Flying Safe

Copyright ©2010 iStockphoto LP

I say this a lot. "Fly safe."* 

I think this a lot too.  You see, I've never considered having an accident as a reasonable possibility, as long as I "Fly Safe."

I began my flying life at 15, in sailplanes.  I was a skull-full-o-mush, as all 15ers are.  In order to afford my flying lessons, I became the 'airport kid' and worked around the airport - fueling airplanes, working the launch line, cleaning bathrooms etc; and I learned a lot watching the many pilots come and go.  Soon I was towing gliders with a Super-Cub and flying glider rides and intro-lessons.  All the while I was observing other pilots - noticing their different styles and techniques.

I developed an indelible image of the difference between a good pilot  and one who thought he was good.  The 'wanker' assumed he could overcome all variables - but never took the time to think them through.  The good pilots always considered the variables and made sure that the sum added up to a safe operation.  I'm convinced that this lesson saved my life - often - as I negotiated my early flying escapades while experiencing the insanity of puberty.  Applying this lesson has kept me alive during the ensuing 40 years and 25000+ hours.  I've made being a "safe" pilot priority one.  

National Air and Space Museum- Smithsonian Institution

Don't get me wrong - I did my share of stunts, over the early years, and I'm not dumb enough to list them here.  But I've always - even when doing things that I knew were on the fringe of stupid - considered the variables and made an effort to make the right call.  I've NOT done many stunts that just didn't pass my 'safe' test.  


You've all experienced 'Intermediate Syndrome.'  This is a kind of temporary insanity that many experience when they get just enough knowledge and comfort in their abilities to forget about "Flying Safe."
To my chagrin, I experienced a brief Intermediate Syndrome, in paragliders, just before I turned 50, and it resulted in injury.  It took five broken ribs to remind me that paragliders are not toys - they are aircraft that need the respect and consideration given to any other kind of aircraft.

For the last 30 years I've made a living flying airliners.  The most important job of an airline pilot is to consider the many, many, variables and still provide a safe, boring flight to his passengers and crew.  It's hard for me to fly my paraglider with a different mind-set than I do my 747. . . Does that mean that I never fly when conditions aren't optimal?  NO.  Just as in my airline career, I have flown in conditions that pushed (but never exceeded) my experience and aircraft performance.  The secret to increasing your experience level, and comfort in unfamiliar situations, is to do it in baby steps.  It takes time and experience.

So, ask yourself, "Do you Fly Safe?"

What does it mean to "Fly Safe?"

MY definition of a safe pilot is one who I would allow to fly with my family aboard.  Before making the determination of a pilot's "safety," I look at his/her competence and knowledge (experience); mental state; and  motivation on the flight.

• Does the pilot have the experience to fly in the conditions that exist presently and those that may occur during the flight?
• Is the pilot experienced enough to anticipate problems and avoid/compensate for these problems?
• Is the pilot thoughtful in planning the flight and aware of the responsibilities she is assuming?
• Is the pilot's competency on that aircraft type sufficient?

We have to remind ourselves that there is an important passenger on board, even when we are flying alone ;-)

So, do we "Fly Safe"?

From the standpoint of flying paragliders in Cross-Country events, when I answer that question honestly, I must admit that there are times it appears that I could have flown with more safety.  When I am on a XC flight and get low on the terrain to pull out a save;  When I explore the lee to contact a booming lee-side thermal; When conditions at launch are *sketchy-but-flyable* and I decide to launch before it gets worse;  All of these situations are second-guessable.  The important factor is that I am aware that the safety margins may have been reduced in these situations but, after weighing the applicable variables, have decided it is, indeed, safe.

I know that this appears hypocritical - "It's OK to do dumb things as long as you realize they are dumb."
That's NOT the takeaway here.

What I'm saying is, in the dynamic world of aviation, awareness of your risk at all times, and weighing all the variables, is imperative.  To blindly dive into the lee without a consideration given to the consequences, is idiotic - to fly into the lee after considering the sun angle, winds, and plan of retreat, is "Flying Safe."

In a sport where the prize monies are paltry; the fame is but momentary; and the bragging rights only last for the weekend; ask yourself, "How much are you really willing to dip outside your safety envelope to win a task?"

Answer that question honestly, when in the heat of competition, and you'll know my mindset while competing. Consideration of your risk/reward when it's important is the key.

At the moment I have four friends in physical rehab after flying accidents that occurred while pushing the limits of safety.  I'm sure each of them has a different perspective on the risk/reward calculation than they had prior to pounding.  Please consider their outcomes and daily struggles when you are making critical safety decisions in the heat of battle -
Fly Safe -
Tim
*Even though it's improper English, I live with it.

Aftermath of a fall - This one turned out well.

White Mountains in the Owens Valley -
Click photo for larger version - Photos by Jay Gordon

None of us wants to leave a three-day flying weekend knowing that we are leaving one of our own injured and alone in the mountains. We all want, even less, to be that guy.

This weekend, at the Nor-Cal XC league event; three days of flying geared towards new and improving XC pilots, one of our experienced pilots found himself down in the White mountains at around 2:30 pm and spent 12 hours lying injured on the hill, awaiting rescue.

I've heard words of surprise from some of my fellow pilots, that it took so long to get him to the hospital, but I was actually VERY IMPRESSED that the efforts of many culminated in the successful resolution of this event.

