I continue the November 8th flying expedition to Magdalena Rim, northwest of Las Cruces NM (USA).
I was just about to step into the shower when Robin pulled in.
Not that I was timing him, and only in the interest of clarity, Robin arrived at, plus or minus 00:00:01, 08:32:51 (GPS atomic clock calibration.)
I met Robin at my front door. He had a loaf of his sourdough bread for me that saved him from my teeth marks on his buttocks, as in “chewing his butt“ for being “late“. (He’s no dummy. He knows how to handle me.)
Off we went for the Rim; no-man’s-land, at the ragged fringe of cell phone coverage with rescue a mere half a day and one helicopter away. Rattling around in my small, mostly-empty first aid pouch, was the ever-important bullet to bite down on while waiting for the helicopter.
Ahhh…. the adventures of flying in the remote desert wilderness.
We parked the Toyota at the fence and, still lacking permission for motor vehicle access, we flipped the glider cart over the fence and tied on two gliders, two harness bags, and three flags.
Robin would be pulling the cart while I was supposed to be pushing it.
It’s a 10 to 12 minute, uphill climb to the rim for Robin. With me along, it takes about 22 to 24 minutes. Using me as a comparison, at age 64, I would rate this site 59 and under.
My first mistake was forgetting to take my knee guards out of my harness bag before securely fastening the bag to the cart. Before the first of my four mandatory rest stops, I was cursing myself for this mistake. Lost at this point amongst the cacti was my option to drop and drag with the hope that Robin wouldn’t notice.
Then the axle took a slight bend allowing the left tire to rub the wood framed cart. That had the effect of applying a brake on one side. Robin made the call to push on to the Rim and fix the cart at home. (That “fix” could be handled after my funeral, I was thinking.)
At the Rim, I was ecstatic to have survived Colonel Robin Hastings’ forced march. I couldn’t find any signal bars on my cell phone or I would have canceled my next cardiologist appointment, the treadmill, there, serving as a redundant stress test!!
It looked like a marginal wind for soaring, so I offered to let Robin (The Grim Reaper) launch first. At 11:31 he picked a good thermal to launch into and had a very good launch, beaming up to about 100 feet. After several passes along the Rim, he disappeared behind the hill to the southeast on the Rim.
After 10 minutes, I gave a call on the radio, but received no response. I took my GPS, vario and radio, in case I had to drag Robin to the doctor, walked down to the truck, and drove to the bottom. Robin had had a good landing, so we knocked down his glider and rushed back to the top.
I had snuck my GPS, vario and radio into Robin’s back pack and he carried it to the Rim, none the wiser.
It was still looking marginal to me and I waited until Robin convinced me that a sled ride to the bottom would be better than hauling my glider back to the Toyota.
I set up with Robin’s help, for which my exhaustion allowed me to be able to drag out the setup time to forty minutes. I picked a good cycle to launch into and beamed up to about 100 feet. Once the thermal ended I scratched along the Rim slowly sinking out.
I was only able to squeeze 12 minutes out of the face of the cliff.
(If this were a job I would have been complaining about the working conditions.)
The ribbons in the landing zone were revealing a severe wind gradient. Probably as a result of all the knee deep greasewood brush. I held on extra speed and when I hit ground effect, I had to flare immediately, dropping me straight into the brush for a no-step landing. This was really good since one step wouldn’t have been possible.
Two good things, we didn’t get back too late and the oil companies made a profit.
Sorry, everyone, you’ll get no pictures until I get a lighter camera.
Platform towing is still my favorite method of flying.
Robin just called and we are going to make Sam jealous at Dry Canyon tomorrow. He will pick me up at 08:00
