Can you take me higher?

Of the seven solo flights that I managed during my CP course, the seventh one remains my favourite. I had already done a short flight earlier in the day and managed to top-land on Tower Hill. It was afternoon when I prepared to launch again. It was a bit thermic and the wind conditions had stabilized a bit after a gusty while. Ash, Kunal and Anand had already launched themselves and were soaring for sometime now. My attempt at launch was foiled by a strong gust and I prepared to launch again. The wind favoured my launch this time around and I was up there among the air traffic. Instructions from Steve were pretty clear that we were to fly with little or no instructions from him and any time we felt uncomfortable, we had to head towards the landing field. We were all flying around for a good while soaring by the ridge and occasionally drifting away to hunt for thermals.

About half an hour later, I saw that the surrounding sky was devoid of gliders save few, including mine. But I was sinking soon and my various attempts at scratching around for any thermal was in vain and I knew that before long I would have to head for the landing field as well. Even as I started to veer towards the landing field, Steve’s voice came alive on the radio instructing me to do just that. With a heavy heart (that seem to be pulling the glider to the earth even more), I steered the glider. And then it happened. I suddenly felt a tug on the glider as I got lifted momentarily. It was as if some giant had pinched the wing, pulling it up before releasing it again. All this while when I was hunting for the thermal, I couldn’t find it and now as I headed for the landing I had encountered it. I cursed as I was torn between two choices. I could either ignore the incident altogether and begin to approach the landing OR at the risk of offending Steve, turn around to take one dig at the thermal. At that very instance, Steve’s voice came over the radio acknowledging the lift and further instructing me to turn left and back into it again. Steve then instructed me over a series of 360s and I could feel my glider rising. Occasionally, during the 360s, when Steve urged me to pull more on the left brake, I was awestruck and the feeling that I was rotating almost parallel to the ground was overwhelming and it was accentuated whenever I saw a major portion of my wing out of the corner of my eye without any attempt at looking towards it. My heart was pounding in frenzied excitement as I continued executing 360s and rising with every maneuver. When, finally, Steve asked me to fly straight, I glanced about. Even as I was executing the 360s, I didn’t imagine that I would gain so much height. The launch area was directly below me and from where I was (approx. 300 mtrs above it), people appeared the size of ants. The landing field was a distant spot at approx. 500 mtrs. I did a 3-dimensional survey of my neighbourhood and with only my feather-winged friends for company, I settled in the harness to enjoy solitude in space, grasping the vastness of the horizon as far as my eye could behold. I was in the air for another good twenty minutes after which I had descended to a point where I had to head for the landing. Now I was satisfied with my flight so much so that if I had to encounter another thermal, I would have simply acknowledged it with a nod and continued on my course toward the landing field. Rather, this behaviour could be attributed to the fact that I had drained the contents (water) in my camel-bak during my flight and the liquid had percolated to my bladder and was trying to force its way out against my will. I executed a perfect landing in cross-wind conditions and after unfastening my harness straps, I headed to pay nature a visit.