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Paragliding Prairie Dogs

Sun, 27 Sep 2009 23:02:36 +0100

Having decided that I needed to arrive early to catch the wind, or late and go to Caburn for the sea-breeze, we inexplicably did neither: rocking up around 11.15 to see one barely maintaining in the bowl, another struggling to ground handle in minimal wind, and plenty stood around waiting...but the sun was out, and people were hopeful, in spite of the high pressure and forecast of slackening breeze.
It picked up momentarily, and takeoff quickly became littered with unfurled wings. A few launched around to the bowl...then landed, as the wind died again. I asked around whether people thought it would be better at Firle: “no” - reports via mobile were worse. I unpacked, hopeful of some thermals later on...people came and went, but mostly people just waited and chatted. Jessica and Yoshino sat on the pick-nick blanket, while I stayed clipped into my gear - she said that we looked like prairie dogs - all faced into the wind, looking into the middle-distance intently.
After 1.30 or so, thermals started to develop out front, marked by birds circling out in front, and cumulus growing overhead. One-by-one, people got desperate, or hopeful and began to launch in the odd flurry, attempting to glide out to the lift...but none made it...some appearing back on launch having hitched a lift.
Eventually my turn at the front of the desperation queue came - I could see a bird circling far outfront, and the wind had gusted off to the west (sea breeze?), but now came back on: too light to reverse launch with my skill, so A-risers in hand, step back then: run, run, run, feel the glider come up, straighten, onto the breaks and....we’re airborne. I headed straight out under the bird...a few flurries of lift, then turned west under a small cumulus over a ploughed field. Circling in the zeros, there was something there, but I was already too low to make up, so resigned myself to landing.
Two or three pilots were already packing in the landing field, with one car about to head back up. I mobiled Yoshino (who had seen my launch while walking along the top), who agreed to drive down and pick me up after I gave her the name of the village below launch (Fulking) for the satnav. After a not very straightforward journey down, she arrived at landing and we gave mad farmer Dave and Alison a lift back up - crammed in the back, next to Jessica sleeping in her seat.
The wind had come back on when we arrived back at the top, and a few were soaring (just). The mad one rushed to launch again, but we decided the day was done - Jessie was getting tired...as we drove down the decision was validated: I couldn’t see anyone having made it above launch.
A typically frustrating Dyke day - not enough wind and too much waiting around.
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What I Hate about Paragliding

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 00:14:49 +0100

This s what I hate about paragliding: I am driving through the woods on the A4 between Malborough and the site - the trees are barely moving. Earlier, on the M4 at reading, the wind turbine was static - the first time I’d ever seen it so. The questions is: did we pick the right site (Milk rather than Caburn), and is the weather even good enough to spend the browny points on?
XCWeather had been forecasting a strengthening wind, so we challenged ourselves to be there early, and of course failed. I was gone 11 by the time I had driven the car back down to the lower space, yomped up, and retrieved my wing from Bruce.
Conditions felt ok. The sky was clouding over from the South-West - probably already to late to XC into the attractive looking sky North and East. As always, a few were sitting on the ground, prevaricating - waiting for the perfect conditios, but the wind felt ok, if a little blustery, and a bit off to the South. Occasionally we say a glider or two poke above the hill from the White Horse side, but it didn’t feel South enough to me. One pilot launched, then another, and by this time I was ready and clipped, Bruce soon followed.
The air was ok - we beat back and forth for a while, never gaining great hight, but it was pleasant enough. Once or twice the glider russled, but nothing to worry about. The wind came in definite cycles, and after a while I got low in a lull, and decided to land rather than scratch along low. Soon after, the wind picked up, and I waited on the ground for Bruce to land. One further launch attempt failed, and I decided to unclip.
After Bruce came in, we packed up and walked around to the white horse, encountering the herd of cows on the way. There were more people here - some flying, some waiting. We had a chat about conditions, then as things looked good, despite the ominously grey sky, I launched...in fact, most of the people on the hill did too.
The air was buoyant, and I soon got some decent height - enough to try a few lazy 360s. The cloud was low though - I saw a hangy off up high, and thought I’d practice my big-ears, in case needed, then climb up again - big mistake...that was the highpoint of my flight. Bruce had paid the price for not getting ready early, but he now launched also. After 30 minutes or so, I landed, as the wind slackened and the thermals cut off. After a few minutes ground handling, we packed up, walked down the hill to the car, and back to my mum’s house to retrieve Yoshino and Jessica for the drive home.
All in all, quite an ok day.
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Breaking the Duck