Let's work through the timeline of the event -

• Shortly after 14:00 the crash occurs at 11,000' in the Whites. No radio call is made by PilotX. No phone call is made by the pilot. It is not known if he was conscious or not.
• One of our group happens to be flying in a position where he can see this area of the White Mountains (which is approx. 1 mile East of flight tracks of those flying the task that day.)
• The pilot who knew the position of PilotX and another of our group, who had a private aircraft, fly over the crash site to verify the position of the victim and verify if he is injured.

This is the point where I got involved; Just back from goal, with no idea what's up– around 16:10.

• Once we had verification that he was on the hill and injured, with an accurate position, I called 911 to get to the local SAR teams mobilized.  (I had just been talking to the Mono Sheriff SAR Sargent, 2 days earlier, and actually had asked him the best way to alert them to a problem like this - 911 was the answer) 
• Stephan & I worked with the SAR coordinator and the ball started rolling by 16:30. Sunset is 1800 – I don't say it, but I know the odds are good that PilotX may be spending the night.
• The next 5 hours are spent getting SAR volunteers mobilized and up to the Barcroft Research facility. Once there, it was a 2.5 mile hike – in the dark – in tough terrain, with a couple steep canyons to enter/exit/work around (you get the picture – it took them a while to hike with their 50 lb. packs of med gear and technical equipment. They get to PilotX at 1am.
• It takes a while to assess, stabilize, immobilize, and package PilotX for carry-out to a suitable LZ for the chopper, which has been dispatched from NAS Fallon (200 miles away). The Navy pilots are using IR gear to navigate at 11,000' in the terrain – it ain't easy flying – RESPECT.
• By 3am I get word that PilotX will be arriving at the hospital in Bishop for evaluation. I get word at 5 am that he is going to be transported to Stanford by air, at 7am
  
  
  
  Why did it take 12 hours? Well, we got lucky on this one – that's why.
  

• BECAUSE one of our pilots spotted the crash, and
• BECAUSE another of our group had an airplane to view the scene and pinpoint the position, and
• EVEN THOUGH no radio or cell contact was made for hours, and
• EVEN THOUGH PilotX had no survival gear accessible, and
• EVEN THOUGH PilotX had not a single light source – NOT ONE. and
• BECAUSE the weather in the area was the warmest September 27th in history,
  
  
  
  This one turned out well.

This situation, if things hadn't gone well, could have easily been a body extraction, folks. 

You simply can't find someone in a mountain range, this big, without some hints.

Even though PilotX's injuries weren't life threatening, he was incapable of hiking out and had no survival gear with which to buy time to allow for rescue

The guys hiking into the site would have arrived sooner if they'd had the ability to see his position with a strobe light or headlamp. A SPOT would have been a valuable aid to pinpoint PilotX's last known position and to get rescue started in a timely manner. (I'll just go on record now – if I go missing, use my SPOT page on my blog & you'll see where I'm laid out.)

Yup, we got very lucky on this one.  Please carry some gear.  I carry a spare radio battery. I carry a AA power source for my cell-phone,  I carry a strobe light and a headlamp.  I carry enough clothing that I could spend the night on the hill.  A SPOT is cheap insurance.  If the crap slaps the fan, at least put the odds on your side that you'll live long enough to get rescued.

If you fly XC anywhere, even in the Dunlap valley, and you don't carry some survival stuff that is accessible while sitting injured, IN YOUR HARNESS,  then you are the intelligence equivalent of the idiot that hikes into the Grand Canyon in flip-flops, carrying a diet pepsi. Please don't be that guy.

It's not like I haven't preached about this before – My article about survival strategies and a DIY survival kit was in the USHPA mag a while back.  It's available at http://biggovtsucks.blogspot.com/p/articles-by-tim.html. EDIT: I've had some input from the NAS Fallon helo crew, and they recommend carrying Lite Sticks (red is best) in our survival kits.

The 2010 XC season is almost over for us in the Northern Hemisphere, so take some time and make a survival kit. I hope you'll never need to use it.  But if I'm coordinating your rescue, I'll rest easier knowing that you have a light source, water, warmth, and can communicate. I'd also like to send a word of Thanks to the Mono County Sheriff's Dept. and their volunteer team of SAR team members who gave up a nice warm bed to help one of our guys. Fly Safe, Tim

Once again - Why We Fly

I fly with some cool guys at work.  They have been flying their whole lives and have reached a level in aviation where over 350 people trust them with their lives.  But when these professional pilots find out that I fly these crazy non-structured wings, at high altitudes and for 70+ miles, they are a bit put off.  "How can you risk your life for something so trivial?" they ask -

Well, as I've written here before, I need to get into the air as much as I need to breath the stuff.  It's not a rational thing.  I'm comfortable that I am acquiescing to the irrational.  An artist does the same when he allows his strokes to be spontaneous.  A potter does the same when he whacks an otherwise symmetrical pot to make it unique.  I fly paragliders because they give me wings; and who among us haven't had dreams of flying unencumbered by the limitations of wakefulness.

I just came across a great video that expresses the obsession of paragliding well.  I share in this pilot's addiction, to his fears that one day, I too will be unable to feel the freedom and exhilaration of foot-launched free flight.  "I fly, because I can."



