| Flight details: | ...was a question that I asked myself several times today. On launch; I was tired and apprehensive after yesterday's rough conditions. The initial overcast promised a calmer day (and the initial 65k task was shortened to a 47), but it disappeared and launch got gusty -- several bushes were molested, and a helmet zoomed into the air, suspended by a radio lead from someone's upper cascade.
But off I went, resolved to push well forward of the windy ridge, and to land if that produced nothing. It produced an excellent climb, but by the time the race started I'd lost most of my height, and found myself pushing back lowish over the ridge -- which I'd planned not to do! A feisty and crowded climb, however, took me up and off I went to the next turnpoint. Big clouds were building over it -- Level 2 was called -- and I had three episodes of big ears to stay clear as I passed the antennae on Beaumont.
Too much height one minute, too little the next; after diverting east to stay clear of the clouds, I glided along the ridge towards the next turnpoint, but couldn't make it. Disorganised fragments of lift below the crest were exploited by others (including Simon Steel) better than by me. Eventually I gave up and set off towards a southerly slope facing the valley breeze, as well as the meteo wind. That did the trick; ridge lift turned into a thermal that took me up to 2200, and off again I set towards the turnpoint. But big sink left me struggling at ridge level in the rough stuff; my GPS said 712 metres from the point, but I just couldn't get into the 400m cylinder.
I saw pilots packing up below me, with a retrieve van waiting for me. I fought off ground suck by counting the figures, and working out that the van would be full. Back to the soarable slope, where I told myself to settle down, had a long drink and gnawed the wrapper off a muesli bar. A couple of chewy mints for pudding, and I decided that another kicking on the turnpoint ridge was a bad idea; I flew along |
