| Flight details: | 10am at home, and Keviewevie is on the 'phone "are you at the top of the hill yet? I'm working in Heathfield, it's looking epic!". A chance of a retrieve, and it's epic, what am I doing here? At home, it's blue, blue, blue, not a puffy white in sight. Oh, right, that's why I'm here. Hurriedly get out, and drive off, with epic clouds in the far distance beckoning me.
It looked all over, and as I arrive at Caburn, I find Ian G packing up his glider. He then produces the quote of the day "It's all over".
It looked Ok to me, though, so up the hill to find the usual XC hounds ready for the off. Carlo and A.N. other has already buggered off, apparently, and Craig A tells me that there isn't much time left, pointing at white wispy things out front. By the time I'd got ready, seven more of them have already left me behind. Taking off, it was immediately obvious that it wasn't 'over' by a long chalk. I hit a good thermal within 2 seconds of launch, and got to 200 over before looking for a decent one that wasn't going over the back too fast and too low. Cursing the magnificent 7 who were off by now, I thought I'd blown it, and Ian was right. But no, below me, 4 or 5 gliders start turning in a decent circle, and I hop in over them and grab the core, and off we go. Suddenly the lure of the sea-side seems irresistible to most of my fellow pilots, and they head off in that direction ignoring the corker they're in. Odd fellows, it must the seagulls, the piers, and the cockles and winkles that does it for them. John Young does continue, though ,and he slowly climbs towards me, and we meet about 1600 above, where the lift dies in the usual Caburn fashion. John now goes off to investigate the swamp to the east. It's wet, John, and it doesn't work. He discovers its wetness, and its non-workingness, and rejoins me, but now 500 feet below. I, meanwhile, flew downwind a little towards a wispy cloud, and I get a decent thermal to stay up. John then decides that the attractions of |
