Classic Canungra 2008

The Canungra Classic 08

The Classic usually fills its 75 spots pretty fast and the competition often begins with a waiting list. Maybe the financial meltdown is to blame for this year’s low number of 55 competitors? Unfortunately the event was to finish with contention over the scoring system and the flying conditions weren’t epic like previous Classics. Day 1 saw the sea breeze come over the back earlier than expected preventing some pilots getting off the hill and day two was cancelled outright again due to an early sea breeze. Day 8 was cancelled due to poor flying conditions so all things considered you could be forgiven for thinking you didn’t miss out if you weren’t there. You’d be wrong, it was a top competition. Some of the best flying is the most challenging and this competition was proof of that.

Sometimes we were blessed with very good conditions and most days the flying varied significantly throughout the task. This variability suited intelligent flying and kept us on our toes. Day 1 started out like this and those who got off before the sea breeze arrived were greeted to surreal cloud formations over and near the take-off. As the NE hit we watched a second cloud base form below. We all needed cameras because the views were awe-inspiring! Unfortunately Les was unlucky to get stuck behind a few slow pokes and missed out beating the sea breeze. His new glider and harness and obvious eagerness would have to wait till day 3 before getting a real opportunity to cut loose.

The first task was a technical one: Mount Tamborine, 40km WSW to the township of Rathdowny, 17km west to Maroon, and then a final leg 25km Nth to Coulston. The sea breeze marched west extinguishing any heating and thermals in its wake. The smart ones picked this realizing the clock was ticking and went before the first start. Throughout the course the conditions changed from extremely buoyant sea breeze convergence to total shade between the turn points eventually to a flushing of all thermic activity as the maritime airmass moved inland. After a protracted save at near-canopy height early on I took things slowly and it was some time later that I was downwind of the last TP and finally at cloudbase. A glide from 7000’ and 26km out from goal went without hitting a single bump along the whole way and I would end up 3km short. Scott had charged in PWC style surfing the convergence and won the day with a total of only 4 in goal.

Day 2 was cancelled due to a sea breeze arriving around 11am.

Day 3 was difficult for some, very difficult for others, and apparently easy for the rest. We launched from the little used ‘Flying Fox’ launch, a NE site that is 600’ above the LZ in a narrow valley. It is ridge soarable and most got away and onto the 1st TP: Palen Creek.

The thermals were elusive and sheared, hard to hang onto and tight as. Local Knowledge or meticulous preparation would have paid off here since Palen Creek is a low spot in the general terrain and subsequent talk with locals revealed it to be a consistent ‘sink hole’. Never was the golden rule, be high at the turn point more sound advice. The worst position to be in was low at Palen Creek. I was unzipped 100m from the TP radius when I flew downwind to a rocky slope in a last ditch attempt to stay airborne. After the low save on day 1 I near beat it today and the effort paid off. I spent at least 20 minutes jostling with a handful of other desperates to salvage the flight in small bubbles that kept us alive until a real climb presented itself. 4 of us survived this one but we were unzipped for a long time and got blown downwind a ways before clawing back to altitude. Once up we separated, I had to detour alone back for the TP and then continued to trace the task slowly by myself. I was to find most of these guys landed out not long after we split up.

Scott was probably already in goal just behind Johnny Durand when I was negotiating a serious looking long glide over a definite ‘no landing’ area between the spectacular Mount Barney and Mount Maroon. Toes, teeth and anything else clenchable bared-down during the strong headwind and under intermittent cloud streets but eventually everything could relax after clearing this vast expanse of forest. Then almost straight away I hit a boomer at the beginning of the flats. I shook my head in relief when I settled into 600’/min only to look down and see someone still deep, lee side a 1000’ below and pushing headwind! Competitions bring out the best and the worst in us, but they are subjective terms.

Lake Moogera always seems to be the designated goal when it’s a headwind northerly and this makes for a tenuous final glide. The last ridge line prevents crossing the final 2km into goal if you are low but I have been here before and knew to get height. Camo and Les got in too not long after. In fact Les just cleared the final ridge and was unzipped in the headwind with only a few hundred metres to go, unsure if he would make it. Brian was stoked for a single retrieve stop at the goal paddock.

Day 4 continued the slow trend towards stabilizing flying conditions. The sky was bluer, the thermals even harder to latch onto and never seeming to connect in one column all the way to base. After a reasonable run from Tamborine and after negotiating a battery change for the GPS halfway to the TP the conditions got very fickle. 30 minutes later I found myself lining up a landing at the turn point: Lions Rd, about 30km short of goal. Soon after two guys in Stings landed next to me… LOL!

