For the next two days, we watched the weather get more and more intense. On wednesday night, a cold front came through while we were enjoying a party at the Biernacki house. Ken and Janet brought an incredible spread of delicious food and we watched the lightening show, slides and videos.
     Of course, we talked. Paradiscussions ranged from the best way to get out of a cu-nim if you're getting sucked up, to dropping from a balloon into flight, as David Prentice does. Dale showed slides of Nepal, David had the balloon drop footage, and Kevin showed his Alaska video.
     A gust front from the approaching storm developed from the west, and we watched - fascinated with its power.
     On thursday, the wind was still blowing, so I went over to Ken Hudonjorgensen's house to discuss our upcoming maneuvers clinics at Bear Lake. Todd came over with his keyboard, I played Janets guitar, and Dale went home and got his standup bass, and we got into some great grooves as the evening unfolded. Janet made us all a trout dinner (yum!), and we went back to more music until our fingers hurt!
      It was really great fun for each of us, since we had never played together before, and Dale's Real Book (jazz standards) gave us lots of material from Miles Davis, Antonio Carlos Jobim and more.
     Janet also played some guitar and we sang together, just savoring the circle of friends and the common ground that music and sound creates. We all agreed that we need to bring the instruments to Lake Powell (the deluxe six day clinic) and maybe even to Bear Lake as well.
     The first three days of the comp were great, but now we haven't flown for the next three except at the Point, and we are all hopeful for favorable winds on friday.
     Friday was very windy as well, so we went to see Endurance at Imax, a documentary about the Antarctic expedition in 1915 and then we played more music. Saturday, the winds aloft has light and variable up through 9K, but then jumps to 55 knots above that! A bit much for task at Snowbird, so we'll go to Inspo at 1:00.
 

 
Saturday at Inspiration Point

      The wind had been blowing real hard, as we assembled ourselves at Inspiration Point launch. The wind on the previous days had whipped the skies into a frothy and freezing smoothie, and we were not in any hurry to drop our bananas into the blender. Watching the clouds getting blown over the back of the ridge behind launch was entertaining, and no one was moving too quickly. But the sun was heating the ground nicely, and soon Todd said "It's time to go."
     I was not so sure, and waited and watched as some of the early pilots off the hill took some interesting hits as they began to climb. Slowly, slowly, they climbed, getting rocked and pushed, popped and dropped. I saw Todd's wing do a dance that I had not seen a wing (my own!) do since I was in Valle De Bravo,Mexico - kind of a cha-cha-cha, ooh-la-la. But he handled it well, and soon he was off on glide down the range with Len, Bill and a few others as the rest of us finally realized it was getting more and more flyable.
     By the time I launched, it was getting pretty late in the day, and I knew I was going to be limited by the hours left that the sun would shine on the hillsides. At least the slopes along the route faced the heating rays, and soon Ken and I were climbing together slowly behind launch to 11K until we could see over the back. The clouds that were left were leaning over hard, and so we took the altitude and put the fabric on glide before hitting the shear. The wind was at our backs, and soon we were around the corner approaching Spanish Fork.
     The climbs were getting weaker as the sun dropped further down in the west, and you had to hold onto every little scrap the landscape had to offer. I scratched down low until I threw the towel in and worked out the minor ridge to a landing area, only to find a nice bubble that took me back to 10K for the jump over the Fork. Ken was not so fortunate, and I watched him land in the warm afternoon light.
     After Spanish Fork, I looked along the front points for lift, but kept on glide in the bouyant afternoon air until I spotted a small knoll where a farmer had ridden his quad. He was standing on top of the small hill with his hands on his hips, watching me as I circled close overhead looking for warm, rising air. I was there so long that he finally waved and rode off back to the farm. Every ten feet was work, and I was not letting go of this trigger until I had all it was going to offer. Chris came in, and we finally climbed together, drifting deep into a dark canyon before going on glide once again.
     Looking back at Utah Lake and the angle of the sun, I realized that this was going to be the final glide for the day. I snapped another picture of the view north, and headed for Elk Ridge, knowing I was not going to clear this obstacle. The reports of Len, Ryan, Bill and Todd had come over the radio, and the early launches they took were a clear advantage, and Len had gone more than twice as far as I did.
     Landing lazily in the smooth afternoon air while some nearby horseback riders watched, I felt fortunate once again to enjoy such a unique sport. Chase was on its way, I cracked open a cold Red Bull and savored the moment. The flight had lasted so long that I had landed almost too late to report my landing coordinates in time to be scored!
     The Party at Lou's house was deluxe. A major bonfire was started to ward off the cold, and we showed Jeff's video on the wall of the house as we ate copious amounts of delicious food. The prizes were prepared for awarding, and Todd reigned once again as the master of the skies over Salt Lake City.