tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12113257326784515842024-02-07T08:01:07.901+02:00Monkeys in ChamonixUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-34979398717410264912010-10-15T23:21:00.003+03:002012-10-22T22:55:47.244+03:00La GalerieTwo dozen Hawaii pilots and spouses migrated to the French and Swiss alps for a few recent weeks to inflict their airborne simian hijinx on the peace-loving peoples of the Haute Savoie. Their mischief and misdeeds are hereby chronicled in digital form for posterity, or at least for anyone thinking about going on next year's trip. Because we are definitely going back. (If any of you monkeys are holding out on us, please cough up the goods. We want all the photos and videos, even the NSFW stuff!)<br />
<br />
<table><tbody>
<tr> <td>Alex<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/flykahana/sets/72157624927203936/show/"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4090/4978134514_9c0689e21a_t.jpg" /></a></td> <td>Pete & Bonnie<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/13593329@N00/sets/72157624954894001/show/"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4087/5043942756_a203a89175_t.jpg" /></a></td> <td>Sharky<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/esharky808#%21/album.php?aid=6103&id=1360275207"><img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs312.ash2/59263_1598569648383_1360275207_1583282_2234696_s.jpg" width="100" /></a></td> <td>Berndt<br />
<a href="http://s556.photobucket.com/albums/ss1/puka_wai/Chamonix/?albumview=slideshow"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss1/puka_wai/Chamonix/th_OverTheCastle-1200.jpg" width="100" /></a></td> <td>Nikki<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22527841@N00/sets/72157624854790995/show/"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4088/5000013741_eda2e6413f_t.jpg" /></a></td>
</tr>
<tr> <td>Duck: Vid 1<br />
<a href="http://gallery.me.com/hauula001#100855"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUw-4d434sMeTJB-txgfpqurq2TSM0bbo3EhbVCNtt2ZRsr1uHkvVKvHTdc16crfq3Swmq-O692hTAaj3qGK7qsOQTJO1IqiEsUMbPohg9Jr3jRYAQXSyzANMuOf3gnfCWwU4_g4Yzcu4/" /></a></td> <td>Duck: Vid 2<br />
<a href="http://gallery.me.com/hauula001#100857"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs-dz9c6O6OZfr5O3ciWVN3Pm4gP0AZfN9bzBNBHEBJowpOegz2tXR7C8S6DeW67HAQ6WmoXUdR94ket1yAOyXMvdBUV88QMQjmFlu6D6iQbIDicf_l-axduDLY_5kR5uElqMM11SEaY/" /></a></td><td>Duck: Vid 3<br />
<a href="http://gallery.me.com/hauula001#100875"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDDX6mKqWCehDe3YH4KSxWUxvrvdsabzQrr0Jo-AE6B-LMeJsZ7QxB7S7KW7LQtxWdHUCPGhD8etbzkh4l-XDOm9-DochWBdkjUmotMuaGV_P989eHug9wpKUA7pXumfqgtTGBOMKdmI/s128/duckvid3.jpg" /></a></td><td>Duck: Vid 4<a href="http://gallery.me.com/hauula001#100901"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrtosEkZc6eNX__wQ2xxr8rGC-sIKmdcLQKWokH_aMjjpjvnTRmwtWfGExXfTKuDNS4CsZWeluS7E01t63Q3TMSBAfjg6QEzvghcK0RQ9h6zMZ3JvDkxAsPIsdOTsbdj398Hs9yujngQ/" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td>Ryan<br />
<a href="http://cmd.shutterfly.com/commands/pictures/slideshow?site=ryankoss&page=ryankoss/pictures&album=26"><img height="75" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47a0d701b3127cce98548aa4b0ed00000038100AbuHDFq4bNWfg" width="100" /></a></td> <td>Mad Dog: Vids<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mad_dog_hawaii/sets/72157624859397843/show/"><img height="75" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4146/5000537787_46ee199226_m.jpg" width="100" /></a></td> <td>Mad Dog: Pics<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mad_dog_hawaii/sets/72157624882297301/show/"><img height="75" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4124/5008559715_226b1ae4cf_t.jpg" width="100" /></a></td> </tr>
</tbody></table>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-69849061175365201142010-10-14T05:10:00.003+03:002010-10-19T05:25:33.177+03:00Invisible Playgrounds of Chamonix<div>A good editor would probably wring my neck, but here goes... One of the logs from one of the twenty or so monkeys on the Chamonix 2010 paragliding expedition:</div><div><a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div>Chamonix Log</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day one-- We're in Switzerland!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Nice flight. Economy Plus a good idea. Bring own drinks and food and</div><div>metamucil & suppositories, too next time. Did not sleep enough. Saw</div><div>Sharkey and Duck & Duck's wife on the plane and began chatting them up</div><div>inbound to Geneva.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Geneva immigration line quite slow. Skipped the airport shower (a bad</div><div>idea, if you ask me-- next time will insist). Took a couple hours to</div><div>sort out the van. One the size of a Subaru was not what was intended.</div><div><br />
</div><div>On the road we admired the roadway and most especially the surrounding</div><div>scenery: hill top farms, castle houses, and especially very flyable</div><div>sites. We stopped at the autobahn truckstop restaurant shown on our</div><div>map. Thank goodness for that. Very good paella. French bread of</div><div>course could be the best thing about France. That is nothing bad</div><div>about France. The bread here is just darn good.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Got to Chamonix. We were obviously travel thrash stoned by this time.</div><div>Thank god Mad Dog had a radio on. After three tries, on foot using</div><div>directions of the information desk, I located the property mangagement</div><div>office renting me a room. Renting sheets and towels was a surprise,</div><div>however, I remember thinking "don't forget your towel (you wanna get</div><div>high?)" as a packed the day before, a couple days before. The bag</div><div>full of towels and sheets for my roommates and me promptly broke, of</div><div>course. I stagggered into the Super U and got a bit of bread and a</div><div>bottle of dark wine and continued staggering back up the hill. Once</div><div>at the Brevant, I learned that the manager's map was quite incorrect,</div><div>to the surprise a few residents that were where I was supposed to be</div><div>according to her dislexic directions. Mad Dog's wife rescued me from</div><div>my mentally compromised dilemna and we finally found the place. That</div><div>explains her halo. It is quite nice if a bit small for three guys. I</div><div>glanced at the mirror and learned why people in town looked at me like</div><div>they did. I looked like a Visine commercial.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Before passing out, Mad Dog showed me the LZ. Excellent bread,</div><div>delicious wine, stolen toilet paper, very hot bath, and a ten hour</div><div>nap.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Two-- Invisible Playgrounds</div><div><br />
</div><div>The next morning the Flying Monkeys gathered and went up the lift. I</div><div>took a few pictures and began laying out. " I am first" declared a</div><div>tandem. No worries. Dog and Duck and Sharkey caught up and I</div><div>launched out already at cloud base. The house thermal around the</div><div>corner just East of the lift was working quite well. I cored it with</div><div>a couple of tandems at about the same altitude, cranking and banking</div><div>into the clouds, breaking off to not lose ground references and then</div><div>back again into the clouds. The scenery was magnificant. My normal</div><div>flying gloves were a bad idea and I decided to head to the LZ before</div><div>my fingers lost feeling. 33 minutes was all my fingers could stand. Too bad.</div><div>The flying was most excellent.</div><div><br />
</div><div>That afternoon we went down valley to another site, now with Sidehill</div><div>and Don & wives. Working out of the launch area was a lot of work.</div><div>Topography, trees, the other gliders, seeds in the air and Mad Dog's</div><div>teasing from cloud base helped. I worked my way West along the slope</div><div>as altitude allowed. Being stuck in a tall tree is not on my agenda.</div><div>Making 5000 feet was a relief and I pushed myself to stay there.</div><div>Once I got to the giant rock slides and cliff faces, it got</div><div>much easier. Near the top of the cliffs an eagle screamed at me. I</div><div>glanced down and saw 7001 on my altimeter. Bitchin indeed. Looking out at</div><div>the panorama was very cool. Truly magnificant. I decided to cross</div><div>the valley. That turned out to be a good way to get down. Nothing</div><div>was working over there. Spending the last twenty minutes or so 600</div><div>feet over the LZ back on the North side enjoying goat farts in warm</div><div>air was a treat. Enjoying frosty beverages with the rest of the</div><div>Fallen Angels was even more satisfying.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Dinner of hamburger panini's was a hit. Duck's successful 14 year</div><div>marriage was delight as well. If I had a non-mental cutie here with</div><div>me so that Riley could be here too my happiness would be complete.</div><div>He would be in heaven. Duck is a smart one: corner unit, flymaster</div><div>vs flytech... Generous, too: Sharkey's beer and hamburger panini.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I woke up a couple of times, but this was a morning when ten hours of</div><div>sleep was delicious. I'm going to put in some wash, shit shower</div><div>shave, get some breakfast and my mail and then go avail myself of more</div><div>invisible playgrounds.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Aloha Nui Loa,</div><div><br />
</div><div>John aka whatever French is for "Frosty Balls", being the only pilot</div><div>with enough sense to fly wearing shorts</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Three-- Snow Monkeys</div><div><br />
</div><div>No flying today. High clouds heading south with waves in them came lower, I guess, and messed everything up after morning raininess down low.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Bought a serious ski jacket-- for 29 euro. Also some glove liners and expedition quality socks. I then immediately put them to very good use.</div><div><br />
</div><div>We all went up the highest gondola in the world. It was spectacular. I kept saying "wow!". It was very foggy and the precipitous drop-offs went into cloudy nothingnesss. Just after disembarking at the top, we walked accross a bridge surrounded by fog and then into caves. Sharkey and I found some beers, cold of course, and then proceeded to view points surrounded by that spectacular cloudy nothingness, with momentary breaks in the clouds revealing other view points, the summit, and little groups of cramponed and leashed together hikers far below. I made my first snow angel in years. Wonder where all the nude pictures will someday show up? We saw a group of hikers depart from one of the caves onto an ice causeway path a couple of feet thick with thousand foot drop-offs on both sides. Not sure about that-- you couldn't see the bottom either way. We saw another group of three come in. Wonder how they passed each other?</div><div><br />
</div><div>My roomie Larry showed up and I got him oriented.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Four-- Plain Jew Goat Farts</div><div><br />
</div><div>Began the day freezing whilst internetting then followed Larry up the</div><div>lift for a sled ride. Ran back up the hill and launched into more</div><div>thermic conditions and followed Mad Dog and Doug and Side Hill over to</div><div>the launch from a couple days before. I was a few hundred feet under</div><div>them and instead of bee-lining, crossed the valley to the north and</div><div>worked the face over there. I begged and it gave me a couple hundred</div><div>feet and change. I overflew some farms and that little lake to the</div><div>east of launch. The other monkeys all top landed. Radio traffic</div><div>contained the "B" word. And then I got there about 200 feet MSL</div><div>short, maybe less. I went down the hill kicking and screaming and</div><div>scratching. Finally, already resigned to drinking beer all by my poor</div><div>lonely self whoah wiz me and less than 500 feet above where a bunch of</div><div>goats were spotted a couple days before and imagining I could still</div><div>smell them, I hooked in :) It took me almost back up to launch and in</div><div>short order I hooked another that took me above and to the west of</div><div>launch. "Where should I land?" "Not in the trees!" is something</div><div>like how it went. After top landing we all had a most excellent lunch. Reaper and</div><div>Bon Bon joined us. I launched again and cavorted some more on the</div><div>slope for a while before hearing Duck state that six pilots were at</div><div>launch. They must be packing up to go home, I figured, so I landed</div><div>again. Leery of rotor, my approach was a bit high and I pulled ears</div><div>to make it a nice steep one. The log fence around launch drew</div><div>ominously close to my glide slope. I popped open the wing and flared</div><div>but air did not cooperate entirely and apparently the result was</div><div>dramatic. Oh well. Duck was at launch and my kamikaze approach was</div><div>wasted. I relaunched to go sniff goats some more.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Pau flight I got to drive up with Carson, our new German friend from</div><div>Munich, and Reaper to get Carson to launch and us to our cars. Carson's car was big van. Little French cars got out of my way on the way back down. The horn did not</div><div>work, but Reaper and I had radio contact and that is more fun anyway.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The evening repast was all about cheese. Duck's wife had been</div><div>mountaineering and so we all actually took a van down and up the hill.</div><div>If you park halfway onto the sidewalk "the man" thinks you are local,</div><div>Duck figured. Sharkey got his cheese, Andrew took many excellent</div><div>pictures, and we met some Formula One roadies. Exhaustion set in and we could have slept</div><div>right there at the table.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Five-- Mauna Kea Shrubbery and Annecy Ridge Lift</div><div><br />
