He’s done it!! Scott maintained his lead to win the pre-worlds flying his Airborne C4. Congratulations from all of us and I can’t wait to have a chat to him when he returns from his successful adventure.
Results and further interviews can be seen from the pre-worlds site:
The organizers of the Pre-Worlds are maintaining a great little blog of competition with many great interviews and photos.
Among the interviews is Scott releasing a few more pearls of wisdom:-
Just been going back through some old emails and I came across this… Damn it has been a fun ride getting a foot into this sport.
Saturday
Karl, Dan and I headed out the lake intending to get some ridge soaring in. Winds were a bit light for that sort of action – none of the 20 or so visiting punters were getting up so I didn’t think that we had much of a chance. I was keen to try out the Blitz that Scotty had so graciously given me but decided that I would have enough problems trying to stay up in the Sonic this would not be a great time to complicate the issue by stepping off in new glider.
As expected that was a short sleddy. Time to try something different.
We headed to the north launch. At least our sled ride would be a little longer from there. After setting up, the wind had still not picked up much. The butterflies had set in to my stomach. This was the first time I had flown in anything other than my Sonic (other than one of Tove’s funs). How would it handle? I had no idea what to expect. My plan was just to run like hell to get the thing off the ground and flare like hell to make the thing stop. Anything I learnt in between would just be a plus. Dan launched first but had a bit of bad luck and ended up heading straight down to the bombout.
My turn. Hang checked and ready to go. The lack of wind up the face was doing nothing for the nerves. I waited for a while hoping the wind would pick up. No luck. Great, a nil winder in an unfamiliar glider.
Off I ran. It took a little longer to get off the ground than what I’m used to but it was a lot less stressful than I had expected. Landing gear up. Immediately you notice the glide ratio. I was moving much quicker than in the sonic and was sinking much slower. For an old glider it felt great.
Ok let’s try turning this thing. I had been told many times that I would have to get used to a new method of weight shifting due to the slow response time of these more advanced gliders. Weight shift, return to the centre and wait for it to respond I had been told, so that’s what I did. It was a little strange as I made my first turn but nothing unexpected.
Then beep. Cool. Beep beep. I knew that sound. Playing on the side of caution I started with a few figure eights careful not to get too close to terrain. A few passes and I was above the ridge. Time to hook in. Thremaling felt pretty much the same as what I was used to but it took a bit more effort to stay in the core. By this time the punters were streaming off the hill. Some going up, some going down.
A punter with a white wing and a red leading edge soon found my thermal. We took that up to 1500’ above launch. I took this opportunity to try a few things in the new glider. First I tried pushing out a bit more to increase climb rate. I do tend to push out a fair bit in the Sonic to milk a thermal for all that its worth – you hardly notice when it stalls anyway. I knew that this would be different in the Blitz but with this much height I didn’t really care. Edging the bar out while in the thermal was fine but as you venture to the edge of the thermal the wing in sink tends to fall out of the sky. It recovers itself ok but you lose a bit of height in the process.
Karl was off. He was in another thermal off to the left of launch. I wanted to join him so off I set. Let’s try out this vg thing. I pulled on the rope – bugger. It was stuck. I hadn’t checked it in my preflight as I didn’t think there would be much of a need for it in the sled ride I was expecting. Oh well, I was still moving a lot quicker than I was used to and maintaining more height in the process. We circled around for a bit then ventured off on various sorties but encountered nothing in any direction.
By this time I was fairly used to flying the Blitz. Time to think about landing. I picked out a big area in the bomb out paddock to allow for the extra distance I would travel in ground effect. Setting for the landing was like normal just a bit quicker. A nice quick final and down into ground effect. I have watched you good guys do this a hundred times and it felt exactly like I had expected. The Sonic gives you a touch of ground effect but nothing like this. The Blitz seems to give some fairly good feedback as to when it wanted to be flared. Once again I heeded the advice of those who have been there before – When you flare commit to it. With one big push up and out it stopped, a couple of steps and the ride was over. That seemed even easier than the Sonic but I think it was only beginner’s luck. I’m sure I’ve jinxed myself for next time.
