Alby flight No. 2 and pin No. 1 – Sergio Colacevich, 10/11/2008

Oh what a great flight, for Alby and for myself: Alby flew over the ocean and I did an unusual and difficult flight. It happened on the Saturday that was Octoberfest in Williams, but the weather that day was not the most desirable for the event: There was a strong north-northeast wind that had discouraged many pilots. At the morning briefings only half a dozen of pilots were present. The forecast was similar to yesterday’s, with strong winds from the north all over California. Yesterday the forecast was for 25 to 30 knots wind, some clouds with high bases (10,000’ to 11,000’) near the coast, a critical height of 7,000’ and a top height of 9,000’. That was a very unexpected forecast: why, with a north wind, would the lift go that high?

But in the afternoon from my office I could see the far away clouds so I believed the forecast was accurate. For the past few weeks I had focused on taking Alby to Byron and looking at the long way out I would have to use in Friday and realizing it would take me close to the coast at high altitude, the thought sprung out that in a day like this I could have taken Alby to the ocean. One of the things that I really wanted to begin Alby’s voyage was to take him over the Pacific waters, and eventually it will have to be done over the Atlantic waters too. So originally the plan was to take Alby to Hollister, much closer to the ocean than we are in Williams, and there Ramy would take care of doing the flight or having somebody do it. So I had the dismay feeling that I missed a good, albeit unexpected, occasion to do a very fitting flight, innovative and especially fitting to Alby (it is not easy at all to reach the ocean even from Hollister, although it is nearer).

On Friday evening the forecast for Saturday was similar but not as favorable: yes there was a band of high lift close to the coast, but lower than yesterday reaching 8,000’, and no clouds. There was a band of poorer heights (6,000’) in the interior, that had to be crossed. Thermal strength was about 5 knots versus yesterday’s 6. And the winds were still strong, although a little less at 25 knots. Still heavy with the disillusion of having missed yesterday’s occasion, I commit myself to try the flight anyway; you never know what happens until you are there.

I start at 11:48 after Luke who evidently took the first lift he found and missed it, and was coming back to landing. We find a couple of lifting areas on the way but I resist until we are downwind of the ridge that goes to the Tree Farm. From release altitude at 6,000’ we circle to about 9,000’ being drifted downwind about 3 miles by a 21 knots wind. One mile away I could see Luke, who meanwhile had taken another tow, just going straight upwind and climbing. The lift is very smooth although weak at 2 knots and we both think it is wave, although it is unusual to climb going upwind for such a long stretch rather than across the wind. However, it is parallel to the lesser ranges bordering the San Joaquin Valley.

Reaching 9,000’ I move along the ridge in the direction of the Tree Farm, but the lift is not there. Sink begins. I move swiftly towards the backside of Goat Mountain, but I find no wave there. We are losing altitude rapidly and we turn back promptly. Unrelenting sink forces us back towards the area where I found lift before, which we reach at 4,500’, while Luke says he is at 12,000’ above us now.

Down here I sense some lift and scratch around for 15 minutes before finding one knot, than two. But it becomes better and better until we are going up with 5 knots in the averager and for a couple of minutes with 6 knots. At 13,000’ the lift ends and I begin to move west. The evening before I had studied different scenarios, like going to Ukiah or things like that but in the actual situation I regress to familiar routes, directing towards Mt. Saint Helena to look for wave there. I have the McCready at 1 knot and my speed over the ground is pretty swift. But it does not work as expected. I am finding continued sink. I find a bit of lift in front of Mt. Konocti but not in the back of it, same for Mt. Cobb. At Mt. St Helena too, there is some poor lift upwind, but sink downwind. Over the middle of the Calistoga Valley I find a little thermal which takes us back to 8,500’, and so encouraged I continue west.

I am in unknown territory now. In the morning I had placed in the GPS the airport of Healdsburg, and that is my only reference around here. I am still high at almost 7,000’ and still checking my glide to Healdsburg when I stop in a thermal and with big surprise I find out I am above a majestic airport, with two runways angled in a “V” shape. It is the Sonoma County airport. That’s a good new. Now the coast is about 20 miles away and really tempting. I force myself to still look for areas of possible lift, and I find one that takes us slowly to 7,500’. This should be reassuring in most circumstances but still I do not trust the incomprehensible features of the day. I have been twice today in strong unrelenting sink without finding a way out until the sink stopped without apparent reasons.

