Owen's Valley (part 2)

THE CROSSING


Three hours and fifteen minutes after launching from Walts Point I'm crossing the valley, and at nineteen thousand a.s.l. I'm feeling the effects of the altitude. Typically its a good idea to fly with a supplemental oxygen system, however the soaring index for the day predicted moderate thermal ceilings, so I opted to conserve weight and fly without the O2. The good thing in this situation is there's an equal amount of sink verses lift, once you leave the thermal. Even though my time spent above fourteen thousand while ringing out this thermal was less than fifteen minutes, the oxygen depleted atmosphere left me minus a few brain cells. One very obvious indicator of the lack of O2 was looking at my altimeter and finding it difficult to interpret. However, as I descended to lower altitudes I found my self feeling somewhat normal except for a tinge of nausea. Probably the most defining moment as a hang glider pilot was being there in the middle of the Owens Valley. In every direction visibility was a hundred miles. The valleys endless green fields like squares on a quilt turn to pastels as valley gives way to alluvial fans, and the majestic mountains rise like silent sentinels of time.


Halfway across the valley, I realize making it to the other side is going to be close. Not a single thermal encountered so far, only smooth consistent sink. There's the imminent possibility of running out of altitude and I begin scanning the valley floor for a place to land. From above many of the pastures and fields look great for landing the glider, but a closer look reveals fences, power lines and other hard to see obstacles that would make an approach rather tricky. Luckily, with less than five hundred feet of altitude, the glider arrives on the lower flanks of the White Mountains, and with a sigh of relief I bank gently into the first lift since leaving the Sierras.