| Flight details: | Watched the first gaggle go off in a gaggle, cursing them. Note to self: Dave, you've got to stop landing just as everyone buggers off...
Wind turned more west, and took off again, this time took a 2 up in company of a few others (where did they go?) and climbed slowly towards Brighton. R C-N decide to leave it just as it got good, and I was on my own, until Matt P and Nancy? joined me below.
Orf we jolly well went, and Matt P climbed out and went off to the SBF. I thought I'd stay inland, and headed off to Lewes, and got a climb there. After that, it was a case of flying NE to get inland, dropping to 2000, then climb back to the SBF over and over again. This continued until Hastings, where I was getting seriously low. Either that, or Hastings was climbing towards me. Anyway, I head for my birthplace (Hastings Hospital) and get a rough climb, smelling of burning plastic. Thank Dog for illicit plastic burners (one of our lot burning his paraglider in frustration?), The rough climb turned to a really smooth one, and accelerated as it did so. At 8-up on the averager decided that this was too good and straightened out, heading inland again. Still 8-9p. Oops! Alarming thoughts of busting the 5500ALT airspace ensued, stopped by eventual sink. And I mean sink. Ascend like a balloon, descend like a grand piano. I briefly get something off Winchelsea, but after that, it's off on a glide to the beach. I been here before. Damn beachsuck!
Edit: Forgot to thank Simon Isaac ('Rabbi') for the lift back. It was definitely the most terrifying part of the whole escapade :0) ). |