</div><div>The day began for me running around town looking for software</div><div>downloads so I could talk to Riley and a desiccant pad for my camera</div><div>so it would not fog at altitude. Stopping by the Super U, I ran into</div><div>Reaper and Berndt and so found those other two things. Reaper and Bon</div><div>Bon had over-nighted at a nice little B&B on the south side of the</div><div>river. The B&B had been a mill and so was perched right over the river.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I booked up the hill and caught up with more new arrivals at the west launch</div><div>including our very own King of Kahana and Nikki. I followed Mad Dog</div><div>out along the north wall at lower altitude than the day before.</div><div>There is a charming launch out that way which demanded top landing</div><div>consideration, but with not even a leaf shudder, I over-flew it and</div><div>headed back to more familiar LZ's. My look cost a couple hundred feet</div><div>and my glide was not going to get me home. I called my position.</div><div>Duck was nice enough to advise that valley winds were now going up</div><div>valley. The nice green grassy park that I chose for a forced landing had more downhill than I thought at first and tree height turned out to be too high. Penetration was</div><div>great, although 20 knots of ground speed is not really what I felt</div><div>like the situation demanded. At low level I crossed the street into</div><div>another grassy area, doing what I could to get down and slow down.</div><div>About that time I began looking for something soft to run into. The</div><div>upwind obstacles looked abrupt. Houses are abrupt. Downwind contained an inviting hedge.</div><div>"Come to me, Frosty, come to me. Yes, that's it-- object fixate on</div><div>me. You love me." Whatever. Downwind also gave me more lawn to</div><div>touch down. I tried and did-- and then slid right into the welcoming</div><div>embrace of the bushes. My wing went over the top because it likes</div><div>cherry trees more than hedges, obviously. A couple little boys</div><div>upslope laughed at me in French and then declared how cool they</div><div>thought the whole thing was in English and asked me to do it again,</div><div>please. Then they offered to help, guided me though some tunnels in</div><div>the hedges and then scampered up into the cherry tree. A neighbor</div><div>lady told me it wasn't the first time and found a couple of long pieces</div><div>of molding. The cute nanny came out with a swaddler. I went up the</div><div>tree. George and his little brother's parental units Peter and Leslie</div><div>arrived home from mountain climbing on Mont Blanc and took pictures of</div><div>the monkey in their tree. George even climbed back up into the tree for</div><div>the photo shoot. Leslie turned out to have lived at Black Point, her brother</div><div>had taught at Punahoe and their house that I landed at was named "Villa</div><div>Mauna Kea". What are the chances? She offered me a glass of rose.</div><div>Peter and I enjoyed frosty beverages. They insisted that I arrive</div><div>back at their place at 6 PM on Saturday with as many pilots from</div><div>Hawaii as possible and they would buy all the beer. I asked about</div><div>trying that LZ again and they figured that as a one off thing it would</div><div>be fine, folding our wings on their side of the hedgerow, of course.</div><div>So, most charming people who share a love of Hawaii with us, cold</div><div>beer, a fly in party for all of us, and a temporary LZ. Not a bad</div><div>landing at all.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then it was off to Annecy with Reaper, Bon Bon, Andrew, and Sharkey.</div><div>It was Torrey Pines all over again, except for an astroturf covered launch in a forest and a lake instead of an ocean, and an LZ with a restaurant to land at instead of a nude beach mostly full of old men. I counted twenty wings in the air. Reaper said it can be 200. It will be fun to see on a weekend. Great bunch of people to road trip with it is very true, like: "I don't want my money back I just want to know how many times you have sold this fucking monkey" etc., but the most interesting thing was the toilet. Please ask Reaper. He even took a video :)</div><div><br />
</div><div>Aloha,</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Frosty Nuts"</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Six-- Close Encounters and Thank God for that Abortion</div><div><br />
</div><div>Ate an almond croissant that I didn't need. As she handed it to me, she described it as also being chocolate filled. I am sure it was fattening because nothing that good is not.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I grabbed my gear and rode the lift up to west launch. A short ride down valley and back was good for launch and landing practice. The "Saturday LZ" looked good and I almost commited to it, but it should be walked first. Alex said he would help.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Down at the LZ, Bon Bon and Kaawa Larry decided to go again, too. We launched west with the intention of working convergence over the lift into the same on top and then going elsewhere. The theory sounded good, but it just was not happening. I tried to work it for what it was worth anyway. I turned inside a few bunches of bee farts, sometimes gaining a bit, more often losing a little. During one of these hopeful maneuvers, as I turned towards the hill, Larry was coming out from the hill. It blew my circle. We both turned to the right, with me basically doing a 180 to stay out of the trees. He was now below me and to my right and rising. I was above and a bit behind him to his left, but descending. His wing rose up and contacted my feet. So far so funny. I continued banking to the left wanting separation. And then it happened: my right foot slipped between some of his trailing edge lines. I am personally and intimately familiar with how quickly things can go from OK to life destroying. The lines snagged on my boot for a moment, braking his wing. My boot popped free from his lines. His wing surged and I yelled something like "Holy Shit" and started laughing like I do. That was a close call for sure. Larry figured that I had been also rising and was well behind him and so was out of the way, but I was in the sink next to his lift. All is well that ends well. Always assume that the other pilot does not know where you are, I guess. Even though it was my fault, Larry's call sign is now "Mid-air".</div><div><br />
</div><div>Andrew ("Flash") was on his way up the lift with his great camera and we overflew him on our way down to clean landings. I remember Bob from Torrey's observation that cameras kill more pilots than machine guns, but there was no more drama. It was Flash's turn.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Mid-air, Bon Bon, and I folded our wings as Flash sank out like we had done. He went further east (downwind) than recommended for base but still yet appeared to have a decent glide path, assuming of course that he either didn't hit sink or was wearing an engine. He apparently decided that the bigger LZ to the east of our position was a better idea and turned downwind for that one. About a minute later Mr. Master of the Understatement radioed that he had not landed quite where he had hoped. When pressed for details, it had something to do with half naked women next to a lake. Good job. His helmet cam had been on the whole time and the video was even more exciting than naked women (who almost got landed on). His low level downwind path to me echoed my Mauna Kea landing. Downwind, base, and final require altitude and if you don't have it, well, let's just say that a limited option combo downwind final can get interesting. His video'd route went low right over the artsy roof tops of a school at high speed and then he was forced to veer left to not land in a lake but rather on the bathing beauties. It is an exciting video and we are all happy about the ending.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The three of us hiked over to lunch with Reaper and Alex and the foul tempered French waiter who, when I requested steak tartar like Reaper had just enjoyed, informed me that there were rules to be followed: first I must be handed a menu, and only then, after perusing the menu would I be allowed to order, and then after executing his own duties our waiter could go take a nap. One did not begin a story at the end, did they? France is great. Lunch was delicious and the company was good too.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then we all marched over to the south lift and rode a gondola up to where mysterious ungulates poop a lot. Launching to the west to join Alex and Nick and overfly glaciers was the plan. I began my preflight laying out and hooking up. Flash helped make sure that there were no compression knot wanna be's. I built a beautiful wall and lifted it up over my head. Most excellent indeed. I began running towards the end of the earth. My crotch on the one side had that nice airy feeling. I was about to compose a feminine product ad in my head when realization struck-- "Abortion!" I killed the wing and spun around sinking to my knees ready to grab reindeer shit for whatever that would be worth. I had not completed hooking in my right side. That was a close one. I would actually have been OK but it would not have been fun flying around crooked. I finished hookeing up and launched out over the glacier. Maybe it was the lighting, but it looked like a bunch of ice with rocks on it. "A bunch of gay waterfalls, too" went the radio chatter. Landing got bumpy a few hundred feet above the LZ when the nice headwind lost it's good mood and began shifting. It was an "interesting landing" continued the chatter.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The air mellowed out after a while and Reaper, Bon Bon, and Flash followed us in. Alex talked story with some British dude, Xavier (Side Hill's favorite instructor, I think) told us to let him know if anyone gave us any shit, and we watched an acro team arrive from the glacier high launch. At one point I counted fourteen loops-- and that was only after I noticed the guy. Their landings were spectacular too. Then it was off to chat with a celebrity (I forget her name) about a glacier launch and then to a pub where most of the rest of the monkeys joined us to share adventures. Even BC Ryan wandered in-- literally looking for a drink after air travel from hell complete with cancelled flights and lost baggage. Thank goodness Bon Bon is light. What a day.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Seven-- Bump Tolerance, Ball & Chain</div><div><br />
</div><div>No hangover for me but early morning monkey chatter kept mentioning pain relief medicine.</div><div>I followed Larry Mac down the hill from east launch, circling a couple of mild thermals that really only delayed the inevitable sink out onto wet grass. BC Ryan came in after me and then I'm not sure where everyone went. I threw my bag into and then jumped onto the bumper of a car containing Side Hill and went up to launch. None of the monkeys were on the hill, so I left my bag with Xavier and caught a gondola ride up to the summit. It was full of Nihonjin no retirees. They all softly went "waaaaaaaaaaaa" when one of Xavier's student's wing overflew him at launch. They took pictures of me after I agreed that the view was "sugoi". Nice views up there. The air was starting to work and there were also cliff hangers doing their thing on a couple of extreme faces. Back down at launch monkeys were showing up and launching. The thermals were punchy and it was an exciting ride after I began hooking them. At one point a couple other pilots and I, who had been circling each other going up for who knows how long, reversed direction. I think their left arms were sore, too, is all. I cleared 7200' almost at the top of the mountain and headed down valley, stopping for refills when possible. I left the valley for Plaine Joux (spelled how?) on a beeline from about 7000'. Alex and Duck said "hi" when I got there. I could have landed on Duck's field, but was very tired and tried to work lift out front to set up a proper top landing. I eventually sank out. Should have preserved my options. Brendt was down at the LZ and not happy about being there. It was fine for me. I took a nap on a bench, was woken up by some helicopter operations, watched a guy lose a riser, had an espresso, and then rode a train back to town. Riley really would have gone nuts over the train ride along a river between mountains through little towns. Back at town I met up with Larry Mac after enjoying an ice cream cone and some nice scenery walking around in the town square.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Wandering back into downtown to try and catch up on some internet business, I ran into a bunch of Monkeys at the tour center. Reaper had proposed to Bon Bon. She had accepted and we were celebrating. Mad dog, Alex, Nick, Duck all walked in from Plaine Joux and joined us. After much picture taking and a run around town looking for more wine, we bailed for dinner where I met Brittany the beautiful blonde acupunturist 805 689 9427 b28schram@yahoo.com & Laurel the beautiful asian on a year long me time leave of abscence from Ford. Both girls are rock climbers from Michigan. Nick and Ryan helped me take them for a night cap. Ryan insisted the ladies were 30 year old cougars, but that is because he is 12, eh? We were offered a night flight by one of the lift operators. i wonder if any of the monkeys would be interested?</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Eight-- Happy Landings</div><div><br />
</div><div>My batteries have finally run out.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I played with my Hero HD at west launch and then went to 8200. Before I died of hypothermia or doing the wrong thing after a collapse I redeemed myself with a most excellent Villa Mauna Kea landing. It is so much easier to land when you are able to set up for it. After enjoying a panini burger accross the street from the lift, I joined Duck & Ginger, Berndt, and Alex for lunch on the river. The food here is beyond words. A kayak even went past.</div><div><br />