This was a very enjoyable first flight in the Blitz I can’t wait to head out again.
I was really looking forward to Stanwell the next day… 3 times I have been to Stanwell. 3 times it has been too weak/too north/too south. Would tomorrow be any different?
Sunday
It was Michael’s plan to set off early. 5:30am was the call. What the!
To my surprise, Karl turned up on my door step with Michael. On with the gliders and off we set. After a brecky stop on the way up we arrived on the hill at 8:30am. It was ON! A nice call with the early start Michael. The wind was light though, so the Blitz would be staying in the bag.
Karl and I stuffed batons and launched at around 9am. There was a fair bit of south in it but still easy to stay up. There was no traffic in the air at that time of the day - just one para, Karl and I. Michael launched shortly after in his punter. Together we flew back South over the town and railway line. The scenery is beautiful from up here.
A train passes beneath, the fumes drift up and meet us together with a rush of rising air. A few quick circles get us above the ridge and the houses perched on top of the cliff. What a place to live.
Throughout this flight though there was one unsettling thought I was unable to shake from my mind… As an inland pilot mainly flying flatlands (or close to it) I like to have options. The whole time I’m flying I’m thinking – ‘If all else fails I can land there’. This is not the case around here in my floater. I have virtually no ridge soaring experience other than Lake George where the suggestion of looking for landing options is laughable. I am uncomfortable with this feeling but everyone else is getting away with it so I’ll draw some comfort from that.
Karl and I get itchy feet and attempt to push south onto the next ridge down. No luck. All we can find is rotor off the hill out in front and we are soon making our way back around to the chute. Karl lands first. I come in over the top of him take a few steps and drop the nose into the sand. Damn.
Michael, laughing at our feeble attempt to push south, top lands and drives down to pick us up.
Back to the top we head. By this time all the local pilots were up there along with the tandems and punters galore. This was more what I expected of Stanwell. That said no one was too keen to head off as the wind was still pretty light.
Nick and Matt had a couple of great flights around while most of the others headed to the bomb out to end their elongated sled rides.
Eventually we work up the courage to leap off. Though the wind was still light it was now straight up the face. North was the order of the afternoon we gained height on the cliffs off to the left and on to the clearings where the remote control gliders and zagis were zooming about. This was pretty cool. Another strange thing though is how blasé the locals are to the gliders swooping down beside them. At the lake everyone beeps there horn and waves to you if you’re low enough for them to see you. Sydney siders though, won’t cast an eye upward even after passing your shadow over their head. That said the crowds on bald hill are pretty cool.
So we continue North and I get my first view of Hell Hole. Interesting. I’m just going to boat around here for a while before I build up the courage to take this one on. Eventually Michael leads the way around the bowl without losing any height. He made that look easy so I follow. I didn’t lose any height but certainly didn’t gain any either as I make my way around.
As I get to the northern side of Hell Hole I encounter some wicked rotor from the outcrop in front of me. I lost a lot of height as I pulled in the bar attempting to get in front of the ridge. I rounded the corner and realised that I had a problem. I was low. The guys who knew what they were doing were high on the ridge 300’ above me. To say that landing options were sparse was an understatement. There was one beach within glide. A noticeable feature of this rather tranquil landing option was that it was totally void of anything that resembled a road. With this in mind I was keen to get back up but the vario was silent. I knew I had to get in close to the trees to get into strongest part of the lift. I tried to get as close as I could but I just wasn’t game to get as close as I needed to. Still dropping I had to try something else so I headed out to the headland hoping to get something, anything off the cliffs. Still nothing. Damn I have a lot to learn about this coastal stuff.
Time to plan my landing on the beach. It was a reasonably large LZ though I would be coming in crosswind. I spotted a family at the far end of the beach so I aim to land somewhere near them. Ever mindful of the walk ahead I find some comfort in the fact the there was a couple of 5 year old kids out with their mum celebrating mothers day – If they could manage to walk down onto the beach surely I could make the walk back out.
