I have been trying to soar North Boulder since 2004 with nothing more than extended sled rides to show for it. Last week, I finally got up! The city of Boulder is not a hang glider friendly place. I won't go into details, but all the sites go shut down years ago after a local jackass got trigger happy with a chainsaw. As a result of that disaster North Boulder is the only site that remains open. It's a mission to fly with a hang glider, requiring a 1/4 mile carry from the back side of the ridge. The launch slopes from east to northeast at an altitude of 6000', about 600' above the valley. Lookout Mountain in Golden is higher and takes less time to get to launch so I don't make it up to North Boulder much. Last Thursday was a rare exception.
North Boulder
3D View
I actually had no plans of hang gliding until I glanced at the forecast at work. A system was moving through bringing a light to moderate upslope with easterly winds. The east winds usually start in the plains and move west towards the hills as the upslope progresses. Rocky Mountain Regional Airport was predicting northeast winds at 12kts starting at 4pm. It's the closest airport with a forecast. I had a doctor's appointment at 1pm in Boulder and wouldn't have time to make it to Lookout, Boulder would have to do. After my appointment I stopped by the Phoenix Multisport office to meet up with Jo. The North Boulder launch is in plain sight of the Phoenix office which faces west towards the ridge. Jo dropped me and my gear off on the back side of the ridge at 3:30pm.
In the past I've lugged my glider all the way up to launch only to find conditions that had switched or turned off. It's only a 1/4 mile hike, but it feels like 10. I took the battens out of the glider bag and hiked them and my harness up to launch. The entire way up the wind was light to calm out of the north. I suspected I was in the wind shadow of the lower ridgeline that terminated at the launch. When I arrived I was greeted with a 5-10mph north wind. Almost 90 degrees cross to the left, it wasn't launchable on the main launch. I could possibly get off on the north end of launch, but my left wing tip would be uncomfortably close to a rock wall. I had to make a decision. Should I gamble that the wind would shift out of the east as the upslope progressed and press on with the mission or should I bag it and salvage what was left with the day? I've gambled on conditions that never materialized before at North Boulder and can testify that it is a somber walk carrying the glider back down.
I decided to gamble on the upslope and turned back to get my glider. On the way back up, as I made the U-turn around the south end of the ridge it looked like a good decision. In just 20 minutes it had really turned on. 15-20mph winds were blowing straight in, directly out of the east. A pair of hawks playing in the ridge lift above me spurred my excitement so I upped my pace. I made it the entire way without stopping, but was on the verge of cracking. When I arrived at launch the conditions were the best I've ever seen them. Light thermals being pushed by easterly winds were rolling through regularly. I rushed to set up while keeping an keen eye on the wind direction. It was shifting in strength and direction from due east to northeast, but by the time I was hooked in it had shifted back to directly out of the north.
Argh, what a teaser! The perfect conditions had vanished as quickly as they came. The sun, thermals, and hawks were all gone. I was alone on the barren hill trying to decide if I could pull off a marginal launch to the north. I walked the glider over to the northern most edge of the launch. When my left wing was about 6 feet from the rock wall I stopped, it was as close as I could comfortably get. It wasn't close enough, I still had a 30 degree crosswind. The crosswind wasn't the only problem. If I didn't angle my body to keep the wing level to the horizon on the sloping hillside I would come off the ground in a turn. I hung out for an agonizing 30 minutes contemplating and hoping for the wind to turn, but it never did. Every time I lifted the glider to feel it in the wind I nearly lost control. I gave up hope of soaring and just wanted to get off the hill to avoid walking the glider down.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I was too emotionally involved in getting off the ground, my judgement was being affected. I unhooked, stepped away from the glider and looked at the situation objectively. Slightly down the hill, the slope better paralleled the horizon. I would be lower on the hill, but it favored the wind direction better. I put together a plan. I would hook back in, walk down the hill and wait for the wind to blow straight in. I would be facing mostly north, so it wouldn't take a huge direction shift to be lined up. If the wind never shifted, I'd walk back down the hill and enjoy the exercise. It worked, after about five minutes I found myself with a controllable wing that wanted to fly.
There wasn't another soul near me, but I yelled "Clear!" anyway and executed a perfect launch. There was lift right off launch and I climbed to about 75 feet over. From there I had enough altitude to head north before turning right to make the LZ. I pulled my VG full on and went for it. The wind was blowing at a 60 degree angle to the ridge, but there were enough northeast facing bumps on the hillside with ridgelift above them for me to work my way north. The ridge ended in steep rocky walls at Lee-Hill Canyon. If I could just make there, ridgelift would be plentiful. I skimmed the lower ridge, linking one small bump to another until I made it to the first rocky outcrops of Lee-Hill. At times I was low enough to kick the tree tops, I fully expected to have to break off to the right and land, but miraculously, never needed to.
