Well, I said that I usually don't do a lot of flying during the fall months. The problem with trying to pick the good days is that they don't always correspond with your schedule. You don't want to waste a kitchen pass on an average day for fear the following weekend will turn epic. So you keep waiting. Only, the next thing you know five months have gone by.
Anyway, after what seemed like weeks of offshore winds we finally saw a change in the weather pattern. The offshore stuff had given way to a series of cold fronts. Just what you like to see when flying in Santa Barbra. Earlier in the week Robert Millington had flown out to the interstate (60+ miles)in about two and a half hours in classic post-frontal conditions. The forecast called for another storm to come through Saturday afternoon to early Sunday morning, leaving Sunday afternoon and Presidents' Day post-frontal. We were to celebrate my son's birthday at the paintball park on Sunday so Monday was my day to fly.
As I've mentioned in the past the problem with post-frontal days in Santa Barbara is that often times the winds can be too strong over the back and or cloud base too low for a great flight. On Sunday the winds were OTB for most of the day. And looking at the forecast it looked like cloud base might be an issue for Monday. But the lapse rate look good to about 6k and the winds light SW. I talked Owen Morse into joining me for the trek up. Tony Deleo graciously volunteered to drive for us. We would pick up Tom Truax along the way.
Well, cloud base ended up being an issue. It was a fun short flight, albeit an expensive one.
Owen hadn't flown XC toward the east before so I played tour guide. I got up to cloud base (3500ft) above the Thermal Factory and then flew out to the Antenna Farm where Owen was getting established. Cloud base was low, but the lift was pretty much everywhere. Because of the low base, I had to take a line to Shadow Peak before making my way over to Montecito.
Back at the Antenna Farm I assumed that Owen saw me go on glide and followed behind. However, that wasn't the case so I hung out on the east spine of Montecito waiting for him to catch up.
Another quick climb to cloud base at East Romero and then off to the east with Owen in tow.
Back at launch it looked like base was high enough east of Romero to at least give the Casitas Pass a shot; by the time we got to the area things had filled in, however. East of Castle Ridge I had hoped to skirt along the bottom of the clouds, but the lift was just too prevalent and so I had to bail off to the SE to avoid getting whited out. Owen was still back a bit so I got on the radio to say that I was forced off of the range and that he might want to consider turning around. However, right after that, Tom, who had launched before us, transmitted that he had climbed to 7200 ft up the face of the clouds just behind Cate school. That prompted everyone to head out to the front points, including Robert Millington and John Hesch who were just behind us on the range.
After getting back to base at Snowball I pushed along the front points east hoping to find the same lift as Tom. Barring that the idea was to work my way up Laguna Ridge, which was still below base. I'd get to cloud base there and then peek over the side to see what kind of glide I would need in order to get to the fields north of Lake Casitas. Unfortunately, I didn't find lift at the base of Laguna so I decided to go for and out and return instead. But I got stuck in a hole, along with Owen and John Hesch (Robert turned around at Snowball), and never got high enough to get back on course. Owen and John landed in the big field just south of the yellow portion of the track log. The LZ was someone's personal polo ground. I wasn't sure how we would be received so I opted for Cate school instead. It turned out that those guys were more welcomed than I was.
Cate School. The tracklog is cut off a bit. I landed in right center field, only this isn't an updated image. The school has added new landscaping. See Below for my crude rendering:
I indicated earlier that it was a fun but expensive flight. I took out two downtubes and a corner bracket dodging the newly added trees.
Time: 1:18 Distance: 14 Miles Max Alt: 3,600 ft.
Tom would end up landing in Fillmore. Let's just say that he didn't actually climb up the face of the cloud when he reached 7200 ft.
I'm still around. I haven't posted because I haven't had anything to write about. All the family and personal stuff is now on Facebook, and as far as the flying stories, well, like I just said, there hasn't been anything to write about. It's been a terrible year since my last entry. Four out of my ten flights ended up on the deck in front launch -- I think that the last time that I flushed right from launch was back in 2001. On two other occasions I landed early while the other pilots I was flying with ended up setting site distance records. And even though the remaining flights were okay they all ended in disappointment for one reason or other.
