This weekend was supposed to be all about attending the National Soaring Museum's soaring symposium and the induction of Dr. Jack Glendenning into the soaring hall of fame. And it was. I met and interviewed Dr. Jack and learned about his soaring history and the creation of one of the most widely used tools in soaring - his Blipmap forecast. Even after speaking with him, I'm not sure he fully understands how integral to soaring this forecast is. It is THE authoritative and go-to forecast for soaring. It's the first, and often, last stop for information about how good the soaring will be today or in the next day or two.
The only problem is that the weather outside was INCREDIBLE. After the symposium, I headed over to the flight line and heard stories of nine and ten thousand foot maximum climbs. Tim Welles, one of our best pilots, returned from a several hundred mile flight with a giant smile on his face.
Usually, when we have a great day of soaring, the next day is never as good. I'm happy to report that this was NOT the case this weekend. Sunday turned out to be a better soaring day than Saturday, and that is saying quite a bit!
Dr. Jack's forecast said it would be pretty good all over with a possibility of overdevelopment. With that in mind, I put in a task of about 100k to fly, wanting to stay relatively close and start out in short steps. I knew if I could connect, that high cloud bases would make it a stress free first step into the beyond.
Two of my fellow club members took off ahead of me in the Duo Discus and after I was airborne I saw them above and climbing to cloudbase. I quickly connected with a strong thermal (yay me!) and in short order was crushing my previous altitude record of 7,400 feet. I topped out at 8,700 and started towards Mount Pisgah, some 25 miles away.
My mantra for the day was "get high, stay high" and that's what I did. I flew slower than I needed to - about 70 knots. There was good lift but also strong sink, so I spent most of the flight speeding up to pass through the sink, or slowing down to take advantage of the lift I encountered. About 3/4 of the way to Mount Pisgah, I was dipped below 8,000 feet and stopped for a thermal. I knew I didn't need to stop, but thought I'd sample the difficulty of connecting as I got lower. I climbed back to 9,000+ feet (!) and set off again. I was there in short order and still looking good on altitude but it was beginning to cloud up a bit.
I realized that it was over developing and wanted to make sure I was high when it closed up completely so I could survive while the sun was gone. I headed across a blue hole towards Blue Swan and the air was completely smooth - no thermal activity at all. But also no significant sink, so I was able to cross the hole with relatively little altitude loss. I arrived shortly at Blue Swan, near Sayre, NY. and turned for Harris Hill. I was pretty sure I could glide the whole way back and still make it, so I was feeling pretty confident but I decided I wanted to do a little more. I punched Watkins Glen track into the PDA and started looking for a thermal as I worked my way back.
About that time, I flew under the overcast and thought that it would shut everything off. I tried the a cloud or two that was darker than the others and got no lift. In the distance I saw a very dark and large cloud and headed for that. It was pretty much in line with my course and I thought I'd see if it was working.
It was. I circled and climbed above 9,500 feet. As I circled, the lift got stronger and stronger. I explored my circle, moving towards the southern edge where I'd observed earlier that the lift was strongest and found even better lift. I decided to take it all the way up since the rest of the flight would be under the overcast and just as I started back out on the course line, the cloud began to suck me into it. I put the nose down to speed up but I kept going up as I was flying under the rest of it. No problem, I popped the spoilers open and descended a bit to stay clear of the bottom and pretty soon I was on my way.
The view from 10,000 feet. Harris Hill is to the left, about 1/2 way up, Watkins Glen is near the base of Seneca lake near the top. |
Pretty quickly I realized I recognized the terrain! I've been flying flights in this area using the Condor flight simulator and a photorealistic scenery of our soaring area. Earlier, I'd recognized the windmill farm near Mount Pisgah and now I could see from Sayre up to Elmira and beyond to Harris Hill. I recognized a warehouse from the scenery and could follow certain landmarks I'd seen before in the simulator. Nice!
I headed slightly east of the Hill and in the general direction of the track, stopping at the Northeast side around 7,000 feet to tank up. It had been mostly sink with weak lift, if any, under the overcast so I decided I'd really need enough altitude to glide all the way to Watkins and back before going up there.
I didn't find much and after working it for awhile, I wasn't making much vertical progress, so I headed back to Harris Hill. Eventually, I found another thermal over there as the overcast began to break up and headed North again towards the track. Over there I found a small thermal, headed for another cloud that didn't work and though I'd better turn back. On the way back I flew under another dark cloud and turned to try it. Success! This time, the lift seemed to improve with each turn and pretty soon I was climbing through 9,500 smartly. I decided to hang on and see if I could break the 10k mark. Sure enough, pretty soon the altimeter was indicating 10,000 feet and the bottom of the cloud was approaching. I set off for Watkins Glen track.
I arrived over the track with plenty of altitude and decided to tag the city of Watkins Glen itself, which I did. I turned for Harris Hill with a massive altitude reserve and completed my first cross country flight!
Stats - the straight line distance between the turnpoints was 142 kilometers, or 88 miles. I actually flew about 140 miles or 225 kilometers. I could have been more efficient, but since I was considering Watkins Glen as an add on, I returned to the Hill, found lift, then headed back out in a not so straight line before finally committing to going there, so the overall trip was even less efficient than my newbie status would suggest.
In any case, it's not unreasonable for me to consider a 150k flight as a goal in the future. I need to keep in mind that the flight this weekend was practically a no-brainer. Future flights will be more challenging as the leaves come on the trees and the cloud bases get lower, requiring more thermaling and skill to get to and from my turn points.
Nevertheless, a great accomplishment for me. I had no compunctions leaving Harris Hill and didn't think twice about getting out of range. Once out on course, I was able to read the sky, see the overdevelopment building, made a plan to deal with it, and kept flexible when trying to reach up to Watkins, trying different ways to get there until I found one that worked.
A great day, indeed.