Loma Lisa Otra Vez

-- Christy Huddle

This was our fourth trip to the competition in Venezuela so we considered ourselves old hands at it. On our first trip everything was new. Each subsequent trip was more like a homecoming. The latest trip took place March 19-30.

Kevin and I were looking forward to seeing Federico again. Hewlett Packard had enticed him back to Venezuela in 1997, a better job and a warmer climate. We were going to enjoy the warmer climate with him - not that it was all that cold back home.

When we got off the plane in Caracas, Federico was there to greet us. We discovered that our gliders had not made the connection in Miami because of the storms that had shut down the airport off and on all day. To kill time Federico decided to show us the landing field for the big mountain (Avila) that the Caracas pilots enjoy 45 minute morning sleds from. We were hoping to fly from Avila on our return trip. We suffered a couple of slight delays on the way. The first was on the way to the LZ when we had to get a nail pulled out of the tire of the borrowed Blazer. The second was on the way back to the airport when we stopped to quaff a couple of beers at a seaside restaurant.

Back at the airport we discovered our gliders hadn't fit on the 7:30 plane, but we were assured they would come on the 9:30 flight. Waiting by the baggage area for our gliders we were able to greet Ryan Glover (Wallaby Ranch) who was the only other US pilot in the competition. Unfortunately for Ryan (and Federico), he'd shipped his glider cargo and would have to spend the whole next day with Federico getting it out of customs. Not to mention that it cost almost twice as much (if you include taxes, etc.) to ship it cargo. Federico drove us out to the Hotel Onix in La Victoria where we were in our respective beds by 1:30 am.

Friday morning we put our gliders together in the room off the hotel lobby and waited for Gladys and the van. She runs a few small tour vans that normally take tourists to the beach or the jungle. Once a year, they are used to take hang glider pilots to launch and pick them up from their XC flights. It took over an hour to get the racks on and wire up the radio. Kevin rigged something through the fuse for the headlight. Breakfast at La Fortaleza, a commercial strip in town. The pattern is this. You go to the little grocery store/juice bar and buy a tomato, a yoghurt/cereal container, and a box of cookies. You go next door and hand the tomato to the guy at the sandwich counter and ask for un sandwich con queso, jamon, y tomate - no salsa (AKA mayonaise). While he makes the sandwich you eat the yoghurt and go to the third store in the row for a piña batido (pineapple shake) or better yet a mandarina batido (mandarine shake). You stroll back to see how the guy is doing on your sandwich, unless you are having the MASH Radar look-alike making it, in which case, you sip your batido in the booth for a half hour. Sandwich paid for, you grab your spot in the van and wait for Kevin. We had 6 pilots in the van each day me and Kevin, Henry, Raphael and Suzie from England (she was originally from Holland, but married a Venezuelan pilot and is now living in England), Roy and Ricky from Colombia (father and son pilots), and Ryan Glover. Henry wasn't with us the first day and neither was Ryan - busy getting his glider out of customs.

The wind on launch the first day there was strong and from the south. Not a good sign. We all launched and had sleds straight to Guacamaya. It didn't matter. Kevin and I were still tired from the trip and this gave us a chance to catch up on our sleep. After showers to get the dust off, Kevin and I had dinner at Soco's, decent meals (white table linen place) for $6-10, then sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to close the window. The cosmetic factory next to the hotel must have been making the caked powder and it stank. The next morning I beat the alarm clock, do some warm up exercises, take a shower, pack my harness, lug the harness down to the van and help load on the gliders (which are stored in the room next to the reception and lobby). Breakfast at La Fortaleza and at launch by 11:00 am. Since it's Saturday there are already a few local pilots setting up. The site has plenty of set-up area and several places where you can run off so crowding is rarely a problem.

I didn't launch until 3:15 or so. It was blowing strong from the south again and the thermals were getting blown apart. One of the other pilots was getting too close to me for comfort in the bowl in front of launch so I bailed around the back hoping for something there. No luck. I was on the ground (good landing) after 10 minutes. Ricky put his glider in the trees, having made one 360 too many and getting low behind the tree line. One leading edge and a downtube.

After a shower and dinner, we signed up for the competition. So many of us were veterans of the competition that they dispensed with the pilots' meeting. Just as well since the sign up was running an hour and half behind schedule.

Sunday was the first day of the competition. Conditions were the same, a strong south wind. Lots of pilots were scratching in the bowl so I waited to launch. Kevin was already on the ground in Guacamaya when I came in to land. He radioed that the air was still on the ground so I burned it in - not often that you can land without the wind switching around. I wasn't quite fast enough, though. On my final the wind came up, from behind of course, and my speedy approach had an even speedier final. I bonked it pretty good, but didn't bend any metal. Federico had made it back from Caracas that morning and was in the LZ to greet me. Ryan made it to goal even though the coordinates for the turnpoint put him over the middle of the Valencia Lake. He correctly figured that the antenna he was supposed to be circling around was to the south and duly found it and took the required turnpoint photo, started his return to goal, but then made the mistake of following another lost pilot to a different antenna before again turning to goal. It added 45 minutes or so to his race to goal.

