This column written by
Jim Herd
This column written by
Peter Kelly
It seems that safari's from Minden have gone out of favor in recent years. Many of the senior local pilots and/or their crews have grown wiery of daily uprooting and long distance travelling around the western U.S. This is sad because The Great Basin is a soaring arena far greater than can be explored in any typical out-and-return flight. It is true that Soar Minden (Andrew McFall) conducts the occassional customized safari for a few out-of-towners, but this is the exception and not the rule. So be it, but there is a new wave of highly motivated pilots, some with the luxury of a motor behind them.
Here is some simple geometry. Whenever we take off on a cross country flight, we have the 360 degrees of the compass from which to choose. If we make the flight 'straight out', the next day we have another 360 degrees from which to choose. Thus, the variety of flight paths can be mathematically described as 360 raised to the power of the number of days of the safari. A ten day safari would offer route choices of 360 raised to the power of ten - my calculator doesn't go that high!! The point is that there is a vastly wider array of flight paths and destinations. Such is the background to this tale.
Steve Eddy, Peter Kelly, and Jim Herd (all in DG800B's) decided to embark on two safaris - with no crew at all. The first would be generally North, the second would be generally East. Both turned out to be full of incredible experiences - both in the air and on the ground. For such activities it is key to travel light and remain extremely flexible, based on weather and other unpredictable variables.
Once you learn how to soar, you practice flying as far as possible each time you launch, selecting various places to fly over and then try to get home again before the lift quits. We continually challenge ourselves, routinely pushing the envelope. We do this just to see what we can achieve on any given day. The joy of flying, is to be free of constraints, work with nature, get the most out of the flying machine, and fly as far as possible using only the energy of the sun and the wind.
Rather than just fly out and then return to the same gliderport that same day, why not use the glider to visit other states. Plan on finding rental cars and motels at each overnight location.
During this week in July, three pilots were willing to try it. This is the story of how Jim Herd, Steve Eddy and Peter Kelly planned and accomplished another soaring adventure.
Conditions for the second (5 day) safari were extremely poor the first day (Monday). The general idea was to target Parowan, Utah, and meet up with Ben Barrantine (DG400) for more adventures to the South and East. Each pilot took an hour to leave the MEV area, and after 3 hours no-one was past Mt. Grant (50 miles), so we all turned home. All the pilots required a relight to get home. This was the worst summer soaring day at MEV in a very long time!
Anyway, the second day (Tuesday) seemed little better - after 1 1/2 hours, progress suddenly improved around Mt. Patterson and Bodie Ghost Town. Then it was a relatively easy run to Tonopah by 4 p.m. The problem is that, after Tonopah, there are no motels for at least 3 hours soaring distance - thus Tonopah was the resting place.
The third day (Wednesday) brought more normal soaring conditions and the destination of Parowan, Utah became quite doable. Ben Barrantine was soaring in that area and awaiting our arrival. The problem was a 70 mile wide storm dumping heavy rain and wind all around Parowan. Thus the destination became Richfield, Utah. Since it was now the end of day three, the planned excursion out beyond Parowan into the Wasatch Range (Bryce Canyon and Zion Canyon) became impractical - two days must be reserved to be reasonably sure of getting home. So, the fourth day became a return leg.
We knew Richfield would be ok, since there was a MacDonalds on final approach......
It is a single runway, so we needed assistance to do a 180 turn and get to the ramp and park for the night, thus, Jim was out there taking photos.....
The next morning we waited longer than necessary before launching. You can see the beautiful clouds that were already developing,,,,,
Photos composed by Jim Herd. Click on the image to enlarge.
This day (Thursday) turned out to be astonishing! Richfield, Utah, to Lincoln, Nevada, to Austin, Nevada, to Minden. Roughly 750 km. in 6 hours - dodging storms and virga and restricted airspace, but flying very fast and mostly between 15,000 feet and 17,500 feet. Again, this safari required no relights (ignoring that first aborted day), and total distance was around 1500 km.
All of this doesn't describe the incredible hospitality enjoyed at every single destination. Each was very different, and that was a major part of the attraction and the joy. It was truly the joy of the unknown and not the fear of the unknown. With a little sensible planning, like carrying tie-down ropes, a few tools, and a solar charger, barriers like getting a room and a car were a non-issue. And the whole escapade was incredibly inexpensive.
On Monday, we were more than optimistic. We eagerly prepared the ourselves for departure from Minden, Nevada, and we were feeling confident we could make it to Utah, maybe even Colorado on the first day, since the forecast was calling for a record heat wave. There was an upper level high dominating the entire western half of the United States. However, we were soon to find out that the system would not produce record type soaring conditions until later in the week.
