I was in the middle of the ordered launch which seemed about right for the wind and lack of clouds. I felt even better about my position when several early pilots landed for another go. I found a climb soon after releasing, but almost decked it when I returned to the field to take a later start. I always wonder why I play those silly start games! We had a virtual blender filled with gliders climbing out low over the airfield. I heard later that Lori looked up and said, "uh oh, looks like we need more fuel for the tugs"!
I hung on and climbed away. I was in a reasonable start position for the next start, but once again waited for the next start when I really didn't have any other choice but to go. I had a fun run trading positions with Jeff O'Brien and John Simon on the first leg. I stopped for a climb that didn't pay off near the first turn point and lost my traveling buddies. I got swept up with fast group from the next start clock on the second leg. Things were moving along nicely until I swept wide and came in low to a climb over the "bad lands". I couldn't find the climb everyone else was in and drifted away just to stay airborne. I kept drifting further and further off course line over scenic but uninviting territory.
I could only find weak climbs that barely improved my position.
I even spent some time ridge soaring; in Texas.
Of course, I didn't mention to my crew what kind of retrieve was in store if I landed. ;-)
I finally found a couple climbs that got me high enough to reach the turn point at the scenic plateau in Gail. Now, I had venture back across that same area. Oh joy!
I flew along the ridge lines I explored earlier but the day was dying. I had good glides, but the climbs didn't really match the opposing wind. I played with a number of tiny climbs and lift lines until I could see the western edge of the plateau decorated with crop circles. I couldn't tell if I was going to be above or below the ridge line when I arrived. I envision landing within a wing span of the edge, flaring, and hoping I didn't get blow back off the cliff!
One last climb gave me enough altitude to safely reach the plateau but not the 2400 feet (730 m) I needed to reach goal. I flew over the cliff edge, over a house, and landed next to a paved road in a cotton field.
LZ. Cliff edge is off the left side of the glider nose. (Click to enlarge).
5.5 hours of flying only to end up 6.5 miles (10 km) short on a 163 km task. Sigh. However, I really enjoyed the flight and the challenge of "getting back into the game" once I was blown off course.
Ryan, John, and PK showed up before I finished breaking down. The owner of the cotton field stopped by and we chatted awhile. He wanted to know where his bottle of champaign was! As usual, he and his friend were hospitable and fun.
We made it back just in time for dinner and the awards ceremony. Kraig, Jeff, and Larry took the top 3 spots. (All the scores are available on Soaring Spot). I said good bye to friends and collapsed in my motel room around mid-night, exhausted from a long day in the saddle.
The next morning we loaded up gliders and harnesses on John's car before heading to the airport in Midland. John picked up a few souvenirs before leaving.
I definitely enjoyed the flying this year. I thrive in challenging conditions that require strategic thinking and dogged determination; and Texas delivered.
Flights: 1, Duration: 5:34, Distance: 94.5
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