The excitement of pioneering a new site had faded slightly by the time I had wheezed and gasped my way to the top of what is quite possibly the steepest grassy slope in Europe. How the heck does grass stick to a gradient like this I thought, as I executed yet another Buster Keaton arm-flailing moment, narrowly avoiding cartwheeling back down to the reservoir.
I had already named it Hearbreak Ridge, although I see from the OS map it more correctly termed Syart Law, on the south side of Megget. It’s a tempting looking ridge facing NNW, with what looks like the potential for an easy soar along the length of the loch and possibly further west towards Nickies Knowe.
When Tommy, Robert, the other Chris (let’s call him beardy Chris to avoid confusion) and myself got to the top, the wind was very light, probably no more than 3-4kts, but more or less on the main face. I decided to wait a while until my face had turned slightly less purple and watched the other three explore the marginal lift. 
.jpg "Rob and Chris - Megget(M)")
I was surprised they all (just) managed to stay up in so little wind, which is probably a reflection on just how steep the face was. It’s an appealing hill if it’s too NW for Bridgend, a nice view and the length of the ridge leaves plenty of room for a gaggle to spread out. About half way along the opposite side of loch there’s a nicely-shaped bowl that would catch the afternoon sun and Tommy reckons it would be a prime source of thermals in the right conditions.
But enough of just watching, I wanted to be up there with them.
In a display of classic bad timing, as soon as I shook out my wing and clipped in, the breeze dropped to zero. After a few minutes it came back from NE, and fortunately the ridge would still work in this direction, less steep and not so wide, but enough to just about maintain height if you're a good pilot (i.e. everyone but me).
The other three were doing the flying/boating/slope landing thing, although Robert seemed to be doing best on that lovely looking Carrera. After a bit of much-needed GH practice at keeping the Gin Oasis over my head, I could resist it no longer and walked forward and into the sky.
I just love that moment of transition, and the feeling of elation when you take off and you feel the wind through the wing rather than just feeling it on your face. It was pretty marginal for me, and cursed as I am with incurable optimism (I keep a map of the whole of Scotland in the side pocket – just in case) and probably not helped by the fact I’d forgotten to switch on my vario, I proceeded in an orderly manner to slowly but surely lose touch with the top of the ridge. I didn’t really mind that much as the air was very smooth and there was enough going on to give me time to enjoy the scenery and change my mind about the landing site four or five times.
I weighed up the options as I curved in over the dam:
deep water? – no, tall trees? – no, criss-cross barbed wire fences? – no, big wet boggy bit probably full of midgies – perfect.
Managed to execute a text-book landing, which I presume is what always happens when there’s no-one around to see you, and gazed longingly at the other three still floating around the top. Considered for all of a nanosecond going back up, then decided it was too late in the evening and walked back to the car at the top of the dam.
This proved to be one of my better decisions, as the wind had pretty well switched off by the time I had wrapped up.
I walked back along the dam to video the guys landing on it, which looked pretty good although Tommy forgot to put the undercarriage down and Robert missed (intentionally) by a country mile, landing higher up the slope in the vain hope of avoiding the toothsome insects. I thought I’d enliven the final part of the evening by locking the keys in the car, and a huge thanks to Tommy for getting me to the remains of the Gordon Arms before I fainted from blood loss to meet my son with the spare key that I didn’t even know I had (the spare key, not the son).
So yet another beautiful Borders site with lots of potential for long(ish) ridge traverses that I could pretend were a sort of two-mile cross-country. Things to watch out for? Well, I’d suggest pacing yourself on the climb up if you’re as unfit as me and feel you want to hold a conversation when you get to the top. In fact, that easterly face looks more like the Bridgend climb up and definitely the route I’ll take when we go again. Landing options? If it’s NNW or NW, then the bottom of the slope goes straight into the reservoir and it will require a haggis-style landing well back from the water’s edge. Lots of room below the dam, but it might be a bit unpleasant if you get too close to it and the wind is spilling over the top. Cross-country options? Well, what would I know about that? I’d be happy to make the length of the ridge, and with a little boost you would be able to make Bridgend. A decent thermal would surely get you over the back to Loch Skein, which must be one of the best views in the Borders and definitely on my list of things to do (a very long list, as it happens).
So there we are. I’m looking to set the record for the longest report on the shortest flight. How did I do? Photos and short video on the way with pictures of everyone but me, so check back here if it's not already up.
See you on the hill!
Chris
