Sunday, July 29, 2007

...When Puppies Fly!

Here is a recent picture of our family dog. "Clover" is a 7 and a half month old Rat Terrier which we have had since she was 6 weeks old. She currently weighs about 15 lbs, is about 11 inches tall, and may grow a bit more. She is an excellent mouser and is just beginning to learn the art of stalking the occasional bird which lands in her territory (the yard).


She loves her stuffed animal toys - in fact she "loves" them until she can pull all of the stuffing out! She goes through an average of one every week or two - depending on how tough it is. We went to the DI and stocked up on replacements to have on hand.


Clover enjoys going along on many of our family trips or adventures - including being my co-pilot for a St. Patrick's Day ('07) flight when she was about 3 months old and half the size she is now!


She was a bit nervous hanging beside me, so I tucked her inside of my harness lines so she could rest on my back. I designed the harness with leg straps for all 4 legs - so there was no way she could fall out. (She has since outgrown this harness, but I am waiting for her to stop growing before I enlarge it.)


Cody & I had a great 2 hour flight at Short Divide, and managed to climb up over Gunsight Peak and just enjoyed exploring the various peaks, boating around in the smooth air - mostly over 9,000'.


After landing Clover was ready for a nap! When it was time to load up, she didn't want to get out of my harness! Hopefully that was a good sign.

Air Time: 2 hrs.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Snake Eyes

My brother sent me this picture of a friend of his with a huge rattlesnake that was found not too far from their neighborhood. They live in the arid desert region of central Washington, not far from a nuclear plant. I think this must be an oversized "atomic rattlesnake"! That thing could swallow a dog or a cat - not to mention a small kid!!

Chunky Air Time

What's worse than a sea-sick fishing boat captain? How about an air-sick hang glider pilot.
I think I may have to give up water skiing and wake boarding - unless I am wearing earplugs in both ears! It's too risky with just one "good" ear. There are a lot of water sports I would love to do more, but I may have to be satisfied with "just" air time while hang gliding!
My hearing has partially/mostly returned, but not yet completely. I can tell there is still "stuff" healing in my middle ear. I get a bit nauseated as each day wears on due to some minor vertigo. Each day it has been less noticeable but I'll be glad when that completely goes away!

I did get to fly Saturday! I met the other usual suspects (Cody, Bruce, & Greg) at launch on Short Divide (5,950'). The day was heating up quickly heading for the upper 90's, and the wind was coming straight in at 16-18 mph. The "valley corner" launch seems to "collect" the thermals and funnel them right up the slope. It was a mostly clear sky, with a lot of smoke and haze from various range wildfires.
I launched first and found moderate lift everywhere, allowing me to quickly bench up and climb to 9,000' where the air was pleasantly cooler. I boated around over Gunsight Peak, watching as Greg and Bruce soon launched and climbed up to join me. Before I knew it I was studying the undersurface of their sails! Cody had tweaked his back the prior week and was still on the mend, so he graciously volunteered to hang-drive (thanks Cody!)


We took turns marking the top of various thermals, but were unable to get much above 9,300'. I finally decided to head north toward Malad, and proceeded to get thrashed around a bit as I caught some moderate rotor from Gunsight.
It smoothed out as I continued north, but I was gradually losing altitude as I continued up the range. I was well below the ridge line, starting to look at potential LZ's when I hooked an 800 fpm thermal which soon turned into a smooth 1,500 fpm.
The earlier ceiling seemed to open up as I cored the lift, climbing quickly as I topped the ridge line and began drifting northeast over some inhospitable scrub oak covered mountains. The strong, steady lift gave me the confidence to stay with it and soon I was well within glide of the next valley over. The day was setting up very nicely as I was about 12 miles out, with Bruce and Greg to mark the thermals and "show me how it's done", a chase truck below me with a highly skilled driver (Cody), and climbing through 11,000' MSL with a nice tailwind!
Then my inner/middle ear decided that it had enough. I started to experience some mild vertigo, fever, chills, sweats, dizziness, and then the nausea. I know it was because my ear is still healing with stuff rattling around inside. I tried to wish it away, but there was nothing I could do other than raise my full-face helmet and aim below my control bar as I lost my breakfast and lunch into the wide open space!
Thankfully I was climbing fast enough that the steady stream of projectiles and liquid fell all 5,000 + feet AGL to the juniper covered mountains below, and didn't get on my harness at all. I didn't notice (or care) if there were any animals (wild or domesticated) below. After clearing my mouth (and nose) I just rested my forehead on the control bar with my eyes closed, trying to regain my composure. It is a terrible feeling to be in the air wishing you were on the ground!
Fortunately my glider is trimmed very nicely so that it "flew" itself without my input, and it really didn't matter in what direction, as I had plenty of altitude and was still climbing without even trying! After losing my cookies I felt much better, but a bit weak. I knew that although my glider can "fly itself", I still had to land it safely. I decided to get back on course and make the best of the day, and not hold the other two pilots back with a shortened retrieval.
About 4 miles later "that feeling" returned, although this time I had "nothing left to lose" - so it was the dry heaves. Now I felt even worse than before, so I just headed for the nearest valley

