Evaluation Day

The 3 hour rollercoaster ride through the Alps now complete, our group finds itself waiting in the hotel lobby, occasionally summoned by the desk clerk via a call of 'alora'. The rooms are not quite ready - Kelly's desire for an early start to the day meets the national institution of 'Italian Time'. In 'Italian Time', things get done when they get done and no amount of pushing, prodding, or pestering will make it occur any faster. As we arrived on a Sunday, we were treated 'Italian Savings Time', where things get done at half the pace they would have under  'Italian Time'.

An hour later, we have our own proper rooms (greatly appreciated over the shared mini single wide that was my home for the previous two weeks in Doussard), sort our kit quickly and race down to the parking lot to meet Kelly, our retrieve driver Luigi, and head to the hill.

Kelly announces that today was an evaluation day, to get a sense where each of us are at and what the instructional flow for the week will be like. I get a feeling he both wants to see how his returning students have put to practice what he taught them last year and to see what the self-taught, such as myself, need correcting.

The conditions are typical for Bassano when a weather system invades the northern Alps - some degree of north Foehn effect up high and stable with an inversion just above launch. In addition a valley wind was beginning to set up from the west, and would grow as the day progressed, though nothing like what one would see in Annecy.

We load up the van, make a quick stop at the bailout LZ, and beeline up to launch. Kelly wants the crew off early to avoid the 'witching hour', when conditions can get particularly strong at the inversion. Last off, I head out and start sniffing out lift, climbing up to and eventually through the inversion. Half an hour later the radio squawks, "Mark, I am on your left, follow me to the flats.".

So began my first steps of XC (Cross Country) flying in Bassano, heading out over Borso. We search out and work blue thermals sourced/triggered by church towers, factories, and tree lined hills.

Quintessential flatland flying.

Then the return leg - 20 kph head wind. We claw our way back, though the inefficiency in my thermal technique begins to show and I bomb out for a random farmers field that had been recently hayed, though not yet bailed.

Replay this flight on Doarama.

A half hour pack up and hike out to find some shade beside a children's school, a quick text to Luigi with my GPS coordinates, and I am back at the hotel just in time for lunch to end.

Typical.

A quick debrief from Kelly indicates we will focus this week on my thermal carve (being able to turn in a thermal without swing through) and map (finding the core in the most efficient way possible while maintaining the carve) and we are back in the bus for an evening boat back and forth along the hill before venturing into the flats.

Another out landing.

Another retrieve.

The restaurant is slow in serving dinner so I will be fed tonight.

'Italian Time' is a wonderful thing.

In Transit

Two weeks of SIV with Jocky Sanderson come to a close as my fellow participants journey forth - some heading home,  some sticking around to freefly, others leaving for the Chabre Open taking place a few hours to the southwest.

Myself? Hurtling along a windy mountain pass road between Mayrhofen, Austria and Bassano Del Grappa, Italy. At the wheel is our instructor/guide, Kelly Farina of Austrian Arena, a rather animated British-Italian with an immense span of knowledge on all things paragliding, the Alps, and Wing Chun kung fu related.

Weather and a developing situation between the paragliding community, the mountain, and a local hunter has caused the two weeks of coaching planned to take place in the Zillertal valley to be relocated to the southern side of the Alps. Not that I am one to complain, the 13C high near noon in Munich yesterday is now replaced by 21C @ 9AM passing through Trento. Alhough I will miss the Weiss bier that the local Zillertal brewery has finely crafted (having consumed a trio of pints with two rather entertaining and quick witted Brit gents, Matt and Paul, yestereve), I think the weather and flying will more than make up for it.

Aside from Paul and Matt, I am joined by three of the Swedes (Markus, Magnus, and Olle) from my second week of SIV and two fellow Canuck pilots from Vancouver Island, Maurice and Bev. Ironically enough, it was Bev's e-book on her experiences with Kelly last year that encouraged me to dig further into Kelly's course offerings. The fact that Bev has returned for another round bodes well for the weeks ahead.

The perfectly clear blue sky here is welcome change and there is hope that we will be airborne later today.

