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Hangola June 23 - July 3, 2003

Flight Reports

Sparky, Dan and Bruce showed up Friday afternoon, too late to go flying but not too late to take a look at Salida. We drove up Tenderfoot Hill, or S Mountain as some call it, a 500 ft hill overlooking the town. Sparky and Dan flew zagis in high wind, the winglets came off Dan's. Saturday we went to Willow Grove, west of Gunnison. I launched into 18-30, Dan and a local pilot launched later after I landed. The local landed after 20 minutes, wind really picked up and Dan landed on top, far back on the plateau. We decided to go to Paradox Valley and/or Big Gypsum the next day based on the forecast. On Saturday we were unable to find the Paradox launch, Sparky had been there years ago. But it was obvious at the top it was blown out. Spectacular site, next visiting pilot we're going there. It's a 2000 ft vertical launch off an escarpment over a long valley. Really out in the sticks.

Somebody twist some arms to get a newsletter story written about it. Sparky took a picture of where not to drive a Ford Explorer.

After a navigational adventure we went off to Big Gypsum which is another escarpment farther south and lower. Since it was lower and later we figured the wind should be lighter. No such luck, we waited until 7 PM and left, it was still blowing 32. Sparky flew the Zagi and tumbled it, landing over the back about a quarter mile.

We explored some interesting sandstone formations while hang waiting. I found some petroglyphs carved in a cliff face, a horse, a fish, a yin and yang, and a peace symbol.

We moteled it in Dove that night after a second unsucessful attempt to find a decent campground. Don't believe the campground symbols on the Delorme road atlas, they all turned out to be scanky trailer villages. Get a AAA campgound guide for the state you're going to.

I headed home Monday morning, the forecast was for high winds for the next couple days and my truck was having a problem with the cooling system. Sparky sold me his Zagi and they headed off to Cedar City, Utah.

MC

Bruce, Allen and I are in Las Vegas. Yesterday we attempted to fly Hurricane Utah,(Mollies Nipple). Wind gusts over 40 mph convinced us otherwise, so we decided to drop down to Las Vegas in an attempt to escape the high winds and take advantage of the unusually cool weather here. Bruce and Allen are working on the truck, I'm visiting my son and son in law.

It looks like it could be flyable this afternoon and again tomorrow. Hopefully we will all get a chance to get into the air.

My flight at Willow Creek was in strong but not terribly turbulant winds. The top landing was my first and fairly uneventfull near the back of the 1/2 mile wide plateau. Nailed a no-stepper almost right on my target bare spot. Of course in winds 15+ it would be hard to take too many steps. I learned from a local pilot that the 1200' over I achieved was relatively unusual on the 1/5 mile wide ridge. The view of Blue Mesa Reservoir was a treat.

Allen has been flying the bejeesus out of the Zagi and marking some interesting wind characteristics. At the Gypsum site he flew it into a open spot behind the launch to see how the rotor would behave. It tumbled the Zagi at about 50 feet. That would suck! Then he flies it again and lands it right at his feet. He got a really cool picture of us four-wheeling into this place, and several others, he'll pass some of those along when he can.

Dan T.

Another good day at Woodstock today. Arrived about 2PM and started to set up. Was joined by John Mc. and Adam. Wind was straight in at a steady 5-8 with launch cycles of about 10-12. I watched serveral cycles before picking one to launch in. It felt like a good cycle and the streamers never changed but after I got about 10ft off the ground I hit a big sink hole them immeadiately started climbing again. Left the slot with plenty of clearance and good speed but had a short period of pucker factor. Just enough ridge lift to maintain alt but good strong thermals for gaining alt. Max alt of 4200 MSL. Landed after 1:40 due to having to take my wonderful wife to dinner for our 12th anniversary. John and adam landed soon after to grab a ride back up to their vehicle. Nice smooth conditions on a beautiful day :-}

Fog broke extra early so I decided to give it a go. Launched the upper launch at KG bowl with a bunch of spectators present. Inversion layer capped everything between 3 and 3.5k. Played for about an hour before exploring/gambling on different ridges. Strong west winds made the landing approach a little sketch. Beautiful skies and a nice flight.

