Snowball Report: Chamonix, Aug. 28 & 29

Nice airline flight. Economy Plus a good idea. Bring own drinks and food and metamucil & suppositories too, next time. Did not sleep enough. Saw Sharky and Duck & Duck's wife on the plane and began chatting them up inbound to Geneva. Geneva immigration line quite slow. Skipped the airport shower (a bad idea, if you ask me -- next time will insist). Took a couple hours to sort out the van. One the size of a Subaru was not what was intended.

On the road we admired the roadway and most especially the surrounding scenery: hill top farms, castle houses, and especially very flyable sites. We stopped at the autobahn truckstop restaurant shown on our map. Thank goodness for that. Very good paella. French bread of course could be the best thing about France. That is nothing bad about France. The bread here is just darn good.

Got to Chamonix. We were obviously travel thrash stoned by this time. Thank god Mad Dog had a radio on. After three tries, on foot using directions of the information desk, I located the property management office renting me a room. Renting sheets and towels was a surprise, however, I remember thinking "don't forget your towel (you wanna get high?)" as I packed the day before, a couple days before. The bag full of towels and sheets for my roommates and me promptly broke, of course. I staggered into the Super U and got a bit of bread and a bottle of dark wine and continued staggering back up the hill. Once at the Brevant, I learned that the manager's map was quite incorrect, to the surprise of a few residents that were where I was supposed to be, according to her dyslexic directions. Mad Dog's wife rescued me from my mentally compromised dilemma and we finally found the place. That explains her halo. It is quite nice if a bit small for three guys. I glanced at the mirror and learned why people in town looked at me like they did. I looked like a Visine commercial.

Before passing out, Mad Dog showed me the LZ. Excellent bread, delicious wine, stolen toilet paper, very hot bath, and a ten hour nap.

The next morning the Flying Monkeys gathered and went up the lift. I took a few pictures and began laying out. " I am first" declared a tandem. No worries. Dog and Duck and Sharky caught up and I launched out already at cloud base. The house thermal around the corner just East of the lift was working quite well. I cored it with a couple of tandems at about the same altitude, cranking and banking into the clouds, breaking off to not lose ground references and then back again into the clouds. The scenery was magnificent. My normal flying gloves were a bad idea and I decided to head to the LZ before losing my fingers lost feeling. 33 minutes was all my fingers could stand. Too bad. The flying was most excellent.

That afternoon we went down valley to another site, now with Sidehill and Don & wives. Working out of the launch area was a lot of work. Topography, trees, the other gliders, seeds in the air and Mad Dog's teasing from cloud base helped. I worked my way West along the slope as altitude allowed. Being stuck in a tall tree is not on my agenda. Making 5000 feet was a relief and I pushed myself to stay there. Once I got to the giant rock slides and cliff faces, though, it got much easier. Near the top of the cliffs an eagle screamed at me. I glanced down and saw 7001 on my altimeter. Bitchin. Looking out at the panorama was very cool. Truly magnificent. I decided to cross the valley. That turned out to be a good way to get down. Nothing was working over there. Spending the last twenty minutes or so 600 feet over the LZ back on the North side enjoying goat farts in warm air was a treat. Enjoying frosty beverages with the rest of the Fallen Angels was even more satisfying.

Dinner of hamburger paninis was a hit. Duck's successful 14 year marriage was delight as well. If I had a non-mental cutie here with me so that Riley could be here too my happiness would be complete. He would be in heaven. Duck is a smart one: corner unit, flymaster vs flytech... Generous, too: Sharky's beer and hamburger panini.

I woke up a couple of times, but this was a morning when ten hours of sleep was delicious. I'm going to put in some wash, shit shower shave, get some breakfast and my mail and then go avail myself of more invisible playgrounds.

Aloha Nui Loa,

John, aka whatever is French for "Frosty Balls", being the only pilot with enough sense to fly wearing shorts