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 16:55:23 +0100

After the holiday from hell, and a spell of arriving on the hill, only to be unable to fly, I felt lucky to have an unexpected chance to fly: with a brief window in the weather, time off work, and a pass from Yoshino all lining up.
I arrived on the hill, thinking I was half an hour late (as always) - not helped by a wrong turn, watching the first gaggle leave as I trudged up the hill. On top, people were soaring, but not very high. The wind was good, with clouds building off to the West , and only a hint of cirrus high up.
My period of inaction showed - my first launch was terrible - I accidently turned my vario off, reached down to turn it on, shuffled back into my harness and pulled up my flight-deck - when I should have been concentrating on where I was going. I soared around to the shoulder, for all of a minute, the sloped landed.
I walked up, and practiced some ground handling - there seemed to be lots of low-airtimers, watching and staring, but not taking the time to practice.
The wind was good, but the air not really too lifty. I launched again - not much better, for all of two minutes. Up I trudged again.
Third time, and 5 minutes managed, getting some confidence back at least. By the forth flight, I was soaring with the rest, and managed to dig into a good thermal shooting me 100m up, but too far back for my liking.
By the fifth launch, the cirrus was starting to come in, and I decided that if went down, I’d make that my last - not much chance of thermic activity with the power source turned off. I held my own for plenty of time, with few other pilots flying at this time (I’d mist a better thermic patch when I stopped to have a drink), but only dynamic left, no thermal escalators. I soared around to the main summit, and began losing hight...one last chance of some lift, but not, so down to the landing field and car-park I drifted.
By the time I got there, the cirrus had already started to lift, and people were flying again...others walked back up, but a decision is a decision, so I packed up and hit the road. Ironically, when I got home, Yoshino and Jessica were at a friends, so I could have stayed with impunity...the sky looked good for the whole journey home, so maybe the flying remained good...but the cloud would have shut things off in the end, and the meto-wind was forecast to drop off, so maintaining height would have become a struggle. Tonight: back to the rain and the wind - maybe good for the garden, but no good for paragliding...maybe better for family life that conditions aren’t always epic!

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Strike Two: Milk

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 08:39:11 +0100

Its not often actually that I try to go flying in the UK, then completely fail to get airborne: with opportunities so limited (even more so now with Jessica), planning has to be impeccable, and flying days restricted to dead-certs, rather than possibles or hopefuls; when Yoshino spotted two gliders above the hill, as we left Marlborough after our lunch stop, at around 3pm, I didn’t think this would be one of them. When we eventually got to the hill however, while a couple of gliders were in the air, most were on the ground, and ominously hanggies were rigging: if the wind is strong enough for them to soar, it too strong for us.
I chatted to a few on launch, and with the wind lulling a little, decided to get my kit out. It soon picked up again though. A few launched from the white horse side of the hill, and eventually thermalled off into the distance: more exposed I thought it would be even stronger there, but only as I was leaving did one of the other pilots explain that without the funnel effect of the bowl, and slightly lower, it was usually lighter.
Eventually I clipped in, hoping for a lull. I stood with the D-risers in my hand controlling the wing. No lull arrived. Eventually I tried to launch, but it was too strong, and I got pulled backwards before killing the wing - then end of my “flying” day. Only as I left did I realise, that the only reason that anyone was in the bowl rather than the hill, was that the hill is restricted to Pilot level only - I should have taken advantage of my qualification and walked around, but I didn’t know...anyway, we live and learn - I’ll know fr next time.

Newhaven, Nearly

Sat, 2 May 2009 23:08:39 +0100

With Yoshino and Jessica in tow, Caburn was out of the question for what looked like the only flyable day of the bankholiday weekend. The meteorological wind was from the West, so a trip to Rybury would have been better, but I didn’t fancy the crowds on the small site, and with driving down to Mum’s again tomorrow for her birthday, but with her house full with Peter’s brood tonight, staying would have been difficult.
I didn’t think an early start was necessary - it would be early afternoon before the sea breeze dragged the wind around to the South. With a few errands to run in the morning, we arrived a little later than I’d hoped. We couldn’t see anyone flying, so I walked up to take a look - the wind was a little to the W, judging by the flag on the coastguard tower, and a little strong - but probably flyable...but with no-one else around, I didn’t want to risk my first flight on a new site.
As we sat there debating what to do, a small car drove up with a paraglider bag in the passenger seat. I’d seen him on the hill a few times; he introduced himself as Pete and we agreed to walk up and collectively take a look.
The wind was gusty and still off to the West, but possibly flyable. Peter got ready, while Jessica, Yoshino and I watched. He inflated several times, but as the sea-breeze weakened, it clearly went further around to the West, making things difficult. After a few minutes, Pete decided to sit down and re-assess, and as we talked, it went further to the West - killing off the day. He told me that he could see Caburn from his house, and that there had been plenty flying earlier on, but there were none when he passed.
Hey-ho...better luck next time.