XC report to The Gang:

Yep, conditions were a bit strong with the prevailing wind due west. Interestingly, at launch the wind was straight in (which is NNW, as due north is about 15-20 degrees to the right as you gaze out over the valley by my compass). Circumstances like these point out very clearly the need for good, current WINDS ALOFT data! For some topographic reason even when there's a strong east or west component to the prevailing winds, they appear to be NNW to NNE according to the telltales at BW launch. The wind just seems to funnel up to launch! The important thing to understand and consider is that the actual prevailing wind can be significantly STRONGER then is apparent under these conditions! Watch the clouds scudding along above for a good clue to actual prevailing wind conditions. If your cell will work, call New River Valley Airport and get the automated weather report; it gives current, real time conditions.

It turned out I was prepared for this situation as I had the Firebird Flame with me, as opposed to my Ignition. This wing provides better penetration (DHV 2), and as the day wore on I was glad to have it! At launch Kermon broke out his wind meter which quickly indicated a straight in wind speed of 8-12mph with gusts to 15mph+. The situation was such that the cycles were easy to gauge and no sudden gusts presented. No problem to simply wait out a lull and then confidently launch in the face of smooth 10-12mph incoming. No big deal.

Just get off, out, up a bit and the fun begins! You make the natural move: peal to the right with the wind quartering on your left shoulder. Climbing the lift you find immediate confidence. Man, you gotta' flight by the teeth - not just a flat-assed sleigh ride down. Turn left as if to make a pass back across launch. Wham! Dude you are PARKED! I was right there, not moving forward at all with the vario going beep . . . . . . .. beep . . . . . . . beep! Holding my own with zero ground speed - which I thought was a whole lot better than negative ground speed - I noticed a slow, gradual gain in altitude. Loved that gain, but frankly the being "parked" when I turned west was a bit troubling!

Eventually, without effort of any kind, I got to about 200' over and found it was absolutely necessary to crab down the ridge to the north east. It was that, or get gradually pushed back to the ridge top itself (no speed system yet engaged). Nope, I was not in for any of that stuff. I hate the expression (my experience is that people who say they have been there and done that - they ain't been anywhere or done a damn thing). but I have 'been there", and I have "done that" and I didn't like it one damn bit. Got me an intensive Ph.D. level crash course in rotor turb. last year right there at BW . . . and it's still quite fresh in my mind. I didn't quite "crash" but I attribute that largely to the terrific stability of Firebird's Ignition wing. Ben T calls it "bullet proof" and I won't disagree with that description one bit. I liked the wing just fine before that white knuckle experience, but I came away from that day positively loving it! I'd probably be sleeping with it except I'm badly afraid body oils will wear away it's dressing.
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At this point, on my first flight I was spooked by not being able to penetrate to the west, so I called Tim and told him I was outta there, heading on down the ridge. Yes, Tim and Kermon agreed to pick me up, but more about this first little XC later.

What follows below is my second flight at 11:30am.
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This time I knew a bit about what to expect and so I just crabbed enough down the ridge to keep from finding myself over the spine back of BW. I was able to stay pretty much in visual of launch for at least 20min., but I noticed something different from the first flight. Now thermals were beginning to roll in. The cumies were evident to the North and east as far as I could see. I think the winds at launch had picked up a bit (and also my inability to penetrate to the west was a factor!) so Tim and Kermon held back and expressed their willingness to pick me up when I told em' I thought I could cover more ground this time. That was a good call on their part with DHV 1 wings and the conditions as strong as they were. So, off I went again to the NE down the ridge; but quite slowly, just crabbing my way along.

Now as I said before, I was flying the Flame with it's extra speed. I recently purchase it "used" and only had about 4 hours on it. It's a bit twitchier then the Ignition and so the thought of getting blown back took on rather ominous proportions. There were some real nice thermals I'd drift into (several of the 400-600fpm variety) but I didn't dare turn even one 360. It definitely required one's full attention to stay out in front of the ridge and was sure a 360 degree turn would put me on the back side. So, I'd make "S" turns and milk as much gain as possible before crabbing on down the line. At one point I noticed I was just about over the spine and that was pure pucker time. Man, I got on the speed system full tilt and just stretched out and held it for easily a full 5min.'s before I even started to creep back out in front. At this point I was about 650' over and it occurred to me that perhaps that was high enough. So I'd gain a bit, pull some ears, lose a bit and repeat the process . . . all the while just crabbing on down the mountain, drifting in and out of lovely thermals I so much wanted to turn in! Periodically I'd begin to get pushed back and so I'd engage the speed syst. full tilt once more. Note: I did not use "ears" to get out from the ridge; that is a mistake and will NOT work (argue with Chris Santacorce if you disagree). In this situation the wind naturally was stronger the higher up, so I was merely trying to limit my altitude gain in thermals. When I got much above 600' over I would need almost constant speed system and still be parked; a nerve wracking proposition at best.

