An Epic Flight Blackheath – Sunday, Nov. 13, 2005

I don't know where to start, so I'll start from the beginning.

I got home from work at about 8:33am. The day was looking pretty good early. I ended up chatting away with Naomi till about 11:07am. I slept till 1:03pm. That is as precise as this day gets, now I don't look at the time again until after 9:30pm when I got home.

I got to the hill at Blackheath and the cues were looking pretty good, so I thought "I'll just boat around for an hour or so go home and cook that roast lamb I said I'd cook. After all I'll just be gone for only two hours and I would have just been sleeping anyway. Naomi will hardly notice me gone."

Quite a few hang- and para-gliders were there for the day, I don't know the exact numbers. I was busy stuffing battens and having the odd chat till I became focused again. About half way through the set-up a couple of para's launched and bombed out. About three quarters of the way through set-up another couple of para's launched and stayed up.

Fully set up chucking my harness in, and about five paragliders about 500 feet above, Derek started to clip in mentioning something about "It looks like the easterly is about to come in." I clipped in and started the walk down to the ramp. Stefan gave Derek and me a hang check and clipped in himself.

There was little wind on launch so we waited for a cycle. The bushes started to rustle so I wished Derek a good flight and said I would meet him at cloud base. (As if! I had not been to cloud base for far too long to think I would do it today. The last time I had been to cloud base for hang gliding was standing on the highway at Blackheath for the second day of the inter club comp.)

After concentrating and keying himself in Derek launched and got in amongst the five paras already airborne. The next good cycle came up so I picked up my glider and started to run (I thought to myself "I really should concentrate on my launch a bit better than this.") and I was off.

I started going up as I headed north along the ridge. Then I lost it. I headed northwest along the spine as I often find lift off the tree line and I felt a few little bubbles so I scratched around thinking, "Gee I'm glad I left my flight suit in the car. I'd really be sweating if it wasn't for this t-shirt." I was turning quite sharply and I had noticed Derek had skyed out. All the paragliders were still about 500 feet above launch.

Then I came across some large lift. I went with it to a point above launch then just went straight up. I looked down and thought, "They're all a bit low!" but then I checked my vario and it was reading 7500 feet and realized I was just so high.

I looked up. The clouds didn't look vicious so I kept going. There goes Stefan off launch and Derek isn't far below me. I got up to 8000 feet and a bit of the wispy stuff dipped below the eastern horizon. So I radioed the ground letting them know that cloud base was around 8000 feet and asked how everyone on the ground was enjoying the flies (Australian summers produce swarms of flies—ed) hoping to entice people off the hill. I didn't know that the wind on launch had turned east and everyone on the ground was stranded there. I got to about 8300 above launch so I figured I might have enough height to reach Victoria Pass.

As I was on my way over I actually went up to 8500—convergence is a wonderful thing! I was mucking around at Mount York, then Derek turned up about there we discussed where we were going. I thought we could head over to Bathurst and maybe drop in to visit Sandy for a flying visit. I then heard over the radio that Stefan was at Mt Victoria as we headed off to the next ridge.

About then Rosie raised a good point: how did we think we were going to get picked up?

Well I hadn't thought of that minor detail. After all my previous best from Blackheath had been to Little Hartley. So Jim, Rosie and Stefan's partner Saska (or something like—that sorry if I got that wrong. She is a lovely girl from Slovakia [not Slovenia] which is separated by Hungary, and I have looked at the globe now and seen my error) were chasing us.

We were over the next ridge now and someone asked if we were over Hassan's Walls . I looked down and all I could see were rocks with trees on them so I answered, "I think so." I must admit I think I was over everything including the moon, I still am, writing this at 1.00 am Tuesday morning.

The lift was still good. The three of us were together and I was starting to climb up the western edge of the cloud going to 9500. I was also starting to feel cold; maybe the t-shirt wasn't such a good idea, and I was kind of longing for my flight suit which was in my car. It also highlighted to me the need for a new harness as the zippers in my harness have a tendency to split open at an unpleasant place making my small bits even smaller!

By then the three of us were over Lithgow and Derek mentioned something about going to Lithgow Hospital. I was stoked with the idea—I was actually shaking in my harness by then. We got more lift and headed over for the turn off to Mudgee.

We got more lift there and I went from a nice warm 6500 back up to 8000. "Brrr!"

