I have to be honest I had been busy with other things and I hadn’t been watching the weather, and when Saturday morning arrived it was quite a late rise for me. So when I came down stairs to see what was happening it was a bit of a shock to see that big things were starting to kick off at Tinto. So after I got my act together got kit in the car I was away quite a bit later than I would have liked to have been, and this would have a kick on effect later in the day.
Enroute I was trying to get a feel for the day and what the conditions would bring. There was a beautiful blue sky filled with some sparse cumulus, so what was it going to be? One of those hot frustratingly sweaty blue thermal days, or was it going to turn out a classic as everyone was predicting?
I got to Tinto around midday and I could see folk already climbing out, although I’d already giving myself a hardtime for taking my eye off the ball seeing this made it ten times worse! Anyway I’m on top of Tinto’s Green Hill and set up to launch for about 1 pm, and things are definitely happening, but its not as easy as first thought folk are hitting the thermals and going up and then they are spat out of them with some major sink influence and then back down on terra-firma. This was going to be the way it was all afternoon small punchy thermals followed by some serious sinking air. I remember a couple of guys complaining about this and then thought no guys this isn’t going to be a floaty boaty afternoon that you get at Tinto sometimes. (We fly in an unstable air mass, because that’s how it works the air you fly in is always going to be bumpy, so best get used to it).
The first fly attempts to get away were just testers really, a couple of times I got a little height, then got chucked out, and landing quite heavily (Did that happen to anyone else who was there?). Then there was a moment (Perhaps I am starting to develop Tommy’s sense of timing) as people are just landing back on top something just clicked and I’m off into a screamer big enough to climb in out front. However it only got me to 2.5k and that was not enough, so glided out front on a search for another which didn’t happen and eventually came back in time with enough height to latch into more lift and started the long climb out directly from above the bowl west of Greenhill. As it was not as strong as the first, and I was more in and out of it, but it was more established and myself and another pilot got to then 4k where I lost the lift “I think that there could have been a small inversion about that height as it can get a little bumpy when you hit one, and that’s when I headed for Dungavel as I could see someone have a nice climb off it’s west face.
If I hadn’t used the speed bar getting across the valley I think I would have been down, but I got to it as it with plenty of height and found little bits of zero’s coming off that front face, not enough to climb in, but there was a hangie in the area and I could see he was just about maintaining. So after a while since I wasn’t getting into the climb I wanted I decided to drift over the top of the hill and there I found it. It wasn’t a boomer, but it was getting me higher and eventually I got the to max height that airspace allows in that area. I saw a couple of gliders just south of me, watching as one hit major sink and was on his way to a landing at Abington (Think that was John Newton from AHPC) and I joined the other who seemed to avoid John’s demise (would you believe it, another Sigma!! But in yellow). Well my new friend and I worked together staying as high as we could over the small group of Abington hills when a red helmeted pilot in a (blue/grey with red leading edge) Mentor came out of nowhere and joined the party (I later found out it was Aussie Steve), and we were about to negotiate Turbine alley! (The bit that stretches from Abington to Moffat).
The three of us worked our way along the M74 in a roller coaster, climbing out and then on a death glide to the next climb between Crawford and Moffat, Steve definitely did his bit searching out finding the majority of climbs (thanks Steve), but we lost the other Sigma quite early as we saw him land on the east side of the motor way. I had previously seen him waving his arms around to get the circulation going, as it was quite cold at 5.5k, so I can only surmise that his flight ended quite early due to cold hands. The last climb that Steve and I had together got us to Moffat, where Steve went on a glide over the town and never recovered, and he landed out to the west of the town. Well from my advantage point I wasn’t going to do that, topped up to the max again and took a route to the east side of Moffat hoping that the surrounding hills would come to my aid. To my dismay I hit some rather large sink patches on the way to mouth of the Moffat valley (Stunning views all the way along to the Grey Mare’s Tale, unfortunately that was when I realized I had left the camera back at Greenhill! B**ger!! However it’s ok, as it’s on it’s way back to me as I write this).
Now I’m down to 2K and to the south of the town, and after a few minutes of searching, I’m into a thermal coming of a farmstead and I’m back up again. I have to admit dropping that height gave me a little bit of relief as the warmer temperature warmed my hands up enough to relieve the pain I was starting to get. So looking a head now the flight is starting to go into a transition and the terrain is starting to open up from flying hills to flatland. So I’ve now become very conscious of topping up with anything and everything. This was when things got more interesting and the roller-coaster ride stepped up a notch. The climbs were weaker and the sink was stronger: Although at no stage was I in a full stall situation, but it felt like that at times. As I was falling out of the sky and the glider was pitching around quite a bit, the vario had adopted a high pitch wail and as I glanced at it I noted it had gone all the way around to the max of 8ft down per second, that was as far as the instrument would show but I knew it was more, that’s why I think the glider was moving around a lot as it was battling hard to maintain its form/shape searching for good air.
Well I had about another half an hour of this new air mass and I was well on my way to Lockerbie, when I was seriously loosing height I remembered at one stage glancing at the GPS/vario and noting 11kms ground speed (thinking that it was bust, locked up or lying to me as I knew the met wind was coming from the north and behind me, so I should be doing at least 3 times that speed). I tried flying over forested areas to sniff out lift, but to no avail it was sink all the way into landing, where I experienced more glider control input was required, as I dropped the last 3/4 hundred feet almost vertical, then it dawned on me that the Sea breeze had come in put up a barrier and effectively put me on the deck 3 miles northeast of Lockerbie.
I really wanted to get to Carlise, or at the very least to cross the border. I can now go back to the start of this section of “War and Peace” and refer to my first comment - if I’d started perhaps an hour or two earlier in the day I might have got farther! Phone call to Jamie confirmed Sea breeze! Bu********er!!!
What a great day out and experiencing so many emotions in those 3 hrs, Can't get enough!!
Sorry no photo’s, even the back-up I carry wouldn’t turn on. Double B***er!
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