Hang gliding competitions are very good for the ego. You can be a hero one day and cut-off at knees the next. When this happens the ego shrivels up and perspective improves. I was starting to realise how much I had forgotten after the long hiatus, more than I thought. I had an hour to contemplate such things before Brian arrived. We loaded-up and started to drive down the road when he looked at me and confirmed in so many words that I was indeed a dud. Brian is also good for the ego.

We were off to retrieve Les who was about 10km closer to goal and he was still grinning when we found him. He is flying very well and loves his new equipment. Then we drove towards goal to get Camo and Scott where 25 pilots had made it ‘in’ and the LZ is very exclusive indeed; a fairdinkum runway/tarmac next to a salubrious looking golf course with manicured surroundings. It must have been a nice sight to watch during final glide.

Day 5: Attila Bertok, reigning world Champion, loves big tasks and so far he has been quiet on this front but today he declares the task committee has problems with their manhood. He is a tall Hungarian who speaks like Arnold Schwarzenegger and no one challenges his insinuation. Soon the task committee take the hint and set a 114km task around Killarney to Maryville. This area is mountainous with tall ranges and large tracts of forest.

We are back to Flying Fox launch and ready to go before 11am. Scott lays the map out in front of us on the truck tailgate and we huddle around to listen. His finger slowly traces the course, skipping over all the areas he knows we are familiar with but then his hand stops just short of goal. He taps his finger on the spot a few times and points to a concentration of contour lines. He is counts the contour interval and crunches the numbers then speaks without emotion, “You need 2000’ minimum to clear the range. From there you will easily make it in but remember the headwind. If you get low there is a gap in the range, here”, he points to a small dip in the contours, “but it is off course so best to stay high and fly straight in”. 1hr later Scott and I climb out together in a good one straight after our ordered launch.

Now, armed with yesterday’s lessons and today’s information I am confident. I am decisive and plan ahead. I charge out. I exhaust each option as each one fails to pay off and land just 27km from launch. The error of my ways is evident. I am alone in the paddock but it would've been appropriate to have a couple of women standing nearby looking surreptitious while slowly flexing their little fingers. Too hard, too fast; lesson # 4897.

Out on course Les is in his stride and finally gets an opportunity to put his skills and new equipment through the paces. Camo meets him near mount Maroon and would later tell how Les is in fine form but from here they part ways. Camo takes a novel track away from task line and into a vast plume of smoke from a bushfire that has been ticking away for several days. He thinks he saw a thermal column within the large scale area of smoke so he dives into the abyss and endures a good dose of carbon monoxide to get his climb and take it all the way to base. Talk about suffering for your art.

Les and Cam continue on their way to goal while Scott on the other hand goes down not far from me. He is in the Koralbyn Valley, a place I have also visited prematurely in a previous Classic. Scott says he has had good flights through there before but I have also been warned off this area by the locals. Brian finds the both of us and drops us in at the nearest town before heading west to chase Cam and Les.

Scott and I are grounded and start the afternoon with a hairdresser; an English lass who is playing guitar when we walk into her salon. Scott instructs her to sell him a hair cut. She accepts the challenge and convinces him a ‘style cut’ is the ticket and she did a fine job too. For her efforts Scott also pays her a nice compliment with a rare good luck charm. He takes out a 4-leaf clover from his wallet and hands it to her. She is touched and I am impressed.

We are still waiting for Brian and kill time with a visit to the library. Scott reads techno magazines while I grab a pile of Bird Watchers Australia but I only look at the photos. Later we are sitting in the park and Scott gets a pizza for dinner but I balk at the fast food and opt for three magnums instead. Then a text from Brian, ‘Camo made it to goal. Les is just short’ but it sounds like Les’ where abouts are hard to locate. It could be a delayed retrieve and sure enough the night falls… Scott and I are still in the park, the day has been long and watching him spin around on the childrens carousel is bringing back year 12 physics; F=mwwr, v=wr... 'We need to get out of here.'

Another pilot arrives on foot after walking 12km out of the boondocks. Apparently his car/driver ditched him without notification before he even got picked up and he is well ticked-off. His face says it all but he tells us anyway. He gets a phone call and walks out of earshot for a few minutes. Scott thinks he is paranoid. I think he is just venting. ‘Get us out of here' I think to myself and almost on cue a ride pulls up 50 feet away. Raef sticks his head out of the window, "Hey boys, need a ride?" We make it back to the camping ground, HQ, and download our GPS’s. Brian and Les arrive not long after and Les is smiling. He flew over 100km today.

