Cool Flying...

My first was a crash; unsurvivable. In the second attempt at landing the pilot would have certainly suffered serious, possibly life threatening injuries. The third might have left him with a good few broken bones, and the last he may well have staggered out with cuts and bruises. Almost certainly he would, in every case, have perished in the snow.

For it was a cold, brilliant day in the far north, about five miles from Kylesku on the road to Cape Wrath, and we had a Weasel with us, dating from around 1980 by the looks of it, and a brand new Zulu, the ones with the drooperons on the leading edge.


Enough about the landings, how about the flying? Superb and great lift, with views north to die for (as indeed the pilot of the Weasel might well have done).

The Weasel, an old version and much patched and battered, performed amazingly well, its age hardly a factor in its ability to loop and roll and do weaselly things.

The Zulu needed more throws on the drooperons, as it was so slow in the roll. The ailerons and leading edge flaps are directly linked, which gives enormous leverage. If they are adjusted right. I reckon I had too much aileron and too little drooperon, which made it very hard to roll. After a few flights the arrivals were getting a little too close to total destruction, so I borrowed the wing commander's Weasel, reversed the elevator (he flies upside down and none the worse for it) and had some great flights.

My landings, however... Must have been the huge throws he flies with, which makes it super twitchy, with no dual rates and no expo. Or me.

After which he took over, I walked Bran in the snow and watched him make a three point, perfect landing at his feet (that's Gordon and the Weasel, not Bran the pointer). It's only a Weasel, but we at the Highland RC Gliding Club try and treat all our planes, glass epoxy, foam veneer or foam with respect. Bastard.

A Typical Day at the Slope

Ring any bells? Weather forecast suggests strong southerlies, and there's that brilliant slope up near Rosehall, you know the one you can drive to the top in a Land Rover. Pack the car with an Alpina 4m, K21, Simprop Excel 4004 and various small stuff and head east.

Wind appears to be very light but things are so often different once you get to the ridge. Half an hour's drive or so, turn left into the farm, head for the gate and. Guess what? Locked. Something to do with timber lorries and public safety. Bollocks.

Head back west and stop at another locked gate below the ridge and decide, nothing ventured. Trek up the hill, over ground pitted and ruptured by plantation work to reach the road at the top. No wind to speak of, and what there is is coming from the south east, 45 degrees to the slope. Bollocks.

Back down the treacherous slope and into the car. Head west to Oykel Bridge where there's a flat field and a south facing bump behind it. Open the flask. Drink coffee and eat an oat cake or two. Ah well, at least we got a walk, and without breaking a leg. No wind. Can't be bothered to fly off a flat field anyway. Bollocks. Triple bollocks.

Head west again. At Lubcroy the grass verges are stirring. Wing commander orders the car stopped, puts compass on grass stem and announces "definitely a southerly" and if it's this strong down here...

Trek up an easy path to the ridge; ten minutes later rewarded by the glorious sight of a south facing slope, brisk southerly and building, blue skies and fluffy clouds.

Up goes the Exel.

Up goes the Alpina.

Flyflyflyfly... land land land (grassy, soft, flat, no rotor).

A day that started with hope, went from bad to worse, turns out brilliant.

That is the agony and the ecstasy of slope soaring in the Highlands, indeed anywhere.

Ring any bells now?

Alpina on the Flat

Summer's drawing to a close and sailing will soon give way to gliding. We have been out whenever we can but there's too much going on to devote maximum time to flying.

But we did fly the Alpina off the flat. It's either very big or that fellow is very small. Probably the latter...

Magic Day: the Alpina Takes to the Skies at Long Last

Glorious easterly, fabulous sky, warm and bright, with the prospect of a pint at the end of the day. What more could anyone want? The Alpina, newly electrocuted, finally took to the skies. And took to them without the slightest need for power. She rose, she flew, she banked, she turned, she looped and landed. What a sweet flying plane. What elegance, presence, weight. Well. Not so weighty: 4.545kg, consisting of a few grams of ballast in the nose, an Xpower long shaft motor from Topmodel (highly recommended); Hyperion 4s Lipo and a Hobbywing Platinum 80A ESC. Better than 700g of lead in the nose. 

