The word is out, many ask why wouldn't i post it?
So i tumbled. Didn't like it...
There you have it.
My First Tumble In The Owens; Have You Had Yours (Yet)?
Cmon, Vrezh, this mini-version doesnt fly. I can live without seeing "Snakes on a Plane," but you are not gonna get away with cheating us out of the true story of your complete somersault!
Last edited by Christian on Thu Sep 14, 2006 3:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Don't short-change your friends, Vrezh. Never mind their morbid curiosity. Never mind the ribbing. Think about their safety. Any information can help others avoid similar problems, or survive them if it happens to them. I wrote up my harness failure, surely you can write up your tumble, eh?
Fly High; Fly Far; Fly Safe -- George
Vrezh,
I agree with you! Hey, why the hell does everyone want to try and pry out a scary scenario like that anyway, other than for the curiousities George mentioned. By the way, next time we fly together I'll have some top notch brew waiting for us in the LZ. We can cool off, drink some brew, shoot the shit and, after we have hammered a few down, maybe you tell me of the time that...
Jim
I agree with you! Hey, why the hell does everyone want to try and pry out a scary scenario like that anyway, other than for the curiousities George mentioned. By the way, next time we fly together I'll have some top notch brew waiting for us in the LZ. We can cool off, drink some brew, shoot the shit and, after we have hammered a few down, maybe you tell me of the time that...
Jim
Upon landing at Janies, the normaly stoic Vrezh told me that north of Onion Valley, before crossing over to the east side towards Black Mountain, a gust seized his glider and he completed a forward summersault without letting go.
Vrezh, demonstrating that strength, stubbornness and bravery are no match for stupidity, then continued flying another 50 miles for his personal best XC distance.
I wonder if sprogs had something to do with it?
--Groundhog
Vrezh, demonstrating that strength, stubbornness and bravery are no match for stupidity, then continued flying another 50 miles for his personal best XC distance.
I wonder if sprogs had something to do with it?
--Groundhog
I already told the story ONE BRRRAZZZILLLIAN times, think, everybody knows, and now I am being accused of trying to keep it silent, shish?
…On Saturday, September 2nd, Jim Delear, Grant, Powerline Mike and I launched from Walt’s Point. Soon I flew into a strong lift band @ 11-13K which let me to glide fast over Sierras almost to the crossing point near Mount Tinemaha and Mount Birch. This is where the Sierras bend westwards. Jim was already staging and getting ready to cross, and I was approaching Mount Goodale and Mount Cardinal @ 13K.
With full VG, @ cruising speed I flew into a strong, tight core. In a split second the glider pitched up 90 degrees and somewhat spun around its nose almost 180 degrees to the South, like if a missile hit the nose but a little off center. Since my wings were “facing� south with all 142 sq. ft of their surface, I could fill it was getting pushed back into a loop. All I could do was just hang on to the base tube and don’t let it go. My harness was probably about 15- 20 lbs heavier than usual, because there was so much extra crap in it (oxygen, extra water, first aid kit, survival kit and so on). So I could see my fingers slipping away slowly, no matter how hard I try. The rocket ride lasted a few seconds, then apparently the glider flew closer to the edge of the core and the nose flew out of it before I went negative. Now it felt like if the nose was sticking out of the elevator and it hit the next floors bottom (ceiling?). The glider pitched down quickly and went for a complete summersault. My main hang strap did not even go slack. Then there was this weird silence. The glider was pointing straight down and picking up speed fast. I pulled myself closer to the base tube and waited for the Joey Fresques miracle to happen. And it did! The safety kicked in, the dive sticks did the trick and the glider returned to level flight.
My vario made couple of innocent beeps that woke me up from a shock. Checked the wing, the harness, no strange bar pressure, no pulling to one side. Everything seemed to be in order. Talked to Jim and Grant and the chase crew. They did not get it. Oh, well, I’ll explain it later.
