It began like this........
Wednesday, Rasp is 5 stars saying ‘’it’s early yet but don’t make other arrangements for Saturday’’
On Thursday ‘’get stuff for sandwiches and lots of it’’
Friday ‘’ book overnight accommodation south of the Humber’’ wow, no mucking about.
Then Saturday came and it was now a 3 star day with wind that could be an issue but still worth not drinking too much coffee and packing my bus pass. Discussion on the forums centred on Tinto or Moorfoots but it was Moorfoots for me and the rest of the Wingbeat Cohort principally based on the fact that it is so much more versatile in a NW wind. The road to the top had no influence whatsoever, not even a little bit.
I arrived early complete with said sandwiches and retrieve bunny Linda who intended a cycle ride but we both spent the first half hour in the car drinking tea. Obviously too windy so Quinton took off. After a wobble or two he did a couple of 360’s and so started a somewhat measured frenzy with someone getting out a wind meter and others arranging passage through part of the Otterburn danger zone. A tad embarrassed to admit I have no idea how to set the airport QNH on my xctrainer, in fact I don’t think it’s possible.
Launch and still no other Wingbeat folk and I am feeling the need for more clothes which are at home. I had a small fantasy about others perhaps meeting at Dave’s bacon breakfast retreat in Walkerburn. But then the wind dropped away and not only was it a little frustrating but 15 or so other desperate gliders above the road at the Moorfoots felt uncomfortable so I made the walk a bit and fly a bit effort to get just beyond the quarry and then it was easy climbing and gliding forward with plenty of room, and the first gaggle was doing the same above the road.
GPS height 3000 ft and climbing but thinking of QNH I turned downwind and I could see the gaggle at least a 1000 ft higher to the east. Other Wingbeat team were probably arriving about this time and the day still young. Crossing the Herriot Road with height was easy but then it was all sink. Best route seemed between the two roads so maybe a long walkout but forced myself to take it. The wingbeat posse was Tommy, Rob, DaveH and Dudley I think, and the classic ridge run beckoned. Rob had a new glider to try and Tommy had his rock hunting net.
Slow and hard work for me but eventually it was climbing to over 4000ft between Dun Law and ladyside height. And no, I had never heard of those hills before either but I could now glide to a road. A nice wander downwind with plenty of height now and watching the progress of the now raggedly gaggle a mile to the east, some wings climbing and some struggling. I was doing both which meant staying the same height roughly.
Back at the Moorfoots the ridge run was being done but I gather the way back was now a little into wind which I recall well can really annoy a person.
Approaching the Eildons all was well and I even got the camera switched on. A chestnut brown glider was laid out and took off far below only to fly an uncomfortable looking roller coaster ride. It would smooth off when the thermal got to me at more than half way to base.
Rob quite liked his demo glider and Tommy captured a rare and interesting rock for his trophy wall. I met Dave later who had had a good day but I didn’t ask if I missed out on bacon rolls. Don’t know about Dudley but didn’t hear anything like a hard luck story on the forum so assume it was good for him too.
That sodding thermal was rough as hell when it met me. My arms were going like a toddler in desperate need of a pee. Nothing happened of course but I couldn’t take much of it and after three circles or so pointed south to look for something better. Well more rhomboid than circles, circles implies elements of control. I discussed it later with Przemek who flies the same glider and harness and he had the same experience in the same place and he too left. He then flew downwind and floated to 4700 ft to continue to Denholm.
I did not get lift but rather a long thermal searching glide to land in a numb legged ignominious heap at Charlesfield, a none place to the south west of St Boswells. But the sun was out and I had those Rasp induced sandwiches, and a retrieve bunny if needed, and a pub a short walk away and maybe even an evening fly later on.
No evening flying but ended up with beer at Quinton and Dorita’s which was such a nice finish to the day.
