Three Go Mad In Dorset

No it's not a comedy sketch for channel four television starring Jennifer Saunders et al.. rather it is the exploits of three keen slope soarers from the Midlands on their annual pilgrimage to far and distant lands in search of the superlative slope site. Roughly translated the chance to get away from the boss and enjoy beer and flying or is it flying and beer....?
Anyway let me introduce us we are three, Peter, a professional photographer, Colin, a rich retiree and myself, Carl a poor student nurse. We have all been sloping for many years flying mainly on the Long Mynnd and other local slopes.
For the last three years we have indulged ourselves in a summer flying camp. The first year we went to Wales to visit Brian Gower where we enjoyed wonderful hospitality, wonderful slopes and wonderful calm weather.
The second year we went to Devon to visit Stan Yeo where we enjoyed climbing to the top of wonderful slopes where we sat and enjoyed wonderful rain, oh and Stan did turn up to demo his new Stiletto, albeit briefly. (It must have been a good demo because we bought one each soon afterwards.)
This year we went to Dorset to fly on the Purbecks with Terry and Ricky White of Purbeck Sailplanes. I first met Terry twelve months ago on the Long Mynnd where I first saw his Graffiti and immediately ordered one.
To cut a long story short I built the Graffiti, visited Terry with a friend to fly the Graffiti but had a mid-air and wrote a wing panel off on the White Sheet before we even got to fly with Terry. Very kindly Terry agreed to provide a replacement wing panel and I promised to return later in the year with the repaired Graffiti and two different friends!
Armed with a hired Transit Van full of camping equipment and aircraft we headed for Dorset and our pre-booked campsite. Our plan had been to leave at about 5.00pm on Thursday night arriving early enough to pitch camp and then reconnoitre the area (find a pub). Unfortunately time overtook us and our plan changed slightly. We arrived at 10.30pm and were faced with a tough decision: pitch the tents and miss last orders or............well what would you do?
Anyway at 11.45pm we found ourselves on the campsite in pitch darkness trying to erect our tents - it's not easy to get an erect tent when under the influence. Colin had elected to sleep in the van for the duration promising not to rollover in the night, 'I hardly move at all when I'm asleep he promised.'
In the interests of security we locked the van doors and retired to our tents for what we hoped would be a good nights sleep.
Morning dawned and feeling absolutely knackered we awoke to find that we were camped in totally the wrong field and Colin had peed in the fresh water bottle.
'Not my fault,' he protested, 'when you locked the van doors it set the alarm. I daren't open the doors in case it went off'. Funny but the tea tasted funny all weekend.
So we broke camp, moved to the correct field and set about eating a hearty breakfast and repairing the damage to our planes. If anyone tells you they don't move in their sleep ignore them!
We had arranged to meet Terry that morning for directions to the right slope for that days wind. Most of the local slopes are southerly facing and we found ourselves with what was predominantly a north wind. 'Don't worry,' said Terry, 'by mid-afternoon the sea breeze will swing the wind onto our southerly slope. Come back this evening at 6.00pm we're having a barbecue.'
More in hope than belief we made our way to the recommended slope where we sat and waited for the sea breeze, and waited, and waited, and waited. It never came so we found a slope that faced north and managed a little flying for the day. Colin landed out down the hill and it took us a long time to find his model in the bracken. 'Mind the gorse on the right of the slope'. we told Pete.......too late, as he landed out in the middle of chest high gorse.
Colin had sandals and jeans, Peter had pumps and shorts, I've got the photographs of them stripped down to underpants changing trousers! Fifteen minutes later Peter returned, removed Colin's jeans put on his shorts saying, 'doesn't half make your groin sweat!' (groin is my word, Peter used a different one.)
Convincing ourselves that Terry had said that the barbecue started 8.00pm we thought we'd arrive early. Turning up at 7.45pm we were surprised to find it all over. Terry though relit the barbecue, fed us, and entertained us until late that evening with a succession of tall flying tales centred mainly on this mythical (to us at least) sea breeze and we entertained them with tales of Colin's almost legendary flying prowess. 
The second day, Saturday, started bright and early. We had a very philosophical discussion over breakfast trying to determine how it seemed as if we had been in Dorset for ever, even though it was only the second day!
Terry and his son Ricky joined us in the slope and by lunch time the sea breeze had indeed swung the wind around. This is a marvellous phenomenon, one I would not have believed if I hadn't experienced it.
Both Terry and Ricky were flying their new ASW27's. This is their latest kit and considering how little they had flown them we were all thoroughly impressed by their performance. Peter, no known for his extravagance when it comes to buying a new kit was heard to mutter, 'I must have one of those, I'm definitely having one of those.' Colin demonstrated to Terry and Ricky's disbelief some of his flying prowess. Peter and I mid-aired but with no damage.
A thoroughly good day flying was had and we retired late to the pub to relive the day. What more could a person want?
Sunday, nirvana, a sea breeze, good company, good flying. The ASW27's were demonstrated again and by this stage even Colin was planning what he would do with his, hypothetically, if he had one. Terry, looking worried, suggested flying lessons or a buddy-box lead! After a particularly distant landing Colin returned with a young lad in tow. Apparently Colin's plane had landed near to this lads mum and boyfriend who were getting to know one another. They had told Colin the lad was interested in planes and could he bring him back in half an hour! Colin undertook his duties with a degree of seriousness that surprised us all and after half an hour he returned nearly as worldly wise as his mum. 
Although we were not planning to return home until lunch time Monday, Terry and family had to return to work so we said our goodbyes to Terry and his family at the end of the day and promised to return next year if not sooner.
Monday, our last day dawned almost too soon. Breakfast again saw a philosophical discussion as to how it was that two days ago it felt as if we had been in Dorset forever, it now felt as if we had only just arrived. We broke camp and went for a last fly to the slope. In the absence of Terry and Ricky, Colin entertained some local onlookers by crashing (he calls it landing) close to them. Imagine our amazement when he returned from collecting his model to tell us that they had felt so sorry for him they had given him £5.00 towards the repairs.
The whole journey home was spent talking flying; stories just seem to get better the more you tell them, and planning how we could convince our wives that it would make much more sense to go for a whole week next year.
Oh and that demo of the ASW27's, well it must have been a good demo because we've just ordered one each!