The Blériot Cup 2007
This year the Blériot was set in the picturesque region of Limoges in central France. The landscape is pretty much how you might expect 16th century Britain to have looked; very green with large forested areas stretching as far as the eye can see. September 2nd was a training day but we spent it driving from the British Nationals at St. Andre. After an initial mix-up, having been sent to the wrong location for the reception, we finally arrived at Treignac to be greeted by the organisers, their Mayor, the local TV and media network and over 50 local dignitaries. They all wanted to ask us (in French naturally) everything we knew about paragliding! Needless to say this was not much…
Our team comprised me, Dave Shields, as captain, old hand Tony Stephens on his third year in the Blériot team, and Ben Hull-Bailey who had previously competed a few years ago. Myles Kynaston made his second appearance accompanied by his brother Olly, the comp virgin. Sam Hull-Bailey was unable to attend having broken his neck in a downwind landing the previous week. It would have killed anyone else, but being superhuman he is expected to shake it off in a month or two! In his absence Super-Sub Patrick Buxton stepped in to save the day.
Day one.
Light north-west winds meant we could fly the area's main site, Le Suc au May. It is a clearing in the woods on an aerial access road, and the bottom landing field was a rather interesting small sloped field surrounded by 90ft trees. The day was grey and proved to be very stable with rain forecast for later. An optimistic task was set that would take us over Correze and on to a goal south of Tulle at 51km.
Fabien, task winner on Day 3 at St. Andre, was first in the air closely followed by Ben and Myles. The wind dropped to nil and, on such a shallow launch, the rest of us were forced to just watch as the three of them explored the air, managing to stay aloft for nearly half an hour before a sink cycle downed them all. Just ten or so minutes before the window closed we were gifted enough of a light upslope breeze to tempt us to launch. In the ensuing scramble six hang glider pilots and most of the paragliders got airborne. Frantically searching around, I found a 1-up and made it above hill height to join Pat in a climb that would see us leave all the other hangies behind.
Weaving in between the paragliders, we managed to hit cloudbase at 3,500ft (only 2,000ft agl), and with just 5km/h drift immediately set off downwind. Unfortunately the paragliders' task took them crosswind so we lost our thermal markers. Back on the hill Tony had an exciting approach into the bottom landing field - apparently the look on Ben, Myles and Tim's faces as they dived out of his way was priceless! In the overcast conditions I only managed 12.8km, activating the hangie task, and Patrick scored a respectable 9km. The paragliders fared better, scoring 28km. Both British teams scored significantly better than our French counterparts.
Day 2.
We drove south again, this time to Bros near Argentat, a stunning-looking site with a clearing in the woods just wide enough for a rigid wing to launch. It too was surrounded by forestry as far as the eye could see. There were generally fields in the river valleys large enough to put a hang glider in provided you were careful. Being too windy for paragliders, it was up to us to maintain the lead.
With light winds again we had to pick our moment. I spotted the trees below start to sway and went for it. I managed to launch right into the sink surrounding the lift and was halfway down the 400ft top-to-bottom before I hit the thermal. Still attached to the hill, I followed it until, nearly at take-off, I was leapt upon by Ben, Olly and three French pilots who seized the moment. As I passed take-off the thermal released from the hill and all six of us climbed steadily out. Meanwhile Tony followed a different core with one of the French, and as it died out they pushed back towards the hill. Tony made it but the French pilot just didn't have the glide and had to push into the river valley where he promptly landed. Olly, Ben and I outclimbed the French pilots and decided the best tactic was to man-mark them out of the sky. The climbs topped out and the French pilots each went in different directions. I followed Francois, the French captain, as he sped off on track and took care to stay within glide of him whilst maintaining a little more height. This paid off as he was soon on the ground at 22km, at the edge of a forested area too large to attempt gliding over. I made a couple of kilometres further before having to head back for a safe landing.
From the ground I could see two gliders climbing out a kilometre or two away and was inspired to hear Olly chirping back on the radio. He was climbing well and had the measure of his French counterpart. Back on the hill things were a little grim for Myles as he had gone straight down. However our paragliders rallied around and dragged him kicking and screaming back up the hill for another go with minutes to spare. Pat was having a nightmare with his glider; apparently the air around him was as blue as the thermals! Tony had set off once more alone and managed around 20km, as had Ben. We heard later that Tony's landing was spectacular if nothing short of a-maize-ing! Reports came back that Olly, the comp virgin, had made goal thereby winning the day! Better still, so had Pat, though they never saw each other as the goal was set as a whole kilometre radius to ensure safe landings in this remote location. Myles on his second attempt came third with 35km putting the Brits, with first, second and third, firmly in the lead. We had beaten the French, pilot for pilot, right through the team.
The next few days were blown out for both disciplines but we still drove to different sites each day, hopeful for a change in the conditions. All of the sites were pretty spectacular and on the right day would be a dream to fly. Sadly we were a little too late in the season. With the flying kicked into touch the French threw a barbecue party for us at their encampment. Needless to say it turned into a competition! The main disciplines closely followed the Olympic format: table racing, bottle walking, arm wrestling, wine snorting and the old favourite, picking up the cork from behind the chair leg without touching the floor. Everyone had a great time, reflected by the general malaise the next day.
Day 3.
The final day proved again too stable and calm. The forecast sent us to Bros, where a hugely optimistic 50km task was set. With the pressure on the French to pull something out of the bag, we marked time as we marked our men and waited for the French to launch. We waited… and waited… and finally after two hours the French requested an extension to the window so we could wait some more. Incredibly, none of them tried early launching on the final day when the onus was on them to fly. All we had to do was stay on the hill until they launched.
After yet another extension and no activity they had missed their opportunity for relights, and in the closing minutes mayhem erupted. The frenzy of 24 hang gliders and paragliders using the same tiny area to launch must have been a treat for the spectators. Everyone who launched bottom landed except Patrick who decided upon a bit of 'on the fly' bird spotting in the bushes at launch!
A good time was had by all, and for the fourth successive Blériot Cup we emerged victorious. With us winning the Blériot, Bruce Goldsmith as World Paragliding Champion and the Brits as World Hang Gliding Team Champions in the same year, who said we don't win anything?
Report by Dave Shields
