846 ... Might as well go for a flight.

This morning at 4:47am, my darling bride woke up smelling gasoline.  Fearing for our safety, she prudently woke me up so we could search out the toxic fumes that would  snuff our lives if not discovered.

No obvious culprits presented themselves.  I opened the sliders and we moved to the garage thinking perhaps a fuel can had spilled.    I had my doubts but Dawn was sure the cause of the odor was coming from the bed of my truck.  

Well... There was nothing else to do, I opened the garage and rolled the truck under a clear, calm pre-dawn Sky.  With the offending vehicle out of the house the danger was past, so, Dawn went back inside, and hopefully.....back to bed.  

I climbed up into the back of the truck and checked for a gas spill.  After all,  I had a brand new wing and I'd hate to damage it.

An exhaustive search turned up nothing.  No gas .... No oil ... Just my Paramotor and me under the Stars.  Did I mention that the air was calm and that the sun would be rising soon?  

Total flight time 105 minutes.  

The flight was great.  Unlike yesterday, I had my lucky camera ready to go and even though the wind was out of the East, there was enough of a southerthly element for me to set-up  for a crosswind launch on the runway.   I flew East 9 miles with the trim out and came back crabbing 45 degrees off the wind.

Damn that was nice of her.  Looking out for our safety like that.....

All the way home I thought about rigging something that would emit a strong gas smell about 90 minutes prior to sunrise.  You know..... Something Wireless.

The Gathering at Monument Valley 2013

I packed the truck with everything except the perishables on Monday.  Tuesday was easy, Dawn and I loaded the coolers and were on our way by noon.  We took old Highway 6 instead of I-70 to enjoy the fall colors and avoid the heavy traffic leaving Denver and arrived in Glenwood Springs around twilight.  It  was abnormally quiet,  there was very little traffic and hardly anyone on the streets.  I thought that there might be a big event that had emptied the town, but it turned out that it was just the slack time between summer tourist season and hunting season.  

Slack is good because I had no trouble finding a parking place right in front of The Historic Colorado Hotel and they kindly gave us a room overlooking the truck. Perfect because I had the paramotor locked but it wouldn't be hard for someone to help themselves to our gear.
The Colorado is a special place with memories going back 4 generations. I remember photos of my great grandfather standing outside in the garden with my then, teenage grandfather, on one of their piano business trips.  The hotel has seen good times and bad.  At the turn of the Century it was the choice of wealthy Europeans who would take the train up from Denver to soak in the hot springs and enjoy the clear dry air.  It was the favorite of presidents Teddy Roosevelt and William Taft and for awhile became known as the White House of the West.  During WWII it was commissioned by the United States Navy as a convalescent home and served over 6500 patients.  
Not wanting to leave the dog alone  we decided to order room service and hope for the best. Wow! It was the same meal we would have had in the main dining room, beautiful presentation and excellent food.  The new owners are working hard to bring the old place back to it's glory and I wish them success, because the Hotel Colorado deserves to be preserved for future generations.

The next morning we bathed in the famous Glennwood Hot  Springs.  Usually there are crowds of laughing children but in October the hot springs are populated mostly by visiting octogenarians, many from Europe.  I'm approaching 60 and changing into my swimming suit, I felt like the young buck hanging out with the grown-ups.  
After a good hot soak we went for breakfast at a favorite hangout, the 19th St Diner.   In the 80's when I was selling bicycle parts  it was a great place to have breakfast with friends before heading up to Aspen or sometimes I just stopped to load up on caffeine before the long drive to Salt Lake City.  
  
After breakfast, we took the dog for a walk and loaded up for the long haul to Monument Valley. The weather was beautiful but predicted to turn bad and... right on schedule, it started to blow. By the time we hit Moab, dark clouds were developing,  the barometer was dropping and the wind was gusting past 30 mph.  Hoping to keep the gear dry, I powered on and we arrived at Gouldings Trading Post at 9:00 pm.   I hurried to unload the truck and just missed getting drenched.  

Thursday it was cold and rainy. Dawn lounged in the condo while I made the rounds and checked with the campground, restaurant and lodge making sure everybody was ready for us. The big disappointment of the day was that the restaurant had double booked our banquet with a wedding.  There was nothing to do, there were no other restaurants within 20 miles so the plan was changed to have a pot luck up at the campground.

 Late in the afternoon, we were treated to a tremendous hail storm.  It came down hard and heavy for about 20 minutes and for about the same time afterward the mesas were coated with a sheen of ice.   I was on the IPad checking the weather forecast every 20 minutes. The low pressure cold front was suppose to pass through that evening,  with high pressure and light breezes for the next  5 days.  I hoped so, because looking across the flats at Sentinel Mesa all I could see was a huge ice covered rock.  The last 5 years had been lucky,  occasionally  the wind came up and spoiled a session, but for the most part, every gathering had been warm and flyable. 