At what I now know to be about 8 miles down the ridge (thanks to Kermon's new Magellan GPS) I noticed a stretch of valley devoid of LZ's for what seemed at least 2 miles. It was a solid carpet of green all the way from the top of BW to Route 42, which at this point is pretty much clear across the other side of the valley. I'd begun to slowly loose altitude and was only about 450' over (about 1200' over the valley). Having also acquired some "tree experience" in the past I decided to call the XC a done deal and pick a nice field to land in.

Whoops, I found there wasn't a whole lot available; this, mostly because of the strong westerly winds. I had not been thinking far enough ahead. Making this LZ (the last reasonable one for several miles) required crabbing back in a NW direction - a tough job when that means quartering into 20+mph prevailing wind. The field I wanted to land in was sloping from perhaps 200' high on the SE end (my side) down to Route 42 to the north. It was big, long (at least 2 - 300 yards) and very green. A perfect spot. I employed speed for penetration and was making decent progress but the goal was still doubtful because of the strong west wind pretty much in my face. If I'd of started the crabbing out into the valley a thousand yards sooner making the spot would have been easy. As it was the closer I got the more doubtful the issue became.

My only alternative was what appeared to be an ISLAND in the middle of the river. It turned out the river actually oxbowed around this knob of high ground, maybe 10 acres in all. It was not particularly appealing as an alternative LZ, but that was the ONLY alternative LZ. It was lower than the wooded ridge to the west which I'd have to clear to get into my first LZ pick. That meant possible rotor and I was pleased with myself that I was actually factoring that into my "where to land" equation! Also, the three fields on this island where quite small and surrounded by forest on all sides. I'd have to peg in just right - if I got popped up at the last moment there'd be no second chance to set up and try again; I'd be in the damn trees for sure . . . or the river! With that in mind I gave all my attention to the big field which sat in-between the river and Route 42. Hey, looks like this might actually happen!

That is, until about 250 yds out and then the very steep and wooded ridge on the south side of the big field (where it drops abruptly down to the river) began to rise and the sweet looking field began to sink behind it. Damn it all, it's gonna be the "island" or the trees. I didn't like this development one bit, but there was nothing else to do at this point. I'd screwed my self into this situation and I was just gonna have to unscrew the deal. I wang'd hard to the right and came just over the southern side of the island and then pealed back west and WHAP! Yep, there's rotor in them thar hills! WHAP, WHAP and I was just rocking and rolling and trying to stay loose and keep the wing loaded at the same time. I lost 75-100 feet and then the air smoothed out as I dropped down to make my final into the far little field on the north side of the island. I'd noticed earlier on (and that's what made it a 2nd potential LZ to begin with) a small trailer at the south end and a faint road coming out of the trees, which melted into the first small green field. Well then, there just had to be access of some kind in and out of the place. I was thinking there must be a small bridge somewhere, but I didn't see one. This omission wasn't a problem to me though as at the time I was briefly surveying this spot I still hoped to make the big field to the west.

Now folks these fields on the island were SMALL. The two biggest (the smaller in the middle) were about 50yds wide and maybe 75yds long. They were also quite uneven and sloped up and away from me as I headed in for an east to west landing. I noticed a hay rake in the center little field too. Screw that! BUT . . . there was no ragged air, no bounce or pops the last 100ft in and I nailed the last field dead center. Whew! Now, where the hell am I and how do I get out of this obscure little place.

I unharnessed and headed to the north end (it was closest) just to see what I could see. I knew the main road couldn't be more than 500yds or so to north. The problem was how to get to it. I found nothing, not a damn thing on the north end but thick forest and very rocky, rising ground. It was impassable minus a hell of a lot of effort! Just then Kermon or Tim came on the radio. Hot dog's,I have contact! I told em' I had landed on some island on the Big Walker side of the main road. I estimated I was at least 5 miles or so beyond the Almishman's field I'd landed in earlier that day. That was all I knew. I asked them to stay put because we at least had radio contact; I'd pack up and head out to the road, but I didn't know how long that would take. I'd try to make contact every five minutes or so. So, I trudged out to the south across the 3 little fields and entered the woods where I'd seen the road from above. The ground began to slope down and I discovered the trailer about 25 yards in. There was also a pitched tent right next to the trailer but not a soul around as far as I could tell. Frankly I was glad - whoever had this spot sure valued their privacy! I walked on and the road continued to slope down, I suspected to the river. Any minute I was sure I'd spot the little bridge I imagined was built to access this tucked away oasis. Another 50 yds. and I rounded a turn and . . . SHIT . . . the road ran right down and disappeared into the river, which was perhaps 30 yds wide. There was no bridge! Where in the hell have I gotten myself this time??!! The river was shallow however and you could right away see how easy it would be for a 4 wheeler to negotiate. What a place! A real hideaway for sure. I could just imagine bringing the little lady down here and . . . . chillin'.

