Gaggle Flying Rules the Roost In Roldanillo

Hopefully this blog will be an article published soon in the US Paragliding Magazine.  If not, well, it's here!  

The Eagles have landed in Colombia during the months of January and February 2014.  Eagle Paragliding Tours, that is, led by US Paragliding Team Coach Rob Sporrer and his wife Marite, out of Santa Barbara, California; along with Brad Gunnuscio out of Utah. They were accompanied by some highly talented guides, including Brian Howell; 2013 USHPA PG Instructor of the Year Jesse Meyer; and US Paragliding Team Pilots Marty Divietti and Matt Beechinor.  This is Eagle Paragliding's 4th year of leading winter tours down to Colombia, and this year the participants and guides really synced up and flew like a convocation of eagles!  The Eagle tour guides were able to give personalized attention to each pilot, flying in small groups and helping individuals to set personal bests and accomplish many flying goals.   All guides were also tandem pilots, and as part of the tour, participants could use tandem flights to accelerate their learning curve.  Often there were two or three tandems a day out flying with the gaggle.

Yep, we're talking about Colombia, South America. It's warm down here while most of the USA is in the deep freeze covered in white stuff. Here, we fly in the mountains. We fly in the flat valleys. We fly when a few raindrops fall, and when the sun shines, and when the clouds dot the landscape like icebergs in the north sea. And mostly, we fly in gaggles. It's safer. We sink out less. We go further, and fly longer, and land together in places where we can pack up and head to the center of the nearest village for a refreshing drink.

From the east facing main launch above the town of Roldanillo (dominant winds in the southern hemisphere are from the east), the mountains flow both north and south up to 3,000 feet above the valley. Here the last vestiges of the great Andes spine begin fade into the sea. XC flights are possible in either direction on most days.  However, the real challenge begins when the valleys heat up.  As the mountains often overdevelop in the afternoon, the safer and smoother place to fly is out over the Valle del Cauca. Pilots must choose when to leave the safety of the house thermal and take their chances soaring over sugar cane fields, grapevines, and other lush green crops. But valley flying isn't as simple as it sounds, and having a gaggle of pilots to spread out to find lift makes sinking out less of a worry. A little bit less, anyway!

The milk run from Roldanillo is about a 30 km square around the valley.  Launch on a grassy slope, and explore the mountains while waiting for the flats to turn on. Then cross the valley to the small town of Zarzal, which the guides like to call a thermal factory! From Zarzal, fly north to the village of La Victoria, and finally back across the valley to the little town La Union, tucked into a curve of the mountains. There is usually possible to land in the soccer stadium to the tune of friendly kids cheering us on.

The drive up to launch is entertaining, too, guided by Chipri in his custom-built yellow bus, beautifully hand painted inside and out by students from a local school. His unique horn is recognized by everyone in town and often blared to announce his passing.  Retrieves in the valley are pretty simple as well (yay!). Main roads form a square around the valley, and jeep driver Flacco hunts down grounded pilots and gets them back to Chipri or to the town square. Pilots then can rehydrate with pitchers of fresh-squeezed juice, or fill up on rotisserie chicken while people-watching on the square.  For those pilots who really decide to send it long, public buses are plentiful and it's usually easy to find connections back to La Union!

During the first week of the Eagle tour this year, there was a big competition going on in Roldanillo; the 2014 Colombia National Championship and FAI Open. This made launch very crowded and the number of wings in the air was staggering to some of the newer pilots. So the Eagle tour participants started adding streamers to their harnesses to be able to find each other in the air. By the middle of the week, the gaggle of flying streamers had become so popular that non-Eagle pilots were asking to use them. Even a few competition pilots, (it was rumored) started flying with us instead of competing!

The people of Colombia are super friendly, too. They are eager to show visitors that Colombia is now a safe, beautiful place to visit, and are happy to have pilots flying around in their skies. Often the first question a local asks is "How do you like our country?" or "How are the people here?", which of course I always answer by saying "La gente son muy amables!" meaning "Everyone is very friendly!"

Out of a month of flying, only 4 days were lost due to rainy weather…that's amazing! Also amazing are some of the flights by Eagle pilots during the tours, including XC distances of 60, 80, and 99 kilometers…including 80k on a tandem. Yep, and the tandem only landed after 80k because the passenger had to (ahem) use the facilities.

There are a lot of places left to explore in Colombia, and the 2015 Eagle tour may include a chance to do some mock competition flying, or even some Vol Biv. But one thing is certain: gaggles rule and next year there will be more Eagles out soaring together in Colombia!

Bonneville Shoreline Trail

Utah is an amazing place to live.   I wake up in the morning and see snow on the mountains and blooms on the apple trees in the valley.   But the Salt Lake valley where most of the population now lives, used to be under the water of a big lake, much bigger than the Great Salt Lake remnants which remain today.   Lake Bonneville was truly huge, and the old shoreline can be seen edging along the Wasatch front range and along hillsides all around the valley.    Some sections of this ancient shoreline have now been made into a hiking/biking/horseback riding trail.  

