In the ancient times of the TTT, we lived when gliders flew like finely crafted stones, some stones lighter than others, some pilots with fewer stones in their heads than others. It was a time of dubious self-regulation and rogues, of comrades falling from the sky, treacherous launch sites, determination, dreams, and occasional death and too frequent near-death experiences. 1982 was also a time of great enthusiasm and forward motion in the TTT. The first Mayhem was held that year, we bought the Whitwell launch, embarked on better first responder training among us, marked trails down the bluff for rescue, tried to get a medivac service in the region and other projects.
Dick Stern and Don Guess, our illustrious elders and founders, owned Tennessee Truss Company and many a new pilot spent at least a few days of employment there, before getting fired over a day of fine flying instead of showing up for work. Due to the synergy of the Truss company, we were blessed to have ready access to ramp materials to try to tame the wildest launch sites. We used these convenient rectangular ramps at Whitwell, at our first Sequatchie NW launch by Powells Crossroads, and then on Henson's Gap when we finally settled there. The ramp at Henson's was the largest of our ramp undertakings thus far and we considered it the best available, affordable technology. It was a magnificent aircraft carrier type of design that unfortunately put us on the edge of peril. Wings exposed to various air flows while the nose was shadowed made for many a crash and near death experience. In late 1980, when Dennis Van Dam plunged over the edge on one such launch, taking nose man Chuck Toth over the edge as well, it was the beginning of the end of that rectangle of horror. Though both survived miraculously unscathed and some bushes and brush suffered to save them, it was a last straw for many.
In the winter of 1981 while on a break from a week of tree planting in South Carolina, we found ourselves on the beach at Edisto Island, pondering the ramp issue over beers. A horse shoe crab washed ashore about then and proceeded to provide us the inspiration for the cure. The crab shell was placed on a mini-bluff of sand there on the beach that day and the radial ramp was born. Dennis cut short his tour of misery in the tree planting world to return home to begin the research and design process. The crab shell disappeared years later.
At that time there was nobody living in the vicinity of the TTT site. Bryan Burnside had just started brokering lots, and the mountain was still a holdout of scoundrels, and malicious partiers amongst the kinder, gentler populace. The mountain had a long illustrious history of moonshine distillation, pot growers and the wildness that accompanies those trades. Outsiders were generally regarded with varying degrees of kindness, wariness, or downright disdain. The original ramp was burned by some of the more disrespectful humans around and we feared the damage that would occur when someone inevitably rolled a car off it for insurance.