Despite the fact that I only fly about 10 to 12 times a year each year I try to make it my goal to break some sort of personal record, whether it be my longest flight in general or a first from a particular site. During the first half of last year I had several personal bests, but with the end of summer here it was beginning to look like this would be the first year in a long time where it didn't happen. Generally, I don't do a lot of flying between the end of summer and the first of the year when Santa Barbara begins to turn on (well, potentially turns on).
During a normal year, August and early September is the time when we see "Four Corners" highs set up, which bring in SE winds and sub-tropical moisture. Here in So Cal SE winds are desirable because they keep the marine air at bay -- no marine air no inversion layers. And other than during the spring rainy season most of the flying done here is under blue skies so a little moisture is always welcomed, with the operable word being "little." Often times it will OD due to too much moisture. Still, it's always a good idea to clear the calendar when the weatherman starts talking about Four Corner highs. But so far this year we've only seen one brief 1 or 2 day period where the high has set up, and with October around the corner it just didn't seem we'd get another chance at a long flight. But, just when you think the best of the flying season is over...
...Along comes a pretty good weather forecast. If late summer means a chance of sub-tropical moisture, fall means the chance of offshore Santa Ana winds. The Friday through Monday forecast was for hot temperatures and offshore winds. But with no upper level support the winds were supposed to be relatively light, allowing the possibility of flying the front range from either Kagel or Crestline. Light offshore winds can be conducive to excellent flying, because if you can get off the hill you have good chance of finding a convergence if and when the seabreeze comes in. Now having said that, this four day forecast showed only the winds above 6k as being offshore. Below 6k, depending on the model, the early afternoon winds were predicted to be either SW, south or SE. Other than RUC, which was showing SE winds all day, the models had a light due west wind push through by the end of the day. That it is, below 6k. Above 6k it was supposed to be east all day.
Despite the lower level winds not being offshore there was no prediction of an inversion layer, which is exactly what you hope for when flying the front range. No inversion layer usually equals high climbs. And sure enough, the predicted tops for the four day forecast straddled 10,000 feet (14k for Monday). Since my son had a football game on Saturday, Sunday was my day to fly.
As I watched the forecast leading up to Sunday the only inconsistency was the amount of north and south influence in the upper winds and just when or if the west was supposed to push through. On some runs the call was for it to be SE throughout boundary layer all day (on Sunday that is what RUC was still calling for) so the thought was a possible flight to the beach from Crestline. But as we got closer to Sunday the upper level NE presented itself consistently with each model run along with the late afternoon west push. We'd have to see how things panned out once we got in the air, but an out and return flight to the west seemed the better call.
Our crew consisted of Jonathan Dietch, Scott Smith, Peter Debillis(sp?)and me. Bruce Barmakian was fighting a cold and graciously volunteered to drive for us. We were to meet Dan DeWeese at the Crestline launch. One person that was missing that I had hoped would be there was Owen Morse. Since Owen owns the both the open distance and out and return records it would be only fair that he'd be there to defend them. Besides, Owen is one of my flying buddies.
Dealing with dust devils. Photo by Jonathan Dietch
The morning flow was out of the north so the decision was to head to Marshall instead of Crestline. Dan opted to wait out the winds at Crestline. The winds were south at the LZ when we left at about 10:30, but it was blowing down at Marshall when we arrived. It wasn't until just before 1:00 when the first switch indicating dust devil presented itself. A few more would show up with one flipping over Chris Van Veldon's glider (no harm) within an inch of mine. While most of us were dodging the dust devils Jonathan decided to launch to take advantage of the convergence. Other than an hairy moment before he had a chance to walk his glider down to launch it ended up panning out for him. Soon after take off he was high enough to take a glide to the back ridge. It wasn't until about 1:30 when the rest of us worked our way down to take-off with Scott leading the way. An earlier launching PG struggled to hook into something in front of us and had to bail off to the west. But that wasn't the case for Scott and I. Soon after getting airborne, both of us quickly made our way to 9k+. Looking out to the west I noticed that PG had skyed out too. It was obvious the line to take was due west rather than to step back to the higher ground.
