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Sunday, 9/5/04, Labor Day Weekend I'd never crossed the 33 before (solo), but when I hit 10k (personal record) over Chiefs and heard all the other pilots' reports as they cruised westward, I knew Sunday was to be the day. I made the first Bump on an easy glide, then worked my way up the spine, catching some fairly smooth thermals on the way. So far, so good. I had heard Tom T. reporting that there seemed to be a convergence over the back ridge line so I angled to to stay back there and hold the high ground as much as possible. Which worked fine until I passed behind White Ledge with about 6200, hit some super trashy air, then began to sink out over the ridge line midway between White Ledge and East Divide. I'd been crabbing in a south-west direction to keep in front of the ridge. Now, pointing due south to get in front of the ridge I found that I was barely penetrating at all. The south wind seemed to have intensified (or maybe it was just compressing in the saddle where I was), and all I could see in front of me was a vast sea of green canyons and ridges without a road or trail in sight. Tiger country. It looked like I would either come down on the ridge or get pinned back deep in that godforsaken wilderness, or maybe (worst of all) be pushed over the back of the ridge into the rotor just behind the ridge line. I peered over my shoulder and eyed the dirt road snaking through the base of Matilija Canyon, thought about Ron Meyer's long hike-out, saw the ridge getting closer ... and made the painful decision to turn tail and run for the canyon while I still has some altitude. I hoped I might even find some lift back there to get me back up high enough to safely cross in front of the ridge again. But as soon as I passed into the canyon (and still above ridge line) I got hit by the nastiest rotor I've ever been in. Thrashed and tossed mercilessly for about 30 seconds (more collapses in that time than I've had in my last four years of flying) until I finally passed out of the rotor. Relieved to be out of that hell with the wing still flying above me, but cursing at being out of the game so early as others reported crossing though the pass and heading for points west, I ruefully scouted out the best place to land on the dirt road to begin my long trek. But as I set up to land at the base of Old Man Mountain, I hooked a nice smooth thermal that I was able to work up the south face of Old Man and take to about 5200, higher than the ridge line. I could see the ocean again! At this point I even dared entertain visions of becoming the hero who clawed his way back out of the pit and flew on to SB and glory. But alas, it was not to be. The south wind was blowing about 15 mph and there was no penetrating back to the ridge. I might have been able to get some good altitude over Old Man, but that would have entailed drifting northward, deeper into No Man's Land, and still unable to penetrate back to the front range. My thermal petered out as I drifted westward with it through the canyon. I could see Noon Peak and the power line crossing pass by to my left. So close! And yet so far ... I picked the west (dry) bank of Jameson Lake to land on, which proved to be a good choice. The wind was howling from the south as I descended, parked. A sudden gust hit me 30 feet agl, rocked the wing back. I checked the surge, then dropped the last five feet onto my butt (into soft silt, nice) and was dragged back into a reverse somersault by the wind. I was glad I'd chosen that spot instead of trying to nail the road. For anyone who's unfortunate enough to have to land back in that canyon (and I still think it makes a better choice than some of the landing options out front), Jameson Lake does make a great LZ, with plenty of wide open, flat, soft, grassy room to land in. And hike west, not east. It's about an hour and 45 minutes of fairly easy tramping on the dirt road till you get to a gate which leads to Juncal Campground and the access road from East Camino Cielo, from where you should be able to hitch a ride out. I didn't know that was the only way out at the time, though, so for me there was another three hours of hiking in the 105 degree heat and hitching rides with deer hunters all the way out to something called "Mono Pump" which seemed to be halfway to Cuyama and then back again, before finally getting a boost all the way back up the mountain and to Montecito. In retrospect, I probably would have done better to stay out in front of the ridge in the strong south and work lift over the Taft Property (like Ron M did) with a bail-out option, until I had enough altitude to safely cross White Ledge to the Divides. Oh, well. I always enjoy exploring new areas of Los Padres National Forest. Many thanks to Bob Peloquin for driving so far to try and retrieve me! Sorry I couldn't reach you to report my actual location. |
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