Transformation: Gin Carrera to Gin Carrera+ (Plus): Part 3

In the basement sits a Gin Carrera+, its lines swapped over two weeks previous. The conditions that day allowed only for a short kiting session. Inaugural flight is still in the queue.

Today: a sunny Saturday morning with questionable winds - northwest, 15+ kts. A opportunity to head for the training hill @ Diefenbaker Park and try my hand at foot launching in rotor. The recently completed South Fraser Perim Road makes short work of the drive, allowing for a bypass of Burquitlam and New West. All in all, a 40 minute drive in non existent traffic.

Arrive to find the park empty - I gather iPG is none too keen to have students out in this. Wouldn't blame them as the conditions are leaning towards a plucked and dragged sort of day for newbs.

7AM on a summer Saturday, this place is typically filled with students and wings. But not today.

Setting up on the southern slope facing into the park bowl, I quickly clip in during a lull. A quick duck under to face the wing and a swipe of the brakes.

The rustle of leaves from the trees to the N/W followed by a rapidly building sway in the trees down the road to my right (west) signals an approaching gust. Gloved hands fumble to get at the C's - the risers miniscule width coupled with the new lines frustrate my efforts.

The gust builds, snatching the wing.

Pulling in the C risers, the tail is kept firmly planted. Looks like the new riser design does the job.

I use the dying wind to work the wing quickly into a wall and let it settle back onto the ground.

And wait...

And wait...

Another gust begins, but more west. There is enough to bring the wing up, turn, and run more or less across slope.

And wack!

The left tip falls victim to the rotor being formed off of the trees backstopping the main slope of the hill.

Kill the wing, ball it up, trudge back up.

A trio of attempts follow before calling it a day. I have one question answered - can I ground handle (thus launch) it in strong conditions?

Yes.

But how will it handle in light to nil conditions?

A question that will have to wait for the FlyBC training hill tomorrow morning.

Video of the First Flight on the Gin Carrera Plus

Transformation: Gin Carrera to Gin Carrera+ (Plus): Part 2

As, Bs and Brakes down. The Cs took another 1.5 hours in the backyard.

Sunday morning, off to FlyBC. I need more space to spread the full wing out and trace the lines from maillon to attachment tab - to make sure nothing is crossed or wrapped.

One pair of crossed lines on the left C, easy enough to sort.

I expected the riser swap to be very straight forward and aside from the B maillons, it would have been. Both maillons were a right sob to get clear of their respective riser loops. But perseverance paid off and the lines eventually made their way across. All of the maillons were taken to finger tight as there was no point in adding the quarter turn by wrench until after kiting the wing.

New riser left, old riser right.

Curious.

Transformation complete. Time to kite.

Laid out in the LZ. Very switchy winds today (SE right now).

Pull up. The tips noticeably lag compared to the base model.

Back down, South wind now. Notice the Altocumulus Virga?

Rebuild wall, winds now SW.

Pull up, again tips lag -a good sign for strong conditions.

I also tried my hand at A+Cs, and it appears this new configurations is much more user friendly. I was concerned I might have to engage the floating Cs, but all is good.

Due to the switch winds, more kiting will be needed to ensure there are no problems (mistakes in line attachment) followed a few jaunts up and down the training hill. 

Next weekend.

Onto Part 3 of the Gin Carrera Plus Transformation

Transformation: Gin Carrera to Gin Carrera+ (Plus)

Finally!

After two months, the line set has arrived.

When I first demo'd the Gin Carrera, I remarked on the inability to A+C's the wing during launch due to a rather unique riser configuration. The C3 line is mounted to a floating maillon between the main B and C attachment points. The webbing upon which this maillon rides significantly limits the C riser range of motion. The updated Carrera+ riser is expected to help address this short coming by lowering the rear attachment of the webbing strap.

Original Carrera riser layout.Note short C3.
Courtesy of Gin Gliders.  

Carrera+ riser layout. Note extended C3.
Courtesy of Gin Gliders.  

The other thing that stood out was the 'floppy' wing tips. The brake fan layout on the first generation Carrera would engage the centre portion of the trailing edge well ahead of the tips. The byproduct of this configuration is a reduced 'feeling' for an impending collapse short of riding somewhat deep into the brake range. The new line layout on the Carrera+ is expected to 'slow' the tips and engage the trailing edge in a more even manner.

The upgrade kit itself consists of 50 lines (for XS through to M) or 56 lines (for L and XL), an instruction set, a pair of new risers, a new certification/serial number label, packing bag tab, and a '+' sticker to affix to the right of the 'Carrera' label on the wing tip.

The instructions are a single double sided page:

The line set is organized into a collection of daisy chains, grouped by riser and by tier.

I set out to break the chains down and subgroup by pairs of individual lines.

Brake lines mid tier. Each pair (L and R) is placed in a single marked baggie.

Once all of the pairs are divided, its time to label the old lines that are to be replaced. As the instructions are not available online, I went overkill and created a label for every line, unsure which would be flagged for replacement.

Line labels.

Wing laid out in the backyard.

A check of the instructions to confirm which line is next.

Crack open the maillon, slip the line free, follow it to the attachment, un-hitch.

Place the tagged old line in a large baggie and extract the new line from its individual baggie. Check the tag holding the line pair to confirm the index (there is a slight inconsistency in how the lines are labeled on the instructions and on their tags - but it is easy to deduce what goes where). 

Follow the new line end to end, being sure to follow the instructions to attach the thicker sheath portion of the bottom most lines to the bottom of the mid cascade.

Re-attach. Rinse and repeat for other lines. When done, place back on old risers in same order.

I will do the riser swap at the dealers, as he has a rigging loft when I can also check each line end to end before taking for a spin kiting.