</div><div>After a quick nap, (How those guys went to fly at Annecy is a mystery to me and my tired old bones.) Alex and I decided not to do that south face. Good thing, because my watch was off by half an hour and in short order I realized we were late for our party. Jeanine showed me a short-cut to Mauna Kea makai of the Gendarmerie and I hurried up to the house. Peter and Oscar greeted me at the door. Their enthusiasm was only dampened by the fact that they missed my landing earlier in the day at their house and that there would be none that evening. Alex persuaded me that the local club could catch heat from a bunch of us landing in other than a prescribed LZ. I went off to fetch the rest of the parapunts and we arrived as a herd at a house full of pupu's and good things to drink and most excellent hosts. Peter and Leslie, George and Oscar were very happy to see us all. The kids circulated through the party with pupu's: "Excuse me sir, may I offer you macadamia nuts?" "Please excuse me, miss, would you care for a glasss of wine?" I want my son to hang out with some kids like this. Alex's wine was truly delicious. I got some laughs showing my helmet cam into the bushes landing video. After we all posed for pictures, we played a game of football on some slippery grass. Nick and Duck are ferocious players, but our ace in the hole was Oscar, who when arranging the teams offered to be our goalie: "It is the only way for us to win" he insisted. "It is time for us to go-- they have kids that need to get to sleep" was a bad idea and dismissed out of hand, especially by the kids. Alex, George, Oscar, and I played a smell game. The ocean (le mer) does not smell like that. Tom and Donna showed up bearing okurimono for the kids. Don & Yolie arrived. Ginger & Jeanine explored the house. Reaper and Bon Bon arrived. Then it was around the countertop, with me being about the only dufus lacking the agility to do so. I'm glad Mad Dog didn't try it. Ryan and Sharkey made it look easy. Something like a sideways coconut tree was Sharkey's explanation. And then-- like a fireworks finale, we raced though the hallway, relayed back and forth on giant mice. We left not only having enjoyed a very good party, but also having made new friends.</div><div>Leslie Feeney Baily: liesliefeeney@btinternet.com, 0632 987 735, 0450 532 854</div><div>Peter Baily: peter@becauseitsthere.net, +44(0)7712 531 010</div><div>Nick and I walked back though Les Pauses towards Brevent. "It is amazing how dark it is, isn't it?" commented Nick. "Rrrroarrrrrr!" A monster burst from the foliage on my right. Alex's timing could not have been better. My stomach hurts today from laughing so much. Another ambush behind us sounded successful, too.</div><div><br />
</div><div>There is not a lot of monkey chatter on this two cup morning.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Nine-- "This was worth getting herpes"</div><div><br />
</div><div>A bunch of us bailed to Annecy again. After wasting about five hours at the parapente store and restaurant without even offering the eye candy a ride, we finally got ourselves in gear. This time we did the higher launch near the end of the lake. Reaper gave the site intro and then it was off into the traffic jam. Some of the other pilots appeared more interested in mutual destruction than I was comfortable with. I hooked one last thermal that took me back over launch and managed to out-fly the pilot also in the thermal opposite me. I had about a 100' on him when he left towards the ridge behind launch. Hoping he knew what he was doing, I followed. By the time we got to the bare granite face of the cliff, I was also skimming trees, but not losing a lot, and then it started happening. Took a bunch tries, but I finally cleared summit number one just after Mad Dog left for the next butte. After earning a bit more altitude, I followed, with a tandem above me that sank out to my right when he tried too hard to work that hill with the restaurant on it. I made "number two" in the trees, but found workable lift. The rock fall was better yet. And then at cliff base I hooked into a screamer (I screamed) that express elevatored me to the summit. I think my report contained mention of nude sunbathing at the butte top. Then it was on to number three: "The Teeth" behind the launch we did the other day. There I finally caught up with Mad Dog. I even briefly saw the top of his wing. We all get a little lucky sometimes. Maxing out, we decided to play for past the castle on the other side of the lake, going for the windward side of the ridge rising up more or less from that point. I got beeps again just after clearing the shoreline road and made it to workable lift at the ridge. Working up ridge was interesting, because the best workable lift was at ridge-top and it disapeared entirely much below that. So, you fly up-ridge as far as you can, the only thing is that the ridge rises at a faster rate than you do, so you either get spanked for hubris and sink out or be smart and turn back down- ridge just before things stop working and get back over the ridge-top with a nice altitude gain in the piggy bank and then do it all over again. I got too ambitious after the second set of power lines. I was in front of Mad Dog and chasing pilots working the tippy top of the ridge and I got too far below ridge-top and the gods decided that I was a bad boy. I began considering some of those farms and a walk to the highway. I made it back to about where I had first intercepted the ridge and started all over. By that time Mad Dog had begun crossing back over the lake and Alex, Duck, and Reaper were all joining me along with a bunch of other pilots. Reaper was bit low and commented that he would work the castle lift before landing in the water. It really was dying off a bit and it wasn't long before we crossed over the ridge for the LZ at the end of the lake. That was exciting, complete with a pattern full of landing gliders making right traffic. What a gorgeous day indeed. Alex even commented that it was worth having taken a sip of pre-flight Reaper water, complete with social disease risks. Berndt followed us in, Nick and Alex got the van, Bon Bon and Sharkey had exciting flights, with Sharkey being more acro that he probably intended. We enjoyed frosty beverages with the "Geneva Merchants of Death", gave Duck's van a rinse, and then drove (Bon Bon assisted by yours truly, much appreciated by the back seat passengers, I must add) to the Tex Mex place where Nick and I ate a steak bigger than our heads.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Ten-- Paying Bills</div><div><br />
</div><div>I took the day off-- to work. Gag.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Day Eleven-- OD</div><div><br />
</div><div>We are rained out here at Chamonix and like a bunch of ducks the monkeys are heading south variously to Venice and Rome. The "para-widows" are not complaining, but I hope they will all still be married.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I tagged along with Reaper and Bon Bon, driving south on autostrasse often at something better than 180 kh. Upon arrival in Venice Reaper announced that if you walked around in the islands for two hours it would take eight hours to get out and then he set about proving his point. We walked around lost only for about an hour or so in the very interesting maze that is Venice before sitting down for a good dinner and a glass of wine. I fell into conversation with some Aussies and then we found the rest of the monkeys: Duck & Ginger, Tom & Donna, and Berndt. I got into some absinthe, or rather it got into me and then it proceeded to kick my butt. Duck saved my life, the only MIA, later found, being a SFH3 sweat shirt.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Twelve-- Good Spaghetti</div><div><br />
</div><div>We wandered around Venice some more, ultimately touring St. Mark's. Truly an amazing place, very full of scenery. Inside St. Marks we even saw some dead saints. I have decided that Venice is the place to get a replacement mask for the one that my guests broke. I took a boat back to the train station and hotel for a nap, past lots of other canal traffic, interesting buildings, and the most beautiful gardens. I'm sitting at a cafe enjoying a shot of espresso and people watching, including a serenade by a violinist, guitarist, and accordian player. The african hand bag guys have set up mid-square and I'm waiting for the cops to show. The bag salesmen have look-outs and everything.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I just had the best spaghetti of my life. I wandered by myself down Rio Marin. There were children in a boat singing and dancing and otherwise raising hell while their happy father drove the boat. I saw another small outboard boat piloted by a man holding his very pregnant sweetie while a lady friend of theirs conversed with them. I bought some fruit and a gatorade for my head from a happy rugby player who owned an interesting very Italian grocery who had pictures of his children on a shelf behind the register. There was an alleyway with no more than about five feet of head room that a couple came out of. That looked interesting. I went into that rabbit hole and emerged on a street with a lovely neighborhood restaurant, where people knew each other. I don't know how they made the spaghetti so delicious. It swam in olive oil and the tomato pieces were mostly skin. A couple of tables over a bovine woman is on her third course, that I have counted, and announced that she has been to the restaurant three times because it is that good. For once, I see nothing wrong with that. My own stomach is happy and I am only sad because it is full. Sitting here underneath the menu, my rave reviews have caused no fewer than ten people to enter the restaurant where they are now having some really good food.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Thirteen-- Back to Chamonix</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm back in Chamonix from Venice, basically couch surfing with my guardian angels Duck & Ginger and wondering where my roommate is with the other key for the unit rented through tomorrow night. Not knowing where I am going to be the next couple days is liberating, though flying is the important thing again. We pigged out at L'M.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Fourteen-- An SIV Course is a Great Investment</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hooked up with Fireman Dave & BC Ryan, also Larry Mac and Brendt and Don. We went to the next little down up valley, rode a couple of gondolas up and then forward launched off a snow field with a minor katabatic wind. Laying out on snow was easy. When you felt no wind on your neck, you just started running. It was the most beautiful sled ride of my life. The jagged Alps and glaciers and clouds were all absolutely stunning. Ryan took a great movie and I hope it makes it to his website soon.</div><div><br />
</div><div>After a salad of duck meat and goose liver over endives, et al-- this is France, desu ne, we drove out to Plan Jeux, or whatever, and launched into some nice conditions. I was afraid that the thermals funnelling up by launch were going to die off because the sun was moving away and so I followed the Sun and Fireman and Mad Dog around the corner. I did find lift on some cliff faces and carefully worked then like the Annecy ridges. Then I got to below the whatever launch beyond Plan Jeux and went up. But I also started getting beaten up, complete with plenty of asymetric wing tip collapses. I saw the lake that Mad Dog had described as an alternate and some little sail boats. How cute. There was a wing landing and it was Fireman Dave. He said that the wind was strong but smooth. I snagged a little lift from a hill on the way there. About 150 over the field things got exciting with a couple of large asymetric collapses. Thank goodness for that SIV course last year, for sure. Down on the ground, Dave and I looked around: "Oh there's a wind-sock!" "Hey-- those are wind surfers!" All is well that ends that way. We walked over towards the overpass. The farmer coming over to yell at us was just a bloke who said "bon jour". Bicyclists went booking past as did a train. Dave had been sinking towards the tracks, which would have sucked because those trains go pretty fast. A horseman had a hell of a time with his horse who hated trains. it would not go accross the tracks. Have you ever hear Mr. Ed say "fuck that"? It's pretty funny, but look out for those hooves. The rider had to dismount to lead it accross. When he remounted, the thing just booked. Dave saw a beer bottle fall out of his saddlebag. Cool. I ran back for it, but the Noel Beer turned out to be water. (We hope.) Meanwhile, Mad Dog flew back to way above launch at cloud base like he does and then onto the LZ to join Ryan. Brendt and Jenine picked us up. We had a couple of frosty beverages at the LZ with Xavier who has flown in Nepal and Thailand, among other places, including getting arrested in Yellowstone because rangers have no sense of humor.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Fifteen-- Fallout</div><div><br />
</div><div>Flew once down Brevent. Great day for sledding-- on a speed wing. I ain't doing it, but BC and the kid from Oahu are getting the most out of their lift passes. Larry threw himself off, I think, and I did the same, working it close to the hill for about twenty minutes before letting myself sink out. Saw some miniature goats painted like skunks on the cliff.</div><div>Most of us got kicked out today. The Duck van went to Geneva today with Duck & Ginger, Mad Dog & Jennine, and Berndt. Larry Mac has the studio until the 14th. Hope my cleaning deposit comes back.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm enjoying a toasted bernaise chicken sandwich that is pretty awesome.</div><div>Saw Peter & Oscar. It was first day when all the kids choose what sports they will be in for the next year. I had also overflown a farmer's market and a bunch of amusement park style rides.</div><div>With all my laundry finished, thank god, I met up with Ryan. We "Shinjuku'd" Dave's car and then with Dave & Rainette and Evan the speed wing guy from Skydive Hawaii down the hill we all left to Verbier.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Once in Verbier, past alpine scenery, trains on steep grades, vineyards, and even a fire, we began looking for hotels. Frustration had just begun setting in, when back down the hill, I looked up and saw "le Stop" with 29 SF per person. A guy in the bar upstairs told me to call them and they would let us in. Cool. Dave phoned the number on the sign, the answering guy gave us a lock box access code to open the front door, that gave us access to a box of front door keys, and that allowed us access to a fallout shelter complete with a vault door and showers and valves on the walls. It was all on the honor system: we left the advertised 29 SF per person. It did require us to go across the river to get drunk enough to sleep with our clothes on, as there were no sheets, but mattresses and toilets and showers were very welcome indeed.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Sixteen-- Cow Bells</div><div><br />