I do the last 8 miles to the coast still apprehensive about the altitude, and I go over the ocean for only a half a mile or so. The ocean is a beautiful sight, with the strong winds producing foaming waves that run parallel to the coast. I notice how the wind on the ocean is converging towards the coast while the winds on the land are going towards the ocean, albeit at a shallow angle. There might possibly be some lift generated somewhere where the winds meet but I do not find trace of it. As it so happens, we are north of Bodega Bay and just south of the Russian River, and I recognize the places where I visited with my wife time ago.

I go back to the last thermal and nearby I find another one that takes us back to 7,000’. Of course the next step is to look for the Sonoma airport where I found that nice thermal before and I find it again and climb to 8,ooo’. This is encouraging. I would be happy landing here but I can try to go to Crazy Creek. We direct more or less upwind. To the north of Mt. Saint Helena I find enough lift to get in glide to Crazy Creek, which I reach shortly thereafter. Of course the going is slow with such a headwind, but near the coast had been benign, about 12 knots, and I even found 8 knots. Just on top of the Crazy Creek airstrip I find good wide lift that takes us to 8,000’ where I read 16 knots wind. Notwithstanding the wind I have Charters just exactly in glide. Let’s see what happens now.

I direct more or less towards the Three Sisters that I can recognize from here. Immediately I find some sink, which once again does not stop but continues unabated. I have –2, -3 in the “Netto” which translates to –4, -5 actual sink. We are losing altitude desperately and quickly. Charters is no more in glide but I am proceeding just waiting for some lift to appear, with an eye on my glide to Crazy Creek. All of a sudden I realize that if I go back I have to pass trough the same sink I just encountered. I check the computer: I have 1,500’ above glide for Crazy Creek, and I turn back immediately.

Of course I am taking a different route, more to the west and I find that the sink is milder here. I am going towards a knoll that in the past has been good producer of thermals. It works, and I go up to 7300’ before the lift peters out. While climbing I had decided to go straight upwind, because this is what seems to work today. I take aim at the knoll (we have drifted 4 miles) look far away to a reference point and find us directed to a point west of the Walker Ridge. By coincidence, it looks we are directing straight to the place where we have found the wave at the beginning of the flight. I take it as a good omen and go, thinking that if I cannot make it now, I will land back in Crazy Creek and get a retrieve.

But it works great. I find much-reduced sink and some bumps of lift. I move the McCready to find the best speed to fly and find out that if I set it at 1,5 knots; I can reach Charters at the highest possible altitude. I am 1000’ below glide for Charters but in glide for Crazy Creek so I continue until, I find lift! Yes it takes us back 2 miles but it takes us from 5,500’ to 7,600’ and now I have more than a thousand feet above glide for Williams! I feel totally relieved. Without this last thermal, the flight would probably end at Crazy Creek.

On the long final glide I also take full realization of the clarity of the atmosphere today. At all times during the flight I could see far and clear, from Williams to the coastline. The computer makes us point the glider nose about 30 degrees to the north of the direction for Williams, because now the wind has come back to about 20 knots from my left.

The last episode of the retreat to Crazy Creek, the milder sink on a different route, and similar findings coming back from the coast makes me realize that today we did not have wave at all. When you go cross-country in wave, you find alternate bands of lift and sink oriented across the wind. Today, the bands were oriented along the wind. That is why at the Farm Tree we stayed in the lift going directly upwind. It may happen that we have large bands of lift in wave days, but not this large; and we have sink before and after the lift, which we did not have today. The lift at the Farm Tree was so smooth that it really resembled wave, but it was not: It was a convergence line. The whole day we passed through sinking and lifting convergence lines and I never realized it until now. The main reason why we thought it was wave is because the lift was so smooth, smooth like a wave.

I have seen this phenomenon in Texas in some days: clouds form in the early morning with bases of less than 1,000’ and organize in parallel cylindrical rolls oriented with the wind, spaced 1 mile or so. The rolls extend to the visible horizon, you can see the clouds moving downwind and you can see the internal movement of the roll, lifting in the middle and cascading on both sides. The formation continues until mid morning increasing rapidly in altitude until the pattern disappears in the general turbulence of the summer day convection.

On the ground I feel triumphant, elated like at my first flights many years ago: Alby has now made his flight over the Ocean, his Voyage has started. I do not think anybody has ever done a flight like this from Williams: normally it is impossible to do it, and on the rare day it is possible to do it, nobody does it because there is no special reason to do it. But we (Alby and I) had a reason and we did it, no matter how unlikely it was at the beginning of the day. At dinner one of the presents tells me that a curious thing happened about ten years ago. An albatross was found, apparently lost, just there at Bodega Bay. It was named “The Lost Albatross”, and it made the news for one week, after which it took flight and disappeared.

What a parallel with Alby’s story and what a fitting coincidence. Sometimes reality is more fantastic than fantasy.

View flight on OLC