Arriving just after 10, I saw several gliders already doing well. A short early flight left me chilled through, so I put on two pairs of inner gloves under big outers, with a disposable heat pack in each, as well as one in a chest pocket. That made life in the air just about bearable. Hight had become harder to come by until a gaggle found ourselves in a steady climb, with three higher up and Nik Valiris, a blue and orange Advance and I chasing them.

The first climb fizzled out for us at just under 3,000, with the leaders still higher. After a short glide Nik caught them up, with the Advance and me climbing underneath them. On glide, I was reluctant to push bar because I knew the extra airspeed would chill me even more, but it had to be done. I fell away from the Advance and got low on my own, but a climb near Whitchurch turned good and Nik came to join me again. From there we glided to the A303 under increasing spreadout, with Nik almost managing to work a low save over what became our landing field.

I thought my heat packs had failed, but in fact they were still warm; without them I might have had to land earlier (they were still warm when I got home just before 1800, a good seven hours after I opened them)

The farmer came to make sure we weren't unauthorised ramblers, but didn't offer us a lift, so we set off to walk the couple of miles to Micheldever station. Trains to Winchester, Reading and Hungerford were followed by a very kind lift up the hill from Steve Spring.

It was my first British cross-country in February. It looks as if the rotten winter is truly over!