</div><div>Up the hilll we went. Don & Yolie appeared on radio as a pleasant surprise. We launched twice from the top of the second lift. Don & Jolie graciously picked us up at a very scenic little white church at the corner of a meadow. Don joined us for the second flight. His ordeal at le Grand Montet had been more serious than we had been aware of. He blew a launch, almost went into a hole in an ice cave, and then had to climb out of a very precarious situation, complete with a cave rimmed by icicles, etc., basically looking death in the eye. The only thing missing for the poor guy was an angry Yeti. Well, his Verbier flight was doctor ordered. He took off right after me. I ignored the great lift out in front of launch to prematurely try up-valley. The more patient Don stayed in that lift and and majorly skied out. Ryan ran back up the hill to join him. Then Dave, Evan, and I went up to the top of the third lift just before it shut down and figured out where we could launch. David is a great do it yourselfer and a good wind dummy to boot. If he ever doesn't go, I sure as hell will not. But went we did, with a thunderstorm gust front from down-valley and development behind worrying us down the hill in record time. The lift was closed, right? We flew to the church again. Even with big ears and full speed bar deployed I got a few beeps. Dave suggested that then was a good time to practice spirals. I actually landed in sink. Who knew? I packed up beneath threatening shadows. As soon as Ryan appeared with the car it began raining. Perfect. We all posed for photos, then followed the directions of a nice information lady at the train station to a great dinner and a real hotel room. A very good day, besides the miniature tasteless hamburgers, perhaps, but the cook was British, so there was no blaming him.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Seventeen-- Matterhorn!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Fireman David, BC Ryan, Evan & Ramey and I went to Zermatt. We parked the car, took a train to Zermatt, then wandered around town with our wings. The Matterhorn was incredible scenery. It was slow going because every time we took a picture. While Evan, Ramey, and I watched skiiers pau practice and fighter aircraft buzz by, David & Ryan went back down the hill and found Bruno, who had been paragliding for 24 years, the last 23 as a professional tandem pilot. David tried on one of the first paragliders ever created. Bruno agreed to take Ramey for a flight with us. We rode up an impressively steep rail line that utilized cogs to Riffelburg. I milked a cow. Ramey made it smile. Then we walked over to an epic launch with good ridge soaring conmbined with some spicy thermals. We soared with very clear views of the Matterhorn in all it's picturesque majesty. It's summit weather dramatically changed from minute to minute. The thing is four sided, steep as hell, was the last Alpine peak conquered, and has killed 500 mountaineers since then. Our view also included a bunch of glaciers, lots of little pointy Matterhorn look alikes, and the little alpine village of Zermatt where you can now pay $200,000 for a watch. We freaked out on the view, executed multiple top landings, ate some cheese, and took lots of photos. The cold finally got the better of us as the valley winds mellowed a bit and we finished landings on a train tunnel on the other side of the valley, except for Evan, who rode a speed wing down the hill. Fondue dinner with Bruno consisted of dead deer, a lot of cheese, and good stories. He even flew the Japanese PM's wife, who flapped her arms a lot. It was a delicious dinner indeed.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then it was back down the hill on another train to fetch the car and get to a station where Evan & Ramey bailed for Interlakken. Ryan was dropped off at Lausan, were he could catch a train to the airport for his flight home. Then David and I went to sleep with the gypsies.</div><div><br />
</div><div>rameywren@hotmail.com, ib_fallin@hotmail.com</div><div></div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Eighteen-- Fear & Loathing or Waking Up With Accordians</div><div><br />
</div><div>At the moment, Dave and I are at an Autogrill truck stop. We slept in the car. It took hours to get to sleep, I can tell you, but this morning I could have slept longer. Many of the other vehicles with people sleeping were occupied by Gypsies. I found some showers downstairs, which were very welcome. This place is clean and safe and nice and the only disconcerting thing, besides "Shell to Hell, (Anarchy!)" on a nearby wall is hardcore "You Are My Favorite Waste of Time", etc. being played first in the showers and now throughout the joint at low volume. Maybe I am closer to understanding the Swiss suicide rate, I don't know... But at least we got BC Ryan to the train station. No good deed goes unpunished.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Refreshed, David and I made arrangements for a Geneva hotel, a car for me, and then drove to to lunch with Collette, of French South Pacific fame.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then it was off to Geneva, out from under the inversion if lucky. We got to the Annemassey cable car before the lift closed. David had a challenging non-launch. I earned myself a severe leg cramp with my dehydrated non-limbered-up sled-ride down to a nice big field of grass where I met Hit Girl. Any young lady that does a one handed push-up can be called that. Dave drove over and we hobbled to the surprisingly well equipped Park & Suites Confort Annemasse and then to a dinner at the Est West restaurant as good as any on this trip. Their enchilada was to die for. Those are not typos.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Good night.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Nineteen-- Solo Monkey</div><div><br />
</div><div>David and I went to Geneva airport to drop off and pick up cars. He gave me a map and electrical plug converter-- very thoughtful and useful gifts, which actually say a great deal about a good guy like Fireman Dave. I'm now on my way to Interlakken, mostly maxing out the little piece of (insert whatever) Citroen. Oh I know-- Citroen must be French for Shit-on.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Made it to Interlaken and hitched a ride (8 SFr) up to launch with one of the paragliding operations. The visitor mix has changed over the years. It used to be all Americans, now Koreans and, unfortunately, Indians. "Unfortunately"? Many of the visiting Indians are upper caste and even as little kids treat those around them like shit, or at least that is the way it feels to be ordered around as though you are of lower caste. But that is the way they are raised, it is learned behavior after all, and they should be pitied for being jerks if they cannot help it, the Swiss driver explained. And anyway, pilots are treated with respect.</div><div><br />
</div><div>No good deed goes unpunished: I began setting up away from the crowded launch and one of the operators freaked out because farmers are "such fuckers" (a German word?) and so much rent gets paid for the launch anyway. Later I learned just how much care goes into the fields around here. A bale of hay is alledgedly valued at $1000. Whether or not that is true, foreign seeds tracked in on paraglider boots and doggie doo and whatever can spoil cattle feed and later ruin milk and cheese. It is all very well subsidised and is a source of pride and enjoyment to the Swiss. Maybe they should put up an interesting sign explaining all this to knuckleheads like me. The sky was a bit on the stable side and it was a 9 minute sled ride, but I did land in front of my recommended hostel, the Backpacker Villa, across the roundabout at the southeast corner of the gigantic downtown LZ. My leg was still quite sore from the Geneva cramp, but a good Sergio Leone film and talking story with fellow travellers in a very good hostel was just the thing for it.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Twenty-- Gravity Games</div><div><br />
</div><div>Evan & Ramey had sent an e-mail to me and we hooked up. Evan had been anticipating a base jump and speed winging at Interlaken, but that just didn't happen. He was still good company, but understandably totally bummed. The two of them were nice enough to accompany me to the same launch again. My first flight was not only scenic, but had plenty of free re-fills. I got to watch the guy in the blue wing do insane sats, etc. and after getting sick to my stomach watching his acro, got to fly out to practice my own pretty mild spirals and wing overs that didn't feel that way to me. After about an hour I flew back in over the canals and downtown to the LZ. On the ground I popped my wing back up a few times as a prop for some Indian family photos. I like Indians and Koreans, even if the hostel kitchen smells the way it does. Curried kim chee, anyone?</div><div><br />
</div><div>A second flight in the late afternoon was just another sledder, notable for the giant hawk doing better than me at the cliff before town.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The day was obviously a loss for Evan, who was also bummed about a parking ticket he earned for me. After buying him a couple of beers at the Funny Farm to cheer him up he tried to give me the 40 franc for da kine, but I requested a sky dive from him him someday instead, transferrable to my next suicidally depressed friend who needs to be thrown out of a plane, because that would benefit the world more, and he agreed. A very good guy. He convinced me to go check out the Play Gravity film previewing in Bern that evening and we teamed up with Ramey's Rip Van Winkle friends to drive up. En route, Mark answered choke questions about this place. I learned from him just how militarized Switzerland is, as we passed numerous troglodite military bases. Yeah, the freeways viaducts are wired with explosives, too. Switzerland is a very interesting place. It is fiercely neutral, not even in the EU. The cantons are quite independent, with legal documents in different languages. An attorney told Mark that the basis for the legal system here is Roman. Alpine farming is actively preserved. There are no bums--anywhere. I personally have not seen a single homeless person, as opposed to every other country I have ever visited with the exception of Singapore. Employer paid medical is available to all employees. Education is the envy of the world, with lots of foreign students paying big bucks to be here. The minimum wage is 22.50 an hour, according to Mark. A month of annual paid vacation, to start, is there for all employees. When I asked why the suicide rate is high, I was told that is just the way the Swiss are. There are no traffic cops in evidence. Camera speeding tickets for less than 30 kh over are not a big deal and you can have as many as you want. Over that, you lose your license for a month. Drug laws are liberal. Prostitution and gambling are legal too. Any problems that people have with these are dealt with directly, instead of locking people up like in the Land of the Unfree police state back home, because like the Dutch, the Swiss are all about the money and it makes a lot more sense to treat people than lock them up in gladiator academies. Duh. When there was a motion to ban base jumping by some neighbors living below a popular cliff who were tired of finding dead jumpers in their gardens, the local judges ruled that if alpine cliff climbing had been banned back when it too killed a lot of people, it would never have evolved into the safe activity that it is today. Base jumping is a way to avoid a climb back down with all of those complications, besides. There was no appeal. Traffic lights show yellow in between red and green as well as between green and red. That is very convenient. Roundabouts are also a great thing, especially if you are unsure of the exit from one and need to look at the sign a few times. Remind me of my spirals, actually. The only thing I miss about driving in America are free right turns.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The crowd for the movie "Play Gravity 2 The Other Side" at Bern was quite athletic, mostly taller than me, and 100% white. Darker people are too smart to climb up or into things and then throw themselves off went the explanation, though I remember every single tandem passenger in Interlaken being either South or East Asian. "The supreme irony in life is that nobody gets out alive", or something like that, no wait-- "The supreme irony in life is that almost nobody gets out alive". The film contained some truly spectacular high definition sequences. Landing a helicopter at the top of a ridge so narrow that the skids extend out from it in both directions to drop off snowboarders looked not only insane, but also like something I want to do. Watching the snow boarders tear down the ridge face, triggering avalanches as they went was breathtaking. Watching the paraglider transforming an infinite tumble into a base jump into a lake got cheers out of the audience, as did the speedwing pilot basically barefoot water skiing out from under a bridge onto the beach. Riley would love this movie. I can hear the little guy looking up at me and telling me "I want to do that, someday."</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Tweny One-- Supercars</div><div><br />
</div><div>On my way back to Geneva on back roads to a hostel that had no less than four stars. The sky today is very OD. But good weather is predicted tomorrow and I hope to fly until I puke.</div><div>Took back roads to Geneva. Had coffee at Eden Cafe on the north side of the lake. Had lunch at Migros at I think Thun. Watched supercars racing at an airport in Salans. First noticed a Skyline, then Ferraris (red, of course). There were a couple Mercedes with long noses and gull wing doors that appeared to have their trunk lids go up when they braked hard. An Audi supercar was in attendance. The loudest of all was what looked like a Honda stock car sans doors that filled the valley with thunder and seemed to go even faster than the supercars. I would have loved to see the lap times. After that excitement, I got stuck with a bunch of other cars on some hairpins behind a big truck. I even stopped to take a picture and nobody honked. That is how slow we were going. At Geneva, I had a heck of a time finding the hostel because of bad cartography. I actually watched a couple of super cars race in rush hour traffic. What is with those things? I found the information kiosk, got a good map, then arrived at the hostel a few minutes later.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Twenty Two-- Fly Geneva</div><div><br />
