Chuck Anderson
SOARING WITH THE EAGLES
Frank, Bob and Jack, to Muncie did go. The National were on and they had entered the show.
Two Magics were ready, the epoxy dry, Poor Jack had a crash, during a last minute fly.
They arrived at the site, and studied the scene. Their transmitters charged, their reflexes keen.
The "two meters" were flying and the launches were steep. Most landings were perfect. The water looked deep.
Next day they rose with the birds and went straight to the field. Our fellows were ready, if their nerves didn't yield.
The top guns were there, thicker than fleas. Flying Falcons and Eagles, Saturns and Vees
Our men watched Wurts, Weaver, Agnew and Shaw Talk about awesome. There should be a law.
Projectiles....they launched as if shot from a gun. Then they thermalled like hawks, as high as the sun.
Then down from the heavens, they came like a shot. Deployed their flaps and nailed the spot
Our boys winched up their sailplanes, but their zenith was low. If the green air was left, to the right they would go.
The lift was elusive, but most landings they made. Their flights weren't impressive, but their zeal didn't fade.
When the contest was over they posted the score. Mike Fox was the winner, our guys' dreams were no more.
Would they do it again? Would they challange the best? Will they hone their skills and go back for the test?
The resonse was a chorus. The answer was, "yes." What is it that drives them, to take up this quest?
To challange the gods. To fly from that knoll. To dream the impossible. That is their goal.
"Anonymous"
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