YouTube Link - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-r7zKMo3-eA
Fly safe -

Tim

Paragliding and Life -

The '09 XC competition season is essentially over. I have one long weekend in October scheduled for the last BAPA event in the Owens Valley. So I'm back to watching XC Skies and hoping for good flying weather when friends are available and family events allow. I think it is very easy to forget the impact that my activities can have on others. I need to remind myself to be thoughtful of my family, and my wife in particular. Because paragliding is time intensive, and not the most audience friendly sport, I've purposely avoided dragging my wife to the dry, sometimes desolate locations we often site our competitions. For this reason, I spend weeks on the road at comps without the company of my favorite person. Next year I hope to take Mary along on one of the trips to Oregon or Washington, so she can enjoy some of the local sights while I'm out flying with my buddies. . .

I received an email from someone recently that reminded me that simply filling the skies with our colorful wings can have a positive impact on the daily lives of people held firmly to the ground. Sometimes I forget that what we do is, for lack of a better adjective, 'special'. It sometimes takes an exuberant outburst in a retrieve van by Nate Scales, exclaiming, "How COOL is this?! We FLEW today - UP THERE!" to remind me how. . .'Special' what we do can be.
Anyway - Here is the email I received during the US Nationals in Provo, Utah, edited a bit for brevity -

It's going on 3 a.m. and I'm enthralled with your blog and website. I can't wait to see more, read more, and share it with my family. By way of explanation and introduction into my life, my sister, 80 year old Mother, and I live down on Canyon Road in Provo. Our condo has a patio with a straight shot at Squaw Peak. Everyday I spend time with my Mother on the patio enjoying the beauty of Squaw Peak. This week has been a new and incredible journey for us as we view the paragliders. My Dad is buried half way between us and where you are launching in a cemetery that you probably see from the sky. So we put the dog in the car and ride up the hill to the cemetery for a better view. Thursday we saw a big black bird following a couple of you around and around. I wonder if that was you!

Anyway, what I do want you to know is that you and your fellow fliers have brought a lot of joy to some people that you don't know. My Mom is one of them. Her days become very long, and I find that the smallest things give her much happiness. This week I can't wait to hear her call me from the patio saying, "Barbara, come quick. You'll never believe this sight. The sky is dotted with color!!" Then I know that it's time for the paragliders, and we have a new afternoon to enjoy and take in the beauty. Thank you for providing us with wonderment everyday this week. Next week should prove to be pretty boring!

Another person that you have brought happiness to is my friend that lives across the street. His name is Paul, and he is in his 40's and is dying of liver cancer. As we watched you the other day he made the statement, "I would much rather die flying around like that and feeling freedom than I would from cancer." I asked him if paragliding is something that he would put in his "bucket list". He said that he'd love to do it, but medical bills, child support, and being on disability does not allow for that type of a bucket list. He said that he has loved watching the paragliding this week, and that it has given him a sense of freedom in his mind. Paul doesn't know it, but I'm going to check around with some people here in the condos and see if they want to put some money together to give him a tandem ride or something like that at the point of the mountain. I don't even know if there is such a thing, but I'm going to check it out.

Oh my goodness - all I meant to say in this email was thank you for the information, and we hope to come up on Friday or Saturday. It would be wonderful to find you and shake your hand. By the way, I sent emails to the TV stations and the newspapers. Haven't received a reply, but at least I tried.

Thanks for reading my ramblings. I hope you have perfect weather on Friday and Saturday, and I hope that you have much success in the competition. Thank you again for your kind reply. And thank you for adding to the beauty of the earth and touching the lives of those that you don't even know. That is a measure of success.

Fly safe,
Barbara J.

I responded with this:

Dear Barbara -


Thanks for that great note Barbara. I hope you and your mother were able to get a good view of the action on Friday and Saturday. We had a fantastic week of flying - flew 7 out of 7 days, which is unheard of in most competitions due to weather.


It is great to hear that our activities can positively affect others. One of the hardest things to convey to 'non-flyers' is the joy and freedom that we feel when we are flying a cross-country flight. Paragliders are flying machines with no structure other than the rigidity of our own bodies. The wing is moving with the undulations of the air and we fly reactively, like a bird does when he alters his feathers to compensate to changes in airflow. We actually 'touch' the air and use the information we derive tactily to find lift and continue our flight. This joy we feel is an individual, isolated joy, that is seldom shared with others. I often feel that the sport is selfish in some ways because the amazing benefits and joy I get out of the sport are often viewed to be trivial to those that don't share the experience. The fact that you and others have derived some level of appreciation for our activities brings me an additional layer of joy.


I think your effort to get your neighbor, Paul, a paraglider ride is admirable. I have forwarded your email to a couple of instructors I know who enjoyed reading it and also value the sentiments. Go to the North launch at Point of the Mountain any weekend and you will see as many as 30 wings being kited and flown in a family picnic atmosphere.


Thanks again for the note and I hope your mother doesn't find the beauty outside her back porch to be too boring now that we have flown to other sites.


Tailwinds,
Tim O'Neill

So, Fly safe & spread the Joy!

Tim

Good Karma Weekend - BAPA Weekend in Dunlap

CLICK ON PHOTOS FOR LARGER VERSION

Imagine this: Your adventure today is to get dropped off somewhere, 20 miles away from home, and get back using your cunning, charms, and skill. . . or bribery – if necessary. This drop off point may be far from a main road; may even be in a pasture far from the farm house (which might be deserted). You won’t even know what the name of the road is, and cell service is doubtful. . . Sound like fun? That is how every cross country paraglider flight may turn out. Often, the real adventures are the events that occur after we land. Sometimes it is less than fun. Sometimes you see the best in people and really enjoy the process – it helps if you have good karma. That’s the way this weekend worked out for me.