So I setup to land South to North (god knows why, there had been more South in it all day). I attempted to turn into the wind just a fraction while in ground effect but I still managed to drop the nose as the tail wind was still a bit too strong. Bugger. I walked my glider over beside the family I had spotted from the air.
I started by asking them “I have a problem don’t I”. During the conversation that followed enlighten that I had a 2.5km walk back to the top of the ridge. Not great news but it could have been worse. Karl, by this time, had landed back at Stanwell and was on the phone. I gave him rundown on my situation and instructed them to have a beer and some lunch and that I would give them a call when I reached the car park. After being on the other end of a couple of these sort of long retrieves I was keen to dig myself out of this one.
Now packed up, off I set. The path was bloody steep – this was going to take a while. An hour later I was about a kilometre and a half into my journey. I was hot and buggered. My camel back had been sucked dry while I was still back on the beach. I soldier on a bit further when a guy, taking his 74 year old mother on their annual mother’s day trip down the beach I now know as being Burning Palms offers to give me a hand. This guy was a legend. He grabbed the back of my glider and we storm up the hill. I gave the guys a call when we’re 500m from the car park.
We reach the top right as Michael and Karl pull in. Nice timing. After telling some of the local guys where I had landed they had expected the worst and were ready of a lengthy walk. The relief was clear on their faces.
The trip home gave me plenty of time to reflect on my mistakes and just how different this coastal flying was to what I am used to. I can’t wait to have another go.
Thanks Michael for chauffeuring us up and back. Also big thanks again to Scott Hannaford for the Blitz, I can’t wait to try it out again.
Learning to tow a couple of years under the instruction of Scott Barrett at the annual Easter Flying at Tumut.
A little test of the ACTHPA Oregon Scientific camera. Edited in half an hour (and it looks like it)
From Will’s blog:-
Performance:
I’ve been thinking a lot about what performance means, and come to the conclusion that a “good performance” in most outdoor sports means two things: First, a feeling you are doing the sport well for you. To put it another way, the act of doing the sport feels relatively inhibition free. You just do it. When you start and finish a section or an entire route and then suddenly remember that there’s something else in life than what you’re doing at the moment. This is internal. Second, there’s the external measuring stick of time, grades, distance, what I call the “numeric” side of performance. When these two things are both “successful” then you’re operating at a high performance level for you. If you do your local run in the evening and it feels really smooth and like you haven’t had to try that hard but your time is two minutes faster then you’ve nailed it. If you go for a run and fight for every hill and your time is two minutes slower then you’ve had a low-performance day.
The final part of performance for me is then measuring my “numeric” performance with others. This is where it gets weird. If you’re climbing 5.10 and then hike a 5.11 that’s been giving you grief then you’re a rock star in your own athletic world, and you’ve had a great performance. Drink a beer! But compared to Sonnie Trotter, well, you suck. Or do you? I suspect that if Sonnie were to have a battle on a 13a he would feel like he hadn’t performed that well (or he’d laugh about it then send a 14a, he’s Sonnie). Or maybe if a climber of Sonnie’s caliber battled on an “easy” 14a redpoint he would be performing at a level that was incredibly high for most of the world, but might not be satisfying from a sheer performance perspective for him. But if he sends the hardest crack in the world his feelings about his performance might not be all that different from buddy who sent the 11a… There have been a few times where I’ve done something at the edge of the numeric envelope at the time. I had to try really hard, but when I did it I felt like it wasn’t so hard. I had a good performance.
I think that we all mostly know when we’ve had a great performance, and when we haven’t. I saw a great performance in Ouray when Will Mayo dropped one tool in the comp and then kept climbing for move after move. The crowd knew that it was a great performance. Same with Rich Marshall (I think Rich performed about the best of anyone in the comp–he doesn’t have the power of the Euros, but he was performing very well). We’ve all been in the gym when some young kid or old punter does something that’s clearly very cool–you can feel the psyche of a great performance, even if it’s a V4 used as an easy warm up by the bad-asses.
