The North South Cup

This was the collective brainchild of High Miller, Jim Mallinson and myself.  We wanted a friendly competition between experienced XC pilots who just want to fly, have a good laugh, while pushing pilots skill and getting records.

May 13 marked the first ever competition between pilots from the North and the South, locked in friendly aerial and ground based battles to find who were the true victors of the skies and kings of the dance floor.  The north has the mountains and versatility, where as the south has the weather  and flatlands. The southerner’s skill at eaking out the light thermals and tracking with the  lift, really showed, as they came good in the first task from Milk hill , a elapsed time race to Crome, 239km away, in a line to pass major airspace.  Richard Bungay flew 116km and many passed the 70km mark. It was great to see such high caliber pilots flying so close and so politely together to get away from such a small site.

The next day dawned with strong westerly’s, so we headed up the Mynd and set a relay race speed flying task, one Km up the ridge and back, one on one, North v South! Even though one the southerner, Tom Payne, landed at the bottom and Richard Westgate landed in a tree, they still managed to beat us. How was that possible?

Back to the camp for some butch tug-of-war, and yes, of course the Northerners won that! Even though there was a bit of cheating from Wattsie, as he helped his crumbling Southern squadron.  Even the women got stuck in and mustered opposing teams, and yes we won that too. It must be all that scrubbing of the front steps on the terrace houses, up in Acrington Stanley, that built their muscle tone up.

Then came the slack line, of which we, being in tune with our bodies and dexterous muscle control, won, thanks to Phil from the Niviuk boys. The final task was the “dance off” at the party.  The southerners could have done with Patrick Swazey, because their team was whoefully short of willing dancers. So it was like taking candy from a baby when Marra strutted his stuff on the floor tonight, aow-yeah.

Although there was hope for the Sundays forecast, with a band of flyable weather that we could just launch in and surfed from the Mynd down to Cirencester, a British declared goal record. However it was not to be, the band dropped the wind from 55km down to 35, so it didn’t really help. So we had a raucous presentation, handed over the silverware to the victorious Southern Sqn, and boobie prizes to the boobies.  Then, after the hugs and hand shakes, we all cruised home in time for brew and buns up north, and tea and cakes down south. 

The defeated captain

Thanks to everyone for a great weekend and a real team effort from the marshals to the competitors.  It was a real pleasure to fly with you all.  Because this is a comp to fly to the max, next year we will be choosing from Milk in the south and Keswick in the south, at the last minute, to maximize the flyable conditions.