Day 6 and we arrive at Beechmont, the same launch used for the Australian record set last year. We notice more stability with high cirrus trespassing from the south. Once again timing will be everything; get up and go before the heating dies. Beechmont is a bit of a lottery and to make matters worse it has a 90 minute turn around. Unfortunately Les succumbs like many others but the rest of us are on our way while Brian gets Les back to launch for a re-fly. Along with Camo and Scott I make the last of the foothill ranges with good height but the next 30km over flat Beaudesert is now completely shaded by the cirrus. Some of the guns come back to the ridge after testing the waters. I think to myself ‘Drop gears, throw out the anchors and tip toe!’

We all creep out into the cool and dark looking flats. Any blip in the terrain is a draw card for potential release of any residual hot air that remains on the ground. We are all in the same boat and there are slow moving gliders searching in the area trying to home-in on any lift. Three eagles join me in mine and help to re-centre as neighbouring cores redirect the thermal and meander it skyward. The eagles soon leave on glide. Then Attila appears out of no where, he is lower and on a fast glide to what I don’t know because there is nothing ahead to show lift. Metres of VG line flail behind him and his wing looks flat as a pancake as he burns up precious altitude and disappears out on course.

Somehow most of us get across Beaudesert but with little height to spare. Then the sun light returns but for some it's too late and they go down, but some of us look like making it. After another low save the conditions improve and the turn point comes up fast. The confidence swells which is becoming a sign to be wary of and today is no different. This halfway point has sun all along the course line but the sky is blue. Sure enough the air mass is different and the climbs are sheared, tight and sparse. I find myself 15km short of the last TP and low but in something that varies between climb and sink to average about 20’/min. I stick with it. The first priority is to stay in the air, I am drifting towards the TP anyway and going up, albeit extremely slowly. Besides, there are no other options to explore from this height. Drew Cooper coined a popular saying, Love the lift you're in. I hang tight.

I'm in this dysfunctional climb for so long that I become totally tuned to its choppy edges and pulsating strength and after circling and circling I almost zone-out while milking what little it has to offer. I soon see the leaders several kilometres away making their way back from the TP into the headwind and towards goal. Some are low, on glide and in survival mode. They are struggling and I will soon learn that a few of them will not make it in. I put myself in their shoes and all of a sudden my elusive 20’ average feels like a good place to be. During the long drift I notice other gliders on the ground, to the left and right of course and off in the distance.

Eventually after this 20 minute lesson in patience my climb comes together. It clears the inversion layer just as I pass over the rim of an extinct volcano and in two turns it grows into a smooth 600’/min thermal. I get the TP and after one more good climb and a bit of strategic ridge soaring on the way-in 'goal' is in the bag.

Les’ bombout put him out of step with the wave of cirrus as it moved through but he made a valiant effort to get out to the Chicken Shed Ridge and beyond the foothills. Scott too missed out today but like a winner he takes it in his stride. No one failure will be allowed to negatively affect subsequent flights, he will analyse everything to learn from the flight irrespective of its level of success. He is a model of eventual victory.

Day 7 looks difficult. The stability is evident as we are a day and a half prefrontal. Blue with inversions and those squirrelly, tight and sheared climbs are odds-on. We will be launching from Tamborine to head down to that old chestnut; Palen Creek, then followed by a shortish headwind leg up a narrow valley to Rathdowny. Attila makes no reference about manhood and the comp committee. It’s a petite task but everyone knows the conditions will make it hard. Canungra is technically difficult and distance is secondary.

From Days 2 and 4 I know not to follow the Boarder Ranges and I also know to be high at Palen Creek. The headwind will be strong on the last leg so again, be high at Palen Creek. But all these considerations exclude launch. Mount Tamborine in a north wind is ordinary and getting away from here is made much harder by the stability and the drift. About 25% of the field will land in the bombout today.

It was a struggle to get high but now and then persevering with the broken and sheared climbs that pulse in strength would eventually see them consolidate into a coherent core. When they did you were stoked. Spending 4 times as long climbing in tight sheared-up thermals made the good ones feel like gems, and they were. The hardest part was early on but 15km before the TP a really good climb was finally found over a shallow valley. The sloping treed knoll with a road winding along the base fed a 300’/min climb that turned into a smooth 750 all the way to several thousand feet. Better thermals were now more frequent as the TP approached, due no doubt to the change in topography, from the flats to small hills and narrow ridgelines. I was the 9th and last one in goal. Scott came in 2nd and Camo was 4th.

