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/

The Gathering at Monument Valley 2010

Brief Account of the 3rd Annual Gathering ...

Official site for "The Gathering" here    http://flyingtheholygrail.blogspot.com/


Wed
3:00pm Ollie and I leave for the event.  I forgot to pick-up the flight jacket.  We stop at Steve Katers and spent an hour catching up. Steve has been a great friend through thick and thin, we left with fresh vegetables, bike parts and a big smile.
Stopped in Grand Junction had "brenner" at the IHOP and bought a cheap jacket at Wall Mart.  Spent the night at the Travel Lodge.

Thursday
Drove to Moab and toured Arches.  Pulled into Gouldings about 3:00pm.  Olivia held her own playing Texas Hold Em with Sky King, Sean and some other serious players.

Friday
Good flight in the AM. (#440).

At the beginning there was a small problem when one pilot flew too close to the resort at the Navajo Tribal Park.  We had not had a formal briefing and unfortunately he wasn't aware of the sensitivities of the Navajo about flying around their facilities and habitations.  A good time was had by all when he ascended from the valley floor below up to the Scenic Overlook, the resort guests waved happily and took photographs.  However what appeared to be a good opportunity to showcase our sport turned out to be exactly the opposite.   The Navajo Police promptly visited our landing strip and forbid us from entering the Navajo Tribal Park for the duration of the event.   Since there were still thousands of acres of beautiful country and more monuments than we could fly in a month, we chose not to argue the legalities of who controls the airspace and politely agreed to stay out of the park.   The Gathering continued and everyone was able to get as much airtime as they wanted.  Future pilots should be able to fly the whole area unencumbered provided that they keep 1500 above the desert floor.  It would be  prudent  to fly at least that high anyway to have enough glide to find a safe landing and pick-up if needed.   The moral of the story was ... If you find yourself at a Fly-In a day or two early, be sure to READ THE RULES and know the particulars of the area before launching. 

Sat.  Blew the first attempt and noticed the axle rods were cracked.  Spent the morning replacing the rods.
Ollie and I went for a a very short bike ride,  I wanted to take her west behind Goldings Butte but we had to turn back when my Myata Cyclocross bike couldn't handle the soft sands on one inch knobbys. 

We did see a good sized  tarantula that we watched walk across the road..  After a good downhill to the LZ we watched the Navajo High School Homecoming Parade.  It was sweet ... Beautiful children riding all kinds of contraptions throwing candy to the crowd.

At 4:30 we met at the LZ and Olivia went for her first flight with Randy on his beautiful orange PPC.  I wanted to fly with them but by the time I set up they were coming in to land.  My flight was a  short one, the winds were starting to get twitchy and I didn't see any need to fight it since Olivia was already down. (#441) 


That evening we were treated to some spectacular flying by Dell and some others.  One of the Paradrenalin guys flew well past dark.  Very spooky, there was no moon and the only way to discern the rocks was ... there is black and blacker.  I watched him ridge soar on the southern butte and wondered what it must have been like.  The lights rigged to his motor were impressive and I was thinking that he might have had a way to slant them down to use for landing lights but didn't hang around to see how he managed to land.  Later that year I saw the amazing Nirvana Show at the Salton Sea.  LEDs imbedded into the carbon prop with a graphics program running ... very cool.

The banquet at Gouldings was well attended.  The new assistant manager created some problems and asked us to remove the alchol that we had permission to bring in. Barb was off so i had to make peace with the local officer.  Paul Anthem got up and told us of their trials getting to the event and I said a few words.  The night was topped off when  Ryan asked Olivia to pick the raffel winner of a new Paradrenalin Paramotor.  It was good to see new and old friends sharing a meal. 

Sunday Nice flight in the morning. (#442) The Trim cam jammed in the hang point loop but I was able to free it with a few hard smacks.  Dell, Russ and Sean put on a great show.  Olivia packed her stuff and I took a shower with a scorpion... poor guy couldn't take the hot water.  On the road by noon.  Went home through Pagosa Springs and Salida.  Beautiful drive.  Home by 10pm