- while I was still able - and worked my way down through the lift to a safe landing right next to Hwy 36, MP 116. After landing I just closed my eyes and laid on the ground for a couple of minutes to allow my head to adjust to being stationary again.
Before landing I had radioed to Bruce who relayed to Greg and Cody where I was landing, but I didn't tell them exactly why until after we were reunited back on terra-firma. Cody was there within 10 minutes and thankfully helped me break down and load up my glider.
Bruce radioed that he had just landed about 10 or 15 miles further up the valley, so we went and picked him up next. Greg was last to leave the "home" mountain to go XC, so when he heard that we had both landed he turned back and just landed back at his truck. By now my head had stopped spinning, but it was still pounding.
We stopped for a diet Coke which sort of settled my stomach. It will, however, be a long time before I ever have a diet berries & cream Dr. Pepper again!
I have experienced a slightly upset stomach while flying in too rowdy rodeo-air - but never to this extent! It is a bit embarrassing (as a hang gliding pilot) to relate this account, But I'm not too proud, and I might as well tell the tale myself to insure complete accuracy!!
I uploaded my flight track to Google Earth and it also tells the story. The last 45 minutes of my flight path does not make sense - unless you understand my state of mind!
Air Time: 2 hrs. 24 min.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Dodging Bullets


I should have known better than to go wakeboarding on Friday the 13th!
It was about 8 pm and I had just figured out how to catch air off the wake while carving on my heel side. After landing a couple I went for bigger air, just barely clearing the opposite side wake, but landing too far forward on the board. My front end caught, transferring all the momentum to my upper body, which then slammed the left side of my head flush onto the water surface.
Everything went dark and quiet and then my head was spinning from the cold water rushing into my middle ear and my entire sinus cavity ached. I knew I had done something bad to my only good ear!
I was up most of the night in camp with a head-splitting ear ache and blood draining out of my ear! The scary part was that everything was so quiet.
What if I blew my whole eardrum out? What if I had to have surgery again? What if my hearing never returned? I would have to be out of work for at least a month...etc. I accepted the possibility that I may lose hearing in both ears. The moment I accepted that, I realized that things were not that bad, and that life would go on.
Monday I got in to see my ENT Dr. He said that he has seen a lot of ear injuries from wakeboard wipeouts lately. When he saw it was my "good" ear he grimaced. When he looked inside he first said, "Ahaah...Mmmmmm...then he chuckled a little and said smiling, "Well, you dodged a bullet!" I said what do you mean? He said that the eardrum was severely bruised, but not compromised. He said there was a tiny perforation where the blood had been draining out, which was already pretty much healed. He said it would take "a while" for the swelling to go down and the blood and fluid behind the eardrum to be reabsorbed, and my hearing would then gradually return. He said no heavy lifting for a couple of days and then back to work Wednesday.
By Wednesday I was doing a bit better and back to work. There was a slight improvement in my hearing, but I could tell that it would take time for my eardrum and middle ear to fully heal and hopefully completely regain my hearing. By mid-day I was a bit nauseated, light-headed, and had a dull headache - but it gradually improved each day.
I did notice that everyone I regularly listen to on the radio or TV sounded higher-pitched, like they were sucking helium! After experiencing this for multiple media personalities, I realized It was probably due to my ear drum healing - not everyone's voice changing.
I realized that I was probably also experiencing a serious case of airtime deficiency syndrome...

Airtime: about 10 cumulative seconds...