SAFA Skysailor Magazine

11 January | February 2024 SKY SAILOR bunch of flying nuts watching Top Gun Maver- ick and me getting much better sleep in a high altitude suit, warm as toast. Practice makes perfect The final day dawned with another cloudless blue dome and no wind to speak of. We got all the gear back on the runway, this time including our own gliders and a launch dolly. This was the big change for the day. I’d read the dolly needs to be pushed to speed by the pilot holding it till take off. Pete gave us a talk about what to expect and what to do/not to do – the big thing: Don’t release till you’re flying, and don’t push out. Apprehensively, I go first, though more com- fortable in my own harness. Today another flyer, Rick, does the signal work. I pull myself forwards, ask for the tension, then: “Go now, go now, go now.” The dolly rattles more than the fixed-wheel Malibu and slews to the right off the runway. Just as I wonder how I know when to release, the tubing I hold the dolly with becomes tight, I let go. Ballooning too quick, the tug drops, I stuff the bar back and head for the ground as the tug lifts, I ease the bar forward, into the perfect position for the climb. This doesn’t last long. Over the railway tracks the tug hits a thermal and zooms into the blue, I release pressure and woosh up. Then it hits the sink. Now I’m way to high, I stuff the bar back to my full reach. At first the tug doesn’t seem to come back to me, then, slowly, it rises. I’ll have to watch for that! Pete had made a comment as I set up my Fun, “No speed bar!” At the time I thought, ‘A speed bar on a Fun is like racing snails,’ now I understand. At about 2500ft, Pete waves for my release. Click, the wind and noise go, it’s quiet, slow, and relaxing. I hit a thermal and turn against the push, immediately Pete is on the radio, “No! Don’t do that! I need you on the ground!” I pull the bar back, return the call, and reluc- tantly join the landing circuit. Robbo and I take turns to do quick low tows up to about 700ft AGL until Robbo says, “I think that’s my last flight today.” “Why?” “I’m feeling a bit sick.” He gets some water but still feels off, so let’s Pete know. While disappointing, it’s good airmanship and shows his experience. I get a few more rapid flights in, with a pause as Rick takes his Wills Wing up. My last tow is to 4000ft, and I can hunt for thermals to my heart’s content. On the way up, I’m sure I get lots, the tug is up and down and I’m slewing left and right, I’m all but dogfighting the tug! My arms are caning and I almost release early. On release it’s quiet and smooth, too smooth! Where did all the thermals go? I look around, not a single cloud. I head over the reliable train tracks, glass smooth now. Oh well – the horizon stretches into the distance over farmland with a nice mix of trees in still green paddocks. After I land, I tell Pete about the mysterious disappearing thermals, he laughs. “I was putting you through your paces, throttle up, down, bit of a weave, I had to know you can do this,” he says with a cheeky grin. Aerotowing can be tricky…