From that point everything switched to Slow-Mo. Grant was going for Klondike Lake LZ, Jim was already flying the Whites. Powerline Mike was on his privet frequency the whole time, Illona (his wife and trusty chase) would switch back and fort between channels time after time and give us updates about his progress.
I decided to land @ Lake Klondike, so I was slowly drifting towards Big Pine and climbing, to my amusement. Every time the glider would fly trough some turbulence, I would freak out in horror…It was going to be a Chinese Torture before I could get down from near 13K… So I went across the valley anyway, towards White Mountains, to burn altitude, to explore new grounds and hopefully to calm myself down. Arrived @ Black Mountain of White Mountains (Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of Los Angeles!)
Hit strong sink, got lower. Little by little I was getting back in my game. Closer terrain, light stuff, warmer temps. Almost like Kagel in a lite day. I could do that with my eyes closed. Hey, it ain’t that bad, anyway.
Grant was breaking down and I decided to go further and land somewhere near Bishop. Jim kept inviting me to this wide, soft, gentle thermal parade, lined up way upfront Whites. The cloud street looked just perfect. Illona spotted me north of Gunter, Mike was directly above me @16K while I was fooling around @6K… So I called up Huston, grabbed the next one and rode it all the way to 13K and went for it… Grant had joined the chase crew, and they arrived @ Janie’s with me. Except I was @ 12K. There were 2 gliders parked @ Janie’s (Jim and Mike), and there was a nice cloud street lined up along the Highway 6. It was stretching down as far as my eyes could see, way behind Montgomery Pass, and it was working too... (continues below)...
…On Saturday, September 2nd, Jim Delear, Grant, Powerline Mike and I launched from Walt’s Point. Soon I flew into a strong lift band @ 11-13K which let me to glide fast over Sierras almost to the crossing point near Mount Tinemaha and Mount Birch. This is where the Sierras bend westwards. Jim was already staging and getting ready to cross, and I was approaching Mount Goodale and Mount Cardinal @ 13K.
With full VG, @ cruising speed I flew into a strong, tight core. In a split second the glider pitched up 90 degrees and somewhat spun around its nose almost 180 degrees to the South, like if a missile hit the nose but a little off center. Since my wings were “facing� south with all 142 sq. ft of their surface, I could fill it was getting pushed back into a loop. All I could do was just hang on to the base tube and don’t let it go. My harness was probably about 15- 20 lbs heavier than usual, because there was so much extra crap in it (oxygen, extra water, first aid kit, survival kit and so on). So I could see my fingers slipping away slowly, no matter how hard I try. The rocket ride lasted a few seconds, then apparently the glider flew closer to the edge of the core and the nose flew out of it before I went negative. Now it felt like if the nose was sticking out of the elevator and it hit the next floors bottom (ceiling?). The glider pitched down quickly and went for a complete summersault. My main hang strap did not even go slack. Then there was this weird silence. The glider was pointing straight down and picking up speed fast. I pulled myself closer to the base tube and waited for the Joey Fresques miracle to happen. And it did! The safety kicked in, the dive sticks did the trick and the glider returned to level flight.
My vario made couple of innocent beeps that woke me up from a shock. Checked the wing, the harness, no strange bar pressure, no pulling to one side. Everything seemed to be in order. Talked to Jim and Grant and the chase crew. They did not get it. Oh, well, I’ll explain it later.
From that point everything switched to Slow-Mo. Grant was going for Klondike Lake LZ, Jim was already flying the Whites. Powerline Mike was on his privet frequency the whole time, Illona (his wife and trusty chase) would switch back and fort between channels time after time and give us updates about his progress.
I decided to land @ Lake Klondike, so I was slowly drifting towards Big Pine and climbing, to my amusement. Every time the glider would fly trough some turbulence, I would freak out in horror…It was going to be a Chinese Torture before I could get down from near 13K… So I went across the valley anyway, towards White Mountains, to burn altitude, to explore new grounds and hopefully to calm myself down. Arrived @ Black Mountain of White Mountains (Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of Los Angeles!)
