What a good day we had at Clough on Thursday.
With a summer of little promise slip-sliding into autumn and good days few and far between, and a weekend of high winds coming up on the horizon, I can safely sit with this shawl around my shoulders again, the tin cup. Brim- filled once again with strong tea, and just a hint of bromide….Now what’s that for again?....
Memory fails me….
Reflecting once again how Cloughead came up with the goods for those who got the day off from work on Thursday, or whatever it is that they do to keep the wolf from the door
Everything has to be paid for of course….there is always a down side….
Travelling with Brian Day…
Do you know how many people are creeping dangerously close to him in the XC league? ….Do you know that the masses are rebelling even as we speak…..do you know how little the cretins know about good leader ship?,,,,
Yes Boss, I’ve got my mind right Boss, I’m a shakin’ it Boss….Wake me up when we get to Penrith Boss!
Gary is back home tomorrow, now he takes some beating…. I think I should be grateful for small mercies…
And when we got to the quarry at Clough you still have to face the hump ahead…unless of course you have your own sherpa….Thanks Dan for that.
Two down……and now that we’ve got to where we are going to get off….Where’s the wind?......none……There must have been about twelve of us then….and six decided to go higher…onto the Hintertoisser traverse to the very top of Clough…
Not for me…..I chose to stay put, an odd man out, among the Carlisle rejects who like me, cannily knew that if the wind came….it would come to where we were….and before long …whyyabugger!
Who’s a canny fella now...Aye?
Brian Doub…(have I got the name right)….took off first, flew to the crags and the UP escalator….It works every time….I just love the place…..and for the rest of us that followed, the long wait became history……Just good flying from then on in….
Seeing the Panorama of the Lakes from the air is something that you just never tire of….
I often wonder, if you could only take one of those walkers who love to look down their noses at us as we drive our 4by4’s up “our” track at Cross Fell, beat them over their heads, with their own walking boots for five minutes or so, just to get their tiny minds right….then say…..Look here bonny lad….sit here in this armchair, I’ll just put these strings onto it….Now the helium balloons….now we’re cooking on gas, up you go now……now is that how to do it?
Or is that how to do it?....Want to buy this wing?
What a wonderful sport we have….armchair views of the best scenery on this teeming planet, and all for free…..I just feel humbled at times like these…..
So the day finished for me halfway down the valley…..I tried to get around the corner but I seen the sign which said:
Only good flyers beyond this point!
No arguing with that….down in the field with the rest of the losers then?
Well done Paul Smith….a proper cross country flyer.
So why am I writing this?....Much ado about nothing?
All Rogan Josh?
I don’t think so, I only want to express my appreciation for another day doing what I like to do….I used to like doing something else as well, Just can’t remember what it was though…..So you don’t do a big cross country after all…..It’s not the end of the world is it?.....Learn to appreciate the flying for what its worth….That is the way that I look at it now…..
Let me leave you with the problem that has taxed my brain this week
Is the sea less cold at Cullercoats beach when the tide is out?
Just ramblin' three?
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Just ramblin' three?
Last edited by MadDog on Fri Aug 14, 2009 10:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Just Cheered me up on a Drearery Friday 
But I don't, maybe next time, or get their walking boots off and follow Grandpa Johns Instructions......
I Know I know..It's not just me then .. I always feel so guilty as you drive by and get one of those down their nose ''Good Mornings'' I want to jump out the car car an explain..I'm not lazy, Y'see this is what we do.....I often wonder, if you could only take one of those walkers who love to look down their noses at us as we drive our 4by4’s up “our” track at Cross Fell, beat them over their heads, with their own walking boots for five minutes or so, just to get their tiny minds right….then say…..Look here bonny lad….sit here in this armchair, I’ll just put these strings onto it….Now the helium balloons….now we’re cooking on gas, up you go now……
But I don't, maybe next time, or get their walking boots off and follow Grandpa Johns Instructions......
30m Breaststroke
Cookery MVQ level 1
Cookery MVQ level 1
Now didn't you know I'd answer that one?Is the sea less cold at Cullercoats beach when the tide is out?
Sorry about having to burden you with my company on the journey John!
Now the tide issue! The water is actually warmer on the incoming tide. The sun heats the sand more efficiently than it does the water, so the sand, with a little water content is warmer than the water, as the tide comes in the heat from the sand radiates to the water and consequently warms the water on the incoming tide.
Unless of course little Johnny pisses in it or Smithy from the ice factory lets out a flush, then the theory goes to pot!
Well done Paul, can I book you for a tandem for my son?
I was ready to go back for more but the dog had has his bone and wanted to go to the pub for a meal. If he'd let me go back for another go he would have got his nose bag, but we were too early for the meal at the pub so he just got the lift home.
See you out there!!!!!
Surf crazed and dazed
Livetrack24 Nezzy01
Surf crazed and dazed
Livetrack24 Nezzy01
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Jim Bittlestone
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- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 7:08 pm
- Location: Washington
Another great tale from the master story teller. Well overdue I might add! Another great days flying with great company, plenty of laughing and joking all the way.
