My First Cross Country - Roger Appleboom

Memories of the Inter- Cub League at Upavon 2016

“You’re not a virgin anymore, mate!” beamed a delighted Richard Roberts when I finally arrived back at the airfield on Saturday evening with Barry and the K6. And, like that other lost virginity many moons ago, it all felt painless, natural, and rather pleasant; my only concern was missing the sumptuous BBQ put on by the lads and lasses at the Wyvern Gliding Club, but I need not have worried - they had hardly started the feast.

The morning hadn’t exactly brought with it that ‘air of promise’ that the start to an adventure should. Arriving at the airfield at 8a.m., with Richard the only soul stirring at that hour, checking his K6 in a thoroughly business-like way, we helped each other rig - ready for tea and egg and bacon butties prior to the 10 o’clock task briefing. It was then that I discovered the gaps in my preparation that a late finish the evening before and an early start inevitably brings. The Oudie I had packed, but not it’s support bracket, so there was nowhere in the glider to display it, but as it was not plumbed in to a separate power supply the battery wouldn’t last long anyway. Map and compass it is then, although the 1:500,000 chart I had with me seemed to show a pitiful lack of detail. Water would have to be stowed in the ‘map pocket’ on the side, but so would the hand-held radio, phone, chart, pen, camera - and anything else I might wish to take……. ummm……storage space will have to be a consideration in the future if I actually wanted to fit in the glider AND use the rudder pedals.

I wandered into the briefing without a chart, notepad, pen map marker, so couldn’t even note down telephone numbers, radio frequencies or turn points; the latter I could only find on an AA road atlas. I had once taken a motorcycle into the Sahara desert with similar ‘meticulous planning’! The task itself was 130kms; Upavon, Melksham, Wantage, Upavon. I had expected about 50kms, a jolly around the airfield, not a Grand Tour of Wessex. This was meant to be the novice task.

Luckily I could not have asked for a better crew; Richard lent me his 1:250,000 chart and marked the route for me. Invaluable advice came from all quarters. Richard:- go north for a bit to avoid airspace, then west; two large towns will be obvious, Devizes then Melksham. Turn over Melksham and head north-east, keeping south of the big blot on the landscape called Swindon. Using head marks all the time, using compass headings for back-up, confirming ground features with the chart - good basic advice.

From Roger:- mark the compass headings on the chart to take the load off when flying and navigating.

From Barry:- field selection early, but having got an escape route, never give up. Thanks guys!

For all the lack of preparation, and apprehension at the briefing, once in the glider there were no nerves, just the thrill and exhilaration at the prospect of a flight without the need to keep an eye on the airfield. The launch gave me a respectable 1200ft. I climbed a few hundred more, the clouds to the north looked little different from those above the airfield so I decided to start the task straight away. I flew over the hangars towards Marlborough to clear the Downs, and then turned west , knowing that the only way I was going to land back at the field was if the task was completed. My advice to myself was ‘DON’T LOOK BACK’, but at that moment it was not needed; I had neither the wish nor interest in doing so.

I’ve spent most of my life with an ant’s eye view of the world; distances seem huge because you can see no further than the nearest bush, tree or building, around which I must scamper ant-like to get anywhere. In the last few years I’ve been privileged to view the countryside as a bird does; a different perspective that is still a delightful novelty.

Upavon airfield from 3000 feet

Looking east from Pewsey, where I found another 500ft, Devizes was a blot on the ground lying just south of my intended heading, with Melksham another clearly visible landmark further on and slightly north. With a top-up in a thermal between the two towns I rounded the first turn point at only 1200ft, and heading back towards Wantage. Into wind, I was always fighting for height, hugging the north side of the Downs, where there always seemed a bit of lift. The intended course was 060, but my more southerly route crossed the M4 near Membury services - way too far south of Wantage - and again with 1000ft. I picked a field on the southerly edge of Lambourn, over which I circled like a dog chasing its own tail, until eventually 1000ft turned to 1200ft, turned into 1500, and then at 2500 with a couple of Red Kites for company I knew I was still in the game and headed north for Wantage. If the last turn point could be reached with any height then it was a down-wind leg and a chance of completing; if not, then the K6 would be parked as close to the turn point as possible.

Vale of Pewsey

The Ridgeway path runs over Lambourn Down - pretty from the air, but the northern edge turned min. sink into max. sink, and at 700ft, with a field already spotted and looking increasingly attractive, I resigned myself to the inevitable, and without any doubt or regret, went into a circuit for a final check and landed into wind, slightly uphill, and along the furrows rather than across; all too smooth, all too easy; how I love that K6!

My first land out

A couple of phone calls to the airfield, a chat about horses for 20 minutes with the only local
resident I could find, and then a wait for my retrieve - ‘superhero of the day’ Barry Green. Sitting on a warm chalk Down by the side of the glider, watching a pair of Red Kites swooping low over us with the Cumulus visible beyond, I reflected that no-one had yet devised a finer way to spend a Saturday.

Dropping in to chat with the locals

POST SCRIPT

While I was goofing around completing no more than 3/4 of my task, Richard Roberts and Roger Green completed their own tasks with aplomb, 270k and 200k respectively, Richard in his K6CR - the only wooden ship outside the novice class - in a time matching the more modern fibreglass exotica. Yet both were generous in their praise of my own much more modest efforts; Airmanship AND Esprit de Corps…….something we should all aspire to.

Richard Roberts at the start of his epic task

Roger Appleboom