| Flight details: | Matt and Tefal turned up at 10 pm at Castlemorton Common, where I'd set up camp in a lovely spot. The morning required a trip to a surgery at Upton-on-Severn to stock up with drugs; while we waited I had the privilege of an exposition of Tefal's theory of the non-existence of facts. A fry-up was an even bigger delight, then up to the hill, where we saw paragliders already in the air as we parked - a relief, given the forecasts of NE wind and a green patch in the otherwise yellow RASP map of Britain.
As we reached launch a U-Turn and a Swing were climbing out, but the wind was way short of soarable. Matt took a punt, got low, looked like he'd found a climb, but finally bombed. I drove down to get him, fairly confident that I wouldn't miss much -- although as I picked him up from next to the cemetery, a local expert, Brian Hindle, was high way out front.
Back at launch Tefal was still patiently waiting in the sunshine. He'd predicted that the day would improve later. Trusting him implicitly, I launched seconds after him a bit before 2 pm, and shared his pleasant climb to near base. He seemed to know exactly when to push away from the circle to even better lift, and tried to shout an explanation about inversions. The message I got was: "Follow Tefal." (Yes, all right, they still call it pimping.)
The drift was from the north, down the ridge rather than over the back of it, so we eventually set off on a glide to the SW. A lowish save was followed by a climb to over 5400 feet -- my highest in Britain. But this time the speed seemed the same on every bit of the circle, so when Tefal set off back east, I followed. A low hill covered in brown fields and polytunnels was lifty, but I couldn't find another real climb. Back north of the M50 I prepared to land -- but then spent quite a while staying between 500 and 900 feet ASL, drifting this time in an easterly, all the time assessing my landing options. It was rough at times, and eventually I gave up, dropping into a |