We launched, along with Bob Huppe in a DG808, and Dave Bingham in a Stemme. They had decided to join us on the safari, at least as far as Tonopah or Parowan.
After two or three hours of struggling, Bob and Dave had reached Mt Grant, while the other three of us were well behind. The lift seemed to be getting weaker rather than stronger as the afternoon progressed, and all five of us did "virtual landouts" at various locations, using our built in motors to accomplish relights and get us back to Minden. The day was an failure!
On tuesday, the three of us were on our own. Neither Dave nor Bob elected to join us, for various reasons. We launched, in our DG800B's, but took high tows (self launching tows) to get out of the Carson Valley. Few, if any of the gliders were getting away. Seven or eight thousand seemed to be the maximum altitude achievable in the various gaggles that were milling around the valley, with no one getting high enough to get to the Pine Nut Mountain Range. At the top of the "1980's burn area" we found strong lift, taking us up to 10,000 feet, and we were on our way - over the top of Mt Patterson, then on to Mina.
There was lift to 17,000 feet, with Jim leading the way. The three of us arrived in the Tonopah area about the same time, and we landed on the large concrete apron, securing the ships for the night along side of several glider trailers that were already in position, awaiting the start of the 15 Meter National Competition that was to be held the following week. It hadn't been a long flight, but, since there are no airports with towns where we could stay overnight between Tonopah and Parowan, we decided to land early.
As usual on our safari adventures, we found the hospitality outstanding. Mike at the Tonopah Airport Ops arranged for transportation, and hotel accommodations. Steve, a member of the family that operates both the Best Western and the Silver Queen Motels, picked us up in a courtesy van, and we soon found ourselves settled for the night. The next morning, Steve again picked us up from the door of the motel, and transported us back to our flying machines.
Here we are getting ready for departure from Tonopah....
Photo composed by Jim Herd. Click on the image to enlarge.
We were in the air by noon (Wednesday) and on our way to Parowan, or so we thought. The lift was even stronger than Tuesday, and we were soon approaching the area west of Cedar City and Parowan. Ben B was visiting Parowan from Wickenberg, AZ for the week and he had launched out of Parowan to meet us. He advised us even before we could see the effects of it, that a thunderstorm was overhead Parowan and that it would be quite some time before conditions on the ground would improve enough to permit a safe landing at Parowan.
Steve was now in the lead, and he headed northward, which was about the only option available to us at the time. We discussed it on the Two Meter Ham Radio, and all agreed it might be best to head towards Ridgefield Utah, which was about half the distance to Provo, Utah. We knew from the materials we had on board (extracts of the AOPA Airport Directory), that the field and the overnight accommodations at Richfield would meet our needs. We all made it in ok.
Sure enough, Ken and his wife Roeann, the airport managers presented us with the type of outstanding hospitality we were beginning to take for granted on these safaris. We received the keys to a courtesy car, along with recommendations for motels and places to eat. Ben B, flying a DG-400, had also diverted to Ridgefield, due to the unlandable conditions at Parowan, and he joined us for a pleasant evening.
Thursday morning the weather looked promising. More thunderstorms were forecast to develop in Arizona and New Mexico, but there was no mention of storms across Nevada. Could this be the day for a record flight? We were soon to find out.
Ben launched first and headed back to Parowan, then the three of us headed west. At first, we took up a course line for Tonopah, but by the time we were 100 miles out (about half way to Tonopah), it was apparent that the weather was clobbering the Tonopah area. The clouds were overdeveloping with virga below them as we approached, killing the lift, and causing rain and high winds in the landing area. Ely was obviously open, as we could see a nice line of clouds going straight north in that direction, but it was early. We had been making good time. Why not head towards Duckwater? It was further west and not as much to the north. In short order we crossed Duckwater, and Austin looked to be the next target, We had been cruising between 15 and 18,000 feet, with only an occasional stop to climb in an eight to ten knot thermal. Soaring conditions were exceptional. As we approached Austin, NV, Steve, who had been leading since the start of the flight, attempted to jump a 15 mile gap west of Austin, only to be driven nearly into the ground by mother nature. Peter, circumnavigated that sink hole and took the lead, but it was short lived. Setting a course line directly to Minden, less than 150 miles away, progress westward was halted quickly. Only 15 miles west of Austin, we could see the heavy virga ahead. With the Fallon restricted area to the northwest, and large storms to the south, our options were narrowed to only one choice. TURN RIGHT 90 degrees, and go north around the restricted areas.
We found good lift enroute to Lovelock, NV, and Steve and Peter paralleled I-80 on the North side. Jim, who had been several miles behind, chose to fly west along the south side of I-80, following wispy clouds that indicated a line of convergence. Even before we reached Fernley, almost 400 miles after takeoff, all three of us were now virtually abeam of each other.