Day 8 was cancelled due to the arrival of a front and bad weather.

Try to make it the Canungra Classic next year. This club puts on a competition you will not forget. They are a very pro active and supportive group of skilled pilots and organize everything for ease, entrainment and quality flying. The area is technical to fly and pushes your skills. Some of the best pilots in Australia come from this region. A few of the best pilots in the world come from here, a testament to the quality of flying and the groundswell of talent. The bottom line is ‘FUN’ and this they never fail to deliver on year after year.

Whispering wind

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I was on the freeway by 10am and pushing hard to do the 140km ASAP. Sometimes the speeds went higher but only when the coast was clear of highway patrols and speed cameras. The sky was dark and grey thanks to a vague and perpetual layer of cloud that dropped light drizzle during the whole trip. I forged ahead despite its threat to kill any possibility of a flight. At the halfway point the fuel icon lit up which meant I was down to the last 9 liters, probably enough to cover the rest of the trip but I wasn’t going to risk the flight because I ran out of gas. Airtime is too rare these days. I rolled into the Caltex at Swansea, 30km short, filled the tank and five minutes later I was on the road heading north into Newcastle.

The rain stopped just before I arrived at Merewether. The hill faced squarely into the cool, 18 knot SSE sea breeze while a lone hang glider meandered back and forth above the launch. The deliberate figure-of-eights and red streamer flying off the kingpost identified it as a trainer. At the edge of take-off Tony Barton stood alone, rugged-up in winter gear to beat off the cold, his hands holding a radio close to his face while he looked up to observe the student’s every move. From a distance Tony’s instructions were just a murmur as he coached his charge, then he slowly glanced around and offered a nod and a smile before returning his full attention to the student. I rolled the glider off my shoulder and didn’t slow down to set-up but I did look up once or twice to catch a glimpse of the soloing student. Each time made me grin, half in admiration of the pilots’ new found freedom, half in the anticipation of being airborne in about 15 minutes.

Just as I launched the drizzle started again so I set a course for the strongest lift in front of the eastern face. Maximum height was the ideal holding pattern to ride out the wet while the rain passed by. Tiny beads of water quickly coated the sunglasses and basebar, both good measures of how wet the Mylar got, and a look upwards revealed beading along the leading edges. As the droplets coalesced and grew on the top surface the airflow deteriorated and the wing confirmed this with a diminishing performance and poor handling. The turns insisted on being progressively flatter, and faster, and there was an increasing margin above the usual stall speed. I pulled on a full arms length of VG and the subtle and increasing tendency for the nose to 'nod' disappeared.

I eyed the full deck of grey cloud in all directions and waited for improving conditions but at the same time I already felt that inner relief tinged with euphoria, the contentment that descends the moment that last step gives a final push to launch hang glider and pilot into the air. I was no longer confined to the direction of a highway or the limit of a speed camera, or the authority of the police, or anyone else. Movement now was free and bound only by the imagination. Flying straight, turning, flying level, sedately, quietly soaring over the ocean remote from the land-based life. Freedom.

Gradually the rain stopped and the sky brightened-up as the cloud deck thinned. The glider began to dry out. Small cumuli could now be seen within the general cloud cover and soon waves of lift started appearing as lines of slightly darker water on the ocean surface, ‘sets’, that moved-in perpendicular to the wind direction, mild at first but increasing in strength over the next hour. The intermittent increase in altitude gave a stark contrast to the lower and slightly longer lulls in between the waves of lift. Good timing with each sweep of the instability allowed for a jump to and back from adjacent headlands north and south. At any one time a look out over the ocean showed three to four equally spaced, parallel lines of instability that arrived like clockwork.

I rode the waves of instability and flew into the afternoon. The lift lines continued to get thicker and more defined and now and then a bulge along the leading edge of the squall would catch the eye, so I waited from up high before spotting the next one. It was about 500m upwind so with VG 'on' I flew a course to intercept and eventually reached it at about 300’ ASL over the beach. Right away the sink slowed and smoothly reversed into solid lift of about 400’/minute. I continued straight ahead, eased off the VG and let the glider settle-in at trim and watched the headland in the distance drop away relative to the next one behind. I banked to the left and once the turn was established was 'on rails' in the smooth seabreeze. It’s the middle of winter at a cold and overcast coastal site so I expected the lift to die out before too long. But it didn't. The first few circles were telling, they connected with a constant climb rate as the glider threaded its way up to higher altitude, and well away from the cliffs and ridge lift.