However, I spent more time concentrating on my radio than what line to take. Dummy me walked out of the house with out a radio. Luckily Jonathan had one to spare. Unfortunately, somehow during my initial climb both my headset and PTT connections came undone. Anyone watching my glide must have wondered what the heck I was doing as I was flying with one and sometimes no hands trying to get the plugs reconnected. Talk about PIO.
After burning off more altitude than I should have I had to decide whether or not to continue on to the San Gabriels or search around for one more boost. I was out in front of Pine Mountain at the time. With Scott in tow I opted to continue on. In the middle of the Cajon Pass I stopped to work a little pop. It didn't seem like it was going to take me anywhere so I blew it off and continued my trek west. As I continued on I looked back to see what Scott was doing and to my chagrin he was climbing out in the thermal that I had just passed up. Oh well.
Down to just under 5k I found some light lift just west of Lytle Creek on the foothills of the San Gabriels. The core was a bit elusive but the air was pretty smooth. Scott had joined me after a few hundred foot gain and having another pilot there helped in finding the thermal's sweetspot. There's nothing more pleasurable than when a thermal opens up as you reach altitude. The lift gets stronger but the air becomes smoother. This particular thermal was perfect example. It was so smooth in fact, that by the time I topped out somewhere over 11k, I finally was able to get my radio wires sorted out. Well, at least to where I could hear people; for some reason the PTT wouldn't work.
Scott was having radio issues too. His PTT wasn't working from the beginning so the idea was for us to stay close together. But once I topped out and went on my glide to the west end of Cucamunga Peak I never saw him again. At the western side of Cucamunga I had to fall off the main spine after not finding anything over the high ground. It didn't take long to dial into something. The lift was the strongest of the day -- Owens Valley type stuff. But just as I was thinking that I was going to be taken to the stratosphere the lift just disappeared. Not finding anything again after a brief search, I decided to take my 10k and move on.
Now with a semi-working radio I could hear Jonathan report that he was making a play for Monrovia Peak with the idea to continue on with an open distance flight west. Not long after that, however, he reported that he was getting flushed off the mountain and was now going to attempt an out and return, with running into an headwind a contributing factor.
With something close to 10k above Ontario Peak I still had a tailwind. And that remained the case by the time that I reached Silver Mountain in the mid 5ks just west of Monrovia Peak. The mountain range between the San Gabriel Reservoir and Mount Wilson is fairly shallow with no real distinct spines to stop to work. At least not if you're not high enough to give Monrovia Peak a chance, which I wasn't. However I did get enough of a boost at Silver Mt. to make a play for Clam Shell Peak with the idea that if I didn't get up there I would turn around. If it didn't work I'd still have enough altitude to play with for the return flight. But, if I could get up at Clam Shell I'd have no problem tagging Mount Wilson. Well, Clam Shell worked and soon after that I was topping out at 9,500 feet above Wilson for the return trip home.
Radio reports indicated that only Jonathan and I flew west of Cucamunga. Peter had decided to step back to Mount Baldy for the view before heading back and Dan decided that once he tagged Cucamunga he'd attempt to fly east to San Grogornio before turning back again to land at Andy Jackson. He was successful. Up ahead Jonathan was now busy working the front points above San Dimas.
From Wilson I made my way back to Clam Shell, but for the return flight it was only good for a couple of the 360s(looking at my track I had given up and headed out a bit west of where I actually had my initial climb out). From Clam Shell I wouldn't hit anything to stop for until I reached Glendora Ridge, which is located just on the other side of the wash that leads up to the San Gabriel Reservoir.
