Racing The Wind

It seems just yesterday that I was standing beside my plane, watching those low, fast moving, dark clouds roll by, wondering what weather would blow in from behind the tree line in the next few minutes. Small patches of blue sky could be seen from time to time through the turbulent vapors. Would it be rain or would it be shine. Would trying to fly be worth my time. Wait and see, just wait and see.

By this time, I was supposed to be flying a demonstration over Vanderbilt High School's fair where my wife, Lottie was minding our ultralight display. There were several potential customers waiting there to see the flight. Should I go, will this weather clear? Just wait and see!

OK, that's long enough! The lower clouds had thinned out to reveal large patches of blue between the higher, darker rain clouds that might be treacherous, `but I'll just avoid them', I thought. I fired up the little Yamaha and pointed my swing-seat toward the fair, about three miles away. As I approached, I could see that cumulo nimbus hanging there, parked directly over the school, calling my name, "Come on in Dennis, the weather's fine, come on over." I hesitated, but charged onward. There was an appointment that I was going to keep, and no petty, monstrous pile of water vapor was going to keep me from it! When I flew in closer, the base of the cloud didn't seem so well defined. Arriving over the fair at about 1000 ft., I found fast rising air that sucked me up to the 1700 ft. cloud base in no time. This was a terrific surprise and I cut power. For the next 10 or 20 minutes, I hung out under that cloud with the engine off, gliding up and into it, out of it and down, then right back up again. I found nooks and crannies to explore and had a great time at it, but soon realized that the cloud had drifted away from the fair site. I then flew back to finish the job at hand.

After my demonstration, I flew on back to the airstrip with thermals on my mind. I tied down and drove to the fair for break-down of the display. After dropping Lottie off at home, I returned to the airstrip to finish up the day's flying. I gassed up and was airborne again, looking for lift. The cloud base was higher now. I spotted my friends, the golden hawks, circling unusually high up under a flat bottom cloud. It looked like great lift to me, so I headed on over there.

Flying under the cloud, I felt a sudden kick in the pants and began climbing fast. After ascending several hundred feet, I cut power and continued to climb. I was in the strongest updraft I had ever seen. I circled and climbed, dove and played and never seemed to lose altitude. Soon I had ascended above the hawks and hadn't reached cloud base. Excited and having a great time, I was at least 3500 ft. up and still climbing like a rocket. When one wing rose, I would roll that direction to find greater lift. Looking down, I could see the hawks well below. Looking up, the cloud base was growing nearer and darker. With lift this strong, I knew not to enter the cloud so I kept a close eye on it. Still climbing closer, that dark cloud above seemed to stretch for miles, and grew more ominous by the second.

Fearing the stronger updrafts at the cloud, I started my decent from about 4000 ft. Not having an altimeter, I watched the scale of the airstrip to judge my height, and noticed it was getting smaller. Turning toward town, I was horrified to see dense rain and very large lightning bolts! With visions of BBQ'ed debris falling to earth, I turned away from the light show and nosed my little glider down steeply. Still feeling safe, I flew this decent for some time before I realized that the IAS was 50 mph, the earth was still pulling away and the cloud base was really close. The adrenalin began to surge in my body as I hung my feet out over the nose wheel and pulled my weight as far forward as I could. The Hall ASI only had up to 55 mph marked, and the yellow indicator was pegged at the top. My wing tips shuddered wildly as the wind howled past with my nose down 45 degrees. Every muscle was tense and hard at work. The cool wind on my face seemed to burn and I wondered just how strong this bird was. It still took quite awhile to see progress, but I finally leveled out to a more gentle glide.

Back on the strip now, the sun was out and the wind was light. Great flying weather, but my muscles were noodles and I was exhausted. Standing there in the sun, it was hard to believe what I had just gone through. I tied down and went on home with the old memory cells boiling. On the way, I drove right into my second encounter with that storm, but this time in the safety of my comfy old van.

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