I circled and drifted and watched the beach, surf and headlands drop away. The positions of the hills out to the west were a good gauge of climb and I had double launch height in short order. I re-centered a few times mainly to correct slightly upwind and watched Lake Macquarie and Speers Point, both about 10km away, come into view. The big construction cranes 5km away lined up with Mount Sugarloaf in the distance and a few more turns had them dropping out of alignment altogether. I quickly passed through the first thousand feet and the climb rate didn’t vary one bit. I looked up to gauge how far away cloud base was and felt there would be some drifting involved to make the link, and there was no coming back once committed. Today was the day for a XC from the coast. I was flying to a timetable and had other commitments so the opportunity was passed-up so the rest of the afternoon was spent staying within reach of the car. The rest of the flight was a mix of ridge soaring and biding time before circling in the next thermal, getting as high as possible before straightening-up and gliding back to the coast. Still great fun but I wish I could have gone with it.

These were rare conditions. It only happens a few times a year and usually at the change of season but to get really good climbs like today is special. The thermals were most consistent and strongest at about 2pm. At that time the drift direction had improved and gave a tailwind of about 30kph. Inland the clouds looked flat bottomed, tall and about 7000-8000’ AGL. A three hour flight with a conservative pace would have given a fantastic tour of the Hunter Valley, despite the early twilight at this time of the year. That would have been something really good to write about.

I landed, packed the glider and harness, loaded up the car and drove out of the carpark. Soon I was back on the freeway.

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Air Europe

Here is my latest video, to watch click on the link:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=7134W_G7Tpg

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Winter is all but here and the flying has thinned out, plus our video camera stopped working a while ago so I am out of footage to edit. No more clips until next season I guess.

I have always liked the music from the French duo Air. I first heard their songs on a cassette player in a German hire van in 2000 while traveling through Europe with two buddies; Mick and Al. We traveled through Austria, Italy, France and a little of Germany in the Buchbinder van with our hang gliders strapped to the roof. Mick had brought some really good music. Apart from Air I also remember listening to a lot of Tonic, The Verve and Powderfinger. Driving over the Ferker Pass in Switzerland at 2am under a full moon, along the Italian Aps or through Bavaria, there was almost always some music to accompany the moment. Sometimes it was front and centre and loud, other times it was subtle and quietly playing in the background, other times it was turned 'off'. We all had similar appreciation for the music and the appropriate time when to 'turn it up', turn it down', or to have none at all.

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Breakfast in a French B&B: bagettes, beurre frais, confiture, et cafe (bien sur).

It was my first taste of cross country flying and I had two very experienced and skilled mates to show me how it was done. For more than two months the three of us traveled through Europe flying at some very spectacular sites and meeting a lot of people along the way. I literally had about 5 inland flights under my belt when we took off in the 747 from Sydney, I had never been to Europe and we were going to some of the worlds best flying sites. But my inexperience didn't prevent me from realizing I was diving in at the deep end. I did however have a heap of hours flying on the coast and I was confident with launching and landing so I was thinking I was pretty safe. Besides, I had Mick and Al to help me out but nevertheless I was still filled with a lot of anticipation. And as traveling companions these two guys were the best.

Glienkersee, Windischgarsten, in Austria.

Mick is a very funny guy and we discovered his sense of humour transcended any language and cultural barrier. Many a night we found ourselves dining as guests of local pilots and often enough Mick had everyone in fits of laughter. He is a very skilled pilot and does everything with aplomb; aerobatics, crosscountry flying, instructing students, landing in a tight spot... You see him fly and something catches your eye. All of these photos are from Mick's photo album.

The LZ in front of the 'Flyers Bar' at the base of Kossen, Austria.

Al's dry sense of humour was a perfect counterpoint to Mick's flamboyant take on things. Al has been flying for decades and has achieved atleast one world first in a hang glider. He is a doctor by trade and speaks with a lot of understatement so it took me a while to really appreciate the exploits of his pioneering spirit. He was one of the first to open-up the reknown Borah/Manilla site in NSW but Al's most notable achievement took place in the 1990's when he was the first person to soar the morning glory in northern Australia. As we traveled from village to village, and flew each new launch, and as we met other European pilots I slowly recognised how inspirational Al's flights on the morning glory were to a lot of people around the world. The Europeans knew of Al and his unique flights long before we arrived and many rolled out the red carpet in honour of his accomplishment.

High over Larangne, France.

