World Record again?
The four of us—Lars, Cedric, Jerome, and I—had a few extra days to stay, and with Steffi and Andy’s approval, we could continue flying. On Saturday, we got up a bit later than usual, as our motivation had waned after all the recent challenges. But when we arrived at the airfield, the sky looked similar to the very first day, with lots of clouds signaling more humidity in the air.
We got ready quickly and were airborne soon after. Once in the sky, however, the day proved to be more challenging than expected, and Jerome landed early. I continued on alone, trying to follow Lars and Cedric. I took a more leftward line in an attempt to catch up with them. Fortunately, this turned out to be a lucky decision, as they both bombed out under large shadows, while I found a super-fast line under a cloud street. Unfortunately, the wind nearly died off later, and my speed dropped significantly. With fewer clouds and huge sinking areas, I eventually landed in Quixadá.
Sunday: We prepared later again but still tried to get airborne quickly. By around 7:00, Lars was towed up. We only had one winch for the three of us (Cedric had left by then), so logistics were a bit tricky. The sky looked slightly worse than the day before but still had some early cumulus clouds forming.
I was the second to launch and nearly landed right away. After yesterday, my mindset was more along the lines of “I’ll give it a try, but I’m fine with going to the beach,” as 14 days of bomb-outs had taken their toll. Thankfully, I spotted some Urubus and found a saving thermal, allowing me to connect with the clouds. I took a more westerly line than Lars and Jerome, which, once again, turned out to be the better choice as they both had to land early. My flight went smoothly with nice cloud streets until Patu, where the cloud highway just seemed to stop being built for me. Worse still, I found myself flying into blue skies again. “Not again!” I thought. It was pure luck that kept me aloft. Lars, on his second flight, didn’t make it through, but somehow, all the luck that had avoided me over the past days seemed to come together, and I managed to find a way out every time I got low.
Towards Jaguaribara, the clouds returned, and flying became a bit easier. The speed was still good (too slow to fly really far though), so I continued on toward the first turnpoint for the world record. It really helps to have an arrow pointing you in the right direction—now I understand Jerome’s comp-flying love.
After Quixadá, everything was new territory for me. I decided to keep some distance from the hills, considering the wind speed. But just before the first turnpoint, I really needed to gain altitude, and my only option was a large cloud forming over a slope on my right. Boom, cloud base again! Then, "bling!"—first turnpoint checked! Now, it was just about 30 km to the declared goal, passing two more turnpoints with a slight tailwind. The best line, though, was about 400 meters to the right of the turnpoints, while I was stuck in sinking air along the course. I had to focus for a moment, find the lift, and surf it toward the goal. One last thermal, and the final “bling!” sounded. I was thinking of how much I’d learned from Sebi and the entire team over these 15 days. Besides luck, you need the right day, the ability to read the clouds (if there are any), and of course, make good friends with the Urubus.
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