Ozone Delta 2 SIV: "You overshot the landing field, on a windy day?!"

I can honestly say at this point that I can no longer recall each of the stalls that I have done. But I can say that if one does result in a cravatte (about a third of them have so far), it is a right SoB to get out with this wing. Once the lines wrap tight on the rod embedded wing tips, I know my SIV flight is all but finished due the time required to correct and the limited altitude between launch and landing.

If the cravatte is a simple wrap around, brakes may work, but the stabilio appeared to be the best first option - clearing the problem almost every time vs wasting time/altitude on 3 or 4 deep pumps on the brake with uncertain results.

In a line wrapped wingtip scenario, forcing a one third asymmetric on the cravatted side appeared to work the best. Single hand tugs on the stabilo didn't work at all, hand over hand was hit and miss - I stopped hand over hand when the wing began to turn and dive.

Re-stalling was not attempted as the wing was controllable and altitude limited.

So, a word for new owners, the wing is in most respects rock solid. Collapses are very few and far between, with ample warning. When a collapse does occur, it is mostly a non-event. But if a collapse brings about a cravatte, keep in mind clearing it can take a fair amount of time and, in my case(s), bolder solutions up front proved more effective in terms of height loss. YMMV.

Outside of SIV flying, I managed to get a pair of short (30 and 45 minute) free flights in when the valley wind exceeded the safe maximum for a reserve toss over water. Today's was particularly interesting as the wind was gusty and frequently exceeding the trim speed of the wing. Bobbing on a rolling sea of gusting air. I finally pulled ears (which flapped quite a bit, but not unexpected given the non laminar nature of the wind) and set up for the elevator ride down/back right at the upwind edge of the field. Just as I passed the wind gradient, the wing started creeping forward. A touch of the brakes and back up I went. Repeat one more time and I just went hands up, sunk to about 5 feet off the ground, and all but kicked the hedge at the north end of the field. A gust then sent me sideways to the right, towards a sign post. While still flying the wing, the right foot went up and out, pushing off the post as I set myself down and drop the wing over the hedge. A four foot overshoot on a field several hundred feet deep. The title is a comment from Jocky during the retrieve, and well deserved - target fixation on maintaining my 'base' on the up wind side of the field, as opposed to repeated touches on the brakes to back in.

Judgement++.

Ozone Delta 2 SIV: Double your pleasure, double your fun, two cravattes for the price of one.

Round two of SIV.

After a quick warm up flight last night with the new group (B-lines, Big Ears and Big, Big Ears), it's time to jump back in the saddle and continue with stalls this morning.

Launch was clouded in after yet another two days of stormy weather, saturated ground meets warm sun, and the queue amongst the various schools is rather backlogged.

Clearings begin to take shape as the moisture finally evaporates away, allowing pilots to begin launching.

My turn comes, next to last in our group. I wanted more time to mentally rehearse the flight to come and allow the back log to clear, making for less traffic while landing.

Yet another forward launch (the SIV has given a wonderful opportunity to practice forwards, though I will need to  invest time kiting to get back up to speed on reverses) and I am off. A decreased degree of nervousness this time around flying out to face the stall demon.

Crabbing the wing out to our practice area, the radio pipes up, "Mark, make yourself tight in the harness and..."

"...Stall it."

Not slowing the wing, I jam the brakes to the point of resistance and force them through to arm lock.

Falling back.

Left side drops and I fall into it.

Sudden jerk in the brakes.

Resist.

Getting ready to release and check the dive...

"...and release."

Hands up smoothly, wing surges, momentary slackness felt in the lines, brake the dive, flying smooth and straight.

'Check', another stall down.

"Mark, You have two cravattes."

TWO? SONNUVA...!

"The left is the larger, start with pumping it out."

Looking up, it is clear both wing tips are trapped in the lines, rather than around the front. Pumping had no effect.

Reaching for the green stabilo line...

"Try your stabilizer."

Tug, tug, tug.

More brake pumps, nothing.

"Try pulling outer A."

Pull in an ear, let it out, nothing.

I notice that I am facing away from shore. A slow weight shift right and I turn back towards the lz.