Those two months went by quickly. We flew as much as possible. Above central France, Larangne, and Chamonix in the French Alps; Bassano at the foot of the Italian Alps to Monte Cucco near the Mediterranean; to the top of The Wilder Kaiser, 'The Kings Teeth', in Kossen and Windischgarsten in Austria. We saw Europe from the air. We nearly lost Mick and Al forever due to some lethal, continental sized cloud suck over Castelluccio, Italy. I phoned my dad (who was in bed back in Australia) from 12,444' over France, a height I never ever dreamed of after only a few years of low altitude coastal flying. And there were so many more good times like these.

The sign says it all...

We, the three of us and everyone we met, were initially drawn together because of our common pursuit of flying but flying also served as the ice breaker. It was a common passion that quickly connected us to many other people. Experiencing the cultural differences was a unexpected reward for our travels and worth the trip on its own.

Soaring over Monte Cucco, Italy.

As the three of us meandered though Europe we left a wake of good times, spectacular flying and new friends. All the while Micks tapes filled der Buchbinder with memorable music where ever we went. Those songs and instrumental tracks still take me back to the places we visited and remind me of those special times.

I have combined the track All I Need with footage of a classic day of where it all began for me, soaring over the east coast of Australia.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=7134W_G7Tpg

Air, their first album

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The Speed Run and Top Landing

Merewether is great.

It is a low coastal site at 270' ASL and one of many headlands that interrupt the endless string of sandy beaches along the eastern seaboard. It has a low topography varying between sheer cliff, shallow slope, cusp shaped bowls and level beach. The skill requirements to fly this site start at the student level and so it is here where many solo flights over past years have ushered-in several generations of pilots. I learnt to fly at Merewether under the tuition of a brilliant instructor. Since then my teacher has largely been the explorations and gradual understanding of this site's diverse character.

The Speed Run: approach over the tree canopy and match the descending gradient of the track leading to launch.

The down slope to launch maintains the speed as you fly over the take-off and out into open airspace as the hill drops away.
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Top landing at Merewether is a skill never perfected. During identical conditions successive approaches will feel different. The LZ is small with a shallow down slope, the back corner is in wind shadow and there is some turbulence at the edges. As little as a few degrees change in wind direction transforms everything into a completely different ball game. A lot of hardware and some body parts have succummed to its nuances when the site is not treated with respect and caution. A healthy regard for the site will keep you in the minority.

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Often it is safer to run-out the landing rather than tempt fate by slowing down with the nose-high during the flare.

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Merewether is a complete site that nutures all levels of skill from student through to the advanced.

A Home of Hang Gliding

The forecast said a southerly wind at dawn but it never arrived so my first flight at Stanwell Park is postponed, again. All good things are worth waiting for...
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What to do today? The thought of heading south from my home to fly Stanwell Park had planted a seed, of doing something that could be regarded as a privelege in the world of hang gliding. For here in Sydney is Moyes Delta Gliders.

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Everyone knows their product particularly their high performance thoroughbred; the litespeed (and variants). Most will also know that Bill Moyes is regarded as one of the fathers of hang gliding, along with John Dickenson and Dr Francis Rogallo. Others will know that Bill's son, Steve, is a past world champion and has been a competitor in more World Titles than anyone else (14 I believe). Current world champion, Atilla Bertok, is on the Moyes team. Gerolf Heinrichs is their chief designer and regular World titles podium place getter. Jon Durand recently broke the world hill launch distance record by flying 517km...
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Enough background. A visit to the Moyes factory should at least be interesting so I made the 40 minute drive to Botony Bay. Here is the short tour with some nice surprises along the way.

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Bussiness looks good! I walked in the back entrance and was greeted by boxes of new wings straight out of the mint and ready for the freight terminal.

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I felt like a young boy looking at a bowl of red lollies but not allowed to have any. Carbon outers... Just saying it out loud is music to the ears. I have wanted some for a long time.
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A gold shot; A father and a son of hang gliding. Hang gliding pioneer Bill Moyes with son and ex world champion Steve.
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Wow! Bobby Bailey designer of the ubiquitous tug, the Dragonfly, with Bill Moyes.
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Ever seen one of the worlds best in their prime doing production-line work? Here I found Jon Durand teasing apart 1000's of battern fittings. No discrimination in this factory. Nice to catch-up with this young lad and soon to be world champion. He flies to Arizona on Wednesday where he will compete and probably win that one too.

