10-12-19 | Mt. Washington Wave Camp | Putting Lipstick on a Pig

It’s that time of the year again! What time??? Wave Camp!

For ten days in mid-October, Gorham Airport becomes one of the most spectacular soaring sites in the world. Gorham is a little town right at the base of the Presidential Range. This set of majestic mountains is located in New Hampshire, not all that far from the border of Canada.

The Presidential Range is a serious set of mountains. Sure, the west coast guys may snicker. But these are not like our normal eastern foothills; the highest one, Mt. Washington towers up to 6,500ft. That still might not sound all that high, but consider that the valleys are down at 850ft above sea level. Given that the mountain sticks what looks like straight up out of the winding valleys, it makes for an impressive sight.

Where there are impressive mountains, there are even more impressive waves. And being that Mt. Washington is the second largest mountain in the east, the waves are often as advertised. I’ve been up to 24,500ft in a 1-26 here, good for a Diamond Climb. Of my seven flights at this site, every single one had wave lift. Last year, a fellow climbed up to 33,000ft for a state altitude record. The soaring conditions here are simply spectacular.

Aside from the high peak, Mt. Washington also has the unique characteristic of being shaped like a venturi. This has the effect of radically funneling in the normally brisk winds at the peak. Scientists have recorded winds of over 200 mph at the weather station on top of the mountain and it’s not hyperbole when the local meteorologists claim that this location occasions the “worst weather on Earth”.

Naturally, all that wind has to go somewhere on the lee of the mountain. And on the east side, the mountain is shaped like a bowl. As a result, the wind spills over and gets focused into a narrower area, creating a monster wave. It works very well with wind directions ranging from southwest to north, thanks to the bowl aligning perpendicularly to many different wind angles. And the wave often times is considerably stronger than one would otherwise expect given a weak wind.

This is perhaps the most important feature of this wave site for it allows the wave to work almost all the time. The air not moving vertically out here is the exception to the rule. And this is also a very important consideration for folks looking for Gold/Diamond climbs in a 1-26; we can’t take these ships up to altitudes with very strong winds aloft! If you have to go much faster than 50-60 mph indicated, the sink-rate becomes excessive and you stop climbing. Here, the wave will work with weaker winds, allowing for much higher climbs for lower performing gliders.

All of these characteristics make Mt. Washington a mecca for wave soaring. And it only lasts for a short time, so folks from the area make the pilgrimage for this special occasion.

The neighboring clubs (GBSC, Franconia and Post Mills) all contribute to hosting the wave camp and invite others to come and join the fun. When it gets really busy, there can be 40-50 gliders all on the airport! It’s a narrow little grass strip, but it handles the carnival of glass very nicely.

I’ve been up here three times before and would come up every year if I could. Columbus Day is no longer considered a holiday in many academic calendars and this has made it a lot harder for me to come; it’s a long drive from New York/Philadelphia for a short weekend.

Aero Club Albatross is participating in this year’s camp, with four pilots flying the club’s 1-26E. Several of the club members are mining for Diamonds and I figured it would be fun to contribute. Steve and I came out to Blairstown on Friday and got 508 on the trailer without much difficulties and headed on our way. It was an eight hour drive through some of the most wonderful country.

I started my day in Philadelphia, ended up driving up to Blue Mountain, through the Delaware Water Gap. Then with the trailer up along the ridge, to the Catskills and across the Hudson not too far from Albany. And then across to Massachusetts via the Berkshires. And then a nice long ride up I-91 into Vermont and then a cut across to New Hampshire.

The drive was absolutely spectacular. The trees, mountains, rivers and towns are in the most glorious period of autumn. The foliage is at peak with all sorts of bright yellows, oranges and reds interspersed with the coniferous dark greens, go as far as your eyes can see. The carpet of color rolls along the land, up over the hills and down into the deep valleys. It feels like a living impressionist painting. The lighting changed as the clouds thickened or thinned. I’ve never appreciated how beautiful the trees are when the lighting is muted; it actually seemed to bring out some of the contrasts even more. For hours and hours, I was totally immersed in the beauty around me.

Since the weather was not promising for flying on Saturday, Steve and I did not bother putting 508 together in the darkness and instead went out to dinner. Not so many folks arrived yet, but the core group of diehard glider pilots was there. Among the most seasoned regulars is Rick Roelke. He’s a large fellow and his persona is certainly larger than life. Catching up with him and hearing all his stories about hang-gliders, racing virtual sailboats, going to art school, and flying magnificent waves made for a wonderful evening.

As advertised, on Saturday we were stuck on the ground due to the low overcast and the lack of a towplane. You can’t blame the towpilots as it is not easy business scud-running through the valleys, snaking your way between the mountains. Steve and I contented ourselves by cleaning up 508 and enjoying the really beautiful landscape around us.

Steve is confused in his attire with an amalgamation of summer, autumn and winter gear.

We put in a lot of work into 508. Aside from assembling it and tying it down, we redid all the external seals, cleaned the canopy, lubricated most of the control surfaces, cleaned and waxed the whole ship, and more. The ship looks nicer, but man it was brutal to try to clean it up. To use a club member’s expression, the ship looked like a “science experiment” with all the different colors of mold growing on it. Hard scrubbing succeeded in getting it cleaned up, but it hardly looks that much better. I don’t think I’ve taken off as much dirt and grime off of a glider and yet have so little effect in the end.

At one point Steve asked me if I wanted to try a more powerful product than Meguire’s cleaner wax.

I responded, “paint stripper?”

508 is a tired ship, that’s for sure. And it does look nicer from 20 yards now, so we can feel a little better about flying it.

One of the more interesting mods we did for cold weather flying was sealing in the tow-hook. Normally the tow-hook has a big gaping hole in it, which in turn directs a lot of cold air on your feet. That is inconvenient or unpleasant on a late spring day, but it is brutal up at 20,000ft. To solve this, we took off the nose cone and put in a neoprene seal over the tow-hook flange. Secondly, we put in a little bit of foam in the slit in the neoprene, to fully seal it without interfering with the mechanism. And finally we used a slit rug to put an additional layer between the pilot’s feet and the pedals. This coupled with Steve’s first-class tape sealing job should make the glider considerably more habitable at high altitudes.

One of the nuisances reported in the ship was a consistent squeak in the rudder. Having lubricated the controls, the squeak still persisted. Interestingly the noise seemed to be coming in the aft part of the fuselage. When I opened up the inspection port and reached in, I found a wasp’s nest lodged on the rudder cable! My hand shot out of the glider lickety-split, but luckily there were no angry wasps chasing me! The big glob of mud must have weighed a pound or so and it dragged the cable down enough that it was binding along the metal inside the fuselage. Wasp nest removed, the squeaking went away.

508 is now ready to fly and we’re looking forward to giving it a go tomorrow!

View from the motel room.

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