A couple weeks ago I got a phone call in the evening wondering if I knew who the victim of an accident at Camrose ridge was. I knew nothing about it and after a few texts was informed of the guys name and that he had died when he hit a rock pile at the ridge. I recall meeting him at the tow meet but did not get to know him. He was a yearling that was just getting started. Had a few high flights under his belt and was looking to soar. The entire circle of friends here was rocked. I'm sure his mentor took it hardest of our family. I feel bad that I didn't get to know him but on the other hand I think I was spared a hardship and heartache. From the obituary it sounded like he was a hell of a guy who lived and loved life.
Last week the wind gods smiles at me the same time as I had no other commitments. Now that I am all by myself in regards to flying partners, I didn't need to ask anyone if they wanted to go. I loaded up the truck and headed to the ridge. The wind looked slightly light but was to pick up as the afternoon wore on. Once I set up the wind was honkin. No windmeter but it took a half hour to walk the hundred feet to launch. Twice on the walk, if I could have unhooked and not been cartwheeling in the wind, I would have. But when the wind quit gusting enough to unhook, it was also good enough to walk ahead and launch. I waited for a lull and launched. Instantly gaining a hundred feet. It was fairly rough in the air, gusty and a few thermals, one of which I gained 1500' over the ridge. I flew for an hour before I was wore out fighting the wind. Landed 50' away from the truck flying the base tube till my feet touched the ground. By the time I was packed up the wind was back down to barely flyable. Lucky timing. It was close to a year since I flew the ridge last. I wasn't let down this time but I'm owed some good flight there.
Good looking wind on the ridge
Pack up time.