A strange day today.  The weather forecast was the best yet: plenty of sun, higher temperatures, better lift, and a rarity here thus far: cumulus clouds. There was some concern about rain and thunderstorms, but these were predicted to stay well south and have little effect on tasks headed north. In celebration of this, longer tasks were set, sufficient – if things went well – to give us our first 1000-point days.

Things did not go well.  The launch was again delayed by weak lift, but got underway by 14:00, and indeed scruffy cumulus clouds were in evidence.  Conditions to the north were looking good.  But the problem weather to the south was quite evidently not staying where it should.  Satellite loops of cloud progress made it clear that our long-ish tasks would for many pilots likely end in farm fields.  Prompt starts are a rarity, but this threat from the south coupled with the inviting cumulus clouds to the north had pilots in the Standard class (the first to launch) start just as their task opened (around 15:00).  

The launch continued for the Club class, which was soon having problems finding lift in the cloud-covered tow release area.  In the face of this, it was not strange to hear a radio call that tasks for Club class and 15-meter class (whose launch had not yet begun) were canceled. What was seriously strange was the call a few minutes later that the task for Standard class was canceled – with a good number of pilots well out on course and starting to connect with promising soaring conditions. Canceling a task already underway is acceptable under WGC rules, but this is rare and understood to be reserved for extraordinary circumstances. Sarah’s thoughts turned to the idea that perhaps there’d been a midair collision.  But no, it was based on the intrusion of bad weather and the consequent chance of possibly difficult outlandings.

Standard class pilots got the word, and proceeded to turn their backs on the good weather to make their way home toward the bad.  A few didn’t quite make it. Sarah was among these, choosing instead of a super-marginal final glide home to land in a nice field about a 20-minute drive away (her fourth outlanding from five flights).  A bonus there was a crop of ripe blackberries in a line of bushes along the adjacent road.

Covid procedures at Montluçon-Guéret airport are about what you’d expect:  Masks are required at pilot briefings, in the communal food area*, and on the launch grid.  Compliance seems reasonably good when people are close to each other – a bit less so when not. I think officially masks are expected when in the glider tiedown areas, but as these are always sparsely populated, masks are not much in evidence.

Beyond the airfield, masks are required at all stores.  A recent – and very controversial – government rule covering all of France concerns the pass sanitaire  – a form attesting to the fact that the bearer has been vaccinated against Covid.  Beginning two days ago, this was officially required for admission to public places, including restaurants – and a restaurant that fails to impose this requirement on its guests is said to face serious penalties.  You can obtain this pass at a pharmacy – in our case by submitting US passport and Covid vaccination card.  But (as we learned this evening) the government website that offers the required forms isn’t keeping up with the level of traffic.  We were told by the pharmacist that if we left our passports and US vaccination forms with him, we could come back tomorrow and collect completed paperwork.  I agreed to this plan, which prompted Jason Arnold to say “So you’re telling me you left our passports in the hands of a French drug dealer?”  I did, and the (hoped-for) value of this (possibly naive) plan was seen later when we were barred from entry to a couple of restaurants that indeed require the pass sanitaire.  We at last found a take-out pizza place that did not.

*Except, of course while eating.  Not explained here or anywhere else (certainly including the 100% full airline flight across the Atlantic) is why the virus would be so sporting as to not take advantage of inevitable maskless nutrition interludes.

– John Good