Kevin and I had dinner with the Dittmars (Richard and Chris) and their three girls, Daniella, Suzanna, and Eugenia or Ita, Suzy, and Eu for short. Italian food at Pizza Mario's, a popular place among the local pilots, particularly since the restaurant is sponsoring one of the local pilots in the competition.

On Monday the conditions on launch looked more promising. The task was to Las Taguanes about 70 miles to the west. No chance I'd ever get that far but, just in case, I loaded the coordinates into my GPS. I launched around 215 and got right up. But I lost it. I flew around the back of the ridge where I'd seen quite a few pilots find lift, but no luck. A few more bubbles of light lift on the way down. I drifted low and north and landed in another field used by Guacamaya regulars. Roy was already there. Kevin had made it to Casupitu (a little over 11 miles) and Ryan had made it to goal - the only one.

That evening Kevin, Henry and I caught the bus to Gran Campo, the other classy restaurant in town. After a big meal we walked back to the hotel. Henry, by the way, is a barrister in England. On the job he has to wear a black gown and one of those funny horsehair wigs.

Tuesday at launch the committee posted the task, then changed it, then removed it completely from the board. We then learned that the military base in the area had forbidden us to fly that day - one too many pilot had violated their airspace the day before and they wanted to teach us a lesson. In any case, some rain clouds moved in to the west of us and we broke down our gliders and returned to the hotel. Kevin and I ran part of the way down the mountain when the van's brakes started overheating and the driver stopped to let them cool. And speaking of cooling off, I bought a fan for the room. When I'd turned on the air conditioning vent in my room the first time, it spewed moldy smelling air so I stopped using it. It was much hotter than previous years and I needed something to push the air around just to sleep through the night.

After a swim in the hotel pool, I joined the crowd heading for the Estadero for grilled meat. Tables were pulled into a big square with all the pilots around the outside. Four big grills were placed at strategic points and the food just kept coming. Opening dishes of salad stuff, then the various meats and sausages, the yucca in its various cooked forms, and beer and batidos. We learned how to do the sign of the "bufalo" when someone burped. The party escalated into a food fight and mass exodus to the nightclubs. I bailed to the hotel to get some sleep and read my book.

Wednesday morning the task was called for Los Aguacates, about 55 miles to the west. With Kevin now in the lead (in our private duel), I had more motivation to fight to get up. Leaving cloudbase at launch I moved west to the L where I got to cloudbase again. I stayed high as I followed the ridge line west about 12 miles. Arriving in Villa de Cura I took a picture of the turnpoint antenna and continued on course. I started up the valley west of Villa, and remembered something a pilot had said a couple of years before. If you were high enough to get to the top of the ridge that bordered the valley on the south side, you could make it to the fields that were on the other side of the ridge. So I made a run for it.

I got to the ridge about 500 over and found plenty of lift on top. Which was a good thing since I certainly didn't see any fields, just foothils. I ran along the ridge a bit until the valley on the other side opened up and I could see the race track (second turnpoint). My harness was getting pretty uncomfortable by this time (the padding I'd put on the leg straps had become bunched up and was digging into my left hip something fierce) and I was going to have to land to do something about the pain. I eased over to the south side of the track to take the picture and went a couple more miles to west so I could land next to the town of Belen. There was a nice unused field there. My landing was fine, but I wasn't. I could barely move. I asked the farmer who came up to see me if he would carry my glider to the edge and it was a half hour before I could walk without a major limp. Two more pilots came in after me, one of whom had a driver on the way. I bought the driver (who wasn't actually driving us back) and her friend beers and two for myself for the long trip back. I'd flown 31 miles in 2 hours and 17 minutes. My longest and most painful flight of the trip.

On Thursday, the task was even longer, way off my map. I don't think I even loaded the coordinates it was so far. Henry gave me some over the counter pain pills and I launched at 2:30, knowing they were good for an hour. After getting to cloud base over launch and at the L, I cruised to Casupito with the help of one more thermal. In Casupito I climbed into a thermal being worked by Kevin and another pilot. Kevin left it first and flew southwest following the ridge line. I stayed over the road north of and parallel to the ridge and was luckier in finding lift. Watching Kevin get lower and lower near La Horqueta I figured he was dead meat. I continued on, finding light lift here and there, until I had Villa de Cura on an easy glide. In fact, I boated over the field for 15 minutes to get a good fix on the wind direction and possible turbulence. I picked out a big field where sugar cane was in various stages of growth. Part of the field was still bare and there was a sprinkler to help give me on wind direction and speed. I landed heading west which put me nearest the main road, 18.4 miles from launch. The kids who greeted me got the full treatment a lesson on how to use the instruments, how to fly, how to bag a glider. Cookies all around. Three kids stayed on to help me carry the glider to the nearest refreshment stand where I waited for the ride back to the hotel. We had dinner with Roy and his wife Marta at a pasta place. Roy showed me how to use the tracking log on my GPS which I'd never emptied and consequently was full to the brim.

