| Flight details: | The wind was wrong for the Chabre itself, so off we went in two big buses and many small ones to Sederon -- where it was market day. To break the logjam, our coach driver got out, reversed a car for a motorist who couldn't manage it, then got back in to a round of applause.
The sight of 120 gliders covering the hillside was a bit daunting. But it's a friendly site, with plenty of bomb-out options -- and watching early free-flyers suggested that some of the bomb-out options were in fact climb-back-up-again options.
I took off late as usual, wanting to be sure of not going down and not being in too thick a throng. No proble, a climb appeared quickly, shared with only two or three gliders. By this time the leading pack was over the high ground a bit south of the racing line. Seeing a cloud further north, I set off for it. It worked fine, but then my glide back to the hills was sinky. Gradually I got lower until I found myself at the start of the three-kilometre section where we'd been warned that landing options were scant. My eyes confirmed this, and I turned back towards some nice landable fields, thinking: "Well, at least I've done a few km, at least I've got to base once."
But a disorganised patch of lift turned into a meagre climb, then a better climb, then an excellent climb. None of the very low gliders in the neighbourhood could reach it to join me, so I set off on my own to the first turnpoint. There was a climb there (it was on a peak, so no surprise), and the next one was well within range.
Jocky Sanderson had warned us not to get turnpoint fever -- to think first about finding lift, rather than about bagging the point. Foolishly ignoring this advice and the bunch of thermalling gliders west of the turnpoint, I headed straight for it -- and was unjustly rewarded as my vario started beeping the instant my GPS switched from 405 metres to next to 395 metres. Up I went, in a gathering bunch, until I had about an 8 to 1 glide to goal, and the climb a |
