BCC Final

[brian day]

I was press ganged into doing a write up for the BCC. This is my effort so far, any other suggestions to add in? I'll obviously include names of all members who have competed during the year. If you have taken part please add to the post with details of which round you were in, 'cause if it's left to me I'm sure I will forget someone by mistake.
cheers,
Brian

I suppose the journey started way back at the beginning of the year, when the troops rallied and followed their great leader, where he marched them to the top of the hill and marched them down again, with the veiled promise of a sea breeze or a hill facing into the wind just around the corner. Of course, General Cleasby was washed from the hill with the mother of all thunder storms; it is truly amaising how heavy a bag full of paragliding kit is when soaked with water. If I’d fallen over face first I would have undoubtedly drowned.
However with the short journeys completed, the last lap on the quest to retain the title began on Friday 29th August with the long and arduous trip, (well for the driver anyway, the rest of us were enjoying some well fuelled banter in the back of the campervan) from Newcastle upon Tyne to somewhere, well, down south really. I think it was near the Long Mynd, or at least that’s what they told me.
The motley crew arrived on the campsite, despite the disbelief of the sat nav from the driver at about 11.30pm. This is where the driver got his own back and kicked us out of the van to erect our tents, somehow we managed, I think.
Yes we had made it to the final of the BCC again, let the partying commence, well for the driver anyway; the rest of us had been practicing hard from about 5.30pm. Sometime, well, lateish, we were thrown out of the van to find our way to the tents and get the needed sleep for the upcoming competition.
Morning broke, along with our heads, to the rustling of the team flag in the very stiff breeze. Some of the team nursed themselves with breakfast, while others went off to the nearest town for a more substantial feast. Briefing was called and with only three of the team present, swift phone calls and panic ensued. Eventually everyone was back at the campsite trying to put co-ordinates into sat navs to find the chosen site. Off through narrow country lanes, more disbelief of the sat nav, we can’t drive up there, we’re just going round in circles, eventually group pressure won and we followed the instructions given out by the box on the windscreen.
Pulses began to race, the van was filled with excitement, there were people flying, yes!! We found the field and ran around a little like headless chickens, trying to persuade people in 4x4s to take us to the summit. Unfortunately most of the 4x4s went the wrong way and made the walk longer and more tiring, getting nowhere near the briefing. Good news for me, no room in a 4x4 so a straight march up the face. The exercise got the body into action and made me ready for the day.
The briefing on the hill was made in overcast conditions with a lively breeze tugging on the windsock, but I think it will brighten up later! There was a good competition briefing and local pilots were on hand with maps to show us possible routes to take for the open distance task. ‘In these conditions you’ll probably go towards Llangollen, but you’ll never get there’. (Primary task, get to Llangollen, I knew it well from my canoeing days, and a pint in the Royal on the bridge seemed a good target)
People were very reticent to take off and those that did seemed to get pinned at the back of the ridge in their initial attempts to go for gold, staying out front seemed ok. There was a hint of sunshine in the distance and more lulls in the wind. This I think got most of the pilots into the air. The flying seemed to be a day of ups and downs. You were either scratching around the ridge or bounding forward and upwards in what appeared to be wave. Thermals were pinging off from the back of the ridge, making it tempting to try, they soon fizzled out and you had to battle back to the ridge. Chris Foster, one of our pilots took an early chance and managed a creditable 10km. Later in the day a group got away in a thermal, I chose the next one, it felt good, but having followed it for about 2km, I lost contact. On the way back to the ridge I picked up another, yes, this is the one. On the way to base I noticed that I had been joined by Neil Smith, another team mate, a hang glider and another pilot. We drifted with the thermal at base for about 5km until we lost it. Let’s go for that pint in Llangollen! Unfortunately my glide ran short, and with power lines running along the ridge I couldn’t risk squeaking over. Neil on the other hand had found a bit of lift over a town in sunshine and just got over the ridge, last seen playing the lead balloon trick into the Llangollen valley. Well done Neil he managed another 2km. I packed away, walked to the road, heard a car, stuck out the thumb, and went straight to Llangollen. We passed Neil about 1km outside the town, serves you right for flying further than me! It didn’t take long to meet up and make our way to the Royal for a pint, or two. Two hours later the retrieve arrived, but there had been plenty to see in Llangollen with the International balloon festival and everything that goes with such an event!
After the long journey back to the campsite, we all went for the Hog Roast. Amid rumours of other flights we realised that maybe the three scoring flights were not going to be enough, so we had to hatch a plan. Get the pigs head! Short diversionary tactics ensued and within minutes the Geordie camp were proud owners of the mighty pigs head. It was seen adorning several areas of team members. The cheeks were devoured, we had won The Pigs Head! Celebrations were subdued; could we redeem ourselves in the morning?
Apparently, it rained all night, never heard a thing! The orders were given to decamp and head for The Mynd. A field full of owners of 2 second tents were now wrestling with their night’s accommodation. After watching and laughing for so long I eventually put the owners out of their misery with the double twist and fold that it takes to pack them away.
Arriving at The Mynd a little early we decided on breakfast in the gliding club via a quick look at the £40000 gyrocopters. A panic phone call from Gary Stenhouse the team captain found us all running back to the road for the prize giving. It was raining and the clag was coming in from the back of the hill. It was confirmed, we were indeed runners up. Well done to the Dales lads who had won. Nice prizes sponsored by Airwave were on offer for the winners and runners up. As the prize giving came to an end the rain did stop, I think it will clear later!
After hanging around for an hour, to see if it would clear later, we gave up, planning our route home via every flying site we could think of.
We arrived in South Sheilds in a rain storm nearly as bad as the Cleasby days, without a break in the rain all day. But I think it will clear later!
A little disappointed not to win the competition, but in the words of Arnie, ‘We’ll be back’ A great weekend though and many thanks to all those who organised the earlier rounds and the final weekend.
We did win The Pigs Head though!

[John Wallis]

Great write up Brian and well done to the team. 2nd is a credible result.

JW