Cops and Thermals over Rock Springs
Posted on Monday, October 26th, 2009
“Any road named 14-mile road is going to be good for towing.”
— Chris Galli
A high cirrus placed the final obstacle in our path, preventing completion of the puzzle. Neither Matt Dadem nor I would escape the unwelcome grasp of the shade. As we climbed in our last thermal, after a five-hour flight, the alarmingly low sun angle inspired little confidence in finding the next rising column of air to propel us onward. Our last stand was on a desolate rim overlooking a thriving oil well subdivision before Rawlins, Wyo. Dumping ballast, we headed into a massive patch of cool air. I radioed Jon Hunt and Chris Galli: We were on final glide.
Three of us had set off five hours earlier on our first glide toward the scarred I-80 corridor, where miners continue to stridently burrow into the great Western landscape with insatiable thirst. The terrain is a checkerboard of slot canyons, coal mining operations and oil fields pumping America’s lifeblood to the surface. Magnificent 4,000-meter peaks of the Wind River Range were visible to the north, while clouds popped over the snow-capped Uintas, 128 km to the south.
In comparison, where we were headed had no relief. The desolate high plains offer a host of features to generate lift, yet less-than-ideal landing options. The wind was manageable, and transitions across the first part of the course line were deceptive. A half-point less in glide meant Hunt didn’t make it across one long push. The flying was soft; we never recorded a spike over 4 meters per second, which in the stark deserts of southern Wyoming is very light. The day never provided the 10 m/s climb rates we expected to catapult us down course. After 50 km the flying became textbook, and we dialed in a sensible rhythm.
We laughed at base and felt uneasy as we arrived low to the textured landscape after long glides. Team flying is a great experience, but something we struggle with as rugged, individualistic, free-flight pilots. But it works. We took turns leading out, finding cores and utilizing our rewarding thermal discoveries. Sharing memories, triumphs and nail-biting experiences across southern Wyoming was glorious.
Our final glide was entirely tranquil. I found a nice piece of field devoid of the torturous sagebrush so prevalent across the Cowboy State. Thirty seconds after landing, I spotted a person moving briskly from his vehicle about a kilometer away to my position. State Trooper Fisk approached my outreached hand and inquired:
“You didn’t come out of a burning plane, did ya?”
“No sir,” I replied. His anxiety instantly melted away, and, as Officer Daniels approached in his state-provided vehicle, Trooper Fisk and I were in the middle of a conversation about foot-launched aviation. Both men were incredulous when I told them I had left Rock Springs five hours earlier, only to arrive on public land 140 km away to meet on their little slice of Interstate 80 heaven.
We gathered around my grounded equipment, discussing topics ranging from glide rates and materials to how the Spot unit is an ideal piece for alerting friends to come help carry out a fresh elk kill, and how a condom catheter would be the “business” for a highway patrolman’s most critical daily challenge. We discussed various nationwide patrol techniques, including the Florida police now using paramotors. When they mentioned the misfortune of Florida cops who have to wear roller blades, Officer Fisk remarked:
“You might as well call me Officer Dangle if I have to wear those darn things to patrol,” sealing the conversation in a round of good-natured laughter from all parties involved.
We took pictures as I packed up. Officer Daniels offered me a ride in his patrol car. I’d turned off my radio to avoid any unwitting disclosures from my compatriots, so I gladly accepted. As I loaded my wing into the partitioned-prisoner section of the car, I couldn’t help but chuckle. While we drove back to the road, Officer Daniels proudly presented accoutrements of his patrol vehicle. He showed me all four sirens and we discussed which was most effective.
“You see, this siren here makes folks jump out of the seat. And this one is for when I’m in pursuit. Once I have them stopped, and I put the car in park, the cameras start rolling. One in the front, and one in the back. I also have a microphone recording everything once those cameras start rolling — to be used in court,” said the trooper.
“What about radar detectors?” I asked innocently.
“They don’t have a chance, not a chance,” he responded without hesitation.
Officer Fisk hurried back to his vehicle and raced ahead of us to where the rest of the team were waiting, beers in hand. As he pulled in across the front of their vehicle in a classic police blocking maneuver, he gazed sternly at the pilots scrambling to hide their frosty beverages. His cool, hard-mirrored glasses inspire fear of the law in upstanding citizens — let alone pilots recently returned back to earthly celebrations.
“We got your buddy,” he said, smiling knowingly at the quivering crew. Picture taking resumed with handshakes all around. As we pulled out, we heard Officer Fisk laughing as he reported to Officer Daniels, “You should have seen how scared they were when I rolled up on ‘em.”
Rock Springs to Nebraska was the objective for the day, and as Galli released us into the wild moonscape known as Pilot Butte, we felt secure in a late dinner arrival at our destination. Some part of me was relieved that the climbs were manageable and the winds light. World-record flying is a frightening proposition. We didn’t make it; we didn’t even come close; however, it was a great flight in unknown country and, by all accounts, a wildly successful first foray into Larry Tudor’s world-record site known as 14-mile road. I guess when all was said and done we finished our day in a similar fashion as we started. Excited, laughing, and in all honesty, a little bit scared.
An outstanding report. “Pumping America’s lifeblood to the surface” — what a powerful turn of phrase. ID the terrain, please?
The bottom photo is White Mountain just north of Rock Springs & I believe the top is somewhere between Rawlins and Walmsutter.
I know 14 miles road is a great road. however you should research aspen mt road. Its south of RS like 10 miles on highway 430. I have seen people start there and it is taller then white mtn. and drops right on to the I 80 corridor. There is a aviation station on top the mtn. The road is probably 9 miles long with very considerable drop from to to bottom but it steps down. It you know about it already cool if not let me know if you would like more info. It will place you right where you need to be to get to Nebraska I meet a couple of guys who did it about 3 years ago. It is probably to intense coming off there most the time.