The date is 20th of January 1997 and we are sitting at the breakfast table. "We" is Nela, Malte, Joern, our regular breakfast guest Ken Horlock from Bathurst and myself. It is 8:00 am and we're sweating in 30 degree Celsius. The topic of conversation is - pretty obvious - weather and - you guessed it - its influence on gliding. More specifically what the day is going to bring and what task time we will fly at the National Sports and Two Seater Championship '97 in Renmark. Because that's where we are, in front of a tent at a camping table. The weather had gone through the fairly typical "Renmark" cycle with the front (a pretty violent one, with canvas flying) gone through 6 days ago and the first day of the competition cancelled. The subsequent days heated up gradually and our weather man Maurie Bradney had hinted at the possibility of a "super day" at the end of the cycle. All breakfast participants were in agreement that the day had come - and it was my turn to fly the Pik today. I had made up my mind already earlier to try a 500 kilometre flight, weather permitting, competition or not. The tasking system permits basically any distance and time flown, with min. flying time and distance prescribed only.
Briefing at 10:00 fully confirimed our breakfast discussion. Maurie promised Cu with 9,000 feet base and lifts to 8 kts. The possibility of late thunderstorms was mentioned but I relegated that thought to the back of my mind and concentrated on the good bits. Already during the briefing the first cumuli developed and by the time we left the terminal building the day was flyable. First launch was set at 12:00 mid day, the start gate would open sometime around 1:00 pm.
The official competition turn points are roughly lined up in east/west direction and an FAI triangle was for that reason out of the question: I selected the two points furthest west (Blanchtown) and east (Carwarp) respectively, which gave me a distance of just under 500 kilometre. To make up, Loxton was inserted as a last turn point to bring the total to 523 km.
By the time I was in the air at 12:25, the weather showed it's full potential. Two to four eighth of gorgeous looking clouds inhabited the sky. The Laidler's Cessna towed WQF straight under one of those. When I released at 2,000 feet I could faintly see another glider close to base, at least 5,000 ft higher then myself. The vario simply continued to sing in high tones and I climbed to 8,000 feet with 6 kt on the averager. While waiting for the start gate, I hovered between 8 and 9,000 feet, trying out a few other clouds and finding the area of best lift beneath them.
The competition director opened the gate 50 minutes into the flight and I lost no time to photograph and get on my way. The day just could not get much better than it already was and I had no plans to gaggle anyway. The first leg fully lived up to my expectations. I did not manage to fly "dolphin" style but with average climbs in excess of 7 kts l still reached Blanchtown in little over 50 minutes with an average speed over 110 kph. A little glitch there as I realised that I photographed the wrong island in the river. Another 360 degree turn and the wing pointed to the correct spot. The sky above Blanchtown was, not quite unexpectedly, a little empty and I flew in and out quickly. After taking a couple of short five knot climbs to settle my nerves, I found my best thermal for the day; the mechanical vario at the stops and the averager indicating 10 knots from 6,000 to cloud base at just over 10,000 feet. Things don't get any better than this, I thought and pressed on.
Half an hour later the world still looked OK, but from a much closer distance. Less then 4,000 feet is OK but with a convection height of 12,000 feet or more it's less than ideal. The strong northerly wind had produced some streeting and I flew across instead of with them. Brief consideration was given to change the task up and down the streets but I did not want to be stranded downwind of a thunderstorm with 30 knots blowing against me later in the day. I was back south of Renmark by that time and after a little struggle scored a 9 knotter from 5,000 to 10,300 feet, the highest point of the whole flight and half the task behind me. 25 minutes further on I find myself at 4,000 again. The cumuli are further apart and some of them are distinctly overdeveloped. I resolve to back off a little and turn the ring back from 6 knots to 4 knots, still directing me to fly in excess of 90 kt at most of the time. In this mode I work my way up to 10,000 and round Carwarp at 7,000. Turning against the sun the sky does the usual thing - it looks dreadful. The clouds are flat, have ragged edges and seem to be even further apart. Another thing I'm not sure about if it's good or bad - the dust devils, which were a welcome sign earlier, have developed into mini, localised dust storms which now lift the soil from a number of paddocks in one go instead of rising in defined columns. I estimate another hour and a half to complete my task and I rave to go downwind a little because no official turn points are upwind of Renmark.
It takes another solid climb from 4,000 to just under 10,000 feet to restore confidence in myself and the weather. Nevertheless I decide to stay upwind and make the decision for Loxton as I get closer to home. Again I drop below 5,000 feet. During the earlier days of the competition I would have been delighted with such an altitude but that was with total convection height not more than that. Now it was significantly less than 1/2 and 5:00 in the afternoon I vividly remember Maurie strongly recommending several times during earlier briefings to stay high in the latter part of the day to avoid losing contact. With some success I try staying high and dry. As I establish final glide into Renmark, it's time to make the decision to complete the diamond distance of 500 km or chicken out and take the safe route home. The sun. is low and obscured by awfully large pancake cumutus clouds. I wonder, if there is any lift left under them. As the task time was set at 3 hours and my own time on task is already four, it's certain, that everybody else is home already. Just as I'm pondering, the phone rings (we do things in style in Renmark, only secure communication lines). Joern is wondering, where I am. He is afraid that the day is dying and I might not make it home.
After I assure him that I have final glide from where I am but need to divert to Loxton to complete 500 km, he agrees that it would be foolish not to go there.
As it turned out, it was a shoein. With a one to two knot ring setting I glide into Loxton, photograph and still have final glide to Renmark.
As always when you don't really need it anymore, I fly under one of the pancakes and gain 500 feet flying straight ahead.
The finish line is still manned (or do I have to write "personed") and acknowledges my 10 km call. I cross the line after 4 hours 50 minutes and 523 kilometres. With 109 kilometres per hour it - was my personal best and I place 6th for the day. Not that it matters, but it was also the longest distance flown in the 1997 Sports and Two Seater competition.