Rain and Hail the day before The Gathering

This year the, "Officers Quarters" were in a different condo.  It wasn't as easy to see from the road so I put out the wind sock out at the turn off and by 6:30 guys started showing up for the Kick-off spaghetti  dinner.    Dawn was great, she made 8 batches of Pasta and sauce and served it up cheerfully as the different groups arrived. First came the Salt Lake contingent with Russ Bateman and his family, then Paul Anthem showed up with the Indy Airhogs followed by Bob Hannah and the Seattle gang. About 8 o'clock Jeff Goin showed up to claim his room and Chad and Lee Anne arrived in time for a special plate of gluten Free pasta.  By 9 the place was full of pilots swapping stories and sharing food and drink.  We broke up at 11:00 to prepare for the next morning flights.

Kick off Dinner

Friday....Beautiful morning.  A bit chilly.... 
The briefing was well attended and the message was short.  Respect the Terran ... Respect the Residents ... Use your head and know where the wind is coming from.   
Once again Dawn was a trooper overseeing omelets in a bag.   We went through 90 eggs and thanks to Donna at the restaurant, buckets of coffee, while the guys flew and wandered up and down the flight line.   The Moment was saved by Byron who flew his quad copter all over the flight line.  

About 10 o'clock, Scott Laws, the new manager of Gouldings came down to welcome us.  He started at Gouldings shortly after last years event and has done a great job upgrading the property, they have remodeled  the lodge and shops and upgraded the campground.  The whole attitude of the place has improved along with the accommodations.  This year we were welcomed rather than tolerated and it made a huge difference. 

When it was time to fly the wind was  nil from the South.   I set up at the very top of the runway and did a down wind launch taking advantage of the smooth asphalt and the downhill grade. It was smooth but chilly.   It felt good to be heading east across the flats.  I stayed up for about 40 minutes and only landed to visit with my friends.   Later that morning, Tom Spears, an instructor from from Glenwood Springs, took me up in his delta wst. It was a little bumpy and without a flight suit, damn cold but it was a great flight and I enjoyed every minute.  Thanks Tom! 

The View Hotel at Navajo Tribal Park

That afternoon while Dawn was sleeping, Jeff and I hung in the officers quarters and chatted about the USPPA, Obama Care and his new Air Space Video.  He and Tim are moving away from the cold of Chicago and relocating somewhere in Florida.  They have made an offer on a house in an air-park with room for the business and all the toys.  It's an exciting time and I wish him well. Around 4:00pm we headed down to the airstrip for the afternoon flights. 

 It was my best flight of the trip.  90 minutes with great sunset colors. Here is the video...

Straighten Up and Fly Right MV 2013 from Joe Onofrio on Vimeo.

Late in the day Ryan Southwell and his friend Scot launched to camp on the top of Eagle Rock. As far as I know, this was a first.  Several years ago John Fetz did a top landing but he only stayed a few minutes.  These guys landed and camped out.  I await the video and photos from Shane and the Team Halo crew.

Ryan Southwell on top og Eagle Rock

Dinner was in the condo followed by a session of paramotor troubleshooting with Jeff, Chad and Lance Marzec,  who was rousted out of bed someplace many time zones away.Before it was over we had a brand new mini plane apart and Jeff was polishing a piston with a pot scrubber, nail file and  toothbrush.

Jeremy Langejans right side down

Saturday ...  The winds were blowing  steadily from the direction of the Tribal Park .  It was a little too strong to attempt flying close to the monuments, so we stayed close to the patch and were treated to an air show out in the flats, East of the airstrip.   The highlight for me was when Ryan Shaw, fresh from the international Slalom competition in Europe, flew his new comp wing the Dudek snake.  Going at least 40 mph he caught and passed a Cessna as it rolled in from landing.
By 11:00 it was getting cold and windy so a bunch of us retreated to the condo for a pot luck lunch.  Spirits were high and it was hard to get a word in edgewise while everybody shared the mornings events.   John and Mary invited several of us to go up in their Cessna after lunch..   Dawn and I were on the second flight with Jeff Goin.  It was wonderful to be back in the park and it was the first time Dawn and I had flown it together.  I expect that one of these days we will own a PPC and fly together all the time but until that day it was a rare treat.