East of Glendora Ridge there are a series of low points at the base of Cucamunga. Skimming the tops of them isn't the best place to be, but they seem to work. More than one of them has a long shallow spine running to the west; on the two occasions that I've been through here, which includes Sunday's flight, I just put my glider on it's ear and let the west wind do the rest. In both cases, though, the lift only got me high enough to make an attempt at the next point down range. During the first time through, which was during a flight from Sylmar, that remained the case until I finally flew off the end of the mountain range at the Cajon Pass. On Sunday, even though I had gone through much lower, getting down to 3,700 ft at one point, I managed to dial into something much sooner that enabled me to work my way to the high ground in front of Cucamunga Peak.
A video of the area from our flight from Sylmar last year.
Once I stepped back to Cuc, however, and didn't really find anything, I started thinking that I made a mistake. That that late in the day the lift that I had just left was being generated by converging air. I decided that perhaps it was better to angle back out to the front of the range. Of course, that didn't stop me from giving the back ridge one last shot before heading out over the Cajon Pass. Well, it didn't work so it was out to the front points again. Especially when I heard on the radio that it was blowing down in the LZ at Andy Jackson. If it was blowing down there it would definitely be blowing north through the Pass. Perhaps I would blunder into a convergence that would get me into goal?
Earlier on the radio I could hear that Jonathan was going to make it back to goal. I was happy for him, but the devil inside me wanted to show him up a bit with a grand unannounced entrance. I left the end of the San Gabriel range with 7,000 ft; by the time that I crossed the 215 I was up to 7,800 ft -- all on a straight glide. I had indeed found the convergence.
Distance: 86.89 miles for a new out and return record. Duration: 4:36 hours for more than likely a personal best. Max Altitude: 11,200 feet
Two years ago I said that I wasn't going back to Blackhawk again. I wrote at the time that either I have lousy flight or I have to end a good one early because of my motion sickness problem; either way, I end up on the ground in triple digit temperatures feeling absolutely terrible. But since I made that pact with myself I've been back there three times averaging 104 miles a flight. So now I have a new site that I'm never going back to, Garlock.
The forecast going into Sunday wasn't stellar, but it was consistent. From the beginning of the week on, each model run said pretty much the same thing; for the desert, light SE winds below 11,000 ft with lift to about the same height. Blackhawk probably would have worked, but with the SE winds there would be a chance that we would run into airspace issues. Because of that, and for a bit of variety, we opted to go to Garlock instead.
Garlock is located about 30 miles north of Mojave just a bit south of where the 395 and 14 meet. Don't quote me on this, but it seems to be the north terminus of the Tehachipi mountain range. Launch is just under 5,000 ft and is even more barren than Blackhawk. Take off faces south. The prevailing winds here are generally SW. Because of China Lake, which is located due north of launch, pilots going XC have to either angle NE toward the Panamint Valley or NNW toward the Owens. Going up into Owens and flying the Sierra Mountains is, by far, more desirable, but it requires a SE wind; on Sunday that is what we were supposed to get and so that was our intention.
On Sunday Jonathan Dietch and I met up with Tony and Eddy at Jawbone Canyon at 10:30 before heading up to launch where we were to meet up with Bruce, Owen Morse, another pilot named Marcus (sorry, I don't the last name) and of course Wally the driver. To my pleasant surprise, Chris Van Veldon was with them when we pulled up to launch. The wind was crossing from the east when we arrived.
The other crew was almost completely set up by the time that we arrived so we quickly slapped our gliders together to catch up. Only, when I finish doing so I noticed that I failed to tie my VG line off and it was nowhere to be seen. It had disappeared up the downtube. Let's just say that when something like that happens you just can't stick your finger up there to pull it down. The LS4 is a great glider, but Moyes' downtube corner bracket system is one of the worse designs I've ever seen. Luckily for me it was still cross; without all the help I received I might be still up there.
At some point while getting the glider back together the winds turned upslope and pilots started piling off of the hill with Tony leading the way. Although no one seemed in danger of bombing out, no one was skying out either. I had only flown Garlock one other time; after struggling around launch I finally found my ticket out by heading over to the eastern most spine on the ridge. Because of that experience I headed directly to the same spot after launching on Sunday. However, this time the spine didn't produce. Owen was there with me, and although we did gain some height the lift was short lived. At about the same time both Chris and Marcus were working something near launch. Owen made the first move in their direction and then I followed after. Tony, Jonathan and Bruce were already on their way north.