Kev C

A bunch of us were at Ridgely yesterday enjoying the no-rain day. It was soarable, with some hefty sink cycles. Wind was pretty much out of the NW and W between 5 and 10. I took 2 flights on the Litespeed of 30 and 40 minutes, my first real flights since April (not counting the 700' tow at the Ridgely fly-in). First landing fine. Second landing had a wing go up and the other go down. Took out the curved tip wand. Eh oui. Ordered 2 more - which should be enough insurance to never bust another one.

Christy

Sunday, we planned to fly Ridgely. But it rained, so we aborted our journey there midway and headed home. However, though the blip map still looked marginal, the sun crawled out on Monday. We jumped in the truck and aimed it towards Ridgely again.

I thought the sun had cooked everything pretty well by two or so, so I hooked in to Ginny and flew. My tow was rowdier than any I've had this spring. The wind was blowing 20 aloft, and with the bucking-bronco activity, I thought the lift was sure to be outstanding.

The old find-a-thermal-on-tow trick worked again, and I smiled when my vario began to sing. Most of the lift was weak, though (maybe 200 up). My vario registered 400 at one point, but not for long. I quickly blew downwind of the airport. Though I found lots of lift as I returned to the airport, I was drifting further away without gaining much altitude, so I was toast about the time I arrived back. Was disappointed in my skills, but then was told I had the flight of the day at about half an hour. Paul later told me he actually got three more minutes than I did, but you all know he is a big liar. I towed again and stole another 20 minutes in the air.

PK was there, and Danny Brotto and John Middleton and Steve Kinsley. John Muldoon. Ralph. Jason. Our good friend Lisa from Florida, formerly of Ridgely. Lots of others. Big turnout.

I was relaxing around the picnic table when Ric flew up with his son, Jabon, in the most beautiful little Piper Cub (maybe 1938?), doors removed. I was lusting after the plane in my most obvious manner and managed to nab a ride in it. Absolutely stunning evening. You could look out the side of the plane and see every leaf on the trees, it was so clear. Thanks, Ric!

Returned, partied and camped. Mosquitoes snuck into the tent and sucked on me, leaving huge welts. I covered myself with pillows and the sleeping bag to no avail. Frogs belched and sung louder than a marching band. Finally, spent a miserable night huddled in the truck.

Tuesday, conditions were similar to Monday, except the wind decided to ease somewhat. Everyone else stayed up longer than I did. Bob and Sean came down from the North (and kicked our butts). Big turnout again. Howard and John Chambers. Christy Huddle. Many others.

I had two tows for a total of about 40 minutes. Would have kicked myself a lot for falling out of the sky so fast but was too tired to care. Was relaxing around the picnic table when Cindy and George arrived. I scammed a ride in their most gorgeous Decathlon plane. George and I flew for almost an hour. He let me fly some, and stall and dive the plane. We performed 3 loops, which was fun (obviously this is George flying), but my favorite part of the night was quieter. We skimmed the surface of a river, below tree height, for miles. The air was glass and so was the water. We flew over a boat and the people waved. Absolutely one of the coolest things I ever got to do. I will never forget that ride. Thanks, George!

Arrived home around midnight. Slept well in spite of the adrenaline.

Lauren Tjaden

This may be of no interest to anyone, as most of you are long past the beginner stage. Still, I thought I'd write a few paragraphs about a recent training day. (Maybe it'll rekindle some ancient memories for some of you?)

Scott

---

Learning something new can be frustrating. Often it seems you either don't progress as fast as you'd hoped, or you're learning faster than everyone else. For me, hang gliding is somewhere inbetween. Which is okay.

Last weekend, I arrived at the "big pile of dirt" near Dulles Airport for a day of training with John Middleton. The weather looked sketchy, and a drizzle blew in as I set up the Falcon. I began to wonder if I'd driven two hours from Gettysburg for nothing. John suggested we wait, and his instincts were reliable. The rain passed, and we started doing practice runs into a steady 8-10mph breeze.

The ground was muddy, uneven and spiked with weeds. I decided I'd be covered in mud by day's end, which made it easier. John chopped away with his weed trimmer at the tall grass on the dirt pile, clearing a launch strip.

