Flight of a Lifetime

1 After waiting for a strong cycle to pass, I launch at 12:45 into a perfect 10 mph straight in wind. Off to the left I go, to the shoulder ridge which runs SE down towards the LZ. Within 30 seconds, some decent lift allows me to circle back towards the knob east of the launch bowl. After about five minutes, while over the shoulder ridge, I find the first decent thermal of the day and start to circle. 10 minutes later I am at 14,000 ft over City Creek Peak. After 15 minutes, I am at 16,000 ft. Then after 30 minutes, I am circling at 18,000 ft just east of Puffer Lake, south of the snow capped Tushar Peaks of Delano and Belknap. Oh happy days! The winds back at launch must be a constant stream of thermals after all. And those flat clouds, now directly overhead, truly are cumulus which now show themselves lining up, off into the horizon to the north. 2

Flying north, staying east of the peaks of the Tushars, I observe the sky. Clouds are numerous to the north and east, forming in street-like segments near the mountain ranges. But off to the west, out in the desert, there doesn't appear to be any clouds at all. To the south, cus stretch all the way to Cedar City. It appears that I am on the western edge of a large, cu-filled air mass. Watching the drift of the cloud shadows below, the upper winds are light and out of the WSW. For the first time flying at Junction, I am high enough to consider actually crossing the Tushars west to Beaver, which is not a simple task since the Tushars are very wide indeed. At 18,000 ft, new possibilities are now viable. After dismissing the Beaver crossing thought, I continue north to prepare for a crossing of the Marysvale gap.

It turns out that the good lift is accompanied by bad sink. I am falling out of the sky as I approach the last big peak at the north end of the Tushars. So much so, that as I approach it, I have to turn away back to the east. Down to 11,300 ft 3, I am starting to get concerned, because I have spent more than one flight low on the foothills NW of Marysvale trying to get high enough for the crossing. But while still back in quite a ways, I encounter some sporadic lift allowing me to postpone a glide out east towards the valley. Working this lift patiently and persistently, I finally find a decent core and get plenty of altitude. (The three "P"s). At 18,000 ft over Big Rock Candy Mountain, I tell Chickadee, who is now stopped in Marysvale watching the wind, to go ahead and proceed north across the canyon to the little town of Joseph. It is now just past 2:00 pm. 4

At this point, I notice that I am under a cloud street which heads out directly towards Monroe Peak off to the NE. But there are also very good looking clouds streeting along the Pavant Range up ahead to the north. I have never crossed east over the Sevier Valley to the Colorado Plateau, which is where Monroe Peak lives, but that option looks quite appealing right now. However, I am having good luck so far staying on the western edge of the clouds, and it looks as though I can keep crabbing to the west and still stay up. So a decision is made to crab off to the NW, towards the south end of the Pavant Range, to intercept the cloud street which appears to start only a few miles away.

As I glide north from Big Rock Candy Mountain over I-70, I am indecisive as to which cloud to head towards. The correct move is to head to the western most cloud over the crest of the southern end of the Pavant Range, but I am sinking out real fast and don't want to get way back in there with no glide out. Another cloud is more to the east but is too far off my northerly course line. So I make the mistake of splitting the difference and head right between them over the sunny eastern foothills of the Pavants, sinking into a blue hole. Losing over 10,000 ft of altitude in a 25 minute glide, I find myself low over the little hills west of Elsinore. 5

Below 8000 ft, I am out of the cloud following realm and must base my thermal search decisions on ground formations. I glide directly over the knobbiest of the hills west of town and start to feel some lift. After working up three thousand feet in broken lift, I find a large, well formed, strong thermal core. Centering on this one, I settle into a constant bank turn that lifts me pretty much straight up, to above 19,000 ft. Back in the realm of the cloud, specked over the hills SW of Richfield, I see a really nice cu just to the west, over the spine of the Pavants. This high, I now have no concerns about being too far back in there, so I head west to intercept it. My personal goal to go above 20,000 ft is now on my mind as I glide. Reaching the cloud at 17,000 ft, I start to circle in good lift, and 5 minutes later I am at 20,200 ft and still well below cloudbase. It is now 3:15 pm. Having no oxygen system with me, I am starting to notice the onset of hypoxia with slurred speech, dripping nose and slowed thoughts. I think to myself: "Jeff, you're TOO HIGH!". 6

Looking north over the crest line of the Pavants, I see a line of clouds running the length of the range, and beyond. For the first time, the line of clouds are oriented directly along my course line to the north, so off I go in dolphin flight. From way up here, I can see a long way in every direction. To the cloudless west, I can see the white flats of the Sevier Lake bed, and Frisco Peak. And I see that Filmore, Meadow and Holden are right down there to my left. Up ahead to the north are Scipio Valley and Mount Nebo is way off in the distance. And there is absolutely no overdevelopment in any of the clouds. What a day! Slowing in lift and speeding up in sink, I fly north under the happy clouds for more than 30 minutes without making a turn, staying above 14,000 ft the whole time. Reaching for my water tube for a drink, I realize that it has frozen solid. Hmmmm, need to get low enough to thaw it out.