We're still exploring the area and sussing out the local hiking trails, so Jim and I decided to check out a section of the Bonneville Shoreline Trail south of the town of Alpine.  According to the map, the trail clearly runs along the edge of the mountains under the shadow of Mount Timpanogos.   Near where we live, this trail is well signed and easy to find.   Not so much in this area.  We had to do a little route finding by pulling out the topo map and coordinating with the GPS in my phone.   There are multiple trails running along at times so I can't be sure we were actually on the trail the whole way, but we had a nice hike on a beautiful day.  Parts of the trail run through scrub oak, grasslands, and of course behind a few new housing developments.   It even is possible to connect to trails over the Point of the Mountain to the paths behind our house, which gives me ideas for future long hikes….   But be warned, there are no trails signs (yet), so you may have to bring a map or make a few guesses if you decide to follow the BST!

Bishops Peak Trail

Well, the weather in Utah this spring hasn't been impressing me with the BTU's at all….it's been cold and rainy more than anything else.  Not that I'm complaining…rain in the desert is always good!  But it was also nice to zip out to central CA for a few days of sunshine and heat.   We were visiting family but found some time to head over to our favorite hike in the area for a great workout.  

Bishops Peak is the tallest of nine Morros that rise above the valley near San Luis Obispo.   The hike is only about 4 miles roundtrip, but with 1000 feet of elevation gain, this rocky summit is anything but flat.  The trail starts by darting into a nice shady oak forest, a chance to stay cool for a few minutes at least.   It then descends past a rock climbing area before cutting the corner into open hillside.  The trail is quite technical, rocky and sandy, making each step one to watch for.   But the payoffs are great views  and hopefully a nice breeze at the top.  The summit is rocky and a great playground for boulder hopping.  

We choose a hot day to do the hike, and in a quest for a hard workout, did the whole loop twice!   The thermometer said 89 degrees when we got back to the car, and it was only the stiff breeze that made it doable.   But the hills were spring green and the sky was blue…a great day to be outdoors.  

Salt Flats 50 Miler - 26 April 2014

The Salt Flats 100 is now in it's 4th year, and this year there is also the inaugural 50 mile edition, which seemed perfect for my training plans.   Plus it's on the Bonneville Salt Flats, which in terms of the terrain I've raced over, would be somewhat unique.   And flat.  And fast.  Warm.

Maybe sunny.

So I just lived in the UK for three years, and amazingly enough, most of my races there turned out to have pretty decent weather.   Or maybe I just got used to being outside in disgusting conditions and started to think that wind and rain was normal?  Either way, I'm now adjusting to heat, sunshine, and dehydration.  Or am I?   As I was packing for this race and checking the weather, I wasn't sure if I could believe the forecast.

High Winds:  Check

Lots of Rain: Check

Occasional Snow Flurries: Check

Flooding: Check

Terrible Weather:  Check

Am I in England?  Check 

Wait a minute….it's the Salt Flats.   To be fair, the race did warn that the weather could be anything from 20 to 80 degrees.   The run was supposed to start out over the salt flats, but when we arrived for the 5 am start, it had been raining all night, and the salt flats were now a salt lake…the whole thing was under 6 inches of water.   Even the Porta Johns just off the end of the pavement were unreachable…not to mention this sad little tent which was also sitting in half a foot of water.   Whoops, bad choice of sleeping spots.

Luckily, the race director had a bad weather plan.    Instead of running through the new lake, we would be diverted around on paved and gravel roads until the new route met up with the "floating island" trails for the second half of the race.   Or would we?

We set off in pouring rain in pitch black, just a trail of headlamps down the road.   I had forgotten my headlamp but it didn't matter much, as I could follow the stripes on the road even in a downpour.  At least, it was fine until everyone around me (with headlamps) missed the first turnoff due to inattention.   Whoops.  We found the turnoff soon enough and began dodging puddles on a gravel road.  For a couple of minutes, anyway.

A vehicle soon approached and told us that the rain was making it impossible to get to the aid stations, and that they would have to CANCEL the race!  (It's now 2 days later, and there are still vehicles and drop bags stranded at an aid station due to the flooding…)  So we had only gone 5 1/2 miles and were already miserably wet, and everyone began turning around to run back to the Start/Finish to go home.   Although the offer was there that if we wanted to do the 50 mile distance, we would have to run back and forth on a 4 mile stretch of blacktop which wasn't flooded.   It was mentally difficult to think of running in this weather for 50 miles on blacktop, but the woman next to me wanted to finish her first 50 miler, so I decided to do it, too.  After all, I've never let weather stop me from finishing a race.