The hill was shorter and steeper than where I started at Oregon Ridge. A bit intimidating at first, but I soon realized I'd get into the air faster. When my fellow students made their first flights, I laughed at my naive notion we'd fly much farther than we did. On my first attempt, the launch was reasonably good, but I blew the flare and plowed into the mud, leaving a dark brown stripe up my right leg. I'd worn shorts with kneepads, but no damage done. Subsequent flights were only marginally better, with a couple more home-plate slides and a couple of running landings. During one awkward landing I turned an ankle. Though sore, it wasn't enough to stop me from a few more launches.

It was the usual comedy of errors: John telling me I didn't pull in enough when I thought I did; John telling me my flare was lame and me having no idea why (because I really tried hard to make it strong-really!). John telling me I was too passive and didn't control the glider, which I didn't. Basically a blur of things to focus on all at once.

After eight launches (I'd hesitate to call them flights), I was feeling a little tired and frustrated at my inability to get the flare down. Perhaps I was too hard on myself. Six weeks had passed since my previous good training day. At some point while moping quietly to myself, the sun broke through the clouds and swallows began darting around the hill. I stood waiting my turn, face turned to the sun, eyes closed. At the sound of a "cheep!" I looked up to see a swallow perched on one of the Falcon's landing wires. A tiny bird on a huge bird. The swallow seemed content, and I watched for a good minute or two before it flew away.

It reminded me of lines by Robert Frost...

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Such are the small pleasures of the new pilot who hasn't yet gotten above the dirt.

The wind swelled into strong gusts toward late afternoon, too strong to continue. But I was able to get in a little ground handling practice. Later, while trudging through the muck with an armful of windsocks, the big nails at the ends of the anchor strings sounded like wind chimes as they gently clinked and pinged together.

So it was a good day. I was frustrated by bad landings, but happy to be outside and experience some small pleasures. I looked up at the little cumulus clouds scudding along, wondering what it would be like to soar beneath them. I wondered how long it'll take to improve my landings. Reading about the occasional whack from experienced pilots doesn't suggest it'll come easy. But that's okay. I'll temper my impatience with an appreciation of each moment.

Hello,

After lurking on this server for the past 4 years I felt I finally needed to make a contribution. I got back into the sport (after a 20 year layoff) by discovering the existance of Highland Aerosports via a tip from Fred Permenter. I took a tandem with Sunny at the 2000 flyin and became hooked on aerotowing. I found out about this list server shortly after and have been a lurker ever since. Over this time I have gleened alot of good information from the posts I have read here, on topics covering safety, equipment, people's experiences and, of course, much humor :-)

I have especially appreciated the frankness and honesty concerning the mistakes people have made and been open about. This is difficult to do because it is hard for people to admit they failed somewhere, but it is extremely helpful to the rest of us (me) that occasionally need a wakeup call. It is in this spirit that I would like to come forward with a mistake I made this past Wednesday while preparing for a flight at Highland.

I was hanging from my harness in the cart after asking Kristen for a hang check. She came over and immediately said, "I don't see any (leg loops)?", in a voice slightly raised in pitch and similiar to a school teacher trying to correct a child in a kind manner. I was in total disbelief at what I just heard, then out of embarrasment I said, "This is the first time this has ever happended!", "Well um you know this is one of the reasons I always hang from my harness after getting in it and um gee this time I didn't do it". I wanted to turn back time. How could I have failed in my checklist?

After much soul searching I believe the reason I failed in my checklist was because I had become distracted, actually I had distracted myself. I was in a playful mood and doing some kidding around and concentrating more on what I was going to do when I got in the air then on what I needed to do at the moment. Strange thing, I always tell myself two things when setting up my glider and preflighting, 1) Never ever be in a hurry. 2) Don't allow myself to be distracted. It seems after this phase is over I become somewhat less vigilant. I need to carry my vigilance throughout the entire period of flight operations . I need to focus more on the fact that flying is a serious endeavor and not a time to be taken lightly. Do I need to consider a written checklist? Also, I hope by writting and sharing this it will help imbend this incident better in my mind and and help me to keep my safety and the safety of others always in the forefront.

I thanked Kristen later for catching my mistake, fortunately she was my backup and THAT worked. She helped prevent me from suffering serious harm to myself.

Paul Adamez

<snip>

Good luck with your training,
Daniel

P.S. Hey, everyone, I finally solo aerotowed yesterday! Thanks to Adam for good prep (he gave me three different mock weak link breaks in tandem training). I had gotten used to wrestling that mack truck tandem glider around the sky; it was a real treat to be so light on the wings of Highland's new Target.