The last laugh was had by Mad dog Miller as he watched us non-believers hike up the hill on a very sweaty afternoon, telling all who would listen it would work....and it did.
Another day older, another day wiser.
My first time on Clough Head and what a site! Fantastic!
Alas the thermals were there, but smoother and weaker than I've flown in before...
this is what they meant... experience...and you haven't got it....
Patience was required, technique and finnesse not cranking in a full on 360, gentle, flatter, with feeling. I realised too late though... your going down mate....
I saw Andrew and Dave land below as I was scratching low.
That sign on the fell, I saw it too, and my name was on it with a big arrow. I duly obeyed and spiralled down to land, learning from Alistairs post on his pennine pub tour.
This is my neck of the woods, there's not many pubs in the lakes I haven't frequented at on time or another, so if I was landing, it wasn't going to be next to any ice cream van...
Damb the metreage, the olc points, (whatever they are), I'm landing next to the two canny cumbrians in the closest field not 50 yards from the pub.My day was done, or was it...?
I was offerred a pint by the kind Brian Doub on arrival and, as I was about to accept gratefully, (and nominate him for the CSC pilot of the month), over his shoulder, I saw a vision of beauty...
Another 15 wings in the sunshine over Clough Head, climbing high, working better than when we were there.
Now, when your first thought is to climb back up that sweaty hill, instead of a cool pint of Theakstons finest, you know you're in too deep...only one thing for it.
I've got a book on hitch hiking somewhere, from my brother who thought it was hilarious that I disappeared to France climbing with a mate in the 6 weeks holidays, aged 15. (I told me mam I was camping in the Lakes!).
This book, it gives you a point for smiling, one more for a ruck sack, one for a brolly, minus one for sunglasses, tatoos, minus one for a porn tash, don't shoot the messenger John, I didn't write it.
You get about twenty points for being blonde, leggy and tanned for some reason?
Maximise your points and match your look with your driver it says. Not sure how many I got for my sweaty dishevelled state, drooling over the wings in the distance.
I crossed the road, putting on my interesting, but harmless look, with the puppy dog eyes and occasional wry smile. Sunglasses on, but raised on the forehead, I was going for windswept and interesting.
Peering behind the windscreens, trying to match the right look with the right driver...First car was a huge bloke with a handlebar tash and leather vest..where are those nut huggers when I need them? He slowed down but thought better of it! Old couple? responsible look. Nowt. Single bloke? Chest out, man's man, but not too over bearing, not too camp. He sped up looking a bit frightened. Single lass? Here we go, you're in here son, belly in, chest out. She looked a bit worried too.
I was disturbed by a couple watching me from the beer garden laughing, falling off their seat whilst holding onto their sides which were obviously splitting. Looking down, my top was poking out through my fly in my shorts, looking like I was flashing. Oh bugger, time to move.
I remembered advice from Jocky and others.. "Never leave the lift" they said "unless you have another lift to go to". I think thats how it went?
And since Andrew had his fantastic new Jeep in the capable hands of Dan en route, I hiked up the hill toward the layby.
After my initial disappointment of not getting a lift, doing my best hitching poses, flying poorly, impatient to catch up with others, leaving too low, cranking too hard, assuming I could top up, as and when, (I couldnt), I looked around. I was in good company, Andrew was there on his crispy new wing, cruelly dumped by the wind gods after gaining good height early doors, Dave Horne, always up there in the stack and Mad Dog himself of course. No shortage of banter here, good times.
Beaten again, this time by our fine story teller, jogging down the hill to the layby, sitting so close to Andrew you couldn't get a fag paper between them, the head on his shoulder was the final nail in my coffin. Counting the wings, looks like I'm walking here I thought, and there was already a tandem wing in there? No room at the Inn? Bad times!
John was in the Jeep in a flash, wing on his lap with a massive smile on his face, door shut...never seen him move so fast... I truly have much to learn...
A bit sheepish, I held back..last to arrive, last in...if theres room?
I needn't have worried tho, Andrew the true gentleman that he is, says haway in, room for one more. Top bloke, especially after giving us a lift up to the quarry again! Fantastic, much appreciated.
I heard from pilot of the day, Paul Smith, he was too high to see the sign, cruising to Grasmere cool as you like, on the same wing as mine... took off lower than us..., great flying in not easy conditions. Nice one mate. At least I'm not travelling home in a loser cruiser, one of us did okay and a long drive back to get the gen for next time.
Off up for another hour and a bit in the sun with Dave, flew to the top of the stack with Kitt, Fancy going along the ridge? Aye I says, and with that I saw a white blur disappear over the horizon. How fast? By the time I got there he sussed it had switched off and headed back, losing hardly any height at all. I came back having lost about 1200ft, scratching at the bottom of the cliff. When I'm big I want one of them.
Last one to leave the hill, I soaked up the view one last time, and headed for the landing field, where my Dales nomination for pilot of the month, Alex, gave me a lift to the Salutation in Threkeld. Paul was a picture, pint in hand, all smiles, great, this is going to be a good trip home, I got the gen...get high, stay high, easy really?