Stefan called over the radio to ask whether we should go to Bathurst or head to Mudgee. I mentioned that we had thought of going to Mount Ovens at Bathurst but if they thought conditions better suited Mudgee we'd go there. At this time my words weren't coming out too well so I started doing times tables in my head to keep an eye on hyperthermia. (One of the early symptoms of hypothermia is the loss of your ability to reason. That can be followed by gradual loss of awareness. It's very dangerous for swimmers and hang glider pilots so one of the safeguards is to do mental arithmetic. If you can't get the answers you head for the nearest landing paddock—ed.)

At 8000 feet Stefan called out, "Mudgee." I looked out at forty five degrees to try and find the turn off to Mudgee and it turned out to be right below us. Eight grand was cold enough for me so off I went, with Stefan and Derek 1000 feet above me.

I must say the views out there are amazing. Along the way I flew directly over the single stacked power station and I can still feel my hands now. I thought about flying to the second power station but there looked to not be too many landing areas between the two so I tried a hill that looked like it might work with some exposed rocks. (He was looking for a thermal of warm air off the rocks in order to gain more height—ed.) I got a few little bubbles off them but unfortunately I was unable to get back up. Luckily for Stefan, being about 400 feet above me, he hooked in and got away again. I'm not quite sure where Derek was but he flew over the top at some stage.

I was still a good height above my chosen landing paddock and there were power lines everywhere. I thought being that close to a power station the houses could just run on radiated electricity!

Thanks to a lady who has a goat farm—she has a long, slightly sloping paddock. I came into land and realized my legs were dead. I'm sure they didn't move on their own I recon the excess electricity from the power station and mind bending ESP control I read in a sci-fi novel once made my legs rotate.

I packed up, chatted to the land owner, and waited next to the town sign (Blackman Flat) until I was glad to hear Jims voice talking to Derek over the radio. My first cross country pick-up in years. Thanks Jim and Rosie and Stefan for the car.

We loaded up and headed off. We headed off to Mudgee with bits an pieces of information from both pilots who were still airborne—helpful things like "children's play area", "a big hill", "lots of trees", "I don't know where I am". I felt lucky I had landed near a town sign.

We also passed Moyes going the other way with a car load of gliders. (Bill and Steve Moyes are icons in world hang gliding. They own and operate the Moyes Hang Glider factory in Sydney.—ed)

Stefan was next down; he landed on a big hill which Rosie knew was Cherry Tree Hill also the turn off to go to Sofala. We found Stefan quite easily. He had picked what looked to be smooth, rounded up-hill landing site.

As he found out Cherry Tree Hill is rounded but by no means smooth; it is covered in huge rocks, deep ruts, tall bushes—and thistles. Well a broken upright is not bad considering the conditions.

And what a flight! In the words of Stefan it was "Simply unbelievable." And that about sums up the whole day. After loading Stefan's stuff, we set off to find Derek. He had landed by then so we headed off to Mudgee again.

Going down the northern side of Cherry Tree Hill Jim mentioned something about needing fuel soon but Stefan assured him that you could drive a hundred kilometres with the red light on, and the red light hadn't come on yet.

After about five kilometres down the road when we couldn't find Derek at all, we were a little concerned, so we turned around and headed back south. We made contact with Derek and found him a couple of kilometres short from where Stefan had landed. All three of us were stoked.

After loading everything up we set off to the Ivanhoe (hotel) to brag. Well we were on our way, how good is this? We passed a petrol station and Jim offered to pull in but Stefan said, "Go to Lithgow!" So on we went.

Well we made it to Cullen Bullen anyway—that was about where the fuel ran out. It was Jim's fault for not seeing the red light sooner or driving more efficiently, it was Derek's fault for us driving five kilometres past Cherry Tree Hill, it was my fault for being there—and there are heaps more reasons for us running out of fuel. I reckon it's because we flew so far. Anyway thanks to Gregor who was having a good time at home; he came to our rescue with a jerry can and diesel. While Gregor was on his way I dropped up to the pub and picked up some beer and chips.

We were on our way home again. I think everyonewais trying to help my glide because I got the seat in the back while every one enjoyed the chips in the cab. Thanks for that. We got back to the Ivanhoe at about 9:00pm and everyone had left—there is no staying power in some people. Stefan gave me a lift back to launch to pick up my car. I got back home by 9:30 and Naomi said she didn't want me to start cooking the roast. What a Day!!!

Thank you to everyone involved, including Stefan and Derek for showing me the way. A special thank you to Jim and Rosie for being prepared to go home and then to think about our retrieve and come out and get us. Thank you also to Gregor for running out fuel to us. Thank you to Saska for being there and for your support. I am very humbled and proud to have friends like you. Thank you.