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To be expected, wall to wall trophies won by both Bill and Steve.
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Vertical intergration with the sail loft on-site. The wing skins; mylar and dacron, handled by another Steve, a kiwi by birth and despite this a top bloke (just kidding, about the 'kiwi' bit). Steve is a long-time keen pilot and a craftsman judging by the quality of his work.
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Ever seen alcohol labeled in honor of hang gliding? Neither had I until today. I suspect it maybe sake.
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Yep, its a factory with all the standard features.
Nice to see hazmat plackard with CO2 fire extinguisher (sorry, always on the job).
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As I walked up stairs to say 'hi' to Vicki who runs the office I found more sign of wings on the way. Rolls of pristine sail ready to dress aluminium (and no doubt some carbon).
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As I walked through the factory I saw an illustrated presentation of Leonardo Da Vinci's inventions and just to the left was this photgraph of where powered flight all began. Orville and Wilbur making their 'giant leap for mankind'. It was subtle but obvious that Bill Moyes has drawn inspiration from the roots of human flight. I got the feeling that this purity of motivation maybe at the core of the Moyes success story.

Banana Republic

So, what are you supposed to do with a bushell of perfectly ripe bananas?

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Mum's secret recipe now revealed!

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First check the pantry and see if you need shop for the following ingredients:

1 cup of brown sugar

120 grams of unsalted butter

2 cups of wholemeal self raising flour

1/2 teaspoon of vanilla

1/2 tespoon bicarb soda

2 eggs

1/4 cup sour milk

2 ripe bananas

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Second, follow these instructions

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Melt the butter and cream with sugar.

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Add vanilla.

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Sift dry ingedients (flour and bicarb) then add 1/3 to mixture

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Add each egg, one at a time and beat into creamed mixture.

Add half of remaining dry ingedients and stir in.

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Add milk then add remaining dry mixture and stir away.

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Add mashed bananas, stir thoroughly.

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Cook in moderate oven (150 degrees Celsius) for 45 minutes.

.All the effort was rewarded with my beautiful better half declaring, "mmm, that's wonderfull". We skipped supper and dined on slices of cake with Baileys and milk.

. Voila! Three cooling with one in the oven and there are still bananas left over (it was a long day).

Tip: For some reason the texture is much nicer the following day.

Waiting to fly, Going Vertical, Freedom

I think Dave Gilmore of Pink Floyd knows how to fly. Their song Learning to Fly, with its music and lyrics perfectly captures the emotions of a pilot, from the thrill and fascination of soaring like a bird through to the restlessness and discontent when grounded:

There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, A state of bliss
Can't keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

Two years ago my wife gave me a video camera and this has helped douse the frustrations when I am stuck on the ground. Video offers a virtual reflight of an earlier session and provides an interest with editing etc. The following clip of that first flight with the camera is a short 45 second take at my home site in Australia.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Arf4Zrzrb_E

I watch this footage and remember feeling like a young boy having free reign in a playground. I clearly recall the moment as being smooth and peaceful with a little anticipation to see how the playback will look after I land. It reminds me of feeling complete independence and freedom when I fly, especially whenever the air is perfect and I'm doing aerobatics and have the airspace to myself.

The whole clip is a single composition but when I think of aerobatics there are moments during any manoeuvre that pop-up as a or the highlight. For a loop the following photographs show those moments, the first of which is at the begining of the dive when the nose drops, when gravity gets a full hold and the earth starts accelerating towards you.

One of the first things you notice is the change in sound. At first it is the low volume hum of airflow around the helmet but soon it’s a deafening riot of high frequency distortion and noise as the glider builds up to maximum speed. Before long the glider wants to pull out of the dive and when it is time I ease the pressure on the control frame and gradually level out. I am starting the loop.

My favorite moment is when the glider is climbing vertically. For that split second it’s just you and the wing leaving the earth behind heading straight for the clouds and the sky. I think this is how it must look for a astronaut during lift-off. I often wish at that instant I could do the same, pull-in slightly to keep the glider going vertical, and just keep heading for space.

Moving through the air suspended upside down with positive g is an unknown sensation for most people. I will never grow tired of the magic and charm of flying inverted.

Everyones desire for freedom is strong. I know mine is. Aerobatics in a hang glider is the most effective means I possess to satisfy the instinct for freedom.

Above: just before going inverted, and below: just after. Exhilaration!

I think we are meant to fly. I can't wait till next time...

Next Time

Low clouds a kilometre to the west were dark with base that was moving around and looking stormy. I almost turned around to make good use of time and continue packing up the house but thought better of it. While there's a chance to fly, no matter how small, its wise to be ready to go so I continued into Merewether. This proved to be a good move.

