As the days progress, each day is getting hotter and hotter. And out west, this means higher thermals and faster speeds. The big question as far as the weather was concerned was whether the day would be dry and blue or have clouds. If there were clouds, it would be better to go somewhat earlier while they contained more energy and sucked you up to cloudbase. If it was blue, it would be better to go late to catch up to gaggle that would inevitably slow down, struggling to find the lift. I figured it would be blue, so I was not too worried when I was at the very back of the grid of the last class to launch.
Before launch, there was oodles of time to wait around. Even with the 18m class launching at 12pm, it would take at least two hours before I would be up. I stayed at my rented house and moseyed out to the airport. I waited around in the hangar, talked to the folks, even got a professional consultation by Alex Fairbairn. She was more than happy to oblige and educate me about massage therapy techniques as she kept looking over her 6-week-old little girl, Olivia.
Additionally, I had the joy of seeing my good friend John Bird. One of the pilots had disaster strike the preceding day when a strong gust managed to pick up his Libelle and damage the horizontal stabilizer and undercarriage. John Bird also flies a Libelle and generously offered to let the fellow fly it for the rest of the contest. Contests are fun for the flying, but they also bring together new and old friends. It was lovely spending the day and evening with John!
I headed over to the glider and got it ready to go. But much to my surprise, when I did my pre-takeoff checklist, I found my left flaperon was binding. With the towplane whirring, I called a dead stop and got out to see what was going on. It turned out that the flaperon had expanded a fair bit on the baking ramp, and the foam seals at the wingroot got in the way. I got back in and then the rope got stuck under the wheel and back released. Hooked up once more, we were finally on our way.
Time was ticking. The gate was to open in 15 minutes and after release it was a race to find the climb to get connected with the group. I tried here, there, and everywhere and could not find any thermal that was solid enough to climb in. I finally drove off toward the Hobbs delta and got down to 1000ft under a set of gliders. 2 knots, but enough to start working my way up.
The gate opened. Gliders streamed out on course and I was nowhere near 10,000ft. Approaching 3pm, I was still 1300ft below the top of the gate, but I felt like I *had* to go. I pushed over and went to the line, forgetting about the speed limit. Double ouch, taking a speed penalty and a height penalty.
I flew hard. Pushed the airspeed up to 110 knots, intent on running down the gaggle. I found the thermals reasonably enough and worked my way higher and higher in each one. Down on my flarm, I saw TT a half mile off my wingtip passing by. And then ahead a wing flash. VW pulls into a 5 knot thermal at my altitude! I’m thrilled to join and were climb harmoniously together.
He pushes off, and so do I and we’re racing to the back of the first cylinder. By raking the air we found the better lift lines and cored the thermals quicker. After the turn, I dropped off a bit and fell behind. One bad turn and Noah was gone, both visually and on the flarm. I looked ahead and pressed hard, hoping to find him again. The next time I caught a glimpse of him was when I finally hit a 6.5 knot thermal, to see him 700ft above. The rascal!
We parted ways for a while and I raced along the right-hand street. I periodically saw some gliders in the distance, but I was in my own sky. Approaching the second turn, I look over my shoulder and there was Noah again, but now at the same altitude. We tucked in together and worked our way into the turn, just nipping and going.
The time was approaching 6pm and the day was starting to weaken. I was also fading. The heat got to me and I was exhausted. Looking ahead, we needed one more solid climb to get connected and set up for the final glide. Here and there any everywhere, the lift was just not solid anymore. I was willing to settle, but the weaker thermals also had the nasty habit of dying off sooner. Finally, I look above and Noah is 800ft above me, driving into the last sector. Seeing that I was getting closer and closer to the surface of the moon beneath me, I turned tail into the wind, starting to get desperate to connect with the last thermal.
There were some clouds left, but there was less and less to work with. I had glide made to Lovington and I needed around 1000ft to get home. A bad turn here, a bad turn there, but at this point I’d take anything to get home. Finally, a solid 3 knots. Tim Taylor slid in and sailed out above me. As I left the thermal, Noah was off my wingtip. We’re going to get home!
Upon landing and opening the canopy, I took a deep breath and let out a big sigh. My performance was mediocre. Part of it was bad luck getting up on the start, more of it was being stupid and taking a start penalty and having an inefficient final glide. Staying ahead of the heat is also crucial as I was really beat and dehydrated. I spent the rest of the evening chugging water and trying to get my body to recover. Hopefully on Day 3 I’ll do better on all accounts.
Soaring Economist 