Coddiwompling — Travelling in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination
Paragliding isn’t just about soaring through the skies; it’s about camaraderie, challenges, and the unexpected twists each day brings. This tale is from one such day in South East Queensland, where we’ve been ambitiously trying to connect all the flying sites for years under the Coddiwomple Challenge. Each of these connections is fondly termed a ‘womple’.
Ever since Ian McFarlane’s amazing flight from Ma Ma to Beechmont, I’ve been itching to attempt the Beechmont to Ma Ma womple. The forecast for Sunday was promising, so I loaded waypoints into the FlySkyHy app and set off for Beechy.
The nostalgia of flying at Beechy hit me hard, especially after being grounded for a season. The emergency landing area is still “lava” since the landing field issue is still being sorted out. Bombing out wasn’t an option.
After waiting for the wind to drop below 10 knots, Allan and I launched and soared the familiar site enjoying views of Mt Warning with clouds coming up the Namibah valley. It was about 40 minutes before a proper thermal came through. A ripper peaking at 6m/s. It was on! “We’re on XC boy!”
The fresh wind meant that I was covering decent ground even when thermalling. Soon I was above Hinchies watching others launching below. Allan landed at Beaudesert and soon I saw Buzz thermalling below a dark cloud.
The area around Wyaralong dam is quite heavily wooded and while there are a few landing options it doesn’t seem like a nice place to land. So I flew along the hills to the east of the dam hoping to get to base before committing to the crossing. Buzz took a direct line over the dam and I soon saw him gaining height while I was in heavy sink. He’d picked a better line!
In the bubbly air I could sense a climb was nearby but couldn’t locate it. And just when my flight seemed on the brink of ending, a pair of inquisitive eagles appeared and started turning with me, flapping occasionally. They were supposed to FIND the lift for me, not join me in sink!
After turning with me for a while they left and pointed out a climb nearby. Whew! The flight was back on again and I soon found myself trying hard to stay below the Brisbane CTA airspace. Buzz announced he was heading to Boonah to land because his instruments had run out of power.
Above the flatlands through which the Cunningham Hwy passes, cloud streets were setting up. All pointing in the direction of Ma Ma! I had never flown in this direction and this uncharted territory beckoned, revealing hidden landscapes, much like a video game that reveals previously darkened areas.
I was now 80km into the flight and I hadn’t been successful in reaching base on the last climb. The wind was pushing me towards a range covered with trees. I was not high enough to see all the way to the other side so it was difficult to decide where to cross. Above me was just a wisp of a cloud producing sporadic weak lift. Ma Ma was still 37km away. Between us was this big tree crossing. And on the other side of the crossing, a juicy cloud street leading to Ma Ma.
I needed a climb badly but I was slowly losing altitude. Hills usually produce lift but crossing from my altitude was a gamble that I wasn’t willing to make. I was positioned at the start of the range, sure of finding lift because of the wind blowing up it. But all there was were fizzy bubbles. Behind me I could see showers along the path I’d taken, pushed along by the sea breeze.
Recently I’ve decided that it’s better to hang around in a spot where I know there should be lift and wait for the next cycle than to just drift downwind hoping for something else to trigger. Drifting downwind to the next trigger works when you have altitude but waiting is usually better in survival mode. But being patient and waiting is so hard! I felt like I needed to DO something. Anything. Instead of slowly losing altitude all the way to the ground. The showers behind me were getting closer.
Just then a familiar voice cheered up on Zello “Hey Ham I’ve been tracking you on Squiggly! You can do this!” GStar! I explained the situation and how I didn’t know if I could get high enough to get across the tree crossing. “I’m a 100% confident you will”. Nothing like encouragement from a good friend to fire you up! My depleting patience and confidence were restored and as if by magic, I started climbing without a cloud above! Hallelujah!
Soon I had enough height to make the crossing and another climb soon after. If I’d gambled and gone for it earlier I would’ve made it but this is not a sport where you want to roll the dice.
25km away and I could just barely start seeing Ma Ma. I was struck by how small the small bowl is from which we fly. With clouds nicely set up along my way, I had just one job. Don’t fuck it up! Thanks to numerous cautionary tales from YouTube, I knew better than to celebrate prematurely.
The glide to Ma Ma from here was buoyant and I could relax. Ma Ma was in the bag. Messages from friends started popping up on the phone and I started wondering about how I’d get back. I arrived above Ma Ma with so much height that I started considering continuing on towards Wilson’s near Toowoomba. But after always flying with my camping gear for years, I’d recently stopped carrying it. Damn Murphy!
After a victory soar over Ma Ma and making sure the straight line distance was 1km over Vil’s the previous day, I turned into headwind towards Gatton. Landing next to the road, the next phase of the XC adventure started and I began considering my retrieve options.
My hopes of getting a hitch were sinking with the setting sun but just when I started thinking about walking to Gatton, a van drove past and the brake lights came on! It’s always the tourists that stop! This time it was a friendly Argentinian couple that are on a working holiday in Australia and they kindly gave me a ride to Gatton.
It was after sunset, Buzz had driven my car to Canungra (thanks Buzz!) but that was still 130km away. Phil Hystek offered to retrieve me (thanks Phil!). A very generous offer but it was a big ask and I wanted to exhaust all other options first. The plan was to take a bus from Gatton to Rosewood, a train from there to Ipswich, then another one to Brisbane and one last one to Sandate. Walk home and then get my son to drive me down to Canungra the next day to pick up the car. Whew!
A minute before the bus arrived, I got a message from Peter. A group of hang glider pilots were driving back from Dalby and would pass through Gatton on their way to Canungra. Where Buzz had dropped off my car. WOW! The XC gods were definitely smiling down on me!
Being a part of the paragliding community is rewarding in more ways than one. While the thrill of the flight is unparalleled, the journey back has its own adventures, introducing me to many good-hearted souls. Because of selection bias, the only people that stop are the kind hearted, generous ones… and serial killers. Thankfully I’ve never run into one of those yet. The chances of two of us being in the same car are slim (thanks for the joke, Daron) Embracing the unpredictability, meeting strangers, and navigating the unexpected — this is what makes each XC an unforgettable adventure.
