Ah yes, I know that thermal! Near the end of that dusty lane. From there its an easy run East to the hills where another reliable thermal is usually boiling off a small rocky outcropping. Getting there low, is a sweaty palms feeling, knowing that its time to either connect or plot an outlanding but its there and it'll save ya. Those hills are usually good for 12 -15K, at which point you have to decide whether to head North along the ridge line then jumping the valley to the hills beyond Virginia City or South to Mt. Siegal. From Virginia City environs, one can cross Wahoe valley to Mt Rose. A good climb on Rose sets up a fun but liftless glide down the imaginary state line bisecting Tahoe. Freel peak at Heavenly Valley is the recovery point.
If you opted South, on the pine nuts, then Mt Siegal is the goal. A good climb on Siegal sets you up for a jump to the Eastern ridges of the Sierra on the way to Mt. Patterson, then Potato peak from which the Whites are achievable. Coming home from their once, I crossed Topaz valley and was too low to reach the saddle. Having a strip of dirt in mind near the lake, I clawed and scratched at the Southwestern foot of Mt. Siegal late in the day. Near tree tops I finally felt that heady, heavy in the butt feeling of a thermal bubble rolling up the side of the peak. Too close-in to thermal, I started doing S-turns. About half an hour later I knew I was saved when I was able to complete a circle and circle I did. Onwards and upwards this particular thermal worked. Up towards the top of Siegal it broadened and gentled outwards reducing lifting forces but continued upwards, I passed through 10, 11, 12 and 13K. Then finally sensing that it was more than a thermal I leveled out and probed Northwest. Sure enough I'd contacted wave! It must have been the primary! A blue wave just off the spine of the Sierras. I "parked" in the wave facing towards Tahoe and gradually ascended to 18K, at which point, freezingly exaltant, I dove forward and probed the upwind source, losing 5K just reaching Freel peak, bumped around in massively thick ridge lift a mile over the surface, finally growing tired, rolled off the ridge and dove through the sink into the depths of darkening Carson valley towards the outstretched arms of Douglas County. On the ground in the dry warmth of dusk at the closed runway tiedowns it seemed more like a dream. When someone said, "Have a nice flight ?", all I could answer was "Yeah, some good thermals today..." |
