Good pictures Steve. My flight report of 6/15 at Ecola State Park: Exuberance is a key word here. My, Bill's and Allan's first flight at Ecola State Park, a site I've wanted to fly since I started paragliding four years ago. Still, on launch I was a little disappointed, the site didn't seem as formidable as my childhood memories made it . Delightful soaring as described by Bill, crossing back and forth to the nearest points north and south with clouds forming between 500 and 750 feet the whole time and blowing over the trees. Steve crossed Indian Beach after a time, leaving from perhaps 750'. He made it to the north end of the beach and benched up after losing a couple hundred feet on the crossing. He thereupon got higher and flew further north although I couldn't see how far. I followed doing roughly the same crossing of Indian beach and successfully worked up from 400' to 850'. Soaring the cliffs was wonderful and lift came at expected places, until I was quite far north and over 900'. I could see Steve from time to time but often couldn't see him for extended periods. His radio and mine were difficult to reach for each of us and anyway I infrequently use mine in flight since I changed helmets and have not installed my PTT on my new helmet. Ultimately I pushed all the way to the last point beyond which I presume I could have seen Seaside had I looked around it. I became alarmed at my sink rate however as I turned south, realizing that there was no west component, it was only south. On speed bar to cross the bay to the next point to the south where I knew I could work back up, it became apparent I was not going to make the point and then as I turned towards the rocks began to realize I might not even make shore. I landed in the water about 20' short, my wing overshot me and initially landed mostly on the rocks. The breaking waves posed the great hazard of pulling me down and I struggled mightily to get my wing up on the rocks. With my dunking my radio and phone were of no use. I set about spreading stuff out to dry, knowing I had a tough climb out ahead. I heard and saw Steve after some minutes which gave great comfort knowing he would realize I was safe and mark my location. Steve later asked why I didn't rosette to indicate I was ok. Initially I couldn't move the wing because of the water and then I thought he could see me move around. I gave myself an hour to dry my wing and wring stuff out somewhat and set off to climb out. This was difficult, especially with soaked clothes, shoes and gear. Additionally the steepness and horrible rock made for a at times desperate scramble. Shortly before 6pm, 3 hours after my landing, two hours after I started scrambling I heard Bill, Allan and Steve yelling for me and 15 minutes later I met up with them and we hiked out. Thank you to each of them for mobilizing to come find me, ending their own flights. I admit I let Bill carry my wing when we met up.
My primary error was lack of caution in not stitching my way out a little at a time to be sure I could return to lift safely. Youthful exuberance let us say. Fixing my PTT might have allowed me to warn the others I was landing and relieved them of perhaps 15 minutes of uncertainty as to my whereabouts.
peter dinsdale