Ed does it again! Beating his own marathon hiking record, he adds a few flown kilometres onto a (very) long walk, completing half the course! John braves crazy South Africans and rain showers to get the Truleigh run in the bag.

15 July Ed Bewley (Truleigh to Beachy Head)

Story of attempt No. 2.

The short version: Went for a very long walk and did not a lot of flying, just like last time. Got tired legs and blister precursors and ended up in a pub drinking Harveys, just like last time. Carried two GPS units and recorded a track log: not like last time.

Ed and beachy mushroom

The longer version for those who like a bit of detail (but don't expect any edifying lessons):

The forecast looked promising and Greg’s ever-optimistic enthusiasm had persuaded six at least of us that meeting at the Dyke at 6 am would be an excellent idea. When I arrived just before 6 am, there was little to be seen except fog and John Turczak looking less than enthusiastic. However, the fog was beginning to disperse, and by the time Greg and Tracy arrived bang on 6 am things were looking better. What I did not know was that the timing was aimed at driving to Truleigh and flying (or running) back to the Dyke for 8 am for Carlo and Greg to fly some tandem passengers. So without delay, 6 of us and gliders piled into Greg & Tracy’s car ( I won’t go into the precise detail; suffice it to say that Tracy spent some of the journey in a supine attitude) and parked up below Truleigh.

A very dew-soaked walk up was followed by the onset of the rain that Carlo’s phone had reliably predicted. This was not enough to deter the intrepid Greg, who was airborne in the twinkling of a raindrop. Since I had foolishly got my wing out and it was already damp, I felt obliged to follow him, and shortly after found my foot unaccountably tangled in my harness. This distracted me from the main aim of staying aloft to the extent that I failed to turn back onto the windward slope and disappeared round the corner to sink onto the slope in an untidy heap. So, realising that walking was probably the better option at this stage, I stuffed the damp and heavy wing into its bag and set off for the Dyke on foot.

It appeared out of the murk reassuringly soon, but still with a low cloudbase. I decided, despite Greg’s exhortations to fly, to carry on to Ditchling on Shanks’ pony, hoping that the wind would not go west before I got there. The weather improved steadily as I crossed the A23 and rejoined the Downs edge, and passed quite a few walkers.

Miraculously at Ditchling the wind was still on the hill, so I quickly unpacked and got airborne. The ridge was only just working, and various trees had to be avoided.

Forest inspection

 

One slope landing and a walk-up led to another short scratch to Plumpton, where the wind and ridge direction discouraged further efforts to fly, and the footslog started again. Down through the centre of Lewes and up to the golf course, taking the longer but more scenic route to Caburn, where the wind was borderline, Call me a wimp, but I did not fancy providing light entertainment for the hardy souls braving the breeze on top. So back down to Glynde and out past the Sussex school to trudge up to Firle. Support arrived just before the top in the form of Julia, my wife, who had taken the 77 bus from Brighton out to the Dyke to pick up the car. She delivered me my favourite delicacy, a panettoncino from Caffè Nero, which tasted exceedingly good. She then drove round to Bo Peep, where I was regaled with a Montezuma chili chocolate ice cream and exotic fruit juice from Middle Farm.

 

What a wizard really wants is

Six sites and still early afternoon, so my plan was to drop down into Alciston, have tea with Julia, then carry on to High & Over. At this point Carlo called to say that Greg was not far behind me, so I thought I had better keep up the pace. As it happened, I missed the rendezvous with Julia in Alfriston and neither of us had a phone signal, so it was after High & Over when we re-established contact. Meanwhile Greg was sending texts to suggest that he was hot on my heels, so I thought that honour obliged me to carry the contest to Beachy Head, which would link the extremes of the route and bag 8 sites.

 

I had a brief consultation with my feet and legs, which seemed less than keen on this idea, but after the promise of Harveys and hot bath they grudgingly agreed to stay with me. As I knew the route from the other direction, I was not looking forward to the Friston Forest section. I had a penultimate rendezvous with Julia at the Seven Sisters Centre at Cuckmere Haven, then tramped through Friston Forest. Somehow my second wind cut in, and the legs felt pretty good, which was just as well, since the last mile was through atrocious mud and puddles.

 

Mirkwood

Greg had arranged for Tracy to meet me at Friston Church with food and drink. The uncharitable thought that he might have spiked it with a retarding agent briefly flashed through my mind and was rejected, and I was very grateful for the ginger beer, crystallised ginger and a peach. So now I had two support ladies running round after me: wonderful!

The last stage through East Dean and was easy enough, and the high point was where the path plunges into an enormous field of ripening barley through which you walk with the crop swishing around your legs. In the final field before the hotel at Beachy I found a ring of field mushrooms and picked a good specimen, which I presented to Julia on arrival. Not as romantic as flowers, but more edible. So after just over 12 hours en route, I thought I had earned a pint of Harveys Best. Greg and Tracy joined us for a drink and a meal, and the day came to a convivial close.

Pretty long walk

More photos here

15 July John Turczak (Truleigh to Dyke)

Daily checking of RASP during the preceding wet  and windy days had Sunday 15th looking quite good - not entirely sure if the preceding wet days made RASP look better or not.

With  predictions of an early NW going SW around lunchtime  it made sense to start early at Truleigh and aim to be at Caburn for when it changed direction. So the plan went meet at the Dyke for 6 am, take as few cars as possible to Truleigh, walk up and take off and get back to the Dyke for when it got more thermic then off to Ditchling.

Left home at 5.15, sun shining, the odd cumulus , looked very promising.

Arrived at the Dyke to find this:

Video Link of fog at the dyke
 

Anyway, by 6 am 6 of us had arrived - Carlo, Nancy, Greg, Tracey, Ed and myself.
We all  bundled into one car, an achievement in itself, and went off through the flooded roads to Truleigh.

There were murmurs about rain approaching on the Radar, but up we went anyway. And bang on queue as we arrived at takeoff it started to rain. Undaunted by this Greg then Ed took off in the rain. The rest of us waited for it to stop and then started our flights back. We pretty much made it to the power lines then had to land and walk past them as not enough lift.

I decided to walk to the bowl at the Dyke from there. This was after seeing Nancy brave it with a flight that took her to the bottom landing field.

By the time Tracey and I got to the bowl the cloud had lifted enough that we could see the Dyke take of (just). And inspired by Greg and Carlo flying past we took off.

It  was flyable then for a couple of hours. Around 11.30 it got thermic after the sun finally broke through. I made it about 700 meters towards Ditchling before bombing out and headed back and landed at the bottom.

After some kind passerby offered me a lift back to the top. I decided to turn off the GPS and call it a day on the Foot and Fly.

2 sites done and 4K. An improvement.

As a note Ed just kept going and made it all the way to Beachy. Unbelievable!