I turned onto final at an appropriate altitude near the end of the field, but with the head wind I didn't use up much field. I landed a LONG way from the spot! Safe enough, but nobody accused me of being a natural at this sport!

Hang One - Check
Hang Two - Check
First Mountain Flight - Check
First Solo Aerotow - Check
First Soaring Flight - CAN'T WAIT!!!

It was stupid-soarable-good :) Everyone soared their butts off. People were landing after a few hours, taking a break, then launching again for an other hour+ flight. Gaggles all over the place. It seemed like the hole penninsula was lifting off. Lift went to around 4k and was moderate and big. Some strong cores, but most were mellow and consistent. By the end of it, you had to search for sink if you wanted to get down.

Who'da thunk it.
Jim

Oh, I'm connected by verizon "express network"... kinda like cellphone internet, but a bit faster than dialup.

Not stupid soarable, it took a bit of finese and knowledge, but the rewards were cloudbase @ 6700' MSL and unlimited boating about. Evening magic kicked in about 1800 til dark. About 10 of the usuall suspects lapped it up......Bob.

Pretty good day. A bit breezier than Saturday, but nothing to write home about. Lift to 3-4k, plenty of drift. Big cummies all over the place to ride under. Good people, good flying. Yum.

Jim

FINALLY!

I had long ago decided to ignore the soaring forecast, and I'm glad I did. Ridgely was great all weekend, despite all prognostications.

Friday Steve and I went 20.5 miles and got to watch as a supercell thuderstorm passed by us while awaiting our ride. Little did we know that Christen (our ride that day) was in the center of the thing at a phone booth trying to find us. Sorry, Christen, and thanks for the ride. 1+30, 4450 MSL.

Saturday was completely overcast with high cirrcus all day long. Relatively cool. No sun. Didn't seem to matter. I had my very first Danny Brotto experience this day. I literally could not get down once I decided to land. Pull VG, do wangs. Do more wangs. Fly over to Ridgely (town). Fly back. Do more wangs. Take VG off. Do more wangs. Spiral dive. Amazing. Wanted to fly formation off of Bruce when I saw him coming up in the Extacy. Could not get down to him. 2+40, 4000 MSL. Landed to do some evening tug work, or else I'd probably still be up there somewhere.

Sunday. Rich Green the prior evening had pronouncing thermonuclear conditions this day. I bring my iodine pills. Figured I might still get home at a reasonable hour by flying a proscribed task, so I follow Tom on a 27 mile crosswind flight-to-goal at Ric Niehause's house (say that 5 times real fast). I should say, I tried to follow Tom - he scraped me off at the 8 mile point and I ended up at goal a good 20 mins behind him. Neither one of us had actually SEEN Ric's house before, so after goofing around looking for it a while, we ended up putting it into a huge field on the highway just beyond his place. Got it in the GPS for next time. 2+30, 4000 MSL, 27.5 miles (approx).

Paul Tjaden went downwind, ran out of landable land somewheres N of Dover, and put her down for 34 miles or so.

-- Joe

OK, OK, So my "fly to the beach" flight wasn't quite the celestial experience that Tom's was (Flipper was a no show and I wasn't about to swim in that nasty smelling, muddy water) but I still had the flight of my life.

Sunday morning, Lauren and I were depressed to read Jim R.'s post about how fabulous Saturday had been at Ridgely. We had planned on flying Saturday but had postponed till Sunday due to the terrible soaring forecast (so much for Dr.Jack). But Sunday looked pretty good so we headed to Ridgely to try our luck.

We set up and launched around 12:30 for 30 minute flights over the field. It was still a little early and the lift was disorganized and light. I got right back in line (lots of pilots there) and launched again at 2:00. Tow was much rowdier this time and I released early at about 2000 feet in decent lift that took me to 3200 as I drifted NE across the field. When I topped out I decided to give it a try and went on glide downwind. Found lift again at about 2000 feet and worked that back up to 3000 plus and that was pretty much repeated for the next 25 miles or so. A few miles downwind Matthew G. caught up with me but he was a bit lower, couldn't quite find the ladder and eventually landed along Rt. 8 somewhere.