At Lee-Hill I hit solid ridge lift. The lift band was narrow, but deep. I pushed out and gained 200' before I crossed through it. I turned back and worked a few more small lift bands to climb to 6800'. Now I had enough altitude to turn back down the ridge. As I did, the wind shifted east and lift became plentiful. I couldn't believe it! I was finally up!! I let out a few yells of joy and enjoyed the moment. Below me I could see into the empty hot tubs of wealthy houses straddling the ridge. Lower on the hill a herd of mule deer grazed in the grass, oblivious to my presence. To the west I was almost even with the snow line of the Front Range's towering peaks, to the east the high plains stretched out to the horizon. The upslope had arrived again and was bringing rain showers with it. I shifted back into super efficient mode and concentrated on getting as high as I could on the ridge.
North Boulder
3D View
I actually had no plans of hang gliding until I glanced at the forecast at work. A system was moving through bringing a light to moderate upslope with easterly winds. The east winds usually start in the plains and move west towards the hills as the upslope progresses. Rocky Mountain Regional Airport was predicting northeast winds at 12kts starting at 4pm. It's the closest airport with a forecast. I had a doctor's appointment at 1pm in Boulder and wouldn't have time to make it to Lookout, Boulder would have to do. After my appointment I stopped by the Phoenix Multisport office to meet up with Jo. The North Boulder launch is in plain sight of the Phoenix office which faces west towards the ridge. Jo dropped me and my gear off on the back side of the ridge at 3:30pm.
In the past I've lugged my glider all the way up to launch only to find conditions that had switched or turned off. It's only a 1/4 mile hike, but it feels like 10. I took the battens out of the glider bag and hiked them and my harness up to launch. The entire way up the wind was light to calm out of the north. I suspected I was in the wind shadow of the lower ridgeline that terminated at the launch. When I arrived I was greeted with a 5-10mph north wind. Almost 90 degrees cross to the left, it wasn't launchable on the main launch. I could possibly get off on the north end of launch, but my left wing tip would be uncomfortably close to a rock wall. I had to make a decision. Should I gamble that the wind would shift out of the east as the upslope progressed and press on with the mission or should I bag it and salvage what was left with the day? I've gambled on conditions that never materialized before at North Boulder and can testify that it is a somber walk carrying the glider back down.
I decided to gamble on the upslope and turned back to get my glider. On the way back up, as I made the U-turn around the south end of the ridge it looked like a good decision. In just 20 minutes it had really turned on. 15-20mph winds were blowing straight in, directly out of the east. A pair of hawks playing in the ridge lift above me spurred my excitement so I upped my pace. I made it the entire way without stopping, but was on the verge of cracking. When I arrived at launch the conditions were the best I've ever seen them. Light thermals being pushed by easterly winds were rolling through regularly. I rushed to set up while keeping an keen eye on the wind direction. It was shifting in strength and direction from due east to northeast, but by the time I was hooked in it had shifted back to directly out of the north.
Argh, what a teaser! The perfect conditions had vanished as quickly as they came. The sun, thermals, and hawks were all gone. I was alone on the barren hill trying to decide if I could pull off a marginal launch to the north. I walked the glider over to the northern most edge of the launch. When my left wing was about 6 feet from the rock wall I stopped, it was as close as I could comfortably get. It wasn't close enough, I still had a 30 degree crosswind. The crosswind wasn't the only problem. If I didn't angle my body to keep the wing level to the horizon on the sloping hillside I would come off the ground in a turn. I hung out for an agonizing 30 minutes contemplating and hoping for the wind to turn, but it never did. Every time I lifted the glider to feel it in the wind I nearly lost control. I gave up hope of soaring and just wanted to get off the hill to avoid walking the glider down.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I was too emotionally involved in getting off the ground, my judgement was being affected. I unhooked, stepped away from the glider and looked at the situation objectively. Slightly down the hill, the slope better paralleled the horizon. I would be lower on the hill, but it favored the wind direction better. I put together a plan. I would hook back in, walk down the hill and wait for the wind to blow straight in. I would be facing mostly north, so it wouldn't take a huge direction shift to be lined up. If the wind never shifted, I'd walk back down the hill and enjoy the exercise. It worked, after about five minutes I found myself with a controllable wing that wanted to fly.
There wasn't another soul near me, but I yelled "Clear!" anyway and executed a perfect launch. There was lift right off launch and I climbed to about 75 feet over. From there I had enough altitude to head north before turning right to make the LZ. I pulled my VG full on and went for it. The wind was blowing at a 60 degree angle to the ridge, but there were enough northeast facing bumps on the hillside with ridgelift above them for me to work my way north. The ridge ended in steep rocky walls at Lee-Hill Canyon. If I could just make there, ridgelift would be plentiful. I skimmed the lower ridge, linking one small bump to another until I made it to the first rocky outcrops of Lee-Hill. At times I was low enough to kick the tree tops, I fully expected to have to break off to the right and land, but miraculously, never needed to.