 Dawn's photos from the Cessna

When we landed the French group were packing for the next leg of their tour.  The group leader, Dieter Debaque, had discovered us a few years earlier and put The Gathering into this years tour.  They added 17 pilots and an international touch that was fun. It looked like the altitude was a bit higher than they were accustomed to.  There were a lot of aborted launches and some extremely long runs, but the did just fine and since they bought a lot of t-shirts I think a good time was had by all.  

The French Connection

The afternoon was too windy for most of us but several did get up and found it very flyable..  I stayed on the field and enjoyed the show while Dawn hung in the officer's quarters and rested.  There were several aborts and more than a few exciting launches.  Russ Bateman took his son for a tandem flight and not to be outdone, Mo Sheldon took his dog Rosa up in his specially modified and "dog legal" , trike.  The evenings flights were capped off when Paul Anthem did a wonderfully benign turtle on landing.

Paul Anthem joins the "Order of the Desert Turtle"

The Banquet was less than ideal.  Instead of fancy food and speeches in a private dinning room, we had a Pot Luck BBQ  at the campground.   Plan B was a poor substitute but we made the best of it and enjoyed the company. Jeff Goin was planning to leave early and drive to Phoenix but opted to stay for the campfire and I cannot thank him enough for being so generous with his time.  Thanks Jeff, you serve the USPPA well.

Sunday is was blowing 5 and gusting to 10.   Those foot launching were reporting steady winds with moderate bumps.  It was chilly and less than perfect but it was also the last opportunity to fly for perhaps several months so I decided to go for it.  
I timed the cycles and launched when the breeze had dropped.  Once up, I enjoyed the clear cold air and when I'd had enough of the bumps, I turned back and approached the LZ from the North West for landing.   About 200 yards out I flew into sinking air and dropped 100 feet quickly.  I stayed on the power to maintain my glide so that I would clear the trailers. and spectators.  The wind started picking up but I adjusted and knew that I would still able land safely. The approach was a little bumpy but the landing was going fine, right up until I tried to killl the engine.   Stupidly, my gloves were too thick to reach the recessed  kill switch and I had to let go of one of the the toggles to shut down the motor.  I Iost control of the wing and the trike was pulled and threatened to roll. By the time I was back in control, the trike had been spun180 degrees back toward the direction of the landing.  By putting down a boot and sliding while turning the nose wheel against  the direction of the tip I kept the trike from rolling but it was very close. The wing fell in front of the trike and I slid right up to it's tip, wrapping lines in the front wheel.   Facing the spectators, I made the cross hands sweep signal that baseball umps use to signify, "runner is safe".  I don't know if anybody else got it,.... but, ... I enjoyed the moment.   Kurt  Mozer got the whole thing on video and I can't wait to combine it with the video from my helmet cam to see exactly what happened..  No harm no foul.

Rodeo

The wind continued to rise and everybody began packing up for the ride home.  No injuries ... plenty of airtime and good company.  I can hardly wait for next year.

If you cannot see yourself... You are probably flying

Route 66 and the Wild Horse Canyon

Every 2 years Michelle Daniele Hosts 

Route 66 Flyers Fly-In 

at Paramotor City

This year I did a sprint. Drove down on Friday and drove home on Saturday.... 

It was too windy to fly Friday night (at least for me) but Jim King went for a quick spin in the sunset.  Sue had stopped by the tent announcing that the wind was coming down and that she was thinking of going up.  So..... While Jim and I  walked back to our trucks we debated the value of rigging up for such a short window of flyable air.  Jim was saying it was hardly worth the effort and I said yea , but it might be real good.  Jim looked at me and said , Ya know, You might be right.   Five minutes later Jim is setting up. AND...
It was spectacular!   Jim took off with a beautiful full moon behind him and rode toward the Sunset. After he had tasted the air,  he found it not so sweet, so... he turned back to land. and, "stuck it",  like a gymnast going for the gold.  Jim Doyle and I stood there in awe of Sky King, one of the unsung heroes of  PPG history.

.

A personal highlight was sleeping in the bed of my truck under the stars.
It brought me back to the summers when I "slept out" 6 days a week.  That night we were experiencing what is called the "Super Moon", the brightest moon in 75 years.  About 11:00 somebody foot launched and flew around the field for about 20 minutes.  Very cool.  His wing wasn't light enough to video but it did reflect the moonlight on the turns.  I'm going to have to try it someday.  Tonight was the perfect night and all I can say was good for him.  One of these days .... It's officially on my Bucket List.  Maybe at Lake Jean or Apex in Nevada.   But one of these days I'm going to do a moonlight flight.
Saturday morning I got up at 5:00 and launched with Jim Doyle who was leading the cross country to Wild Horse Canyon.  Great flight .... good air all the way.