Because I was the last person to the lift I was the low man on the totem pole. And as we climbed out and drifted behind launch the gap widened. Sensing that was about to be left behind I decided to fly back out in front of launch to see if I could find something else. I was rewarded with 1500 up and quickly caught up to the other pilots.
Soaring with Owen at 11,000 ft
Up ahead I could see Bruce heading out on course, but I wasn't sure where Tony and Jonathan were. I had my radio volume switch set too low and so I couldn't hear what was going on up ahead. Eventually I managed to get to the switch but I still didn't turn it up enough. Enough, though, to hear that there was a lot chatter going on so I decided to leave volume where it was. That decision probably cost me a lot of extra miles as I will explain in a bit.
Boomer Ridge
After first giving Black Mountain a go and not really finding anything worth stopping for I took my 11k altitude and angled over to Boomer Ridge and the Sierra Mountains. Once I crossed the 14 I could see Jonathan on the ridge flushing out from the back high points. It has been my experience that whenever I'm drilled off the mountain like that it's either because I got caught in a lee or that there was a large thermal forming out in front of the spine, drawing all of the surrounding air to it. Because of that, I stopped to work any up air I could find at that point hoping that it would eventually turn on and drift me right over the spine rather than copping a glide right to it. None of the light stuffed panned out but right before flying over the ridge I ran into a screamer. Coming into the area at about the same time was Chris Van Veldon; both of us climbed out quickly.
Inyokern
Jonathan was still struggling below on the ridge; I wanted to tell him that the thermal was out away from it to the south, but the lift was so strong I was afraid to let go of the base bar in order to key my radio mic. And speaking of radios, as I mention earlier having the volume turned down probably cost me a few extra miles. Had I had it turned up I would have heard Bruce say that the Sierra crest was working more than just fine. Whenever I fly down a mountain range I prefer flying over the front points and Sunday was no different. From Boomer Ridge I flew due north directly over the front points instead of using the altitude I had at the time to glide over the crest. Both Owen and Bruce reported later that once over the crest their flights were relatively easy and that they were able to take fairly long glides between thermals. I on the other hand, found strong sink over the canyons and choppy lift over the spines; a perfect combination for my motion sickness problem.
Still, at 30 miles out and at 11,000 ft I was in a pretty good position if not feeling all that well. Although faint, I could hear Owen on the radio say that he was at the exact same distance out at the exact same height. Only, I couldn't see him anywhere. I continued on. Near little lake another contributing factor to my relatively short flight presented itself in the form of a huge golden eagle. As I started to work some weak lift I got a sense that something was following me. I turned around to see the majestic bird just 5 feet off my keel. Thinking that he'd get bored and fly away I continued to work the weak lift. Four or five 360s later the eagle hadn't gone anywhere. I decided that it was time to move on despite not having the altitude I wanted to do so. A short time later I found myself unzipping my harness getting ready to land. However as I picked out the dirt road to land on I found something off the deck that would eventually get me back to 9k, eventually being the operative word.
Haiwee Reservoir
The climb seemed to take forever, which didn't do anything to help my mental state at the time. One more climb down the road a bit and I had had enough. I hadn't actually thrown up at that point, but I got on the radio to say that I was calling it a day and that I would be landing in Olancha. Only, half way through my glide it became painfully apparent that I needed one more small climb to make it. I write painfully, because feeling the way I did I wanted desperately to land on cool green grass and breakdown under a shade tree rather than out on the desert floor. About a mile out and unzipped again, I found some lift directly over 395. Circling just a couple of hundred feet off of the deck I gave the cars going by a show. I just hope that no one was outside looking up if you know what I mean.
Getting off the deck to get to the cool green grass
So now that's two flights from Garlock with both ending prematurely because of airsickness. I think a lot of it has do with the fact that because the site is new to me I don't have a sense of how long it takes to get from one point to another. Everything seems a bit far and out of reach so when I'm struggling a bit it's easy to give into my problem. Anyway, I'm not ready to give up on the site quite yet until I have tried flying down the crest from Boomer Ridge.
