Marcus and Eva are leaving tonight and taking their reserve with them. Izekiel, who is Jose’s best friend and one of the local instructors, has ordered me a reserve bag, but Spain being Spain, there’s more chance of finding a crackhead in the Vatican than it coming in the morning, even though we have already been waiting a week or so. One of the Swiss accro guys who have been hanging out here breaks a bone in his wrist in a top landing accident on the dodgy rocky surface that looks so minor you wouldn’t believe such a thing was possible. Its a small but painfull fracture that will need 3 weeks to heal. Bummer. I’m thinking I need a smaller wing and have to visit England for a short time soon so will see what’s for sale at our club. A small DHV 1 methinks squire. Marcus and Eva come by that evening to say goodbye, leave me a copy of some of our flying including my laundry day and yesterdays dodgy top landing and begin a long drive back to Germany promising to keep in touch. They are cool peeps and I hope they do.

Deep Thought

Cool day today. Brekky with avocado and eggs...shopping..l.z... lots more heli attempts...my form is the same and I seem to have reached a sticking point. I am not sure exactly why....All the advise I get is very similar and what I thought I was doing anyway. Funny weather today with huge cumulous cloud early but no o.d ... All around the local mountains have extremely threatening dark cumies above but here things are lovely. The overdevelopment all around just dosent reach us,light rain is even visible in the neighbouring valleys and we fly all day in bright sunshine again. Magic Mountain. I think tomorrow I’m gonna try spin to heli just out of curiosity..I am beginning to think, as I always do when I have trouble learning something, that my tools are just not up to the job as some others have suggested but soon realise after so many good helis that just can’t be and as usual it’s me. There is also a guy here doing the biz on a fullsize Airwave Mustang so wot da fuk? I have spoken to lots of people to try to get a clue as to what may be amiss but the same info seems to being repeated. Get a smaller wing. Practice. I remember consistent thermalling giving me a very hard time a while back too and although I spoke to lots of very helpful people to overcome it in the end it was a hundred small things that needed changing and the only way to really improve was surprise surprise, more flying.

I eat with Marcus and Eva that evening drinking some unnamed German firewater around a campfire the size of which will never be repeated without malice by sober people...Marcus has been in Spain many times guiding groups and marks all the sites he knows of on my map including quite a few in Portugal. The drums tell us that night the guy from yesterday has a broken hip and will probably quit flying. So his life is over anyway really with no flying huh? Told you. I may as well have pinched his nose.

The slow release after the deep stall seems to be working better as an entry to the heli but im still wondering how to get it right 10 out of 10 like some seem to be able to. My form is very inconsistent...maybe 3 or 4 out of 10 but there seems to be no rhyme or reason why...I still have lots to learn. After resting on launch an hour or so the late afternoon and evening produce wonderfully smooth symphony of magic lift which is not much good for the kind of height you need for accro but mucho relaxing hands off flying especially after the usual daytime thrash metal.

. I get to launch at around 3...the earlier helis are very tentative and touchy feely after the previous events...2 or 3 wobbly revs max and an exit...probably a little post traumatic stress as much as I loath to admit it. I saw a lot of this type of thing after ‘nam. I am still not entirely sure why things went so badly wrong those two days earlier...the late afternoon though sees me settle down with much more success and lots of good helicos for loads of revs and more pilots than of late to boot. There are also a load of cock ups as usual but nothing a bit of cussing and a lot of heaving on the brakes wont take care of...and to be honest I am now so used to seeing my wing performing origami and making loud flapping noises that even these damage control and recovery measures have become a lot of fun to fly. They are also making me feel so much safer in the long run as I am now feeling that there is nothing normal flight can throw at me I wont be able to handle. As a wise man once said if accro was easy it would be called cross country. I fly some hi G loops to celebrate and top land happy for a rest...this in itself is no mean feat when the mountain is working its magic as the amount of lift here means approaching from 50 meters below, doing a 180 low over launch and fullstalling in...you may not get it right first time...you may not get it right every time...you may not get it right...mine this time was a little bit of a whoops, crash”...I’M OK!!!...”

All Ahead Slow

Found a shop in town that sells baked beans, which, as all nutritionists know are the cornerstone of any complete brekky so feast even better this morning...sort out a few adaptors at a local store that has everything for plumbers and gas fitters run by an English speaking Spanner. The Skylark, as regular readers of these pages will know is a well equipped and completely self sufficient living space but does need gas and water...different countries have different fittings for hoses bottles etc so I spend this morning converting my American gas inlet with a quick release and hopefully gas tight adaptor to fit the Spanish bottles.

Its Worse Than That He's Dead Jim!!!

When I say headfirst into the nearest rock, dear reader, I do not mean the bushes or the shingle or a loose rocky surface. I mean he’s has taken on the hot, hard granite mountain itself and lost. I unclip and climb the 10 meters to him down and across the mountain, just on time to find him regaining consciousness, straining for breath and wheezing like a stuck pig. The last time I heard anything like that one of the guys lungs had collapsed. Oh dear. He is also stuck on his side with one leg in a very funny (peculiar not ha ha) and painfull position trapped underneath him. Oh dear. I remove his loose fitting helmet to make him a little more comfy. There is a lump on his canister and the red red vino is flowing freely. He can barely move let alone stand but insists he’s ok and dosent need an ambulance. Being in shock will make you say the craziest things. I really want to go fly and it crosses my mind when I get to him and see the state he’s in that I don’t know the emergency service number anyway, I’m the only one who knows he’s here and, as he dosent want an ambulance, I could just pinch his nose and mouth, end his suffering, and get clipped back in. Nothing personal you understand, I just want to fly. Wot??? Come on! Hes well over 60 by the look of him, his best years are way behind him. Still, it’s been a long time since I killed anyone so I decide to call Jose in the landing field for a nee nur. Thats the flying day over really. Honestly, bloody Germans. First Poland and now this. Still at least the weather has let me put my shorts back on and I spend the rest of the day loafing in the L.Z with Jose and our friends Estrella and San Miguel (t.m.) who are always nice to us. There’s always tomorrow. Jose and I have been invited to eat at Mickey’s tonight. Mickey is the school and l.z’s big boss and has laid on a feast. We roast lamb and beef over his open fire with baked potatoes and salad with lashings of cold cold beer. Ol'e Mickey