30 mph and gusting? OMG...
That's how you recognize the pioneers.
They're the ones with the arrows in them that the buzzards are eating by the side of the road.
I was lucky. Real lucky.
I'd stopped in Bishop and asked Bill Dodson to come up and fly the spectacular wave with me.
He said, "Nah, I don't want to see you die."
The flip side was I couldn't come down.
I spiral dived that 10-meter Seagul clone into night to keep from being sucked up to where I couldn't breathe.
The stars came out.
I couldn't get below 10,000 feet!
I was exhausted.
Don Partridge told me later, condescendingly, with a wry smile, "All you had to do was fly out toward the Sierra and lose the lift."
I didn't know. I was a dummy. I thought wave lift was everywhere.
I landed under the stars at Don's Ranch in the headlights of my old Scout, thanks to Tim, my driver.