This weekend had some of the SoCal crew joining the BAPA XC league regulars in Dunlap. The weather was stellar; great cumulus cloud streets to indicate likely lift sources and very light West winds. The only overdevelopment was East, over the high Sierra, so it was not a factor - perfect weather for XC.

The flying was fun and ‘active’ due to some very strong edges to the thermal cores. I saw my wing do things that I hadn’t seen before – occasionally accordioning and bending midspan in ways that were just ‘wrong.’ I told myself that if I didn’t look up – all was well. The views of the wing aside, nothing scary or uncomfortable occurred and the flying was a lot of fun. That said – My flying basically sucked. My decision making still put me in holes that I had to climb out of and slowed me down. I also landed well short of goal both days.

Saturday’s task was a lap around the Dunlap valley, then out 180 to the pizza joint, then South to Woodlake. I made it into Squaw Valley and decided to fly along a cloud-street that bordered on a stretch of remote country. I did my best but had to land in a field at the South East end of Drum Valley. I actually had landed in this field a couple years ago and hiked about 5 miles before a retrieve driver picked me up. No such retrieve drivers were coming on this trip though. Here’s where the first bout of good karma kicked in:

The ranch I landed at is a full eleven miles from the main road. There was one person within 11 miles of me, when I landed, and he offered a ride into Orosi. He was going to leave until he saw me land, so he waited 15 minutes until I hiked out of the field. His dog, an Aussie Sheppard, named Murphy, kept me company while I packed up. As it turns out, Mike owns the ranch but is working in Sacramento in the Schwartsnegger cabinet. He’s the head man in the state when it comes to State natural resources (parks, water, minerals, etc.) Mike gave me a ride all the way to Orosi. It was an interesting conversation during the ride into town. There I met up with Jay and Shad and we went looking for other pilots. Good karma to them.

The task on Sun. was a leg from Dunlap to Orosi, then up Hwy 63 to the 180 junction, back to launch, then to the ranger station. Josh C. was very patient on Sunday and waited for the gaggle to form before starting his transitions. He basically ran a clinic for a few of us by throttling back. I was with him until a few Km short of the Orosi turnpoint when I managed to find a sink-hole that put me on the deck East of Orosi – 20+ miles from my truck.

Five minutes after getting to the road, a pickup stopped and the driver asked me where I was going. “North,” I said. He asked where I wanted to end up. “My truck is at the Dunlap Community Center.” I responded. “Well, hell’s bells hop in!” he yells, “I’m going to Dunlap myself . . . But I’m drinkin’ beer, ya OK with that?” “SHEYA” I responded, not realizing how many had come before the one in his hand. We (his name was Dean) made a stop in Orange Cove for some kick-ass burritos and then he dropped me off at my truck 40 minutes later. Here’s hoping your back surgery goes well in July, Dean.

I must be living right because both of these retrieves could have been 4 hour fiascos. Instead they were efficient, quick, and enjoyable. If you are ever driving along, and you see a guy next to the road with a floppy hat, sunburned nose, big-bag, neoprene purse, and hard to read sign that says “GLIDER PILOT NEEDS RIDE”, stop and pick me up. Your adventure will be part of mine – hopefully you will enjoy your adventures as much as I do mine.

My flights are HERE

U.S. Nat's Video

Here's a video I put together that shows what it's like when thermalling with 70 other pilots before the start of the task. The video also has shots of many of the competitors and podium shots of the winners. Thanks to Aaron Beck and Dean Stratton for sharing their photos.

For the best quality version you can right-click and save the .WMV file at the bottom right corner of the Vimeo Page.

2009 U.S. Paragliding Nats - Dunlap, CA from Tim O'Neill on Vimeo.

Musings

Everyone who lives dies, yet not everyone who dies, has lived. We take these risks not to escape life, but to prevent life escaping us.

One of my fellow PG Forumers has this as his tagline. I like it, even if it sounds a bit trite. At the age of 53, I'm probably ripe for a midlife 'crisis' of some kind, but there are no Harleys, affairs with 25-yr-olds, or tattoos in my near future. I imagine that's because I still feel alive and young enough that death is either going to come spectacularly, or much later on. . .

I guess you could call me a flyer - I've flown some form of aircraft since I was 14 yrs old. For the last 35 years I've made my living flying airplanes. Now, as a 747 pilot I'm more of a manager and less of a pilot. I fly 15 hour international flights that guarantee that I will be tired when making the approach and landing. For that reason, I employ automation and procedures to minimize the opportunity for error. I guess that's why I fly these crazy paraglider competitions.

My slick little paraglider is undoubtedly the lowest performance aircraft I've ever flown - although flying one is the closest thing to spreading my wings and just flying. Paragliders are the easiest aircraft to learn to fly but they take quite a while to learn to fly well. And flying cross country flights is very challenging. I think the challenge is where it's at for me. The focusing nature of being no more than 20 minutes from landing, unless you find lift, keeps me consumed in concentration until I cross the goal line. As I've said before, this sport can seem very trivial to those that 'don't get it' - and I understand. It's just like me 'not getting' why somebody would want to collect Beany Babies . . .

But it doesn't make the impact on my life any less that you, or my wife, don't understand why I do it. My wife does understand (from experience) that if I don't get to fly for a week or two, I get edgy and restless. And I think that she intuitively understands that I need to get into the air - as much as I need to breath the stuff.

What's my point? I don't know, really. I just had my 15 yr. old hound-dog put out of his misery this week. . . He lived a full life and crawled into the garden to die under his favorite tree. I think he was satisfied with his life and lived until he was ready to die. I wish the same for us all.