I think about 8 people out of about 50 decided to keep running.  It was more of a mental challenge than anything…I was looking for reasons to keep running when I was wet and cold and miserable out there on a surface so flat that the curvature of the earth make the ends look like a mirage.

Luckily Jim was there to boost up my morale along the way,  by bringing me hot chocolate and loaning me his rain jacket when I just couldn't stay warm enough.  The temps were hovering in the upper 30s for the first 6 hours with sideways rain.

Miserable.

The weather improved slightly in the afternoon.  The rain stopped, the winds went down, and for a short time I could even take off my rain jacket and pretend to feel warm enough.  The clouds lifted and finally I could see the hills around me (which did seem to be floating on the salt lake), plus laugh again at the drowned Porta Johns and the flooded tent.   Jim walked with me for a couple of miles, which is always welcome when the time seems to be dragging about mile 30!

The race volunteers were mostly concerned with getting their vehicles safely off the trails and finding all of the poor 100 milers who had been out all night in the disgusting weather.   The 100 milers continued to finish most of the morning and afternoon, and looked pretty miserable.  So the few 50 milers who stuck around were mainly left to keep track of their own mileage and get what they needed for food and water at the finish line (which we saw every 8 miles).    I took an extra long loop a couple of times to go to the C-Store at the interstate exit for their bathrooms, to avoid walking out into the flooded Porta Johns!  

At the finish, finally!

Anyway, blah, blah, blah, the miles went by really slowly and the mileage markers were incredibly far apart.   They were about the only thing that changed in the scenery, aside from the orange peel on the road at mile 2, and the broken printer half under water at mile 3.5, the pile of mud on the road at about mile 1, and the vehicles at the finish which got ever so slowly bigger .  I saw them all about ten times.   Watching the salt flats flood, and even start drying out by the end of the day, was also fascinating.  I mean that.

It was good to finish.  I managed to sprint it in after walking the last couple of miles with some new race friends.   Finish times don't matter much, but I think I did it in about 11 hours 30 minutes.

Results should be on the website soon, if only to prove all of the chaos really happened.  All I can say is, thank goodness it's over!  Although I wouldn't mind coming back to do this race in good weather…it must be more scenic to be out on the true course.

Surprise Marathon Morning

To say life has been crazy this spring has been an understatement.   So my running races have had to take a backseat to other commitments, like buying a house (yikes!).    And my most recent race in southern Utah got derailed to a last minute sore throat.  Double bummer.  Life is very good overall, but I need a challenge and I've missed my long runs.

So a few days later after my lost race, when I was feeling better and getting antsy, I knew I needed to get in a long run.   When I woke up at 4 in the morning on a beautiful calm day, I knew it was go time.    It only took me a few minutes to throw some snacks in a running pack and set off into the darkness.   My headlamp batteries were practically dead, so I stayed on lighted streets through Draper and Sandy, Utah.  A few hours later when it finally started to get light, I crossed over the interstate and found the Jordan River Trail, which runs for over 50 miles down the Salt Lake valley.

The trail runs along the Jordan river (duh), but it also finds some of the quietest places in a valley which is becoming more and more populated.  In short, it's a great trail for running, walking, biking and rollerblading.   I love the fact that it's close to my new house.  Along with a couple more nice running trails in Draper and Sandy, they offer great places to get out for a quick run.

So anyway, I'm having a great run along the trail, the temperature stays cool and I'm happily surprised my legs aren't hurting too much.   My route makes a pretty good circle and I'm hoping it will be at least 26.1 miles (as if somehow running a marathon is so much better than stopping at 25.7 miles or some other random distance)?!?  By late morning it's getting pretty warm and I'm still a ways from home.   Whoops.  Guess I'll be doing an ultramarathon of some sort.   At the last push on a busy road, I run out of water, cross the interstate, and know I'm close to finishing.    I end up with 28.3 miles in about 5:45...no speed records set but running in the dark down sidewalks really slows down my pace.  I don't want to do a face plant, after all!    I ran the whole way in almost-but-not-quite-barefoot shoes on pavement, and I'm pleasantly surprised to have no shin splints or other pain.   I guess I'm a reluctant convert to this whole minimalist shoe craze.   My feet do feel really light in these shoes....hope it makes me run faster, too!

Video: We Are Pilots. Part II

The second part of Julie Spiegler's trilogy about women paraglider pilots.   I'm in there screaming at the beginning...odd because I don't usually shout very much.  I guess flying just makes me excited!

Thanks Julie for putting this together!



We Are Pilots.Two - Part II "Follow Me..." from we-are-pilots. on Vimeo.

Longest duration solo flight of 93k in Colombia!