Thus far, both sides:

• A+Bs -> 1.5 hours
• Brakes -> 40 mins.

Next up Cs.

Onto Part 2 of the Gin Carrera Plus Transformation

The 2015 Ozone Chabre Open: Looks like a bit of a coup.

The results speak for themselves.


A 'rookie' on a Recreation Class Gin Carrera+ beat everyone, including the X Class pilots on the much higher performing Ozone Mantra 6.


Only goes to show the two axioms of competition flying:

1. It isn't the best pilot who wins, but the most consistent.
2. A comfortable pilot is a consistent pilot.

Small Victories (with a flying 'pitbull')

July First, a welcome mid week holiday.

Onto the West Coast Soaring Club Line group to pop a quick, 'Anyone flying Bridal?'

Andrei replies, "sometime after noon."

Car loaded and out the door. I will likely be sitting around for a few hours waiting for a ride to show, but as the investment adage goes, "Better a year early than a second late."

Sitting in the car at the Bridal LZ, AC running to stave off the increasing heat. It doesn't take long for a car bearing an older gent in a collared shirt to pull up. Josef, an occasional pilot here in the valley. 

Following him is a pickup with Chris and Shawn (the pilot from the Yukon who unofficially broke the Canadian PG distance record with a flight of 260 km). A little milling about occurs, hoping a ride shows up but no dice. Our quad of pilots piles into the pick up to make our way up to Lower Bridal.

Along the way Shawn recounts his adventures in Brazil, conversations with pilots planning to cross the Sierra Nevada range, and the Burning Man festival. Oh, and the general state of flying in the Yukon - the lone consistency lies in the lack of back to back flyable days.

Arrival on launch reveals some strange conditions. The west wind is completely absent and a pulse of NE cycles make their way through the trees just behind us. The outflow has yet to completely subside.

Time passes, the outflow ever...soooo....slowly decays.

Shawn kits up and I give him a hand layout the wing out, ribbing him with a "I just wanted to touch the highest performing PG wing in Canada.". It takes little time for a cycle to come through and Shawn is away and climbing out.

Chris is not far behind.

I watch their wings with a keen eye, looking for small sharp yaw and pitch movements indicative of rough conditions. Nada. Just smooth carves.

In the meantime, Andrei, Elena, Tyler and Kristi have arrived and hiking up with a family of 'launch tourists'.

Launch is about to get cozy. Go time.

Thirty minutes later Elena has set up above me and is starting to feel the afternoon heat. It is starting to roast out. A puff of a cycle comes through and Andrei points out, "Looks good." Not hard to tell he wants me to hustle so Elena can get away quickly. Wouldn't blame him in the least. Two sets back and the wing just drops. Not strong enough for a reverse. Switch to a forward. I hear the right tip thwack during the run but don't feel it.

Airborne.

Away from terrain and scan for traffic.

Clear.

The radio chirps to life, its Andrei...

"You have a small cravat on your left tip." Glance up, the trailing edge tip is caught in amongst a few C lines. One pump of left brake. No effect. Quickly grab and tug the stabilo. Clear.

It is situations like this where SIV training pays its dividend. One of the quirks of the sharknose on the Delta 2 is the tenacity of the cravats. Previously working through these makes for quick work in the real world.

Everything squared away, off to the mixing bowl we go. Except with the lack of wind, there is no mixing bowl today. Just a wide swath of gently rising 1.5 to 2.0 m/s air. Over Alan's Ridge and beyond. Approaching the next spine things spice up a bit and I start to bank into a carve. The rising air draws me towards the side of the mountain. I look down and east to see a road leading towards what I suspect is Upper Launch  A sudden chill to the air signals the end of the inversion.

Onwards to Elk!

Mind you, I am not entirely sure which peak Elk is, just that Elk is at the end of this ridge and that is where I am going.

So ...

Onwards to Elk!

The air begins to take on a sporty flavor with my first (and only) collapse of the day. I am near the lip of the ridge either in rotor or mixing thermals from both sides of the ridge. Not sure how much worse it will get, I decide to take a prudent path - push out front.

To find...

Sink, sink and, more sink. Rotor?

Oh well, return to the churn and backtrack to the bowl behind launch.

Several rivers of thermal crawl up the mountain to my right, beckoning the nose of the Carrera. One in particular causes the Carrera to go full on 'pit bull', the nose snapping right and charging in for the kill. My view immediately fills with tree covered hill side. Hard right to force the wing to do a three quarter turn to get back on heading. I make note of this spot to revisit at another time, today is not the day for tree top kicking climbs.

Back to the bowl to see Kristi climbing in a right hand turn. I blend in from outside and just behind but don't find much (1.5m/s) compared to the strength of the climbs closer to the ridge line (3.0 m/s).

Back west, again. This speaks volumes to my lack of patience.

I settle for a triangle route. Back down the ridge, out to the highway, back to lower.

The glide out to the highway initially has some decent chop (more hints of rotor?) but smooths out nicely. I am able to grab a drink from the Camelback and flip through some Podrunner mixes on the iPod+iHome mini speaker on the flight deck. Out in the valley, the west wind is picking up. There is a risk of being forced to back into the LZ if the wind climbs much more.

New plan: Play it safe, tag Lower, and set up to land.

The remainder is uneventful with landing coming up about 15 feet short of the cones. I watch other pilots work the ridge just downwind of launch, varying between standstill and crawl. I am sure the winds will die off as the sun sets. There are no regrets on my end for calling it a day early.

Just about to leave, I am paid a visit by a fellow flier who seemed quite content to stick around for a few minutes. Didn't have much to say, but then again ...

Those who do can't explain, those who don't can't understand.