Right hand through toggle and I hand over hand the stabilo, working most of it clear.

"Ok, now the right side."

Same procedure, similar results.

A final handful of deep brake pumps on both sides and the Delta 2 was back to being a proper wing.

Needless to say the wingovers and landing approach were nothing to write home about. The wing felt a little twitchy coming in and I wasn't entirely sure if it was due to line/rod damage or adrenaline. A quick inspection that cost me the next flight showed no immediately visible issues.

It is clear that mental fatigue is beginning to set in after so much flying in such a short period of time. I will likely need to ease off to two flights a day until the SIV is complete.

But the stalls will continue, as the show must go on.

Ozone Delta 2: Annecy XC: Teeth and Beef

Last day of week one with Escape XC and, finally, a day with proper Annecy Cross Country (XC) weather. Slightly cloudy over the peaks, cloudbase above 1500 meters, meteo winds more or less from the west and the valley wind setting up nicely from the north.

A lake crossing?

A distinct possibility!

Our group arrives on Planfait launch in early afternoon and goes about kitting up. All of the launches are without drama and everyone sets about working through 'solving' the equation to get up and get away.

Once launched, one must try to quickly getaway from the short 400 meter launch ridge and bench back to the rock/craig at the base of the 'gums' (the 'gums' are the forested slope leading up to Les Dents De Lanfon - The Teeth of Lanfon - who Lanfon is, I am not sure, but the peak certainly resembles teeth in need of some serious dental work.). To cross to the craig, climb to at least 100 meters over launch (1050 meters total), which can typically achieved by working the north west corner of the ridge for valley wind ridge lift. Then cross to the base of the 'gums', all while being sure to stay above the craig at all times (otherwise, about face and return to the launch ridge and work back up for another attempt). 

Once on the gums, a simple zig zag pattern is all that is needed, hugging in tight to the trees to work ridge lift until a thermal rolls up from the valley below. Hitch a ride and cloudbase is all but certain.

Once inline with the teeth (1500+ meters), it is possible to glide to the Roc de Boeuf on the opposite side of the lake, though more altitude is better. Aim for the north west face, taking into account the increasing valley wind strength during the descent on glide. Arrive at the 'Beef Rock' before 900 meters. Once at the north west face, work ridge lift in a zig zag, up and back along the ridge. Getting above 1400 meters enables one to make a run for the Doussard LZ without fear of being smacked about in leeside rotor. Getting higher still allows one to glide back across the lake towards Forclaz launch, and continue on with the Petit Tour du Lac.

From this, you can gather how far I have gotten on my two attempts thus far- both times stuck on the 

Cow, waiting for the sun to progress more to the west and activate the thermic cycles along the ridge. The first flight was an hour and thirty minutes, trapped in a competition sized (30+ wings) gaggle that was praying for a higher cloudbase and less over development after crossing the lake. The second was two hours and thirty minutes and ended in the same place, but with a smaller group of fellow spastic puppets.

The high points of the flights were coming across a vulture thermaling while approaching the lake, crossing paths with it less than a dozen meters away, and then following it on glide. The second was wandering off on two occasions away from the gaggle to try my hand thermal sniffing, catching a fast climb and zooming past everyone else on the ridge.

Small victories, but victories still.

Rinse and repeat tomorrow, with a plan to leave the Cow as hamburger.

Replay this flight on Doarama!

Ozone Delta 2 SIV: Three stalls, two spirals, and a cravatte - Part 2

... stalls now out of the way, the radio pipes up that we will try a spiral. One of the guides, Chris, had indicated that I am very likely the first Delta 2 that Jocky has had on one of his courses. So I wonder, for briefest of seconds, if Jocky is not only assessing my behavior under instruction, but response of the wing -> one of the reasons for the Delta 2 to be categorized as a 'C' was its post spiral behavior, taking upwards of three full 360s to recover to level flight.

I figured it was a toss up at that point as to who was more intent on how this would turn out.

Thought train interrupted ...

'Hard turn!'

Almost reflexive now, hard weight shift right, right toggle firmly to half brake - a weight shift, brake and dive automaton.

Holding the brake down, the horizon bisects the wing nose to tail.