I gave this situation a little thought before taking the plunge, so to speak. Man, dis gotta' be the main way out. The water didn't bother me (is was about knee deep) but I didn't want to take a false lead and have to back track after who know how long just to get going in the right direction. I thought about directions, what I knew about the geography of the island from the air and the surrounding terrain and yep, this just had to be the way to Route 42. I crossed over with only one near fall on the mossy rocks at the bottom of the crystal clear water. The road picked up on the other side and almost immediately began to climb sharply to the right, paralleling the river for perhaps 75 yds., where it leveled out and pretty much disappeared! Dead ahead was the river again, much wider now. It had veered sharply left. I waked to the edge of the 20ft embankment and to the left (west) was a wooden bridge about 100 yds. away. Ok, now we're getting somewhere! I backtracked to a grassy spot in a semi clearing and here noticed the path actually veered left, but I'd missed it the first time by. It certainly wasn't traveled often. I headed west through the forest and came to a rise and a mild embankment which lead up to a gravel road.

Up I went and I looked north down the gravel road and there was the one lane wooden bridge. Route 42 was just beyond, about 100 yards from where I was standing, but between the bridge and road is this big iron gate! Hell, it's 10 feet high and . . . . . yep, I might can just squeeze around the side of the gate and the bridge to a small wooden fence. I hang on the gate post and slide very carefully around, up, and then over the wooden fence - and that's the end of this here XC.

My two very main men, Kermon and Tim were there in 5 minutes and wow, what excitement! Yes sir, there was plenty of pucker to go around but I'd rather do this then bite the holes out of donuts.
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THE FIRST XC:

Well, I guess I'm in trouble once again!

At aprox. 9:30am - spooked by no penetration heading west - I lit out down BW to the NE and shortly begin to run out of steam. The lift was diminishing and at 150' below launch (about 700' over the valley) I decided to head out and shop LZ's. First I notice a large collection of Almish buildings (I've landed there before and it was really cool; it's the time Tom Tucker and I got swamped by at least 30 Amish kids!). I also noticed some other fields which are surrounded by forest a bit further to the NE down the valley. Land safe first and convenient last, right?! So I pick the Almish site and as I near the buildings I see this huge group of the Almish standing in a perfect circle! Wow, that's interesting; must be 75 of them folks!! Hell, thinks I, "if I sees me a stake in the middle and somebody holding a box of kitchen matches, I'm hauling my ass outta' here as soon my feets hit the ground."

Well, I pick a field just to the NW of the buildings and the strange group of Almish standing in that huge circle. It turned out to be a watermelon field but I couldn't tell that till I'm like 75' off the deck. I pass just 50 yards to the south and perhaps 125' over the group - every single one of em' staring up at me like some God about to descend into their midst - and I of course bid them a very, "good morning, folks." (You see, momma never raised no uncouth bastards!). I land about150 yrds to the west of this group and ball my wing up pronto and walk the 25 yards over to a dirt road.

Now this road leads north up a high spot and then down about 200 yards to the valley road which eventually runs directly in front of Jim Bolgers place and the main LZ. I lay my wing out on the edge of the road and begin sorting rises out. In a very few moments a youngish fella' approaches and invites me to attend their CHURCH SERVICE!!!!! Having not a single thing against these fine folks (and thinking momentarily of the size and intensity of lightning bolts the Good Lord might rain down upon the gathering if they were to harbor a reprobate like myself) I quite naturally declined! Wow, I guess it is Sunday; never even gave that a thought! Sad to say, even at that point yours truly, blockhead extraordinary, is unaware that he may have caused a serious rent in the fabric of local Amish decorum! I explained to the young man that I was myself a true believer, although my comrades were, unfortunately, clearly numbered among the lost sheep of Israel!! No thanks, I'll have to pass because those two heathens . . . er "gentleman" . . . were even then trying to locate me. But thanks for the invite, maybe next time. He left quietly and actually seemed happy at least to know I was a "saved" man. I cocked up an eye and, not noticing any dark clouds, went right on back sorting out risers.

Shortly it occurred to me I'd better run down to the road and snag Tim and Kermon. They saw me coming and turned into the dirt road. They approached and I hopped in back and to my wing we went. I wanted to just kinda' take our time and fold my wing up nice and proper. Well, what the hell could be wrong with that? "Uh, Greg it's Sunday and we're disturbing the church service," say's Kermon! "Common' Greg, lets just ball it up and do the sorting and folding back at Jim's!" I protested, but then Tim pointed out the little faces staring at us in the distance, not praising God or paying attention to their elders. OOOOppps! I got the message at last and agreed to book on out, pronto.

We get back and Jim comes up right away and says, "land in the trees again?" I quite proudly exclaim that wasn't the case; but when I mention about the big Amish conglomeration he say's right off the bat in a voice several octaves higher than normal, "we're gonna' hear about this! Man, on Sunday you just don't disturb them Amish! Man, Randy's gonna' hear about this!"

Well gang, I'm sorry. I don't want to pee on anybody's parade, Amish or otherwise. If I need to make a formal apology I'm happy to do so. At the time I wasn't even aware I could be causing a problem. Won't happen again, ever! I'll take to the trees before I land in any Amishman's field on Sunday!! Yepper, by golly!!

_______________________ THE END.