As far as they other guys: Bruce would win the day flying 135 miles; Owen and Jonathan would have personal bests going 126 and 83 miles respectively; Tony ended up landing on the south side of Owens Lake after experimenting with a line that didn't pan out; and Chris and Marcus ended up on the ground near Little Lake.
Distance: 61.17 Miles Duration: 2:53 Hours Max Altitude: 11,796 ft
I'm running out of personal hang gliding goals; I'm down to wanting to land on the beach in Fenwick Island, Delaware.
Because of my motion sickness problem I'm never going to fly great distances so my goals haven't been about site records or clicks on an odometer - well, except for breaking 100 miles (3 times to date) - they've been bit more modest: enter a major contest (Dinosaur Nats 1996); do the milk-run from Walt's to Janie's (finally in 2007); reach 17,999 ft (a number of times); fly certain routes; etc. One flight that I've always wanted to do starts at Pine Mountain, uses Frazier Mountain or Interstate 5 as a turnpoint and ends up on the beach in Santa Barbara. The flight isn't all that long but what makes it so neat and challenging is the terrain that needs to be traversed in order to make it happen. On Sunday the forecast looked like there might be a chance of achieving said goal. I've come close once, having had to settle with landing in Ojai instead.
With predicted SE winds over the weekend the best call for a long distance flight was Blackhawk on either of the two days. And, indeed, that ended up being the case for a few of the pilots that opted to go out there on Saturday. Tony flew to Quayle Lake for 115 miles; Bob Anderson landed in Neenach for 108; and Jeff Chipman and Chris Smith flew back to Sylmar for 91 miles, getting there above 10,000 ft. I could have joined them, but I opted to fly Pine Mountain on Sunday instead, mostly for the reason stated above. But also because I had just done that Blackhawk to the west flight the last time out. Not to mention that at the end of the day there would be a chance of landing on the beach and breaking down on nice green grass with a cool seabreeze in my face vs landing in the 106 degree heat in the desert. And finally, the flight would, coincidentally, complete my own little Race and Rally around the Southern California mountains that started back on Valentine's day.
I met Chris Van Veldon and Jonathan Dietch at the Kagel LZ at 8:30 after picking up driver Dana. Some of the Kagel pilots were looking to get away from the inversion layer so we had another truck load of pilots joining us, including Ron Weiner and Rob Burgis. Since I wanted to point out some of the LZs and retrieval roads to the pilots who had never flown Pine before we opted to take the back way through Frazier Park and Lockwood Valley. The forecast called for higher tops and more cloud development than Saturday; the first whispies started forming over Mt Pinos by the time that we reached the west end of Lockwood Valley at around 10:30. The upper winds were supposed to be out of the SE, but it was blowing light NW on the deck on the backside of Pine, which pretty much ended any thoughts of attempting a flight toward Salinas. Something that was considered after looking at the forecast.
Although it was blowing light north at Pine's old north launch it was blowing light south when we arrived at take-off. Tony already had his Atos, with its brand spanking new Mylar sail, set up when we pulled up. By the time we got the gliders off the truck the clouds had begun to fill in on the backside of the mountain. From our vantage point they seemed to have a bit more drift than the 5-8 kt SE winds indicated in the forecast.
Looking out toward Lake Casitas from above Pine.
Tony launched first and got up right away if not terribly high over the normal go to spine just west of launch. But once over the back I watched him climb out toward cloud base before turning my attention to getting ready myself. Jonathan was airborne not long after Tony and was already on the backside of the mountain by the time I launched 20 minutes later, followed by Chris soon after that. However, Chris and I struggled to get up high enough to go OTB. After an initial climb to 8k I found myself back down even with launch for another relight. On the second climb I didn't get much higher, but when I heard Jonathan on the radio say that he was climbing through 11k I left with what I had. Unfortunately, Chris didn't connect and ended up landing on the south side of launch.
