrip while Cathie visited with another pilot who had landed there. I set up a poor approach, got popped low, and had the resulting poor landing, but fortunately there was no damage done.

As it turned out, 3 of us out of 35 pilots launching that morning had made it to Janie’s that day. We gave one a ride back to Bishop and celebrated with dinner at the Mexican restaurant.

What a great way to end an Owens Valley trip!