About 25 miles out, as I was passing just west of Dover, I found the famous and elusive convergence zone. That was incredible! It was like ridge soaring without the ridge. I was cruising north at 40 miles per hour at 3500 feet like I had a motor. Don't really know how far I could have gone in that spectacular air, because as I continued north from Dover, I ran into a large area of swamp and wet lands called the Cedar Swamp Wildlife Area.

I had three choices. Move further Inland and try to fly around it, turn right and go to the beach or head out across the wetlands and risk becoming the "Swamp Bastard." Well, I said I was going to the beach when I left Ridgely and I didn't want to blow it when it was in my grasp, so sanity ruled. I went on glide arriving at 2000 feet over Collins Beach where there was a boat ramp and an inlet to the bay. Waves on the water proved that the winds were indeed out of the East. I cruised slowly along the water and over some boats in the inlet while I lost altitude and then set up an approach to a small field next to the boat ramp parking lot. Even managed a no step landing (not difficult with the smooth marine air blowing in at 10 knots). Final statistics were 34.2 miles, 3800 feet, and just under 2 hours.

Thanks loads to Karen Carra who picked up Matthew and then proceeded on to retrieve me only 10 minutes after I had broken down. They even brought me a bottle of Gatorade.

Sometimes I can't imagine how I lived 50 years without this sport.

Paul Tjaden

We've been flying all over. Two sites in Nevada, King Mountain, (Bruce gets over 100 miles in two days) Dourghty Slide Yesterday, Lakeridge sites today. I'll post more when we get time.

Hot and dusty, almost miss the East.

Dan T.

I'm usually busy with family stuff around the July 4th holiday, and July 5th is my son's birthday. As such, I never seem to make the Hyner weekend. Since Shawn MacDuff was heading up on Tuesday, I decided to meet him up there as the weather looked great.

Now, Hyner is a 4-hour drive for me. Not right around the corner, but I needed some mountain time, as I am sick of towing. Not that I have done all that much this year anyway...

So off I go at 9:00 AM flat, right to a major traffic jam on the turnpike.

F#$%!

I had the cooler packed, so I did not have to stop at all, other than the stop-and-go nonsense on a so-called "thruway". But I was getting damn uncomfortable. Seems that I took up the relatively safe sport of softball in my town's league, and managed to pull a hamstring quite painfully. Of course I aggravated it enourmously on Monday night, just in time for Tuesday's long drive.

F#$%!

After an hour, it was so numb that I couldn't feel it anymore. After 3 hours I did not think I would be able to lift my foot off the gas pedal. And this was not a pleasant thought, as I was doing 80+ around this time. But I did make it, and hobbled out to see two gliders set-up. Some guy Shawn called T-Bone had just launched, then Will Perez walked over and launched. They got a couple hundred over, then had extended sleds to the LZ.

F#$%!

I set up, then stretched my legs as best as I could. There were nice looking clouds all around except for over the Hyner View area. This lasted for an hour or so as I waited for Shawn to show up. Of course when he got there the blue hole continued, but at least there was some wind coming up. When we got ready to launch, the wind stopped blowing.

F#$%!

He took a cycle and launched, not getting anything much out front, but getting up over to the left of launch about 200-300 feet over. I waited another cycle and ran like hell, and OH NO!

F#$%!

My hamstring totally let go after like the 2nd step. It felt like somebody had shot me in the thigh just as I had committed to running like my life depended on it, which unfortunately, it now did. I nearly stumbled, and thought for sure I was going into the hillside face-first. And that is a steep hill to do a face-plant into. Somehow I save it and managed to get airborne, but it was a real struggle to get my wounded leg into my harness.

F#$%!

I landed first, then Shawn a few minutes later after he found large- scale sink of mass destruction as well. I got the infamous Hyner mixer from 400 feet in, but managed a near-perfect no-stepper in front of my audience-of-one, Will Perez who was sitting in the shade by his glider. I can't remember the last time I landed like that, but then again I can hardly remember the last time I flew... But it's a damn good thing I did, cause I could not have run it out, that's for sure. Now of course Shawn and I had left both our vehicles on the hill, so it was either ride our bikes up (not gonna work with MY bad leg...) or bum a ride, and Will obliged for us.

