The Best Flying Day. Ever.

Sunday 14th June 2015

"You can use our dual Wills Wing Falcon glider. Its "spankers" and I'm based just down the road from you..."

For several years I had dreamed of taking my boys flying. Last year I completed my dual training specifically to make this dream come true and now Martin Colclough,joint HG Meethead, had put the final part of the jigsaw in place by offering me access to his Wills Wing Falcon dual glider. As National Head of Sports Recovery, Help for Heroes, Martin is involved with some amazing work. Any time you need a dual pilot, just let me know. 

With glider on the roof, me, Tom (14) and Jack (11) headed off to Westbury. During the 45 minute drive to the hill I had talked them through what the day would look like. Check the site, rig and check the glider, solo test flight, dual flight with Tom, dual flight with Jack. I didn't want to overload them with info but they are already becoming flying "savvy" having been subjected to my relentless flying stories. The forecast was a bit "iffy" in terms of cross country flying, but with a 10mph NNW wind it was looking likely that we could go dual flying. Much lighter and the hill would be completely overcrowded with PGs. As we approached the hill we could see two PGs climbing gently. 

"How are you feeling, guys?"

"Nervous" said Tom.

"Bricking it" said Jack.

"Look, we will only fly if its safe to do so. And even then, if you don't want to, you don't have to". 

"But I want to, I just have to overcome my fear". That's my boy. I was bursting with pride, even before we had the glider off the car.

There was a good turn out of hang gliders already rigged including Nev Almond, Till Obermeier, and Sam and Graham (having driven all the way up from Cornwall - mad Kernow boys). As me and the boys went to the front of the hill, chatting to everyone we passed, it was great for them to experience the friendliness and community feel of our sport, especially now as they were going to join the exclusive club of flying.

Err, thats not how it was described in the briefing

Feeling the breeze on our faces at launch, discussing flight paths along the ridge and landing options, and doing little practice runs with them, it suddenly dawned on me that today really was going to be the day I took my boys flying. I felt focussed but not overly stressed by the magnitude of what I was about to do. A heightened sense of awareness coupled with calmness was definitely kicking in. 

By midday we had the glider rigged. I made my way to the front through the melee of paragliders and quickly launched for a solo test flight. Predictable, mellow handling meant I was soon climbing above launch. Glider and conditions felt good, and the sky was not overly crowded. With a quick dash downwind to the landing area, I turned in to wind expecting to gently descend. But unusually for Westbury there was little breeze in the field and the floaty dual glider was covering the ground faster than I had expected. Maybe I should have opted to land on the wheels. Bleed off the speed, and "FLARE". A bit too early and a bit too hard. A few feet gained in height and then a "parachute" down on to the wheels. Thank heavens for big, pneumatic wheels. All systems normal. 

Right, back to the front, and get Tom harnessed up and briefed. A quick recap on how to run at take off, hold the pilot (shoulder and wrist), and what to expect at landing. Clip in. Hang check. This is getting serious. Sam on the nose. Left wing lifting. Back down. Try again. Up with the nose. Wing feeling balanced. 

"Ready Tom?"

"Yep".

"Don't forget to run. Ok, here we go. RELEASE!.....RUN, RUN, RUN, RUN......"

And we were flying. WE were flying. I don't know who was more blown away. I always knew it was going to be special, but I am sure even the best word-smith would have trouble describing this moment. We flew up and down the ridge, trying to find lift and gain enough height to make a top landing. As I turned in and fell out of broken lift Tom experienced surges and stalls, but always with me explaining what was happening. His grip on my wrist was tight, but he soon relaxed. 

Flying out from the hill to the landing field below

After twenty minutes it was time to land, so we flew out from the hill to make an unhurried approach to the bottom field. Tom and I got back in to "upright" mode and I pulled in plenty of speed as we turned in to wind (what little there was of it) on final approach on the up-slope. Wait. Wait. Wait..... FLARE! Better then last time but still not perfect with a bit of a nose in. 

"OK Tom?"

