Whoa. What a day. Day 1 of the pre-worlds and the competition is even stiffer than last week.
The first day of each comp our launch order has been based on our world ranking (days 2 and forward are based on your standing in the comp itself). Last week day 1, I was 27 to launch.
Today I was 47—meaning there are 20 more people here this week ranked higher than me.
So, rather than launch late, I went early in the 20 minute free-for-all and right off the bat, it was sweet.
Decent lift in front of launch, an easy glide to the Peñon and nice puffy clouds setting up over the 'Crazy Thermal Place'—a plateau on a ridge well named for it's strong and poorly held-together thermals.
In no time I was at cloud-base, around 11,000ft MSL and looking to pass about 45 minutes until the start gate.
Fortunately those clouds stuck around and rather than fighting to the typically insane (and dangerous) start-gaggles, I cruised the edge of the clouds trying to surf up the sides.
I didn't get much higher than base, but I was nicely positioned for the start and hit it well.
From there it was the now familiar ridge-run to the towers at a point called 'Divisidero'
Traditionally, I make this crossing too low and make the run at or below ridge height along a no-mans land of tree'd and rocky canyons with no good landings. Treeing yourself if you can't get up is generally the best option and we had at least one pilot do that today.
But with my start—and my improving line-picking skills—I actually had some height and made a pretty comfortable crossing high over the ridge and never in danger of unintended tree-surgery.
From Divisidero, we had to punch south over the flatlands to a town called Santa Maria. again, traditionally, I'd make this crossing a little low and uncomfortably, but today I had height and made it easily.
By the time I reached Santa Maria, the lead-gaggle was a bit ahead of me, but I was smack in the middle of the chase, and the race was just starting.
From here, we all thermalled up nicely and went on glide to a rock formation called 'Tres Reyes (Three Kings)' hoping to get some lift to boost us back up on the mesa and into the north valley where we could find a convergence and a good ride to the next turn point, a town called San Ramon.
Here, I made a mistake.
Most of the gaggle chose a line left of the Tres Reyes ridge, the windward side.
I saw clouds popping on the lee and decided to fall off right. Thing is I chickened out and didn't go deep enough to catch the clouds. This left me in a very crappy position—low and on the leeside of the ridge.
Knowing I was in trouble, I carefully evaluated the situation, and made a decision that put me in a _far_ worse position—seeing a few gliders on the _windward_ side get some lift, I dove toward the ridge, right into nasty rotor.
By the time I pulled out a bit, I had lost maybe 800ft of altitude (rotor pushes you down) and couldn't possibly hit the lift the windward gliders had found.
And now I was right where I promised myself I'd never get—dangerously low over trees without sufficient glide to make it down the slope to a field in the valley. Basically I had two choices:
1. Find lift
2. Bury myself in trees and wait for a rescue team with ropes
I've seen people do this sort of thing in comps before, dive deep into a bad place and pull out, but I'd never done it myself before and really really didn't like being there.
But as I always say, fear produces lift, and as I skirted downwind kicking tree tops, I found a little bit of mechanical lift. I was basically ridge soaring thermic gusts trying to find something I could stick in.
It was scary, but very focusing and I repeated in my head one of the lessons from last weeks training: &lquo;When low take whatever lift you have and stick it. Don't worry about finding something better until you are out of danger.&rquo;. And for once I did just that.
I surfed crap up maybe 50ft, up, down, up, down, basically maintaining until I got something I could crawl up.
I was sticking it ok, but I really needed a friend to be as dumb as me and come join me in my misery. Thank god for Brad Gunnuscio! The guys is an expert scratcher (and all around great pilot) and he was stuffed almost as bad as me.
After maybe 5 minutes on my own (felt like an hour), Brad glided over and we worked the shit up into a booming thermal. From pure misery to cloud-base in less than 15 minutes!
Once I was up high I could see that the north valley was clouding up and realized it was time to shift gears from race-race-race to chill-out-get-to-base-and-see-what-happens.
I was now, unfortunately, way behind the lead having lost them while groveling over the trees.
But an amazing thing happened—slowing down a bit (getting caught low) gave the sky enough time to set up a few different cloud-streets.
One took the traditional route to San Ramon—a wide-arc east of the valley, around to the north, then back west to San Ramon.
But there was a new second street heading northeast directly to San Ramon.
Normally it's a good idea to stay with other gliders even if there is a better option, because your chances of catching lift in a pack are exponentially higher than solo. But this looked really good and I dove in, cutting off the arc.
Matt Daddam and Jon Van Duzer made the decision easier by making the same decision a little ahead and lower than me. Now there are 3 of us and I'm in the better position.
This line worked sweet for me and I passed at least 40 gliders on the way to San Ramon.
Next we had to glide back south, upwind, and into a clouded over sky. Not a very promising crossing.
This time, rather than bee-line back to the next point, I did take the curve and headed to Sacamacate, out of the way, but a good place to find lift.
It worked. I climbed slowly to base and from there it was all about picking a good line, gliding fast and trying to catch the folks ahead of me.
I am still scared to push full bar on my new comp glider, but at about 80% I was able to hold it together and close the gap to Josh Cohn, who was just ahead of me,
He beat me in, but by only 15 seconds.
It was a sweet day.
