I picked up Randy on the other side of town Sunday morning before returning home to pick up Jeff before starting our relatively short 1 hour drive. John, Nick, and Nolle where already there when we arrived. Max, Peter, and another half dozen pilots dribbled in as we rigged.
Nick and Nolle launched and managed to stay airborne. Peter flew on Friday and kept emphasizing how cold it was at base (21F / -6C). I put on every layer I could and still squeeze into the harness and then waddled out to the tow line. Peter reported climbing at 700 fpm (3.5m/s) as I got ready to launch.
As usual, the tow behind Rhett was civilized; maybe a bit too civilized. Aside from a strong surge at the end of the runway, we didn't come across anything else interesting until we bumped into something around 1800 feet (550m). I released, climbed for a couple turns, and then sank out. I essentially had a sled ride back to the field for a whopping 11 minute flight. I landed mid-field to avoid turbulence. Of course, I just about died of overheating on the long walk back. Meanwhile Peter reported he was at 7500 feet (2280m). Thanks Peter.
John essentially repeated my performance a few minutes later. Randy was up next. Like Peter, he immediately found a climb to base and was soon flying off to the north on a course we talked over beforehand. A few minutes later Peter, who had fallen from grace, landed.
John, Peter, and I talked with Matt and others while we waited for the other pilots to get their first tow before giving it another go. It was almost 4pm before I was rolling down the field again behind Rhett. This time I stayed on for a full tow and still almost landed before finding a weak, but reliable, climb downwind of the field.
Climbing with a "local" off my wing
Given that Randy was somewhere downwind and Jeff already landed out, it began to look like I was the driver for the day. That meant I needed to land back at the field and my car. It wasn't my plan for the day, but hey, I was flying a new glider in good conditions with friends ... not exactly torture.
I flew over Jeff's landing field before returning to the field to watch Peter and several other pilots land. I was getting low and planning my approach when I noticed a helicopter hovering up and down the runway that showed no signs of leaving. Peter warned me on the radio, but I don't have an engine and when its time to land "its time to land"! I did everything I could to delay my approach and stumbled into a strong climb upwind of the field that solved the problem.
The climb took me right back to base at 7000 feet (2133m) under a fantastic cloud street that stretched far to the north.
It was really late, but how could I resist running that thing? Thoughts of getting back home at 6am the next morning is how! (After some reflection, I should have thrown convenience under the bus and gone for it.)
I settled for evening views of the sun dancing on the Quabbin Reservoir and shadows creeping across rocky fields nestled between treed hillsides.
I capped the evening with 12 miles (20 km) of whistling high speed glides in relatively smooth but buoyant air.
Jeff, who found a ride to the airport, and Nick, who landed upwind in Ware, watched my active but fine landing in breezy conditions.
As I quickly packed up in fading daylight, we discovered Randy had landed 72 miles (116 km) away near Concord, New Hampshire. After a few words with Bob and Rhett, Jeff and I drove to Barre to pick up his glider and then to my place where he left his car. Meanwhile, Randy found a ride partway home to Chelmsford with Ilya and Krassi who were returning from a flying weekend at Morningside. I met them for a late dinner before dropping Randy off at his place and returning home around midnight.
Check out the details of Randy's sweet flight on his blog Iron Man Hang-Gliding.
Flights: 2, Duration: 2:30
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