The sky was blue east of the beach and looked like it would eventually move inland with the cloud and any rain also receding away from the launch. I set-up the C4 sort of wishing I had a Fun or a Falcon to fly instead. The topless is great but these perfect conditions; SE wind with 15 knots feel like a play ground in the sportier intro gliders.

I got off and headed south and snuck into the three bowls at The Gun Club, the next cliff a kilometre down the beach. Each bowl steps up a little and gives a characteristic 'bump' when you transition to the next one. I worked each bowl, rode the three bumps and soon had enough height to make an attempt for Legie Point. Once around that headland I topped out and very slowly meandered back and forward in the lift, nose pointing out to the pacific, and, towards clouds!

Thermals? I wondered as I eyed benign looking cumulus that formed a few kilometres out over the ocean, upwind, growing ever so slowly as they drifted landward. How often good looking cumulus leave our expectations unfulfilled but as the line of diffuse cloud moved in my heart beat a little faster when the C4 gently eased up its nose a few degrees as we flew through the outer margins of a thermal. No instruments had me guessing 200'/minute maximum climb with averages about 100'/min. The core's margin through to its centre was an easy read as it leaned skyward through the uniform and smooth coastal seabreeze.

Big wide circles slowly lifted me higher. I could see well into Lake Macquarie 10 kilometres to the west. The handfull of gliders at Merewether looked much smaller now and further north the harbour of Newcastle revealed a ship getting manoeuvred inside the breakwalls by a few tugs. What looked best of all was the cloudstreet a little further inland and above by another 1500'. Continuing to climb at the same rate with the same drift would take me straight to the nearest solid cumulus, beyond which was a sky full of lift. I started looking at the cloud spread; cumulus everywhere inland as far as the eye could see, the Hunter Valley was lined-up with the drift, and cloudbase looked dark, moving in a way that said 'here's the lift, just a little higher and its yours!'

I drifted and climbed a little, moved around slightly to keep tabs on the thermal or to straighten up into the seabreeze when another stronger core fed into a cloud as it formed upwind. The climb strength was always dying at about the same altitude and I realised I would need just one climb with a little more 'oomph' than the average to link up to cloud and 'get away'.

As the potential became more of a real chance I started preparing, going through the options in the back of my mind. No pack-up gear, no instruments, no radio, no phone and no water. The latter was a concern not because of any danger but I learned a long time ago to fly for hours without it degrades the whole flight in everyway: in concentration, coordination, relaxation, even before you get thirsty mild dehyration takes the edge off your performance. I was aware I could do with a drink now. The two things I did have were money and a destiation. A quick calculation; 4 hours of flight time with 35-40 kph groundspeed would have me at Petes place at Denman. Pete is a top bloke and loves to tow us out of his huge farm from one of his numerous runways. I thought ahead and could see him walking out of his hangar with a couple of beers as I came in on finals. Doesn't hurt to dream.

Relaxing in the harness, the slight exertions, the subtle shifting about the centre of the basebar to guide the wing, monitoring the course of the glider, all this happening without thinking about it was about to be broken. That quiet trance we get from the mantra of turning flat, smooth and slow but slightly different circles had a time limit, ending soon. A line of blue sky appeared and was moving in giving about another ten minutes to climb to the clouds. After that the clouds were gone. Milking everything a little more and drifting just a little further seemed only to serve as a brake. My hit rate on the core seemed to drop off slightly. The grip was a little tighter. I remembered from many other flights like this one, 'do less and get more'. But getting more is not the point, relax and feel the air, then the flying is easy. What a mindset; to achieve the goal forget about chasing it. Chess with a difference! (and so much more...)

The blue line approached and the lift died out. My view of the lake disappeared as the altitude dropped. I hung around searching but realised the chance was gone. I made a b-line out over the ocean in front of leggie point and as the ridge lift faded I turned cross tail and into a shallow dive, out over the ocean heading for the slopes in front of Merewether. By the time I leveled out over the beach I was at 50' with the tips threatening to flutter. Matching the gradient of the hill I climbed, slowing down, and then gently banked into a shallow turn for the steeper cliffs off to the north.

Throughout the afternoon I kept an eye on the sky and watched the clouds continue to shrink to the west, further and further out of reach.

Someone better would have made it. And to see a hang glider circling over the back, linking up with a cloud street and heading inland and eventually out of sight would almost be as good as doing it in person.

Looking forward to next time.