| As sand through an hourglass slowly, we crawled
along the public works project known as the Chicago Expensiveway System. A
forecast of strong, soarable conditions lured us eastward towards
Indiana's Mount Baldy, a 170 foot high pile of sand that, in a north wind,
can allow paraglider soaring. It was to be Tim's first flirt with free
flight.
After getting our passes from the office (you have to show your USHGA
card) we headed for the hill.
Parking is behind the big dune and a quick glance at nearby tree limbs
was distinctly disturbing -- they were barely moving. Not a good sign. We
were hoping for the forecast 15. Maybe the wind shadow is really strong
here, we thought optimistically.
At first we weren't even going to schlep our gear up but then I
figured, after putting up with all that traffic, doggonit, I was going to
fly this dune! I schlepped.
Climbing up steep soft sand is like going up the down escalator. With
your luggage. It's an effort in patience, put one foot up, step up, slide
down, step up, slide down but slowly inch your way to the top. Do this
while carrying your luggage. Whew!
Finally cresting the top, it was immediately clear that indeed the
trees below were right: there was barely any wind. Oh boy. We rested.
I pulled Spiceley (my paraglider) out of her bag. I had to spread it
out in order to inflate. That's bad; normally at this site all you have to
do is expose one open cell and the wind yanks it out. Not today. Worse
yet, inflating required running backwards. This was a soaring non-starter.
Not only would there be no soaring, but if I did fly, I'd have to actually
carry the wing back up the hill. Yuck. Normally, you just kite it
back up.
But did I mention the 4-hours of traffic? The climb to the top? There
was no way in God's brown sand that I was going to come all this way and
not free-fly this silly little dune!
So I clipped into my mountain climbing harness (can't wait to get my
lightweight paragliding harness), brought the wing up, turned around and
started to run. Full speed it took with strides gradually lengthening
until finally I was able to skim all the way to the bottom, relishing
flight, to be sure, but dreading the coming hike back up.
A by-sitter (there were bystanders but they playing in the water)
hollered at me "cool! can you get a little higher next time?"
Why I oughtta...
I gathered up the wing and mustered enough energy to actually do it one
more time from a slightly steeper slope that was more directly into the 2
mph wind. Yeah, that'll help. It did -- that flight (2nd picture) lasted
probably twice as long (12 seconds) and got me a good 4 feet high. Can I
log this stuff?
The idea of motoring was sounding right nice about now. After one last
trudge to the top and resting for a bit, Tim and I decided it was time to
embark on part 2 of our little jaunt and go lookin' for launch.
The Find
We had no idea where we would go and just headed southwest. Tim had his
GPS which was great for knowing what any green road sign tells you. And I,
the consummate geek, had my computer. I also had internet access through
my cell phone. Then it came to me, Google Earth! So, sitting there in the
right seat with my phone feeding google's gorgeous planet program, I
zoomed in on our location and started scouting for launch.
"OK, where are we now?"
Tim looked at the GPS. "coming up on County Rd N 500."
"I found it, perfect, turn right, this is perfect!"
Sure enough, less than a mile down that road was an expansive
development with nothing but roads and nothing but mowed grass. Yes!
That made for a wonderful launch location and we headed out for an
hour-long romp through northern Indiana. It was wonderful, as always. I
practiced landing and relaunching without resetting the wing since that is
what I was supposed to be doing in England this week, among other things.
Smooth and calm, just the way we like it.
Tim landed first, much to the enjoyment of some gathered
onlookers. He radio'd me to do a spot landing and put my wing bag out in
the middle of the road. I now have a hole in my wing bag. Alright, so next
time we pick a different target! |
Twelve thousand calories burned for 18
seconds of flight time. That can be the trip for a free-flight pilot.
This local was caught chuckling at my
expense. I got the last laugh, though, when I saw him flying around the
same hill - flapping. No soaring for him either! And soon I would be
strapping on my own power.
After all that effort it was good to relax.
Above photos by Tim Kaiser.
Go, go go!
He went better than I went.
Our launch site.
Greenskeeper.
I think this should be a required position for any PPG flying site.
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