After the flight we enjoyed the traditional omelets in a bag breakfast.  My jalapeño bacon was a huge hit, they ate all 5 pounds!
The Route 66 crowd is family and it was so great to see my friends.
Thanks Michelle for having us back.

Review of the Falcon 4 stroke paramotor

Don't by a Falcon 4 stroke

Don't buy a Falcon 4 stroke !

I've done some bone headed things but this is the worst.

In 2009 I traded my beautiful little two stroke Trike for one of Terry ’s machines.

I should have known that first day. On the maiden flight, I parablended my favorite cap right there in front of everybody. The 4 stroke was so quiet I didn't think to put on my helmet and plugs. Imagine....A machine so quiet you don't notice your not wearing ear protection... until your cap goes through the prop. That's a dangerous machine! Yeah, I did go to idle the other day to use the cell phone... but so what?

Every day I find another flaw in this crappy machine. I used to love driving out to the Airport for AV Gas. They let me drive on to the tarmac with the GA guys so I could fill my two 5 gallon gas jugs. I'd drive to the back of the line and wait my turn. Sometimes it took awhile to fill those big birds but it gave me some time ro read the latest issue of Powered Sport Flying. I used to get a lot of good thinking done sitting in the truck waiting for gas. Now, I don't even need the jugs, I just stop at the gas station on the way to the field and fill the buggy right there in the truck. Where is the romance in that? And that reminds me of another thing. What am I going to do with those cases of TTS 2 stroke oil in my garage?

And speaking of the garage....my " Man Cave "... I haven't had a good night working on the machine in months. Yeah sure, I can re-rig the foot steering or mount a strobe but mostly I just sit there and gaze at the machine. No changing tension springs on the exhaust or rebuilding the carb. Heck, I'm having a hard time finding a place that needs a little safety wire. It just isn't the same I come in after 3 hours in the garage and I don't even need to wash my hands. It just sucks!

And the flying is different too. Gone is that element of uncertainty, I sit down, buckle the seat belt and turn the key. There is no sense of accomplishment in that. No fooling with the carb or pulling on the starter till I'm bathed in sweat. The other day I flew 15 miles from the LZ and didn't think once about what a drag it would be if I had to land out. Sure, I still keep an eye out for emergency landing sites but it's really just an exercise anymore. I can still remember the thrill of an engine out,… what a rush those were!

So take my advice, if you love the 2 stroke lifestyle, don't by a Falcon 4 stroke.

Seriously, almost 200 flights on Terry ’s machines without a single problem related to the Paramotor or trike. Footlaunch is King, but once you decide to make the transition to wheels, 4 stroke is the only way to go. The Falcon is the most reliable and affordable PPG on the market

When the Moron Speaks ... Listen

Paul Anthem talks about meeting

"Monument Rotor"

Paul Anthem:

On the second morning of flying at Monument Valley in southern Utah four of us planned on flying together out to the monoliths and mesas so that professional paramotor photographer Franck Simmonet could get some photos.
“You don’t need to get close to the mesas” he said, “just stay close to me so that you are big in the frame”.
We launched into almost no wind. It could have been because we were in the wind shadow of the huge mesa beside the LZ. Whatever it was, as I flew out to the mountainous monuments, I was doomed to misjudge the winds.
The day before I had flown out to the large horse-shoe shaped area of monoliths and felt a few mild bumps when I was right in the middle and below the top of the mesas, some of which reach almost 1000 ft. Just about everyone was flying fairly close to the towering structures-- but the wind was mild then.
Apparently, this day, the winds were much stronger AND I had completely misjudged the wind direction. I always stay away and above of the leeward side of any large obstruction but, as I slowly descended towards the largest mesa, I mistakenly thought I was on the windward side.
That’s when I heard Franck over the radio, “Go heighter, go heighter!” (Yes, I know it’s “higher” but he was saying “heighter”). By the time he radioed that warning I realized that I was NOT climbing very fast-- in fact, I think I was sinking at full throttle.
Then, maybe 20 or 30 seconds later I felt my wing start to vibrate. This is not a very happy wing, I’m thinking. I can feel that I’m loosing brake pressure on the right side (the monolith was to my left several hundred feet). Franck and Matt are a few hundred feet above and behind me. My wing was deforming in such odd and obvious ways that it prompted Matt Witchlinski to radio his concern, “Paul, are you in some bad air ! ?”
I didn’t even try to answer. SOMETHING is going to happen soon, I thought. He had barely finished his sentence when my wing was smacked out of the air.
Now, I often play around with my wing and induce asymmetric collapses but the wing is STILL flying. This was nothing like that. My wing was batted down and folded up and I was falling instantly. It happened so fast all I had time to do was let off of the throttle and hope I didn’t fall into the wing.
The wing recovered with a few violent jerks as I checked the surge. I later learned that after seeing my predicament Franck and Matt instantly turned around to avoid the same fate-- they didn’t get to see what happened next.
I’m pretty sure that Matt radioed back about ten seconds later to ask if I was alright. I didn’t answer. I was too busy concentrating and trying to control a wing that was dancing around and vibrating like I was on a drum. You know that feeling you get when you’ve vomited and you can feel it coming on again… I was waiting for it but nothing could have prepared me for the violent collapse that came next.
My wing was hit in the center and thrown back behind me and to the side. For a second I was laying back looking up at the sky. Then the balled up wing swung over to the other side and I was sideways. I dropped down and the wing swung me to the other side and on my back again. Then, next thing I know, it’s in front of me, below the horizon and smooshed up into a ball I could probably fit into my stuff sack. Well at least I can see the wing now. I drop under it again as I tense my arms in a braking position. The wing re-inflates with some rocking and surges, but thankfully, I’m flying again.
I look down and see that I still have several hundred feet of altitude. If I get hit again I might have to throw my reserve. I don’t want to do that while caught in a rotor with only jagged rocks and a cliff face below.
I don’t know if I can take another thrashing like that, I thought. I was lucky that I didn’t fall through the lines or get a major cravat… and I’m still being rocked.
I could feel that I was caught in the huge rotor- it was like a vortex. I couldn’t climb and I couldn’t get away from the monolith. The other guys had got away, maybe they can look back and see some way out. I pressed the radio button on my helmet,” I can’t get out! I’m stuck in the rotor! What should I do ?”
“Climb out”, they said.
“I can’t, it’s pushing me down!”
For a second, I considered going low but then decided that if I had another collapse like the last one that I wouldn’t recover in time. I thought about heading TOWARDS the mesa but decided that although it might get me under the down rotor, it might also suck me up and put me through the wringer again.
So I just kept at full throttle, heading away from the mesa, hands clenched on the brakes trying to keep the wing as stable as possible with every twitch and twist.
Finally, after what must have been 15 minutes, I felt the air smooth out and I started to climb again.
I headed straight back to the airport.
I had had my excitement for the day.

Paul is an accomplished pilot and the creator of the famous PPG for Morons Videos see more at:
http://ppgformorons.com/

Bill & Joe's Excellent Adventure Day #8

We are

Pounding

West into the

Old Bahama Channel.

This morning, after a great breakfast of bacon and eggs, Bill and I had to decide if we should backtrack to Ragged Island or reach for the channel. Bill set up the ham radio and we tuned into the cruiser net. Captains were calling in from all over the Caribbean getting information on the weather and waves. The "No Rush" did not subscribe to this service but we were patient and after listening to 8 or 10 briefings we were able to discern that the N.N.E. winds were going to be with us for awhile.

So... if we went to Ragged Island we would lose at least two days and I would miss my flight home. That was no problem, since there was no one waiting for me to return. About the only thing we would gain by going to Ragged Island would be a day of trailing seas and a break from the pounding we were getting on anchor. There just aren't many options, we can't go north and make the "Great Circle" over the Bahama Bank to Marathon, because the wind is all wrong for that. We can't go south because Cuba is in the way. The only thing to do is, stay the course, sail to the narrows and hope we get lifted by a clocking wind. I would have loved to set foot on Bahamian soil again but that's the breaks.

There is a commercial fishing boat a couple of miles to the west. They have deployed about ten small 2 man boats that are scattering around the bank. I'm not sure what they are fishing for but the process is interesting. They are using a diver who is being fed O2 through a compressor and hose system. The equipment looks old and beat. One boat came up to meet us but we were not able to communicate very well. I was too shy to try out my Spanish ... just not feeling very extroverted today.

I'm starting to get into the rhythm. When it gets smooth and quiet... hang on... The bow will have finished it's climb to the top of the wave and begin to drop. Then BANG, into the foot of the next wave... and it starts all over again.We will cross 5 or 6 waves between crashes and every third one is a bone shaker.

1420 hours Still working it. Course 279 degrees, steering by the wind and hoping it will turn by the time we get to the narrows. Right now it looks like we might be pinned. The seas are 6 - 8 feet and the wind is 22 kts. Outside the cabin house is loud, wet and windy. This boat is singing an anthem.

So far, we have traveled 766 nm.

2200 hours Just finished tonight's movie Rolling Thunder. Bill predicted that the winds would start to turn shortly after dark and he was spot on. We are in the channel and have just enough lift to navigate. It's going to be a saw tooth with the starboard tack favoring by a long shot.

I really enjoy these night watches, it is a different world and the boat takes on a new character.