Tim

Another fun day at Cayucos

Today was another glorious day at Cayucos. I really prefer higher flights, but it's hard not to appreciate the chance to fly over such spectacular beauty on such a great day with my friends.


Another Beautiful Day to Paraglide at Cayucos from Tim O'Neill on Vimeo.

Tim

World Championship Risks & Rewards

What does it take to compete on the international stage in sport?

Years of preparation?
Commitment?
Top performance equipment?
Risking Life & Limb?

All of the above.

Today a pilot died while competing at the Paragliding World Championships in Valle de Bravo Mexico. This is a very sad event and an indication of what each pilot who competes at this level of paragliding competition must keep in the back of his/her mind.

While I like to tell my friends that XC paragliding is the activity I derive the most enjoyment and reward from, I understand the risks. My risk/reward assessment allows me to continue to fly with confidence and enthusiasm. I do have control of some of the factors: My currency, my familiarity with the area, wing characteristics & safety, the forecast weather. Those risks that I can't control, I minimize or avoid. But many risks are not visible or creep up stealthily.

Mark Hayman says it very well in a recent blog post from the worlds: (written days before the fatality)

"To put it bluntly, top competition pilots in general and particularly competition paraglider pilots are just not normal. Does anybody think that leaping from a hill into angry conditions with your safety assured by 7 kilos of marginally stable sail cloth which at any moment could decide to stop flying, is normal? Let’s face it, most Olympic Athletes or indeed most competitive sports people do not run a very significant risk of death or serious injury each time they participate in their chosen sport. The only things that spring to mind are some forms of motor sport and a few ‘extreme’ sports. In spite of recent advances in equipment and organisation I rarely do a competition where somebody doesn’t ’smack in’, often with quite serious consequences. The fact that we, as pilots, accept this means we are not in any way a ‘normal’ cross section of the population at large. In fact we are pretty weird as far as I can see.
...
So the point I’m making is that the very top guys in a sport where the risk of death or disablement are so high are unlikely to conform to social norms. If they’ve survived the day, they’re likely to drink, smoke or engage in other frowned upon behaviours. If they were unable to control these behaviours and were flying whilst unfit then Darwinian Forces would have removed them from the gene pool long before they’d amassed the thousands of hours flying necessary to be chosen for a National Team and compete in the World Championships."

Mark, in my opinion, does a reasonable job of describing the risks of Top-Level Paragliding XC competition.

Now, let's look at the reward side of the docket:

How many seven figure baseball, cricket, football, players risk life & limb to win? If they did risk it all, and for no money - just the thrill of the game, do you think the same guys would be doing it?

The group I 'hang' with, competitive XC pilots, risk all they are willing to (and more, that is often out of their control) for little or no money. We fly and compete for the thrill and experience and camaraderie. It's not just a hobby. It is the activity we do that somehow gives perspective to the rest of our lives.

So - Today we are one less. A fellow flier has flown his last flight. I hope that the thermals are fat and smooth in the after. I know why he flew and why he accepted the risks. I understand.

Tim

Diversions

It has been WAY too long since I was in the air. My wing hasn't left the pack in over 3 weeks! I have a new line-set for the Avax XC2 coming from Czechoslovakia and I know that as soon as it arrives I will have some good flying days.

Here's a bit of pilot-porn for you -


Streamlined 08 from Team Silver on Vimeo.

Timo

Happy Thanksgiving

Here's a bit of a happy tale for you -

I hope you find yourselves in the company of loved ones during the holiday season.

Tim

Original posting was from the NationalReview.com

This is a good story. If a tear comes to your eyes — it's OK.

By Catherine Moore

'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'

'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog.'

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. 'I'll take him,' I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'

'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.

Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter … his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father … and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

Please share this with someone.

U.S. Paragliding Nat'ls - Day 4 - Task 2

Today we drove to the Gunter launch on the White range. This launch is at 8300' (2524M) and provided a very nice open area,if a bit bushy, for us to lay out & launch. The weather cooperated well - light Southerly winds and good lapse rates & enough moisture to provide some nice clouds. Cloud base during the day was around 15,000'. Any threat of overdeveloping was soon dismissed.

The task was a run North along the Whites that required a dip to the edge of the valley at MVWHIN and the a straight 75K shot to MINA. Total distance, 110K (68miles)

I launched an hour before the start and climbed out slowly. I was fortunate to have good height at the start - many others were stuck on the terrain trying desperately to get up enough to get away. I headed North with the second gaggle. The lead gaggle was high & moving along the high ground quickly. The second gaggle seemed to disintegrate and I was soon flying alone from thermal to thermal. Sometimes I was the pimp & sometimes I was the pimpee, but I was able to move along quickly with at least half speed bar most of the time.

I seemed to be making good time and staying high until reaching Boundary Peak at North termination of the Whites. As I crossed over the Western spine of the peak I saw a paraglider under reserve drifting down onto the peak. He 'landed' just below the tree line at around 11,000'. HERE is his Google Earth landing spot. I announced the toss & tried to raise the pilot but was unable to. About this time, I encountered the trashy air that precipitated the toss & had my hands full. I took a GPS fix, in case the pilot needed extraction & then set about flying my wing. . . I was down to 10,000' by now & needed some lift. I had hooked into a nice 800'/min. thermal when I heard Chris K. on the radio, announcing he was OK. It was good to hear his call & I was able to concentrate on my flight to Mina again. I'm sure Chris has a interesting story to tell tomorrow.