"Yep,  'll be ok". He had taken a bit of a bash but wasn't letting it get in the way of the moment.

"You've done it! You've flown!"

"That was so cool!" Good response.

A not so perfect looking sky

RIght, now for Jack. Hmm, not that easy as Jack and the car was at the top, and we were at the bottom. We hadn't heard from Jack on the radio that anyone was coming down so I jogged to the foot of the hill and scrambled up. No mean feat. Just as I reached the top, I looked back to see what I thought was my car pulling in to the field below. How nice, someone had driven my car down. A quick slide, scramble and roll down the hill and I was soon jogging back to the Tom. Ah, it was Till, in his blue VW, not my blue AUDI. I shouldn't have rushed back down. Oh well, I got a lift back up, fetched the car (and a now rather grumpy looking Jack who was being very patient) and hurried back to get the glider, Tom and Kernow Graham who had also bottom landed.

Back to the top. ice creams all round, and the promise of a quick re-rig and flight. With renewed enthusiasm Jack was soon harnessed up, briefed and clipped in.

"I'm having a brown trouser moment!"

"You OK to do this?"

"Oh yes". Respect, Jack. Respect.

As the PGs got sunk out and landed, I waited for a bit of breeze and any sign of lift. Soon one of the remaining PGs was climbing.

"Right Tom, let the nose come up. Thank you. Release. You ready Jack? RUN RUN RUN RUN..." Apparently my commands could be heard in the bottom field. With much less breeze, I wanted to ensure that Jack ran for his life. Which he did. 

Nervous at take off...

"YAY! We're flying!" And that was me!

"Oh my god, I can see why you fly. This is amazing" 

From fear to euphoria in a nano second. The picture says it all.

..but soon enjoying it!

We were always going to struggle for height. Less breeze, lees sunshine. I maximised our flight the best I could, scratching in as close as possible to the ridge, turning in little parcels of lumpy lift, but knowing that we were basically on an extended top to bottom. Suddenly, just as I was eyeing up the landing field, and as if to reward Jack for his patience, a Red Kite flew out from the hill just in front of us and started soaring.

"Do you see that bird Jack?"

"WOW!!!"

For a little while we flew very close, following it along the now lifty ridge, but soon we were making our approach to the field. This time I would get it right and "mush" it down on to the wheels, with my passenger safely tucked back and above me. 

Along the tree line... turn in to wind... pull on speed.  glide up the up-slope.   bleeding off speed... keep bleeding off speed... and ease the bar out.... PERFECT! 
A gentle touch down on the wheels and a VERY happy Jack.

A more gentle landing

"I guess I will be learning how to hang glide then". Result. 

Selfies all round, and a son grinning from ear to ear. 

With a lift up from Sam and Graham, Tom and I were soon driving back down in the car to finish packing the glider with Jack. I insisted on a group shot from our landing spot with the Wills Wing and White Horse in the background.  I am so proud of my boys.

The best flying day ever? Without a doubt. Nothing will ever top the day I took my boys flying for the first time. A memory to be cherished. And who knows, maybe I have just inspired the next generation of hang glider pilots. Happy days.

A New Site, An Ambitious Task.

Monday 8th June 2015

218km? You've got to be kidding me. I woke Monday morning to check forecasts and found Facebook blasted with the news that the British "declared goal" had been smashed the day before - a day that had always been looking like that it would deliver a good day, something that became all too apparent from the touch line of my youngest's football tournament. Hey ho, I would not have missed my lad firing a scorcher in to the top corner of the net. Moments like those are precious, and there will always be another flying day.

Kit prepped and charging from the night before

And Monday was teasing me in to thinking that perhaps, just perhaps I could have an early stab at making that British Record short lived. The only problem being that in a North Easterly airflow its difficult to find an appropriate launch site with the right amount of distance potential. Cue "Uffington White Horse", a hill south of Oxford where paragliders have been allowed to fly by the National Trust for some time, but only recently had permission been given for hang gliders. Up until last Monday it had never, to my knowledge, been flown by a hang glider.