Friday morning a 60-mile task to the south was called. Conditions weren't looking quite as good though, so I knew I'd be lucky to get to the airport in San Juan (where I was inadvertently sucked into a cloud a couple of years ago). Once again, I was one of the last to launch. I didn't find anything in the bowl, but lucked out around the back this time. I found a bubble that got me high enough to head for the L and in the L, I found another one that got me high enough to start the trek south. I worked a few more tiny bubbles over the ridge southwest of the L, but to no avail. Getting lower and lower, I picked out a field, burbled along, picked out another field, and went on in. Final spot was Tucutunemo, 14.7 miles from launch. (No points for spelling here.) I couldn't tell if the wind was blowing up or down the valley, so I split the difference. Just as well. It was blowing both ways. I broke down in the sun (it was HOT), carried the glider across the street, with the help of the kids,

and waited an hour and a half for the van. Unfortunately the van was going south so I ended up spending the next 5 hours either in the van or waiting in a roadside dump/restaurant waiting for Roy to get his glider out of the hills. Three watermelon batidos and one beer for dinner. I found out that Kevin had only gotten as far as Zuata so that was some consolation. He had smelled a long retrieval wait and had popped for 15,000 bolivares (about $30) to get a ride back to La Victoria. Amazingly, Ryan had sunk out in Guacamaya - not good since he was the only one who had made goal everyday. This flight ultimately put him in 4th place.

Everyone was in slow motion on Saturday morning. The gliders were loaded at 930, a half hour later than normal. Conditions were cloudier than on previous days which made setting up a little cooler. I launched late as usual and, not finding anything in the bowl, headed around back. No luck there either. Sixteen minutes of flight and I was in Guacamaya. Once again, Kevin had landed in Zuata, this time taking a bus back to the hotel where he met the van for the trip back to his glider in Zuata. He finally got to the restaurant La Encruciada for his spit roasted chicken sandwich. (And he brought one back to share with me in celebration of my victory - by 95 points.)

I had dinner with Raphael at Soco's then back to the hotel for the awards party. Ryan couldn't attend - he'd had several beers too many and was out of commission in the hotel room he shared with the Colombian pilots. Sandy Dittmar got first place as usual and Luis Ruizo of Colombia got second place as usual. (Luis is studying to be a composer. Every day you would find him on launch inking in a page or two of musical composition before setting up his glider.) Kevin got the Guacamaya de Oro award which was a neat little plaque made by Sandy's girlfriend Isabel. The master of ceremonies (a South American look-alike of Bill Clinton) mentioned the private competition between me and Kevin and something about our loyalty to the competition in Loma Lisa and the fact that I'd beat Kevin, at which point three pilots picked me up and started tossing me into the air. The party degenerated into a condom-water balloon fight around 11:30.

The next morning we packed up for the ride into Caracas with Federico and Perico (nicknamed after a scrambled egg dish that features tomato) and his wife. The car was full to the brim when we pulled out of La Victoria. A few stops in Caracas to drop off gliders, Perico and his wife (they were lending Federico their Blazer), and other stuff, and to pick up Suzy and her husband and a Brazilian pilot for a trip to Guatire. We were hoping to get one last flight in Venezuela. The Guatire site is outside Caracas to the east and if it's a good day you can get high and see the beach. It wasn't a good day. We got to launch late and by the time we were ready to jump off the thermal cycles had disappeared. The Brazilian launched first and had a quick sled to the LZ. Suzy was next, followed by me and then Kevin. Suzy and I found a little lift, but Kevin was the airhog of the day with something in the order of 15 minutes. We all had good landings, briefly disrupting a softball game in the LZ.

That night Sandy, Isabel, and Federico treated me and Kevin to a huge steak dinner in Caracas. Kevin's steak was about the size of the Montgomery County phone book (yellow pages). Mine was much smaller, (Harpers Ferry phone book) but there were three of them, just for me. Back at Federico's 18th floor apartment in Caracas we showered and hit the sack. The alarm was to go off at 4 am, just 4 hours away. I only got to sleep half the night. It was just too hot, even after I snuck out to the balcony at 2 am.

We had an easy time getting back home. Federico had a business trip early in the morning so we ended up going with him which got us to the airport four hours early. This gave us plenty of time to short-pack the gliders in the air conditioned comfort of the airport. I even dried out my glider a bit (it started raining the night before and was still raining on the drive to the airport). After a brief spar with the American Airlines staff over whether or not our gliders would fit on the Airbus (they insisted the gliders wouldn't fit; I insisted they would) they checked again and put the gliders on. In Miami we breezed through customs and within seconds of getting my stuff outside at National, Doug was pulling up to the curb.