The last laugh was had by Mad dog Miller as he watched us non-believers hike up the hill on a very sweaty afternoon, telling all who would listen it would work....and it did.
Another day older, another day wiser.
My first time on Clough Head and what a site! Fantastic!
How very true.... but, it would have been nice to all do the big XC too?I only want to express my appreciation for another day doing what I like to do….I used to like doing something else as well, Just can’t remember what it was though…..So you don’t do a big cross country after all…..It’s not the end of the world is it?.....Learn to appreciate the flying for what its worth….That is the way that I look at it now…..
Alas the thermals were there, but smoother and weaker than I've flown in before...
this is what they meant... experience...and you haven't got it.... Patience was required, technique and finnesse not cranking in a full on 360, gentle, flatter, with feeling. I realised too late though... your going down mate....
I saw Andrew and Dave land below as I was scratching low.
That sign on the fell, I saw it too, and my name was on it with a big arrow. I duly obeyed and spiralled down to land, learning from Alistairs post on his pennine pub tour.
This is my neck of the woods, there's not many pubs in the lakes I haven't frequented at on time or another, so if I was landing, it wasn't going to be next to any ice cream van...
Damb the metreage, the olc points, (whatever they are), I'm landing next to the two canny cumbrians in the closest field not 50 yards from the pub.My day was done, or was it...?
I was offerred a pint by the kind Brian Doub on arrival and, as I was about to accept gratefully, (and nominate him for the CSC pilot of the month), over his shoulder, I saw a vision of beauty...
Another 15 wings in the sunshine over Clough Head, climbing high, working better than when we were there.
Now, when your first thought is to climb back up that sweaty hill, instead of a cool pint of Theakstons finest, you know you're in too deep...only one thing for it.
I've got a book on hitch hiking somewhere, from my brother who thought it was hilarious that I disappeared to France climbing with a mate in the 6 weeks holidays, aged 15. (I told me mam I was camping in the Lakes!).
This book, it gives you a point for smiling, one more for a ruck sack, one for a brolly, minus one for sunglasses, tatoos, minus one for a porn tash, don't shoot the messenger John, I didn't write it.
You get about twenty points for being blonde, leggy and tanned for some reason?
Maximise your points and match your look with your driver it says. Not sure how many I got for my sweaty dishevelled state, drooling over the wings in the distance.
I crossed the road, putting on my interesting, but harmless look, with the puppy dog eyes and occasional wry smile. Sunglasses on, but raised on the forehead, I was going for windswept and interesting.
Peering behind the windscreens, trying to match the right look with the right driver...First car was a huge bloke with a handlebar tash and leather vest..where are those nut huggers when I need them? He slowed down but thought better of it! Old couple? responsible look. Nowt. Single bloke? Chest out, man's man, but not too over bearing, not too camp. He sped up looking a bit frightened. Single lass? Here we go, you're in here son, belly in, chest out. She looked a bit worried too.
I was disturbed by a couple watching me from the beer garden laughing, falling off their seat whilst holding onto their sides which were obviously splitting. Looking down, my top was poking out through my fly in my shorts, looking like I was flashing. Oh bugger, time to move.
I remembered advice from Jocky and others.. "Never leave the lift" they said "unless you have another lift to go to". I think thats how it went?
And since Andrew had his fantastic new Jeep in the capable hands of Dan en route, I hiked up the hill toward the layby.
After my initial disappointment of not getting a lift, doing my best hitching poses, flying poorly, impatient to catch up with others, leaving too low, cranking too hard, assuming I could top up, as and when, (I couldnt), I looked around. I was in good company, Andrew was there on his crispy new wing, cruelly dumped by the wind gods after gaining good height early doors, Dave Horne, always up there in the stack and Mad Dog himself of course. No shortage of banter here, good times.
Beaten again, this time by our fine story teller, jogging down the hill to the layby, sitting so close to Andrew you couldn't get a fag paper between them, the head on his shoulder was the final nail in my coffin. Counting the wings, looks like I'm walking here I thought, and there was already a tandem wing in there? No room at the Inn? Bad times!
John was in the Jeep in a flash, wing on his lap with a massive smile on his face, door shut...never seen him move so fast... I truly have much to learn...
A bit sheepish, I held back..last to arrive, last in...if theres room?
I needn't have worried tho, Andrew the true gentleman that he is, says haway in, room for one more. Top bloke, especially after giving us a lift up to the quarry again! Fantastic, much appreciated.
I heard from pilot of the day, Paul Smith, he was too high to see the sign, cruising to Grasmere cool as you like, on the same wing as mine... took off lower than us..., great flying in not easy conditions. Nice one mate. At least I'm not travelling home in a loser cruiser, one of us did okay and a long drive back to get the gen for next time.
Off up for another hour and a bit in the sun with Dave, flew to the top of the stack with Kitt, Fancy going along the ridge? Aye I says, and with that I saw a white blur disappear over the horizon. How fast? By the time I got there he sussed it had switched off and headed back, losing hardly any height at all. I came back having lost about 1200ft, scratching at the bottom of the cliff. When I'm big I want one of them.