Shawn was convinced that there was going to be an evening magic cycle, so we quickly broke down and made our way back up the hill. I tied a shirt tightly around my thigh and tried running back and forth a couple of times, and managed to convince myself that I could run a launch cycle one more time, especially at the thoughts of Shawn and I dominating the evening skies, thrilling the crowds at launch with our spectacular flying skills.

We got up there and, what the heck?, the flags were showing clear breezes from the SOUTH!

F#$%! F#$%!

After waiting about an hour, Shawn decided to launch in pretty much dead air. We were so desperate that we joked around with some of the spectators at launch that on the count of three, they all would inhale together to get a breeze flowing up the hill. He wasn't terribly worried about the no-wind situation, but I certainly was. I hadn't done a no-wind foot launch in ages, and I now had a suspect leg. Not all that confidence inspiring. I decided to watch him, then decide whether to bag it or not. After we sweated on launch for an eternity (we warned the spectators that we would be taking our sweet time), Shawn took the first trickle up the hill.

After a great take-off, he sank like a lead balloon.

F#$%! F#$%!

I waited about 15 minutes, I saw a cycle of wind coming up the trees, so I positioned the glider so I could run in a spot that was as smooth as possible. It worked, and by running on my toes like Peter Pan, I managed to get airborne without killing my leg. Yeah, that evening magic was something else. Yes, sir. But I had the flight of the afternoon. I gained 50 feet. Yup 5 - 0 - decimal point. 50 feet. Then the gods tied on my concrete sinker, and down I went. At least it was a scenic cruise, right down the middle of the river for some variation.

F#$%!

By now it was 8:00, so Shawn and I decided to take my truck to get some dinner at Sportsman's. I knew I needed gas for the ride home, but decided to pass on the one open gas station thinking I could get it on the way back. Big F#$%ing mistake!

I had a great steak, and we were surprised to see quite a few folks there that were also on launch. We talked to a bunch of them, some locals, some out-of-towners, but all interested. It was fun. Since it was now dark, I gave Shawn a ride back up the mountain, and we passed the one, now closed, gas station that I knew about. Just then, the low-gasoline warning light came on.

F#$%! F#$%!

Now Shawn also has a Ford Escape, and his analysis of the situation was that I had about 50-60 miles left in the tank. But keep in mind that 1) this was the same guy that said we would be soaring at 5000 feet over launch, not 50 feet, and 2) he wouldn't be pushing the vehicle if it ran out. In any case, I left him and literally coasted down the mountain, using neutral whenever possible. I watched in horror as the gauge plummeted into the red, just as I saw the sign - Lock Haven 22 miles. 22 F#$%ing MILES!

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I turned off everything. I coasted, I used all the road, I even caught myself crouching down to minimize wind resistance, even though it's a modern vehicle with a windshield. I started praying and reciting in all the religions I know of, hoping for divine guidance from somewhere. I had one eye on the gas gauge, and one on the odometer. Occasionally, I looked at the road. At ten miles I started to sweat - I was too far out from ANYTHING to walk, yet the gauge was not registering anything. At fifteen miles, I started hoping for a miracle. At 20 miles, I saw the lights of Lock Haven! It was a miracle! My prayers (not sure what religion I was on at the time) were answered! And then it happened. The first station into town was CLOSED!

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I got to RT 150, looked at the stop sign and had two choices. I could go up the hill to the right, but it was UPHILL and I was on fumes. Worse, it looked dark up there so I went left, where at least there were some lights. After a couple of blocks, I saw it like a mirage - the giant white CITGO sign. YIPPEEE! The pumps beckoned me in and I could see my spot waiting for me right up front. When I pulled in I did a triple-take on the sign on the door - CLOSED. Those bastards left the lights on to tease ME! All the gods of all the world's major religions had consipired to do this to me!

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

So off I went again. I went a block further with no gas stations in sight. In desperation, I stopped next to an Oriental couple and asked them where a gas station was. He asked me if I knew where Wal- Mart was. YEAH RIGHT BUD. I know the Wal-Mart in Princeton, I know it in Feisterville, I have NO F#$%ING IDEA where it is in Lock Haven! Just then my engine died and all the panel warning lights came on.

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I got out of the car, they took off without looking back, and I took stock of my situation. Brilliantly, I decided that the first thing to do would be to push my car out of the middle of the road into a parking spot. I then grabbed my cellphone and wallet, and took off like Lawrence of Arabia across the Sahara. I was on a mission - gasoline or bust.

