The Day I Almost Won a Grand Prix Race in Jaca
Story by Sergi Pujol
During the week of 7 to 23 May 2017, I took part in a Grand Prix held at Santa Cilia de Jaca Airport. For those of you who are not familiar with the world of gliding, the Grand Prix is a more spectacular competition format promoted by the FAI in an effort to bring aviation and soaring closer to the general public.
Unlike traditional gliding competitions, where a 300–400 km task is set and no one knows the results until pilots land five or six hours later, the Grand Prix format features shorter races where everyone starts at the same time, and the first pilot to cross the finish line usually located over the airfield wins.
The event also aims to achieve maximum media exposure by tracking the gliders during the race and rendering both terrain and aircraft in 3D.
Here I include a screenshot from the live broadcast of the 2016 Cerdanya Grand Prix, along with a link if you want to watch more videos:
http://www.sgp.aero/spain2016/race-coverage/videos.aspx
It is an international competition with qualifying events, such as the one in Jaca, where the top two pilots qualified for the final to be held in Chile the following January. The 2018 final took place in La Cerdanya.
Back to race day, the race director set a 151 km task: start at Jaca Airport, a first turn point at Santa Lucía, then the longest leg of 71 km eastbound to Buerba, passing over Broto Airfield, and finally returning to Santa Cilia de Jaca.
I launched among the first pilots, which was advantageous, as while waiting for the rest of the competitors to be towed and gain height, I could observe the day’s conditions where thermals were working and where they were not, as well as their strength.
The forecast for the day looked good. After aerotow, I was released at 1,600 metres in the northern mountains of the airfield. I quickly realised there was too much stability and that thermals were not very strong, topping out around 1,900–2,000 metres. I spent some time consolidating my position and decided I needed to climb the mountain range to break through the stable layer and find stronger lift.
I caught a weak thermal that took me up at about 1 m/s to 2,300 metres. From there, I could reach the higher mountains, where the air mass was more unstable and conditions improved significantly. I found several strong thermals that took me up to around 3,000 metres while waiting for the rest of the competitors to launch.
My strategy was clear: after passing the start gate, located overhead the airfield at 1,700 metres (going higher would incur penalties), I would climb back into the mountains to re-enter the more active air mass.
Over the radio, I heard there were two minutes left until the start. I began heading back towards Jaca Airport, slowly losing altitude. I started to see the other competitors… 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 start gate open!
Seven pilots launched at the same time. It was incredible to be flying among so many gliders so close together.
As we reached the ridge leading to the first turn point, it was clear that conditions were poor: small, broken thermals. I saw gliders ahead of me struggling to find lift, and we advanced along the ridge until we found a stronger thermal climbing at 1 m/s.
Pilots who had already rounded the first turn point began to appear again, and doubts started to creep in: should I go to the turn point? Keep climbing…?
However, I noticed most gliders were heading south, not trying to climb again into the better air mass, and I couldn’t understand why. It felt like I was last… I decided to complete the turn point, return to the thermal, and then choose whether to go north or south.
I went north. Climbing was slower at first, but once I reached 2,000 metres again, I found strong lift. I couldn’t see anyone else not a great sign, but I pushed on.
Halfway to the second turn point, I found a strong thermal and began circling. Suddenly, Thomas Gostner appeared below me, climbing more slowly, which motivated me first because he was behind me, and second because I was climbing faster than him. I continued on and caught two more gliders slightly below me, overtaking them. Over the radio, I heard Spanish pilot Aldo saying he had gone south and was very low, possibly out of the race.
I was now almost at 3,000 metres and approaching the Aínsa valley, where the second turn point was located. I found the best thermal of the day 2.4 m/s which took me up to 3,100 metres. The glide computer indicated I could now reach Jaca with 80 km remaining.
I rounded the turn point and headed towards Broto, the final waypoint before Jaca. The computer showed I had 64 km to go and would arrive with a 300-metre margin.
The south side was under cirrus cloud, meaning the return leg would likely be in shade, so I assumed I would not find any more lift on the way back.
I continued gliding towards Jaca. According to the rules, when within 10 km of the airfield, pilots must report their position on the radio. I was still 20 km out, and no one had reported yet. Could I really be in the lead?
The computer now showed a 270-metre arrival margin. I had lost 50 metres. At 12 km out, still no radio calls. I started getting nervous…
10 km… I’m first! I report my position on the radio and FLARM (like a TCAS for gliders), and suddenly I see a glider behind me… damn…
I start wondering whether I should go faster. If I push too much, I’ll lose altitude and might not meet the 200-metre minimum required on arrival. If I don’t speed up, I might get caught.
Thomas Gostner calls 10 km… damn! He’s a top pilot and has a better glider than mine. I can see him closing in on FLARM… what should I do? Push a bit more? No he’s coming in like a missile.
I watch him pass underneath me… and he beats me by 11 seconds. He crosses the finish line just 3 metres above the penalty threshold, while I arrive 30 metres above it. I could have pushed more… but that’s racing!