This climb allowed me to kick the bar some more and I was soon surprised to see a gaggle of comp gliders ahead and below me. As I approached them, I realized this was the lead gaggle! I came in on top & soon was circling with them in weak scattered lift. It soon felt a lot like gaggle suck to me & I had the slowest wing in the gaggle so I made the decision to push things a bit & head out. I climbed for a while but left with 10.6:1 glide to goal (20 km away) knowing I would probably need a short climb to make goal. As I pointed at goal, I knew this decision would either put me in goal fast, or put me on the deck trying. To make matters a bit more dicey, 90% of the ground was in shadow from cloud so I was hoping for lift in an unlikely patch. . .

I watched the required glide ratio to goal and decided to take the next bit of lift I could find, until I indicated 8:1 required. I found a small 350'/min. thermal & stayed with it until I had goal made & headed the last 10 km on 1/2 bar. Quite a few guys passed me on the final glide, but hey - it's a thrill for me just to be in a position where I can see the winner cross the goal line! I finished 6th in the Serial Class & 16th overall for the day. There were 42 in goal and it was a great day of flying with lots of buddies in goal. I must be getting acclimated because I don't have the fatigue problem I had after the first task. Flying without O2 made me keep my climbs below 15,000' but wasn't really an issue today.

Tomorrow looks like similar conditions so we may go big again. So far, in three flights, I've flown 12:47 & 327KM (203 miles) and we still have three days to go!

I'm not sure of the results for today - Results will be HERE.

My flight is HERE.

2008 U.S. Nat's Day 0 - Practice Day (EPIC)

WOW - A great day of flying today. Jug, Tom, Jack, Nick, Gary & I all headed to Walt's today for a warm-up flight before the comp begins tomorrow. The forecast was for very light winds at all altitudes with an Easterly component. This combination made the choice of Walt's (on the Sierra side of the Owens Valley) one that made sense. It also had the added lure that none of us, except Tom, had launched from that side before. The plan was to head for Bishop, about 60 miles up-range from launch.
I launched second and found lift very quickly. I have no oxygen system for the week so my plan was to see how my body reacted to climbs to 13500-14500'. For the first 15-20 miles I climbed to 13,500' & left the lift to go on glide until I was 12,000' & then take climbs again to 13,500'. I basically pointed the glider North, climbed when it made sense, glided along the Eastern side of the sierras on one of the most enjoyable flights ever. The scenery was amazing. I've flown the Owens before, but never this side. Mt Whitney and the associated pinnacles were unbelievable. My photos don't do the views justice, but may give an idea of the scale of the landscape.An early gaggle launched an hour or so ahead of us & some of these guys flew 100 miles. Our group split up & most landed 15 miles S. of Bishop in Big Pine. I was able to make it to Bishop & landed next to 395 in a nice field. Roger Marsh was just driving into town (from San Diego) & stopped to give me a ride - Thanks Roger!

A great day with a 68 mile flight. I hope the conditions continue to be so conducive to long, enjoyable flights. My flight is HERE.

Why do we fly?

I often ask others on the hill what they get out of the sport. The answers vary depending on their skill level, experience, and sanity. The common thread seems to be the freedom and perspective that flying like a bird gives one. Here's a short film entitled "Because" that explores why 'we' do what we do. . .

because... from Ozone Films on Vimeo.

If it doesn't load, try this link:
http://because.flyozone.com/en/shortfilm/ or http://vimeo.com/1345187
This short film was created, written, and directed by Jorge Atramiz and Herminio Cordido, the same minds behind the epic film ‘The Never Ending Thermal‘.Whatever your reason or motivation is to fly, enjoy it!

Thanks to Loren for the link to the HiRes version!

My wrist is healing and I should be fine for the Nat's - Sept. 14th-20th. Looking forward to it.

Tim

First flight in Chelan

Saturday was my first day of flying at Chelan and the morning forecast looked doubtful that we would have a good flight, due to gusty winds. We drove up to launch at 1130am to look things over & see how the winds looked. My first thoughts were that the topography of the area is beautiful with the juxtaposition of the calm blue water of the Columbia at the bottom of a 2000' gorge that features amazing vertical rock walls. Once across the Columbia River gorge, in front East of launch, the land is FLAT agricultural land similar to the topography in Killarney AUS.

I was resigned to a local scenic flight. Today & tomorrow are just practice so I wanted a low impact flight to get the lay of the land. The sky was 50% or more covered in high cirro-stratus so the thermal action was dampened. A couple of students launched early & encountered some lift, so I decided to suit up & get off the hill before the mad rush began. I decided to only wear my shorts & a thin summer top & summer gloves, since I was not planning a long-high day.

The launch went well & I soon cored a thermal & got to 6000' (about 2300' over) I didn't want to cross the gorge without 6500' or so, and I didn't want to go alone, so I just boated around at the top of lift for 85 minutes while the launch queue filed into the air. Many were struggling down low so I tried to stay at the top of lift with some success. Finally a bunch of us got up to 6800' and headed across to the East side of the Columbia river gorge. I was looking at the clouds overhead & decided to let the guys on the UP Edges & IcePeaks to fight it out while I just took my time & stayed in the blue band of clouds. This plan worked for quite awhile - I'd stay in the sunny area until the clouds were approaching the sun, then fly on 1/2 to full bar until I approached the edge of the shadows again. Soon I was overflying many pilots who had raced into the shadows & dirted. I didn't have any waypoints loaded in my GPS and no map so I just kept heading East with a few other guys. I was freezing my butt off at 10000' in my shorts, but it was great to have the altitude.

