In a blaze of determination brought about by lack of flying we managed to fit the following activities into a couple of hours on Tuesday evening:
- Jump in the glider for a take off on 24 - wind at 90 degrees to take-off.
- Receive instruction to change runway to 06 from the tower.
- Strap most of the launch point to the buggy and race across the field before the tug lands.
- Sneak in some more flights vaguely in the direction of 06 - wind still at 90 degrees to take off.
- The evening tuggy, then rushed from cockpit to lectern to deliver a fascinating talk on mountain flying.
"Fly over the first electrical wire, but under the second. With 18m wings, sideslip a lot to fit between the trees, then land on the first rock at no more than 60 knots, so that you only have a glancing blow on the second boulder at 45 knots... and do not land long: The lake at the end has piranhas with a taste for dehydrated glider pilots. Successful landings usually require retrieval by helicopter. Ratio of successful to unsuccessful lands so far is... "
I exaggerate for effect of course...
Then we dreamed of having the skill and nerve to soar amongst the magnificent peaks - whilst making "friends" with the chef at the pub, by ordering eight meals two minutes before his home time.
Talk about squeezing a lot into a short amount of time.