Last one to leave the hill, I soaked up the view one last time, and headed for the landing field, where my Dales nomination for pilot of the month, Alex, gave me a lift to the Salutation in Threkeld. Paul was a picture, pint in hand, all smiles, great, this is going to be a good trip home, I got the gen...get high, stay high, easy really?
clough
This is written as an inexperienced pilot so please forgive.......
Ah sadly no trips to Cumbias hidden gems for a pint of Snecklifter for me.
The invisible silver thread tied me firmly to the bottom hill while it's winch operator was doing some testing on the reverse gear every now and then as evidenced by the 'unhappy' sounds coming from my vario. Occasionally he would nip off for a fag and a pee and leave me alone to contemplate the vista in 360 degrees. At one point he went for a Ginsters pastie and I continued skywards until he returned.
Maltby off, Brain off, Jim off, Dave Horne off, Ian H off too. Only me and enthusiastic Rob on the hill. He with 40 hours wanted me to be his wind dummy but I didn't want to be last so that's fine.
Being last on the hill is almost like being picked last for the rugby team at school where the only choice for the 2 team captains is the lad with the caliper and co ordination problems or you. Sparing myself the inevitable outcome I did the fastest DI ever and turned to face the wing just as the sea breeze we'd hoped for picked up. At least I could console myself with some ridge soaring if I got off I thought but thats second prize and I wanted a full lottery win.
A few beats of the face to reassure myself that my paramotor death risers weren't out to get me ,now I'm a mere slip of a lad after giving up the bacon sarnies, and I headed off down the ridge. Not too far like! Wouldn't want to upset anyone by climbing up the XC league far above my station. Anyway I'm the strong man off that league. I'm holding twenty odd other pilots up!
Within minutes I was off dancing with the dandylions in the smooth Cumbrian thermals. Round and round we go beep beep beep boop boop boop ah sh*t lost it. Relax relax relax after one of the tips deflates remembering my French experience then I slip back in beep beep beep beep. Straight ahead I see the mountains whose names I remain ignorant of but that's no barrier to the enjoyment of their dark shape and power. I see their peaks fall lower on my horizon before the aneroid tells electrons in the vario to make a sound and I'm up further again. Not too high , still below the Skygod CTA of which I'm yet to penetrate, but high enough not to see individual blades of grass.
A crowd has gathered to loiter. If this were the rules of the ground we'd be moved on by the Police but these are not the rules of the ground my boy these are the rules of the air. We congregate, different peoples, different backgrounds, different clans but all with one common purpose...
.....to fly! United in our cause.
I recently read that Knowledge is all well and good but realisation is knowledge put into practice and that is acheivement. I knew how to fly thermals but I hadn't realised that yet. I had tried in France but the evil faces of French thermals at 37C scared my wing tips and they tucked themselves in behind the rest of my duvet. My reactions were hardly lightening and I found myself in places I didn't want to be in. Those thoughts weighed heavy on my flying .I had trawled the internet searching for tips but one stood out most ...." when in lift turn". Doesn't matter which way it continued if you encounter even lift but turn. So I follwed the advice. Many times I turned the wrong way but I knew by the unhappy sounds booming from the vario I was wrong and exchanged brake positions for the happy sounds of Up.
Gazing out again over the shifting shadows cast by Cumulous I turned to face another direction accompanied by the sounds of up once again. How can a sound of constant frequency and duration sound like music ???
My hands now slipped between the brake handles and I assumed a positive position in the harness. Brian was right the stirrup wasn't right for thermalling and I ditched it. Turns were smoother and the thermals smoother still. Nice. Don't go too far back 'cause the old Bolero doesn't have the legs for an upwind sprint. An hour and 40 mins later a voice nagging in the back of my head was saying it's time to go. I decided on the farmers field and the £1 fine. Topping up with the odd thermal along the way I arrived over the landing field with planty of height to burn with a few spirals. Constant aspect approach buggered and couple of S turns wound off the altitude and I arrived in the corner of the field and then packed away my glider.
If I had a GPS that worked I could tell exactly how many times I went round and round and round again over the Cumbrian countryside. It was a lot.
So no trophies, records or pints of real ale but a good flight for me to set me back on the road to actually becoming a proper pilot.
Ah sadly no trips to Cumbias hidden gems for a pint of Snecklifter for me.
The invisible silver thread tied me firmly to the bottom hill while it's winch operator was doing some testing on the reverse gear every now and then as evidenced by the 'unhappy' sounds coming from my vario. Occasionally he would nip off for a fag and a pee and leave me alone to contemplate the vista in 360 degrees. At one point he went for a Ginsters pastie and I continued skywards until he returned.
Maltby off, Brain off, Jim off, Dave Horne off, Ian H off too. Only me and enthusiastic Rob on the hill. He with 40 hours wanted me to be his wind dummy but I didn't want to be last so that's fine.