A Paragliding Playlist

Early Saturday morning, expecting record breaking heat. The forecasts are confused, some indicating strong winds, others much more mild conditions.

Assume worst case, be out early to maximize odds of getting in the air before the arrival of the valley wind tempest.

0745 hrs - car packed up, sitting in the drivers seat and fishing through some old burned CDs from a decade plus ago. The faded out sharpie on one is barely legible, so I pop it in and take a four wheeled acoustic time machine.

16B feat. Morel - Driving to Heaven

Not hard to tell there is an upcoming holiday. The roads are busier than normal with folk heading off to Harrison Lake to camp. Traffic is manageable and I am fortunate not to get blocked by a freight train travelling inland, the tracks of which cross my path twice.

Arrival at FlyBC, the lot is empty. Everyone is either in Pemberton or Chelan.

No early students this weekend either. Odd. With the rapid onset of summer, the valley has become rather stable and prone to blowing out shortly after noon. This daily blow out is forcing student flights to occur in a very small morning window. I would have thought they would be eager to get out and flying.

What are out in increasing abundance are the skeeters. The car provides refuge until Jim appears and starts to mill about. Following Jim into the barn, multiple boxes of Sup'Air and Ozone product pop into view.

Jim starts unpacking and sorting this verifiable Christmas day for any pilot. As boxes are emptied and sorted, I have a chance to pick Jim's brain on the business and instructional aspects of the paragliding industry. Unexpected educational opportunity.

In the midst of this, I query regarding the Carrera Plus line set to see if it has arrived.

No dice. *sigh*

Jim points out that if it wasn't for the change in the riser geometry, we could have the line set fabricated rather than wait on Gin. Frustration grows after what has been a six week wait and I begin to ask in earnest about switching back to Ozone - maybe grabbing a lightweight B to use for hike and fly (along with the start of spring) and then wait for the release of the Delta 3.*

The boxes sorted, Jim returns to the house.  I lounge about until a pickup pulls in with a rather lost looking couple. Even money they are tandems.

Yep. Tandems.

Thirty minutes pass and the Atlas is loaded up with kit. A student finally pulls into the parking lot, but his body language hints he is not particularly eager to fly today. I can fully relate from my student days - I was the penultimate problem student and it is a testament to the patience of Dion at iParaglide that I made it through. I hope this student eventually finds his eureka moment as I fortunately did.

Sans student, the Atlas crawls relentlessly up the mountain. Driving to Heaven.

KMFDM - Superhero

At the top of the mountain, there is no escaping the growing heat. The two TMs (tandem masters), their charges, and I gingerly hike down the incline into the main parking area. Voices creep over the last climb to the launch area,

"Iwannagohome!"

"In a few minutes."

A family greets us as we crest the last climb. A trio of children are pacing about making it clear that staring at a haze filled valley floor does not constitute a valid use of their summer vacation.

A small collection of kit belonging to a new addition to our local flying community sits off to the left. I greet the gent (and manage to immediately forget his name for the first of three times that day) and answer his stream of queries about LZs, areas of lift, and obstacles.

It takes little time for the TMs to gear up the passengers, lay the wings out, and get set for launch. Dennis is off first and quickly finds himself in a flush cycle. Jim follows Dennis after the passing of the interloping cirrus. The hoots and hollers of Jims passenger shatters the stillness of the valley as I begin the machinations of aircraft assembly.

A faint engine noise off in the distance, a 4x4 making its way towards launch.

I wonder for a moment and return to getting ready.

Wing laid out and clipped in. I glance up to see a growing collection of neophytes appear, followed by a smaller number of tandem masters. A voice pipes up, "We have to stop meeting like this, you're leaving when I show up."

Definite deja vu. Martina is driving for Kevin and Andrei.

The cycles are now weakening and demonstrating a noticeable cross wind component due to the northern valley outflow.

A short puff of direct in wind prompts Kevin to announce, "Looks good". I suspect that is his hint to get the show on the road, they have paying customers and I am blocking up launch.

The trick to nailing a perfect launch is twofold - good kiting skills and a proper cycle. Kiting skills I know I have, the cycles - well there is not much one can do with 90 degree cross unless the goal is to kamikaze a stand of trees.

As the TMs start to unpack, I am hyper vigilant for the lack of wind on the left side of my neck (being back on to launch for a reverse pull up).

Finally a good one. A quick pull up, check, turn and three steps. Airborne. For the crowd of neophytes, a Superhero launch.

BT - Believer

The afternoon, Bridal Falls.

Gary, the gent whose name I still forget (by now I have learned he is a former skydiver, current speed flier, learned PGing in California, and lives in North Vancouver), and I camp out in the only shade to be found on launch. Eventually the valley wind will be blocked by the influx of thermic cycles, enabling us to launch. But for now we wait. I lose track of time, having fallen sleep until a pair of gents and a lady add to our number.

Several birds of prey circle overhead clearly marking climbs up along the ridge. Still no cycles.

The radio squaks to life, the accent sounds eastern European.Where there is one, there is often a hoard. Free for all ridge rules can be expected.

No time is wasted. We have a thirty minute opportunity to get ready and launch before the (potential) hoard arrives.

Gary and the two late additions are quickly away. The lady is going to drive the truck down. This leaves the gent whose name I can't remember and myself.

The cycles die.

NOOOOoooooo!

An impromptu fire pit in the upper corner of the lower launch lane leaves me with minimal room for a reverse pull up, even with a good cycle. This lack of wind means moving to the upper lane or flipping for a forward.

Forward it is ... with 15 feet of runway. I won't claim it was a pretty launch, but I managed to get away without taking any trees with me.

