I get a text message from my friend Beat, “Rico, I know it’s a battle and unbelievable, but there’s an inversion. Sailplane pilots saying bad day for flying.” An inversion means the atmosphere is too stable for thermals to carry me upwards. I mentally prepare myself for a day of “sled rides”, just gliding down from launch.
Yesterday, I flew into the ski resort of Hoch-Ybrig. I’m fond of this place. When I was 14, I spent a week in ski camp here. Twelve years later, my best friend Dominic and I finally succeeded in our autodidactic quest to learn the SAT maneuver – an effort that could easily have ended in carnage.
If you’re wondering about the erratic line I’m following, check the DABS (Daily Airspace Bulletin Switzerland): The Swiss Army had cordoned off the valley next door for shooting practice. There are more elegant ways to make the news.
Today’s the last day I’ll enjoy the wonderful company of Michèle, who’s joined me on the last few days’ hikes. The wind is northerly, I’m anxious to find a launch that’ll allow me to fly into the south side of this ridge. Together we clamber up Forstberg (2215 m asl). the wind and the short steep slope align – kind of – before the sheer cliff drop.
Launching works out fine, and I’m gliding along the sun drenched cliffs above Muotathal. To my delight, I cam core the occasional thermal as long as I stay above the inversion. Above the lake of Klöntal – sandwiched between steep mountains and no place to land low – I land high on an alpine pasture and hike for an hour before launching out again, gaining sufficient ground in thermals to jump across the Linth valley of Glarus. I soar up the unpleasantly turbulent valley west face as much as I can before gunning downwind into the tight, windy lee of the Sernf valley, leading to the ski resort Elm.