After deviating from the Pavants over Scipio valley, I arrive at Jap's valley and start to get low again, down to 11,500 ft. (You know its a good day when 11,000 ft is considered low!) Chickadee, on Hwy 89 at Gunnison, is in good position to get me if I go down here, but there are still some good clouds if I can get back up. 7

Keeping the three "P"s in mind, I find some more lift of the broken kind, and gradually work my way back up. After about 20 minutes I am back up to 16,000 over Yuba Reservoir. Its now just past 4:00 pm and the clouds are starting to become slightly less frequent. However, as I head out over the west facing slopes of the Horse Heaven Range, I see a new cloud forming out in front over the valley. Crabbing NW, I intercept the good lift under the cloud and climb back up to 17,000 ft. Chickadee informs me that there is a breeze out of the SW down on the ground. While climbing I, am drifting to the NE over the foothills. At 17,000 ft, I notice a new cloud out in front over the valley to the NW. This crabbing glide, thermal up, sawtooth flight path, continues as I ... 8

climb NE...
    glide NW...
        climb NE...
            glide NW...

Getting low again just short of Levan, I can see the 100 mile mark, Nephi, about 10 miles ahead. My previous longest flight from Junction was 102 miles to Nephi. If I can get just one more good thermal, I might be able to make it past Nephi, and break my personal best from Junction. As I glide right over Levan out in the valley, I am aware that I am getting pretty tired. I am ready to land, but the day still looks really good. Finding yet another thermal, I start climbing, and after gaining about 1500 feet, Chickadee calls me on the radio; "Hey Ridgerunner, do you see that dust devil out in the Valley? Wait a minute... there's two of them!". 9

It is now 5:00 pm. Looking north, I can see the two dust devils about 3 miles north of me out over the middle of the valley. One is a small one, but the other one is large, at least 50 ft in diameter at the base, and is tracking from the west over a burned field which has made it quite black near the bottom. Leaving the thermal, I break rule #2 and head straight for the swirling black beast. I know that a dust devil is always sure lift, and with more than 12,500 ft, I figure I can reach it safely with plenty of altitude. Although it is quite wide, it doesn't appear to be real tall yet. Getting close, I maneuver directly over the visible dust and encounter 800 fpm lift. Climbing out, back up to 18,000 ft, I see a most excellent cloud right over Nephi, which is only a couple miles away. Gliding to the cloud, more good lift is found, and I climb back up to nearly 20,000 ft. 10

The objective of this flight was to get a sight seeing flight from Junction, but this one just won't quit! Although I am south of Mount Nebo, it is obvious that I can easily glide past it and beyond. I call to Chickadee to proceed to Santaquin and I start the long glide over Nebo. During the glide I can see that there are now a few small clouds out in the western desert, but virtually none over Utah Valley. I am thinking that it is possible to go upwind around the western side of Utah Lake and stay out in the dry desert, but I am reminded of my tiring body. So I elect to hang a right past Nebo, and head out towards the irrigated metropolis. At the end of Nebo, it looks like I can make Payson on a glide. Down to 9,500 ft over the foothills south of Payson, I find some more lift, but I am plum tuckered out. 11 Looking to the north I can see Provo, where Bigfoot landed when he set the Junction site record, and looking straight up I can see yet another cloud. It is just past 5:45 pm. Thinking to myself; "If I can climb all the way out in this one, I can probably make Camels Back or, maybe even further on a glide". With this thought in mind, I get a second wind after sucking the last drops from my water bag, and start to work the lift.