</div><div>Ate couscous at Annemassey then enjoyed a quick flight after a telephonique (or whatever) ride. Made the top of the ridge all the way across. A woman in the restaurant had her baby wave at me. I finally went too far along the ridge. Not sure why there was no lift over that way, but I didn't feel like working it and landed to go back to the hostel. I slept for nearly twelve hours.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Twenty Three-- Homeward Bound</div><div><br />
</div><div>Woke up, jogged down to the Geneva waterfront, packed for the airport, bailed. I feel Riley tugging on my heart and am very ready to go home.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Day Twenty Four-- Home</div><div><br />
</div><div>Motel 6 SFO is miss. It's even run by a bunch of Armenian thugs. Really. There is no courtesy bus as was advertised online, either. This morning I hopped on another hotel's bus back to the airport and so felt justified having a $30 breakfast including my San Francisco bowl of clam chowder to get me through the flight. Out of curiosity, I asked the guy who patted me down "If I was not gay, could I request a woman to do the pat down?" He winked at me (I'm not gay, but this is San Francisco and how questions are asked matter.) and he said, that no, they are sexist that way. He added that at first, when they were understaffed, that often searches were mixed sex and some squares really balked. Now, I don't know about you all, but I feel better about a colon check being done by a good looking woman than some guy. Same with airport pat downs. Call me a homophobe if you want, but it is a matter of personal preference and if the Christians and Muslims can freak out, then so can guys like me. Things we have to endure should be fun if they can be. At this point I feel like saying "The Revolution Starts Today!" or something like that, but real men have better things to do than get offended all the time and I'm only keyboard babbling like this because I am stuck at a gate waiting for the flight to Kona, a nap, and then my little boy whom is so missed I am getting sick over it. Just now I got misty in the bathroom, remembering changing his diapers on that fold down thing and later carrying a folding step everywhere so he could reach the toilet, and these days, wiping down the lowest urinal in the room for him. Funny what's endearing, yeah? That swim and hot tub back in Kona are going to feel so good.</div><div><br />
</div>Frosty Nutshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489857223256675976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-88064410515784232042010-09-10T10:26:00.010+03:002010-09-15T00:36:59.127+03:00L'Achat de la Biere est Obligatoire!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="CLEAR: left; FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1em; MARGIN-LEFT: 1em" href="http://s556.photobucket.com/albums/ss1/puka_wai/Chamonix/?albumview=slideshow"><img alt="" src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss1/puka_wai/Chamonix/MadeTheCrossing-1200.jpg" width="320" border="0" /></a>Je suis en train de deguster mes vacances - therefore I have been avoiding computers with zeal. It was time to check into cyberspace again though, so here's a bit of a Chamonix flying story from my perspective. After some "challenges" in California that usually come with an adventure (like dead batteries and "personalizing" my glider bag and camping gear with a motorcycle exhaust pipe) and the interminable flight to Zurich, I finally landed in Europe on a Monday morning. <br />
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A short walk down an escalator brought me to the train station to get a Fahrschein to Chamonix. Train leaves in 10 minutes. Public transportation that actually works - what a concept! A relaxing ride on a near silent train through the stunningly beautiful Swiss countryside brought me to the even more stunning Chamonix valley. I managed to reach Adrianna, Yolie, and Donna on the radio as they being tortured on a leetle, leetle hike by Jeannine, and also heard some more intermittent monkey chatter in the distant background.<br />
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Too late to fly that day, I was itching to fly the next day and went up to fly from the Plan Praz launch for an extended sled ride that was repeated at Plaine Joux in the afternoon - conditions were just a bit too high pressure. Nothing to complain about though - I have had only two soaring flight in the Chamonix valley on my previous 3 trips to this area and didn't mind a bit as this destination is just so spectacular that it is unforgettable no matter what the outcome of the flying. <br />
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The next day conditions improved slightly due to a front that would be approaching in a few days. The early morning flight was a sled ride as usual, but I could tell that it was on the verge of getting soarable, in fact it might have been possible to climb out if I had big enough "oeufs" to circle extremely close to the trees and rocks. <br />
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Prudence dictated that I go land and relaunch, this time from the south launch to mix it up with a huge crowd of gliders working a rock face a short distance away. I just could not get into this kind of thermaling where I kept seeing others doing a sort of ridge soaring thing and getting up and when I did the same thing, I just sank out. I did much better hooking into a thermal and circling until more of the ridge soaring types came along and squeezed me out of the thermal I was tenaciously clinging to. <br />
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After two and a half hours of this thing that kept me at or below the 6700 ft launch height, I was getting a bit discouraged when I hooked a somewhat better thermal and after only a couple of turns I was well above the ridge soaring mob and could keep climbing. Soon I was at 8400 above Le Brevant, the top of the mountain! <br />
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I had heard over the radio that Alex and Reaper had sunk out into some sort of pit, while Mad Dog, Duck, and Sidehill had flown to Plaine Joux. I was looking around, wondering what the hell do I do now? Flying Monkeys came to my aide telling me to follow the ridge to the south where I could see Plaine Joux, and if I had 8000, I could easily glide there. <br />
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Of course, as soon as I left my thermal I encountered massive sink and saw all my hard earned altitude disappear. The end of the ridge was a massive thermal trigger though, and after working 200-300 ft/min lift all day, seeing 1200 ft/min on my vario was changing the color of my shorts. Even flying straight through that lift brought me back up to 8400 ft and on my way to Plain Joux. <br />
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I was ecstatic to be able to make this XC hop and also release the death grip off my controls to snap some pictures and make a triumphant if somewhat sketchy face-plant top landing at Plaine Joux. Sure, it cost me a round of grandes bieres, but man it was worth it!<br />
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Conditions improved even more the next day and I was able to stick with the first thermal I found all the way to 8600 ft., high above the top of the Brevant lift. Of course, Mad Dog had already been up there with a few other gliders, and they had all disappeared shortly before I got there. <br />
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Before I had launched we had run into Dennis Trott, a British expat that runs a B&B in the area that caters to paraglider pilots and who I knew from previous visits to Chamonix. He claimed one could glide straight to Plaine Joux if you were 600 ft above the Brevant, and that conversation replayed itself in my head as I found myself at just that altitude. <br />
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Departing straight over the back of Le Brevant, I ran into sink for a while, but along this more direct route to Plaine Joux one crosses over a second ridge, and Mad Dog was above this ridge tanking up on more altitude, so I thought everything was just peachy. Well, it seems that Mad Dog had used up all the lift that ridge had to offer, and I found nothing there except for maybe some “inverted lift”. <br />
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By the time I decided that patience would not serve me well in this spot I had lost a considerable amount of altitude, and I made a run for Plaine Joux. Sighting across a finger anchored to a riser indicated I could still reach Plaine Joux high enough to top land and join Alex, Duck and company who were already decimating the local beverage supply after taking the more circuitous but more reliable route along the Brevant ridge. <br />
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But, this day it was not to be: As I approached Plaine Joux, I was getting seriously flushed, and my hopes of top-landing disappeared behind a row of trees. I skirted around the launch to find even more sink and I was even beginning to get worried about making it to the Plaine Joux LZ as there was nothing but tall trees below me. <br />
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Things were looking grim when I heard some beeps on the vario and I clung to these beeps like a drowning man until it looked like I had a shot at top-landing after all! The lift fizzled out where I was just short of feeling comfortable about swooping over the trees surrounding the launch, and I ingloriously ran for the LZ where I found Big Island John. <br />
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I eventually did reach the launch after employing some undoubtedly mangled French several times to beg a ride. This was fortunate as I was able to buy a new helmet and then have great late afternoon flight soaring the rock faces that rise high behind the launch and then boat around for some time in quasi magic-air.<br />
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The following day conditions “improved” to the point where I didn’t take long for me to announce that things were beyond my comfort level as I was heading in to land. I soon found everyone else had followed me to the LZ, except, of course, Mad Dog, who went on to set a new personal record for himself. Nonetheless, I was happy to be on the ground so that I could fly Annecy the next day – but that’s a story for another day! (Snuck in a few pics of that into the slideshow behind the picture.)Puka Waihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08039269346520761103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-60299303910659204192010-09-07T15:35:00.010+03:002010-09-23T11:52:39.206+03:00Lake-crossing Losers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJrfda-cUJFWrdMloqpiOjRe0mA0IWkrP2_QEUngYHLGtQBsuPE5lz7IrEVUd8pMB_Gwq9yuUz1JVE48A9sQjxO1bJK5jDpWRsn3p4TuBBZSIahdFI2CIw1w6OEfBmyYABR-8cqcynWo/s1600/photo-737529.JPG"><img style="CLEAR: left; FLOAT: left; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJrfda-cUJFWrdMloqpiOjRe0mA0IWkrP2_QEUngYHLGtQBsuPE5lz7IrEVUd8pMB_Gwq9yuUz1JVE48A9sQjxO1bJK5jDpWRsn3p4TuBBZSIahdFI2CIw1w6OEfBmyYABR-8cqcynWo/s320/photo-737529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514149756930554690" /></a>[Update: I was confused about the names of the various formations along the ridge above Lake Annecy. I just figured out that only the 3rd formation away from the Montmin launch is the "teeth", the Dents du Lanfon - the one I thought was the 2nd tooth is called the Lanfonnet, and the one I thought was the 1st is the Roucher du Roux. And the really big peak behind Montmin, the one that will lead Mad Dog back to Chamonix one day, is La Tournette. My silly story below is based on the notion that all the formations are known as teeth, but apparently most of them were false teeth!] <br />
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On Saturday, Pete, Don, Thom, Larry Mac and Andrew opted to drive an hour and check out the flying at Annecy, while the rest of us decided to stay local and fly at Chamonix. Annecy is a beautiful and world-famous flying site above a large turquoise lake, surrounded by beaches and docks where locals of all ages can be seen sunning even their palest parts. But never mind about that. The skyline at Annecy is dominated by peaks of another sort. There are three towering granite formations that rise from the forested launch ridge at Annecy, like huge stone teeth jutting from a green gumline. They're actually called the Dents du Lanfon, the teeth of Lanfon.<br />
