Flying into the land of Giants — Girraween
There I was… only a couple of hundred meters above ground in sink. I’d flown over a couple of hills hoping for them to trigger a thermal but nothing. Too late, I spotted another small hill and approached it from the side. My wing jerked violently as it hit the thermal. I turned hard to hook into the core. This low, I didn’t expect a smooth climb but I also wasn’t expecting a turbulent mess of thermic bullets in a washing machine. I was on the downwind side of the thermal and paying for being there. One moment the thermal was jerking the wing up, the next the wing was almost deflating in sinking air.
Feet braced against the footplate, my abs were aching from trying to keep the jostling harness stable. The vario seemed to be having a hard time deciding what tone to play.
Behind the hill there were some clearings where I could land but landing in the lee in these conditions was less than ideal. I was 95km from launch and a sunny patch of sun and the promise of a Krakening had lured me into these hills away from the main road. One climb is all I needed to score a 100km Krakening.
High on the upwind side of the climb I saw a wedgie soaring, looking down at me probably wondering what I was doing on the shitty side of the hill.
Suddenly the wing collapsed! The outside tip was tucked into the lines. Keeping my weight shift on the inside I plucked the tip out, staying in the turn. Suddenly I was in survival mode. I couldn’t land here. I HAD to climb out. It was the safest thing to do.
Desperately turning to stay within the thermal, I wondered if I had enough height to throw the reserve. Would it open in time? At least there were trees below. A Neurchi wouldn’t be the worst outcome.
I slowly drifted behind the hill with the thermal doing my best impersonation of a crazy monkey pulling strings. As I slowly gained precious meters, the wing became less erratic and the vario started sounding more sane. With a couple of hundred meters of safety below me, I aimed for the treeline at the edge of a forest and found a good climb. Relieved, I said a silent thanks to the Scala 2 for holding together in that nasty low save and took a deep breath that I’d been half holding. I was going to base!
Allowing myself the luxury of sloppy thermalling, I relaxed waiting for the adrenaline to dissipate. Looking down at the instruments I saw my altitude approaching flight level Krakening! Distance from launch ticked over to 100km almost simultaneously. A simultaneous double krakening for the hardest won 100km I’ve ever had.
I had launched near Toowoomba and was now gliding above Stanthorpe! The day had been great so far. Others had complained about it being really rough down low but I’d managed to stay hight most of the day. It was one of those days where I was in sync with the thermals. I’d leave a climb and find a new cloud building ahead.
The flight had been unexpectedly fast and my way points ended at Stanthorpe. I had never flown here before and had only taken a cursory glance at the area map. Earlier Carol had messaged encouraging me to continue flying past Stanthorpe to Tenterfield. I had no idea where that was. All I could see ahead were mountains and trees in the haze. Now at a safe height I started reviewing the map of the area.
But Teterfield was another 60km away! Too far and a huge swathe of dense tiger country lay between us. I decided to stay along my course heading south-west past Stanthorpe trying to match ground features to locations on the map. I always find it amusing how a place with half a dozen houses has a town name and a pub in Australia.
Looking to my left towards the forest I could see some striking rock formations and huge slabs of exposed rock. “To your left is Girraween National Park. You don’t want to land there. It’s a very long walk out” I heard Andy on the radio.
Andy and Chris had landed earlier, been picked up by Carl and were now chasing me. I’d been feeling guilty for making them follow me so far and was starting to think about landing somewhere convenient. It would be nice to thaw my hands which were frozen from flying so high for so long in summer gloves. But Andy’s voice on the radio didn’t have a hint of annoyance and the sky still looked great. The Tenterfield bug Carol had planted in my head kept rearing its head…maybe it was possible to fly there.
As if reading my mind, Dave messaged: Send it to the end!
There’s nothing quite like the boost of confidence and motivation you get from messages from friends when you’re alone, bouncing along in the big sky. It was 4pm and I was high. Anything seemed possible. So I turned south east towards Tenterfield, gliding over Girraween National Park. Below me I could see huge round boulders precariously balanced on sloping slabs as if a giant had deliberately placed them there. I’d only seen photos of them from the ground earlier and it was a spectacular sight from the sky.
A smooth, buoyant 17km glide across the entire park took me across state lines from QLD into Wallangarra, NSW. Here a final climb gave me enough boost to glide another 15km to a landing at a cricket pitch in the middle of Tenterfield. I thoroughly enjoyed these amazingly smooth glides in the evening sky, a reward for the rough conditions earlier in the day.
My heartfelt gratitude to my friends who were waiting for me in Tenterfield and especially Carl who gave up a chance to re-fly earlier in the day to give others an opportunity for another flight. Without the confidence of knowing that you’ll be able to get home, flying long cross countries into unfamiliar places would be very difficult