Me, Malc and a great looking sky

Malcolm Beard, fellow Wills Wing pilot, and I agreed to meet up at the hill to "give it a go". A big risk on a good day but if it paid off we would encounter minimal airspace restrictions downwind, potentially all the way to Cornwall. Well, you have to aim high...
By 11am we were both rigged and ready to go, with a flight jointly declared of 230km. "Radio check". Silence. "Radio check". Silence. Fiddle with the PTT. "Radio check". Bugger, not again. Oh well, I would be able to hear Malcolm but not transmit, not too helpful when team flying.

Uffington is a small "technical" hill, rather like Frocester in Gloucestershire. With rotor inducing mounds out in front, and minimal, sloping landing fields at the bottom of the tree lined ridge, it's not for the inexperienced or faint hearted. Waiting patiently on launch just by the side of the White Horse we looked for signs of lift out front. A modeller was trying to locate the lift too, and feeding back any information he could. The kites and buzzard were not coming out to play, but the model was occasionally finding big areas of weak lift out from the hill. The sky was looking good, so there was only one thing for it....

A smooth take off. Good. Turn right over the tree lined ridge. Bubbling? No, just rough as old boots. Gain a bit. lose a bit. After ten minutes being thrown around just above the trees, it felt like a lift cycle was starting to come through. Slowly I worked the ridge, and saw Malcolm take off and glide in underneath. Soon we were both being sunk down on to the trees, carefully manoeuvring around each other to stay up. Lower and lower, I started sizing up the landing field. Really? I would rather stay up.

Uffington Iron Age "Castle" and White Horse

Malcolm started climbing again, so I flew in underneath and we both started climbing slowly, but drifting quite fast over the back. I banked in sharply in a strong surge to core the thermal, and unintentionally forced Malcolm out (something I found out later). I didnt fancy being sunk out on the hill again, so I committed low down to go over the back, while Malcolm pushed back to the ridge. As I glanced back at the hill, he seemed to be climbing again. Good. 

A low start to an XC

My climb didn't mature in to anything and I ended up drifting a few hundred feet over the ground. Extending my search pattern out didn't deliver anything better so I headed off downwind towards a farm and ploughed fields, aware of an abundance of horse racing facilities on the Gallops. Best not land in one of those. Luckily the two large fields were kicking off some bubbling air but as soon as I drifted with it, the lift petered out. Push up wind again. There it is. Bubbling. Drift with it. Lost it. Push up wind...  

After three attempts I realised I was not going to get anywhere so I headed SE towards a low ridge, hoping that it would be acting as a trigger. Which it was, but by the time I arrived there I probably only had two hundred feet to play with. I fought with some gnarly punch lift, desperately hanging on in there, maintaining the precious little height I had, but it was futile. Over the power lines in to the next big field next to a farm. Shit, crop. Aim for the tram lines. I flared hard just two feet away from them, the glider stopping perfectly, planting me down on my toes. 

I carried the glider along the tracks to the edge of the field where there was a flattened piece of crop. A good de-rig area. Minimal impact on the field. Having packed everything up I knocked on the farmers door to apologise for landing in his crop. He hadn't noticed my landing but was keen to see the damage he presumed I had caused. He had in fact misheard me and thought I had landed a sailplane in his field! After a quick explanation and showing him my packed up glider, he was absolutely fine. Its never worth forgetting that our sport is so dependant on the goodwill of these landowners. Thank you Alistair.

Strange looking cumulus

Malcolm too was down. At the bottom of the hill. Safe and sound. No dramas. He would drive over to pick me up. I started walking the 13km back toward the hill via the roads. It had only been 7km straight distance from take off, but as I marched along the country lanes, I was rewarded with some lovely and interesting views. Well, every cloud had a silver lining.

An unusual view of the M4 

Very "country"

Well, the British Record will just have to wait. And to fly a new site is always very rewarding. Ben The Pioneer Hang Glider Pilot. Yes, I like that.