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The Annecy crew had some great flights on Saturday: Don and Andrew got high and crossed the lake to fly the other side, getting up there to soar the opposite ridge, besting Mad Dog and Quentin's incredible lake crossing flights from six years ago. <p>Crossing the lake is sort of comparable to crossing the bay back home - you need to get high enough to start, you need to take a good line across, minimize your direct headwind path, and figure out where to come in on the other side to work your way up. If it's even working over there. This crossing is probably 3 to 4 times as far, and you have to start from about 1,000 meters over the lake to make it across.<p>On the same day, back here in Chamonix, only Mad Dog and BC Ryan were able to get high enough in the sporty thermals to get up and out of the valley. I landed after a while, still feeling happy from the previous day's flight, and just cruised around town for the afternoon. My first little break from full time flying - whew! <p>So the next day, Sunday, a bunch of us ran out to Annecy to see if we could chase the flights those guys got the day before. We all know that rarely works out, but it seemed worth a try. <p>One of the coolest things about Annecy is the shops full of toys for kids like us. Pete had kindly set up a demo flight for me when he was in town the day before. On a Niviuk Peak 2, one of the four new EN D wings I've been dreaming about.<p>We got up to a very crowded launch and watched a lot of pilots launch, waiting til it looked like people were starting to stay up. Mad dog and Frosty launched first, and I followed in my demo wing. The flow was pretty strong and cross above launch, but the thermals were definitely working. Nick, Duck, Sharky, Bonnie, Berndt and Pete followed soon after. <p>Mad Dog and John got up first, quickly working their way across from the first tooth to the second and then the third, and before we knew it they were across the lake and climbing on the other side. Over the radio, we were treated to a very detailed real-time account of each thermal and every meter of altitude gain. <p>The rest of us struggled a bit longer to find our way up and over. Nick made it to the second tooth and opted to land near our car for logistical support. Thanks, Nick! Duck made it to the third tooth after patiently working the second. Berndt made the third tooth and got flushed there, but was able to thermal his way back up further out from the ridge. <p>I got to the second tooth low, below the green gumline where the cliffs rise from the trees, and found myself parked in strong sideways flow coming across the ridge face, turbulent with shredded thermals. I tried to battle my way up for quite a long time, trying various tacks to find a way up, but finally I gave up, retreating back to the launch area. Damn - I was totally flossed at the second tooth!<p>So here I was feeling like a real loser, coming in super low below launch and wondering if I could even get back to the LZ from that height. <br />
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That was when my luck finally kicked into gear. I found a weak little bubble of lift down there and dug in like my life depended on it. Somehow it was just enough to lift me up slowly to launch height again. I heard Bonnie on the radio saying "Alex, is that you below me??" Of course it was - she recognized me even in the demo wing. I joined her up there and then benched up to join Pete at the first tooth, above and behind launch. <p>At this point I had a second lease on life, and I was just happy to still be in the air. My ambitions for tooth crowning or lake crossing were long forgotten. I relaxed completely, just enjoying the hunt for thermals and the turning and turning in the widening gyre.<p>And then I found myself rather high over the first tooth. I know everyone said you had to work your way upwind to the third tooth for the crossing, but I made a sudden decision to throw that advice to the wind and just go from here. After all, I'm on a fancy new high performance glider. Then I heard Duck on the radio saying he's up at the third tooth and also starting his crossing. Cool! Let's see if we can join up! <p>I was using some speed bar because I knew my tack was more upwind than the typical route. Duck and I sailed over the lake and then past the first smallish ridge, feeling a bit low but committed to the agenda at hand. We converged at the second ridge and flew past to the windward side where we hoped to find some rising air. It was rising, but just barely. Another dude joined us and we began to scratch the treetops for the slightest bubble of lift.<p>We worked for what seemed like an hour, slowly stepping our way up the narrow ridge, but never getting high enough to feel like we could relax or go anywhere. Then Reaper joined us, pulling in low on the ridge with a bunch of other guys. <p>Finally I felt like I'd maxed out the possible lift, and I radioed Mad Dog for advice. He said we could totally make the LZ from our height. Thank God! I left immediately and bailed over the back, followed by Duck and Pete and Frosty. It was a long haul but this hot ship would surely take me home. And it did! Pete landed first, and the three of us came in soon after. The three of us came in and enjoyed a bounty of beers at the LZ bar shack. Berndt crossed over last, and soon joined us at the LZ as well. Six losers crossed the lake and made monkey history. <p>By the way, I absolutely loved that wing. I have ordered one from Pete and Rob at Eagle PG. Look for an orange and maroon streak in the skies over Oahu very soon...!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-55063921940588942152010-09-05T14:57:00.004+03:002010-09-15T00:41:34.531+03:00Je Suis un Bâtard!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pZhN48kcptyFrDKWgKMCzU21NBdYTVJ8vA55i82aQkv80QH99I7CggNM4hLRNBd4PwDLRkV0U3PXsxghzc1N-L_liBg_OZQ3dC8O-8oMJYAXZC7uYuUsgdEXIJIkimfaxukgr3HbKM0/s1600/photo-792687.JPG"><img style="CLEAR: left; FLOAT: left; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pZhN48kcptyFrDKWgKMCzU21NBdYTVJ8vA55i82aQkv80QH99I7CggNM4hLRNBd4PwDLRkV0U3PXsxghzc1N-L_liBg_OZQ3dC8O-8oMJYAXZC7uYuUsgdEXIJIkimfaxukgr3HbKM0/s320/photo-792687.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513397944000395490" /></a>I just figured out that there has been a technical problem with my previous posts that has stripped out the stories leaving only the pictures. I'll try to restore the text when I can get onto a wifi connection.<br />
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Yesterday we saw the best conditions since Nikki and I arrived three days ago. People were getting very high early on, under some really sweet looking fluffy clouds, and I was excited to think I might have a chance to finally make my way out of the valley to Plaine Joux. <br />
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On launch, Thom said "guys, I'm tired of going to Plaine Joux all the time, can't we cruise around the other end of the valley today?" I have to admit I kind of lost it, and I unloaded some uncharacteristic but choice words on poor Thom. Starting with "Shut up, dude!!!" I was so fixated on accomplishing my six-year XC dream that I guess I kind of had a stick up my butt. Sorry, Thom! <p>We all launched and tried to work our way above the ridge. The thermals were nice and organized and there were loads of pilots in the air to help mark the lift (and sink). Mad Dog and Berndt headed over the back directly from the peak above launch, le Brevent. Nikki and Duck were super high above the the last peak at the bottom of the valley, le Aiguillette, and I was just below the top of that peak struggling to connect with anything to get above it. Those two headed over the back and I just decided to follow from where I was, skirting around the corner of the summit. <p>The valley behind was enormous - like five miles across. I started to think I'd made a terrible mistake to start across from so low, especially seeing duck so specked out above me. At least there were lots of landable looking fields and pastures all over the valley.<p>I could see Mad Dog and Berndt working thermals on the granite wall of the ridge line deeper back in the valley, working their way out to the launch at Plaine Joux. Me and Duck were making a beeline directly to the launch plateau. Not sure how Nick got over, probably same as me and Duck.<p>As i approached, I watched Berndt tracking along the cliff face toward launch, but he was not finding much lift and I was starting to wonder if he'd get there high enough to topland. Turns out he was just a few meters too low, and he cruised by launch without getting any lift, so he continued past, looking for anything that might work, but without success, finally going to the LZ. <p>Now it was my turn. I was headed directly for the launch plateau but it was looking bad - I would probably come in just a bit too low and suffer the same fate as poor Berndt. Sure enough, I buzzed right across the launch, with several gliders laid out, but I was just about 5 meters too low to topland. I couldn't believe I could be this close to my dream flight and then be denied by 15 feet. But then, just past launch, I felt a nibble of lifting air. Beep. Beep, beep... I turned sharply over the huge pine trees, gritting my teeth and hoping I was turning the right direction too stay in this light little updraft. I wasn't sinking - and actually I was starting to climb. I focused all my worn out brainpower on just staying in that weak column of rising air. Suddenly I found myself just above the trees and the toplanding area rose into sight. I dove back to set up a landing, but not deep enough, and I was hurtling towards the launch now and mostly likely would fly off and away. No!!! I started flapping my brakes in a desperate attempt to keep from overshooting the launch, and I dropped down onto my feet in a bit of a parachutal stall just a meter from the edge. The wing fluttered down and I collapsed to my knees, overcome with relief and a wave of happiness. <p>Duck came in much higher, a few moments later, and we decided to celebrate our first XC to Plaine Joux with a glass of wine at one of the restaurants up there. Meanwhile Nikki had arrived super high at the top of the ridge behind launch, following Mad Dog, but he didn't find much up there and soon came down to join us. Then we watched Frosty John arrive slightly too low, gliding by just below launch and following Berndt down to the LZ. After a few glasses of wine we watched Mad Dog come down for a perfect toplanding, and we all celebrated our good fortune and good company. We were joined by our new British friend Baz who had also achieved his first flight from Chamonix - he had launched from the north side of the Aiguille!<p>We launched again after the effect of the libations had worn off a bit, but our motivation had waned by this time, and we soon found ourselves at the LZ with Berndt where we enjoyed many rounds of beer from the little bar down there. We were joined by some cool Danish pilots who had also made the trip from Chamonix for the first time.<p>I apologize again to Thom for taking his head off up at the Plan Praz launch! I am all relaxed and happy now, and proud to count myself among the really good pilots of le Team Bâtard!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-12100925384635737142010-09-05T10:53:00.006+03:002010-09-10T23:19:55.540+03:00When Cows Fly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FyXGQcUZUwgaBdzQJdVPwt-QKUTKH_AeYHCDQIQ5ofMDbbwdr21E65i2g3y79-8CQvjgZElTeQM8A5GgQv4mUyssdsnjVSu3rwtU1Y9G2xCi01DlEP4AU54JsQfuZR4yZXA4H_CdoWfb/s1600/Cow.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FyXGQcUZUwgaBdzQJdVPwt-QKUTKH_AeYHCDQIQ5ofMDbbwdr21E65i2g3y79-8CQvjgZElTeQM8A5GgQv4mUyssdsnjVSu3rwtU1Y9G2xCi01DlEP4AU54JsQfuZR4yZXA4H_CdoWfb/s320/Cow.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513335565525086258" /></a>Not all the adventures are in the air. Donna & Yolie got stuck driving down from launch as a herd of cows blocked the road. One apparently took a leak on the car Donna was driving, cow must have known it was Reaper’s. Big thanks to our wives for taking the vehicles down.<br />
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This was a day when we took a trip over to Annecy. The Monkey chatter in the morning said there would be tons of traffic at Annecy so no one else wanted to go and elected to stay in Chamonix. Don, Yolie, Donna & I in one car; Reaper, Bonnie, Flash & Mack in the other. It was just a short ride, about an hour to the bottom of the launch where all the PG stores were. We reserved several demo wings for the next trip to Annecy on Monday then headed up the hill.<br />
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Arriving at launch was where the traffic started, I think we estimated 2-3 hundred paragliders unpacking, on the launch and in the air. It was a mad house. The launch I actually layed down on and rolled a bit. It was a huge carpeted area that dropped off an edge towards the Lake. Reaper got his car load launched, I watched Don launch then I got enough courage to fight the crowd and elbowed my way to launch. <br />
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Don has been announcing his wish list just before we head up to launch and so far he is been batting a thousand plus. “All I would like to do today is, get up on the teeth.” This is a jagged out crop of mountain that is 3 benches up away. Well, today on launch we talked to English pilot that was super helpful and told Don & I of the ‘Circuit’. <br />
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The circuit starts at the launch bowl where you bench up enough to jump to the next mountain of thermals with the goal of the “La Dent” (the teeth mountain). Now when you get high enough, just over the top of La Dent you can turn and burn over the lake to the other side. “Your going to come in low, but don’t worry, it is like ridge lift on the other side.” Oh, I was so glad to hear that, my back is killing me from getting rock and rolled. Then he described what to do and how to cross back to the LZ. <br />
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Don & Flash obeyed every word and made the lake crossing along with maybe 30 others. I got spanked at the teeth with Reaper below me getting some severe wacks. Bonnie & Mack had already headed into the LZ. Reaper headed back to the LZ, he was getting some big fold over all the while chatting on the radio, must be experience. I could have gave it another try and benched up but my back was telling me to land. I headed out over the lake with the LZ easily on glide. <br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7Zf7hKZNecNKZf44qgscHcw55NfayW7rCLnFDekccso0zGKOOOtIC5O7U-Bx4GyFHzi0YqljnisHb9_WopAZqVKdm8wQdd7XkVV36X5UBJ8x9wz6-pK5zz-va-3dn_sqP58YcHkdAg6V/s1600/Lake.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7Zf7hKZNecNKZf44qgscHcw55NfayW7rCLnFDekccso0zGKOOOtIC5O7U-Bx4GyFHzi0YqljnisHb9_WopAZqVKdm8wQdd7XkVV36X5UBJ8x9wz6-pK5zz-va-3dn_sqP58YcHkdAg6V/s320/Lake.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513336157077320290" /></a><br />
Once over the lake it was smooth so I could get some pictures. The LZ had a bar on it, no surprise. We were all enjoying a beer when Don & Flash came back from their epic adventure. There was smile on Don’s face that won’t be coming off for awhile.<br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj62_Pvjp8FJDbNDmghXrZDnM6d38hmaea3tCAdJvZmvtEdhQVV4SGLrul0jmXg30fWIaoyaw_F_-dHfbFCyZe_Hp0lzmrFuzQSceKXFve_7Y4G0mMRosIghWVk2COtXZMgq5IukXE8m_dn/s1600/don&flash.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj62_Pvjp8FJDbNDmghXrZDnM6d38hmaea3tCAdJvZmvtEdhQVV4SGLrul0jmXg30fWIaoyaw_F_-dHfbFCyZe_Hp0lzmrFuzQSceKXFve_7Y4G0mMRosIghWVk2COtXZMgq5IukXE8m_dn/s320/don&flash.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513337294783655426" /></a><br />
