My flying career has been a mirror image of that story, filled with thrills and experiences that I find hard to describe.
This Wednesday was one of them. Approximately 3 months ago I undertook an epic two hour journey to fly from Kliprivier to Brits. It scared the heeby jeebies out of me just thinking I had to fly thru controlled airspace and I adopted to fly around it. I opted to fly from Klip to Carletonville and then on to Brits.
Mountains are bad. I was taught you fly OVER them, DON'T try to fly through them. Thus, mountains scare the living crap out of me. They ARE bad. The Magalies ridge is not really a mountain but still to me they are a major obstacle. I respect them, I fear them, I loathe them...
Needless to say I ventured into the void on Wednesday and I took the plunge and I went over the ridge... My pulse was racing, every sense accute and truly waiting for that leeside effect. Nothing happened, smooth as a baby's behind, awesome - glorious... wow - what a damn dam... Green as my lawn, but I made the leap to cross over. I stayed high and quickly went back to safety but I have met my arch nemesis with glee. I feel that I have won the match. But this is not a match between me and the mountain - I fully know that the mountain has stood the test of time, she wins no matter what you throw at her.
Respect.
Trust in your skill. If the conditions outperform your envelope - write mom a letter and admit that the windsock outperformed your experience. Tomorrow is always a better day to fly when the windsock blows as hard as you want it to.
I had two people out here from our UK office and took them flying on Wednesday, 9 August 2006. I took the first one up - took her OVER the Magalies!!! Surely most of you are aware of my enormous fear I have of that "enormous" ridge!
Courage was my middle name. I skimmed the synoptic chart the day before and thought that some cloud and some rather ugly weather was going to prevail, but the front was still a way off and Wednesday afternoon would be a beaut! The pommies knew that I am an aviator extra-ordinaire (cannot sell yourself short now can you?)
To my sad surprise I logged in to weathersa and saw the forecast for that day. Light Northerly wind in the morning - turning to fresh in the afternoon. Fresh? Ouch - NO WAY on earth (or in the sky) would I even think of crossing over that "mountain" with a fresh wind!
Taking the scenic route from Rosebank to Aviators Paradise I was hesitant but still insistent that my prediction was better than that on SA Weather (okay okay - I got lost - but men never get lost, we take the scenic route - UNDERSTOOD?)
Two Brits anxious to go flying, me anxious to take off because the WX Beareau was predicting the weather to turn "south", in a bad way south, not in a southerly direction...

Pre-flighting my aerie I constantly wanted to know if I was doing the right thing, two very important people, one very unimportant aircraft, risk, no reward. The only reward being the smile on their faces when we come down. What am I risking? What do I have to lose? The weather smooth as silk as I can see but still the authority predicts otherwise? My pax (pax = passengers for those that do not know) just wants to fly.
I am a licensed qualified semi experienced pilot but my interpretation and that of the weather predictors clashes. What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO?
On the ground it looks AWESOME - hang-gliders say it is as smooth as a baby's bottom (or that of a shaved labrador? how do you read it?) You go up and you test it for yourself and you make up your own mind!
Confident enough with my own skill I decide to strap my most daring PAX into the backseat and proceed with my pre-take-off checks. Call on the radio and backtrack to use the most of the runway as I have been taught ad infinitum.
My 582 purrs like a persian cat on heat behind me pushing us up into the air: 1 for the hang-gliders, ZERO for weathersa. I make a slow climbing turn over Miracle Waters and showed my PAX (who is an avid diver) the waters below... "Look, people dive in that pit!"
I see the quarry, I see the gap in the mountain, now or never goes through my head. "NOW" it was the obvious answer and I do not regret one moment heading over the ridge! Constantly I monitor the radio, this is all new to me, I am pretty sure I changed to the right frequency because everyone is calling locations around or over the dam. DAMN. Will they see me?
I skinted around the Western verges of the dam but could not stop worrying because the wind was coming from the north, straight over the mountains!
I was in awe! I stayed rather high and constantly felt that no-one was hearing me on the radio. Not having a wingman to talk to made me even more attuned to the environment and being a newbie to the damn dam made it even worse. I have driven over the wall to see two fixed wings cross over it within 1000ft of each other – that to this day scares the heeby jeebies out of me. Both going opposite directions!
That said - I have also now flown over Hartebeespoort Dam on my own and I want to do it as soon as possible again!