Hit strong sink, got lower. Little by little I was getting back in my game. Closer terrain, light stuff, warmer temps. Almost like Kagel in a lite day. I could do that with my eyes closed. Hey, it ain’t that bad, anyway.
Grant was breaking down and I decided to go further and land somewhere near Bishop. Jim kept inviting me to this wide, soft, gentle thermal parade, lined up way upfront Whites. The cloud street looked just perfect. Illona spotted me north of Gunter, Mike was directly above me @16K while I was fooling around @6K… So I called up Huston, grabbed the next one and rode it all the way to 13K and went for it… Grant had joined the chase crew, and they arrived @ Janie’s with me. Except I was @ 12K. There were 2 gliders parked @ Janie’s (Jim and Mike), and there was a nice cloud street lined up along the Highway 6. It was stretching down as far as my eyes could see, way behind Montgomery Pass, and it was working too... (continues below)...
Last edited by Vrezh on Wed Sep 20, 2006 9:42 am, edited 3 times in total.
I must be really shaken and worn out of stress, for I mumbled something about going further but quickly gave up to the demands of fellas on the ground to land for Christ’s Sake.
Inspected my trusty Aeros Stealth closely. Battens #2 and 3 were bent upwards. Outboard dive sticks/sprogs were bent downwards. One undersurface batten on each side had pocked the batten pocket @ the end and the tips of the battens were resting against the bottom of the leading edge.
My Woody Valley Tenax harness is just fine.
Remember that line from every textbook and every other writ up on Owens, where it says “…conditions in the Owens can get so strong that they can overpower any pilot…�?
Well, I am lucky to survive it and tell you it’s true.
Inspected my trusty Aeros Stealth closely. Battens #2 and 3 were bent upwards. Outboard dive sticks/sprogs were bent downwards. One undersurface batten on each side had pocked the batten pocket @ the end and the tips of the battens were resting against the bottom of the leading edge.
My Woody Valley Tenax harness is just fine.
Remember that line from every textbook and every other writ up on Owens, where it says “…conditions in the Owens can get so strong that they can overpower any pilot…�?
Well, I am lucky to survive it and tell you it’s true.
Last edited by Vrezh on Sun Sep 17, 2006 9:21 am, edited 1 time in total.
Thanks, not only a good read but you have added to my expectations for the Owens and for the possibility of holding on all through a tuck.
Your debriefing for the benefit of the rest of us is in a long line of heroic aviation tradition.
"Three FW 190s came in from the rear and cut my elevator cables. I snap-rolled with the rudder and jumped at 18,000 feet. I took off my dinghy-pack, oxygen mask and helmet in the air, and then, as I was whirling on my back and began to feel dizzy, I pulled the rip cord at 8,000 feet. A FW 190 dove at me, but when he was about 2,000 yards from me a P51 came in on his tail and blew him to pieces."
See here for more of Chuck Yaeger's handwritten reports:
http://narademo.umiacs.umd.edu/cgi-bin/ ... tem=105467
Your debriefing for the benefit of the rest of us is in a long line of heroic aviation tradition.
"Three FW 190s came in from the rear and cut my elevator cables. I snap-rolled with the rudder and jumped at 18,000 feet. I took off my dinghy-pack, oxygen mask and helmet in the air, and then, as I was whirling on my back and began to feel dizzy, I pulled the rip cord at 8,000 feet. A FW 190 dove at me, but when he was about 2,000 yards from me a P51 came in on his tail and blew him to pieces."
See here for more of Chuck Yaeger's handwritten reports:
http://narademo.umiacs.umd.edu/cgi-bin/ ... tem=105467
-
JT
Membership recinded
Sorry Vrezh,
Members of the "men who fell to Earth" club, by definition, must hit the ground. Your membership is hereby null and void. Still glad you're OK.
