It looks good. Way off beyond Strawberry reservoir the distance is obscured with pale blue-white virga hanging from darker blue and gray clouds, while all around our valley the sun shines through perfectly inviting cotton candy. Oh boy! I’m grinning ear to ear.

Now, before I go writing about the flight itself, I need to rewind a little and tell you that it was Lynn who got me interested in flying sailplanes. My very first flight was in the front seat of the Grob scratching around The Pines near the end of the 1997 flying season. Man, what a difference it was from previous hang-gliding experiences. I was hooked immediately and all through the 1998 season I was able to measure my progress as a student and then a solo pilot by again flying with Lynn.

Before the 1999 season began I had made a few goals for myself. Spin both the 2-33 and the 1-34 until spinning was not quite so harrowing, get checked out in the Grob, and log ten 3-hour flights. I even wrote them down and posted the list above my terminal in the office. What I didn’t write down, but have thought about since my first flight, was soaring over the top of Timpanogos. Now it was late August and I’d fulfilled most of those goals, but Timp had eluded me.

OK, back to the story: At around 4:00pm we release over The Pines and then bank-and-crank our way through 10,000’. Lynn comments on how far I’ve come since our spring flight down in Nephi aboard the Duo Discus. It’s looking good, and before long we’re ducking our heads at 13,500’. The lift is strong. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this high this fast. A nice cloud street runs East across the Timber Lakes area and there are cu’s building to the North over Little Cottonwood.

Now where? Maybe we could head out into the Uintas? Man, that would be something. I haven’t been more than a dozen miles away in that direction. We run under the nearly perfect street of lift over to the hills that separate Kamas valley from Heber maintaining 13,000’ the whole way. The lift is very consistent and we dawdle here trying to gauge the darkening skies over the Uintas. Park City and Snowbird are under nearly perfect Hoovers so we dive for the first spine.

I’ve played around this first ridge just North of Rt. 40 a half dozen times before, but I’ve never arrived at 12,000’. Most of the time I’m down just above the rim making every turn count. This is great! And I’m determined to get us above Snowbird. A really nice thermal near the top of that canyon boosts us to 14,000’. The cloud bases are rising and the oxygen begins flowing. Now almost due West I can see the rounded peak on which the tram should top out. Cool! We could fly directly there and still have enough altitude to escape to the valley.

At 5:00pm we over-fly the tram and circle our way up past 15,000’. Far below we try to pick out familiar landmarks. The entire Wasatch Range has opened up and the view is spectacular. Salt Lake City spreads out like a dusty brown hardpan. Dozens of hidden lakes sparkle below. The mountains look like a model train set and I’m feeling strangely detached, as if I’m peering out the window of my father’s Nash all those years ago watching some foreign landscape slip by.

What is real now are these clouds, and in some areas we’re able to soar up beside them so that it’s like navigating huge white-walled canyons.

Further West the cloud heights climb to 16,000’. From behind Lone Peak it’s clear we could visit Timp and more. The lift is smooth. Everywhere we fly we get at least zero sink and I can’t keep my giggles from bubbling over. I’ve achieved nearly every goal I set for myself this year, and now Lynn and I are floating 12,000’ feet above Orem realizing a dream I had the very first time I flew with him.

The trail to Timpanogos Peak must really be something, because it looks incredible even from thousands of feet above that thin line of a ridge. We spend a long while dancing around at 17,000’ directly above the hut that’s supposed be down there. Though Lynn tries to point it out, I’m not sure I ever really spot it.

We fly farther South and cross Provo Canyon thinking the last vestiges of a cloud there might be fun to toy with, but it’s getting late and the skies over this part of the world are changing. Heber Valley is now mostly under a big blue hole. Nowhere is there any threat of over-development. Our little puffy goal over BYU fades into nothing.

Shall we fly back the way we came, or maybe just head directly to the airport? We’re higher than I’ve ever been. There’s no real sink anywhere. It’s like boating around on a very calm slow river.

The length of Deer Creek Reservoir slips beneath us and ahead we can see a small cu developing almost directly over the airport. It’s totally alone and separate from anything. We play in the weak 7:00pm lift and work our way back to 17,000’, at which point I try my hand at some stalling turns and Lynn shows me his wing-over. Yee Ha!

Now even our little toy cloud is fading. The small set above Snowbird remains to taunt us and although we both know it’s pretty futile we head North again only to reach them well below the peaks where the lift has totally quit. Now the idea of landing begins to play in our heads and we fly out from the mountain to get a look at the windsock if possible.