In the pod, I quickly turn left to face west and advance on Alan's Ridge. This spine is the stepping off point to benching up onto the plateau leading to the main ridge line connecting Cheam and Elk. Getting to Alan's Ridge requires the traversal of a bowl that is a mixing pot of thermals churned by the valley wind.  One of the members of our crew from a few years ago used to refer to this area as the washing machine, having discovered some potential additions to the SIV training regimen. Gary has already climbed up and is working towards the main ridge line.

The mixing bowl.

The decision to fly sans vario today means I will need to focus on feel to find lift and follow up with visual confirmation against terrain as degree of success. The Carrera thermal autopilot does its job flawlessly, the nose hunting towards nearby thermals and driving in. The churn makes for very disorganized climbs with the risers going slack at one point and necessitating a sharp jab of brakes. The wing threatens to frontal but settles back into place.

A presentation by Russell Ogden of Ozone comes to mind, one in which he comments on keeping a close eye on the wing in turbulent conditions to catch collapses as early as possible. I am normally one to go by feel when flying, using visual to keep an eye out for changes in conditions, climbs, traffic, and terrain.

But airspace is relatively unobstructed today and there is a decent lift band well out front of launch along the ridge. Maybe a good day to be made a Believer.

Empty airspace in front of launch. Great time to experiment.

IIO - Rapture (John Creamer & Stephane K Remix)


In front of launch, an airborne metronome flying like clockwork. East to west, west to east.

The lads heading for the LZ.

The air is clear of distractions, two of my counterparts already setting up to land and Gary well up on the plateau. The only thing I need to keep an eye out for is the tandem laid out (the 'hoard' turned out to be a false alarm - simply a father and son duo looking to get a flight in together).

Pushing to the outer edge of the lift band, I double check no one is around and crane my head back as best I can with the tail of the Impress 3 pushing my helmet to one side.

And watch.

The wing above is in continuous motion, reacting to the medium within which it exists. Small nudges forward and back of either one (yaw) or both (pitch) wing tips. I go hands up and leave the wing unhindered, still watching. The movements become more pronounced.

Wing based hypnosis.

Reigning the wing back in with a little brake, I impose my will on these small movements. When the right tip moves forward, I try to limit it with a small application of right brake. Same with the left. It feels strange to be applying brake inputs based on visual stimuli rather than brake/riser pressure especially when the wing and lines are dampening the output.

Odgen mentioned he uses this sort of technique in rather rough air more for collapse management, but I can also foresee value when working an inversion and trying to get a sense of where a thermal might be pushing through some distance off. The wing may start reacting with small otherwise un-felt nose twitches to the surrounding air being drawn in.

A lot more experimentation is needed, staring in Rapture, before I have this technique nailed down.

Sasha - Wavy Gravy

The sun edges towards the horizon.

Downshift.

Still in an experimental mood, I glide out over the highway. The soft, light lift from the concrete river makes for a sort of smooth Wavy Gravy-esque ride, a far cry from the toss and turn we have been finding mid day at Woodside. At a loss to explain why I don't come over here very often, I make a mental note to try to end every morning at Woodside with an end of day trip to Bridal.

I don't have quite the height to try again for the new gas station to the north of Hwy 1. My last trip with this source rendered a really nice thermal back up to launch height. Next time for sure, I promise myself.

Cross back over the golf course to hear the distinct thwack of a tee off.

Press on to the LZ.

Light winds and lifty. Figure-8 the tree line.

Line up with the wind sock for final and allllmost kick the cones demarcating the landing target.

Another great flying day comes to a close.






* A subsequent whine fest on my part on PG forum has drawn the attention of the Gin Canada distributor, so hopefully it will get resolved soon.

Back in the saddle: Part 2 (with the Skywalk RangeAir)

The wind sock goes from limp to a south, to a southwest, back to limp. The wing 'breathes' with the rise (the nose rising, A's tensioning ) and fall of the cycles (nose rolling over, A's going slack).

A cycle presents itself - going from a south to straight in southwest. Pull up and the high AR (aspect ratio) of the wing makes itself felt. Half the wing orients south, the other half more west.

Herding wingtips.

Having experienced this a few times while kiting the Delta2, I ease off the right side brake and let the lagging side 'snap' back into alignment. Kite for a second to let the wing settle, turn, and kite another second to be sure everything is good to go (an instructor from Germany mentioned letting the wing settle a second after it reaches the apex).

The cycle ebbs as I start the run. Airborne, touchdown, airborne, touchdown, airborne and away.

Long runways and weak days go hand in hand.

Two tries and I'm in the pod of the Skywalk RangeAir. The RangeAir is an extra light airbag XC harness. I have been a huge fan of airbag based back protection after watching a low airtime pilot spin a wing at tree top height, have it surge, pendulum him underneath then drop him hard. Running over, I fully expected to find a corpse. Instead the pilot was standing up and brushing himself off. The airbag harness absorbed the brunt of the fall.

The catch to an airbag system is that it needs to be inflated (by ram air) for it to work. Maybe not particularly well suited to those who are likely to suffer a drop launching such as a student who lacks the kiting skill to manage a wing or a comp pilot who doesn't have the luxury of being picky about the cycle they launch in. But for those in the middle, it is a viable option if weight and pack volume are limited - hike and fly pilots along with the globetrotting crowd come to mind.

As for the effectiveness of airbags - give this spreadsheet a gander. The lower the G force value listed (in column H), the lower the impact force passed onto the pilot. 'Schaumstoff' is foam based back protection (as opposed to airbag).

Back to the RangeAir, comments sent back to the dealer include:

A few observations - the weight and pack volume phenomenal. I can fit the harness + reserve in the Gin concertina bag with the Carrera. The reduction allowed me to drop to a 90L pack (from a 130L) with the possibility of dropping to a 70L. The loss in overall weight has me on the cusp of downsizing to a small wing.

