Sometimes the rotor goes all the way down to the ground. I was leading a regional at Sugarbush, VT years ago when I arrived back 10 minutes early on a turn area task. The ridge was working OK so, like a chump--er, champion--I continued another few miles to the next turn.

Unfortunately the turn was out in front of the ridge, which--at that point--was stepped, with a lower front ridge and a higher back ridge. Out I went into the valley upwind a few miles to tag the turn (my second big mistake). On way back, it was obvious I would not have enough altitude to safely get to the back ridge with a margin to escape the high valley between the two ridges if the sink I was in didn't abate. No matter, I rolled in over the front ridge and turned north.

More sink! And rough. I must not be close enough. I slid in tighter to the slope. It was really rough now but I was still going down. I could see the leaves being thrashed wildly on the slope. Wind. It MUST be going up! Nope.

By this point I was sinking below ridgetop height and getting pretty upset with the theory of ridge lift, the unfairness of life, and the prospect of going from 1st to last place in one flight. I flew around the corner where the front ridge turned into the main ridge hoping desperately that the different angle might produce different results. No way. Eventually (actually, very quickly) I picked a good field.

Nearby was Kai Gertsen, with his extraordinary skills. When we finally regrouped, we agreed we'd fallen victim to rotor from the upwind mountain. The ridge had been working as I flew south so I hadn't known or worried about it. But the minute I came off that higher back ridge, I was in sink and turbulence and it went literally into the trees on the lower front ridge. Lesson learned. Yes, we were two of the only non-finishers. And, no, it didn't help that I wasn't the only one.

Chip Bearden