At Lee-Hill I hit solid ridge lift. The lift band was narrow, but deep. I pushed out and gained 200' before I crossed through it. I turned back and worked a few more small lift bands to climb to 6800'. Now I had enough altitude to turn back down the ridge. As I did, the wind shifted east and lift became plentiful. I couldn't believe it! I was finally up!! I let out a few yells of joy and enjoyed the moment. Below me I could see into the empty hot tubs of wealthy houses straddling the ridge. Lower on the hill a herd of mule deer grazed in the grass, oblivious to my presence. To the west I was almost even with the snow line of the Front Range's towering peaks, to the east the high plains stretched out to the horizon. The upslope had arrived again and was bringing rain showers with it. I shifted back into super efficient mode and concentrated on getting as high as I could on the ridge.
Lee-Hill Canyon
I peaked out at about 7000' and decided to explore the valley to the east. The showers were getting closer and soon my face and arms were being pelted by granular snow pellets. I nervously scanned my leading edges to see if I was picking up ice. They were clean so I pressed on. I continued to climb slowly in a light convergence as I glided east. The snow got worse as I neared cloudbase and I started to feel the cold. My vario was showing a temperature of 25 degrees and an airspeed of 33 mph. Not expecting to get high I was wearing only a T-shirt, a wind-stopper jacket, Iron Clad gloves, and a full face helmet with no visor. I distracted myself from the cold by trying to make it over the Phoenix Multisport office. When I did, I could see a crowd below waving at me from the balcony. I yelled down, but at an altitude of 7800' I could only hear the sound of wind and snow pellets bouncing off me. Jo told me later that Molly had spotted me after the first yell and watched me intently for the rest of the flight.
At Cloudbase above the Phoenix Office
Molly Watching Intently
Soon I flew out of the convergence and found myself in 500 feet per minute sink. I tucked my tail and turned back to the ridge. I arrived at about 100 feet over the top and worked broken ridgelift to stay up. I could maintain, but the weather was deteriorating. I was cold and I didn't want to get greedy and be in the air when the full brunt of the storm pushed through. I flew out over the LZ to plan my landing.
Running Back to the Ridge
The LZ in North Boulder is as good as it gets. It's a wide open, groomed, grassy field that is landable in all directions with a huge wind sock. The only problem was that since I had launched a little league had set up soccer games all over the field. There was no real estate large enough for me land on anywhere in the field. I had plenty of altitude to glide north and land in Boulder County open space, but this would have consequences. Since the chainsaw incident Boulder is very sensitive about where we land. There are NO HANG GLIDING signs with a hang glider under a ghostbusters symbol plastered all over the open space. Just north of the soccer field was a perfect flat area, but I could see it was surrounded by "Closed for Re-Vegetation" signs. Not wanting to attract any bad press, these were not viable options. The only other option was a down-sloping postage stamp of prairie next to the wind sock. On the uphill side was a well used dirt path, on the downhill side were the crowded soccer games. The wind sock was showing a light northeast breeze. If the slope wasn't too steep and I flared like hell I might be able to pull it off. Overshooting was not an option, I committed to flare early and "ride the elevator down" if I came in too hot.
I boxed the field scanning for unseen hazards and watching the wind. I opted for an S turn approach over a downwind, base, final because the air was disorganized with lift and sink. At the right altitude I rolled out on final high enough to avoid any pedestrians walking on the path. I aimed just left of the wind sock. It was working out perfect. As I got closer I could see that there was a steep ditch that dropped into the soccer field. If I was still in the air by the ditch I would float into the goal net of the closest soccer game. Just as I transitioned fully upright I got popped up by a wind gust. Now, slightly high, I focused on making the spot. As I rounded out in ground effect I could tell it wasn't going to work. I was going too fast and the ditch was rapidly approaching. I waited until the last possible moment and flared like hell. I ballooned up about 6 feet, but held the flare and landed firmly on my feet. It worked! Safe on the ground I looked up to see that the soccer game had ground to a halt. The only thing still moving was the soccer ball. Every kid had stopped dead in his tracks to watch me land. I waved a friendly wave while the coaches yelled at the kids to keep playing.
North Boulder LZ
Success
The Wind Sock and Soccer Games
The Ditch
North Boulder from the Ground
I let out a few yells of joy and started breaking down. I hid my glider next to a playground and set out on the long walk back to the Phoenix offices. Everything about the flight was epic, from the time I started hiking up the hill to the long walk to pick up my truck. Others with more polished soaring skills might have an easier time getting up at North Boulder. Until Thursday I had had nothing but failure. The gravity of all those failed previous attempts to get up there was a huge factor throughout the day. As I walked back to the office I breathed a sigh of relief to have that weight lifted off on my shoulders. It was a day I'll remember for a long time.
Flights: 1. Airtime: 1:02 minutes.
3 comments:
Your label of 'epic posts' is spot on!
sweeeet! Good on ya mon!
'Spark
An Alex classic!
AGW
Post a Comment