Fall Flying at Wolcott

As human beings we weave a web of expectations of what today, tomorrow, and the next day will be like. It's a trait that allows us to get through the mundane happenstance of our lives without much thought to the rare occurance of the unexpected. Then once in a blue moon life reminds us that our web of expectations is just that, a fragile web shattered by some surprise we had no clue was coming. It reminds us that we are at the mercy of fate or coincidence. That we are just along for the ride on this rock hurling through space and time.

I had a day like this last September. I woke up to our dog Diogee coughing. It was abnormal enough for us to take him to the vet. They said it could be something bad, but he was probably okay. I needed to pick up my glider in Vail and had plans to fly Wolcott. The vet told Jo that Diogee would be okay. She was going to be home most of the day so I headed up the hill.

Beautiful Sky and Aspens

On launch the thermal cycles were light and inconsistent. I picked a bad cycle and had to scratch for a few tenuous moments before I got up. Within the first five minutes I was so low that I though I was going to be landing or sure. Over a rocky fin south of launch I clung to 50fpm lift and clawed my way back into the sky.

Surfing the Ridge to the North

From there I surfed light ridge lift north up the ridge so low that it felt like my feet were dragging in the trees, which were ablaze in the brilliant colors of fall. The aspens were awash in rich yellows and greens, just premature of peak. After making a few laps in ridge lift I caught a climb to 16,000 feet. On the way up I saw a SkyWest RJ go under me. It was well below on base to Eagle Airport.

Dragging my Feet in the Aspens

Turning in 800FPM Lift

The Upper Ridge

Taking in the View

Looking Down on an RJ Going into Eagle

At 16,000 feet I committed to going XC and heading down wind into the mountains north of Vail. I had no expectation of going XC that day, but life had handed me an opportunity so choose to take advantage of it. So much of hang gliding is like that. The deeper into the mountains to the east that I got, the less landing options there were.

Passing North of Vail

By the time I reached the Gore Range the only LZ I had was the soccer field at the bottom of Vail Pass. Physically was a great LZ, but I knew it would be unfriendly territory. I was in broken lift and being blown deeper into the rocky peaks unable to put together an organized climb. As I did climb bit by bit my glide to the soccer field stayed the same because as I gained altitude I drifted farther downwind. Finally I had to make a decision. I was in a no mans land of rugged terrain and low, like 2000 feet below the peaks. The choices were to turn around and fly down a side canyon to I-70 then follow the highway to the soccer field or head for the lowest saddle in the Gore Range and use my tailwind to for the extra glide needed to clear it. The latter option opened up LZ's in the valley east of the Gore Range. I went for it. On the way I found 1500fpm lift and got up to 15000 feet.

Soccer Field LZ at the Bottom of the Vail Pass

(it's the tiny green patch where the highway turns into the vail valley)

Into the Gore Range

Looking Back at the Vail Valley

Over Red Peak I spotted two bald eagles circling and hooked up with them. That climb took me to 17,500 feet. The world was at my finger tips. The tailwind had increased significantly which gave me the glide to cross the valley north of Silverthorne and get up on the Continental Divde. If I could do that landing in Golden might be possible. It would be the stuff of legend, at least in my mind.

Topping Out Over 17,000 Feet

Lake Dillon, Silverthorne, Frisco, and Keystone

Looking East at the Continental Divide, Winter Park, and The Front Range

I was also super cold and could feel a hint of hxpoia setting in. And I had a potentially sick dog at home that Jo needed help with. It was agonizing, but I decided not to be greedy and do the right thing. I broke hard right and headed for Copper Mountain where I could land on the golf course and walk to I-70 for an easy retrieve.

Headed to Copper Mountain

(Frisco below)

On the way I dragged my feet on the peaks of Breckenridge and made a pass over the top of the J Bar lift at Copper. That set me up for a perfect speed glide down the big blue runs below the Super Bee lift. The lift coming up face was surprisingly strong and made getting down below the treetops for a proper speed glide hard.

Peak 4 at Breckenridge

The Town of Breckenridge

Headed to Copper Mountain

Looking Back at Lake Dillon

Over the "SKY" Avalanche Chutes

Upper Copper Mountain

After a few wing overs I landed on the golf course. I was nervous about the surface winds in the confluence of the three valleys that drain into Copper. I decided to throw my drogue and make a conservative landing. A long ground swoop would have made for great footage, but I think it was the right call. OB came to the rescue when I discovered my truck keys in my pocket.

Golf Course LZ

Wing Over's Above the LZ

Landed

I made it home just in time for both Jo and I to discover Diogee's condition was more dire than a cough. We spent all night in the hospital and he left this world in our arms the next day. My comfortable web of expectations was shattered. I never would have met Jo if it wasn't for him, and now he was gone. Jo took it even harder. I decided the best way to honor him was continuing to live my life by pursuing an enlightened existence. By seeking experiences like the flight I had the day before. By not taking the gifts and moments I am offered in this world for granted. Diogee was just such a gift, mischievous one at times, but that was all part of it. I'm glad we gave him a good life and didn't take him for granted.

This One's for You Diogee