BOS - Round 2 Yorkshire Dales. Day 5 Task 3

Wednesday 27th May 2015

The final day of Round 2, and again the weather was looking shabby. Low cloud base, not much sunshine. But the circus headed off to Whether Fell again. The wind was very much off to the SW so our local pilots Kevin Gay and Trevor Birbeck gave us the low down on which parts of the ridge would work even though the wind was hitting it at 45 degrees.
A 60km flight to "anywhere" was called with an early task finish time due to the approaching bad (worse) weather. I opted to go to the launch area where Gordon And Dave Matthews had rigged - it certainly seemed a smoother, safer spot than the "lipped" take off where most were rigged.  After kind assistance from Mark Woodhams I got the glider over. The wind felt good. I was ready to go. And off I went, first off the hill again. Brave or stupid. One of the two. You chose.
I struck it lucky. Gliding straight to the part of the hill that had been pointed out as working, I hit a steady 2 up climb and was soon dragging the whole BOS gaggle off the hill to join me. Quickly up at the low cloud base at 2800', the sky was filled with the hazy spectres of gliders in the mist. Some pilots were questioning whether we could task, but seeing that we had left the hill lower yesterday then I thought it was game on. Just stay out of cloud! Before long pilots were bumbling over the back, gliding towards thge windward facing rising ground the other side of the Hawes valley.

It took me some time to get going, having heard pilots getting low and landing out early. Gordon called on the radio that he had activated the task by flying 10km  - was he still flying? Eventually I went on a glide from 2400', watching Wayne Thompson ahead of me head earthwards which out a climb. Passing over the river, the club class pilots seemed to be landing in a field together. Without enough height to reach the rising ground I glided down track, hoping to make as much distance as possible. Paul Harvey and Darren Brown were down at about 7km and as I flew low over their heads I thought about joining them in their field. But on I went. Paul said he just saw me disappearing low behind the trees, downwind....

Nearly! Sheep spot landing competition

As I bumbled down the valley my landing options were decreasing. The field I had spotted had power lines, so I eeked out the glide to the only field available before a road and trees. With a quick turn up slope and a hard flare my lovely wing looked after me once more, stopping quickly and predictably, much to the bewilderment of the sheep in the field.  And that was it. A hefty 7.6kms. But points is points, and enough points mean prizes. One day!

My landing field with Wether Fell in the back ground

A great competition - well done Martin and Jenny and the BHGC. Thanks to the local organisers and to Rebekah for the fantastic retrieves. We only hadTthree tasks, but flying everyday. Its my best season so far, with some good scores going in, and I am currently lying fifth in the UK. Full results here. Roll on BOS 3!

BOS - Round 2 Yorkshire Dales. Day 4, Task 2

Tuesday 26th May 2015

Phippsy fixing things

Have you ever been woken by blood curdling screams? I'm surprised that the police werent called to the campsite after one of our pilots suffered a night terror...! 

The previous days landings had claimed a few victims, but thank fully with the help of Cloud 9 Hang Gliding, dealer assistance was on hand to get pilots in the air again. The support given to the club pilots as they start their competition career is brilliant. Well done Phippsy, Mark Woodhams and the BHGC!

So up to Whether Fell. Conditions were looking promising so a task flying to the East near Hull and the coast via one turn point was called. I was one of the first off again, and even though it was lifty at times, it was a struggle to get high enough to feel confident to go over the back. Several pilots opted to fly forward to Dodds Fell to climb there and then use Wether Fell as a top up.

For some it worked, with Justin, Luke and Paul Harvey being the first to set off but it became quickly apparent that they were struggling just 20kms in to the task. I had decided not to rush the day - skies and local conditions can change quickly, so I opted to sit it out for a while, flying the ridge waiting to see if things improved. 

But they didn't. Eventually I decided to flop over the back at 2500' in the best climb for some time, with Gordon and Darren a few hundred feet higher and slightly ahead. Dave Matthews was also in the wide spread gaggle. On a death glide to the valley behind I connected with a weak bit of lift that kept me up at 2000' while I drifted towards the shallow ridge behind where Gordon and Darren were climbing. I think Dave headed back to take off to find a better climb but was soon calling that he was landing. Radio communications can be a real bonus in these situations, as the three of us exchanged information on climb rates. They were obviously climbing faster so I tucked in a glided towards them. Yes. A stronger climb that was building. Called it. Darren and Gordon came in over the top. Phew. We were getting away.

