WRE 2011 - Zapata, Texas

THE END: Nine Years of Mesquite, Hurricanes, and, All Too Seldom, Fabulous Flying

2011-07-07T17:19:00.002-05:00

Everyone else is gone and I am sitting with a beer looking out at Falcon Lake (Come for the jet-skiing, stay for the funeral) contemplating the likely end of a bitter-sweet piece of personal history. Nine years ago I first came to Zapata at David Glover’s urging. My objective was to set a world record, ideally “the” world record, the sport’s absolute distance record. Previously I had already invested five wonderful summers in Rock Springs,WY pursuing the record. But in 2001 Manfred Ruhmer blew out Larry Tudor’s existing 308 mile record set from Rock Springs. With that, I realized that it had become essentially impossible to break Manfred’s new 435 mile record in Rock Springs, and that if I were serious about record hunting I would have to go to Zapata to do it.

So, the following year, 2002, I began what was to become an enduring love-hate relationship with this place; a relationship that began astonishingly well. Within a week of arriving, Mike Barber and I had made a couple of quick “training” flights of 125 and 160 miles to get the lay of the land. To round out a pleasant week’s flying we then jointly set the declared-distance-to-goal record of 321 miles. Wisely, Mike kept going, flying 438 miles and informally breaking Manfred’s record. Half an hour slower, and behind Mike, I opted to land at our declared goal of Big Lake, Texas. Before launching we had been assured that the day only rated a “5” on a scale of one to ten. In the coming month we were sure to see another three or four days with conditions at least that good. Assuming that this was an only moderately good Zapata day, I thought it would be the coolest damn thing to land my hang glider 321 miles away, at a point declared to be my destination nine hours before.

Charlie Averitt

It was indeed the finest thing I have ever accomplished. Nonetheless, I have seldom regretted a decision as I do the one to land. Nine years later only one other person has even come close to breaking Mike’s record, Dustin Martin who went 410 miles three years ago. After our astonishing flights that year it began to rain. It rained in an environment where Gary Osoba’s meteorological research indicated that we should experience essentially no rain during the months of our interest. But history be damned, it rained; rained hard and often. Indeed an early hurricane put an end to that year’s campaign.

And so it has gone over the intervening years. A changing cast of characters has rotated through Zapata flying a variety of gliders. Many were world class competition pilots (Manfred, Mike Barber, Dustin, Alex Ploner, Jonny Durand, Bo Hagewood, and Paris Williams, to name some) while others were weekend warriors with dreams. We flew a variety of gliders: flex wings, rigids, Falcons, and Swifts, and, briefly, paragliders. Our guiding genius brought a succession of, first, ultralight sailplanes (which he kindly let me fly) and ultimately the uniquely heavy Gemini with which he set this year’s record. For a short while we flirted with towing from a dirt strip built for us on a local banker’s property twenty miles northeast of the airport. The objective was to give us a starting point further east to ease the basic early morning tactical problem of getting around Laredo’s airspace. Several pilots set triangle records (itself an indication that the winds were too light to go for the big distance), and several Swift and sailplane records went down. But the big conditions never returned in their entirety.

The Zapata Basics

Through it all there was several constants. Perhaps obviously, there was the airport. But much more importantly, there was, and is, Charlie Averitt the airport’s manager

Russell Brown - Quest Air, Florida

and in a very real sense our host in Zapata. The consummate aviator, Charlie has essentially placed his airport at our disposal for weeks at a time, allowing us to use his hangar for the tug and all manner of gliders that we’ve brought here. His kindness and concern for our quixotic quest has been touching, and without him I am not sure the WRE would have either happened or endured. Then there are the tugs and tug pilots. First among equals is Russell Brown

who has towed us for countless years, and provided tugs for the ones when he wasn’t here. Steve Kroop for years also provided a tug (and was foolish enough to let me ferry it across four hundred miles of desert), while we had a host of excellent, indeed world class, tug pilots: Rhett Radford, Wiley, Bo Hagewood, and Armand.

Another constant is Gary Osoba, whose extraordinary

understanding of the macro-meteorological aspects of cross country soaring provided the insight which unlocked Zapata’s unique potential. Ironically, the key to Zapata’s long distance potential lies in the consistent southerly wind that reaches from the Gulf of Mexico up into eastern Wyoming. It is precisely that southerly air flow in Wyoming that had blocked our record attempts from Rock Springs, over eleven hundred miles away. But I digress.

Davis Straub - OzReport.com

Davis Straub too has been in Zapata every year. He simply loves coming (although I am not sure the same can be said for Belinda) and he has accumulated a boatload of

formal and informal records here. Jokingly, I ascribe to Davis the role of dark counterpoint to Gary’s optimistic daily weather forecasts. David Glover too has been here for the bulk of the campaign, filling a more amorphous role that combined driver, ringmaster and entertainment director.

Drivers

Just as tugs and pilots are essential, we simply could not fly over this country without dedicated and skilled drivers. Some pilots have indeed come here without a personal driver, but they have often paid a terrible price for it in extremely long retrieves from extremely long flights. No one has died, but there have been some near misses and horrible retrieves (Of course, there were good retrieves too: Rick Walker picked-up Jamie Shelden and her glider with a helicopter). Anyone who’s been serious about going far has been compelled to come up with a driver. But even then, there are drivers, and there are drivers. One infamous driver drove out some 250 miles, lost contact with her pilot and then drove home, leaving him out there on his own.

Gary helping me launch.

However, I have been blessed with two extraordinarily good drivers who combined the necessary intelligence, technical skills, and devotion to guarantee that I would get picked up no matter where I landed. Drew Holupka drove the most years (and had driven in Wyoming as well), and he had the worst of it. He experienced the nastiest weather as well as the worst of the evil mesquite walk-out retrieves while I learned my piloting trade. Once I became a better pilot, the bad retrieves diminished. But Drew was there for the early ones. Fortunately, Drew also experienced the finest of all retrieves: he was there within minutes when I landed at my Big Lake record goal, after which we drove on to pick up Mikey Barber at 438 miles. Those are literally world record retrieves.

My other driver was and is David Glover. In some respects it is nothing more than fitting that he got stuck driving for me as he is the individual who talked me into coming to Zapata in the first place. And David has proven to be every bit as good as Drew. However rooming with him is quite different as his tv watching tends towards Stephen Colbert and the Daily Show, while Drew and I watched the Tour de France and Maria Sharapova’s legs at Wimbledon. They may differ in style, but I have been exceptionally lucky to have two such friends willing to help me strive for my life’s dream…as well as being willing to help hike out my glider in hundred degree temperatures.

Weather

Perhaps the most constant presence at the WRE has been the weather and our obsessive attention to it. Perhaps better said, the weather has been the most inconstant presence. Obviously, the historic weather patterns are the reason we have continued to come to Zapata, and also the basis for the extraordinary number of records set here. But at the same time its maddeningly erratic behavior has provided the absolutely worst aspects of the Zapata experience. We have literally seen the desert cactus bloom. We have seen the prevailing winds reverse themselves, or simply stop blowing (good for triangle records, I concede). But we have all too seldom seen the weather provide all of the necessary constituent parts we require to set distance records.

The enormous scale of what we are attempting requires an extraordinary number of individual weather features to be simultaneously present over a vast area. We need morning Gulf moisture to produce the remarkably solid and reliable cloud streets that provide usable thermal conditions at 9:30 in the morning. We need a southeasterly wind direction that on the one hand brings in the moist air, but one that is not too easterly and driving us into Mexico. And that wind must continue for over five hundred miles with both a consistent direction and velocity. We also need cumulus clouds that continue over the entire distance. It is not enough that we have the morning overrunning clouds for a good start. We need them to become conventional cumulus clouds towards noon, and then they must improve as we continue northward. The climb rates must increase, and, critically, cloud base must continually rise for two reasons. Until cloud base rises significantly above the mesquite country it is impossible to fly very fast. Otherwise, we must fly too cautiously. And once one has left the mesquite plains behind, one hundred and fifty miles from the start, it becomes essential that the clouds continue to rise as one gets up onto the Edwards Plateau. For it is there, late in the day, that we can fly fastest. High clouds coupled with high winds and the presence of evening convergence clouds allow one to move extraordinarily quickly in the final hours before landing. Finally, this all must continue until half an hour past sunset, the legal limit of our latest landing time. Mike Barber’s unofficial record flight took eleven hours, and he needed every damn minute of it. I am occasionally still astonished by the audacity of what we attempt, and have achieved, here.

Throwing Chicken Bones and Checking Chicken Entrails, or Weather Forecasting

If the weather itself has been a constant, so too has been our obsessive daily preoccupation with forecasts, short- and long-term. I like to say that I just look out the window in the morning to see if the over-running is happening, but the truth is that Gary and Davis’ often contradictory insights are an invaluable part of my daily decision-making matrix. But sometimes I just have to walk away with fingers in my ears.

Tourists

An early constant at the WRE was the presence of what we perhaps arrogantly referred to as tourists. The dramatic early successes from Zapata created the misleading impression that it was “easy” to fly far from Zapata; that two hundred mile flights were low hanging fruit below mesquite trees. This resulted in an early surge of interest in participation by good local club pilots. During my first few years there were a considerable number of club pilots who had succumbed to the malign lure of Zapata. Very, very few of them had particularly good flights; indeed many never really left the hangar, and some experienced only short flights and nightmarish retrieves. WRE organizer Gary Osoba was placed in a quandary. On the one hand he needed a certain number of pilots to attend and help defray the considerable fixed costs of the project. On the other hand, it would be irresponsible to invite the participation of individuals who at best would not have fun, and, at worst, would be at risk flying in this unforgiving environment. In the end, stories of Zapata’s difficulties spread to deter the participation of almost all tourists. However, while that was good for safety, it rendered the WRE finances tenuous. There were years where little more than Davis, Robin Hamilton and I really flew. Zapata is a place that requires a unique mix of skill, attitude and opportunity, and at the risk of being elitist, that combination is a rare commodity.

The School of Zapata

I don't know why I'm smiling.

Finally, as I contemplate leaving Zapata, never to return, I am compelled to reflect upon its effect on me. Simply put, the experience has made me a much better pilot. Zapata’s principle limitation, the weak morning lift drifting across highly undesirable country, has taught me a patience and focus I never had before. Zapata’s reliability has taught me that you simply don’t have to give up until your feet hit the ground (or until you’re going to have to land in the mesquite). Zapata’s grand scale has allowed me to dream beyond previous boundaries. Most pilots have difficulty imagining a flight of more than five miles beyond their present position. Flying in Zapata teaches one to think not in tens, but hundreds of miles. My longest flight this year was a bit short of two hundred miles; but that was little more than half of the day’s declared goal. Most pilots can’t imagine doing it, but that is precisely what is routinely attempted down here. The scope of what we have attempted teaches patience on a grand scale. An hour’s groveling low under a temporary cirrus deck is merely a brief interruption in a long flight. It has given me something very special, the skills and outlook of a strategic pilot. I see beyond the horizon, and believe I can get there.

The End

While the Zapata experience may be trying at times, it has nonetheless also provided me with the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything. And, with all due respect to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, it is not 42. It is,

Cornswoggled

Going Out With a Whimper and One Big Bang

2011-07-04T23:16:00.014-05:00

The Blob above the bed.

Since last writing, the rains have come and gone…and come again. And gone too are many of our inbred little family. The first to depart were the Brazilians, followed by Robin Hamilton and his Swift heading for Luling where they were, I believe, again frustrated by the weather. The Brazilian exit occurred in a suitably Zapataesque fashion. Very early in the morning Moikano was awakened as the bunkhouse’s ceiling above him collapsed under the weight of accumulated rainwater, dumping gallons of water and ceiling material on him. We really don’t make this stuff up. Adios, Zapata.

Gary’s Two-Place Record

Elsie - Pete's new friend.

Next to leave, in a rather more pleasantly exciting manner, were Gary and Christine Osoba. On Saturday morning a manic Gary awoke to stir up the lethargic survivors of a night at Club de Belinda. Running out of time, and seeing an opportunity to break the US two-place free distance sailplane record, he was frantically scurrying around trying to line up last minute arrangements to get the sailplane launched and (eventually) retrieved somewhere in far north Texas (Thanks Sam Kellner).

The Mesquite - It's Everywhere

As the previous days’ rains had drenched the first fifty miles of Gary’s proposed route north from Zapata, he planned to have Russell tow him as high as the NAA/FAI rules would allow. After climbing past early cumies at 3,000 msl near the airport and releasing at 5,900 msl some 25 miles north of Zapata Gary glided north with the 42:1 glide and a tailwind. This northerly release point was intended to enable him to glide beyond Laredo to a point where he could find lift under clouds over presumably dry land. So far, so good. Unfortunately, upon descending below the northern clouds it was discovered that cloud base was only some 2,500 ft above the lovely mesquite. And while there are quite a number of paved private airports strung out along the highway, it was an uncomfortably low maximum altitude in which to find oneself with a sixty foot wingspan sailplane.

Gemini on the Runway in Zapata.

However, conditions slowly improved as they approached the northern end of the plains.. Some one hundred fifty miles out from Zapata they entered the broken Hill Country (which rises to about 2,500 msl), and were still only barely getting to an uncomfortably low 5,000 msl as they drove into that intimidating wilderness. Fortunately, altitudes increased in lock step with the rising terrain as they pushed uphill. Once atop the Edwards Plateau conditions steadily improved, and then really turned on fifty miles southeast of Big Spring with climbs averaging about 700 fpm. Finally getting high (eventually to 10,700msl), they had a fast run up to and past Lubbock towards Amarillo. There at 6:45, after an excellent last climb averaging 670 fpm, things abruptly again became difficult. The late day problem was extensive shadowing from high cunims blowing up to the west and northwest in Colorado. From 10,600 msl he began an ultimately 50 mile long final glide. At the end Gary found, but abandoned, a weak final climb that was drifting them into the prohibited airspace over Amarillo’s Pantex nuclear weapons factory before landing just west of Panhandle, TX after over nine hours in the air. The flight represents an unofficial new national record of some 597 miles from Zapata. Congratulations are in order for a very nervy flight accomplished in mediocre conditions. And particular congratulations are in order for Christine for enduring it. Gary reports that at some point she turned to him and said that “I ought to grab you and force you to go shopping for twelve hours”. A bit extreme perhaps, but one understands the sentiment.

We Fly Again in Zapata

With Gary and Christine gone, we are now down to the hard core, or as Mike Barber says, those “too stupid to stop”: Davis, Mike and myself with our respective drivers and Russell to pull us up. To emphasize our folly, we had once again been rained upon the previous night, and the radar had shown considerable precipitation north of the airport en route towards Laredo. With that in mind we hesitantly went out to the airport with no great expectations. But Zapata can also provide pleasant surprises, and cumulus clouds soon began to form and line up into the characteristic streets. And despite my wariness, the clouds looked like they ought to have lift under them. Russell then took up the tug, returning to report good lift below a cloud base already at 2,400 agl.

With our gliders already set up in the hangar, it didn’t take us long to begin moving. I followed a hyper Mikey out to the runway (temporarily stopping the flight ops of the local radio control model club’s gigantic 1/3 scale planes) and we quickly readied ourselves to go. Just before eleven Mike launched, followed by me, while the performance challenged Davis eventually chose not to launch.

Our near daily dining spot - The Steak House

Just as Russell had reported, the lift was surprisingly good, and cloud base was already a comfortable 2,900 agl when I pinned off tow. With Mike in the lead we headed north under increasingly consistent clouds. Consistent, that is, until I missed a couple of climbs and was down to 663 feet over the damn mesquite far from a friggin’ road. After almost fifteen minutes of yo-yo scratching I finally began a solid climb to base. Conditions then became pretty straightforward and, now well behind Mike, we both headed north along US 83 under the improving clouds. With a light tailwind and the late start it was apparent we were not going to be setting any records, so after sixty-six miles Mike landed in a good lz and reported that to his surprise he had landed on his feet.

Barogram of Pete's flight - low save early, below 700' for 15 minutes

Knowing that we are running out of time in this paradise, and not wanting to squander my good low save, I decided to keep going and see what would happen. The winds were light, but the clouds were becoming increasingly good so I headed north for Uvalde, hoping to get past there to Leakey for about 200 miles. In the end, after getting to 8,700 msl,, but with the clouds drying up I missed a final climb and landed in a beautiful field north of Uvalde for 165 miles (IGC file). The landing was a perfect one-stepper which was good because I had forgotten to bandage my leg before flying, and six hours of friction had rubbed the wound raw before gluing it to my shorts. You can imagine what happened when I unzipped the harness and exercised my legs.

David arrived within minutes, and after fetching dressings for the leg, we hurried back to Zapata, arriving in time get dinner at The Steak House, the semi-official WRE cafeteria.

Pete with Ms. Pre-Teen Falcon Lake runner up

Independence Day, and Delusions of Freedom

After the previous evening’s downpour, we today decided to bag flying, with Davis going one step further. Unable to resist the lure of Austin nightlife, he broke down his glider and began preparations for departing for there tomorrow morning. That will leave only Mike and me; and tug driver Russell will be leaving on Wednesday. It would appear that we are about done for this year.

But of course Faye, a retired 747 pilot, is also a rated tug pilot in what she refers to as our “flying lawn chairs”. And Robin Hamilton has called to assure us that the weather really, truly is again resetting after the prolonged interruption occasioned by Tropical Storm Arlene. All we need to do, he promises, is to hang on until the weekend when things will be back to what passes for normal in the twilight zone that is Zapata.

Stay tuned…the zombie lives.

Slow going...but

2011-07-03T13:54:00.002-05:00

Pete at The Zapata Texas Welcome Mural

Pete and Mike chose to fly, Davis less enthusiastic on the single surface. Russell went up in the tug and reported 400-600fpm lift at 2500+ cloudbase. Late start but climbs and cloudbase made them feel comfortable. Pete's SPOT Tracker is working well. Mike chose to land about 66 miles out. Looking at the math he wants to save some energy for the next 2 days. Pete is finally getting high and is pushing on, for now. 4:20 Pete is high - at 8800' 20 miles from Uvalde, with a heading towards Leaky, TX.

Gary Flew 596 Miles

2011-07-02T17:47:00.006-05:00

Gary's Gemini two place sailplane ready to tow in Zapata.

Late start, slow winds, weak lift, landed early. 1000 miles is possible on the right day from Zapata.

The Ship is Sinking and the Rodents Nervous

2011-06-30T18:42:00.002-05:00

After a delightful social evening of Brazilian churrasco (barbeque) hosted by Eduardo and company, today dawned grey and rainy as a consequence of that trollop Tropical Storm Arlene loitering south of us. This is a rainy movie we have seen several times before, and I have never liked how it ends.

We were summoned for a morning meeting to discuss some options in view of the unlikelihood of decent flying conditions returning until Sunday, at the earliest. The options presented were that we decamp to the Luling tow site east of San Antonio some five hours distant; that we make a one day shift of operations 50 miles northeastward to Hebbronville in the hopes that their weather might clear before Zapata’s does, and, finally, that we sit tight in Zapata until such time as good weather returns (Or until hell freezes over, whichever comes first). In the end, inertia prevailed and Davis, Mike, Gary and I will remain here. BJ is heading home to Denver (after last night having driven a round trip of 320 miles to La Pryor to pick up the expensive Garmin Rino locator that he had left in his lz the other day), while Robin and Paulo will head to Luling to fly tomorrow. Paulo needs to be in Dallas on Saturday and he is hoping to be able to fly a considerable part of that distance from Luling before driving the rest of he day.

Previous menus.

In the meantime, we are, once again, re-setting. Some have gone north to savor the bounty of Laredo (Faye is enchanted by the opportunity to buy actual coffee beans) and procure stocks of intoxicating liquors, while David has been instructing Davis in the technicalities of text messaging. Lunching at The Steak House we ordered from new, laminated menus that the owner has procured in response to David’s ceaseless needling about their tattered menus. And afterwards we indulged in a nostalgic, rainy tour of Old Zapata as we knew it, visiting the site of Godkin’s restaurant, a now abandoned redneck barbecue joint that even in its heyday seemed much like a set from the Addams Family. While the food was mediocre, and the service and décor worse, the place had the virtue of being different in a town where culinary conformity is a commercial virtue.

Godkin's Real Pit BBQ and Fish Restaurant.

It’s going to be a long three days in the rain.

Last 3 days & Personal Resetting

2011-06-29T13:36:00.006-05:00

After yesterday’s long flight and drive home (my slacker driver slept while I drove the final 130 miles), and Gary’s forecast of lighter winds and bluer skies I decided to take a day off. And after hearing of how the others went I had no regrets.

As has become traditional, BJ had the longest flight, albeit a paltry 125 miles to Crystal City, a flight so short as to drop his daily average flight below seven hours. Eduardo, who had chosen not to fly on the previous long day, also made it to Crystal City.

The other two Brazilians made it 55 miles into the Callaghan Ranch of ill fame (associated with a notorious four hour retrieve of Paris Williams that once cost me four new tires). Paulo and Moikano landed not because of poor conditions, but because of their poor condition: both had become badly airsick. For Moikano airsickness is unusual, but Paulo routinely takes medication before flight to prevent it. However, this time he had forgotten to do so and when the first symptoms appeared he tried to dig the pills out of a harness pocket in which he had them along with his cell phone and passport. But as he rooted around for the pills the other two items began to fall free. Reasoning that the passport was the more critical, he successfully grabbed it as the cell phone began a long, slow motion tumble to the mesquite below. Perhaps in compensation for that, they enjoyed an excellent retrieve in which their driver Louie was guided in by Mr. Callaghan, the owner of the enormous (third largest in Texas) ranch, and whom Louie called the coolest eighty six year old guy he has ever met. Mr. Callaghan would like a tandem ride some time.

Finally, there is Mike Barber’s third straight exciting retrieve. To recap, in his two previous flights Mike had first had trouble with a midget rent-a-cop at an oil facility; then he had piled in during an excessively exciting canyon landing. This time Mikey was back in the neighborhood of his little renta-cop buddy, and rather than land there and renew their acquaintanceship he thought it wise to land elsewhere. So he picked a nearby large open area thoughtfully cleared of mesquite by an arm of the Shell Oil Company. But once again officious corporate minions chose to make an issue of Mike’s arrival (landing was an inappropriate word to describe his downwind return to earth). As he dusted himself off, he was a mere quarter mile from the gate, but at first they would neither let him out, nor let Faye in to pick him up. Precisely why all of this was happening is beyond logic, but in the end Mikey did get out and home in good time.

Back at the field Gary introduced his new bride Christine to the doubtful pleasures of bondage when they borrowed an old military parachute so that she could accompany Gary in the Gemini for some local soaring. In the end, the ‘chute harness proved so painful that they had to cut the flight short, with Gary reporting a thirty mile glide back to the field at 115 mph while losing only 400 feet under a fabulous late day sky.

Tuesday Morning June 28 : Dueling Prognosticators

The day began ominously with an ultimately optimistic email from Gary suggesting that by Thursday more useful weather patterns will re-assert themselves after this two-day period of, ahem, “re-setting”. Davis’ return volley arrived minutes later, the graphic of a wind chart contradicting Gary. Their disagreements highlight the difficulty of forecasting the weather phenomena that we need to line up for our long flights.

In the meantime, I was looking at maps and contemplating some sort of local tourist flying, perhaps heading southeastward, parallel to the Rio Grande towards McAllen. After planning a couple of routes and loading a number of airport waypoints into the gps, I happily headed to the airport in the hopes of flying somewhere other than along the long rut northward.

Following a dynamic launch and tow in the heat of the day I pinned off into a deceptively good looking sky. At 1:30 pm I was probably a bit early, and the clouds proved unreliable and short lived. They also briefly overdeveloped and shaded the ground as I began my slog southwards with a stronger than expected 13mph crosswind. Getting low out in the mesquite six miles south of the airport I gave up, and after a brief scare made it back to the airport with my tail between my legs to land after 1.5 hours.

The sky began to look better at that point, but the stronger headwind compelled even the indefatigable BJ Herring to give up at the first turn point of an attempt at breaking the rigid wing 100 kilometer speed-triangle record. He landed back at the airport after his shortest flight of this campaign, further reducing his daily flight average down to a paltry six hours. Youth nowadays are truly soft.

We all then repaired to the motel’s swimming pool where a couple of gin and tonics improved my outlook on the day.

Wednesday June 29: Dueling Prognosticators, v.2

Today’s morning email again brought contradictory forecasts: Gary’s typically optimistic one, quickly followed by Davis darker tones. Unfortunately, irrespective of which one is the more accurate, it would seem that we are in for at least a couple of days of mediocre conditions resulting from the influence of the year’s first tropical storm, Arlene. Arlene is lollygaggin’ in Mexico, just south of the Texas border. It would appear that we will see only peripheral effects of the storm, although the memories of past tropical storms and hurricanes in this alleged desert are worrying.

In the meantime, Gary, Robin Hamilton in his semi-sailplane Swift, and BJ are about to embark on a big triangle that is oriented northward in the hopes of benefiting from the better weather north of the storm. I may go to the airport and play locally for a bit as it could be a couple of days before we otherwise get to fly again.

Dropping in on Bunkie and other Texas Hospitality

2011-06-27T15:59:00.003-05:00

Sunday June 26

Before recounting Sunday’s efforts I must first provide an addendum to the previous day’s stories. BJ Herring’s flight was in fact scored by the software at 187 miles after including the thirty mile dogleg to end the flight at Uvalde airport. BJ’s early route had been northwestward, taking him well west of US 83 out into the some pretty sketchy retrieve country. A very fine flight.

On the other hand, we have one more Zapata retrieval story for the ages: apparently Eduardo got handcuffed . When we gathered at the hangar for the day’s briefing from Gary, we first began with stories of yesterday’s retrieves. Davis made the point that he didn’t actually have a gun pulled on him; the guy merely placed his hand on his weapon, errh, gun. Eduardo, on the other hand, got the full treatment. After having landed at a ranch and speaking good Spanish (many Brazilians also speak excellent Spanish) someone called the sheriff and Border Patrol to report that he had illegally crossed over from Mexico. While still having a pleasant chat with the Hispanic ranch hands, five police and Border Patrol cars showed up to inquire if the FAA knew he had crossed the border. In the ensuing misunderstanding, Eduardo was invited to turn around and offered the traditional American hospitality gift of handcuffs. Eventually one of the Border Patrol officers, who is also a helicopter pilot, clarified matters and Eduardo was allowed to go.

On to Sunday’s flying.

Gary was greatly excited about the day: the wind would be good, and while the clouds were likely to dry up around the 150 mile mark he felt we would find a few enduring, high cloud lines along which one could continue for world record distances.

The morning sky that greeted us at the airport was truly excellent. Both the configuration of the cloud streets, and their direction were perfect. The wind was strong, the clouds promised to be reliable, and their alignment would make getting around Laredo easy. They were at first a bit low, but our hero BJ took it upon himself to show the hesitant wimps that the clouds were already working when he launched around 10am. Cloud base rose rapidly, and by the time Mike Barber went at 10:20 cloud base had already risen to over 2,500 agl. Davis and I launched soon after, with Alex Trivelato following a bit later. Excepting Davis on the single-surface glider, we all got past Laredo (50 miles) with little trouble. The early 18-19 mph tailwinds were moving us along nicely, however while the clouds were reliable they never really got very high and the climb rates were at best moderate.

By the time we reached the 100 mile mark at Catarina BJ, Mike and I were on world record paces until it became evident that the clouds were indeed drying up ahead of us. Mike and BJ (and later Alex) heeded Gary’s radio-relayed advice to veer northward in an attempt to remain under the mythic convergence lines. I on the other hand continued downwind to the northwest in pursuit of my declared goal destination of Garden City. The drawback of that route is that it takes one across some truly evil hilly and often un-landable terrain. I have successfully crossed it in the past without too much drama, however on those occasions I had reliable and considerably higher clouds to ease the passage. But this time around the clouds had entirely evaporated by the time I got into the worst of it, so I had to very carefully maximize my blue altitude gains and drift into the wilderness high enough to ensure that I could saw and reach a safely landable spot. I was surprised and disappointed to discover that the attainable altitudes didn’t go any higher as the terrain rose, thereby reducing my ground clearance precisely when I most needed it.

As I tiptoed my way through the bush a further concern was reaching a safe landing spot from which I could be retrieved. Much of that country is divided up into fancy hunting camps which are largely unoccupied during the summer heat. And they can be a long way off a road behind locked gates. My climbs remained erratic, and despite what should have been the perfect late afternoon time of day they were not going any higher, indeed the last couple of climbs didn’t even go as high as the previous ones had gone. I finally became stuck low over one of those luxury hunting camps, and while the swimming pool was inviting, I saw no signs of life and no easy way in. Still having a bit of altitude in hand I wandered around hoping to find a ticket out, and eventually at 1,000 agl some birds showed me a violent thermal that climbed well while awakening my dormant tumble spooks. Eventually the damn thing did mellow out, but only to completely die just high enough to allow a glide towards an inviting distant blacktop runway. Reasoning that I should be able to get to a road from such a fancy airport, I hopped over there and was reassured to see a couple of cars in front of the main lodge. I flew on a little further and after six hours and 195 miles I landed next to the immaculate 4,500 foot runway in strong, gusty conditions.

Upon landing I determined I had zero cell coverage, and no radio contact with David. Before landing I had given him my distance and bearing from Zapata, and by putting those numbers into the old Garmin 12 he should be able to get within a few miles of my location. But establishing radio contact with me behind the hills and down in the Nueces River valley was going to be another matter. And then there would likely be a locked gate to be dealt with.

So after quickly breaking down I hiked with my harness in hundred-degree heat three-quarters of a mile to the main lodge hoping someone could help me out. But after walking all around the buildings hollering “hello”, there was no reply. I found a hose from which to drink water and sat down to cool off and rest my aching leg before beginning the two mile hike out to the road. From there I hoped to establish cell or radio contact with David. But just as I was beginning to stir for the hike, I heard a muffled “woof” behind me and turned to see a woman behind a glass door with a gigantic Great Dane. She turned out to be the lodge’s caretaker during the hot months, and had been alarmed to see some guy with a big “duffle bag” (my harness). She figured I was a Mexican drug runner and was concerned because she didn’t have her gun. However when I turned around to reveal my decidedly gringo features she was immensely relieved, and became most hospitable. In chatting with her I learned that the Pinon Ranch, as it’s named, is owned by the Dallas oil billionaire Hunt family who built the pristine, paved wilderness runway for them to jet in and shoot the furry critter whose heads liberally decorate the walls of the handsome main lodge.

After it became apparent that even their phones didn’t work, she offered to drive me out to the gate where there was cell coverage. At the first high spot on the road I got in touch with David who was miraculously close to the ranch’s gate after having traversed some thirty miles of bush roads trying to establish radio contact with me. With my radioed information he had created a synthetic waypoint that proved to be within about two and half miles of me. But while that is pretty good, I today decided to order a SPOT locator. Having seen how well it works for Mike and the Brazilians I am persuaded it is the way to go for pilots flying in wilderness areas.

After driving in to get my glider we then began the long drive back to Zapata, arriving home at 12:30 am, but not before a dubious dining experience in Carrizo Springs along the way. The food wasn’t bad, but the service established a new low for the western world with a waiter who’s IQ could be measured in single digits. Most unforgivably, he forgot my margarita.

The Others

BJ's 270 mile track across Texas, longest flight in US this year.

While I was attempting to solve my retrieval problems BJ was successfully continuing his quest to maintain a seven hour daily flight average. He followed Gary’s advice and headed north past Uvalde and up US 83 into the Hill Country and beyond, getting some 270 miles despite the lighter winds and lack of clouds. He is my hero. Alex and Mike too headed that way with Alex flying what I presume to be a personal best of about 250 miles, while Mike got 200 miles and a rather hairy, windy canyon landing that cost him a down tube. The miracle of Alex’s flight is not the distance, but the fact that he got retrieved at all (by BJ and his driver, Dave). He had neither a functioning radio nor a SPOT locator. He’s bloody lucky. This is not a place to be trifled with.

Finally, Davis on the single surface glider had a much harder time of it earlier, three times going down to 1,000 agl or less in his performance-challenged single-surface machine. He ultimately landed east of Crystal City for 125 miles, or, as he’d prefer to say, 200 kilometers. Earlier in the day I had been astonished at Davis’ rapid progress considering his glider’s performance limitations. And then it dawned on me: he was calling out distances in kilometers…

For those who have the necessary software and skill - Pete's igc file and Pete's Google Earth file of flight.

June 27th

2011-06-27T11:35:00.001-05:00

Pete's account from yesterday "Dropping in on Bunkie" will be coming out later. Today almost everyone is flying including Robin Hamilton on a Swift. Pete and Alex are taking a break. 9:30am starts with BJ going early, AGAIN. This place is amazing. Davis is on single surface. Winds seem not as strong today, but anything can happen. Will keep everyone posted.

2011-06-26T12:32:00.002-05:00

UPDATE: Everyone down safe. BJ at 270, Alex 255 and others shorter.

BJ at about 180. Things turning blue for everyone.

BJ on world record pace, maybe Mike and Pete also. Davis is up in a single surface doing well.

BJ, Mike, Pete up already. 3000' cloudbase, with strong winds and good direction. Mike's Spot Tracker

Slideshow

2011-06-26T07:43:00.000-05:00

Aviation Variety, and the Hell Of A Zapata Retrieve

2011-06-26T07:38:00.000-05:00

Saturday, June 25: Aviation Variety, and the Hell Of A Zapata Retrieve

The morning began with Zapata’s characteristic clouds and a perhaps undue general optimism. With my bandaged leg I had decided to take a mental health vacation, but David and I went to the field to help the others fly. And there were many people at the field intent on various forms of aviation.

Gary finally had a tow plane with which to get his Gemini sailplane into the air, and that is how we began. Russell pulled him up with the new hook on the Scout, and the tow went very well with Gary experiencing a reassuringly strong climb on tow with his heavy glider. While he had found only weak lift, the irrepressible BJ nonetheless soon launched in his quest to maintain an average of six hours a day (yes, that is his average), followed by Davis on his single-surface North Wings Freedom, Mike Barber, and the four Brazilians.

The soft conditions soon began to exact casualties, the first being Davis who decked it some six miles out in the land of locked-gate gas wells. That was the beginning of an epic seven hour retrieval wait that involved two Scout airplane sorties to locate him, two calls to the sheriffs department for assistance (none resulted), and an encounter with a local whom Davis sufficiently surprised to have a gun pulled on him.

The four Brazilieros began launching, but some had trouble getting up and returned to the field for re-lights, while Moikano (Portuguese for Mohican, in honor of his customary Mohawk haircut) returned with a defective vario. Not needing a vario, I loaned him mine and he and the others re-launched successfully before heading downwind toward varied fates. None went terribly far, but one had a quintessential Zapata retrieve wherein poor Louie had to walk in some five miles in hundred degree heat to dig Paulo out of the mesquite.

In between the Brazialian re-launches the local radio control club began flying a number of marvelous 1/3 scale (enormous) model airplanes off the runway. Unfortunately one of them became a victim of gravity when a snap roll put it straight into the ground, a $2,000 mistake.

In the meantime, Mike Barber and BJ were slogging their way northward. BJ’s quest for the six hour average flight has now been upped to a seven hour average. He flew for 7:08. After finally abandoning the long flight he turned around and flew eastward to land at Uvalde airport for some 165 miles. The guy is an animal. At the same time Mikey had been suffering radio problems and the consequences having his instruments set in metric units. Fay was receiving his SPOT locator’s information, but Mike was reporting (when he could) distances that were inconsistent with the SPOT locations. The explanation was that Mike’s distances were in kilometers, and the SPOT’s in miles. Realizing how slowly he was progressing, Mike bagged it near Caterina, about 100 miles out from Zapata. He then landed inside a big new chemical complex where he was promptly greeted by an overzealous midget female renta-cop demanding id. He successfully evaded her and moved his glider off the property whereupon he was greeted by relays of Border Patrol officers inquiring as to what was going on. Zapata flying truly is unlike flying anywhere else in this great Republic.

To conclude the day’s activities, late in the afternoon Russell towed-up Gary who then had a fine two hour local flight. It had been a full and truly varied day of aviation at Zapata County Airport.

Blood on the Tracks

2011-06-24T06:48:00.000-05:00

Friday, June 24 Blood on the Tracks

The re-setting continued, and the morning sky looked quite good, albeit with light easterly winds that were unsuitable for long flights. Still, it was flyable and we had a variety of flying objectives in mind. BJ’s intention was to attempt a gigantic world-record distance triangle of 260 miles, Mike Barber needed to test fly his new glider locally, while the Brazilians too wanted to do some gear-sorting and experience the tow operation. In the end, the soft lift and constant cross wind resulted in BJ’s triangle being truncated into an out’n’back to Laredo (circa 80 miles), Mike’s test flight proved his glider’s pitch to be badly out of trim, something that may have contributed to his belly- flop landing on the runway, and the Brazilians had a bunch of broken weak links, part of an unusual number that have been experienced here.

And then there’s my weak link break. I had been looking forward to attempting an unusual eighty mile flight to the south east along the Mexican border towards McAllen. But the instant I came off the cart my weak link broke. That shouldn’t have been a problem as I had good speed to transition to a landing. However, I had zipped up my harness a bit too far and couldn’t unzip it in the seconds available to me. Still in my harness, I opted to belly land on the runway. Unfortunately the repaved runway has an extraordinarily coarse texture, that of a heavy grit sand paper, which resulted in my harness and knee being shredded. The harness can be fixed with Shoe Goo, but the knee required three stitches to pull together the resulting mess. The doctor who treated me at the clinic was sufficiently impressed by it to take some pictures for his colleagues. I was extraordinarily lucky, and can walk well and should be flying in a couple of days.

Re-Set

2011-06-23T06:47:00.000-05:00

Thursday, June 23: Zapata Re-Set

After the previous day’s deluge, Thursday began the process of “re-setting”. That is, the rain tapered off to a drizzle before finally producing a fabulous late-day sky of cumulus clouds suggesting that Friday will again have flyable conditions. Taking advantage of the off-day Russell flew the Scout out to Houston to finish up the sailplane tow-hook installation, while in Zapata the inmates killed time sorting gear, fantasizing routes, bickering on the internet, and pursuing mammals. Late in the afternoon we intended to repair to the Lakefront Lodge’s swimming pool for evening cocktails. However the pool had been over run by some good ole boys cranking country music from a pick up truck that featured buckshot holes in the side resulting from a shotgun blast by his brother. A family disagreement, apparently.

Zapata, Yet Again, For The Very Last Time

2011-06-22T06:46:00.000-05:00

Zapata, Yet Again, For The Very Last Time - By Pete Lehmann

Well, here we are sitting in our luxury Lakefront Lodge accommodations watching lightning strike and rain fall. Gary Osoba assures us that the parched countryside will quickly absorb the rain, and that conditions will “re-set” in time for Friday or Saturday to once again turn on. Davis Straub too is demonstrating his flexibility in that he finally left Austin to come down here. He had been pooh-poohing the generally good weather of the past couple of days, insisting that Wednesday, the rainy today, would be a big one. But he began this morning by distributing a weather image implying that Friday is now the “new Wednesday”. As you can see, weather forecasting is an inexact science, and involves room for considerable self-deception. I rather prefer to look out the window in the morning. And it is raining.

This year’s trip to this Texas garden spot was uncharacteristically hurried after I learned that the clan was gathering in Zapata three days earlier than I had thought. There was no time for my customary en route stops in Knoxville or Arkansas. Instead, I immediately headed west on I-70 to Kansas City, and then south to Wichita to pick up some stuff from Gary’s house before ending up in Oklahoma City to abduct my driver David Glover. The next morning we began the final twelve hour leg to Zapata, remarking as we went further south on the delightfully parched look of the countryside. They were enduring drought conditions. Oh joy; oh rapture.

In Zapata we found Gary, tug driver Russell Brown, Mike Barber and his girlfriend Fay, as well as Louie and Gita who are to drive for the five Brazilians who arrived a couple of days later. Our first day in Zapata was spent settling in, absorbing the Zapata magic, checking equipment, programming gps’ and brushing up on our Spanish. Not having been here for a couple of years we were confronted with some changes in the local landscape: the only decent restaurant had closed, as had the bowling alley. More tragically, the one restaurant which had allowed me to bring in wine has changed its policy.

If in the intervening years Zapata itself has gained nothing in the way of charm, at least the airport is still an inviting destination complete with the wrought iron sign above the entrance advertising it as “Home of the World Record Encampment”. Run by Charlie Averitt, the airport offers a neat, clean hangar in which to set up our toys. By the time David and I got there Russell and Louie had set up the Tug, while Gary had assembled his unique side-by-side two-place Gemini glider, and Mike B his Lightspeed. I set up my glider while Russell was performing an FAA Annual Inspection of the Scout, an airplane owned by the wealthy local rancher and friend of the WRE, Rick Walker. The Scout’s significance is two fold. On the one hand it is Russell’s commuting vehicle for his daily trips to and from Rick’s ranch where he’s staying, but it will also be serving as the tow plane for Gary’s heavy glider, for which reason Russell is now installing a tow hook.

The day after our arrival Mike and I decided to take an early whack at flying, egged on by Gary’s enthusiasm about the early morning convergence clouds that are the hallmark of Zapata flying. Prior to our arrival there had been very little of this “over run” as it’s called. The winds had been too southerly, bringing in none of the Gulf of Mexico moisture that is required for the formation of solid early clouds. I was a bit dubious about Gary’s assessment, but figured it was time to get back on the Zapata horse and see what happened. So, followed shortly by Mike, I launched at 9:25 in the friggin’ morning on what Gary says is the earliest “successful” xc ever from the site. In fact, success is not the term I would have used as I landed only 15 miles away after a couple of weak climbs to 2,700agl. But Mike, who’d broken a weak link in the nasty conditions early in his first tow, survived the difficult early period and made it up past Laredo before deciding to land after sixty miles. Conditions were utterly blue, and he wasn’t going to get terribly far. In any event, we’d both gotten our feet wet again, proved we could survive under the sketchy, early clouds, and we’d both been blessed with easy retrieves. I had landed in the boonies, however at a giant ranch house where the Mexican grounds keeper got David in past the locked gate for me. My fragmentary Spanish had again proved most useful.

But if I was dubious about the clouds on Monday, yesterday, Tuesday, dawned spectacularly. The forecasts (that evil word again) had been unpromising, however Gary had been up very early and detected the “over-running” occurring. He began texting before dawn, and by the time I finally looked out the window I began panicking as by 8:45 the clouds had already become spectacular and I was feeling as though we were late. Throwing my stuff together David and I bailed out of the motel and arrived at the airport to find Mike getting ready to launch. I launched soon after him, and Russell towed me two cloud streets east of the airport and I pinned off at cloud base, 3,500 msl, very high for 10:20 in the morning. The street was solid and the clouds working well enough that Mike and I both had a pretty easy time traversing the land of locked gates, mesquite wilderness and airspace around Laredo. However at the fifty mile point things became tougher. The clouds overdeveloped, shading the ground and diminishing the climbs. In addition, cloudbase remained stubbornly low, never getting over 4,000 agl as we headed north into some serious mesquite wilderness. In the end, after three hours in the air I made it 86.9 miles, struggling desperately at low levels drifting over the mesquite from one landable road to another. I finally decked it on a wide dirt road that was being heavily traveled by big construction trucks servicing the booming local gas developments. With little altitude in hand, I planned my landing behind the last vehicle of a convoy headed south when I saw a new pickup truck headed north through my landing strip Unfortunately, he saw me and then courteously stopped in the road right where I’d wanted to land. I frantically waved at him and he moved forward giving me an uneventful landing on the road. It was remarkably dusty, and I had to break down in the dust clouds raised by the constantly passing tractor trailers.

Mike continued northward after waffling about wind directions before deciding to land at Crystal City for 125 miles. Along the way he had a peculiarly Zapataesque worry to deal with. His girlfriend and driver Fay is British, and while she has already had her application for a new visa status approved, her current visa is technically expired. Unfortunately, the area over which we are flying is on the Mexican border and the area is the most heavily policed part of the US I have seen. One element of the law enforcement presence is the existence of permanent (and temporary) internal Border Patrol stations, one of which is located on the US 83, the road we were following that day. And, sure enough, their computer’s flagged Fay’s “expired” visa and the Border Patrol held her incommunicado for a while until her status was verified. In the meantime, Mike was becoming concerned enough that he had briefly headed southward, intending to land with me, before Fay was set free to continue the chase. I had been more fortunate as my silver-tongued, native-born Okie driver David talked his way past the border check despite having forgotten his driver’s license in the early morning rush.

To complete the day’s flying, BJ Herring, the excellent Colorado rigid wing pilot, had set-up his ATOS astonishingly quickly and launched shortly after me. He wound up landing at six o’clock, 240 miles from Zapata up on the Edwards Escarpment, the 2,500 msl plateau that begins north of Uvalde. It was an excellent flight, and one that looks that much better from this rainy vantage point.

Twitter, Pics, Youtube, Etc

2009-07-22T11:10:00.007-05:00

Check out the links to the right to follow us on twitter and see videos and pictures. Also visit the other links. YouTube Videos or check out Lots of pictures.

Sunset info

2009-07-19T16:04:00.005-05:00

Lamesa, TX Sunset Times 30 Past Official

7/19/2009 9:25:00
7/23/2009 9:22:00
7/26/2009 9:20:00
7/29/2009 9:18:00
8/2/2009 9:15:00
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Typical Zapata Day

2009-07-19T08:45:00.001-05:00

See more here.

How to read this thing

2005-08-24T12:49:00.000-05:00

Newest posts are at the top, oldest at the bottom. You might want to scroll down to the start of the day for best effect. Also see Jamie's Blog - and - Jonny's Blog

2005-07-31T16:43:00.000-05:00

2005-07-30T14:43:00.000-05:00

Abilene, Abilene - tough to get past

2005-07-27T22:08:00.000-05:00

Mark P in 2002 landed around the same area. Davis had 2 hours left when he was cut off - Gary thinks he would have done about 450.

Just talked with Davis

2005-07-26T19:39:00.000-05:00

Davis still up and out there

2005-07-26T18:44:00.000-05:00

Gary is talking with Belinda and got an update on Davis's position. Looks like he is about 345 miles out, he is on a track that will take him east of Abilene. He hit a convergence line and was able to get way ahead of Belinda, who is driving as fast as she can and still can not keep up.

No word

2005-07-26T18:03:00.000-05:00

We have lost contact with Belinda. Maybe a bad sign or not. We will keep trying. Davis should be over 300 miles by now if he is still up.

7000' 260 miles out

2005-07-26T16:39:00.000-05:00

Belinda reports Davis is 10miles north of I-10 past the town of Junction. Davis is staying high and reports a 24mph tailwind.

Davis passing Uvalde before 2pm

2005-07-26T14:20:00.000-05:00

Belinda lost contact for about 45 minutes with Davis. She just heard from him and he was passing Uvalde about 20 minutes ago. Gary has calculated Davis's avg has increased to 38mph and climbing. If he can stay up he could break the overall record of 438miles. Jamie and Jonny are driving north from Laredo 35 miles to pick up Bo. That was nice.

2 still in the air

2005-07-26T12:03:00.000-05:00

Update at 12:34 Davis at 100 mile mark. Bo is down at 75 miles.

Incredible Start for today - Wow!

2005-07-26T10:19:00.000-05:00

Mayhem - No one is ready for the day

2005-07-26T08:55:00.000-05:00

Red Bull - Poker Night

2005-07-25T23:05:00.000-05:00

Update John Harper and Jonny Durand split the winnings.

Musical Encouragment

2005-07-25T15:40:00.000-05:00

170 miles into the Flight

2005-07-25T15:13:00.000-05:00

Jamie's up to date blog - Click here.

Front Page Laredo Times

2005-07-25T13:59:00.000-05:00

Some nice pictures and some interesting word choices in the Laredo Morning Times Sunday Paper. Click on Page one and Page 6

Switch Blogs

2005-07-25T13:54:00.000-05:00

Jonny is up, everyone else down, he is currently about 110 miles out. Gary thinks if he can survive it another 75 miles he has a chance at the record. For the rest of the day regularly check Jamie's Blog. She is driving for Jonny and updating through audio and text posts.

12:45

2005-07-25T12:44:00.000-05:00

Jonny at 65 miles. Pete at 40. Davis and John Harper are down.

Looking Good - Maybe

2005-07-25T11:24:00.000-05:00

Sunday

2005-07-24T11:34:00.000-05:00

Monday and Tuesday are still looking good for an attempt. We had a great time last night at Rick Walker's house. Another Texas Hold'em Tournament. I placed second, Davis was the big "winner". Nelson Lewis caught a Indigo snake on our Unimog trek around the back roads around the ranch.

Saturday

2005-07-23T14:11:00.000-05:00

Hang gliding - expo today at the airport. About 15 locals came out and watched. Pete footlaunched his Falcon. John Harper flew his Talon and Bobby changed some of the locals "perspective". Tonight is our annual party at Rick Walkers. Here are some new pictures from today.

Friday's Plan

2005-07-22T08:13:00.000-05:00

Starting to dry out. Rick Walker, a supportive local rancher, reports 5" of rain fell on his Dad's land. That is about 3x more than the yearly rainfall up to this point. Davis, Gary and even Pete are optimistic about the conditions starting as early as Sunday. We host a community day at the airport on Saturday. Saturday night we have our annual get together at Rick's Ranch Lodge. Alex Ploner had a blast playing with guns when he was there. YeeHaw!

Rainy - Wednesday

2005-07-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

Drizzle here at the Lakefront. Jonny and Jamie may drive up to Amarillo and retrieve Garys's glider for him. We have some prediction of good conditions returning around the weekend. My room has turned into the internet cafe. Davis, Belinda and Bo are here on the laptops. ESPN just started broadcasting the 2005 World Series of Poker.

Hurricane Coming

2005-07-19T16:23:00.000-05:00

3 New World Records - WRE 2005

2005-07-18T21:18:00.000-05:00

The story begins at the bottom. Posts are chronological starting with the oldest at the bottom and the newest at the top.

Swift - World Record

2005-07-18T21:12:00.000-05:00

Robin just landed near Lamesa - for a distance of about 425. Great streets and lift on the Edwards Plateau. His glider sustained major damage yesterday during a test flight when he hit a runway light on takeoff. A big chunk was ripped off the leading edge near the tip and the front was crumpled at least 4 feet towards the nose. He spent a good part of the night fixing it. Long drive back to Houston with his driver - John Moody.

The Gary has Landed

2005-07-18T20:54:00.000-05:00

Osoba is on the ground at 604 miles - New World Record. He landed on a ranch near Amarillo and is putting the Silent 2 in the hay barn. Mary, his wife, will leave Wichita tomorrow morning to pick him up. The trailer is in Zapata, so...

No word from Robin.

1000kms for Gary?

2005-07-18T20:14:00.000-05:00

Just heard from Gary by in air cell phone, he is coming up on Amarillo, Texas and is at 7000 feet. He is in the blue, totally shaded over from a blowup west of his course line. It will be touch and go if he gets past the 1000k barrier. Robin Hamilton is still flying and around 400 miles in the Swift. 3 World Records may be broken today.

Gary before take-off

2005-07-18T20:13:00.000-05:00

Harness Failure 10 minutes into it!

2005-07-18T19:12:00.000-05:00

New World Record - Bo Hagewood

2005-07-18T18:51:00.000-05:00

BO FOUND - 190 MILE FLIGHT!

2005-07-18T18:34:00.000-05:00

He tows up half the pilots here then takes off for a flight. Our buddy Bo is near Del Rio, Texas. He thought the land started to look rough and took the woosy way out and landed. He flew past all the topless gliders and now owns the Single Surface World Record. Pete Lehmann AKA-"Previous record holder" ironically lent Bo his Attack Falcon "Tweety" for the flight. John Harper and Nelson Lewis are contemplating their Karmic bank account and considering the 5 hour trip up and 6 hour trip back. I think Greyhound might win-out. UPDATE - Harper/Lewis on the way to pick up Bo.

200 and 400 miles so far

2005-07-18T16:24:00.000-05:00

Gary just called he is at 8500 feet and about 400 miles from Zapata. Robin Hamilton is around 225 miles out and still high. John Moody is driving for Robin and is calling me and asking for elevations of towns along the route - huh? Harper and Lewis are hanging out in Laredo in case anyone needs to be picked up. No word from Bo.

Where is Bo?

2005-07-18T14:46:00.000-05:00

Could the lowest performing glider - a Falcon - still be in the air? Kent Robinson is still up in the Sport 2. Robin Hamilton is up in the Swift. Gary Osoba is up in the Silent 2 sailplane. Go Bo, Go! Of course Bo could have landed in a cell phone dead spot and be walking out of the desert also. The boy needs to fly with a radio next time.

1:30pm update

2005-07-18T13:30:00.000-05:00

More info: Davis on the ground around 63 miles, no word from Bo.

Past Laredo

2005-07-18T11:01:00.000-05:00

Monday Morning

2005-07-18T10:29:00.000-05:00

Strong wind, few clouds. Not the classic Zapata moring. Gary took off at 9:47am, everyone else is hesitant without seeing the streets of cummies.

On the Road

2005-07-17T21:37:00.000-05:00

Memories of last week.
More Photos - click here

Picture Link

2005-07-17T21:15:00.000-05:00

See Photos. This is the same link as the above and to the right.

Best day in 3 years...

2005-07-17T18:29:00.000-05:00

Predicted at least. Of course we have had awful conditions for the last three years. Everyone is excited about the possibility for tomorrow. The hurricane will shut us down for at least a few days after Tuesday or Wednesday. We all meet tonight to get everyone on the same page. We have 7 pilots and 7 drivers - what a ratio.

Flying

2005-07-17T12:00:00.000-05:00

Almost everyone is taking a flight today. Both tugs are working well. The wind is strong and the coulds look great. Gary just landed and had a nice flight in the sailplane.

New Arrivals

2005-07-16T12:27:00.000-05:00

John Harper and Nelson Lewis from Virginia showed up this morning. Kent Robinson brought a girl to drive for him, he must be trying to get rid of her. And some mean girl named Emily is threatening to visit next week. The WiFi is working great at the hotel and airport, so, I am spending time listening to streaming audio of the WSOP, British Open, and the Tour de Lance. Just heard Robin Hamilton is pulling into town with his Swift.

Watering down

2005-07-15T21:03:00.000-05:00

Evening starts at Club de Belinda. Then off to the El Paraiso. Jamie Shelden just showed up to help out and drive for Jonny Durand. Kent Robinson, John Harper and Robin Hamilton are slated to arrive this weekend. John, from VA, picked up a Silent 2 from Leo Benetti-Longhini from TN and is driving it out for Gary Osoba. It is starting to rain.

Emily coming?

2005-07-15T10:25:00.000-05:00

The Hurricane in the Gulf looks like it is bearing down on us. Pete Lehmann is on sucide watch.

This Weekend

2005-07-14T21:28:00.000-05:00

Conditions shaping up for the weekend. Pete reported solid climbs with one 700+ sustained. Gary went to dinner with Jonny Durand and gave him all the tips and tricks he could think of. Blue Moon is providing wireless for us at the Airport and at the Lakefront Lodge

July 14 - audio

2005-07-14T15:37:00.000-05:00

We Are Here!

2005-07-10T11:33:00.000-05:00

Barely skirted the Hurricane. Bobby, Bo and I unloaded the planes and put them together. Pete and Drew helped with the Flytec tug. Lost my wallet and dunked my new cell phone in the pool. I am blaming it on the long drive, heat and dehydration. My wallet was found at Quest and I brought a backup cell phone. The dead phone was the new SMT5600 Windows Smartphone

Getting Ready

2005-07-09T16:54:00.000-05:00

Russell Brown has gone way beyond expectations to help the WRE this year. With help from Joe Johnston and "Awesome Bob" Lane he breaks down Bobby's Moyes and Steve's Flytec tug for insertion in the big trailer, then he lends us his truck to drive it all out. He put in countless hours over many days to make sure it all happened on time. Bo decides to join us about 2 days before we plan to leave, he is a non-stop work horse in preparing everything to go. Steve Kroop of Flytec continues to support the WRE every way he can. Big Thanks to Quest for getting all the equipment ready.

Zapata Bound

2005-06-30T15:35:00.000-05:00

We plan on showing up around July 10th. Flytec and Quest are providing tugs. A small dedicated group of pilots have been invited this year. The conditions are the best in 3 years. Belinda is really looking forward to it.