I came across another couple, and asked them for directions to an OPEN gas station. They pointed me off into the distance, saying it was only 7-8 blocks. I was at their mercy, so off I went. Now remember, I have a severely cramped leg. 7-8 blocks does not come easy to me at this point. After about a mile, I saw some promising lights and lots of cars. Hey, now we're talking! Of course there were lots of F#$%ing cars - it was a FORD dealer! Closed of course. I decided to use the ATM machine across the street, cause I only had 15 bucks on me, and I figured that I might have to bribe somebody somewhere. Either that or if I was robbed, they might get really pissed that I only had 15 bucks on me and shoot me in my good leg or something.

I went into the ATM building and the terminal screen blared out "closed for maintenance".

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I remember seeing a cartoon as a kid of a bunch of Greek gods hurling lightning bolts down at some poor bastard below. That poor bastard was me...

I wandered down the street and found a Best Western motel. Hey, now I'm getting somewhere. I figured they could tell me where a gas station was, and if worse came to worse, I could at least stay there for the night, as it was getting darned late. Yup, gas was just around the corner, sir. Here's a map. As I took off down the road, I saw a cop sitting at the corner. I went up to him, explained my situation, and he said "get in". Normally, I would have kissed his badge, but since I was still dodging lightning bolts, I figured he was going to take me to the slammer for some case of mistaken identity. "Hey Sarge - I captured the notorious serial cat killer!" Or something like that...

But NO, he drove me to the most beautiful place I had seen all day - a 24-HOUR MINI-MART! They even sold portable GAS CANS!!!!! And Slurpees!!!!!! And working gas pumps!!!!! Hallelujah!

So I bought a can, a slurpee, and a gallon of precious fuel. My cop buddy had taken off (guess the real serial cat killer must have struck again), so I had to find my way back. But I saw the motel in the distance, so I was not lost.

On the way back to the car, half out of breath, I decided to call my wife at home. Not thinking that I was out on a hang gliding day, I brilliantly said, "Uh, I had a little problem today." Of course she interpreted that immediately to mean 3 broken bones, a concussion, and 80 stitches. After I calmed her down, I explained my situation. I'll have to use a better opening line next time...

I got to the car and set down my can of liquid gold and, what's this?

F#$%!

The spout for the cheapo plastic can I bought was JUST barely long enough to get through the flap in my Escape's gas filler! I had to hold it in with my finger while I poured the can. Of course the can had no F#$%ing gasket, so gas started pouring all down the side of the car, splashing up my legs as it hit the street! Oh my god, I'm only getting about half of this crap into the tank!!!!

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I could not get all of the gas out, as I could not stand the can up far enough with the nozzle in the car's tank. I think I got a quart in, but that would be enough to get it back to the station for a fill- up. But I had gas all over the sidewalk, all down my hands and arms, and on my legs. If the gods threw another lightning bolt at me, I was going up like a Kuwaiti oil well.

I put the can into a garbage pail and went into my car for a shirt and water from my cooler. I proceeded to give myself a bath right out in the street, much to the delight of several passers-by. Some reject from 2 Fast 2 Furious beeped his horn. I was just praying he wouldn't throw a lit cigarette at me.

After disposing of my rags, I got in the car and it started!!!! I went back to the gas station and filled it up to the brim. Hey, I already spilled it all over the car, what's a little more?

It was now past 11:00, and I still had a 3 hour drive. I went back the way I had come, stopping at the corner where I made my original decision to turn. I went onward, up the dark hill that I did not take the first time. At the top of the hill, was a GIGANTIC, OPEN GAS STATION!!!!!!! And a block later, 2 GIGANTIC, OPEN competing stations were on the same corner!!!!

F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!
F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%! F#$%!

I felt like crying, which was actually a good thing. My contact lenses had dried out terribly, but I could not remove them because my hands still reeked of gasoline. So I cranked the air conditioner and the radio to keep myself awake, and onward I drove, hoping to outrace the hurled lightning bolts.

I got into bed at 2:15 AM, and was in work by 9.

All that for 12 minutes of flying.

john F#$%!ing wiseman

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This page last updated July 3, 2003