Soon it was just me, Nick G. and Amir (on an XC2 also) heading for the Grand Culee Dam. I got a bit ahead & contacted Babush for a while as we headed Northeast. After 4 hours I was cold, hungry, sunburned & had a bladder stretched to its limits, so I decided to join Babush, Nick, and soon, Eric R. in a nice field. 10 minutes after getting to the road, Nick negotiated a ride back to within 15 miles of Chelan with a gun-toten, Wild Turkey drinkin' local guy for three of us. Tom picked us up in Brewster and we got back to camp around 7pm. It was a full day ;-)

Total distance 84 kilometers (51 miles)- not a bad first flight in Chelan. The comp begins Monday. My flight can be viewed HERE

For grins I'll be SPOT-Casting along the routes this week - You can see my progress by going to MY SPOT PAGE (WHICH I THINK ONLY SHOWS THE LAST 24 HOURS)

The crowd is starting to grow & it looks like it will be a fun week.

Tailwinds,
Tim

Lessons from the WCPC

This Blog Entry has been edited for inclusion in the 2008 Rat Race Book. It is now an article entitled "Lessons I've Learned From my First Few Comps" and can be downloaded HERE

I got home late last night after a 10 hour drive. The pop-up trailer was very comfortable and made the week of flying enjoyable. . . I figure that having the 20-yr-old camper saved me approximately $700 over the 9 days I was in Jacksonville. I ate well & had fresh, strong coffee each morning while laying in my bed - Life was good, even when the temps dropped to 40F at night.

The flying at Woodrat was classic Rat. Nice buoyant areas of convergence that are accompanied by strong (sometimes nasty) turbulence. The tasks were very well suited to the conditions as they changed over the week. This competition attracted most of the top 50 pilots in the US and I was very happy to watch & learn. Josh, the Erics, Dean, Brad and many others were always willing to offer advice. Jug and I had a lot of fun flying together and watching as our different styles still had us meeting up at the next turnpoint or thermal, wing-tip to tip.

Lessons I learned are below - Some are repeats of lessons listed in prior comps. I never have said that I learn quickly or efficiently - Just that I'm learning. . .

Be ready to launch early. Then Launch early.

I launched at least 35 minutes before, and usually 50 minutes before the start. I am now confident that I can stay in the air if anyone can. This confidence allows me to sample the air, explore the start cylinder for lift, and try to make my own start rather than chase the gaggle.

Get a GOOD START

I had 4 really good starts and a couple of marginal ones this week. A big lesson I learned is that being with the leaders, but low-man, as you cross the valley is not as competitive as being behind and high. Go fast by slowing down if the climbs haven't come at the right time.

Stay with the Gaggle.

It's not easy to stay with the comp wings on my Avax XC2, but I MUST try. If I get dropped, the second gaggle is an excellent place to be. It is easy to drop back (actually let them catch me) to the 2nd gaggle and be the 'high-guy' when they get to my thermal. It is sometimes amazing how close the second gaggle is (in time) to the leaders when getting to goal. More than once this week the leaders raced themselves into the ground, allowing the next batch of gliders to tip-toe through the weak patch & make goal.

Don't get low - or alone.

My two worst moments were the desperate last ten minutes of flights where I hadn't heeded the prior rules. I found myself low & alone. Without help, the chances of finding a low save are very small. It's all about making high probability decisions. - Even bold moves must be done with good odds. It's like playing poker & knowing all the odds - Going all-in looks bold to someone who doesn't realize the hands showing are in your favor 75% to 25%.

Don't Give up - Until it's time to give up.

On the last task I had goal almost made. I glided into Boaz Peak low, hoping to get to the 1k circle and then glide into the goal cylinder 1.75k (about a mile)away. As it turned out, I turned away from the 1k cylinder with 750 feet to go because I was heading downwind, into steeply rising terrain, in crap air, and I heard my inner voice say, "Tim - You are not going to get extra attention from the ladies, or rich, or famous, if you make this turnpoint. Do what's smart & fly the jet." So I did what I knew I should, turned & made a safe landing on my terms in a nice field. No fame ;-) but I get to fly another day. If I'd pushed it, I might have made goal, but it would have put me in 24th place overall, instead of 27th - worth it when the down-side was ugly? Nope. . .

As it was, I landed about 100 meters from where Marty had thrown his laundry when his wing went away at 50 meters in the air. He used up some luck & walked away unscathed. His luck was compounded when he made goal by a couple feet while he hung in the tree! Welcome to the Caterpillar Club Marty.

To summarize - I'm learning the game. Fly fast enough to stay with the gaggle but be ready to change gears and slow down when conditions warrant. My speed system was not set-up to allow me full bar & this hurt at times. A.J. flew his 2/3 with the comp wings by aggressive use of bar & pulled it off day after day. He's an excellent pilot and will go very far.

I had a great time at the WCPC. My flying wasn't as consistent as I'd like, but I am really understanding what's going on. When I make a bad decision, I'm realizing the consequences much sooner than before. I hope to be able to use these lessons to avoid the bad decisions in future flights. On an up note - I felt like I flew really well for portions of a couple tasks. My attention waned, or fatigue set in, or something - but for a while, things were really clicking.

Next comp is the BAPA comp in Dunlap next weekend. Then the Chelan XC Open in Chelan WA.

