On Saturday, I went hiking with Emily and Chris to Mt. Lillian near Blewett Pass. A week prior I was hovering over Lillian trying to claw my way up, with Keith Wiggins in our club's two-place Lark. It was nice to explore the area this time from the ground.

On Sunday I went to the airport late, at three, just to see what was happening (not much), and ended up taking another walk, this time touring the massive earth-moving project associated with the runway 12-30 extension and installation of an ILS instrument landing system.

On Monday, September 5, 2005, however, the soaring weather predictions were better. I was pleased to see Laviniu pulling into our club's parking lot just ahead of me; and Kurt following shortly afterwards (that day, the club members made many flights, it turned out).

We launched at one; thermals were strong already, and enabled us going cross-country. Even though the only clouds visible were those ringing the horizon over distant mountains (the Spokane bunch reported getting to them), we were out in the blue. However, the thermals were visible from a long distance regardless, marked by spindly thin dust devils reaching several thousand feet high from the ground. They were five to ten miles apart. I decided to head east, towards Ephrata, and Laviniu followed. Our cruising band was between five and seven thousand feet MSL. Near Beezley I rendez-voused with Jim Simmons flying a Nimbus 3, it was nice to share the thermal. Also in the air from Ephrata was someone flying the PW5. I did not recognize the voice, only later I found out it was Jim Dobberfuhl, flying a borrowed ship. He is Simmons' partner in the Nimbus.

I veered off to the northeast, while Laviniu continued on to Ephrata. I made a long glide to Summer Falls, not finding anything along the way; after some scratching I eventually found some lift and while working that, a nice fat dust devil developed about a mile south of me; so I jumped to it, and I was back in the cruising mode soon afterwards, continuing further east, eventually until about seven miles northeast of Wilson Creek. I could have gone on; there were dust devils developing farther east. However, it was a lonely going; in the meantime, Jim in the Nimbus went north to Electric City, Jim in the PW5 to Waterville, and Laviniu to Mansfield. I turned around and headed to Mansfield, to rejoin Laviniu. Looking at the landscape from a different angle made spotting dust devils easier (they are harder to see when you are looking away from the sun). My cross-country speed picked up by about twenty percent on the leg to the northwest.

During the time I was approaching Mansfield I scouted the horizon to the west. There were some nicely developed clouds west of Chelan; doing a mental triangulation I determined they did not start until the end of the lake, about sixty miles away. Unfortunately, there was a gap between them and the clouds farther south, over the Chiwaukum Mountains south of Lake Wenatchee. However, there was an almost continuous line of clouds running from Chiwaukum across Stuart all the way to Four Corners, past Mission Ridge. I figured I could perhaps get to this street by way of Jumpoff ridge, an access route starting at the Columbia River next to Rock Island Dam.

It was fifty miles from Mansfield to Four Corners. The time was three thirty when I announced to Laviniu - who at that time was trying to get to Anderson - that I was turning over Mansfield and started heading for the clouds over Mission. Laviniu decided to join and we flew back to Wenatchee; choosing separate paths. I used four thermals to get to Columbia; the last one boosted me one thousand feet lower than I wanted to be before making the jump across; and I arrived above the Jumpoff radio tower at 5,500'. The wind was from the southeast, not so good for creating any ridge lift. But there were two good thermals that enabled me to climb to 6,000' and to continue farther upridge.

I radioed Laviniu assuring him that there were working thermals on Jumpoff. I was somewhat puzzled when at one point he said he was at 6,000' and soon after he announced that he was switching to the airport frequency and that he'd land.

Near the Lookout tower I cored a good thermal from 5,600' and got lifted to 7,400 - enough for moving on to the end of Jumpoff where it dead ends against the main Mission Ridge, arriving there about 500' above the terrain. To my disappointment, all the nice clouds I saw from Mansfield dissipated in the meantime; there were only some remaining wisps half-way up to Stuart. However, thermals were still there even though they lost their visible caps. After a successive traverse from one broken lift scrap - gradually bumping up 200', then 400' and then 700', I finally struck the bonanza running into strong lift (feeling like a 8 knot but actually averaging only 4), nevertheless, it did lift me to 9,400', far higher than I've been the whole day prior. It was like a new flight has started. All changed; perspective, feel of the air, everything. I decided to forego a search for elusive thermals along the usual route following the spine of Mission Ridge, Lillian, etc., and instead headed directly for the last scraps of visible clouds, south of Blewett Pass, over the high ground north of Table Mountain. I gained 400' and the courage to continue farther toward Stuart, departing from comfortable 9,100'. There was lift over the highest hills below; and this time marked by wisps; eventually I arrived over the Three Brothers at 9,200' and climbed to 9,700' - comfortably high to cross the abyss of Ingalls Valley and connect to lift over the jagged peaks jutting to 8,800', south of Lake Colchuck. Usually lift there is very powerful and broken by wind, quite turbulent. This time, however, it was gentler, and I was able to do quite a bit of sightseeing, looking for mountain climbers atop Mt. Stuart (none), condition of snow on the south side of the mountain (none), and the crevasses and the extent of the glaciers on the north wall of Mt. Stuart (see photos).

Looking straight down at the summit of Mt Stuart.

The glaciers on the north wall of Stuart.

I never before noticed the glacial morraine, nicely accentuated by low sunlight.

After I had my fill of aerial exploration of the area, I headed north to clouds over the ridge leading to Mt. Cashmere, and then across Icicle Valley to Chiwaukum, where the last clouds ended.

The jagged peak with three summits on the horizon is Baring Mountain, between Skykomish and Index.

The pointy Rock Mountain (6,825') is about 10 miles west from Lake Wenatchee, overlooking the US Highway 2, below in the valley. This peak is visible from the deck of our house. It is 46 miles distant from Pangborn.

I then started making my final glide calculations; I was 33 miles from Pangborn, and at 10,200'. Dialing in the various variables such as the 6 knot head wind (announced on Pangborn ASOS), and the 2 knot MC setting, my height should be enough for a 48 mile glide. This sounded unbelievable! I continued for another 15 miles north, along a curved course (subconsciously; must have wanted to cling on to that 33 mile radius!) and then I commenced my hands-off, feet-up glide. It was unbelievable. It seemed like I was just suspended in space, hovering, without a sound. Only an occasional glance at the GPS told me that my ground speed was around 60 mph. What a difference from driving in a car on a state highway!

Passing Burch Mountain, with its rocky outcropping on the left called the Eagle Rock. Recently I learned that the Chelan PUD will build an ugly high voltage power line across the face of Burch Mountain, starting in April of 2006.

Floating over Wenatchee, still quite high.

As usual, I ended up overshooting Pangborn. But this time I was able to predict quite accurately at what elevation I would arrive above it; so that experience was added to my tool library. I glided a little farther, spotted Laviniu's car - he was still there - then turned for a very wide pattern and landed.

Laviniu came to greet me, clad from his waist down in a towel held on his hips with a metal clip. His lunch did not agree with him. That's why he had to land, after arriving in Wenatchee ready to follow me up to Jumpoff.

Later in the week when corresponding with Jim (who flew the PW5), Jim told me that his meal did not agree with him either; he almost had to land at Waterville because of his physical condition. Somehow, however, he managed to overcome his predicament. Eventually, he flew a very respectable 178 km course (OLC).

Obviously, this "out in the blue" day was hard on not only one person's stomach.

I was quite pleased to find out later that I flew over 360 km on this "out in the blue" day.

What a flight!