'And push!'

Bury the brake to near full extension.

Wind rush sharply increases along with increasing pressure sinking me into the harness.

The nose rolls over, the horizon now bisecting wing tip to wing tip, facing me straight down at the lake.

Houston, we have a spiral dive.

'...and ease up.'

Right toggle progressively let up.

'...and ease up.'

Outside brake applied, slowly.

'...and ease up.'

Nose rolls back up, a pair of 360's to bleed off the remaining speed.

The speed with which the spiral built up and the time it took to bleed off reaffirmed my belief that this is a wing to be flown initially with a decent degree of caution.

Another spiral was performed the following flight, and held in longer with a similar outcome.

With some altitude to spare, 90 degree turns. First 90 done without weight shift, the second with. The exercise is to demonstrate behavior in turns with and without a weight shift component.

'Face away from launch', the radio commands.

'...and 90 degree turn to your right...'

'NOW!'

The weight shift, toggle and dive automaton fights back, trying to dissuade a turn without weight shift. The turn becomes unbalanced. Left wingtip collapses, snakes its way into the lines, and re-inflates.

Houston, we have a problem.

'Mark, you have a cravatte, let it bring you around to face the landing.'

Around I go slowly to the left, not wanting to add left brake until I understood how much control I had.

I size up my glide and realize that I might not make the LZ.

Weight shifting to keep the wing aligned with where I want to go, I give a pair of sharp pumps on the brake line to try to free the captive wingtip - to no avail.

A frantic visual search for the green stabilio line,  lost in a sea of verdant hill side.

Thankfully my prior experience with the Buzz Z3 (which shares a similar stablio line placement as the Delta series, on the C riser) made it easy to locate the line on the riser mallions and pull the tip free.

Glide increases and I might just make it.

Since this was an 'emergency', my landing options opened up and I was able to more or less set myself down slowly on a tiny peninsula and kite the wing to drape it over a bush. Feet and wing dry. Success!

Mark: 1, Cravatte: 0

A great day all in all, well, aside from trying steak tartar at dinner - somewhat indifferent on that.

Ozone Delta 2 SIV: Three stalls, two spirals, and a cravatte - Part 1.

Stall/spiral day. The quietest of rides up the mountain. The emotion on the launch amongst students changes from eager anticipation to one of unease. 

Reflection, 'why did I sign up for this?', 'I hope it is blown out and the day is called off'. Hoping to stave off the executioner for one more day.

The launch is clouded in.

Hope!

The launch instructor, Chris, pipes up, breaking the fear driven silence, "Alright lads, get ready quick for when there is a clearin'."

Dread.

Kitted up.

Jocky, down below, chirps on the radio that the winds are picking up in the LZ.

Hope!

... and that we need to be off the hill and in the air quickly.

Dread.

A virtual emotional rollercoaster in the span of five minutes.

As the cloud clears away, wings are sent off in order of ability to handle the ever increasing winds, with myself last.

Through the mist I charge, launch and get word from Chris on the radio that one of the other schools sent off a pilot right on my tail. A repetition of glances over the shoulder confirmed I was pulling away and had little to worry about as I exited the mist.

Left alone to nothing more than the noise of the wind passing by me, I mentally rehearse the slowing of the wing, the locking of arms, the sensation of falling backwards out of a chair, the sudden jolt of the wing re-inflating, and the trashing about as the brakes are smoothly released to then fly off.

Jocky's voice breaks my meditation, 'Mark, face Annecy',  snap off a sharp 90 turn and plane out.

'Now slow the wing down...'

Brakes to min sink.

'...and stall it, stall it, stall it.'

Brakes jammed down, arms locked with a might that only a massive dump of adrenaline could provide.

Falling backwards...

...and falling downwards.

'And smoothly release...'

Easing up the brakes while the trashing mass of shopping bag over my head tries to regain flight on its terms rather than mine, I firmly remind the wing who is the pilot.

Two more times.

A right wing tip tuck, a left wing tip tuck, and a 90 heading change was the only drama to result from the trio of trips into stall land.

The dread has faded into calm, for now.

To be continued...