It’s something to think about–I often hear climbers (including me) bitch themselves out when they can’t do a “lowly plastic V4! Damn, I suck!” No, they don’t have the skills, or they aren’t performing well at all. The more useful mental trick is to think, “Yep, my performance sucked. Why?” I’ve also seen climbers have magnificent performances and then deride the fact it took them so long or whatever. This strikes me as self-defeating and just wrong. They are letting an exterior numeric system define their performance, instead of looking at their own performance honestly. I think that, for me, the goal is to perform the best I can at whatever I’m doing. On good days when I’m well-trained that may be pretty high against the sport’s numeric standards. But I actually performed pretty well in Cougar Creek by redpointing an m8 I’d onsighted easily… I’m not arguing for accepting lower standards, but for a realism in accepting and analyzing personal performance. If you’re a world-class athlete like Sonnie, then focusing on your best personal performance may mean a new numeric standard. If you’re a 5.9 climber who sends a multi-pitch 5.10 with no falls then that’s every bit as cool as Sonnie’s efforts, right on. If you’re a 5.9 climber who falls off a 5.8 ’cause you forgot to look at your feet then your performance sucked… Bottom line, if you want to get better or something then you’ve got to set higher performance standards and go after them. But I feel like I need to focus on the quality of my performance first, and the improvements will come as I get better at performing… There’s the psychological idea of “dissonance,” where your view of how the world should be doesn’t meet what you’re actually experiencing. If you really analyze and honestly figure out where your own performance is and was then there’s less dissonance, and perhaps more chance to actually perform well in the long run. No one has a “right” to perform at a certain level, we get to a high level by developing our performances incrementally and with honest introspection. Starting to write like a new-age wanker so enough of that, we all need to shut up and perform. And recognize when we do, and do more of whatever led to that performance state…
WG
PS–and sorry to use Sonnie as an example, for some reason he just came into my mind as I writing this. I like his attitude, he is almost always psyched on climbing, both his and others. Hope you’re performing well and having fun Sonnie!
What we do is pretty special. We leap off a hill and enter a whole other world of possibilities. We share the sky with the birds, and find ourselves making decisions based on knowledge totally foreign to a majority of the human race.
These are incredible rewards for the few of us that develop the skills required to safely accomplish such feats. However many new students, after completing their initial licence course, leave the sport early on due to an inability to achieve what they consider “a worth while day out”. The early days in any hang gliders carer are full of heading out to hills and not flying or sled rides. You get used to sitting in the bombout while your new found friends climb out above you.
It is easy to be discouraged during this period but you must appreciate that we have all been there. Those days will end and one day you will be the one talking the next new guy through these challenging early days.
Local pilot, Andrew Luton, fills us in on his experiences as he stabs though this sometime difficult period:
I have always dreamed of going paragliding or hang gliding and have spent many years on the ridge at
Have a car that carries a few gliders easily with a strong quick and easy carrying system. (My car has a ladder. It carries one glider and is a pain in the arse. No one wants to mount a rack on the front of it due to airbag issues and it does not have enough clearance underneath to get up all launch sites. I am currently looking at getting a new car!)
Get to know the local pilots as soon as you can. Get their mobile numbers so you can bug them to come and fly. I am finding that a call to say you are planning on going out will usually entice someone to follow!
Have a flexible job. This one is not so important but still a good thing if you have it (“coughs”
Be like
Listen to any advice you are given and improve on your ability and experiences.
Most importantly. Have a flexible missus. (Not in the physical sense, but this can also be a positive, hehe).
Michael Imolz and Allistair Dickie have been hard at work to knock up this rather clever little web page. A picture tells a thousand words - so click on either of the images below and you will wet yourself I promise. (Offer only available to sea breeze chasers and the like)
The On-o-meter is currently geared towards paragliders but I’m sure a HG version is on it’s way hey Al!
Nice work gents.