Setup is a bit fiddly. I found the best way to accommodate is leave everything attached and loosen the shoulder straps for step in/out. Extra attention to the speedbag closing lines is needed in this case during donning - they like to pop loose.

The speedbag is very easy to get into post launch - I don't need my foot leash like I do with the Impress 3.

The chest strap appears to be non adjustable. I found out how much wider I normally run the Impress 3 in comparison when I near line twisted myself up leaning in aggressively on entry to a tight core.

I am leaning towards saying the Range Air provides more feedback vs. the Impress 3 but need more airtime to be sure.

Two additional features of note - the reserve is front mounted, which satisfies the growing comp requirement that the reserve be reachable by either hand. The front mount also eliminates the possibility that pilot weight in a hammock harness (as opposed to those with a seat board) will interfere with reserve extraction. There is also the matter of an underseat reserve potentially placing a non compressible perch between the pilot and the ground. The first thing that will hit may well be that  un-deployed reserve, prevent the remainder of the body from absorbing any impact - driving the entire impact force up into the spine. Something to think about - is the underseat reserve under your spine or your upper legs?

The second is the flight deck/front mount reserve container that is held in place by attaching to the chest strap. This helps eliminate the possibility of launching without having the leg straps done up. I had crossed paths with a fellow Impress3 owner who had launched with the flight deck secured but not the leg straps. The small snap shackle held them in long enough to get into the harness, but the shackle design would not have held them long if they could not hook their feet into the speed bag (based on comments from a harness designer back in 2012).

RangeAir

Flight Deck/Front Mount Reserve Container

Reserve Container Flipped. Leg straps tread through.

Two step speed system.

Speed bag closing loops

Opening for hydration bladder.

Velcro and securing tab for Spot or micro vario.

Back to the flight.

The trusty spine.

After a few beats back and forth, there isn't much out here yet. I try my goto trigger, the spine to the north. There is some lift, but not much. Time to push out.

The vario shows a south wind @ 8kph (2 m/s). Climbs are also 2 m/s. Add that to a 1 m/s sink.

Quick mental math time: 2 m/s horizontal vs. 3 m/s vertical. Move upwind, but not much today.

And I find it, 5 seconds of climb along a southerly course. A turn right and I fall out the side. Get it around quick then begin to widen the turn. More chirps from the vario. Tighten it up and we have a core.

Bring it around. Bring it around.

399 m.
400 m.
401 m.
401 m.
400 m.

An inversion establishing or did I just lose the core altogether?

Widening the turn again, looking for a way to keep climbing.

The Carrera starts 'sniffing'/edging right. I align the wing with it and feel myself being sucked in.

Another climb, this one breaks through and gets me to 460m, but has me pretty far north. Zero chance of making Riverside, still a chance of making the Ranch. Time to push out, keeping some margin for error on a day the winds are forecast to climb quite a bit. Not a lot to be found, again bouncing off an invisible ceiling around 400 m.

Not much from the farm buildings today.

Eventually, gravity claims both the wing and I as we set down at the Ranch.


The afternoon is punctuated with a bit of kiting in the growing valley winds. Attempts at A+C'ng the Carrera is met with frustration as the wing repeatedly tries to horseshoe. Hopefully the C+ addresses this, as this is my go to technique for stronger mid afternoon conditions.

No point in fretting about it until I have the new line set installed.

Otherwise a good day to be back in the saddle.

Back in the saddle: Part 1

A year and a half of doctors, specialists, insurance intermediaries, and drug coordinators to finally be able to have this view:

Health was slowly but surely worsening, bringing flying to a halt at the end of last season (the season in itself became more or less a write off after France). A brief respite was offered last Fall with one drug but with side effects it was not destined to become a long term solution.

But then hope. A drug regimen that could bring back a quality of life not known since mid 2013. There are risks (some potentially fatal), but what is the point to quantity of life if there is no quality. So here I am, plugged into an IV and getting pumped full of chemicals with one plan in mind - getting back into the air.

Cut to the following morning. FlyBC is the immediate target, the launch on Mt.Woodside is the ultimate goal. Upon arrival, things are little slow starting - the crew are awaiting students and tandems alike. It doesn't take for Jim and I to cross paths. Jim passes on that the Carrera+ line set kit should be in within a week. Aside from a few quirks - the initial brake travel deflects the centre trailing edge while leaving the tips unaffected (making it difficult to sense collapses without going well into the brakes) along the extremely short amount of play between the B+C risers (making A+C launches in strong conditions tricky) - I'd be singing praises to the moon about this wing with the feedback, handling and performance it has for a B. That said, rumblings from the interwebz hint that the kit might have swung the pendulum too far the other way - taming the tiger to the point of making it a house cat. For a few hundred dollars, I'm willing to take the chance.

Lounging in the barn, eyeing the launch webcam.

Looks like Degas is already up top and launching a pair of self landing students. The early days of being under instruction and having to be up at 5AM. Don't worry chaps - it gets easier (both with respect to flying and not having to be up before sunrise).

Then a 'Here!'

A dark mass hurtles my way.

A t-shirt. A new load of FlyBC branded wear just arrived. 'Shut up and Fly' remarks the back. Be in the moment, not a detached bystander I take it to mean. Very fitting in our social media age where posting about the event tends to trump the experience. Yes, I see the irony.

People filter in, the van fills, and we're off.

At launch, nary a wind this morning.

Oh well.

Tandems first, students second, then moi. I'm not being polite, just pragmatic. Students make good thermal markers - send enough of them out, they are sure to find something.

A few good launches, a few amazing launches (funny how you can spot the gifted ones fairly early) and Jim heads off to start collecting everyone at the LZ.