I know I have not been writing many stories but internet service here has been spotty. A recap of my flights will have to be another story. I have had some awesome XC flights but have not had to use my passport yet, but I did ride the train back from my 2nd trip to Plane Joux.<br />
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It’s Time to Fly, Get Your Gear & GoThomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07508629374134042936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-51543056126484616672010-09-03T09:34:00.007+03:002010-09-10T23:32:10.923+03:00Really good pilots<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBvs11LYvnf7HDzyPAOlNkWsJKDr5DQ7hI8z7iNKq-jVgaRvMEo8HMuWeN0OEudVIGDKschauKI7Yzu9E-ryTTfJXBsBX4V412tBlmsCKLU2lOd4uBo-VHKYT0v10ul1Mksc0zxJ6yWQ/s1600/photo-791182.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBvs11LYvnf7HDzyPAOlNkWsJKDr5DQ7hI8z7iNKq-jVgaRvMEo8HMuWeN0OEudVIGDKschauKI7Yzu9E-ryTTfJXBsBX4V412tBlmsCKLU2lOd4uBo-VHKYT0v10ul1Mksc0zxJ6yWQ/s320/photo-791182.JPG" style="clear: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512572878613306098" /></a>Way too many adventures to describe in the limited blog time I have set aside at the cafe this morning. The lift starts at 8:30 and I want to get Sharky up there early for some nice morning flights. <br />
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After yesterday's morning flights, the thermal research team launched and found better lift than the previous day. Mad dog led the way out of the Chamonix valley to Plaine Joux, and Reaper and I sunk out at the last turnpoint, landing in a field with a combine harvester - a moissoneuse! It was my best XC attempt here and my first outlanding. <br />
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It seemed like we'd made the best possible effort to follow Mad Dog, as the sky was devoid of gliders while we packed up, but then three gliders gradually appeared high over the valley wall on their way to join him: Nikki, Thom, and Berndt. Words cannot describe the bittersweet feeling of watching your dearest buddies overfly you to reach your dream XC destination for the second day in a row. But maybe I can try a French word - yesterday I learned the French word for "really good pilot" is "un bâtard" - speaking in the vernacular, of course. Reaper and I caught the bus back to Chamonix and les Bâtards caught the train. <br />
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I heard Frosty and Kaaawa Larry had a brief aerial encounter involving feet in lines - pretty scary, but they detached without trouble. Then Flash finds himself downwind of the LZ and low in a brisk valley flow - we watched the incredible footage he shot with his helmet camera, as he scanned all around for landable rooftops or tiny courtyards. Implausibly, he skimmed roofs and kicked trees to slide past them all into a little field next to a pool, where there were a bunch of topless girls sunbathing. <br />
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Apparently they applauded as he zoomed in for a running downwind landing. Later a bunch of us launched from the other side of the valley to soar above Plan de l'Aiguille in strong afternoon flow, before heading over for a close inspection of the bossons glacier and turning back for an exciting landing in the turbulent strong airflow at the Bois du Bouchet LZ. Which happened to have a really cool micro brewery brasserie across the street. <br />
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About fifteen of us ended up splitting about thirty pitchers with some of our our nice new British pilot friends. Including Baz who soared for a very long time after I sunk out from Plan de l'Aiguille - another really good pilot! More adventures to come. Stay tuned.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-72272078218921182672010-09-02T09:12:00.006+03:002010-09-10T23:33:55.267+03:00Presidents Log: Sept 1st<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbxtfSdOxAQl0He_B3_mXdExj50tPemFLrCA1bEgR8XfmVBbDB8uH11YaDaB3S8OifSoDOrEfVyVXtIinh7gqg8tK02JtKlsRIhMLj2UFX-w8jGgHOucE5Juc_7rp1SsQBNoaTLNman0/s1600/photo-759885.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbxtfSdOxAQl0He_B3_mXdExj50tPemFLrCA1bEgR8XfmVBbDB8uH11YaDaB3S8OifSoDOrEfVyVXtIinh7gqg8tK02JtKlsRIhMLj2UFX-w8jGgHOucE5Juc_7rp1SsQBNoaTLNman0/s320/photo-759885.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512196929713699794" /></a>Nikki and I arrived together in Geneva and caught our private shuttle into Chamonix by 9:45 am, in time to catch the lift up for the 1st thermal flights of the day. The sled run stragglers were just landing. <br />
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The conditions the day before we arrived were unstable because of the low pressure, which is not typical for this time of year. Those monkeys who managed those sweet XC flights that day didn't realize how lucky they were - I've always dreamed of making that flight. But of course now that I'm here, we're back to the regular stable high pressure regime. As they always say: you should have been here yesterday!<br />
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The stable conditions made the thermaling quite a challenge for my 1st day. I flew for maybe an hour but could never fight my way much higher than launch. Everyone else had similar experiences, except for Mad Dog who stuck with it and clawed his way up and above the inversion to find bounteous lift. Enough to repeat the previous day's XC flight to Plaine Joux! How does he do it?? I gotta try and stick closer to him next time.<br />
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We drove out to fly at Plaine Joux with Mad Dog in the afternoon, where we again struggled to get up in the stable conditions. It was fun trying though, and we managed about an hour of airtime. Reaper took some folks to Annecy for the afternoon and they had some great soaring flights there.<br />
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After many beers from the bar at the LZ, we came back to Chamonix for showers and a nice dinner at La Taverne, a very cool restaurant downtown. After way too many bottles of Cote du Rhone we called it a night. What an amazing place this is - the mountains are truly indescribable. Hopefully we can get some more pictures up here soon!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-87326929337021824732010-09-01T16:10:00.006+03:002010-09-10T23:27:10.206+03:00Quatre Traine a Plane Joux<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaB0nB5gd1-9fFSYMwN6Gr62mbXTrWpQomnVrbmDqHaPlkBAHUA6btgnIUhhyphenhyphenVmhRT_rNq5MASc0_W_lsvdnCt7ONRUzuxXjVoHKlqgw8aOgwo8WuAN2JBsCFvOeJgs-dr1UXbuyx1k_r0/s1600/onwaytoplanjoux.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaB0nB5gd1-9fFSYMwN6Gr62mbXTrWpQomnVrbmDqHaPlkBAHUA6btgnIUhhyphenhyphenVmhRT_rNq5MASc0_W_lsvdnCt7ONRUzuxXjVoHKlqgw8aOgwo8WuAN2JBsCFvOeJgs-dr1UXbuyx1k_r0/s320/onwaytoplanjoux.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513333100182663730" /></a>This story starts in Chamonix on a morning of the bluest skies and clearest views. Today I put my passport in the flight deck. The Monkeys anxiously all clamored to the Brevent. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. Mad Dog helped Larry, Mack and Sharky off. Sharky got his first flight on his new lady over Chamonix Valley.<br />
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Duck and Frosty, aka Big Island John, were next to launch just as the thermals were starting to kick in and launch was getting crowded. Ike, Mad Dog and I launched into the Chamonix Rodeo and it was a ride up that made doing sit-ups a thing of the past.<br />
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We pretty much hung together and had our ups & downs. Don headed up valley and Mad Dog followed him but of course Mad Dog was on top, for most of the time. They got further up valley than I did and came back to Brevant, this was the only time I saw the top of Mad Dog’s wing.<br />
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We benched up and I hit a new record high of 7548’. Mad Dog made the call “Going down valley, see where I will end up”. He never really got a response from Don or I because our hands were always busy. <br />
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There were some big ups and then downs as we jumped from thermal to thermal. We could here play by plays from Duck on the landings of Larry, Mack and Sharky. Frosty was MIA but not for long, We spotted him below us, bare legs as we reached the last peak of Chamonix Valley. Mad Dog, well he was on top, made the call, “I am heading to Plane Joux”. With his bad back could not twist to search for the rest of us who were close bellow his tail. <br />
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This was the last place to bench up and there were several parapentes scratching, but only 4 left to head towards Plane Joux. Ike & I flew into some wispy clouds knowing we were going to be on glide and followed Mad Dog. Frosty left but he was a little lower.<br />
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We were now on glide, very comfortable; I was finally able to get on the radio to inform Mad Dog that I was with him. Ike & Frosty chirped in as well. Mad Dog asked “Has anybody taking pictures.” I got my camera out but it was frozen, hit a low temperature of 39 degrees and I guess it could not take it. <br />
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While on glide, I was finally able to look around and enjoy the view. Wow, this place is huge and for once I started to actually appreciate the snow capped views until my fingers started to get numb.<br />
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It was a great glide. We were able to talk a little and watch Frosty head over to another ridge to try to get some lift because he was lower than us. Suddenly a familiar voice chirped in, “Reaper here where are you guys.” Someone informed him that the four of us were crossing from Chamonix heading to Plane Joux. Reaper said he would be at the LZ if anyone landed and needed a ride back up. It was oddly comforting to hear his voice as I remembered him radioing to me as he drove along side me on my first Bay Crossing.<br />
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Well we didn’t need a pick up at the LZ because 3 of us top landed at Plane Joux to enjoy a glass of wine and an awesome celebratory meal. While we were sitting at the table Frosty came in, he had a low save out front and said he had to grab some goat farts to get up.<br />
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Reaper, Bonnie and Flash soon joined us at the table followed by Duck, Larry, Mack, and Sharky on launch. We now had a start of the Hawaii take over as a Barrel of Monkeys took over the launch pad.<br />
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Plane Joux is becoming the favorite site most likely due to the bar at launch as well as on the LZ. We all landed at the LZ except for Don and Mad Dog who top landed to bring down the vehicles. Don and Mad Dog later stated “Wow that was a great couple of flights, but we never made it to an LZ.” I think that was a brag, but I was still glowing from my first XC here in France.<br />
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It’s Time to Fly Get Your Gear and Go!!!!!!!!<br />
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<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUu7fhcqXqwkFU8i9RmB2Q8sU0xh9zjsfXaepqWSTAH52kSgxLQm7vVtDfw4iJ2pQ9ML2pfvDgpULfvmxkd90Fnt2VqS32DDETCRJs32Es0XDGe8w0-Wv_ALaPWZjyHLizKpUECyOegUgD/s1600/3+of+the+4.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUu7fhcqXqwkFU8i9RmB2Q8sU0xh9zjsfXaepqWSTAH52kSgxLQm7vVtDfw4iJ2pQ9ML2pfvDgpULfvmxkd90Fnt2VqS32DDETCRJs32Es0XDGe8w0-Wv_ALaPWZjyHLizKpUECyOegUgD/s320/3+of+the+4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513333950390304098" /></a><br />
missing from picture: FrostyThomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07508629374134042936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-36312628123135191732010-09-01T15:56:00.005+03:002010-09-10T23:29:36.231+03:00OMG<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjKUnnbtKHUJ8KLk6sHnD8t6eHx7PoGyZvGYu_df32MuXa-6vowHDwzO4c-roAyCthzsicYM2yV-z0A-r8uvVnxbPAPcpKRcv1WVRuMRhhtE9kRmgXlsX1rgPU-2KA_ScmY8s0Aw7WXU7/s1600/thom+in+monkey+suit.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjKUnnbtKHUJ8KLk6sHnD8t6eHx7PoGyZvGYu_df32MuXa-6vowHDwzO4c-roAyCthzsicYM2yV-z0A-r8uvVnxbPAPcpKRcv1WVRuMRhhtE9kRmgXlsX1rgPU-2KA_ScmY8s0Aw7WXU7/s320/thom+in+monkey+suit.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511929126956174882" /></a>The title is of short text form because Don was suppose to write this flight log, seeing as Alex is not yet here to carry on the President’s Log. But we all know Ike is a pilot of few words … ah, typed words, that is.<br />
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Saturday arrivals were Duck & Ginger, Sharky, Larry & Adriana, Big Island John and finally Donna & Sidehill. Ike & Yolie and Mad Dog and Jeanine were already here for a few days. This day was a day to catch up on jet lag. A few even fell asleep at the table during dinner.<br />
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Sunday I woke fairly early and stood out on the lanai, cloud base very low and it was nippy. We made breakfast and during this time the weather started to clear. The next trip on to the lanai revealed the Chamonix Mountains and the infamous Mt. Blanc. I can not write the words to describe this vista hopefully we will have enough pictures but even those will not capture this area’s magnificence.<br />
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The monkeys started to chirp on the coconut wireless and planned to gather at the Brevant lifts around 9ish. Note: Ike wants to motion that we put a lift in at Kahana. I met a Brit pilot at the lift and apparently he knows one of the Monkeys to come. “You have a crazy guy, a fireman” He said, I replied “Oh, ya Fireman Dave, he gets here around the 5th”. The Brit said “Buggers, I have to leave on the 4th, tell him I said Hi and will be out to visit him one of these days” (sorry Dave I think his name was Biz or something, but Donna got a picture of him leaking at launch).<br />
