It's April - Hurricane Season!

Looking over the back to the east.

The usual crew headed south, even though the forecast didn't look great. When we arrived in Hurricane Utah Friday morning, we were excited to see the wind trickling in from the right direction. The updated weather prediction called for - building throughout the day from the west. It was refreshing just to be down south in the warmer temps. We headed for the top and were greeted there by a couple of Colorado pilots eager as we were to shake off the winter dust. As we set up, the wind was a consistent 18 to 20 mph straight in. We all launched safely and were soon cruising down toward the south . Four miles out on the ridge, the lift remained constant. I was soon joined by Cody, as we both cored up in one of the stronger thermals of the day. Greg joined in below us and threatened to overtake Cody and I with his super climb rate - didn't happen! We topped out at three grand over launch, and flew a bit further south. After a few hours and many more great thermals, most of us landed in the LZ below launch. Cody opted to land on top and retrieve our vehicle, saving us a drive back to the top.


A view to the north, Hurricane in the distance.


The LZ, and the northern section of the ridge.

Lo-Fi Video Clip Your Sure To Love

Here's another lo-fi vid clip, this from last Friday. Most of the SLC crew was out for some great flying thanks to Moma S.


Jerry, a pilot from over yonder (Tooele), Kept making low, literal head level passes. Finally I pulled out my camera phone and recorded the deed.

Most everyone got plenty of airtime, as the wind continued it's strength late into the afternoon.

Zoe in Distress

A funny vid I made while at Peak patrol shack this winter. Zoe is an avalanche dog, and part of our team. We were basically with her on a daily basis, and at times she drove us nuts! So every now and then we turned it around and had a little fun with her.

Epic South Side Day Provokes Thermic War

This morning fellow hang gliding friend Greg Billow and I hatched a plan to escape work and fly the South Side of the Point. We arrived early to take advantage of the sweet morning air. The first flight of what became a multitude of heart stopping and harrowing sorties was somewhat smooth, but in the air was embedded a hint of the thrashing about that was to come.


After an hour or so and a plethora of high speed strafing runs at only inches above the knife-like ridge top, it was obvious Greg had a competitive itch to scratch. The battle was on! For the next few hours Greg and I commanded the ridge top like two flying aces of days gone by. The thermals only strengthened with time, and at the apex of the early afternoon the air was a boiling cauldron of spring convection. Climbing, banking, diving in the vertically bound columns of air, we fought it out like comrades, friends - like brothers.





Afterwards, crazed and shell-shocked from the airborne battle, Greg decides to take up paragliding. Seen here at his first lesson at Cloud Nine.