Saturday, March 15, 2008

Owen's Valley (part 1)

40 miles out there's a great place to cross the Owens Valley. A 2000 foot cinder cone serves as a consistent thermal generator that allows a pilot to climb out as high as possible before making the 20 mile glide across the valley to the Inyos. Disattached from the whitish gray granite spires of the Sierra Range, the reddish brown formation appears man made and out of place. It was above this extinct volcanic formation I achieved my highest ever altitude gain.

That morning Bob and I rose after spending the night in one of Lone Pines quaint and rustic hotels. The room wasn't much to speak of, rather ordinary and simple. The Hotel was probably built at the turn of the 20th century and remodeled dozens of times. The freshly laid white paint on the walls could hardly hide the decades old cracks and repaired holes in the plaster. Old metal frame twin beds with creaky springs and soft mattresses, made for an amazingly restful nights sleep. We hurried about the small room that morning gathering our things in anticipation of the days activities. The oak plank floor of our room squeaked and popped as we ferried our gear to the front door of the hotel, and as we emerged into the morning sunlight the Owens Valley welcomed us with the most glorious views of the Sierras. The distant irrigated barley fields mingeled with juniper and pine to create an unforgettable fragrance.

By nine o'clock we had made the 20 mile drive from Lone Pine to Walts Point. An overlook located on the west side of the Owens Valley, nestled above an enormous canyon at the start of the great Sierra Range. Looking east from the 3000 foot launch, one can gaze beyond the Inyos on the other side of the Owens Valley and view the Panamint Mountains and Telescope Peak. On a routinely clear day, look north a hundred miles and make out the faintly reddish outline of Boundary Peak on the California Nevada border.

By ten o'clock there were over twenty gliders at the Walts Point launch. Everyone was busy about the task of setting up gliders and preparing for some of the most demanding and incredible flying found anywhere in the world. July is the best month for cross country soaring conditions in the Owens Valley. The connective forces that develop during the middle of the summer can generate columns of vertical air currents called thermals, that will propel a glider upwards in excess of 2000 feet per minute. On a marginal day, thermals will reach heights over 15,000 feet. A great day may produce greater than 20,000 foot tops. Pilots routinely fly from Walts Point Northward into Nevada with fights exceeding 200 miles.

By ten thirty several gliders had launched and were barely maintaining launch altitude. A few more gliders launched only to find sinking air and a one way ticket to the LZ three thousand feet below. Carving tight little circles , while banking as shallow as possible is a prerequisite for staying up in the mid mornings scratchy lift. Sometimes the thermals are so slight only your vertical speed indicator (variometer) can detect it. A short low pitched beep from the vario indicates fifty feet per minute up or so. The higher and more frequent the beeps, the stronger the lift. Sometimes the smell of the vegetation below and a change in air temperature can accompany a hearty thermal. The first big thermal of the day moved up the massive canyon below and within minutes the gliders out front were mere specks in the blackish blue skies above. A mad dash ensued and within half an hour the set up area at launch was emptied.

"Bob do you have a copy?" "I'm passing through ten five and averaging a thousand up". "Copy Bruce, I've got a visual on you. Think you'll be leaving the hill soon?" " I'll try to squeeze some more altitude out of this thermal then head north." "Copy that. Let me know and I'll start down the hill as soon as you head out." Earlier that morning, given the predicted strong conditions and his limited experience, Bob decided he would scrap the idea of flying for the day and resign to be my personal chase crew.

Another few minutes later I was pushing twelve thousand feet and feeling comfortable about leaving the launch area. The thermal persisted and at twelve five I cut loose and headed north. "Bob this is Bruce . Do you copy?" "Go ahead Bruce". "I'm at twelve five and heading north. Go for Lone Pine. I'll radio you next chance I get." An unimaginable landscape laid before me. As far as the eye could see, emerald green lakes and melt water ponds dotted the mountain terrain. Snow covered peaks and glaciers appeared as brilliant white caps and blankets in the mid days sun. As my glide took me down range I could make out several small towns, Independence and further north Big Pines. I looked down at my flight deck and noticed my altitude was getting close to ninety five hundred. Time to start searching for lift! No sooner did I think that, when a solid nudge hit my wing. I gently banked my glider to the left and my Vario began singing. Pushing out and slowing down a bit to take full advantage of the thermals lifting power I began circling in the massive column of rising air, and within minutes I was passing through thirteen, fourteen and finally toping out with this thermal at fourteen five.

The Sierra range is a spectacular formation. Relatively young, in geological terms, this mountain Range is a massive granatic uplift. Its sharp spires and massive monolithic slabs haven't succumb to the ravages of erosion of yet. Like most mountain ranges the Sierras consist of peaks, valleys and canyons that have been gouged out over the eons by wind, ice, water and glacial movement. The result in the Sierras has exposed massive slabs of granite, typically found on the south face of most canyons. These slabs are great for thermal production because of their optimal orientation to the sun. On a cross country flight, one of the major strategies is to take advantage of these south facing thermal producers.

On this particular flight, the predetermined plan is, launch at Walts Point, fly 60 miles north along the Sierras, cross the Owens Valley at bishop. Use the prevailing westerlys blowing up the west facing Inyos for another 40 miles and land just past Boundary peak in Nevada for a 104 mile flight. So far the plan was working out, and after three hours of some of the easiest cross country flying, success was iminent for a personal best flight. In the distance Bishop looks like a spawling city compared to the smaller towns along the flight path, and just ahead is the cinder cone, described by other pilots as the best location for crossing the valley. After topping out in my last thermal, I'm within gliding range and arrive over this barren cauldron at eleven thousand five hundred feet a.s.l.. Immediately after arriving, I fly into a vertical flowing maelstrom. My Vario is pegged, it's meager chirping is trying its best to register one of the strongest thermals I've ever been in. Within minutes I pass fourteen - fifteen and at sixteen thousand this monster is only getting stronger. My altimeter needles are winding past seventeen thousand as I begin flying a straight line east toward the other side of the valley and hopefully out of this lift.

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