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Big Island John has no problem going first. He was already flying around us while Ike, Yolie, Donna and I were on the lift. He buzzed over us and he was wearing shorts. Yes, shorts and his only comment was that he needed warmer gloves. I thought this is hopeful because I really don’t like cold.<br />
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When Ike & I got to launch we found Mad Dog, our injured guide, laid out, “I thought your back was killing you” Mad Dog replied that Sharky had graciously volunteered to carry his gear. Oh, Mad Dog hurt his back somehow just before getting on the plane earlier this week and was not planning to fly. Carrying his gear was bad but sitting in the harness was ok, so big kudos to Sharky for being a Sherpa. After 2 tries Mad Dog got sucked up off the grassy launch and off he flew.<br />
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Duck took off from the other side, Ike and I laid out and were shortly in the air. It was cold but I was bundled from head to toe. The thermals had not quite organized yet but for most of us it was the best extended sled ride ever. Now I did say most of us, one pilot, Mad Dog, had to stay up for ever and got super high.<br />
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The LZ was a huge grassy field with parapentes all over. We all landed and folded up and someone mentioned “Hey no sand in my wing, awesome”. Smiling monkeys all left the LZ to have lunch of begets, cheese and wine. <br />
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The afternoon session we piled into the Duck Tour bus and headed for Plaine Joux. This is where we all got some air, big air that is.<br />
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Big Island John again was the first to launch but at least this time he was dressed, he put on warmer gloves. Mad Dog and Ike launched then Duck and lastly Sidehill. Sharky elected not to fly yet till he had acquired more gear. Donna & Yolie were very grateful because they did not want to drive down from this launch. <br />
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While I was lying out, Mad Dog announced over the Radio “Some one landed behind launch on the ski slopes, hope it was not one of ours”. Shortly a response “Yah, It was me” Duck replied. Yes he was the first and only to top land of sorts. He quickly relaunched to join the gaggle of parapentes. <br />
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This place is huge. Ike’s goal was to reach the ridge face above and behind launch. He has had several flights here before and had never gotten up to the face. Well, today was the day - it was the day for all of us.<br />
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The thermals were rowdy down low but once well over tree line they were, well, just so much fun. We all got high and of course Mad Dog got the highest and disappeared around the corner. Ike & I were the closets to watch his Torque fade away. Just a note that will only make sense to Gene and Sammy on the Big Island, I got to see a lot of the top of Ike’s wing. I reached a personal record of 7398’ for an hour and half flight. Of course we started at 4500’ but you had to earn the elevation.<br />
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Big Island John was easy to spot, shorts, the only one; even the locals here gave him strange looks. He was soaring near the ridge and a huge eagle soared next to him. Apparently the eagle thought his attire was quite odd as well and gave him a good loud screech that I could hear from a ways behind him. He then headed across the valley to the other side just to see what was there and landed shortly after.<br />
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When time came to land I found some new skills that I need develop. How do you come down to an LZ that is like an air hockey rink? It was awesome at first, kind of like soaring the trees at KNA but with out those dam trees catching your lines, that was for Joey. But when I wanted to go down I couldn’t. My little wing overs that I had been practicing just were not cutting it. A few spirals did not drop me enough. I had tried big ears earlier because I watched other pilots use this to get down. Mad Dog had come all the way back from Never Never Land and landed before me. I was next with Ike and Duck on my trail. Finally I started some more wing overs that I thought were too close to the ground but apparently not and finally landed with Don & Duck on my heals. <br />
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Sharky chauffeured Donna & Yolie down from launch and I am sure there is a story about that. These roads are narrow twisting and these people are Indy drivers, well most of them we did get stuck behind one Hawaii driver on the way up that jammed up everything for a bit.<br />
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I had my first LZ beer and then a 2nd and then a 3rd when I brought all the glasses back to the bar across the street. The bartender is also a parapente. I informed him of the conclave of monkeys that were going to invade, so stock up. He said he looked forward to flying with us later this week. Yup, bar on the LZ no wonder Reaper likes it here so much, actually should not have singled him out all the monkeys would love this place.<br />
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It’s Time to Fly Get Your Gear & Go!!!!!!Thomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07508629374134042936noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-75575845646782769092010-08-31T15:08:00.003+03:002010-08-31T18:54:39.029+03:00Snoballz Report: Chamonix, Aug. 30No flying today. High clouds heading south with waves in them came lower, I guess, and messed everything up after morning raininess down low.<br />
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Bought a serious ski jacket-- for 29 euro. The ultras are gone. Also got some glove liners and expedition quality socks. I then immediately put them to very good use.<br />
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We all went up the highest gondola in the world, basically following Mad Dog. It was spectacular. I kept saying "wow!". It was very foggy and the precipitous drop-offs went into cloudy nothingness.<br />
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Just after disembarking at the top, we walked across a bridge surrounded by fog and then into caves. Sharky and I found some beers, cold of course, and then proceeded to view points surrounded by that spectacular cloudy nothingness, with momentary breaks in the clouds revealing other view points, the summit, and little groups of cramponed and leashed together hikers far below. I made my first snow angel in years. I think Side Hill got envious. Duck claims to have a video that would end any political carreer I might consider. We saw a group of hikers depart from one of the caves onto an ice causeway path a couple of feet thick with thousand foot drop-offs on both sides. Not sure about that-- you couldn't see the bottom either way. We saw another group of three come in. Wonder how they passed each other?<br />
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My roomie Larry showed up and I got him oriented. This morning I shared some French coffee with him and he gave me diabetes. The baked goods around here are pretty good.<br />
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This early morning, the valley winds took light fog down valley. The peaks are clear and there are diddly squat for high clouds and certainly no waves. It is going to be a good day to fly :)<br />
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Aloha,<br />
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JohnUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-65896470551210491422010-08-31T06:11:00.003+03:002010-08-31T06:17:30.290+03:00Chamonix t-shirt<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUG2iegLyDOMv8dQUiKP8RN6zQ4f0fFBdNjQKHT2LTUNo3kBHxSMocB-zTJlj7I-zJRjYHh5zlW4XSNnYCIHP2o447iQRxbZxy_U1ZgxiPGe9RMrk8IytI-1uxRGIu8H8Jnl1nCSFqjM/s1600/photo-776321.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="200" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511406730393972002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUG2iegLyDOMv8dQUiKP8RN6zQ4f0fFBdNjQKHT2LTUNo3kBHxSMocB-zTJlj7I-zJRjYHh5zlW4XSNnYCIHP2o447iQRxbZxy_U1ZgxiPGe9RMrk8IytI-1uxRGIu8H8Jnl1nCSFqjM/s200/photo-776321.JPG" width="149" /></a></div>Sharky got me all fired up to design and print a shirt for the trip while I was here trying to catch up on work in DC. What a crazy idea, right? Yeah, well, I guess I'm just crazy like that. Not sure yet if I have room or weight allowance for all 20 of these bad boys on the flight to France, but I'm hoping to fit them in - that way I should have lots of room for French goodies on the return trip!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-84589533996417701762010-08-30T15:21:00.005+03:002010-08-31T18:55:03.469+03:00Snowball Report: Chamonix, Aug. 28 & 29Nice 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Before passing out, Mad Dog showed me the LZ. Excellent bread, delicious wine, stolen toilet paper, very hot bath, and a ten hour nap.<br />
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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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Aloha Nui Loa,<br />
<br />
John, aka whatever is French for "Frosty Balls", being the only pilot with enough sense to fly wearing shortsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-65077548284143195332010-08-26T11:45:00.002+03:002010-08-26T13:46:55.912+03:00The Chamonix Song<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4we8_htkC3F4Hvx5T95zlLG9tUYx7cwa82Dw53l0NPL_e686_tzZeIa0rMaVCZ3m9Iv8FaEL250T5p19PwV7PvvYj0kU2ckg4k8bPHuNC4RpnuUeht1MCmBwzwkd9M7W7TCsJkCA9MVM/s1600/parapente-planpraz-hd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4we8_htkC3F4Hvx5T95zlLG9tUYx7cwa82Dw53l0NPL_e686_tzZeIa0rMaVCZ3m9Iv8FaEL250T5p19PwV7PvvYj0kU2ckg4k8bPHuNC4RpnuUeht1MCmBwzwkd9M7W7TCsJkCA9MVM/s220/parapente-planpraz-hd.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>This song is set to the tune of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" by John Denver. Kinda get it in your head while reading it. Every great trip deserves a theme song!<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
All my bags are packed I'm ready to go<br />
Not really looking forward to flying in snow<br />
I hate the long flights when I am not in control<br />
But the dawn will be breakin' it'll be early morn<br />
The car'll be outside and Ike blowin' his horn<br />
Already I'm so anxious, but I have a mountain money roll<br />
<br />
So it is time to fly get your gear and go<br />
I am bundled up from head to toe<br />
Cause I'm flying the Alps of Chamonix<br />
Packed my passport and some Euros just in case <br />
Oh, where I'll LZ … I will never know<br />
<br />
There's so many monkey's in this town<br />
So if you haven’t made it here, don’t be down<br />
I will tell you stories of all the thrills<br />
Every place I fly, I'll fly for you<br />
Every beer I drink, I'll take a sip for you<br />
When I come back I will bring you all my bills<br />
<br />
So its time to fly get your gear and go<br />
I'll land near a pub if I'm getting low<br />
Glass off and XC flights are the plans<br />
Cause I'm flying the Alps of Chamonix<br />
With grassy launches and pubs on the LZ<br />
Oh monkeys, I hate to go<br />
<br />
Guitar Solo<br />
<br />
Now I am, on the ground gotta go shopping with my wife<br />
There are paragliding stores here, oh what a life<br />
Close your eyes and read the stories<br />
I've dreamed of these days that have finally come<br />
Please read our tales cause this song is almost done<br />
<br />
So its time to fly get your gear and go<br />
We are going to be here a while so send some dough<br />
Keep our visitors happy and fly real safe<br />
Cause I'm flying the Alps of Chamonix<br />
Don't know when I'll be back again<br />
Oh monkeys, I hate to go<br />
<br />
So fly for me and I'll fly for you<br />
I hope the stories will be mostly true<br />
But you never know with the Reaper in tow<br />
Where these stories will ever go!!!!<br />
<br />
Cause It's Time to Fly Get Your Gear and GO !!Thomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07508629374134042936noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-17266073809154687632010-08-24T07:15:00.002+03:002010-08-24T07:19:10.276+03:00Leaving Hawaii<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Cf_V76rAtW4x37WZnw6xg3WwntHoEIYQ-QK_dJigygSzaYwh-hR423JXVUhsYMY1WZgwH4PBjdYu8DcWxPj0gLsCqPS_o_FATJC3vxYvTWIbQH6yUG-KvGYuNNhzSXGkr9SbjMbfO8Q/s1600/photo-733537.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="148" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508825713872448866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Cf_V76rAtW4x37WZnw6xg3WwntHoEIYQ-QK_dJigygSzaYwh-hR423JXVUhsYMY1WZgwH4PBjdYu8DcWxPj0gLsCqPS_o_FATJC3vxYvTWIbQH6yUG-KvGYuNNhzSXGkr9SbjMbfO8Q/s200/photo-733537.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I was the first to leave - and I'll be a late arrival in Chamonix but not the last. I took a picture as I passed over the neighbor islands. It was the best view of the neighbor islands I've ever seen from a plane. Molokai looks nice and flyable...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-77025796761408739772010-08-24T04:40:00.000+03:002010-08-24T04:42:31.958+03:00ChamonixCan't wait-----totally stoked !!!Larry Mchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15874517733315643910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1211325732678451584.post-63287611074380645492010-08-24T03:41:00.000+03:002010-08-24T06:22:42.060+03:00Yet another travel blog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mad_dog_hawaii/sets/72157624388110076/show/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1067/4733607943_25d9173d8f_m.jpg" /></a></div>This Chamonix blog is a place for the Hawaii monkeys who are going to Chamonix and other parts of Europe this fall to post updates, stories and pictures, so we don't clutter up Wind Lines with our crazy euro monkey business. I will try to invite all the travelers to this blog, but if I leave you out, or if you forget how to post, let me know and I'll set you up. See you all on September 1st!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3