Tonnage, echoes from the eighties and the hyper fireworker

The third of July wasn't looking good for flying. Clouds were moving in on the field and I wasn't sure I liked the looks of some of them. So, while d and I waited for the sky to either cooperate or fully assert its defiance, I unfurled the Reflex and started ground handling.

I used the Reflex for two reasons: one, it rarely gets used and two, it is more difficult to ground handle than any other wing I've owned which makes the ground handling practice more effective. When I bought the wing I thought that owning a faster, more stable wing would allow me to fly at times that I otherwise would be grounded. I have since learned that if conditions are too rowdy for my Altea then regardless of what wing I use it will not be enjoyable. So, why bother?

While I ran around the field, d watched the sky. After a while, d reported that the clouds didn't look so imposing and their movement aloft was in line with the wind direction on the ground. Since they were moving away from us, we decided to take the flight and since I already had the Reflex out, I figured that I would just go ahead and use it.

If you have ever flown a Reflex, they are fast and stable but they do require a lot of power to gain altitude. It was no problem to kite the wing, turn around and start my takeoff run, and run and run and run... My ground handling was paying off; I was able to keep the wing aloft and run forward without weaving or oscillation. What would have taken half a dozen steps and 3/4 throttle with my Altea took about 400 feet and full throttle with the Reflex.

Even after I was off the ground, it took forever to get to a decent cruising altitude. Must be hard for that little wing to lift all of my tonnage. I kept it at almost full throttle for most of the flight.

On the other hand, d could not keep up and even radioed, "Boy, that Reflex is bad!" Ok, maybe the comment was "That Reflex is fast" but with the static I thought I was hearing echoes from the eighties (when everything good was bad).

In spite of my weight, the wing and the confused communications, the flight was good. And it felt even better because when we first arrived at the field I assumed we were not going to make it up at all.




It was a 45 minute flight that felt much shorter.

On the fourth our roles were reversed: d was flying an unfamiliar wing and I was flying my favorite. Flying the US Flag Altea was a good choice for the fourth but in addition to choosing to fly it to show her patriotism, d's Polaris had exhibited a twisting motion and it needed to be checked (there's a pun in there if you look for it).

We arrived at the field around 8am and conditions were looking great. We set up and launched quickly. D normally flies a 25 sq. meter Polaris while I fly a 28 sq. meter Altea. Today, I was flying my usual Altea but d was also flying a 28 sq. meter Altea. As a result, I was climbing and flying a bit quicker.



The slight advantage in speed allowed me to move in closer and take better shots than I normally can.



Smooth conditions also allowed me to get in closer than normal.



In past years, we would attach the flag to our gliders and fly up and down the beaches. Most beachgoers thought we were part of the holiday celebrations and enthusiastically welcomed us by pointing, waving and photographing us to include as part of their holiday memories.

With the club in the state that it is in and the slow, steady closing of launch sites, we decided not to push our luck at the beach and just fly out at 7 Flags. The only thing missing was the people. With d decked out like Miss America under the flag wing, we went in search of someone to wave to.



As I had mentioned in earlier posts, there's not a whole lot of anything around 7 Flags except fields. We did manage to find some signs of civilization... but the residents had probably gone to the beach for the day.



After the morning flight it was off to breakfast where we were given the choice of dining inside or outside. Having no preference, we indicated first available. While we waited for our table we met a 7 year-old who amazed us with his knowledge of cars. Not only did he know some cars, he seemed to know all cars.

As we stood waiting, he asked d, who was wearing a Saturn t-shirt, which Saturn model she owned. After explaining that she currently owned a Subaru and that she had received the t-shirt when she purchased a Saturn years ago, our little friend seemed amazed that they actually gave away a t-shirt when you purchased the vehicle - almost as if getting the t-shirt were reason enough to buy the car!

I thought I would be able to stump him with my vehicle but the puzzled look on his face quickly cleared when he realized that the Element is the Honda that looks like a small bread truck.

We both listened with amazement as this kid went on about the Hummer/Cadillac connection, Corvettes (his favorite car), how to navigate the GM website and how one day he would work at GM because they are the best American car company. This kid was amazing and, luckily, a table (al fresco) had become available. As much as I was enjoying listening to this little whiz kid, I strictly limit the amount of time I spend around children. When I spend too much time - let's say, in excess of five minutes - around children, I invariably want to smack their parents. You have probably seen the bumper sticker, "Please, Spay or Neuter Your Pet"; My sticker reads, "Please, Spay or Neuter Yourself." I am a firm believer that everyone should be sterilized at birth and you should be required to pass a test before you are allowed to reproduce. Anyone failing the test three times has adequately demonstrated their complete lack of common sense and should be promptly executed.

