The day got off to a bad start. My daughter had agreed to feed and walk my sister-in-law's dogs while she was at the beach this weekend. The plan was for Jenna to get up early enough to take care of her little furry charges and be home in time to leave at 10:00. Well she got up late, as girls her age are prone to do, and we arrived to find a big mess at my sister in-law's house. Let's just say, the dogs must have eaten something that didn't agree with them. Thus, we got off to a late start and I left in a bad mood because of it.
The hour drive to OR was uneventful and I was getting over my 'clean up dog vomit' mood. We arrived to find John Middleton's students setting up in the lower parking lot and a hill full of paragliders. I watched a few of them fly while setting up my glider. Paragliding seems very gentle and peaceful. Probably the way hang gliding looks when it's done right. I must have visibly enjoyed watching them because my wife gave me her 'haven't we spent enough money on hang gliding' look and I gave her my 'No' look back. My wife's looks are far more expressive than mine.
I finished setting up, did my preflight and headed up the hill. On the way up, I was passed by at least three paraglider pilots who were practically jogging to the top carrying about 12 ounces of equipment. As I slogged to the top, I remembered reading about climbers at the top of Everest who take tiny little steps and rest often. That made me feel a little better until I realized that mountaineering at 20,000' was probably not the same level of effort as carrying a 65 pound hang glider up a 100' hill at basically sea level. Oh well, I bet those climber guys couldn't manage a health care data warehouse to save their lives, so I've got that going for me.
My goal for the day was to verify that I could still foot launch a hang gider. Accoring to my log it had been 980 days since my last foot launch which took place at Smithsburg on Saturday, November 30, 2002. In a way it's just like riding a bike, you never really forget. But, given my track record with analogies (see previous paragraph) on the wild chance that I had forgotten, it would be better to discover that on a training hill rather than a mountain. I got to the top, waited for a good cycle, yelled clear, ran forward, leaned into my run as every muscle committed to the project and had a nice clean launch.
I floated over the park trying to look as cool as the paragliders, pulled in for speed as I drifted lower, made it to the bottom parking lot got gusted by the cross and the turbulence down there and had a less than stellar landing. I was on my feet but that was it as far as the positives went. There was a cross from the north down there and I had not adequately adjusted for it. I planned to do better next time and started making my way back to the top.
This is where it starts to get weird. I stopped to rest at the base of the hill where my family was sitting in the shade enjoying the day. A few other people were hanging out in that area also and when I stopped a guy named Mike started talking to me. He said he had taken a few lessons with Richard in the past then he offered to carry my glider back up the hill.
I was a little apprehensive as I wasn't sure he would know how to do that. But of course I told him that would be great and got out of his way. He climbed under the control frame, wedged his shoulders between the downtubes like a pro, lifted with his legs and started up the hill. I couldn't believe what was happening.
On the way up I was trying to understand what was going on. After a few minutes of trying to keep up with Mike, I figured it out. There is only one possible explanation because this kind of thing simply doesn't happen. At least not to 40 year old male pilots. Obviously, my landing had been worse than I thought because rather than walking away with a plan to do better next time, I must have been killed and now I'm in hang glider pilot heaven.
A few things bothered me as this was not exactly the hang glider pilot heaven I had envisioned. There was the glider porter and that was great, but it was still very hot. Not only that but the next few launches did not climb directly to cloud base which I think would always happen in hang glider heaven. Then there were the groupies, or rather, the almost total lack of them. What few that appeared were all sweaty guys just like me. Not exactly what I expect to find in hang glider pilot heaven.
Unstopped by the confusion, I launched again. Another nice clean launch and a better, while not yet perfect landing in the lower parking lot. Maybe I just need to carry more speed to combat the funky air of the lz. Next time I'll be sure to do that.
When I stopped near my family again, there was Mike. Who after some additional chatting, offered to sherpa for me again!
Of course I let him and up we went. I had begun to think that while hang glider heaven may not be exactly what I anticipated, it's still pretty good because I'm not carrying my own glider back up the hill.My third launch was also clean and I tried to carry more speed into the lower parking lot. My plan worked, sort of. Remember the cross from the north that I didn't really account for during my first flight? Had I done that as well as carried more speed then I may have had a landing that John would have used as an example to his students. Instead, my extra speed carried me further toward the road a into the turbulence of the tree line. I remember being upright and feeling the glider thinking, almost time to flare, almost, almost, slam, I was skidding across the gravel strewn ground. Come to think of it, John may have used my landing as an example to his students.
I was ok. My wheels saved me again. The only damage was to the skin on my knees which was minor but continues to be annoyingly painful. (Note to self: break out the knee pads.)
It was clear that I was not in hang glider pilot heaven. Mike was probably just a nice guy who offered to participate in the sport the only way he could. After talking to him I'm sure he'll be back with us someday and this time he'll stay.
Note to Observers: Contrary to the tone of this story, I really can land a hang glider. And don't be put off by the knee pads.