For some reason, this thermal is quite turbulent, but it is going up at nearly 1000 fpm, so I hang on. After a while, I am back up to 17,200 south of Spanish Fork. 12 I look north to pick a line to glide. It looks as though the shortest line is right up the valley skirting the east side of Utah Lake, but just then, I see a 727 about a mile away and only a couple thousand feet above me coming from Spanish Fork Canyon turning up the valley towards SLC. I decide to head for the hills and immediately aim for "Y" mountain. Now over densely populated areas, landing zones are becoming an issue. I remember ZZ's flight, where he landed at the Inspo LZ from Frisco Peak. Yes, I can make it to that now but why not keep going if I can? I remember pilots telling me stories of glass smooth ridge lift on Cascade and Timpanogoes late in the day, but I have never experienced that before. Maybe the west wind is strong enough for that now. I look at my watch and see that its past 6:00 pm, and my altimeter says I am still over 12,000 ft as I glide over "Y" mountain. Yes, I will give it a try. Gliding down to Cascade, I arrive just over the top at 6:30 pm with 11,600 ft of altitude. 13 Another pilot! And yes it is soarable and quite smooth to boot! The idea of making it to Salt Lake Valley is welling up as a real possibility... "If I could just make it to Ray & Joan's house in Draper!"

Boating along the ridge, making a pass to the north end, I am climbing at a nice 150 fpm. I decide to make another full pass. I don't recognize the other pilot who is now over the south face. As I complete the second pass, I am up to 12,700 back at the north end. Time to cross. I inform Chickadee, who is at the Inspo LZ, to head north along the base of Timp. Crossing Provo canyon is uneventful, with mild sink, and I arrive at the south end of Timp about even with the top. Once again I am treated to smooth ridge lift as I progress down the spine. A thermal is found about halfway, and I circle up, climbing to above 13,500 ft. 14 At this point I am wondering if the wind is north at the Point. Well, there's one way to find out for sure, so off I go, aiming at the backside of the gap as I cross American Fork canyon.

Coming up on the west end of the south face of Lone Peak, it gradually becomes obvious that I have Draper on a glide. A feeling of exhausted euphoria envelopes me. I call Chickadee and tell her to go to Ray's house in Draper. Arriving at Lone with 10,500 ft, the wind is still out of the WSW. It is now 7:15 pm. I could most likely climb back up above the peak, but my exhaustion tells me to go land now. However, I am having mixed feelings. On one hand, I could have an easy landing in a large, familiar field in my buddy's backyard with a big windsock and a cold beer. But on the other hand, I could glide off more miles into Salt Lake with a landing in a yet to be determined LZ with a who knows what wind direction. Since I have been away from the Salt Lake area for several years, during which time a lot of development has occurred, I am unsure of the LZs to the north. So I decide to glide to Draper. 15 During the glide out to Draper, the sink is strong as I penetrate the mild headwind. As I drop to below 7000 ft, I wonder if I'll even make it out that far.

Then, as I realized that I would indeed make it all the way out, I start flying through lift. Continuing straight for a couple minutes the lift just gets better! 16 Even with the exhaustion, I can't resist a circle or two. By this time, Chickadee has arrived at the Attig residence and I tell her where I am. Sure enough, they now have me on visual. This lift is proving to be very widespread and has a respectable 400 fpm rate of climb too. The Wind Gods are telling me; "Keep going!". After a brief discussion with Ray about possible LZs, I cut the umbilical cord and commit to a continuation of the flight. The thermal is drifting to the NE over Sandy. Topping out at 9700 ft in front of the mouth of Big Cottonwood canyon, I start my final glide. 17

I see many potential landing zones out there; school fields, gravel pits, golf courses and one round irrigated field way out there. As I slowly glide out over the middle of the valley, I see a large flag showing a north wind. I ask Chickadee to check the weather radio again. She reports back that the winds at 7:00 pm were NE at 13 mph. Maybe that last thermal was actually a convergence between the north and south winds. I want to make it to the golf course by Tom's house, but it doesn't look like I'll make it that far. Wait a minute, that round green patch up ahead isn't a crop field after all. Its the same four-way baseball field I landed in years ago! There's a really nice grass strip runway along the west side, and I even remember the address! I call to Chickadee; "I will be landing by the baseball field at 45th south and 13th east, over". Since leaving the last thermal over Sandy, the air has been glass smooth. Arriving over the LZ with about 700 ft, I unzip my pod and scope out the situation. The grassy strip along the west side is uninhabited and free of obstructions. Planning my approach pattern, I notice that at least one of the games in progress has stopped and folks are looking up. As I enter a left hand pattern, a perfect approach is made, followed by a not quite perfect flared touchdown at 7:57 pm. Yes, I dropped the nose (but just barely). 18