Its pitch black , the clouds have obscured the moon and stars, the only visible objects are the instruments and the reflection of waves rolling away from the stern light. Its an illusion, but other senses seem heightened. A squeaking sheave in the boom that was hardly noticeable this afternoon sounds like a giant pissed off parrot. Voices on the marine radio are crystal clear and the wind in the rigging is singing a dirge. Every couple of minutes a wave breaks over the bow sending a bathtub full of water to crash against the front of the cabin house. Sounds are coming from everywhere..wood noise, fiberglass noise, water noise, mechanical and organic, without pause, not getting louder or softer, just going on and on. Below deck, the smells are stronger, ripening fruit, clothing that has been worn for too many days, wet bedding, they all combine into one big boat smell, that I perversely, really like.

0000 hours Bill is back on deck, time to go below and sleep. I wonder what tonight's dream is going to be... should be good.

Bill & Joe's Excellent Adventure Day #7

"Hold On", Bill hollers... 5 seconds later the boat rolled 30 degrees to starboard. If the No Rush were a monohull instead of a catamaran it would be business as usual, but on this boat ... not so much. Still, it wasn't a big deal , just the biggest roll so far. Cruising cats don't heel like a keel boat, but they do roll with the sea. So, when Bill hollered, I braced and as soon as the wave had passed I went on with what I was doing. Everything on deck and below stayed pretty much in place and there was no crashing or cursing from the galley. The big wave was more of a surprise, at worst an inconvenience, nothing more. Bill did catch a face full of seawater but we were used to that, it happened two or three times a night when we poked our heads above the pilot house to scan the horizon for other ships.

0600 hours We are reaching hard for the banks around Ragged Island. The front came in full force about 4:30. I had gone below about 0000 hours and Bill let me sleep until I woke at 0430. When I came up on deck the boat was hove to and losing ground at about 1.5 kts. Bill was stretched out on the port settee and I did the same on the starboard side until dawn.

0800 hours As soon as it was light enough to see without flashlights we put in the third reef and hauled in for a close reach to the narrows. We were overtaken by a big commercial freighter also heading for the mouth of the Old Bahama Channel and as he crossed our bow, plowing through the 8 foot seas...Bill and I looked at each other and knew it was going to be a long hard pull. Big wind and high seas, right on our nose.

1100 hours Three hours later and we had gained only 3 nm on the point where Bill had originally hove to. So... we changed tactics and turned the boat downwind toward Ragged Island. We held that course for about an hour and checked the chartplotter and the paper chart. The island was appealing, there is a small settlement that would be fun to explore. Unfortunately all the anchorages would be off the windward shore, not a good place to drop a hook. We didn't know what the holding ground was and the wind wasn't going to let up soon. So... we changed tactics and headed back into the wind. We steered toward a tongue of deep water that leads into the shallow banks above Ragged. The idea was that the banks to windward would calm the seas enough to give us safe passage, entering the shallows from the lea side. Had we tried to enter the banks directly from the windward side, the seas piling up on the shallow water would have been treacherous.

Right now...I'm in my nest, curled up with pillows. I just finished the movie Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure on the laptop. Bill calls me up when it's time to tack, otherwise I'm content listening to The Beatles White album on the IPod or the "mystery music" coming from the boat. Both of us have been hearing music when no music is being played. It's weird... Bill says he hears Opera and I hear everything from heavy metal to slow ballads. Just now I could swear that I heard a steel drum playing "Stand By Your Man". There is huge variety of sounds coming from the boat... swishing water along the hulls, bangs and thumps from the waves, the generator humming... all mixing together making a grey noise that my mind is turning into something familiar. I kind of like the playlist my brain is creating from chaos.

1245 hours Bill must not be happy with the progress that we are making because he just started the motor.

1400 hours Still on motor the seas are pounding us.

1730 hours At anchor somewhere on the banks west of Ragged Island. It didn't get as shallow as the charts promised but what can you expect from a chart that is based on a survey from the British Admiralty in 1845. (No lie... it says so right on the legend!)

2000 hours On the Banks I put out a fishing hook ... just because... We lounged around reading and watching the sky. The winds are still high (18kts) but the seas are down thanks to the shallows. We are still bouncing around and it's far from an ideal anchorage but it beats the hell out of the big rollers of deep water. We are in 35 feet of water which is a bit deep for the scope and the anchor did drag a little but seems to be holding fine now. It's comfortable for us even if it is a bit blowy forward. Thank God there are no wives aboard or we would be in the endless anchor debate.

