Winter Gliding In Canada ... Eh

Getting Towed To 2000ft

"There's lift over here, " I transmit.

"Sounds good, I'll be right there."

A quick glance to the right reveals the glider turning towards you. You're at 8,000 feet near the Livingston Range just North of Cowley Alberta. You can see the mountains, lakes, rivers, towns and roads far below. The two gliders circle inside the thermal. The pilots have their heads on 'swivel', being careful to keep each other in sight to prevent a midair collision.

"Ok, this thermal is dyin', let's carry on," says Dwayne from Grande Prairie.

"Sounds good," I reply as we both roll our gliders level, retract the flaps,  and head out to the Southeast.

"When was this?" you might ask.

 "Last evening." sez I.

"Where?" you reply, thinking that there's no gliding in The Great White North in February ... eh.

 "At home,"

"You been smokin' or drinkin'?"

 "Nope, been flyin" I reply.

"Bull Sh--," you say, not watching your language very well I might add.

Fishin' The Keys

Our Campsite, Backed Up To The Gulf of Mexico!

My bobber disappears below the clear blue waves, and stays under. "I wonder what bit this time?" I say.
　

I reel up the slack in my line as quick as I can (us quads take forever to do this, especially in a hurry) and when it is almost tight I give the rod a sharp tug upward. I feel the thud (uh-oh) as the line tightens on something REAL solid, and the hook is sunk deep into whatever bit it. Then I see a large splash in the water, and a cloud of silt as the fish takes off from left to right in about 3 feet of water. The line starts peeling off my reel at an incredible rate.
　

Rifle Shooting

Winter has hit early here in Alberta Canada, but November is the time of deer hunting. Luckily for me I have a buddy like David Loshny. If I ever lose the enthusiasm to hunt, I only need to observe the work he is willing to do to include me in the hunt ... thanks Dave!

The other day the phone rings, "Two p.m. work?"

"Yeppers!" I reply, knowing that this is the call to hunt.

It was cold and windy, and while us quads are cold-blooded, we installed the arctic-strength fur-lined (and of course mega-stylish ... NOT!)  "block-heater" and off we went.

"We should check our rifles" Dave said.

"Yep," I reply, "I think my rifle has been dropped, better check."

You might think that a 300 Winchester Magnum rifle is a little large for a quadriplegic, but this one behaves itself quite nicely. Pud at the Bashaw Sport Shop helped me choose a Browning Bar semi-automatic, which has reduced recoil over bolt action rifles. Then he installed a muzzle-brake, and my 300 mag now kicks like it's a 6mm!

We set up in a field to shoot at 100yds. Even though it was quite gusty and cold, we managed to get a few shots off. I pull the trigger by clenching on a clothspin-type device, and the gun is held by a rack that has been redesigned a few times over the last 20 years!

After 3 shots I was out by about 4 inches, confirming that being dropped had affected the accuracy! A few adjustments later and I was 2 inches high at 100yds, great for hunting!  Another Super Day with Dave!

Safety First ... Quadriplegic Kayaking

Ok, I'm no Felix Baumgartner, you know ... the guy that jumped from a balloon capsule over 125,000 feet up. We were watching (along with the appropriate oohs and aahs) the Red Bull stunt live the other day, when my friend casually strolls behind me and nonchalantly says, “With all the safeties built into that thing, you going kayaking is probably more dangerous.”

I had to laugh, as the memory of my ill-fated adventure came back, and acknowledge that he may be right. Funny how our brain will block out life's embarrassing moments, heck I'd forgotten (or at least kept quiet about) this incident until the video camera was unloaded months later.

It was last spring, we were all tired of the winter doldrums and thoughts of summertime fun were infiltrating the old puzzler. As if on cue an email shows up that grabbed my attention ... Disabled Kayaking.

My wife and I had discussed this topic before, and watched Youtube videos on the subject, and I had her convinced that it was safe enough (I mean, how dangerous could it be?).

In replying to the email I asked all the important questions:

“Are you set up for this? Have you handled people with disabilities before?”

“Yep” came the answer, investigation over.

“Sign me up”

Priorities Rearranged

     Well, the blog has ground to a temporary halt this summer. Summer is usually the time that we get out and do things, and try to find stuff that is worthy of writing about. Unfortunately, lately that quest became seemingly very unimportant in the scheme of life. When something like this happens in your life, it really throws your perception of what really is a biggee, and what isn't.

     My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in the spring. It seemed like bad news after bad news followed. I'll never forget the look on her face when she received the call that there was nothing that the doctors could do and that treatments would be ended. It felt like all of the air was sucked out of the room. Mom's spirit was totally deflated after the call, and she stared off into space. She had recently been having the time of her life, playing music and travelling with Lloyd, and they had so many future fun adventures planned. It all seemed overwhelmingly unfair. Fortunately we live close by and were able to spend lots of time with her those last months. Mom grew weaker and weaker, and near the end of July, with Lloyd faithfully at her side, her battle was over. Words will never adequately describe the hole that is left in our lives. We were left totally numb. It felt like the months after breaking my neck, a low point is reached beyond which more bad news means nothing, you've reached your limit. Needless to say, things that used to be a big deal no longer are. All of the normal fun things seem unimportant, and therefore unappealing. Hence I have very little cool and fun stuff to write about. We have done very little camping, no flying since June, not even any fishing yet. I know from past experience that this will pass, and my friends and family have been so great at helping us to get back to (the new) normal. Mom will be sorely missed, but we must remember that there was a lot more to her life than the last few months of sickness. She had many years of health and happiness, a lot of exciting adventures, and was loved by so many people. We must say goodbye for now, but we know that it is only for now.

Goodbye Mom.

     Mom's passing reminded me of a story I wrote after my father passed away six years ago, I hope he built his cabin in paradise.

Global News: Still Soaring

We had the coolest experience this week. Last Thursday I received a call from Su-Ling Goh of Global News in Edmonton, explaining that the people in the office had been watching my YouTube videos, and could she come down and interview me on Monday morning!

Great Soaring Day!

May 26, 2012 was a great day for soaring!

We arrived at the field at about lunchtime and I got my name on the list quickly, and proceeded to go shoot the crap with anybody that would. It is a lot of fun hanging around an airport, and anybody that is infected with the flying bug loves to BS with others that have the same affliction.

The sun was out, the breeze was not too strong, and the puffy clouds starting to build. A perfect day was brewing!

About 2:30 in the afternoon it was my turn to go, there were several volunteers including my wife to help me get into the glider, and within minutes they had my butt in and organized. We took off shortly thereafter, Bob Hagen in the back and me in the front. The turbulence was quite bad on tow so there were a few times that Bob saved the day as my arm strength was not quite up to the task of levelling the glider after some of the bumps. At 5200 feet we released from the tow.

“Which way should we go Bob?” I asked.

“You're doing the flying, pick a cloud,” came the reply.