Backing In at Big Southern Butte

Every year at this time I think about that hang gliding trip that I went on to Utah with Roger (Black Weasel), Dan (Dangerous Dan), Robbie (Mr. Natural) and his dog Kona (Frisbee Scumbag). My moniker was Jon Boy. That trip was full of brotherhood, adventure, chills and thrills. September spurs us to get in touch to reminisce and this year we ask ourselves, “Could it really have been 41 years ago today”? 

So many stories and new acquaintances came out of our time together and many of the pilots we met told us of amazing flights that were being had at Big Southern Butte in the Idaho desert. We had read stories about the place and knew that there had been some fatalities there but we always rationalized that pilots who died had done something stupid that we would avoid. Since Big Southern Butte wasn’t too far out of our way we decided to stop there and fly. 

Driving north beyond Pocatello we turned onto a secondary highway. It was dark and after a while we turned off onto a dirt road and followed it, dodging jack rabbits and potholes. I would guess that it took about an hour on that dirt before we came to Frenchman’s Cabin where we would crash for the night. All we could really see in the headlights was a ragged log cabin, and an even raggedier shelter for livestock, a couple of piles of junk and log fence. It had to be the place and we were beat so we grabbed our sleeping bags and started for the door. 

REI - When Hang Gliding Was Mainstream

An abridged version of this narrative first appeared in the January 2003 edition of the Oz Report. You probably didn't know that REI was once a Northwest powerhouse in hang gliding sales and instruction.

REI got into the hang gliding business by purchasing Chandelle Northwest from a gentleman named Ken Greenwald ~1974-1975. Ken had returned from a very profitable season of fishing in Alaska and had some money burning a hole in his pocket so he decided that selling hang gliders would be a fun way to get rich. I’ve never been completely clear on whether he came up with the idea himself or if he had help but in the early ‘70’s hang gliding was exploding. It was being touted as the inexpensive sport that any man or woman could safely engage in to experience the freedom of flight.

It sounded foolproof so Ken started the company and opened up an amazing shop in downtown Seattle. He leased a great showroom in the old Commission District near the ferry terminal. The business was located in the northeast corner of the Maritime Building and had plenty of large plate glass windows to display gliders.

Accidental Aviation

 

In 1980 I met up with some flying friends out at the Sod Farm next to St. Michele Winery to watch one of them fly his Kasperwing.  The “Kasper” was an ultralight aircraft built by another friend, Steve Grossruck, who I had flown hang gliders with for several years.  His gliders were always heavily modified or self-built and usually of his own design.  He took to motorized-gliders like a duck to water and was soon collaborating with other notables on the design that would incorporate the “Kasper Tip” and become the Kasperwing.  It was a beautiful creation and after a bit I was goaded into sitting in it.  

Gerry, the wing’s owner said: “Go ahead, Jon.  Fly the mother”.  

I had no interest in flying an ultralight and absolutely no intention of taking off in this or any other one but I acquiesced by agreeing to taxi around the huge field.  You know, just drive it around on the grass and make everyone happy.  So, after driving it around for 5 minutes or so I came back to the group and Gerry suggested that I go back out and just add a little speed.  “No big deal” he said.  “Just get the front wheel light and then back off on the throttle and it will settle right back down”.  

Flying in the Great Indoors

6/17/1979 

In June 1979 a bunch of us became the first people in the world to fly indoors.  We flew on three occasions.  The first was to see if anyone would die.  The next time we did it for press coverage and the third time to perform for the Annual Paper Airplane Contest.  Pilot and Instructor, Michael Pringle showed up for the third occasion and wrote an article for “Hang Gliding Magazine” which was published in the August 1979 edition.  Michael and the United States Hang Gliding Association have the copyright on the article.  The magazine is no longer available but the article is by buying the electronic copies of every magazine ever published by USGHA and its subsidiaries.  Mike was my buddy and if he were alive today, he would heartily endorse my reformatting, providing my own photos and publishing it on my blog.

My Lucky Shirt

I have been re-reading “REI: 50 Years of Climbing Together” which was written by Harvey Manning to celebrate REI’s 50^th anniversary and was distributed to employees in 1988.  Lots of cool stuff to revisit and anyone who thinks they know about REI really doesn’t unless they have read this book. 

Anyway, it features many pages from catalogs that exhibit the evolution of the co-op and one of those pages stood out.  It is circa 1977 and displays many products that I owned modeled by people I worked with.

From left to right and top to bottom we have Lynn Campbell, Jerry Desmone, Jim Rosa, John McNulty (the Marlboro Man), Lynn once again, a woman whose name escapes me but went to high school with my niece, Sue Anderson.  John Mueller, a guy who I don’t recall, Jenny who was Todd Frankawitz’s partner, Arleen Hiuga and Bill Egan. 

Article “F” modeled by John Mueller really caught my eye.  It’s a rugby shirt that was available in the store before it debuted in the catalog.  I bought a red and black striped version before ’77 and it was my favorite shirt.  I really liked the way it fit and how sporty I looked in it.  Most of all I liked the fact that good things happened to me when I wore it.  So many good things happened when I was wearing that shirt that I took to wearing it whenever I really wanted things to go my way.  Ultimately, I started depending on it when a desired outcome was a stretch and having things go wrong had serious consequences. 

A Legend in My Own Mind

 It was July 15, 1984.  I was flying in the Region 1 National Qualifying Competition in Chelan, WA.   The task for the day was a race to goal from Chelan Butte to Simms Corner, a 30-some mile milk-run.  

I had made goal but my time was so slow that the goal keepers had gone home.  When I radioed in from 7,500 feet and seven miles out announcing that I was on final glide to goal they responded from a westbound car (lots of wind noise and laughter drowning them out) "Whatever", they shouted.

What the photos do and don't show is who was on the leader board.  The photo shows twelve pilots listed and I’m not on the list for good reason.  What it doesn’t show is what place I was in.  You would have to read the tiny print on the pages below.  Probably something like 30^th place or something.  I don’t recall but it wasn’t pretty. 

Diving towards the finish line I was expecting a brass band because I had been in the air for hours and it was the first time I had ever made a goal in a competition.........Instead I got laughter.......and zero wind with a very high altitude density in the LZ.  Consequently, I pounded in pretty hard and bent the heck out of my downtubes for which I was awarded a lecture on how to land the Attack Duck by the Wills Wing President and a lesson on straightening downtubes (a skill I had already, unfortunately mastered).  I accepted both with appropriate humility.

I console myself thinking that I was light on the 180 Attack Duck and that it was hard to land.  Or maybe it was just me.

A legend in my own mind.

Evening on the North Side

 

The North Side

 

Every September I think back to a time when I took a hang gliding trip with my buddies to Utah.  It was 1980 when the “Ship of Fools Expeditionary Force” comprised of Jon Boy, Black Weasel, Mr. Natural, Dangerous Dan and Frisbee Scumbag road-tripped to Point of the Mountain south of Salt Lake City, UT.  The “Point” pokes out into the valley from the Wasatch Range and provides north and south-facing soarable aspects.  The South Side would get soarable in the morning while the North Side turned on late in the day.  We were camped at the South Side launch and would fly it in the morning, then drive to a local mountain site, fly, and return to the Point for the late “North Side” show.  A good time was had by all.  Come night time we were entertained by hanging out with other flyers, both local and international, scheming the next day’s antics and listening to music.  Sometimes we went where we couldn’t be heard by others, cranked up the tunes, broke out my blues harps and sang like nobody was watching.