Meanwhile the Mini Vector was wrung out by the Wing Commander, after which we shook hands, smiled and headed back down to the Oykel Bridge Hotel for a bar meal and a pint. The end of a perfect day.

Copyright Asher Svidensky

 Mind you, this is what I call flying. A young Kazakh girl flying an eagle. Radio control? Pah.

Another Perfect Day

Let's just see some photos this time; fewer  words. A Mini Vector and a Simprop Solution on a north easterly overlooking the Oykel.

A word from the WingCo: "Nice easy walk today, small light glider. Patchy lift to start with, and lucky to get down alive. Both landed side onto the slope as the lift vanished under a grey woolly blanket."

But we persevered. And the sun came out. The cloud disappeared and the lift increased. Two good flights from the Solution and a masterful display of aerobatics from Tally Ho Taylor; rolling circles; square loops; knife edge inverted tunrs but "sometimes not quite sure which way to push the sticks". Photographer in fear of his life at times.

And here are the photos to prove it.

Just a Perfect Day...

 A perfect day, in the end. Two scale gliders against a nice sky and plenty of lift. Worth the trudge up the hill, although it didn't feel like it half way up with Taylor grumbling about the weight of his K*****8.

Perfect? Not that it dawned as such. An aborted trip to the East, a spell back in the workshop where I build wooden boats, then back to the slope; this time the clouds had cleared and the slope just got better as the afternoon drew on.

Just two planes: Flair K8, built by Wing Commander "Tally ho" Taylor and my FlyFly Fox. What a beautiful sight: two semi-scale gliders in the air at once. Makes you wonder why anyone bothers with sticky things with pointy noses.

As for sticking silly little pilots up from (let alone straps, hat, full gliding gear and even a copy of Glider Porn tucked into the map pocket) can't see the point. There was, however, a silly-looking duck up front of the K8, looking suitably petrified as he was flung around the sky.

The Fox is a revelation. Lands like a feather with crow brakes deployed. And flys superbly. Not overly fast, which suits me fine, but has great presence in the sky.

No faults; no tip stalls and almost too easy to land, which may come back and bite me on approach, advises the WingCo if I come in too low on the downwind and lose speed on the final turn. PS Might add the orange decals on the side for the next flight.

Bit of a b***er climbing the hill and they are in the process of planting trees. Will there be any slopes left for our children to fly little aeroplanes in future? A few years left before the lift is affected. Trees are fine and we have would have no trouble with the subsidies that go with them for "improvement to amenities" if they could, perhaps, include a nice path to the top for the not-getting-any-younger members of the Highland RC Gliding Club.

Another Day Another Hill (well Two in Fact)

As the wreckage of the Salto was consigned to the bin, another day dawned bright and North Westerly, so to Benmore we went with Mini Vector, Fox and Phase 6.

After a very promising launch, with endless lift, all of a sudden a massive downdraught and hasty landing. Somewhat alarming, considering what a brilliant slope it can be. Was it the trees or the cold air coming off the sea? Discretion won and the Fox was packed away without a flight, just as the conditions improved. It would have flown, if I had held my nerve.

Then it became blustery and rather unpleasant flying, so the Phase 6 and Mini Vector were also packed away and off we set for the Dam Lochs above Strathkanaird where the lift was smooth and stable, albeit the landing was as usual treacherous.

Commit to the skies, be brave, and all was fine. The landing, sharp turn down wind, through the sun, full flaps and reflexed ailerons, and into the back of the slope. No bother.


Three flights and time to go home. We had won the day.

PS The Salto will fly again with a new set of veneered foam wings with a sensible section. Something to keep me busy in the winter.