Being last on the hill is almost like being picked last for the rugby team at school where the only choice for the 2 team captains is the lad with the caliper and co ordination problems or you. Sparing myself the inevitable outcome I did the fastest DI ever and turned to face the wing just as the sea breeze we'd hoped for picked up. At least I could console myself with some ridge soaring if I got off I thought but thats second prize and I wanted a full lottery win.
A few beats of the face to reassure myself that my paramotor death risers weren't out to get me ,now I'm a mere slip of a lad after giving up the bacon sarnies, and I headed off down the ridge. Not too far like! Wouldn't want to upset anyone by climbing up the XC league far above my station. Anyway I'm the strong man off that league. I'm holding twenty odd other pilots up!
Within minutes I was off dancing with the dandylions in the smooth Cumbrian thermals. Round and round we go beep beep beep boop boop boop ah sh*t lost it. Relax relax relax after one of the tips deflates remembering my French experience then I slip back in beep beep beep beep. Straight ahead I see the mountains whose names I remain ignorant of but that's no barrier to the enjoyment of their dark shape and power. I see their peaks fall lower on my horizon before the aneroid tells electrons in the vario to make a sound and I'm up further again. Not too high , still below the Skygod CTA of which I'm yet to penetrate, but high enough not to see individual blades of grass.
A crowd has gathered to loiter. If this were the rules of the ground we'd be moved on by the Police but these are not the rules of the ground my boy these are the rules of the air. We congregate, different peoples, different backgrounds, different clans but all with one common purpose...
.....to fly! United in our cause.
I recently read that Knowledge is all well and good but realisation is knowledge put into practice and that is acheivement. I knew how to fly thermals but I hadn't realised that yet. I had tried in France but the evil faces of French thermals at 37C scared my wing tips and they tucked themselves in behind the rest of my duvet. My reactions were hardly lightening and I found myself in places I didn't want to be in. Those thoughts weighed heavy on my flying .I had trawled the internet searching for tips but one stood out most ...." when in lift turn". Doesn't matter which way it continued if you encounter even lift but turn. So I follwed the advice. Many times I turned the wrong way but I knew by the unhappy sounds booming from the vario I was wrong and exchanged brake positions for the happy sounds of Up.
Gazing out again over the shifting shadows cast by Cumulous I turned to face another direction accompanied by the sounds of up once again. How can a sound of constant frequency and duration sound like music ???
My hands now slipped between the brake handles and I assumed a positive position in the harness. Brian was right the stirrup wasn't right for thermalling and I ditched it. Turns were smoother and the thermals smoother still. Nice. Don't go too far back 'cause the old Bolero doesn't have the legs for an upwind sprint. An hour and 40 mins later a voice nagging in the back of my head was saying it's time to go. I decided on the farmers field and the £1 fine. Topping up with the odd thermal along the way I arrived over the landing field with planty of height to burn with a few spirals. Constant aspect approach buggered and couple of S turns wound off the altitude and I arrived in the corner of the field and then packed away my glider.
If I had a GPS that worked I could tell exactly how many times I went round and round and round again over the Cumbrian countryside. It was a lot.
So no trophies, records or pints of real ale but a good flight for me to set me back on the road to actually becoming a proper pilot.
You are only as good as your last flight........
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Jim Bittlestone
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- Location: Washington
great writing glen, more please.
It was a good confidence building day with time to think with smooth thermals, you flew well from what i saw, keep at it, before you know it more and more becomes instinctive giving you time to think about where to go etc. It just takes more days like thursday. Nice.
Just the opinion of a fellow novice still learning loads.
It was a good confidence building day with time to think with smooth thermals, you flew well from what i saw, keep at it, before you know it more and more becomes instinctive giving you time to think about where to go etc. It just takes more days like thursday. Nice.
Just the opinion of a fellow novice still learning loads.
Glen, you've got to be very aware of the 'Maltby con move'! He is seen to get his wing out and prepare, conning others into the same action. I've seen him take over an hour, in an attempt to get another wind dummy in the air. Thursday was an absolute classic move of the Maltby con. Make sure others are ready before trying to carry out the con, yes people are ready, in their harness, make your comment,,,'here it comes chaps better get off in this one!' The final sting,,,,fluff your ground handling and allow the other person to get off first.Maltby off, Brain off,
A perfectly executed sting, one wind dummy in the air!!
Should read; Brian off, is it working? Yes OK, Maltby off!!!!!Maltby off, Brain off,
Only I recognise his pattern and went because I wanted to.
I only recognise it because, yes, I have been succored by,,,,
'The Maltby Con'
See you out there!!!!!
