Second solo, even more fun than the first

I have heard it said that hang gliding just keeps getting funner and funner, though I can't imagine it can keep up this pace, or it will start looking like I am flying with the kingpost on the wrong side of the glider.

My second solo was with a radio, but Rob didn't need to use it, and I compensated for most of my errors of the first flight. Instead of launching very agressively, I was a little light and a bit too nose high, so I had to hop on the bar to get speed up and keep control after launch. I landed well enough, running out in about four steps after a fairly agressive approach for the last 100 feet. I hit my target, though it was the PG circle, not the HG circle. I didn't care, it was what I was looking at on base. Most of all, in the middle of the flight, I was up, alone, and it was quiet. I was relaxed and very happy.

In many movie genres, there's a crazy asian guy who provides comic relief. Well, there appears to be such a character at Crestline. In the tradition of Long Duck Dong in "Sixteen Candles" or the Toshiro Takashi in "Revenge of the Nerds," there is a Korean, a former HG instructor, who flies wings above his ability and crashes them with startling regularity. After I landed, word spread that he was on approach, calls went out for a video camera (none to be found), and work on the new grass came to a halt. He flew over the field quite high, then arced a long circle downwind, then followed the ridgeline that most only use for a short baseleg. As he turned on final, the assesment of someone more knowledgeable than I was that he could make it if he dove hard. He didn't. He went right over the landing circles, right over a wheelbarrow full of rocks they are clearing, right over a PG pilot folding up for the night, and toward the edge of the grass and a 50 foot drop to the practice landing field. Realizing his predicament about a minute after everyone else, he dove for the deck and stopped himself with his knees. If he had been a Hornet landing on a carrier, he not only would have overshot the 4 wire, he would have barely gotten his wheels down before having to go around. But, sans two Pratt and Whitneys, our hero had to make his landing hold with his knees and control bar.

As the light beer-fueled cheers rose, I had to turn away, so nobody would see me laugh. I had landed, albeit closer to my target, in a similar position on my flight the week before. Even though I had wheels and it was my first solo, it is sure to happen again. I dread the day when hollers of "WHACK!" and good-natured laughter welcome me back to Terra Firma.