Last Time at Kealakekua

I arrived at launch last Saturday before 9am. The wind was reported to be a strong 35 N. Given that we were on the lee side of the island, it seemed unlikely the SSW launch would work. I decided to head out and try flying anyway. I found Scotty and Moku already on launch observing conditions. The flags were blowing directly up launch (SSW). They said it was rotor. Being a lowly P3 and knowing the wind forecast, I did not dispute their conclusions. I waited until other P4s, Sammy and Gene, arrived. Sammy and Gene are both retired. You wouldn't know it, but Gene is the oldest pilot in the area at 76. He launched first without showing much concern. Gene said they would report conditions once air borne, but he never got the chance. The air was rough, really rough. Collapses were happening every few seconds, but it wasn't unflyable. Sammy launched. Their gliders would shimmer and shudder in the air, but they were gaining altitude. I looked at Scotty. He looked at me. We both knew what was to happen.

Sammy and Gene were not in trouble, but they weren't having relaxing flights either. As part of my self  duty, I wanted to launch into that circus of air currents. I unpacked my wing and launched.

The air was the toughest stuff I have been in to date. I was getting knocked around hard. Later, Sammy would say it was P4 air. I fought to stay in a thermal only to take a major collapse, recover, find lift, and take a collapse again. I was cursing and laughing, terrified and exhilarated  Eventually, I began to lose altitude and began to think about landing. I made sure I kept the an LZ within an easy glide. I felt like my glider kept getting swatted by some invisible giant.

When the time came, I began the standard approach that involved killing as much altitude as possible before flying between two mango trees and then swinging some really aggressive S-turns to bring me down on that down hill slope. As usual, I found almost flyable lift right as I passed the two trees and had that half-second inspiration of "I can fly out of here" but soon came to my senses that it would be better to just land than to try to be a hero in marginal air. I fought through the thermic turbulence until I could engage my short final and stuck it perfectly. I turned around, quickly killed the glider, radioed in my safe landing (a requirement in Kealakekua) and reveled in the excitement I had just been through. I felt like a king.

This coming weekend will be my final weekend at Kealakekua. Next Friday, I sell my car. So all coming flights will be bittersweet as I say good bye to all I have just begun to meet.