Time to watch "The Big Labowsky"

North of the Cuban coast and a long way from anywhere

Bill & Joe's excellent Adventure Day 6

0030 It just doesn't get any better ...
Full moon and steady winds at our back. The boat is surfing along at 6 kts and there is nothing but open ocean for hundreds of miles ahead. To starboard, I can see Matthewtown glittering on the Northwestern tip of great Iguana Island. The village is about a mile across and can't be more than 200 people. Ah well ...maybe next time. I guess the same goes for Guantanamo it's only 122nm. off my port bow... another day and maybe another Regime.


Yesterday was good, after Bill and I cobbled together a new mainsheet system we cooked dogs for lunch. I slept first, and the dreams just kept on coming, this one was about some "event at the library", everybody seemed to know each other and were happy. Later we watched a movie and played cards. No Worries on No Rush. We talked about what to do and where to go when we get to Key West. Skipper says I get to pick the itinerary and hints that he would like to see The Dry Tortuga, he thinks there is some good snorkeling around there. I've seen it... but it was after a long slow sail from Marathon and nobody felt like getting into the water that day. So if he wants to keep going west after Key West...I'm good with it.




Dinner was a great beef stew made from scratch. While Bill was cooking I hung out on the bow and took pictures. The clouds parted just before sunset.


After Dinner Bill had some serious pain in his lower back. He had mentioned having Kidney stones a few years ago and the location was right. So... Bill took a Vicadin and went below. Fifteen minutes later I screwed up a wind shift and before I could get the boat straightened out he was back on deck saying the cramps had gone and he was feeling fine. I told him the problem must be menstrual and we both laughed. It was troubling... but there wasn't anything I could do about it and I figured that if things went to hell I could set course for Guantanamo and call for help on 16. I'm sure we would have assistance in short order.

There was a good display of bioluminescence in the wake. The movie was Three Feathers about British troops fighting in Sudan during the late 1800s.

When the wind picked up right after dark we put a reef in the main and the boat settled right down. I stayed on deck until we saw the beacon on Grand Iguana.

0240 hours 6 nm southwest of Matthewtown. The winds are starting to increase and the cloud cover is lower and thick. I ducked below and cleaned up the dishes from last nights feast. When I came up I let out the main and tightened the preventer. It was all good ... time to catch up on my murder mystery.

0500 hours Bill is up and I'm ready for sleep.

1145 hours We have been Wing on Wing since midday yesterday only having to switch sails once. The seas are down I so I used the opportunity to open the foreward hatches on my side of the boat. It was getting a bit ripe in there.

1800hours Bill made chicken with Bell pepper wraps for lunch. There has been no change in wind direction but it is starting to build. We are expecting it to begin clocking from east to south and then from the southwest which is going to make for a bumpy night. Spent the afternoon reading. Just for the heck of it I put out the fishing gear ...no joy.

2100hours Storm at Sea

Bill and I were playing cards, the seas were 2-3 feet and coming from astern, as they had been all day. We were talking about putting a reef in the main and watching the clouds thicken ahead... Suddenly Bill put down his cards and said, "Lets do it RIGHT NOW".

So... we reefed the main and furled the jib. As we finished the wind died and we could see a rain squall approaching from the Northwest. When it hit it shifted to the north. The best way to make good time in these condition was to motor and.. so we did.

Dinner was great, Pasta Bolognese, which we ate quickly. The weather was looking like it was going to get worse. We were still several hours from the narrows but the skys ahead were very dark. There was a midsized yacht tracking us on the starboard we kept an eye on it until it sped up and crossed our bow.

The night was pitch black and it was impossible to make out the horizon. It's like being inside a bowl of India ink. We turned off the running lights for a second and you couldn't even see the bow. I have never experienced such "blackness. Later the bioluminescence started up with a variation on last night.. Tonight it was a green cloud with brighter globs of light within. Amazing! Again we turned off the running lights and all the instruments. WOW...The only thing visible were little green flashes coming from our wake and bow wave. WOW... I stood on the transom steps and imagined it was the view of our universe from a million light years away.

Bill suspects the front is Northwest and will be on us about midnight, right now we are in the convergence and it's strangely calm.

2100 hours Just before Bill went below he suggested that I disconnect the Garmin C-176 from the boat's power just in case the storm knocks out the chart plotter. The lightning started from the NW but now it's across the entire starboard side with an occasional flash to port probably from smaller storm cells. It would have been great to check it on the radar but it decided to be our latest mechanical issue and went down yesterday.

2300 hours I'm a little spooked...probably for no good reason but this is new to me. As the front approached the air became super saturated. Everything was wet. we are still motorsailing but the jib is out and we trimmed the main to starboard. Bill is up. Time to get some sleep it's going to be a long night.