Right, off to the next ridge, spreading out to find lift. Trying to stay with Gordon isnt easy when he is gliding. Very fast. Boom, up he goes. Get in underneath. Got it. Off on another glide. Boom up he goes again. But this time Darren and I slightly behind and don't connect with it. As i pushed back to the ridge I was being sunk out. Steep at the foot of the hill, but a very flat profile higher up, I had to try and find the lift band as well as the likely thermal trigger spot. Failed. Dareen "Its working back to your left. I'm climbing". Darting over low underneath, I connected and we worked the gnarly lift together to climb out, almost sharing the same parcel of lift!

Back up near to cloudbase. "Ok, shall we go? Lets fan out a bit". "Right with you" came Darren's reply. Got to love this team flying! And off we sped towards the dams and the edge of the moors. As I approached the reservoirs I had lost 2000' and needed to find lift to get over the moors. Looking over my shoulder to locate my partner in crime, I couldn't see Darren anywhere.

"Where are you?"

"I stopped to take a climb".

"Thought we were going together?"

"We were. I did call it..." Bugger. Must have missed that. Or did he whisper it... !

Where are you, Darren?

Gordon was on the radio, much further right of track. The "wind farm" en route was clearly visible but there was a problem of an uninviting looking sky dividing us. Gently I worked lift until I knew I could glide clear of the moors (always thinking of a retrieve) then bit the bullet and glided on to the left of track, not as high as I would have liked, but towards sunshine and a better sky. The only problem being the imminent airspace near Ripon, but being aware of it meant we could avoid it.

Moors in shade. Not good.

Getting across the moors checking flight path and airspace on the Kobo

Pushing on, I headed to likely clouds and sunny ground but didnt seem to be gaining much height. With no rising ground pushing the thermals up, I was checking out ploughed fields with trees on the downwind side of the field, hoping to catch a thermal there. Darren was now some 400' above me, a really advantageous position to be in as he could see my climbs and potentially join them when they had matured in to stronger cores. If only.

Teased by a few bubbles I created search patterns but never really connected again. By this time Ripon was looming. Not a problem in itself, in fact a bonus if it was kicking off warm air, but the airspace was right over the top of it. If we didnt get high now, then it would be game over. Frustratingly it just wasnt happening as the text books say. Ploughed field. Line of trees. Birds flying. Come on. Nope. Not happening.

"That's my old baracks" radio'ed Darren. Yep. There was no mistaking I was headed straight for Claro Army Barracks, working hard in broken lift very low down to try and stay up, hoping for a boomer to save the day. Trees were swaying, seagulls circling, the air was bubbling, but I was just too low and running out of options. The fields each side of the barracks had power lines, crops and trees so there was only one thing for it...

Sizing up the football field I wondered what my reception committee would be like. Putting on an unintentional rag doll show for the Sappers watching, I landed in a stiff lumpy breeze, It was no surprise that the security messages going around on camp was of a glider "crashing" at the barracks! It must have looked entertaining but in fact it was an "on point" landing, shame that the glider nearly ground looped as soon as I was down. With the help of my new, luckily unarmed, friends the glider was taken to the side of the pitch. 

Under guard. I am such a threat to National security.

Unsurprisingly I was put "under guard" by the army while I de-rigged the glider and arranged for Rebekah to have vehicular access to the barracks. Shamelessly name dropping Major Jenny Buck (our Meethead) might have gone some way to help smooth the way. I was even brought a nice cuppa tea. Top job fellas!

Darren did in fact get a climb above me. As we approached Ripon. I rest my case. His flight was DSQ'ed! Shame really, as he would have won the day otherwise. Scores here. Not a bad day for me coming 3rd as I slowly climb the ladder.....