Three gliders, four people, a small pile of gear, and a plan. The plan: To have fun! To fly! To have more fun!
We set out from Dusklip Pass, a well known takeoff to us now after a week-long competition. We had discussed various options, with the intention of following the wind once aloft.
A gust on takeoff had Gill and I tripping over each other in the tandem. We got back to our feet, and followed Johan into the air. Greg was not far behind, and as we thermalled skyward we discussed our options. The expected northerly was missing, and progress to the south was going to be slow. Change of plan, and we drift northward.
Gill and I can’t keep up with the two solo gliders, but we keep them in sight, and eventually catch them again at Bumpy (great name for a hill, and very apt!). They are above us, and climbing well. We hook into the same thermal, and as we start gaining, a radio message informs us that they are taking this one over the back. At 1800m we drift over too. Much lower, but happy that things are going well.
Greg and Johan pull away from us again, and eventually are tiny red specks against the huge Cederburg range. The size of it makes distances deceptive, and I decide that they are no more that 5 km’s away.
Gill and I are taking turns with the flying. I have an extra set of controls fitted that allow Gill to fly from the front seat without having to stretch her arms too much. The system works well, and it’s great to be able to sit and enjoy the view without any distractions. I pull out my camera, only to find that the fall on takeoff has smashed it!!!
We are over the foothills on the other side of the valley. The wind has picked up, and the thermals aren’t really as strong as we’d like. Pooling our knowledge and experience, we discuss our options. In the distance we can see two small red gliders. We need to keep pushing on towards them, but for half an hour or so, we are trapped, unable to gain the required height to cross the range. Eventually we go, a bit lower than we’d like, but safely tucked inside a thermal. I’m flying at the moment, and Gill is giving me plenty of encouragement to stay with the thermal. A radio message informs us that Johan has bombed into a valley. He will make his way to the top of a pass and meet us there.
The next range is bigger again, with fantastically steep sides. We both worry about rotor, but drift over safely in a weak thermal. The highest peak is 2000m. Only 200m above it, and we have no illusions of its grandeur. It is stunning! Seemingly vertical rock faces, plunging valleys, and no vegetation, habitation or roads for kilometers. Going down here would be an interesting experience. Gill has the camera out, making the most of the spectacular view.
The drift is now westerly, and I confirm this on a small lake. We are directly in the lee, and it’s getting a little rough. Nothing serious, no collapses, but we need to keep an eye on things.
Greg has found a norwesterly wind, and is now several kilometers south of us. I suggest to Gill that we make our way to a ridge in front of us. It has a nice area for top landing, bush and water for camping and is near a road in the valley. She relays this over the radio asking if the others can make their way there. Johan doesn’t answer. Greg is now pinned against a hill in strong winds. He won’t make it, and asks us to land by the road. The intention is that he, Gill and I make our way back to join Johan. Not hearing both sides of the conversation is getting me confused, and I am reluctant to land by the road due to rotor. After a bit of indecision, our options were limited and we landed there anyway. The landing was a trifle down wind due to a sudden change of direction once we were committed, but we skate along and are ok.
We are ecstatic after such an incredible flight. Gill raves about it being her most enjoyable ever, and I’m sure that my grin in no smaller than hers. A farm truck pulls up, and Gill wanders over to see about obtaining a ride. The lad tells her that he is busy doing deliveries, but he can take us to a nearby farm who he is sure will help us.
We get there, and after changing trucks we are on our way. A brief stop as the farmer loads us up with armfuls of fresh fruit. WOW, this is magic. As he drives us to the top of the pass, another pick-up whizzes past. We catch a flash of yellow and recognize Greg’s shirt. A few minutes later, on top of the pass, we find that Greg too has been given fruit. A whole box if it. We wonder about opening a fruit stall. There is no sign of Johan, and the radio is quite. After a wait in the now howling wind, we set off to find a campsite.
A glider pops up over the ridge. It is Johan, unknowingly taking off in a sheltered spot. He has plans of catching up to us, not realizing that we are almost back with him. We watch as he is blown backwards over the ridge, his glider pitching wildly. Johan vanishes below the ridge top, doing some interesting things with his glider. There is nothing we can do. If he is injured, then the locals know where to find us. If he’s ok, then he will make his way back to us.
Out of sight of us, Johan gets his glider under control, and makes a good landing. The same farmer who brought Gill and I to the top is driving past. The farmer stops, tells Johan that his friends are at the top of the pass, and if he hops in, he will be taken up there too….
A short time later we have a camp (of sorts) rigged, and are excitedly discussing the days adventures. We pore over the map, wondering what adventures tomorrow will bring. Fresh fruit supplements our muesli and babies food (odd combination, but nutritious), and we settle down to sleep.