Looking south from the backside of Pine. Below looking north from the same spot
Once over the back it took awhile to connect with something. The air was very buoyant, but I couldn't find anything organized. That is until I flew just south of Dry Canyon, about half-way to the Chute where I had a nice climb to the mid 13s. From there I just followed the clouds eastward against, just like what was predicted, a 5-8 kt headwind. Once over the "Badlands" things really turned on and found myself racing from cloud suck at just over 16k. At the same time the Kagel crew were on the radio still on the south side wondering whether or not to go over the back. Me reporting 16,000 ft made the decision a bit easier.
Getting ready to head east over the Badlands. Notice the smoke from a fire on the Grapevine just on the other side of Frazier. At one point the smoke formed in a column that went straight to cloudbase. (Photo by Jonathan Dietch)
During our pilot briefing earlier I let it be known that I thought that it would be a day to follow the clouds rather than the normal go to spots on the ground. Unfortunately, I didn't heed my own advice east of the Badlands. There was a nice cloud street to the north over Mt Pinos heading east, and two or three small clouds lined up just south of Frazier, but that didn't stop me from B-lining it to Frazier itself. From a starting point of 16k just short of Lockwood Valley I found myself below 10,000 ft on the far east side of it. Eventually, I latched on to something to get me back to 13k, but by the time I reached the towers on the east side of Frazier I was back down to 10k. After turning circles in some ratty lift while not really gaining any height I had a decision to make: should I continue to work the ratty stuff hoping that it would eventually turn on; continue on east hoping that I might find something that would put me back in the ball game; or turn tail and use whatever altitude I had left to get back to Lockwood in the hope that my last thermal would still be there. It came down to what was more important, tagging Interstate 5, which was just 2 or 3 miles away, or making it back to Santa Barbara. The distance doesn't seem like much, but the longer the delay for the return trip the greater the chance of getting shut down by the seabreeze. Also the lower you are in the Tejon Pass the more susceptable you are of getting knock down by the prevailing north wind seeping in from the Central Valley. I decided that getting back to Santa Barbara was more important than a few extra miles so I opted to turn tail at the towers. You can see me doing just that in Jonathan's video below.
By the time that I made it back to Lookwood I was down to 7k. That seemed awfully low after being so high earlier, but I still had about 2,000 ft to work with once I hit the valley. Fortuntately I found something almost right away which took me back to the mid 13s. While this was all going on Rob and Ron had decided not to try the out and return and instead opted to take their then 16k altitude over the Badlands and glide straight to Santa Barbara. Listening to their progress it became apparent that I just needed one more decent climb on my route and I would be able achieve my goal.
From just south of Mt Pinos I followed the cloud street as it arched around the north side of Lockwood to the middle of the Badlands. And just like during the leg heading east, at almost the same exact spot, I was forced to race away from cloudsuck at 16,000 ft. Once clear of the clouds I went on my 30 mile glide to Santa Barbara. The decision to go was made easy by the fact that the Kagel boys had arrived at the beach with 8,000 ft.
Getting ready to cross over the San Rafael Wilderness Area on my way to Santa Barbara from Pine. Below a closer look at the terrain
A portion of the long glide to Santa Barbara
Crossing the front range (first three photos by Jonathan Dietch).
I arrived just under 6k so I decided to take a bit of a detour to the west side of town before turning around to land at the beach. Jonathan came in just a few minutes behind. Tony would end up flying out to Jawbone Canyon before turning around to land in Tehachapi (126 miles)
My flight was a bit of a disappointment as I didn't go out as far east as I had hoped, but it was a great day none the less. What was more of a disappointment, however, was the fact that on such a beautiful day all of my pictures came out lousy.
Distance: 71.77 Miles (measured from the farthest points) Duration: 3:23 Hours Max Altitude: 16,151 ft.
Completing the circuit around the Southern California mountains (about 310 miles)
Cate School. The tracklog is cut off a bit. I landed in right center field, only this isn't an updated image. The school has added new landscaping. See Below for my crude rendering:
