Philip Siscoe <<psiscoe>>
writes:

Tuesday, March 28th, 2017. I’m at work and on a call with my
colleague John.

- Phil, John says – Canada’s Department of National Defense (DND) is going to
require national level review of the software change you are planning for the
classified training system.

- Crap, I respond. How long will that take?

- Four to six weeks, John guesses.

- Well, it is what it is. Guess I’ll have to tell Larry this project is going to
be delayed by a month or two, I say.

John and I end our call. I feel sunken. I had been planning to travel to Halifax
to install and test this updated software on the helicopter simulator system in
late April.

Larry, my boss, a manager at a major helicopter manufacturer, had been whining
to me just a couple of weeks earlier that I cost too much. Larry takes good care
of me, and I’ve got it pretty good in this steady contracting gig that has been
going on for years.

Larry isn’t going to be thrilled about the delay. And I also feel a little
concerned about his perception of carrying me while we wait for DND review and
approval of the software change. I also loathe twiddling my thumbs.

- Hang on! I think. This could be awesome :)

I have a scheme that will ease up on Larry’s budget and make me a happy boy. Why
not take this opportunity to drive to Florida for a couple of weeks and get
re-acquainted with my hang glider? – a Wills Wing 141 Fusion SP

I had bought this 141 Fusion SP in 2001, straight out of the Wills Wing design
and test process. It was the first newly redesigned smaller version Fusion out
of the factory. Steve Pearson had told me that if it performed well in test
flight, I could have it. They built it to my color scheme, tested out the
redesign, and shipped it to me in Calgary, Alberta. My first flight on it out of
Golden, British Columbia (Canada’s hang gliding Mecca) was awesome. What a great
wing.

A couple of years after taking receipt of the glider in July 2001, I got
married. A couple of years after that we had a beautiful baby girl. When my
daughter was two, we moved from Calgary, where flying opportunities were plenty,
to Ottawa, Ontario where I rarely fly. Out of Ottawa, I’ve only flown on the
very rare occasions when the stars align and my best friend Jim is free to
aerotow. A handful of others pilots and I aerotow up behind his Flightstar
ultralight. This happens maybe once or twice a year.

In 2014 Jim did introduce me to Wallaby Ranch, where I spent a week. Then, in
2016, I spent a handful of days at Quest, tagging this onto a work trip to the
helicopter test facility in West Palm Beach, Florida.

But, all in all, not much flying to speak of since 2004 or so.

Larry is cool with me taking the time off. As is my ex who will need to look
after our daughter Sammy single handedly while I’m away. I still have some
insecurity about the idea: money; time away from work; time away from the work I
need to do on the house, etc.

In a chat with Jim on whether or not to do it, he says – Phil, you have to
decide to do these things or they don’t happen. That clinched it. I’m doing it.

This is great! I just love a road trip in my truck loaded up with gear. Yahoo!
Reminiscent of my days in Calgary heading west to the mountains to play!

0030 hrs, Monday April 10th, 2017. Two fourteen-hour days of driving later,
including an overnight in a Walmart parking lot, and I’m at Quest. Staying there
for two weeks.

I booked myself into one of their rental trailers out back, as I have the
(misguided) notion that I might actually do some work while I’m there. As it
turned out, the weather and flying was so amazing that after a couple of days,
the notion of work became a very distant thought.

So here I am, at Quest, meek as heck. Barely 200 hours under my belt, and
haven’t flown much in the past 12 years.

I don’t know how many times I say to folks:

- I haven’t flown much in the last decade.

- I just want to get comfortable in my hang glider again.

- Oh, there’s a comp next week? Am I participating in it? Heck no, I have no
such ambitions.

Tuesday, April 11th, 2017. The rust removal process begins.

I convince Spinner I’m confident towing up solo in a Falcon. I do two early
morning tows. Man – I just love flying that glider. I’m so relaxed and confident
on it. I love heaping on the speed on final and driving that thing to the ground
with authority. What a great confidence boost.

Then I move onto my friend Andre’s U2 that he keeps at Quest and has graciously
offered to me. Over the next few days I do a bunch of morning and afternoon
flights on the U2. On the first landing approach, I get a brutal reminder of the
phenomenon of wind gradient. Nothing broken, but it came close. Let’s just say
that, after that, I always, always, come in on final with heaps of speed.

One of the best parts of flying at Quest is the people you meet. There are new
people arriving every day. Over the days, as my confidence re-develops, I find
myself being less timid socially and eagerly introducing myself to folks. Enter
Tim from Colorado.

Despite my higher level of confidence, I assert to Tim:

- I haven’t flown much in the last decade

- I just want to get comfortable in my hang glider again.

- Yeah, I’ve heard of the comp next week. Am I participating in it? Heck no. I
don’t have any plans of going XC. But I could drive for you and your crew.

Over the next few days, I meet the rest of Tim’s crew, Matt and his wife Julia
who drove out from Colorado with the gliders.

0700hrs Friday, April 14th, 2017. I set up the Fusion for the first time in four
years. I have an early morning flight on it.

Oh my! Yeah, this wing wants to go! I am struck by the zip in this wing. I find
myself enjoying a few wing overs above the LZ, and my adrenaline and enthusiasm
spike. Not to mention my grin :)

My tune changes some.

- Hey guys, I don’t see myself seriously participating, but I’ll sign up for the
Sport Class of the Quest Open comp to be a team player and support the event.
What? No T-shirt? Oh well, it’s all good.

1100hrs Monday, April 17th, 2017. Day 1 of the comp. I’m all butterflies because
I’m gonna to fly, or try to fly, the task. Goal is a reasonable 41km. I hand
bomb a couple waypoints into my old Garmin 12 GPS, and I’m set. Tim and Davis
Straub explain to me that to submit a track log for scoring of my flight, all I
need to do is have Airtribune running on my iPhone in flight.

There are about six of us flying the sport class: Tim, Matt, Dave, Ricardo,
Mike, and me. We quickly become a very supportive and bonded group. After the
daily pilot meetings, we gather in Dave’s Taj Mahal 5th wheel to take in a
Google Earth view of the task and collaborate on strategy, like avoiding swamp
etc.

That day, it turns out only Tim makes Goal. Way to go Tim! I wind up flying
about halfway there. I land on the 16th fairway of the Royal Highlands Golf
community… in the rough. Ginny, a retiree (they’re all retirees), shouts out her
back door and asks if I’m all right. She invites me in to have a seat and enjoy
some cold water. I head back out to the glider on the 16th fairway where Golf
cart after golf cart drives by. I get many offers of water, pop, beer, etc., and
lots of offers to help me pack up. It’s a lot of fun.

Checking out the 16th fairway.

New friends at Royal Highlands

Back at Quest, everybody is so friendly and the Open guys want to hear about our
flights. Larry Bunner, John Simon, and other Open class pilots offer us some
pretty good advice on how to stay up and get to goal.

Day 2 Pilots meeting. The task committee does a fantastic job laying out really
good tasks for both the Open (serious dudes) and Sport (fun dudes) classes. The
Sport Class pilots congregate after the meeting, strategize, and get ready.

We Sport dudes try to fly as a gaggle, but we don’t seem to be able to get it
together that day. I climb to cloudbase and head out to the first waypoint on
my own. My glide is great and the tailwind helps. I’m hoping to come across some
lift on my glide, but my rusty skills don’t pick up on anything. After a few
failed attempts to work some light lift, I aim for a sunny field a bit upwind of
what looks like a good cloud. I’m down to 1000’ AGL, which makes me psyche up
for landing. I’ve already exceeded any expectations I had for the trip and I’m
ok with the idea of landing. Then, all of a sudden, I fly through some firm and
well-defined lift. I bank the glider steeply and climb that baby all the way up
:)

Where is cloud base exactly?

After another lengthy glide, it’s déjà vu.  I’m over a sunny field, 1000’ AGL,
getting psyched up to land. What a great flight. Just as I’m thinking “I’m ok
with the idea of landing”, I find another thermal.  A good bank and a few
minutes later I’m back up high, like 6000’ AGL.

What the heck?!  This is amazing!  Do I have goal on glide?

A little while later I overfly goal and scan the ground for the best place to
land.  I choose a fenced field on the edge of a residential neighborhood to land
in.  My chozen LZ is next to another field speckled with cows.  I’m on final,
and I’m about to overfly the barbed wire fence at 20 feet, when I notice one cow
leaning against the fence in what is to be my LZ.  One cow?  Crap!  That cow has
horns!  That cow is a bull!  Shit.  Oh well, too late, I’m committed.

I land and unhook.  I look at the bull.  And he looks at me.  We come to an
unspoken agreement to keep a good peaceful distance from each other.

I made goal!!

As the Quest Open comp progresses, I get gradually more comfortable and start
really enjoying the flying and the camaraderie.  That’s not to say everything
went smoothly.

I can’t remember if it was on day 3 or day 4 of the Quest open.  I’m hooked in,
prone, on the cart, in the launch line up, and I do a hang check. Aw crap!  One
of the pins that secure my reserve parachute into the harness has slipped out. 
That’s a no go for launch.  I pull out of line, and take the time required to
make it right.  I wind up towing up an hour and a half after everyone else.  I
have a great flight nonetheless. I am focused and relaxed having taken the time
to get things right.

Saturday, April 22nd, 2017.  Day 6 of the 7 day Quest Open competition. Day 12
of my hang gliding vacation. Another snag.  I’m all set to launch, and I see my
chest bridle has come apart.  No problem, Rich (one of the volunteers helping
with the comp) loans me his chest bridle and within 5 minutes I’m all set.
(Thanks, Rich).  Go-go-go - the tow plane fires up, and I start rolling on the
cart.  I feel the wing start to fly, and I let go of the cart for a graceful
lift off.  Right after lifting off from the cart I loose thrust.  Somehow the
tow line had released as I left the cart.  No worries. I get my feet down out of
the harness and focus for a graceful landing.

Not so much.

I let the nose get high, stall, whack, and bend a down tube. Crap! #$%!  I’m
annoyed, disappointed, and pissed off.  I move the glider off to the side of the
clubhouse as some repairs will be needed.  Everyone has launched and is on their
way to goal. I realize I’m pretty wound up and take some time to calm down.

A little while later, Julia, the nicest, most caring, and sweetest retrieve
driver I’ve ever had, wanders over to me and asks how things are.  I show her
the bent down tube :(  I continue to cool off and examine the downtube with a
finer eye.  The bend is quite even and long.  There are no creases, dings, or
cracks in the tube.  It’s the old faired style tube from the 90’s.  This is
where my soccer skills come in handy.  A couple of finely measured strikes with
the sole of my New Balance adorned foot, and the downtube is right as rain.

I take a little while longer to make sure my mind is right and have a fourth and
fifth look at the downtube.  I decide to tow up again.  It’s not a great day for
thermals, there is a lot of overcast, so I tell Julia I will likely just tow up
and come down and land a couple times. If I manage a climb, maybe I’ll decide to
attempt the task, but I’m not at all hopeful.

Quest musters up a tug for me, and I launch smoothly without incident.  On the
tow up we get bounced around a little - there’s some thermal activity.  At 1800’
I release and immediately turn back for a thermal we had just flown through and
what do you know…a little while later - guess who’s approaching cloudbase?

I admire pilots who can work the light lift and fly for several hours.  I’ve
long thought that a big factor that might help me perform better and improve my
endurance in the air is relaxation.  So that’s what I decide to focus on as I
point the nose of the glider towards goal.

I’d like to tell you that it all came together and I won the day.  That didn’t
happen.  But I felt I achieved a great personal victory.  After nearly two weeks
of daily flying, I felt good in the air and in my Fusion SP.  The sky was
getting increasingly overcast and the lift was really light.  I was relaxed and
much more attune to the air.

I glide on and work a little light lift near a small grass fire that had been
smoldering for a few days.  A little glide from there and I find that manure
field that the guys had been talking about the day before.  Believe me, as I
circled above at 2500', I had no doubt it was manure.

After a little more gliding and some gentle climbing, the ground shades over as
far as the eye can see.  I look out ahead towards goal and see the Florida
turnpike on what seems like a shallow but possible glide.  Let’s go.

I enjoy a nice long glide.  No lift to speak of, but my sink rate is light and
the turnpike stays at the same down angle - I have just enough height to make it.

I overfly the turnpike right at the Okahumpka Service Center and I’m able to eek
out a couple more kilometers.

For my LZ, I choose a beautiful field aligned perfectly with the wind right
along the turnpike.  I really feel the performance of the glider, and can
totally visualize my glide and approach.  Pulling the bar back and increasing
speed, I fly downwind behind line of trees at the end of the field.  I do a
continuous turn through base to final, and my baby and I fly beautifully through
a gap in the trees.  Into ground effect we go, the wing wonderfully steady.  As
I let the nose trim up, the glider slows down. I feel it at trim and push out
and up an authoritative flare.

The glider rotates perfectly but I’m just a touch high.  The flare kills all
forward speed, I keep my arms stretched up so the nose of the glider doesn’t
drop, and I come straight down onto both feet perfectly, no steps.  The downward
momentum and weight of the glider however are just a bit much, and I can’t
support the glider after my feet hit the ground.  Immediately, my knees bend and
I crouch down with my hands on the downtubes and come to rest the base tube of
the control frame onto the ground.  I’m just like Iron Man putting in a
righteous landing. Yes!

I had flown 32km.  Not a personal best.  But one of the best flights I’ve ever
had.  What a fantastic note to end the Quest Open and my little vacation on. 
After the blown launch, bent downtube, and considering how overcast the
conditions were, this flight was a gift.

Sunday, April 23rd.  Day 7 of the Quest Open.  The last day of the Quest Open
was called off due to developing bad weather. Consensus amongst the competitors
was that we had all had a great 6 days of flying and could afford to not fly. 
So we held the awards ceremony and shortly thereafter I packed up and hit the
road bound for Ottawa.

1600 hrs Sunday, April 23rd, 2017.  I’m on the road home.  I don’t know if I’ve
ever been so content, blessed with so many unanticipated gifts.  The two week
hang gliding trip; the great weather; the Quest Open comp; the wonderful
community of pilots and new friends; and wrapping it up with a great flight on a
day that could have gone otherwise.

I’m doing the Quest Open again next year.

From left to right: Philippe Michaud and mother Sylvie (Quebec), Tim Delaney
(Colorado), Julia Thakaberry and husband Matt Brown (Colorado), Phil Siscoe
(Ontario)