I've been down here in La Union, Colombia for a month on a paragliding tour.  Yup, that's Colombia, South America.  It's warm here while most of the USA is in the deep freeze covered in the white stuff.  Here, we fly in the mountains.  We fly in the flat valleys.  We fly when a few raindrops fall, and when the sun shines, and when the clouds dot the landscape like icebergs in the north sea.  And mostly, we fly in gaggles.  It's safer.  We sink out less.  We go further, and fly longer, and land together in places where we can pack up and head to the center of the nearest town for fresh juice, rotisserie chicken and plates of french fries.  

Sometimes, I like to fly by myself.   It's challenging.  In the flats, it becomes much easier to sink out and land in the middle of nowhere, sweating while packing up in the hot sun wondering why I left the safety of the group.  But I do it anyway.  I have set some pretty audacious goals for myself, and learning to fly alone is pretty mandatory.  Plus, secretly or not so secretly, I just love pointing my paraglider in a direction and heading out there solo to see what adventures I can find.  

The packed ride up to launch in the yellow bus

Our main launch down here in Colombia is just above the small town of Roldanillo.  From there it is possible to fly north or south in the mountains, or east into the flats and across to another low ridge.   Our flight plan every day usually includes some or all of these moves, and the traverse across the valley and back to land near our hotel in La Union is flown so often it could be called a milk run.   In other words, it's almost easy.   In a gaggle.  

I'm flying a new wing this winter, and I absolutely love it.   It's an Ozone Delta 2 with some sweet colors....I just wish I could see the top of my own wing when I'm flying!   But I've gotten a few people to take some pictures of it so I know what I look like out there in the sky.

With almost 25 pilots in our tour this week, it takes a while to launch everyone off the takeoff, and the house thermal in front of launch gets a little crowded.  One day I just set off heading south while waiting for everyone to get higher, and then instead of waiting, I just kept flying.  One ridge became 3, and then I couldn't see them any more.  Yet the lift was good and the mountains were working great.  On the radio I could hear the group heading out in the valley, and I just kept flying down the ridges to see how far I could go.  

We had flown some of this before so the moves were easy, then into new territory I slowed up to keep myself in the air.  Finally I felt I could go no further south and turned into the valley near the town of Tulua.   The glide over the valley almost put me into the sugar cane fields, but a fire thermal from a burning field kept me in the game and got me across.  They burn the sugar cane fields here before they are harvested to get rid of the  extra leaves...there are always fires burning in the valley at midday.  Perhaps I should call this one a campfire thermal, though…it wasn't a huge field of cane burning, really just a small smoking saving grace.  

Once into the foothills across the valley, I was sky high and then trying to catch back up to the gaggle flying far to the north.  I surfed the cloud streets, pushing a lot of speed bar, making minimal turns and covering a lot of distance.  Soon enough I passed our normal crossing at the village of Zarzal and made it up to La Victoria.   In the meantime, though, the group had landed in La Union and the west wind had kicked up. The west wind from the ocean comes every day in the afternoon, making landings near the mountains too dangerous.  I needed to land in the flats where the winds didn't penetrate as far.  So for the last part of the flight, I climbed up to 8500 feet (above the valley floor at 3100 feet) and then just pointed my wing north to see how far I could go.   I landed somewhere past the small town of Obando, where I declined to catch another fire thermal and set it down in a pasture instead.   

Photos courtesy of Marty DeVietti

A group of kids came running my way, and I just had time to take off my wet diaper (hey, 5 hours of airtime is too long to hold it!) before they arrived.   I packed up quickly before my eager audience, and then about 10 kids helped me navigate the fields back to the highway.   Instead of calling for a ride, I decided to find my own way back home, and immediately caught a ride with a truck driver through Obando back to the turnoff for La Victoria.  We had a spirited conversation before he dropped me off, and then I tried to flag down a bus while walking into the center of town.  For some reason the buses wouldn't stop, and I walked a couple of miles before a sympathetic woman on a scooter gave me a short ride to the bus station.  

There was a bus waiting to go to La Union, but it was empty and waiting for passengers, so I had time to drink a soda and cool off a little.   No passengers ever seemed to come, so some time later the bus driver asked me if I wanted to hire the whole bus to go now instead of waiting longer.  It would cost me about 8,000 pesos, the equivalent of $4, so I said yes!   In La Union, I met a friend for pizza at the only decent restaurant in town, and then caught my last ride of the day, a tricycle taxi back to the hotel.  

5:20 of airtime is officially my longest flight (duration) for a total of 93 kilometers.   Too bad I didn't catch that fire thermal to make it an even 100k….

Here's a flight validation from XCSKies....I suspect the nearness of the ocean is why I didn't get up to the predicted  lift altitude as XCSkies can't account for the ocean influence.   8500 feet is about the highest we ever get in this valley.
http://www.xcskies.com/cgi-bin/map/reviewlog.cgi?tid=1877#