Surf crazed and dazed
Livetrack24 Nezzy01
Surf crazed and dazed
Livetrack24 Nezzy01
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Jim Bittlestone
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John Wallis
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Jim Bittlestone
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Mad Dog, Jim, Glenn - I nominate you jointly for the Man Booker literature prize 
Fantastic read! (Daily Mail).... Positively orgasmic enterprise (News of the Screws) ....... Perfectly describes the joy of PG in the Lakes (CSC Spoilt for Choice)
Great day and I am with Mad Dog on this one - just great to float around in lovely mellow lift even if I did land in the losers' field, what the hell it doesn't matter there's always tomorrow
Oh - and I did the Hinterstoisser Traverse because (not only have I been scarred by the Maltby Con), I once stayed put on Threlkeld Knotts on a very similar day and watched them soar over Clough Head whilst I sat on the ground and never once got off (except for the 3 minute fly-down), once bitten, twice shy
Fantastic read! (Daily Mail).... Positively orgasmic enterprise (News of the Screws) ....... Perfectly describes the joy of PG in the Lakes (CSC Spoilt for Choice)
Great day and I am with Mad Dog on this one - just great to float around in lovely mellow lift even if I did land in the losers' field, what the hell it doesn't matter there's always tomorrow
Oh - and I did the Hinterstoisser Traverse because (not only have I been scarred by the Maltby Con), I once stayed put on Threlkeld Knotts on a very similar day and watched them soar over Clough Head whilst I sat on the ground and never once got off (except for the 3 minute fly-down), once bitten, twice shy
Politics is the entertainment branch of industry.
I thought since I was wind dummy for so many on thursday and almost nominated for the coveted CSC pilot of the month...
Yep, I'm impressed, most don't.
I followed Dave Horne's advice to go to Clough, and when I got there was more than ready to blame him for the poor choice of hills as the wind was coming over the back of the knot and we watched Kitt and a few others flying on Latrigg.
As more pilots arrived some felt there was a better chance for a longer fly down from the top - though they said it was because they had "experience" sitting on the knott while others flew from the top.
I didn't listen to Dave on this advice.
Eventually it started to come onto the knott and I was hoping to do a fly by those still walking up! But it wasn't to be. So I laid out and waited. It was good that I didn't rush it as my lines were in a bit of a tangle from packing up on a blown out day last week on Bewaldeth. Thanks to whomever helped me sort the mess, I never got your name.
I owe John an apology as I collapsed my wing hard on his head while he sagely gazed on wondering when I would get out of everyone's way.
I don't mind being a wind dummy. Nor do I mind walking back up, so off I went, over to the crags and climbed.
I thought for sure the "milk run" was going to be easy and I could finally get past Ambleside. But it was not to be - at least for me.
I should have ...
yep, been more patient.
Anyway, down by the pub and I thought the day was over.
Here's some pics:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/overseash ... ugh130809#
After a pint we started to walk back and was picked up by a Spanish couple looking to fly and lost! So I got a ride up to the second gate, a quick walk back to the lower launch, and off again.
The second time was even better than the first. Smooth air and plenty of lift.
It was GREAT to fly with ya'll! I really enjoyed the day.
hope to see ya'll soon.
I ought to at least join the forum and give my impressions of the dayI was offerred a pint by the kind Brian Doub on arrival and, as I was about to accept gratefully, (and nominate him for the CSC pilot of the month)
Brian Doub…(have I got the name right)
Yep, I'm impressed, most don't.
I followed Dave Horne's advice to go to Clough, and when I got there was more than ready to blame him for the poor choice of hills as the wind was coming over the back of the knot and we watched Kitt and a few others flying on Latrigg.
As more pilots arrived some felt there was a better chance for a longer fly down from the top - though they said it was because they had "experience" sitting on the knott while others flew from the top.
I didn't listen to Dave on this advice.
Eventually it started to come onto the knott and I was hoping to do a fly by those still walking up! But it wasn't to be. So I laid out and waited. It was good that I didn't rush it as my lines were in a bit of a tangle from packing up on a blown out day last week on Bewaldeth. Thanks to whomever helped me sort the mess, I never got your name.
I owe John an apology as I collapsed my wing hard on his head while he sagely gazed on wondering when I would get out of everyone's way.
I don't mind being a wind dummy. Nor do I mind walking back up, so off I went, over to the crags and climbed.
I thought for sure the "milk run" was going to be easy and I could finally get past Ambleside. But it was not to be - at least for me.
I should have ...
yep, been more patient.
Anyway, down by the pub and I thought the day was over.
Here's some pics:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/overseash ... ugh130809#
After a pint we started to walk back and was picked up by a Spanish couple looking to fly and lost! So I got a ride up to the second gate, a quick walk back to the lower launch, and off again.
The second time was even better than the first. Smooth air and plenty of lift.
It was GREAT to fly with ya'll! I really enjoyed the day.
hope to see ya'll soon.
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Jim Bittlestone
- Regular
- Posts: 749
- Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 7:08 pm
- Location: Washington
-
Stuart Bertram
- Chatty
- Posts: 257
- Joined: Fri Apr 21, 2006 6:27 pm
- Location: Only 7 miles from Cumrew - bugger
No no no Chris!!.........That's all past tense.Pleased to see you've joined our mad, twisted controversial forum Brian.
There is only room for formal sensible talk about flying, kittens, smelling flowers and all things fluffy, just so long as your name has been verified, on the electoral role and your doing 50 hours a week flying.
Power to the People, and those that just dont give a damn!