Monument Valley 09 Saturday

Mo made it in late last night and gave the briefing...thanks Mo...

Conditions were wonderful, light breezes made for easy take-offs. I launched from halfway down the runway to avoid yesterday’s mistake...and I switched to the PowerPlay Sting. What a difference! The climb was much better; I locked the throttle at 80%, hooked up the foot steering and headed over to the park. The rig was climbing at 130 ft/min and with a strong tailwind ...moving fast. I figured that if I had a hard time penetrating on the way home, I would go low and if that wasn't enough, I could land out and hitch a ride back.

Jeff and the Boys (Ivan Mo Uri Mark)

Photo by Faith Wesstrom

There were wings all over the place, some were heading into the valley and others were coming from the North after visiting the seven sisters and possibly rounding Brigham’s Tomb. After clearing Gouldings, I flew south along the highway and crossed over Wetherill Mesa into the Valley of the Gods, three miles south of the visitors center. It was spectacular. I was surrounded by a labyrinth of massive buttes and delicate spires towering a thousand feet above the desert floor. After doing a couple of big slow circles I turned North past the Camel and Elephant Buttes until I reached the West Mitten where I turned back towards Gouldings. At 2500AGL the best speed was 5 mph at 2000AGL it was up to 10mph and at 500ft I was clipping along at 18mph.

Photo by Faith Wesstrom

When I got back to the field there was a plane circling the LZ waiting for everybody to clear the runway. I positioned myself at 500 ft just north of the airstrip so that I would be well inside of the flight pattern and out of the way. There was a truck sitting right in the middle and I was hoping that he knew there was a plane waiting to land. It took entirely too long, with the foot steering engaged and the throttle set to cruise I circled for at least 15 minutes. Eventually the runway was cleared and I landed with a long low and slow run up the runway. This was the best flight so far.

Photo by Faith Wesstrom

After Lunch a bunch of us piled into the pick-up and went for a tour of Navajo Tribal Park. We had a great time stopping at the various outlooks and pointing out places where we had been and planned to go and taking the obligatory,“We were there", pictures. All of us agreed that the monuments looked allot bigger from the ground but scarier from the air. I was astounded when Jeff told me that he was anxious flying close to these massive and unchanging structures because I felt the same way. We both knew that they couldn't "suck you in" but at the same time it took force of will to fly right up to the wall of something so huge and unsympathetic.

Csaba Lemak

Seeing the monuments from the ground was a real eye opener. For one thing, I realized that if I were ever forced to make an emergency landing, I had better be able to glide to a road, because it would be almost impossible find smooth patch amidst all the skree. Not to mention the difficulty in pushing the Rig to a place where I could be picked up.

Faith and Ola Wesstrom

That evening we met at Gouldings for the Big Dinner.

Into the truck and down the hill we went. Ola looked very comfortable sitting in the buggy and Faith was riding shotgun as the token lady but I worried that I was going to lose either Ivan or Uri off the back, fortunately I remembered the speed bumps and we made it without incident. At dinner I had the ribs which I wish I’d tried sooner because it was by far the best dish on the menu. Sitting with Johnny Fetz, Chad and Greg Bishop, we talked about next year and things we wanted to do. I really hadn't thought about "non-organizing" it again but listening to the gang ...it sounds like allot of people are talking about coming back and doing it again.
After the meal I got up and said a very few words, thanking everybody and inviting them to come back next year. Someday I’m going to surprise them and prepare a real speech but for now the minimalist thing was working for me. One thing for sure it was much more satisfying that the last time when I had a pilot down and no one knew his condition.
After dinner we hung for about an hour and told hanger stories. It was a hoot to see Jeff sitting with John Black and Mo. The atmosphere was celebratory, just about everyone got one "EPIC" flight and no one was injured.
Eventually it broke up into lots of little parties. I made the rounds and visited a couple of them; the campfire discussion was in full swing with Russ, Faith, Ola, Ivan, Johnny, Uri, Chad and a few others. Tonight's topic was wing design, what’s new, what’s being developed… and... Government interference in the Ultraflight World, the good bad and ugly. Russ had an abundance of firewood so the fire was high and accommodated the large group nicely.

Down at the Bachelor's Quarters there was a rowdy game of Texas hold-em. Csaba and John Black were going at it hard and heavy while the guys who had donated to the cause looked on with great big smiles. The happiest guy was Jim King who had seen god earlier in the day when he got pinned to the earth by a running paramotor. Story is, that Jerry had fixed him a couple of Margaritas before dinner and he was feeling no pain. At Bob's RV the “Acro Film Festival” was winding down. I was almost bowled over by Ivan when he staggered out of the RV... heading to bed...too tuckered for any more carousing.