SAFA Skysailor Magazine

20 SKY SAILOR January | February 2020 All too soon it was time to be heading home again, but on the way, we had a special treat. After two days driving, we reached Eucla. We camped by the Nullarbor sea cliffs and spent a night by moon- light listening to the wind howling and the waves crashing on the rocks below as lightning flashed in the distance and thunder rolled across the inland plains. The next morning, we awoke to a stable atmosphere with a smooth, steady 15kt breeze blowing straight in from the sea. We were a little apprehensive flying such a remote site, but Pete’s steady head and many years of coastal flying experience came to the fore. We spent an hour or more checking out the contours of the coastline and assessing the best take-off and landing options, walking them with streamers raised to observe the airflow before marking out our selected site and setting up windsocks. We fired up our spot finders and checked our radios. I could tell Pete was itching to fly his Litespeed RX, but his ankle was still dodgy and after helping me off would have no support for himself, so he opted for the Fun. Standing at launch, I went back again through the lesson Rohan had taught me at Flaxmans Hill the previous week. I held the pitch below the threshold of flight, standing with knees loose absorbing the little surges in wind speed and direction, feeling the air through my glider, letting it track and point into the wind. The glider was willing to fly, held down lightly only by pitch pressure. As Pete let go of the wires, I steadied, allowed tension to build on the hang strap, leant forward gently while easing out on the bar and let the glider fly. There was that amazing feeling again: The glider gently plucked me off the ground and smoothly climbed up and away, 1000ft above the cliffs below. Pete joined me and we had an incredible hour flying up and down the cliffs, enjoying the amazing views. Would I do another hang gliding road trip? If you added up the hours and kilometres we travelled and put it up against the number of hours we spent in the air, maybe it would not look so good. A friend of mine spent the same two weeks at work and got more hours airtime on his weekends flying the local coastal sites… On the other hand, it was beneficial to immerse ourselves in living and breathing the hang gliding life for a couple of weeks. It was a chance to focus, reflect, learn and consolidate new skills, meet new people and fly new sites. Yes, that was worth it, and I would do it again for sure. My poor old Sting did the whole trip sitting on the roof, but I just wasn’t ready yet… Next time. Since starting hang gliding in 1989 and with a couple of lengthy breaks for life, family and work, I am yet to accumulate 200 hours of flying time. With hindsight, I find it hard to believe I was prepared to carry such poor landing technique unchecked for so long. This was compounded by lack of regular flying and repetition to consolidate skills. Having turned a corner, I feel a bit silly now for all those years I struggled along with imperfect methods. I am very grateful for the support and advice I received on these matters from those with the knowledge, capacity and willingness to share it. Now a year has gone by since I had my accident. I can’t walk without limping yet, but I can fly. I returned to Pootenup again for the Albany Hang Gliding Club’s aerotow week in September. I flew my Sting and did 14 landings. All of them were safe, most were good, and a couple were excellent. I have learnt to fly with a light touch and have tuned in nicely to flare timing. It has made me feel like I am connected as part of the glider rather than being strapped in to steer it forcefully around the sky. I still have a way to go in developing my flare technique, but I now understand that when the Mt Beauty landing approach Pete at the Great Australian Bight Back to Basics