I hear a truck making its way up the road. This early in the day, odds are another school.

I like to think of schools as coming from one of two trains of thought - the German or the French.

The German school will lay the unattached wing out in the centre of launch and check every individual line from karabiner to attachment. Then they will clip in, perform their 15th preflight check, and wait. And wait. And wait. The elusive perfect cycle is out there.

The French on the other hand will preflight the harness and wing before packing it away. Then pull everything out, still attached, don the kit at the back of launch, preflight it again, and carry their rosetted wing out. The mass is tossed mid launch. The wind is used to work the wing into shape. The wing is then pulled over head, kited, and checked. If everything looks ok, they are gone.

Why do I mention this -> If a French school pilot gets in front of you - its no big deal, they will be in the air in a minute or less. If a German school pilot gets in front, break out a novel because its gonna be a while. The German school pilots are more commonly known in these parts as launch potatoes (I admit I am a reforming launch potato).

I fear this school might be of the German mindset and quickly get kit ready. The trucks pull into the parking lot. A FJ? I recognize it as belonging to Martina. Sigh of relief. No launch potatoes.

An entourage follows Martina up. Friends/family of a neighbour of hers who is going tandem.

No pressure. You only have your mentor and entourage watching.

A lesson in why kiting is an important part of launching soon follows.

Sled run for one, sled run for all.

Day two with my sheep in wolfs clothing (the recently acquired Gin Carrera Medium in Apple).

The atmospheric sounding for the day is looking promising with moderate lift to above launch height and an ever increasing prefrontal inflow. Get out early and stay up all day is the plan. Too bad reality doesn't always mimic the forecast.

Arriving at the FlyBC Ranch, I see a number of cars parked about but zero activity. Maybe everyone has already headed up the hill?

A quick peek through the spyglass reveals the Russian collective up on launch, but no sign of Jim or crew.  A few wings eventually launch and make their way down to the Riverside LZ. From the direct route they take I suspect lift is as elusive as ever today.

Half an hour passes and a truck pulls up carrying one of our 'long lost brethren', Robin, who has been pulled away by the real world for the last season and a half.  We catch up on how things have been and Robin provides some suggestions on shows to watch to help kill time as the long white cloud of winter dampens flying. Gary and (the other) Martin soon arrive and we make our way up to launch.

Up top appear a few other faces we rarely see these days - Mia and (the original) Martin. Must be a special event bringing everyone out.

And that there is - an ash scattering.

One of the local landowners, Joe, who had been a big part of the flying community passed some time ago and his family wanted him to enjoy one last flight. It would be another few hours before that flight was due to occur, but folk were making their way up to launch and getting a first sled run in before the main contingent arrived.

The first flight off was uneventful aside from the nuisance of the brake line 'ball' on the right toggle getting fished through a pair of twisted C lines. Basic preflight failure - not following the line from the toggle to the 'swivel' after an abort. Not impressed with the loss of the flight, I make a point of swinging further south over the ranch to put myself in clear view of anyone in the parking lot - hoping someone might look up and hang around a few mins while I pack up.

The gambit pays off as Jim pulls the 'bus' around into the LZ and a few students hop out to give me a hand quickly packing up the wing.

Round 2.

We arrive to find a decent size crowd on launch just as the Joe's ash flight is about to take off. They are away without incident and head south-ish. Another tandem quickly follows suit (I suspect a second family member). It is certainly a perfect day to see Joe off - not a cloud in the sky and silky smooth air.

My flight was another of non drama - smooth inflow, little to no lift. A textbook student first flight day.

Landing, I figure I am done for the day and have the car packed up. Robin lands and starts discussing with Martin about the possibility of time for yet another go at it.

6.2 aspect ratio in an EN B, who would have thought?

Round 3.

The cycles are dying off in the setting sun. The Carrera is as easy a wing to forward launch as any and I am away knowing this will be yet another top to bottom. Might as well make the best of it and it's varying degrees of speed bar all the way down.

An amazing weekend to break in a new wing, catch up with old friends, make new ones and, most importantly, to send one of our 'family' off.

If the season ended here - it would be on a perfect note.

*contented sigh*

Take some Gin (Carrera), add some Apple, shake (Part 2).

...

not even packed up and the Atlas pulls up in the landing field. The query from the cab, 'heading back up?'

That is an affirmative, Ghostrider.

Back on top of the mountain and every one is milling about, not a wing in the air.

Curious.

A gust comes through rustling the trees and ... blowing downhill. Ah, so ka.

An hour later, having gotten my fill of jawboning with local and student alike I realize that we are starting to see marked lulls in the downhill flow of wind. There is going to be rotor at some point away from the hill, but the sound of the wind in the trees hints at peak speeds less than 20 kph. Definitely choppy, but manageable.

I recall a piece of advice from Chris over the summer regarding boundaries and a shrinking flight envelope. If we never test our comfort zone, the conditions within which we are willing to fly will continually shrink until even the tamest of conditions will be perceived to be beyond our ability. In other words, from time to time we have to be willing to go to where there be dragons.

Begin pre-launch montage.

And so the cycle begins of waiting for the elusive lull, hoping the mountain doesn't go completely katabatic before I can get away.

I feel the slightest hint of uphill wind, the flag at the bottom showing wind coming in, the sock beside me limp. Its enough and I am off.

3...2...1... cue 'Highway to the Rotor Zone'.