Being a holiday, we spent the rest of the day doing holiday kinds of things like swimming and eating ribs. We even found time to get in a bike ride through the neighborhood and discovered a whole new world. I have lived in this neighborhood for two years and just found that we have several public lakes, a pet park, a hiking trail, a hockey rink, soccer fields, a volleyball court, a biking trail, a picnic area under a gazebo (with a large no trespassing sign attached), a fitness trail, swing sets (that still make me sea sick) and a small underground nuclear missile silo. Kinda cool for a residential neighborhood, huh?

All of this and there was no one using any of it. Ok, I exaggerate. In the 90 minutes that we rode we saw: two people on roller blades, one kid playing soccer by himself (he was winning) and one man sitting in the picnic area smoking a cigarette. And even though dozens of homes lined the trails that we rode on, no one was outside swimming or grilling or doing anything. Maybe everyone was inside, conserving their energy and waiting for the big fireworks display.

After the ride, we swam then chowed down ribs, beans, slaw, corn and some Ritter's frozen custard (French Silk and Coffee Crunch). The story with the Ritter's is one of realized potential. d and I had stopped at Ritter's earlier in the weekend for a snack. A woman came in with a coupon from the Entertainment Book. Since D has an entertainment book and he does not need/want/care for Ritter's, d snipped the coupon out of his book. To make the best use of the coupon which allowed for a buy-one-get-one-free offer up to $5, we decided to purchase one quart and get one free. Sometimes you have to spend money to save money.

You also need to know that Ritter's does a deal with a punched card. You get one of their cards and get it punched once for each visit. After 10 visits you get a discount or a free something. My card was sitting with 9 punches and needed only one more to get my free something. Rather than waste the opportunity, we decided that we should order something to eat in the store; this would get the last punch on the card. We would consume that purchase then redeem the buy-one-get-one-free coupon for two quarts and we could each take one home.

Being confirmed chocoholics (yes, we admit it), we chose two quarts of French Silk but when we got to the counter the clerk picked up one of the containers and said that it didn't feel right. I guess that after working there long enough you just get a feel for frozen custard. When he opened the container it was only 4/5 full and he suggested that we get another. Only problem was that there were no other French Silk left! What to do?

The second choice was Coffee Crunch which, with added hot fudge, would satisfy both the chocolate and the coffee urges. As I placed the replacement on the counter, I asked what they would be doing with the defective French Silk. He shrugged and said that we could have it if we wanted it. No brainer, that container is in my freezer and is now significantly less than 4/5ths full.

Sideline observation: I have used as many words to describe our one interaction at the ice cream place as I did to describe a long weekends worth of flying. Does this tell you anything about where my tonnage comes from?

Anyway, the trip to Ritters paid off in three ways: completed the tenth punch on the card, got the two-for-one coupon redeemed and got a free quart, too. All thrifty ventures should taste this good.

But all of this was just the lead in to the main event -- the fireworks!!!!

Although we were planning to watch the fireworks as a big, happy family, it just made more sense to watch the works from locations closer to our respective homes. As such, d & c went downtown while D and I packed up the cameras, water and straw mats and headed to Heritage Harbor. Getting there 40 minutes early ensured that we would have time to scout for a decent spot to park and a better spot to photograph the event.

The show was scheduled to start at 9pm and the first rocket was in the air right on time. The first was quickly followed by the second, and third, and then handfulls of fireworks were in the air exploding in dazzling multi-colored flower-like arrays. Faster and faster rockets kept coming and coming. It was like the grand finale right at the beginning of the show. Five full minutes of thunderously booming, brilliantly blazing fireworks then there was a pause.. that lasted too long... and continued to last... for a full five minutes before there was a spattering of applause and an exodus as people packed up and headed toward their cars.

Hey, wait a minute! All of these people packed all of this stuff and came all the way here for a five minute show! Don't get me wrong, the show had all of the right elements and it had plenty of fireworks. It just happened too fast. It was as if it had been choreographed by someone on speed or maybe the firestarter dropped the lighter into the box of fireworks and they all went up at once. Or maybe, like the world's fastest hot dog eater, the fireworker was attempting to beat some record and launch as many fireworks as possible within 5 minutes.

If he was going for the record, I think that he has a good chance of winning.

If you read my posts regularly, you will observe that I really do live a Hallmark kind of life where everyone is awakened each day to the sweet smell of wildflowers and a serenade of mockingbirds singing Amazing Grace.