The rest of you... stop asking me why I don't want to fly the "Big O."
Joe Greblo telling me that gliders will predictably tumble in that big air was enough to convince me.
Members of the "men who fell to Earth" club, by definition, must hit the ground. Your membership is hereby null and void. Still glad you're OK.
The rest of you... stop asking me why I don't want to fly the "Big O."
Joe Greblo telling me that gliders will predictably tumble in that big air was enough to convince me.
Thank you Vrezh! All information about these things is helpful, and appreciated.
I once had my luff lines broken in the Owens, due to a sudden large ROLL (not pitch). It happened twice in 10 minutes, then everything was fine. The only warning was a bit of extra turbulence. The roll didn't feel sharp, but it was irresistable, like the swell of a large wave in the ocean.
I flew on, but landed at Chalfant. There was a T-storm at the North end of the valley with a dust-devil from the ground to cloud base. The dusty was black, and topped out at over 15,000 feet. Was it a dust devil? A tornado? I don't know and didn't care. I landed immediately. That is when I discovered the broken luff lines. After breaking down, I put my glider on the fence and started to climb over it. As I stepped onto the fence, the wind was 2mph from the South. As I stepped down from the fence on the other side, the wind was 30 mph from the North. Within another minute, it topped out over 45mph. It felt good to be on the ground, despite passing up my first hundred-miler on purpose.
I fly the Owens, but I'm extra careful, land if anything seems "wrong" or out of the ordinary, and expect that the risk is higher.
By the way, my excitement also happened near Onion Valley. My experience is that the bumpiest parts of that 100 mile trek are usually near Onion Valley and near or just North of Black Mountain. Onion Valley is the first area to blow down in the Westerlies, and Black is just nasty sometimes, especially if the wind is more Southerly or Easterly. Ask Grant about flying North of Black in a SE wind... I no longer cross the valley if the wind is SE. Just as I no longer stay on the Sierras if the wind is anything West of South, or even just South if it is strong.
I once had my luff lines broken in the Owens, due to a sudden large ROLL (not pitch). It happened twice in 10 minutes, then everything was fine. The only warning was a bit of extra turbulence. The roll didn't feel sharp, but it was irresistable, like the swell of a large wave in the ocean.
I flew on, but landed at Chalfant. There was a T-storm at the North end of the valley with a dust-devil from the ground to cloud base. The dusty was black, and topped out at over 15,000 feet. Was it a dust devil? A tornado? I don't know and didn't care. I landed immediately. That is when I discovered the broken luff lines. After breaking down, I put my glider on the fence and started to climb over it. As I stepped onto the fence, the wind was 2mph from the South. As I stepped down from the fence on the other side, the wind was 30 mph from the North. Within another minute, it topped out over 45mph. It felt good to be on the ground, despite passing up my first hundred-miler on purpose.
I fly the Owens, but I'm extra careful, land if anything seems "wrong" or out of the ordinary, and expect that the risk is higher.
By the way, my excitement also happened near Onion Valley. My experience is that the bumpiest parts of that 100 mile trek are usually near Onion Valley and near or just North of Black Mountain. Onion Valley is the first area to blow down in the Westerlies, and Black is just nasty sometimes, especially if the wind is more Southerly or Easterly. Ask Grant about flying North of Black in a SE wind... I no longer cross the valley if the wind is SE. Just as I no longer stay on the Sierras if the wind is anything West of South, or even just South if it is strong.
Fly High; Fly Far; Fly Safe -- George
I won't fly a 180 hp Piper Archer in the Owens Valley if the wind over the Sierras is over 20 mph (that is the stndard recommendation for small planes). Even with that proviso, in the Owens you tighten your seatbelt to the point of discomfort. Otherwise your head hits the cabin ceiling in the turb. Hang glider pilots have bigger cojones.