I drift rapidly to the left and turn quickly right 90 degrees to face into the wind coming over the ridge to the north. The aggregation of the wind being driven up and over that ridge line has me parked in its lee. I am not entirely sure how far this compression extends, so the thought of a straight downwind run leaves me iffy with the river in that line of flight. I feel my best chance is cross wind it and face west again. My active flying skills gets their first real test since France, with the wing rolling, yawing,  and pitching about in the turbulent churn. It is under these conditions I get a better sense of the pitch stability of the Carrera. On the Delta2 I would have my work cut out for me with the wing reacting to the gusts in a series of sharp pitching motions. The Carrera remained more or less overhead, freeing some mental effort from having to be hyper vigilant in trying to prevent a full frontal via an errant gust. The roll on the other hand demanded more attention, with one cross wind gust announcing itself with a rapid twacking of the fabric in the speed bag of the pod followed by my losing the left quarter or so of the wing.

A minute of riding the chop and I am in dead calm air. Jim had chimed in on the radio suggesting pushing further south towards the Riverside LZ as opposed to my drive west, pointing out that the wind would die off quickly as I move further downwind from the northern ridge. In retrospect, it would have provided an increased chance for success over my eventual route towards the Ranch LZ.

Lesson learned.

After the mountain tried its hand at shaking up a Gin/Apple martini I feel that one could sum the wing up as "feels like a 'C', recovers like a 'B'".

Take some Gin (Carrera), add some Apple, shake (Part 1).

Tuesday, a peek in the inbox reveals, "Still interested in trading in your Delta 2?".

Jim has a potential buyer looking for a preowned Ozone Delta 2 Large, I'm looking to downsize, and the demo model Gin Carrera M is up for sale.

We might just have the makings for a deal.

By end of day we certainly do as I am lighter a Delta 2 plus some cash and heavier one Gin Carrera in apple.

Courtesy of Gin Gliders.

The weight loss that drove the downsizing had been root caused by the specialist the day prior (a genetic conspiracy it would appear) and meds prescribed to get it and a plethora of other symptoms under control (one of the more notable being nausea that would take hold in less than 20 mins from the time of launch).

Saturday morning. While the side effects of the meds are still a bit of a nuisance, I am starting to feel better than I have been in several months.

Only one way to celebrate this fortunate turn of events, pile the kit into the car and bee line for the hill.

Upon arrival, the LZ is virtual ghost town with Jim having taken the students to the training hill pending the establishment of the afternoon inflow. Knowing there might be an hour plus wait I wander the Ranch and chance upon a pair of pilots waiting for a ride, chatting them up in sequence to help kill the time.

The beep beep beep of a Nissan Atlas backing up heralds 'go' time and we all pile into the van for the first run of the day. The skinny on the Line group for the local club hinted that most folk would be up in Pemberton thus leaving us an uncrowded hill for what might be the last weekend of summer.

The crew is a mixture of first time and low air time pilots, plus moi. The nervous energy of the first timers, as they come to grips with the magnitude of what they are about to do and the sense of empowerment that will surely follow, leaves me with both a smile and sense of envy. How many of us on those first few rides up the mountain were not thinking at some point, "why am I doing this?", only to have any and all doubt disappear within seconds of landing?

Left to my own thoughts - how is my stomach going to handle this? The wing is smaller than my last and despite the EN-B rating, it is much more talkative (reactive to turbulence). Much like the first timers, I need to cast doubt aside and simply trust that it is going to be fine.

At the top we find waiting for us (the other) Martin and a pair of ladies that typically fly Bridal Falls on the south side of the valley. With the sun inching lower on the horizon each day, north facing Bridal is finding itself more and more in shade thereby driving the regulars to south facing Woodside. But even with this trio added to our ranks, Woodside is far from becoming a beehive of activity today.

The femme fatale duo launch first, followed by myself. Getting settled into the swing of things takes longer than normal as I try to align how I would fly the Delta 2 with the handling of the Carrera. It doesn't take long to realize that I need to let the wing do its thing and more or less just 'shut up and listen'.

Allowing the wing to sniff out the sporadic collection of 0.1 and 0.2 m/s climbs, I again have Kelly's advice playing in my head about mirroring the air but keeping energy in the carve. The wing turns in much quicker than the Delta2 and yet I find it more reluctant to dive if I am bit heavy handed on the initial turn in. Following what appear to be a trio of buzzards, I claw and scratch my way back up to launch height. By this point I am half an hour into the flight and my stomach is handling things remarkably well. Two more pilots have since launched and all have or are in the midst of landing.

Then the -2.4 m/s flush.

No matter where I go, the mountain is singing some Celine Dion track whilst I am being drilled to the oceans floor.

To the LZ it is. Nary a climb on the way out, but it matters not as I arrive with height to spare.

Thus ends what is easily my best flight since the last day in France at St.Vincent.

There is hope.

Gin Carrera: One EN B to rule them all.

A revelation occurred while I was in Laragne - my wing (an Ozone Delta 2 - Large) is not penetrating or reacting as fast as I remember from last year. A quick hop on the scales and voila  - I somehow managed to lose 10 kg since the last time I checked back in February.

Weight versus wing size: a constant battle of trade offs.

The layman would respond to such an occurrence with congratulations. In the flying world, a loss (or gain) of this magnitude can have serious implications. In the worst case a pilot may no longer be within the certified weight range for the wing, meaning anything from a disqualification in competition to undefined behavior when departing normal flight. In my case the loss means I am no longer flying at the top end of the weight range for the wing. This means that while my glide ratio is still the same in calm air, it can drop significantly in anything beyond a mild headwind. It also means a loss of responsiveness, which is both bad and good. Bad in that initiating turns will take more effort and will be slower but good with any turn initiated by a collapse suffering from a similar dampening. And while the impact of any individual collapse will be lessened, the frequency will go up as the pilot approaches the bottom end of the weight range.

The options: carry an extra 10 kgs of ballast (basically a few large hydration bladders filled with water) or downsize the wing.

