Paragliding in Turkey. Photo: Martin Scheel. www.azoom.com
British Champion Craig Morgan blogs from the Paragliding World Cup in Turkey
Task 2 69 km elapsed time to goal.
The task that never was …
Before I get on to that, just let me tell you about this –
What do you get if you mix a mad, pissed as a Parrott Professor with a semi sloshed Oxford graduate, a room full of PWC pilots, add a Russian bird with languidly long legs, suitably sized onions and a penchant for Vodka, tip in some Slavic chicks with a bottle of whiskey, a couple of loud German good-time boys plus a Belgian ‘artist’ with a camera – and what have you got? Well – it’s a PWC party, isn’t it – and last night was pumping !!!!
The poor Prof. He was adamant we wouldn’t be flying today after the storms of yesterday and proceeded to get leathered. Jeepers – I’ve never had so much intellectual bullshit thrown at me in one night. Tom ( Ox grad ) loved it ! Veritably frothing at each and every contentiously debatable issue. They can poke all that clever crap – I split quick to watch the ‘show’…
So ( hangovers notwithstanding ) off we trotted today to a new venue that had sponsored the PWC and wanted us to put on an airborne demonstration. Yassen was ejaculating away all morning about a 4,000m base !
I got excited as we weaved our way to the 2,000m summit up the dirt road. It looked awesome below. Hills, meadows and flatlands. Sweet.
But the epic possibilities soon started to unfurl as we checked out the launch – there was none! The best that it could be described as was a boulder strewn, thigh-high, gorsed patch of scrub. Bushes, shrubs and biting ants. Shite!
What’s that all about? Would you bring 120 of the world’s best pilots some 1,500 miles out to Turkey to fly a new destination and not even check out the freekin launch site beforehand. Well – would you ? What about if you had the day off prior to the task day in question to do it? Adjectives fail me ….. The Prophet’s words ring in my ear yet again – Turkish bravado…
Let’s move on. A few of us got down and dirty to thrash, clear, yank out and stomp the take-off into something vaguely feasible. It’s funny how many pilots stand back and watch when there’s a lorry full of wings to unload or a launch to prepare. But the nations generally fall into their stereotypical work ethic reputations.
It wasn’t great but 40 of us got off. I found it punchy. Couple of times the risers snapped taught. Hard thermals with unforgiving entry and exit sheers. Plenty of ‘management’ on the B toggles. The launch looked inactive from high above but plenty of us lurked around waiting for the earliest start gate. Eventually we got to base at 3,900m. It was chilly waiting round for 45mins at that altitude and still not many were getting off below.
I thought we had stolen a march and got lucky with the conditions. At 14.30 we commenced with one or two tucking back into the start cylinder for a later start time. The flying was fantastic. Long glides and only two thermals needed plus long lines of convergence. It’s incredible how solid the R11 is on bar in 3-up convergence at 70kmh!!
We raced into goal in 1hr and 9 minutes – for 55km flown (subtracting several larger turn point cylinders). I haven’t worked it out but it’s gotta be 46 odd km/h average. That’s quick. Luc Armand blazed in first then me then Wattsie. Whooo-eeee. That’s a tasty result.
Then, as I put her down the lads broke me the news. Task cancelled!! And I gently wept, again, into my speed sleeves!
The launch had become strong crosswind and dangerous so they pulled the pin. And rightly so. It had been announced on radio several times but our gaggle had not heard it in the mind-set of competition. “Nil Poin”
There’s not much you can do when you get sold a dummy. The flying was wonderful – the race was real, for us, and tomorrow hopefully we get to do it all again.
And tonight – VODKA please !!!!!!
Craig
Ps – just before I hit the send button, I hear Stephan Morganthaler has just landed. Seven hours in the air, reached a height of 4,700 metres. Nice.
