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Hangola December 25, 1998

Dec 25 1998

Marc Fink, Judy and myself decided to take advantage of the sunny day at High Rock. Marc said that if it managed to get above 32 it was conceivable that there would be some good thermaling. It was the first time that I had been there since we poured the steps. The form was still in place and I felt gratified that there apparently had been no assaults on the construction. Anticipating a layer of ice, I brought a shovel a pick-ax and salt. It turned out all that I needed was a broom to brush off about 1/4" of snow. I went into the woods, cut some branches, fashioned a pine wisk and cleared the snow. About the time I was finished Marc showed up explaining that just north of the bridge above the reservoir he had come across a nasty head-on. (You can still see the skid mark, it's about 100 feet and cuts across the center line) He had spent about an hour playing traffic cop. Fortunately there were no critical injuries.

We took my car down to the LZ. Emma wasn't home and the porch was guarded by a large hungry looking German Shepard. We met Judy at the top and set up.

Wuffos came and went quickly as the temperature made a glacial creep to 32 degrees. My optimistic declarations that "It's going to turn on any minute" were met with mumbling groans and shaking heads. About 1:30 I decided that I had time to make an experimental sled and be ready to fly again by 3:30. It was easy to get Marc and Judy to agree and I launched. I could hear jawbones hit the cube as I got lift right off of launch and there were some workable small thermals over the rock pile. I was like a puppy in a flock of sheep. I managed about 10 passes, mushing and mangling my thermals. M&J had disappeared to jump into their harnesses.

After I landed Judy launched and did a beautiful job of maintaining speed and making good turns. Making something out of seemingly nothing, she patiently worked it to about 200 over for 10 minutes or so and finally flushed out.

Marc launched shortly after Judy and would have done well except that he was forced to make evasive manuevers as an ultra-lite in trouble approached from the south. It was porpoising along the ridge backfiring smoke rings. Through my binoculars I could just make out a large fellow in the open cockpit with sweat matted hair and soaking red flight suit. Apparently the engine was just about dead and in order to stay airborne was using some sort of tow provided by some kind of deer or moose. The pilot didn't seem to see Marc until he was quite close and made a hard left that turned into something that resembled an accordian doing a barrel role. As he inverted he dumped an empty sack. Screaming about FAA regulations he then disapeared, backfiring over the next ridge.

Upon investigation the empty sack was found to have the embroidered name "Dan Tomlinson".

Merry Christmas to All and to All a good flight! (Especially you Dan)

Ed

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This page last updated December 25, 1998