Enter Gin.

Gin wings have been somewhat of a snuffalopogus here on Canadian Pacific Coast. The distributor for the longest time was US based and charging upwards of 20% over competing brands being sold by our local dealers. Combine this with a Canadian dollar trading at or below par for the last few years and there has been little incentive to give the brand a second look. A Gin wing in these parts is a rare sight indeed.

The only constant - change.

Then within the last year a local pilot partnered up and secured distribution rights for Canada. With these rights, they have been able to provide wings to the local dealer at a price point making them competitive to the locally established brands.

Open your mind (to new possibilities).

If you look up brand loyalty in a dictionary, you will find no reference to me. If a product from manufacturer A meets my needs better than that from manufacturer B which I am currently using, I switch. So with an open mind to the possibility of switching brands, I contacted our local dealer to give a medium Carrera a roll in the ethereal hay.

Getting a sense of things.

Two immediate impressions: fast and responsive.

The wing does come up dynamically during launch, requiring some input either via the brakes to settle in place (in light winds) or the C risers (in stronger conditions). After pull up and turn to run, I feel the harness pressure start to go slack, meaning the wing was surging ahead of me. My typical response with the Delta 2 is to pour on the gas and get ahead of it. The Carrera would have no part of this technique and wants brake input to settle it back in place. Once out and away from launch, it is time to give this vixen a quick shake down run.

I instinctively take my half wrap grip with the toggles, causing the brake line 'balls' to settle into the upper palm of my hand with my thumb and index finger settling on top in contact with the brake line. I am not sure if this is the best position to use yet, but it is what I am accustomed to.

Catching the edge of the house thermal right off launch with the left wing tip, the pod picks up a slight yawing oscillation. Once the yaw was settled, I begin a progressive bank into the thermal and get an immediate sense of the wings agility. Whereas the Delta 2 will tend to resist the initial turn in until some speed has built up, the Carrera simply carves in with little hesitation. This results in an immediate 'whoa nelly' application of outside brake. Turning on a dime in sharp, narrow cores will not be a problem with this wing but extra care will be needed on weaker days. Realizing that a smoother, subtler brake application will be needed with this wing - I ease up on the inside brake and centre on the core within a pair of turns. By the end of the second turn, the lack of roll dampening becomes increasingly obvious. What I mean by lack of dampening is that with the Delta 2 I get a sense of riding on the sea, the wing reacts to the air by moving around in a relatively unified manner - much like bobbing on the ocean on a light wind day. The roll movements in the Impress 3 are soft and smooth for the most part (there have been notable exceptions mind you, almost all involving Pemberton in some sort of lee). Contrast this with the Carrera where the roll movements are sharper and more independent. I get a sense that the two halves of the wing tend to fly less unified than with the Delta 2.

This increasing roll activity means increased workload, but it also means more feedback. Still getting comfortable with this new dimension of input, I work my way from the house thermal northwards to a ridge leading to the clear cut just above and behind launch. Climbing here is one of the fastest ways to peak the mountain, but the climbs tend to be more disorganized as they break off from a sudden flattening of slope at the clear cut edge. Searching doesn't take long as the wing actually yaws right about 45 degrees and pitches forward slightly, taking me through a slight amount of sink and right into a thermal. The Delta 2 tends to slide diagonally under these circumstances, requiring my subsequent input to turn and align it with the thermal proper. In the thermal and still deciphering the roll, I find myself quickly drawn into the core.

Climbing above launch, I push back south towards the house thermal. Once again the wing yaws, pitches forward ever so slightly and is drawn into the thermal. Thermal autopilot?

Fast forward to the afternoon, the inversion is well established and the winds picking up on launch. Not  too strong ... yet. It is under these conditions that I find my major gripe with the wing - the C risers. The  short distance between C and B risers means that keeping a wall built and the wing C stalled with the tail on the ground is much more difficult than with the Delta 2.  Then there is the matter of spilt C's. If the outer risers are not taken, the tips will repeatedly try to fly and nose over into the centre of the wing. A new owner not accustomed with this configuration (and the split but not split A's) can expect to put some time in kiting under strong conditions to dial in their launch technique. An SIV is a must as well to get a sense of far one can push the stall/spin point. While the Delta 2 was surprisingly forgiving when I first tried stalling and spinning it, I am not one to immediately assume that the same holds true with other similar performance wings such as the Carrera (even with a common brake pressure).

Taking the wing out in the rattier, wind torn thermals I get my first collapse with it - the typical outside tip during the first turn trying to map a climb in less than stellar conditions. The tip snaps back into place on its own with no further drama. I would not have taken this collapse under the Delta 2, highlighting the extra workload one can expect.

Approaching the landing field and the valley wind is in full swing. The ease with which the wing noses its way upwind is noticeable with far fewer of the slight pitch backs I would normally see on the Delta 2 under gusty conditions. Landing is similar to the Delta 2 with a nice smooth progressive flare - it will take a few tries of progressively lower 90 degree hooks to final to see how quickly the wing will plane out (a common technique of mine with tighter LZs).

To sum it up.

For the pilot who is moving up from what is considered an EN A or low end B, please realize that the EN test rating does not reflect the workload this wing will require before departing normal flight. Gin has described this wing as 'Performance' and a true successor to the EN C Tribe. Simply put, if you are not yet willing to jump on an EN C you might want to consider other options right now such as the Atlas, Rush, and/or Chilli.

But if the pilot is looking to upgrade and is already demoing wings classed as EN C (Delta/Alpina, Cayenne, Artik, Maverick, Sigma, etc), give this wing a try. It has quite a bit to offer an experienced pilot and would in theory allow them to compete in EN B class. Best of both worlds?