In My Humble Opinion 

by Mike Dooley

Greetings, readers! Another deadline hung over me, like the proverbial Sword of Damocles, to make the Jan/Feb issue, but I missed it. Can't let another issue of KiteLife happen with no traction kite stuff in it!

It has been a busy few months since my last ramblings here, a high point being the "Y2K Buggy Blast" held at El Mirage Dry Lake in California over the New Years' weekend. "How was it?" you might ask. Does the phrase "Freezing your b*lls off!" come to mind? You bet.

As usual, I had to learn things the hard way, and arrived on Tuesday evening with a sleeping bag rated for about 40 degrees, which is usually an adequate wrap for a Southern Nevada camp-out. Heh! 19 degrees don't feel so good when you're stuck in a little truck tent for the entire duration of the night, and you know that the "low" for the night is still hours away. You reach up and note the cracking of the ice sheet that's formed on the inside of your tent, and that your just-filled water bottle already has ice cubes in it, that you didn't put there! At 6:00 a.m., I had no discernible external genitalia whatsoever… that's cold. Desert wuss meets reality.

NOTE TO ALL YOUSE RESIDENTS OF THE FROZEN NORTH: Shaddup! 

Wednesday, which proved windless, made for a great opportunity to jet into town (Victorville, California) with Corey Jensen, (perhaps a better verb would be "amble"…. Corey don't "jet" anywhere), for some much-needed shopping. My first purchase was a gigantic overstuffed Coleman sleeping bag, rated down to 10 degrees. That made the remainder of the trip's chilly nights quite comfy, and dang, the thing rolls up to a nice little package the size of a 3-bedroom condo.

Thursday was again blessed with only brief periods of wind, until late in the evening, when the breeze began to give promise of some great buggying on Friday. Sure enough, Friday dawned with ballistic winds, the kind of winds that El Mirage is noted for, and the buggying was fantastic! The turnout for the event was impressive, and included a complement of landsailors and buggy pilots from the coastal cities of California, from Northern Oregon and from Washington, as well as some visitors from Japan and Denmark. Small kites were the order of the day, and Elmer's offered the kind of multiple-terrain buggy experience that's hard to beat.

Picture the vast expanse of the dry lakebed, and then large peninsulas and coves and alluvial flood fans protruding into the lake's expanse, and you're able to sail back into these brushy and sandy enclaves, exploring the trails and "pucker bumps". The wind's so steady and powerful that your kite is like an auto engine, just apply a little power and you can climb a hill or crash through a brushpile with ease, and upon every horizon you catch the looping and diving of traction foils from the corner of your eye. The sun is warm, and you're bundled and face-protected from the blistering chill of the wind, and when the mood strikes, you turn for a long down-wind run past the camp, watching your speedometer climb and feeling the sheer power in the gusts and bumps that strike out at you, as you course the "rivers" of wind that spill across the lakebed. Suddenly you realize that the light has altered, transforming into the spectacular sunset extravaganza that only desert places seem to offer. Clouds partially obstruct the sun, and beams and shafts of light are scattered across the arid landscape, and you swing your buggy around, wrestle the kite to the ground, and settle back to watch the last slivers of sun glide below the mountains to the west. It's a little bit of heaven on earth, IMHO, and those of you who come to know it will treasure it, as I do, methinks.

Added to all of this were the fantastic party decorations and live band provided by JD and his friends from California, all set up in a "Pleasure Dome" constructed out of parachute and PVC, and lit with Xmas lights. JD's band of merrymakers constructed a "Burning Man" figure out of pallets, and we had the biggest bonfire on the lake, New Year's Eve, and since everyone was frozen by midnight, it was a welcome fire, indeed. We huddled, shoulder to shoulder, as close to the fire as our various natural and synthetic clothing would allow, occasionally turning, as Corey observed, like chickens on a spit.

Skyrockets and firecrackers were in good supply, as were Steve Bateman's famous exploding pop-bottles, and the champagne flowed at midnight. We huddled 'round the fire, watching the distant city lights as the New Year rolled over… we figgered if those lights all went out, we'd just plan on a little extension of the event. Of course, we all now know that nope, the end did not come, and nobody got raptured, and the world economy did not collapse. Ho, hum, we were Y2K Complacent, indeed. New Years' Day dawned with another dose of ballistic winds, and another absolutely awesome day of buggying. As the sun sank low over the western hills, I packed up and departed for Las Vegas. I wanted to reserve Sunday as a rest-up day, preparing for the return to the work-day world. Sunday morning I arose, cleaned and stashed all my camping gear, observed that the winds were a steady 18 mph with gusts to 28, so I threw the buggy back in the truck, and dashed down to Eldorado Dry Lake, a mere 25 minutes from my door. Another fantastic, ballistic, buggy day! Who needs rest? Buggies are semi-recumbent, after all.

