Note green on the topo map which indicates pine forest.
Note also the contour lines and the slope.
Hmm... There is a certain type of soaring story of "interesting" landouts and the equally "interesting" sequence of events and the decision making that led to it. These are the stories that may start like "Many years ago I scared myself...". On occasion you find these stories in a written form, but most of the time these stories are told over a beer. Now then, Elliot has been quite persistent in using various threats to get my story for the newsletter. In breaking with the time-honored tradition to properly age the story before telling it, here it is.
September 4, 2002. I was supposed to be traveling to the East Coast, but the trip got cancelled. It looked like a good day, probably one of the few remaining 500km days in the season. Whereas I really wanted to be going by 11am, I launched late in SS, and I was on the task around 12pm. The first turnpoint was Four Corners, 60nm NNW from Boulder. In addition to the launch delay, it took me almost an hour more than what I planned to get to the turnpoint.
The next turnpoint was Baily (90nm SSE). From Four Corners to 10nm from Baily it was fast cruising following cloud streets. Cloud bases were at 18Kft. I stopped only twice in strong thermals, and my XC speed for the segment was 75mph. Indeed, it was a good day.
By the time I got close to Baily, there was a lot of rain and virga over it. The cloud bases to the south of where I was were much lower than to the north, at approximately 14Kft. I flew in the clear around the rain for half an hour, waiting for it to clear. While waiting, I had a good look at the Mayer, Flying J, and Marshdale fields. Flying J and Meyer (next to hwy 285) looked ok.
I was keen to get going on the task. It was getting close to 4pm, and I still had approx 140nm on the task, to Crystal Lakes (87nm N) and than back to Boulder (50nm). Eventually, a gap opened up between the clouds. It appeared the general trend was that clouds were finally starting to dissipate. I used that opportunity to tiptoe to Baily at 13Kft as the cloudbase would allow me without losing any altitude. I turned back and started heading towards where I came from. Now the clouds appeared to be closing, but everything still looked reasonably good, the air was still buoyant, and I was heading into the clear, it was not very far.
All of the sudden, I found myself in a lot of rain sinking at 10kts. With the vario stuck to the bottom, I pushed the nose down to 90kts in order to get out of the sink as quickly as possible. But it was not happening. As my ears were popping from rapid altitude loss, I was heading towards two fields that looked landable and were easily reachable even at the steep glide slope. With every passing second of persistent sink it was becoming less and less likely that I could make Flying J. For a good 3 minutes which felt like eternity, I watched the ground approach at an angle steeper than with full spoilers out. Turning back towards Baily was not an option, as I would probably have found myself in just more rain. Hence, the fields that I was heading for appeared to be the safest option. Eventually I got out of the rain. I got into zero sink and started circling to dry out the wings.
From more than 12Kft, in no time I was down to 9Kft. It came down to either finding some lift or landing in one of the two fields. I went towards the field that looked like the best field around. It was quite uneven, and I could easily see the slope (read too steep). I determined two stretches of terrain that appeared reasonably smooth with no apparent rocks or thumps, and I knew I could land safely there. I did not see any power lines nor fences across the field, but there were horses in the field. And they were too close to my preferred landing spot.
I worked a ridge thermal for a while, but I knew I was unlikely to get away, since sun was nowhere to be seen. I just hoped to get another 500ft so I could get to Flying J. I let the wind drift me to the E, closer to Flying J, and that way I could check out the other field without loosing altitude. The other field had power lines, was smaller, and steeper. I was not gaining any altitude either, so Flying J did not look like a good idea. I flew back to the first field, worked the ridge for a little while longer, but I was losing altitude and I needed to land.
The horses were still too near my preferred landing spot. I planed the pattern through the gulch so that I touchdown and roll on what appeared the (second) best stretch of the terrain. I went through the prelanding checklist and landed as planed. It was a very short ground roll. At the top of the hill I was almost stopped, but since the terrain was starting to roll down and there was a thump in the path of the left wing, I put the wing down to intentionally ground-loop it. I got out of the cockpit, checked for damage, and called Elliot to retrieve me.
This was a landout type where everyone shows up. The ambulance was there within 5min, firefighters, the sheriff, and many other spectators. Luckily, the field had a gate to keep the horses in, actually there were four (4!) gates one behind the other, so people could not easily get in. Firefighters came to talk to me in groups of three. The sheriff took the info. I had to explain many times over how "I ran out of air".
Then, I was left alone for a while. I was concerned about the horses as they became more and more inquisitive and were getting closer and closer, so I stayed with the glider all the time. Eventually, the owners and caretaker showed up. I had a very nice conversation with the owner, and learned a lot about all kinds of things. He was an aircraft mechanic and he worked on all kinds of aircraft during and after WWII, but he never saw a glider up-close.
When Elliot showed up the Sheriff helped us derig, and after navigating the trailer through the four gates we were promptly on our way back to Boulder. During the next few days Elliot and I fixed the rush on the bottom of the wings, as well as all kinds of old wing scrapes, put on a new tailwheel, and Don Weiss helped with the sanding.
Lessons learned. I was at 13Kft over Baily. (Boulder is at the best glide from Bailey at 13Kft.) From Baily to Flying J it is 9.5nm; in other words, I had 4,000ft to glide those 9. 5nm and be at the pattern altitude at Flying J. But that was not enough. The Sink Monster does exist and wakes up occasionally! When flying in the mountains, maintain plenty of margin on the glide slope as appropriate for the weather conditions. However, the bottom line is that quite simply I pushed it. I was too eager to complete the task, that influenced my decision-making, and the sink monster would not let that come to pass.
PS. The landout spot, Gooseberry Gulch, is now in my turnpoint database appropriately named "SS Gulch".
Note green on the topo map which indicates pine forest.
Note also the contour lines and the slope.
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