Flotsam Me

 

“Ok, a little deeper, let’s see if I float”, I say.

“You should be getting there,” says Joe.

“I think it’ll work on my back,” I say. The cold water creeps up to my ears.

“How’s the water?” laughs Joe, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

“Friggin cold thank you very much” I say.

 

We had rented a vacation house that had a pool and hot tub in the back yard. Way back in my first life I loved being in or on the water. I used to enjoy canoeing, water skiing, fishing, scuba diving, boating and swimming etc. My friend David and I used to camp at a local lake and swim to a nearby island for exercise, about 500yds away. Since becoming a quadriplegic in 1986 I had always wondered if I would float or sink, and could I swim? The thought of resuming one of my favorite sports was enticing. A quadriplegic friend had let me know that she swims regularly, so it seemed like a great thing to try.

Terry puts our aluminum wheelchair ramp from the edge of the pool to the shallow end. She walks up and down it to test it, safety first! It looks like it should work great to get me in. Thoughts of swimming great distances, for long periods of time flood my mind. Imagine leisurely paddling around, effortlessly gliding around in the nice warm water, enjoying the hot sun. Heck I would even be safe knowing that I could always swim from a sinking boat, this is one of those life-skills that we all should have. It is going to be so much fun!

 

“This should work! We’ll use your manual chair and guide you in,” says Terry.

“One push and we’ll stand back, no need for a ramp, we’ll get you in there quick,” teases Joe.

“Ok, I want a life-jacket!” I say, remembering a failed kayak attempt. (a funny story in hindsight, a scary adventure at the time).

Earlier we had started the pool’s propane water-heater, totally unaware of just how much propane it takes to heat an outdoor pool. About $100 worth later, the pool is at 60 degrees F or so, yay.

“Good enough, let’s try!” I say, imagining $20 bills going up in smoke.

They put a lifejacket on me, snickering at the possibilities for the near future, do they know something? Terry and Joe slowly wheel me down into the water. My feet touch the water, I feel a bit of a tingling sensation up the back of my neck, hmmm. Tingling feelings are usually reserved for pain-indication, but not nice warm water, right? I go down farther, this’ll be awesome!

“How’s the water?” says Joe.

“Seems ok, let’s do it”, I reply.

“Too cold?” asks Terry.

“No,” bearing in mind I have no feeling below the chest.

The water now reaches my chest.

“Holy bleep!” I say, “This is cold!!” The water sucks my breath away. My body reacts, and any unessentials are retracted to warmer climes.  

There’s no turning back now! Ok pride and ego, gonna need you’re A-game to get me through this! Us quads are notoriously cold almost all the time, even without Arctic waters! I start floating and get rolled onto my back. The lifejacket does its job, face-up is much preferable to face-down when in water it seems. It feels kind of creepy at first, lying on my back with my head half under. The cold is numbing, and I see the smirks being exchanged, but I’m not complaining and releasing the dreaded “I-told-you-so’s”. After a few minutes the situation seemed stable, which is more than can be said for a few of the participants. Sometimes I think they just like to see me screw up.

Next to try swimming. I get my bearings. I sure don’t want to zoom across and hit the other side of the pool. I try to move my arms out to the side, slowly and cautiously. In the weightlessness of water it is hard to straighten my arms. I try to throw them out to the side over and over. It doesn’t appear to be having the desired effect. I try harder, now I’m whipping up a pretty good froth on the pool, and looking around I see that there’s been no progress. Something must be impeding my progress. I check to see if my helpers are holding me back, nope. More thrashing ensues, and I do manage to do a pretty fair wounded-fish imitation. I’m grateful that there are no great white sharks in the pool. I’m pretty sure that I’m moving now, and look over the side to see.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a dead bug floating by, pushed by a breeze, what a show-off. Well not to be out-swam by a dead bug, I pick up the pace. Evidently it must’ve been a water-bug as I was far out-classed, and it kept zooming on. I thrashed and flailed. Apparently producing equal amounts of forward and rearward thrust is counter-productive. I wouldn’t be surprised if rescuers from Greenpeace show up.

About 15 minutes of movement-free floating later, I’m seizing up from the cold. It’s time to call it quits.

“I’m done, getting cold” I say.

“Ok, let’s get you out,”

They drag me by the lifejacket over to the wheelchair, now this is moving! I’m pulled up the ramp, into the welcoming sun. My body starts to warm and un-seize. I’m disappointed by the results, but now know where I stand when it comes to swimming, so to speak (equally bad at both).

Life is all about learning. I learned that I can float with a lifejacket. I learned that I don’t swim like I used to. I learned that 60f water is way too cold for me!

I can now rest assured that if a I’m on a cruise ship that sinks 6 inches from shore, with the right wind I will be safe.

