Jack’s guest blog today – – –

Some friends came past the house yesterday, walking their dog, and we got in conversation. They had recently visited a small airfield that is home to a gliding club and that immediately set off a memory for me.

When I was about seventeen years old and heavily into building model planes, I saw an advert in the magazine I subscribed to. It was for gliding vacations at a flying club in Yorkshire. One week of lessons with accommodation and meals.

All my previous vacations had been family affairs by the seaside.

Off I set, by train, to Thirsk, and then by bus to the small village where the lovely old inn was situated, and where I’d be staying along with the others who’d booked up. The village was near the foot of a steep cliff, and the field that was home to the gliding club was on the top.

The way the days went were – after a large breakfast at the inn we got into an ancient land-rover and drove up the hairpin bends to the flying field (and sometimes I got to drive!). Then some theory lessons in the clubhouse, as delivered by the chief instructor, who was Polish and had flown Spitfires during WW2. He was a real character! Then a series of flights – each one starting by hooking the glider to a cable attached to a large winch, being hauled up to around 200 feet, releasing the cable, and then sailing over the cliff.

But then, wonder of wonders, it was like sitting in an armchair in the sky. No engine noise and no whirling propeller in front! Then the search was on for rising air, either a thermal of warm air or an updraft from the cliff face.

The gliders weren’t the sleek machines of today – this was the 1950s and the club had rather boxy Slingsby sailplanes with side by side seats – one for the pupil and one for the instructor. The factory where they were made was nearby, and one of our day trips was to see them being constructed.

The only scary moment I remember is when, as we were floating along at about a thousand feet, a twin jet RAF bomber screamed past us heading to a nearby base.

Ah – memories!

Come back next Wednesday for more from Jack