Arrive at Invermere Soaring Centre!

After waving Danny and Sam off, I headed around the gliding club to look for signs of life, and found a couple of people with their heads underneath a bashed-up pickup truck. I introduced myself as Colin; they introduced themselves as Darren and Sharn, both Kiwis who'd recently arrived in Canada with the onset of the New Zealand winter, and the rather rubbish soaring conditions that brings.

They showed me to the clubhouse, where I met Kathryn (Sharn's girlfriend), and waited for Trevor (my contact) to arrive, while I admired the view:

Once Trevor arrived, he showed me round the club, then we all sat down for lunch which Trevor had gone to pick up. Well, I munched on some of my jerky, anyway.

There was to be no flying today, so I helped around the clubhouse a little bit, raking some flower beds and watering some plants (little did I know that gardening was going to be a very common theme over the next week!), and had another look round the hangars. The club is very well-equipped, with the pride of the fleet a Duo Discus, registration 007, along with another 2-seater in the form of an IS-28B Lark (which is older and from the USA, in fact this one re-built from a writeoff). There was also a PW5 and Astir single seaters, all belonging to Invermere Soaring Centre, and available for use by the club members as well as any visiting pilots who are licensed to fly Canadian single-seaters (I am not).

Invermere Soaring Centre is the siamese twin of the Canadian Rockies Soaring Club, which also has it's own (wooden) gliders. They share the runway, the clubhouse and even a lot of members, however it is Invermere Soaring Centre which is able to sell glider rides, and Trevor is the CFI of this club.

Anyway, next thing we needed to do was sort out somewhere for me to sleep. Usually, camping is done on the airfield itself and there are a number of berths for RVs and tents- however, not this year. The airfield is on Indian-owned land, and the local chief decreed that no-one would be able to stay overnight this year. Understandably, this has caused a lot of bitter feelings among the club; however, everyone has relocated to Hoodooville, a campsite (with a great name!) by the hoodoos (rock formations) about 20 mins further down the valley, and it is here we headed with a borrowed tent and some tarpaulin as protection from the wet weather that was forecast.

One tent-building session later, and here is my home!

Darren, Trevor and myself had dinner in Trevor's RV (very nice curry), before watching a bit of TV then retiring after what had been a knackering day for me which had started in another province (although, with the added energy that comes with descending 7000' from your last bed!).