Hey Brian, if your Canadian I remember you from some time ago, we met a few times on Clough and I seen you last at Blease at the start of this year.
Good to see you on here, if its not you, then piss off Mr bdoub, we dont want the likes of you round here, this a local site for local people who have the right name.
Foot note*
For the attention of the committee/Luftwaffe/SS. The last paragraph was in fact a joke, inappropriate, untastefull, corse or offencive take your pick, joke all the same.
Welcome bdoub
Everything in moderation, including moderation.
Not Canadian, now what?
Well, I'm probably the guy you met on clough and blease, but I'm not Canadian. You're either trying to be polite (to Canadians) or yer memory's slippin'.Hey Brian, if your Canadian I remember you
I'm ... yes, from that small nation south of Canada that everyone loves to hate. But don't worry, I'm ingratiating myself to the Cumbrians as I'm from a farming state, Indiana; lived overseas for more than 20 years; and now you can't get rid of me as I am a naturalized (naturalised?) citizen (citisen?).
Introduce yourself to me again next time we're on the same hill as I can't recognize (reconise) your face from your profile pic!
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colin keightley
- BHPA Club Coach
- Posts: 2483
- Joined: Fri Oct 12, 2007 5:22 pm
- Full Name: Colin Keightley
- Location: Stockton
- Contact:
Re: Not Canadian, now what?
The Brian I know (canny chap) I pestered him to death on Clough on our first meeting about sending me some pics of me flying, about 4-5 years ago now, as I was new, keen, and just so desperately wanted a photo of me flying to show my mum. You were right by the way they did turn out a little rubbish, but hey they were still photos, of ME, flying!! thanks for sending them, I was over the moon, mum was not so impressed.bdoub wrote:Well, I'm probably the guy you met on clough and blease, but I'm not Canadian. You're either trying to be polite (to Canadians) or yer memory's slippin'.Hey Brian, if your Canadian I remember you
I'm ... yes, from that small nation south of Canada that everyone loves to hate. But don't worry, I'm ingratiating myself to the Cumbrians as I'm from a farming state, Indiana; lived overseas for more than 20 years; and now you can't get rid of me as I am a naturalized (naturalised?) citizen (citisen?).
Introduce yourself to me again next time we're on the same hill as I can't recognize (reconise) your face from your profile pic!
Haunted by threateningly devastating good looks I am the sort that at first meet you hate, after a while you get to know and discover there's a twisted individual that you'd wished you'd never met in the first place.!
There can't be many Guy's in the lakes with your trans Atlantic twang Canadian? American? its somewhere over there. I have given flying up as a bad hobby and turned my attentions to making everyones life a misery on this website.
Everything in moderation, including moderation.
I’ve got to admit it Brian, I thought that you were Canadian, Perhaps it was that red uniform, and the way that you sang Rose Marie, and always got your man….
Now I will have to file you under the stars and stripe folio…..more work…Humbody hum!
Very nice to know you though….I love America, and everything American…..And if you come from Indiana….that’s even better……All the best songs have American place names……
”Indiana Wants me”…..R.Dean Taylor?
“This is the police, we have you surrounded, come out with your hands in the air”
“Home in Indiana”…..Some Jazz band….can’t think which…..Magic…just magic
The songs just never seem the same when you put in English place names….
“Seaton Sluice wants me”……..
“Home in Percy Main”……
I shot the sheriff…but I never shot the deputy
I shot the polis….But I never shot the constable……
No….The glitz goes out of the window, I just have to admit it.
You have the most wonderful place names, and they always seem to have the correct feel….If you know what I mean….Like….Superman comes from Smallville…everybody knows that….Could he ever come from Easington Colliery?….I doubt it
So….it must be a change for you now….waking up in the morning and gazing out of your bedroom window at the vast Wheatfield’s of Carlisle stretching all the way to the horizon….
You had better watch yourself with that Carlisle lot as well….Bad-hats all…Especially that Peter Rycroft,
Stick with us, Brian, we’re all canny lads…we don’t know anything at all about flying but we’re great at slagging people off…..You have met Fingers….?
Safe flying for you, is what we all wish….And we promise not to hold it against you, because you live in Carlisle!
Sorry if my range in music doesn’t pick up on your radar, when you where born in 1856, its hard to fit in to where it’s now at!
Now I will have to file you under the stars and stripe folio…..more work…Humbody hum!
Very nice to know you though….I love America, and everything American…..And if you come from Indiana….that’s even better……All the best songs have American place names……
”Indiana Wants me”…..R.Dean Taylor?
“This is the police, we have you surrounded, come out with your hands in the air”
“Home in Indiana”…..Some Jazz band….can’t think which…..Magic…just magic
The songs just never seem the same when you put in English place names….
“Seaton Sluice wants me”……..
“Home in Percy Main”……
I shot the sheriff…but I never shot the deputy
I shot the polis….But I never shot the constable……
No….The glitz goes out of the window, I just have to admit it.
