COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
Tewkesbury the Severn valley was badly flooded - better to turn west
of track.
Perhaps the short day was already dying. In almost every direction
the clouds were ragged and fading away. But wait - where the Stroud
valley carved deep into the Cotswold Edge, and the sprawling town
sparkled in the late afternoon sun - a burgeoning cumulus filled the
sky. Good for another thirty odd miles if I could reach it in time.
I needn't have worried. Above that sunlit escarpment everything
seemed to be going up. The lift was strong and smooth to almost 6000
feet in cloud. South Cerney was in the bag and more if need be. Surely
it would be better to go for maximum distance now - change gear,
slow down - and extract as much as possible from the tailwind and
whatever else might still be around? With a bit of luck I might even
make Westbury Hill.
Near Chippenham two wide and gentle thermals, almost a matter
of drifting on the wind, gave me a few hundred feet between them.
Lazy circles under a cold and empty sky - swinging through ghostly
wisps of moisture which rose from the woods below. The sun had
almost gone and my feet were frozen. Then back on a southerly
heading - bowling along - as if there was half a gale behind me.
Lower and lower. Faster and faster. The classic optical illusion. Near
the ground the penetration seemed fantastic, but the hill loomed high
ahead, it would be touch and go. Inside the cockpit there was nothing
left except hope and cold and tension.
4.50 pm. Soaring Westbury on the north face, round the corner
from its White Horse, which needed a good spring clean. I had arrived
below the top to find surprisingly good hill lift and a last unexpected
thermal.
Ten minutes later, following the Wylie valley towards Salisbury,
and the light was beginning to go. There was a good field and a well
set up country house close to the main road. Time to call it a day.
The wind was bitterly cold as I secured the glider. When it dropped
there would be a hard frost. In the big house there was a warm
welcome and I was just in time for tea. We sat comfortably round the
glowing fire - my host and his wife - surrounded by their dogs and
children.
"Tell us about gliding," they said. And much later, over the second
sherry - "If they don't arrive soon, you'll join us to dinner."
Oh for the pleasures of cross country soaring in those far off days!
When Doc arrived it was colder than ever out in the field, and the ruts
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