Any one of about eight events, had they not happened, would’ve gotten us home Sunday night as planned. Had we actually gotten up at 4, and not 4:15. Had we not stood around blinking quite so much instead of packing. Had we not had to go to a second gas station to avoid the lines at the first. Had we not driven through the Burger King next to the second gas station. Had Greg not ordered extra mustard. Had the gliders been quicker to pack at cargo. Had the construction and lines at the check-in not been so long. Had Greg not had to fill out some form at the rental agency about the tire. Had the gate been closer. Oops, that’s nine. We figured it was the mustard.
It was a matter of 2 minutes after the 10-minus-and-counting at the gate, and they ‘volunteered’ us to be bumped. We got $200 vouchers—cool, considering Rick and I didn’t pay for the tickets to begin with. But, once bumped, we became second-class citizens. We found a roundabout way to get home, via Oakland and LA, to Albuquerque or El Paso, San Antonio, and finally Dallas. But we got bumped in LA again, and that was about it. The best we could do was Albuquerque at 10 PM, and the first flight in the AM. We nearly missed that, due to the Budgethell not telling us quite the whole truth about the morning shuttle bus. A highlight, though, was Miguel from the Raddison (next door, stay there next time) drove us to dinner when it turned out the restaurant had closed. He even drove us back later when we called.
Even Monday morning, back in Dallas, the StuporShuttle driver tried to take me to Richland Hills instead of Richardson. I finally made it to work by 10:30. Back to Reality, which was Already in Progress.
Our gliders made the trip safely the next day.
Despite our failure to Not Suck, I think it was a worthwhile experience. I surprised myself by leading the Team, ending up 59th, right behind Patti, two places in front of Greg (61st). Rick’s ankle-saving last day zero certainly didn’t help his score, dropping him from 62nd to 70th. Rick and Greg were disappointed with their results, and even I didn’t get my Out of the Bottom Third goal of 54th.
I can’t really speak for Rick or Greg on this, as we each seemed to come out of it with a different outlook. It certainly was an ordeal at some points, I know I was dragging by the end of it all, and I didn’t have either the sore ankle or aluminum bill that Rick did. Watching a glider come down under canopy right next to you might be kind of uninspiring as well. Greg is disappointed with his glider, or perhaps with his vario (changed both at the same time, right before the comp—a no-no).
I guess I came out of it with a bit more positive slant. Sure, I sucked. The one day I made goal, more than half the field piled on around me. I didn’t make it any of the more challenging days. The gaggles are fierce. When a glider swept underneath me only 15 feet away in a gaggle over launch, my dedication got severely challenged. I didn’t know who it was until later, as one topless looks pretty much the same as another from the top. Ryan Glover approached me later (and he didn’t have to I suppose—although he got a real good look at my sail), it was just for both of us to sort of say, ‘yeah, that was close’ and just leave it at that. He wasn’t apologetic, nor was I. It’s just the way it goes when there are 30 gliders in the same thermal.
But even some of the top pilots have a fear of gaggles.
On the last day, I looked around and noticed that Greg and I, and only about 5 other gliders were all that were left on the hill. One other was Pete Lehman, which surprised me, as he is one of the top-ranked pilots. I joked with him, looking around at the empty launch, and asking, "what’s your hurry?" He said it straight: "I don’t like gaggles."
But I have to balance all the negative against how much I learned about competition flying. Once I started launching early enough (thanks, Rick), I was able to thermal with the best in the business. I even was in the top ¹ of the thermal with them. I witnessed (I wouldn’t go so far to say that I learned) the tactics of topping out a thermal, and taking advantage of others on course. I got to test my resolve and confidence level a few times, faced with unlandable terrain, with marked thermals, and no glide to a usable LZ. It’s a momentous thing, when you can rationally come to a decision that weighs disaster against the knowledge that you can, you will get up. Without being hypoxic or anything.
Text and photos © 1997, Phammer