Stuff

The weather hasn't allowed for much flying for the last 2 weeks. My AVAX XC2 is patiently waiting in its bag for me to give it a chance to fly.

I've taken this opportunity to work on my 1987 Starcraft pop-up tent trailer. This new acquisition is a cheap, comfortable, fun, and convenient answer to the question, "Where are you going to stay during the competition?" The camper can be set-up in 15 minutes and sleeps 4 comfortably and 6 in a pinch. It has a sink, 2-burner propane stove, and a self contained 12v. electrical system. I've spruced up the bunk mattresses so they are as comfortable as any motel. All it needs now is a 12v. blender to make margaritas . . . I plan to spend as many as 24 nights in this rig over the summer.

I've also posted a list (on the right side of the blog) of 'articles' I've written this year.

The first is just a compilation of responses to a thread I started on the PG Forum from competition paraglider pilots who were willing to provide some tips.

The next is an article I wrote for the USHPA magazine, HANG GLIDING AND PARAGLIDING.
It was published a few months ago. It offers some recommendations for survival kits to be carried on XC flights. Yes, I do actually carry what I talk about in the article.

Finally there is a link to a Competino / 5020 Cheat Sheet that I wrote over a year ago. A large number of these integrated GPS/Vario units are on the used market now & maybe, this document will help some of the new users. It was written for the older firmware, but most of the procedural info is still valid.

Tailwinds,
Tim

Happy New Year!

It's 2008, and I'm sitting in Narita on a 6-day trip to Japan & Thailand.

I find myself more inclined to ponder how things are going when I'm alone & away from home. This New Years is no different. I don't make New Years resolutions, but occasionally, I do assess and reflect. 2007 was a tough year for me in some ways. I found myself bitching about my job more than I like. The fact is that I've lost the dream. I'm now resigned to "get on with it" and just do the job. If you were one of my targets for a diatribe - I apologize & hope to not bore you with self-indulgent whining ever again.

This isn't the job it used to be but I'm good at it & it does allow me the time to pursue my passions and spend time with my family & friends. . . even if I'm not always at home when I'd like to be. . . I'm thankful to have the job I've aspired to have since I was 14 years old & started flying.

This New Years I'm very THANKFUL.

Thankful that I have a good woman who allows me to love her & returns the favor.
I aspire to be a kind, supportive mate.

Thankful that I have two great, grown daughters that have made me proud. They are the sum of their parent's parts, and better for it.
I aspire to be a good father to my adult kids.

Thankful for my friends. Friends provide a feedback loop that is reasonable and helpful. . . and sometimes they even buy the beer.
I aspire to be as good a friend to those I have.

Thankful for my passions. My life is filled with activities that occupy my time & fulfill my need to be challenged, enriched, and educated.
I aspire to improve my skills & expand my horizons. To take risks that will stretch me as a person without impinging on any of the above aspirations.

I hope you all have a great 2008!

Tim

Fun Flying

Today was only my second flight since I flew at the SIV clinic in mid October. A couple of weeks ago I had a magical flight at Shell Beach, a beautiful sea-side flying spot that generally depends on on-shore breezes to provide a thin band of lift parallel to the bluffs above the beach. Tom M. launched early in spite of the general negative prognostications of the local experts and was able to stay up so I suited up. I was very lucky & had perfect timing since the wind was freshly blowing on-shore as I launched. Five minutes later it would have been impossible to launch due to the wind switching to a calm or offshore breeze.

What had happened was that a strong convergence line had formed between the on-shore and Santa Ana-like breeze that we experienced inland. As it moved across launch, I was able to just fly the convergence and Tom & I were treated to a beautiful flight that took us to heights unusual for this site. I carried no altimeter, but guess that I hit 1500 to 2000' above the sea. The view was great & a great first flight at the site.

Today we headed up to Cuesta - I had high hopes since my forecast indicated very light winds. Patrick, Eric, Jack, Dave & I all arrived at launch around noon. Eric & Pat launched first & didn't get high, but flew around launch altitude for 15 minutes. They were both able to top-land & wait for things to improve. I was ready to fly & decided it looked soarable, so I launched into a nice gentle cycle. A nice thermal was right off the launch & I went up about 50' right away.

Soon I was touring the ridge looking for any shard of lift I could work. Within 12 minutes I was down to 1200' MSL (about 200' above the pasture) & planning where I would land to minimize the hike-up the hill to launch. The I felt a great bubble of lift & it filled my wing from right to left. As I rolled into my turn, it filled out the whole wing & I climbed back up to launch - much more quickly and easily than if I were to have landed & hiked up. From then on, the day was ON. Lift was everywhere & generally, the down cycles were few & of short duration.

It's not uncommon to fly over the ridge & observe other sportsmen and yahoos in various activities. Today our entertainment was a truckload of mullets, beer, & shotguns, who parked up ridge& proceeded to make clay pigeons into dust. That wasn't the fun part - The fun began when the CHP arrived on scene & showed the proper protocol for approaching multiple guys who have guns. . . all the while I (and others) were lurking quietly above, watching the show ;-)

Anyway, it was a fun day with all of us having good flights. I flew for 2 hours & landed just because everyone else had. The top landing took a couple tries since there was a bullet of a thermal right in front of the spot - but it worked out fine.

Fly Safe.
Tim

Now THIS is cool!

Give it time to load - It's worth it.

This is definitely on my "Before I Die" list.
It's Aiguille du Midi - on Mont Blanc.

http://www.passion-sport.ch/film/Aiguille_Midi.html
if it doesn't load.