DIALING IT DOWN
by Bill Finn
Thoughts about Becoming a Former Hang Glider Pilot
another half-hour, when things should be really cooking, and then give it a go. After m I starting to put myself in a all, getting high and, for some, going far, position where I’m going to get is the name of the game. But obviously, hurt? Do I still have the strength when you want to tow up to the good stuff, and stamina to tow up through mid-day you have to tow through all of that low thermals and core those little bullets that and mid-level thermal turbulence. And I still long for? Am I kidding myself into yesterday, it was all I could do to stay on thinking that, at 73 and having been flying the line. hang gliders for more than 27 years (yes, I The air on tow was turning me everydidn’t start to fly hang gliders until I was which-way-but-loose, and I was sure that 46 years old), my body will still respond to my weak link would break at any second. my commands and keep me flying safely? I’ve often thought that if we could see These thoughts have been with me for what the air was up to, we wouldn’t want a while now, and yesterday they were back to fly in it. That was certainly true for me in spades. It was turning out to be a pretty yesterday. When I released at about 1,800’ good day at Enjoy Field, just south of AGL, I was exhausted and a little spooked! Chicago. The first five or six pilots towed That tow just plain wore me out. I got off in a thermal with a small, solid up into the blue, cloudless sky without much success, but the sled rides were get- core, but keeping centered in it was lots of ting longer and some of the thermals were work. I got dumped out of it several times starting to get workable. I decided to wait on the way up to the top of the inversion
A
at 4,600’AGL. The drift was pretty strong, so after topping out, I flew back up-wind to look for more lift. Yes! There I was: sweating, exhausted and kind of worried about getting tossed around by the very active air I was flying through. What the hell was I doing—looking for more lift? I should have been coring the abundant sink and getting my butt back down on terra firma. For some strange reason, I found myself being a glutton for punishment. When I started flying at LMFP back in '83, I had the stamina of a 20-year-old. Once, I flew for 6 ½ hours all over that valley, having a ball. More recently, soaring locally in good, strong lift has been my goal. An hour or two, at the most, is usually my limit. Yesterday, though, that 30-minute flight absolutely wore me out. After landing, I could barely carry my glider the 100 yards back to the break-