For those of you who've followed my meanderings here in KiteLife, a little update on the progress of my "Learning to Buggy" experience: I've had many more hours in the buggy, especially over the last few months, and have developed a bit of a reputation with the local buggy pilots, for being the first one out at the first hint of a breeze, and the last one back in, at the end of the day. I knew I needed time on the kites, and time on the buggy, so I usually depart early for the dry lakes, and have often found myself winding up lines in the dark, and being the only vehicle left out on Ivanpah or Roach, after all had left in search of warmer accommodations or a full belly. I'm afraid I've got the "buggy" disease real bad… I'll skip meals to buggy. Hell, I'll skip a rope in ballet slippers and a pink tutu, if I can buggy! (And we all know that grown men in dresses are fashionable contributions to the buggy scene, now, don't we?) But I digress, and should move on to report what I've learned and experienced.

On the learning side, more control, learning to blend both dual-line and quad-line techniques into the flying pattern, and growing more accustomed to the characteristics of my kites. Learning to respect but not fear the power generated, especially by my SkyTiger, and to control that power through both flying technique and buggy orientation and motion. The importance of equalizing and maintaining the kite lines. More exposure to gusts led to opportunities to explore the methods of managing them, turning downwind when nearly overpowered, or moving the kite to the edge or top of the window, and even taking advantage of those fearsome gusts to put on thrilling bursts of speed. And finally, something I had been striving for: the ability to cruise the buggy and fly the kite by "feel" alone… no longer must I watch the kite every second, fearful of a loss of control, nor do I feel the seizing panic that used to accompany sudden high-wind gusts which take one from a sedate 12 mph to over 30, in a heartbeat. 

These things are all manageable, and as one develops the skills, the pastime of cruising around in the buggy, exploring the many coves and brush areas adjacent to the lake, or even careening over a motorcycle "whoop-de-doo" trail, being nearly unseated by the jumps, becomes an experience to be enjoyed and savored, instead of the white-knuckle dance with fear that it was when the skills weren't there. There is no substitute, it seems, for practice with the equipment, and a little fanatic devotion to the sport can take off 20 pounds, build up your shoulders, arms, and chest, improve your aching back, and glue a ridiculous grin on yer mug. Why, on one windless afternoon, we even resorted to "truck buggying". You attach one or two ski ropes to the trailer hitch of a pickup, and then buggy around the lake, adding awesome bursts of speed and power by turning away from the tow vehicle, and doing "crack the whip" runs, out of the turns. It's nice to know what 40 mph feels like, and to be sure that your speedo is calibrated correctly. The whole experience just keeps gettin' better, IMHO, and I feel very lucky to have bumped into the buggy scene and Corey Jensen, when I did.

On the experience side, here's my contribution: It's been my experience that whenever you gather a group of humans together in pursuit of a common goal, whether it be politics, religion, or just plain fun, there are always disagreements and controversies which arise between the personalities involved. The degree of hyperbole and hubbub seems directly proportional to the degree of "organization" that is attempted. The impending Spring Break Buggy Blast at Ivanpah in March, and the "pre-event" which has been traditionally held at El Mirage each year, are both prominent features on my buggy calendar. So it was with deep regret that I observed the scheduling conflict with the North American Parakart Racing Association's Challenge 2000 event at Ivanpah. Whether the schedule conflict represents any sort of political statement or hints of a behind-the-scenes "pissing contest" is irrelevant to me; I'm totally selfish about just wanting to be able to attend every dang buggy event that comes along in my area, not having to choose between overlapped gatherings. I hope that the folks who like rulebooks and racing can continue to play together with those of us who like cruising and exploring (and watching the guys who like rulebooks and racing), and that future events will be timed to allow all to attend. Just a thought, born of my disappointment at having to choose between two great kite buggy events.

On the flip side, the Bureau of Land Management recently extended an invitation to users of Ivanpah and the adjacent dry lakes in California and Nevada to form the "Friends of Ivanpah", a cooperative management effort involving major landowners, commercial property operators, universities, and recreational users of the dry lakes. This promises to allow all of us wind-powered sports enthusiasts to have much more influence and opportunity to preserve and protect these precious places to play, and to enjoy the support and endorsement of the responsible governmental bodies charged with overall management of the resources. Scott Dyer of WindPower Sports went to great lengths to bring this about, and deserves kudos from the entire landsailer and buggy community for his efforts. Thank you, Scott, and all the rest who helped bring this great idea to life.

In closing, I extend warmest greetings and best wishes to all of you in the New Year, and I anticipate that 2000 is going to be another banner year for kite flying, especially in the traction arena. Just think, when we're all old codgers, (older codgers?), we can sit around and jaw about how it was, back in 'aught-'aught! Who knows, maybe we'll be watching people stockpiling dry goods for Y10K… gonna need 5-digit dates by then, and is anybody paying attention? Sheesh!

"Nothing is foolproof, to a sufficiently talented fool!"