Flight

A bit delayed but better late than never, as my mum always says.

It was a typical busy day at the Dyke, frequent cycles and the normal honey pot effect that they have. But this is the nature of the task here, so those that hope to 'get away' have either to go on speculative punts (and thus be first in and on top) or be quick to get off and in it once identified by the former (and willing to brave the pursuing swarm). I am still one of the latter, being more brave than skilled but today I managed to make use of one of those magic bubbles and escape the hoards (although not without getting a telling off from Ian G on my return, fare cop)!

The day wasn't forecast to be brilliant, with fronts west and east squeezing inward. In fact we were lucky to have any sunshine at all as it was a very narrow strip of the country that wasn't in cloud or rain, knowing this shaped the flight that was to come. It took several attempts before I found a climb that felt good enough to stick with but the Mad Farmer and Tefal were above me and already heading back to the hill at my decision point. I didn't identify them at the time and remembering advice to ignore what others were doing I stuck in there and climbed to about 1500' over the golf course and beyond reach of the hill. I started to lose the meat of the climb and my mind briefly drifted into landing/retrieve mode. I made a conscious effort to snap out of it though, recalling others wise words about this point in a ‘getaway’. “Oh yes, thank you god”! I found it again (or maybe another) but either way I was going up, Trev (I think) was well ahead of me and going down over the A27 but I stopped worrying about anything else and concentrated on the climb.

Although I had to work at it and sometimes it was weak I just kept on circling and going up, a large sea-breeze convergence zone my target. Little did I know but a few people had already landed near to ASDA and Ghandi was working nearby watching my progress from below. He later praised me on my flight; a rare occurrence (in his words) so I felt well chuffed afterwards. Anyway, I eventually reached my target at about 3300'asl and had time to take stock of things. The sky to the east had darkened considerably since I set off; the forecast looked like it had come true so a long flight looked highly unlikely. Home to Lewes or a trip on the sea-breeze front along the coast seemed like sensible choices. I'd pretty much topped out by now taking extra care to stay north of the front and out of cloud so as the University was in sun and is usually a good thermal generator I decided to try for another home run.

Sink abounded! Bugger, all that hard work was being undone. I stuck with it as long as I dared to get in a good downwind position of the compound but I couldn't find anything at all so I turned tail to run back to momma. More sink, ugh! But the first of my interesting encounters with our feathered thermal marking friends, the gulls, saved my bacon, and provided me with a climb back up to the convergence and plan B, try and 'surf the front'.

I succeeded for the best part of an hour although I made little progress east. Eventually it showed me who was boss when a curtain cloud appeared suddenly off my starboard bow. "That's a nice lift marker. Let’s stay here and watch it". Er NO. It's coming TOWARDS you dickhead! I ran away as it chased me northward sinking as I went. Eventually I felt in a safe position and headed east again trying to find the lift line but I never really did and at some point I dropped through the front into the sea air, game over. The onshore wind was surprisingly strong in the shallow bowl at Coombe Vale and it took me a while to get down having first noticed the horses and cattle to avoid. I found myself going backwards once or twice but feet safely on the ground, smile safely on my face, I reflected on my flight as I identified my exact location from the OS map. Hmm, Dyke to Coombe. Up yer pipe big boys :o)

Retrieve mode was now engaged but my mobile (and thus camera) was broken so I made my way through the field and farmyard asking for directions out as I went. "There's a bus turning point just out on the road" I was told. Excellent, wait for a bus to Brighton (or maybe Newhaven) and then...shit are the Dyke buses running yet? 5 steps onto tarmac and... there’s only a bloody bus waiting for me! "Hi, is the Dyke bus running yet Mr Driver"? "Don't have a clue but this bus runs all the way up the Dyke road to almost the roundabout, hop aboard". “This is going well, nice helpful driver” I thought and off we toddled. Apparently though good luck is balanced out somewhere else in the world with bad, as the nice girl who got on the bus with a pass which (unbeknown to her) had expired a day or so earlier found out. "Pay up or get off" the nice driver told her! I looked out of the window and tried not to feel guilty (or laugh). The window seemed a good place to maintain my gaze as we reached the coast and the strength and direction of the breeze was evident on the sea surface. Cliffs not on then, whenever I get back.

With thoughts of flying, clouds and wind filling my mind it took a little while for me to notice 'Jonathon'. He was flying along the cliff line directly opposite the bus but not in the way all the other gulls were. They were content with gently soaring in the strong south-westerly but not he. I looked around to see if it was just my imagination but at least one other passenger had noticed his presence. "He's having fun" I said. He agreed and I wondered if he'd read the Richard Bach classic. For the best part of 1 1/2 miles he kept alongside the bus never looking directly at it but slowing when we did and speeding up when we did, no word of a lie. I don't know if this pissed off the driver but he wasn't hanging about on the stretch before the Marina and with wings semi-folded into the headwind, cutting swathes through all the other gulls, Jonathon eventually couldn't keep up and disappeared from view. Astonishing! The rest of the bus must have thought I'd cracked as I looked around beaming!

Although only a relatively short journey I still had time to chat to a widow who'd travelled the world with her army husband and had been involved in a plane crash! It's amazing who you meet on retrieves. My ride ran out though and with the Dyke roundabout in site I set off on the long walk back. Not before I'd attached my pre-prepared 'GLIDER PILOT NEEDING LIFT' (amusing wording deliberate) sign to my rucksack though. All of 30 secs passed and an offer came from a car in the queuing traffic. Not going my way but nearly an epic retrieve. Another 30secs passed and two lovely student girls offered me something rather better...a lift directly to the Dyke, what else! It turned out that one of them had a paragliding boyfriend and that she wanted to get into the sport too. Back on launch I very nearly managed to repay their kindness with a tandem flight arranged by Matt P but it didn't quite come off, although he did promise that he'd sort them out at a later date... with a flight, of course! Thanks Matt.

So all in all a good demonstration of a cross-country outing:
Keep focussed on what's happening and get in the lift quickly (but safely). If it feels good (and you're not low over the chasm behind) then go for it no matter what others are doing (you’ll easy get a lift back if you bomb out just behind). Stick with what you’ve got and go looking for it if you loose it (keeping one eye on the ground as you get lower). Respect cloud suck early but stay in lift if you can to extend your flight (in time and distance) by drift alone. Know what the forecast is so as to help you plan in flight. Respect the sea-breeze front and the breeze strength at ground level. Look for your walk out route on the way down but avoid livestock whatever. Revel in your achievement once safely down and packed away, it'll make the long walk home much easier. Don't worry about the long walk home, more often than not it isn't, especially along the coast. Finally, thank all the gods for providing the means to safely do what you have just done. Most (of the general public) will never experience anything quite as exhilarating.

The day didn't end there either as the sea-breeze never got to the Dyke today. The wind veered north and Fulking village provided some beautiful evening lift which we played in and which Ghandi took to almost cloudbase out front of launch. A rare and special Dyke day!