You have the most wonderful place names, and they always seem to have the correct feel….If you know what I mean….Like….Superman comes from Smallville…everybody knows that….Could he ever come from Easington Colliery?….I doubt it
So….it must be a change for you now….waking up in the morning and gazing out of your bedroom window at the vast Wheatfield’s of Carlisle stretching all the way to the horizon….
You had better watch yourself with that Carlisle lot as well….Bad-hats all…Especially that Peter Rycroft,
Stick with us, Brian, we’re all canny lads…we don’t know anything at all about flying but we’re great at slagging people off…..You have met Fingers….?
Safe flying for you, is what we all wish….And we promise not to hold it against you, because you live in Carlisle!
Sorry if my range in music doesn’t pick up on your radar, when you where born in 1856, its hard to fit in to where it’s now at!
No...No..no...I wont hear any of it, Roger Whittaker would be turning in his grave, if I knew he was dead?.... is he?..... any how Roger dont you fret I wont forget the likes of;
Alfordsville Town......
Im gona leave old Alfordsville town...... BBBbbbuuururrrrrrupppppp (scratch that record off)
Streets Of Alamo
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Alamo .. BBBbbbuuururrrrrraaaaupppppp
The Fredericksburg Boat Song
Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Fredericksburg........................
I'll let you guys draw your own conclussions on that one.........
By the way Brian...... Watch out for Gary Stenhouse, he's Ginger. John Miller, he mostly eats noodles, and Brian Day....... he used to be a Head Master!!! Every one else in the club is fine apart from these three, but stay tuned as this line up might all change tomorrow.
Foot note;
Turns out Rodger is not only live and very well he is playing Albertslund (Copenhagen) on the 19th Sept. Go on Rodger.
Alfordsville Town......
Im gona leave old Alfordsville town...... BBBbbbuuururrrrrrupppppp (scratch that record off)
Streets Of Alamo
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Alamo .. BBBbbbuuururrrrrraaaaupppppp
The Fredericksburg Boat Song
Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Fredericksburg........................
I'll let you guys draw your own conclussions on that one.........
By the way Brian...... Watch out for Gary Stenhouse, he's Ginger. John Miller, he mostly eats noodles, and Brian Day....... he used to be a Head Master!!! Every one else in the club is fine apart from these three, but stay tuned as this line up might all change tomorrow.
Foot note;
Turns out Rodger is not only live and very well he is playing Albertslund (Copenhagen) on the 19th Sept. Go on Rodger.
Everything in moderation, including moderation.
Not to forget the Geordie anthem,
sung by a band famous for their Christmas concerts,
And the only song in the world to eulogise the Sickly Sausage Roll.
And the verse that no one ever gets right, which if carried out in public, is likely to get you arrested for a public order offence......
sung by a band famous for their Christmas concerts,
And the only song in the world to eulogise the Sickly Sausage Roll.
And the verse that no one ever gets right, which if carried out in public, is likely to get you arrested for a public order offence......
It is sad to measure your life in terms of hours flown...... but even sadder not to.........
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John Wallis
- Seasoned
- Posts: 4072
- Joined: Tue Dec 20, 2005 7:17 pm
- Location: Northumberland
All together....
Sittin' in a sleazy snack-bar
Snuckin' sickly sausage rolls
Slippin' down slowly, slippin' down sideways
Think I'll sign off the dole
'Cause the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
Could a copper catch a crooked coffin maker
Could a copper comprehend
That a crooked coffin maker's just an undertaker
Who undertakes to be a friend
And the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
Tell it to tomorrow, today will take its time
To tell you what tonight will bring
Presently we'll have a pint or two together
Ev'rybody do their thing
We can swing together, we can have a wee wee
We can have a wet on the wall
If someone slips a whisper that its simple sister
Slapped them down and slavered on their smalls
'Cause the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine ....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dF5xVnTo8gs
Sittin' in a sleazy snack-bar
Snuckin' sickly sausage rolls
Slippin' down slowly, slippin' down sideways
Think I'll sign off the dole
'Cause the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
Could a copper catch a crooked coffin maker
Could a copper comprehend
That a crooked coffin maker's just an undertaker
Who undertakes to be a friend
And the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
Tell it to tomorrow, today will take its time
To tell you what tonight will bring
Presently we'll have a pint or two together
Ev'rybody do their thing
We can swing together, we can have a wee wee
We can have a wet on the wall
If someone slips a whisper that its simple sister
Slapped them down and slavered on their smalls
'Cause the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine ....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dF5xVnTo8gs
Livetrack24 wannyjollis
“If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”
“If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”
Brilliant video John!
No shirt sponsorship back in those days.......
Reminds me of my yoof.
And then of course there is the other Geordie anthem, written in 1862 by Mr Geordie Ridley, to publicise an event that was to take place in Blaydon.
The first promo song?
No shirt sponsorship back in those days.......
Reminds me of my yoof.
And then of course there is the other Geordie anthem, written in 1862 by Mr Geordie Ridley, to publicise an event that was to take place in Blaydon.
The first promo song?
It is sad to measure your life in terms of hours flown...... but even sadder not to.........