 

 

Lake Havasu Ultralight Fun!

 

Havasu Ultralight Fun!

 

Joe hits the throttle; the engine roars and the sound of rushing air envelops us. We quickly accelerate down the short-paved runway. Joe pushes forward on the controls, tilting the kite-shaped wing above us skyward. Soon our wheels lift off the ground and we smoothly climb as he pulls the lever to raise the landing gear.

 “Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“I’d like to go north up into the canyon, we went there with a pontoon boat and it was so beautiful. I’d like to see it from the air!” I say.

“Sounds good, as long as the wind is low it will be fine in the mountains!” Joe replies.

We head north from the airport, gaining altitude and soon there are mountains creeping by on both sides! You can see the Colorado River off to our left snaking through a rock canyon. The water is crystal clear to the bottom, amazing! Below us is rugged rock with very little soil or vegetation.

We are flying amongst the peaks in an open-cockpit weight-shift ultralight! I’m sitting in the rear seat, securely strapped in, while Joe flies from the front seat. We wear helmets equipped with microphones so that we are in constant communication.

"Can I try flying?" I ask.

“Sure can, grab the controls!” he says.

I reach out into the wind and grab (as good as a quad can) the bars.

“Ok, I have it, it’s hard to reach far enough forward, you guys tied me in well!” I say.

“You’re flying!” says Joe, letting go of the controls.

I gently shift our weight left, and we bank left. I shift our weight right and we turn right. This unit is very easy to fly, I think it would be a great aircraft for people with limited arm movement or strength. To climb you simply add power, to descend you reduce power. For me, controlling it comfortably would require sitting closer to the controls or having extensions to reach them easier. I soon get tired of stretching for the bar.

“I’m having to reach a bit far; my arms are tiring out. You have control.” I say.

“I have it,” says Joe taking over.

I resume my sight-seeing. It is amazing to see the world from above, the mountains and valleys looked beautiful from a boat but now to see them from the sky is surreal. There is nothing between us and the ground but a few thousand feet of air. At first it is a little unnerving to not be inside a cockpit, but soon the beauty of seeing the world from above takes over and it is no longer scary.

“Let’s go down over the river”, says Joe.

“Sounds good, it is so awesome to see it from up here!” I reply.

We come down low over the river in the valley, I can see the beach where we parked the boat to have lunch, and where others hiked in search of a geocache. It’s like zooming in with Google Earth!

“Now let’s go low over the lake!” Says Joe, I know he wants to show me some touch-and-go manoeuvres.

“Okay, sounds great to me!” I say.

Joe lowers the power, and you can feel us going down. We are on the California side of the Lake, lined up on the smooth-as-glass water. As we get down close, Joe adds a little power to reduce our descent. The floats gently kiss the lake, this is the first time I have ever experienced a touch-and-go on water! Joe adds power and we speed up again, and gently lift back into the air! What a blast! Next, he turns the camera rearward and gets some footage of the spray as we skim the water again.

We stay low over the lake, maybe 20 feet high or so, and hug the shoreline. We bank to the right and go into an inlet, then bank left and turn around, heading back to the lake I notice some power poles on the hilltops.

“I assume you know where all the power lines and obstacles are!” I say.

“Oh yes, been flying this area for years!” Joe replies. “There’s no lines on those poles.”

“Can we fly by Lizard’s Peak?” I say.

“You bet!”

A week earlier the rest of our group had made a several-hour hike to the top of a mountain. I stayed behind and took pictures of them, met people, and was entertained by radio-controlled aircraft doing aerobatics nearby. I wanted to see their trail and the peak.

We soon are approaching Lizard’s Peak. Looking down and right I can see a trail zig-zagging up the front of the mountain, and the picnic table at the top. There were about twenty hikers at the peak waving at us! We wave back, Joe cuts the power and circles back, and as we zoom by closer we wave once again. Then we follow the more gradual trail down the backside, leading us to the lake. Banking right we head towards the airport, flying over the London Bridge, yes you heard it right, the London Bridge! What a fantastic day!

1 Where are you flying? We are flying over and around Lake Havasu Arizona.

2 What kind of aircraft are you in? We are in a weight shift ultralight that is equipped with amphibious floats so that it can land on water or a runway.

3 How did you get into the seat of the ultra light? We have a portable Hoyer lift. It worked out perfect so that it could be pushed right up to where I could be dropped into the seat. The legs of the Hoyer fit under the floats.

4 Who’s airplane? Joe from Hanging Over Havasu owns it. He gives instruction and rides. You can take lessons, and he is very open to training people with disabilities. Joe is very conscientious, I felt totally safe with him. You can find him at https://www.hanginoverhavasu.com .