There’s just a speck of wind coming out of Daniel’s Canyon. And there’s also just a speck of lift! We urge each other to “Zen out” and carefully work the tiny areas of zero-sink, cheering our perfect 360’s completed in rising air the whole way ‘round. The sun’s shadow creeps out from the lake and begins crossing Heber Valley.

Lynn’s landing is perfect. We roll out at the second crossing and while we’re pulling the glider to it’s tie-downs the remaining clouds above the Wasatch burst into the most incredible orange glow. The sky is on fire and the airport is totally deserted. What an incredible flight!

I count myself very lucky. This year’s soaring was fantastic, and it was made more exceptional by the guidance of a few friends. I want to thank Lynn, Walt, Parke, Dale and Dave especially for flying with me. And I want to give all of you folks a push to fly with other pilots. What better way to sharpen our skills?

I received the USA newsletter today and thought your article was very timely. I have had more experience flying at Nephi than any member and would like to add my two cents worth. You can publish this in the next newsletter or make a separate mailing if you wish.

For those in the club who might object to a little longer drive, should the club eventually end up at Nephi, let me tell you about soaring at that location.

First let me explain why it is better than either Heber or Morgan. Both of these airports are located in mountain valleys. As a general rule the airflow during the morning hours is from the valley into the lower valleys. At Morgan, the wind is extremely strong in the morning (notice the trees at the mouth of the canyon leaning down the canyon from persistent strong winds). Heber is a little different in that it is a much broader valley and what drainage wind there is, is much lighter. The wind that comes up the canyon in the afternoon usually occurs around 1-2 PM. That is the reason very few want to use the club equipment before Deer Creek shows a wind change, or at Morgan, the wind sock turns and shows an up-canyon breeze. It is my belief that this occurs when the surrounding hills finally start kicking thermals and the cooler air starts moving up from the canyon to replace the rising air.

The situation is different at Nephi. The airport is located in the middle of the valley, which extends from Utah Valley to Scipio. I have never experienced drainage winds at Nephi. The low hills immediately west of the airport called the West Hills run north and south. The sun begins to heat these hills at sunup. Sustainable lift starts as early as ten to eleven o’clock which allows a much longer day, especially if you are going to try a cross-country flight. The situation is ideal. The West Hills allows you to just dribble south with 8 to 9000 feet of altitude with unlimited landing fields along the way. As you move south the thermals get better and higher. By the time you get as far as Chicken Creek Reservoir (aptly named inasmuch as here you make your decision to either continue or head back home. (One of the California pilots, when asked where he was, said he was near Chicken Liver River – we started calling it by this name).

If you decide to go back you will find that by 2-3 o’clock there will be fantastic soaring around Mt. Nebo. There is a cirque we call “Elams Bowl” where, no matter the wind direction you can get some fantastic ridge lift, which breaks into powerful thermals.

Get your charts out and follow me: If you decide to keep going at Chicken Liver River you can head for Fool Creek Peak in the Canyon mountains (between Delta and the Sievier Bridge Reservoir). Lift there is usually outstanding. At the end of the range you cross over Scipio pass to the Pahvant range past Fillmore and Kanosh. From there you can continue on to the Tushar Mountains then to Beaver, Junction, Milford, Parowan or Cedar City. The Tushars have two major peaks between Beaver and Junction, Mt. Belnap and Mt. Delano both over 12,000 feet. If over-development occurs on this route you can move to the west or desert side and fly the edge of the over-development – usually on a cloud street.

Another great route is to move east from Nephi into the San Pitch mountains and run south with Mount Pleasant, Manti-Ephraim, and Richfield airports within easy reach.

What I am trying to point out, is that there are many easy cross country possibilities flying out of Nephi. Another advantage is that late in the day you don’t have to have a lot of altitude to get back into the valley as you do at Morgan and Heber.

The club moved to Nephi in August of 1969 and flew there till August of 1972. We used a Stinson L-5 owned by Frank Kelsey and took turns towing. We had the original ship that the club was formed around – N5050 KK (Klippety Klop) a home built glider made from an Aeronca fuselage (greatly modified) and a pair of Nelson Hummingbird wings. Flew great but looked odd. We also had a Schleicker Ka8. Neither with very good performance yet there were several Diamond Goal flights made.

I have spent most of my flying career at Heber and hope that we can continue to use that facility as long as possible. Dave has been a great asset and help to the club and I hope that he can continue for several more years.

Wayne at Morgan has always been extremely helpful and has done everything possible to keep us flying and assisting us whenever we have had equipment at the Morgan County airport.