When Gordon (SAC CFI) first suggested that the Club should have a weekend fly out I wondered whether G-MWLO (the yellow MW6) would have the necessary fuel range. It's not the lightest MW6. It's pretty 'draggy' and with full tanks, two-up, it has a duration of about two hours. It almost made it to Cheddar a few years ago but rarely has it exceeded the Telford barrier. When it became apparent that this weekend 'jolly' was to be a trip to France I thought it better to forget it. Furthermore, this weekend was to be Friday to Monday and as it was proposed to take place the weekend before schools broke up for the summer holidays that certainly put paid to me going. (Teachers do have long holidays but they are fixed!)

Meanwhile I'd been discussing the venture with 'Big prop' Bob and although he was initially cool (22 miles of Channel cool) I kept bringing the topic up. Bob, as you all know, loves his flying but although he is adventurous when it comes to rough weather flying, thermalling and the like, he's not a long distance man (until now that is). Quite a few members of the Club and some from local clubs had by now shown interest. However, the planned July weekend wasn't very pleasant so the trip was postponed until August (school holidays!!).

Now it's probably the understatement of the year to say there hasn't been a substantial period of fine weather this year and it didn't look as though August was going to be any different so thoughts of flying to France receeded.

The weekend before the proposed backup date Gordon rang to see if I could encourage Bob. He felt it wouldn't take much to 'push him over the edge' - of the cliffs of Dover that is! I eventually enticed him into flying, with me as navigator, at least as far as the white cliffs. We could always turn back if things looked a bit too 'choppy'. It was now the Monday before the proposed Friday departure - not a lot of time to get ready! After a briefing at Gordon's place on the Wednesday evening it was agreed to rig G-MNMW (the big prop mother MW6) on Thursday evening before going on to the monthly Club meeting. (Bob had originally thought of rigging on the morning of departure.) We were finally somewhere near ready at 11 p.m.. As the morning of Friday, August 7th dawned the weather had turned near perfect. Bob's somewhat later than agreed arrival at the field and some irritating final adjustments meant we departed half-an-hour later than planned at 0830 hours. Four aircraft left Otherton for France. The Red Baron flight was on its way; Gordon and Rosemary in his Blade 462; John Jaz and son, Ian, in their Blade 582; Mick Colin in his Quantum 503 and, taking up the rear, Bob and myself in the MW6 'mother ship'.

Our route took us south of Lichfield and Tamworth down to Halton near Aylesbury. Here we made our first fuel stop. It took us one hour thirty minutes to cover these ninety miles. Halton is a grass RAF airfield and the Crown indemnity cover made the landing fee a hefty £17.17 .

The second leg was from Halton to Headcorn (Lashendon). This eighty miles took us north of London under London's TMA (2500 feet QNH) and as we approached Stapleford, Stanstead's CTA (just to the north) is down to 1500 feet QNH. A 45 degree turn to starboard put us on track for Headcorn. We crossed the Thames at about 1230 hours and could see 'The Dome' in the distance to our right. Motorways, built-up areas, power cables and bodies of water make for few areas suitable for a forced landing. Second to the Channel crossing this leg caused us most apprehension. We landed at Headcorn at 1250 hours - one hour twenty minutes to cover this eighty mile leg.

Our fifth Red Baron micro-light joined us here; Neville Payne from Herefordshire in his Pegasus XL. He was waiting for us when we landed. We'd made such good progress it was decided to spend a little time relaxing - another refuelling, lunch and filing a flight plan. It had turned into a beautiful summer's day. Headcorn was busy. The parachute club was making the most of it and the public were out in force.

We left Headcorn at 1530 hours for the final leg. It was agreed that we would try to keep in sight of one another over the Channel. By the time we arrived at Folkestone we couldn't see anyone. We heard Gordon speak to Dover coastguard as we climbed in a circle to four and a half thousand feet west of Dover. I asked Bob if he was happy with the engine. It hadn't missed a beat throughout the journey so we went for it. At this height it was hazy so we couldn't see the French coast until we were just over the Channel.

Now anyone who has flown with Bob knows how his excitement at being in the air often results in frequent vocal expressions - not so for the next fifteen minutes. He went quiet! - yes . . . quiet! I endeavoured to wind him up by regularly informing him of the ETA at the French coast (Cap Gris-Nez) as indicated by the GPS. "Twelve minutes to go . . . Ten minutes to go . . . If the engine cuts now we are going to get wet . . .Five minutes to go." It took twenty minutes to cross. As we neared the French coast and started to reduce height to 2000 feet for the French part of the trip Bob's voice came back to life.

Keeping Boulogne well to our right we skirted Le Touquet zone, crossed the River Canche and turned thirty degrees to the right for Abbeville. We arrived at 1707 hours (1807 French time). Flying time for the whole trip was four and a half hours!

Needless to say our successful arrival demanded a celebration. After a couple of beers followed by tying down we took a taxi to the hotel in Abbeville, booked in, had another couple of beers and went for a meal at a local restaurant.

Saturday dawned sunny and flat calm - another beautiful day. This day was devoted to flying a circuit of famous battle sites - Crecy (August 1346), Agincourt (October 1415), Vimy Ridge (April 1917), Cambrai (November 1917), The Somme (1916 & 1918). We refuelled at Arras and then at Albert.

From here we flew south-east to the Somme and traced the path taken by the legendary Red Baron on his final flight. From his take-off at Cappy to his demise close to the brickworks near Corbie, Gordon gave us a running commentary.

By now it was beginning to get late so instead of the planned landing at Amiens we returned directly to Abbeville. Downwind in the Abbeville circuit a familiar voice crackled over the intercom, "Come on Arnold, get a move on!" Tony Shellis and Mulk Raj had arrived in the Mistral. They stayed overnight and flew back early the next day.

Sunday proved to be yet another fine day. It was decided to give the flying a rest. Our regular taxi driver was booked to take us to Albert. Here we visited the First World War museum in the vaults of the church. We had lunch at the "Tommy Bar" just outside Albert and then went on to the Somme military cemetery and Newfoundland memorial site. We spent the evening at an Algerian restaurant in Abbeville.

Monday dawned - another beautiful day. We rigged, fuelled up and filed our flight plan. Neville in his XL left a few minutes before the rest of us. His was the slower machine and we'd agreed to group over Cap Griz-Nez before crossing the Channel. We arrived just in time to see Gordon heading out to sea. (We assumed that Neville had already set off but unbeknown to us he'd had misgivings about his GPS and it wasn't until he could see Calais that he realised he'd gone too far north. By the time he'd turned back and left the French coast we had crossed.)

As we set out over water Bob went quiet again. The crossing took sixteen minutes. The tail wind gave us a 'ground' speed of ninety mph! When we arrived at sunny Headcorn the parachutists were still at it and the public were there sunning themselves, enjoying watching the aerial activity.

We closed the return flight plan, had lunch and said our goodbyes to Neville. As we flew round London the weather began to deteriorate. The cloud started building and there were a few rough moments. It improved slightly as we landed at Halton (another £17.17). The pump attendant wasn't there so the local club kindly provided some jerry cans and the transport to a nearby garage.

The final leg was uneventful and we arrived back at Otherton to a delightful welcome of family and friends at 1910 hours. Thanks go to John Jaz's wife, Joan, for being thoughtful enough to provide us with food and drink.

The weekend was a phenomenal success. This was in no small part due to the meticulous planning which Gordon had undertaken. Not only had he planned the route carefully but the information pack he gave each member included details of the various battles and a comprehensive account of the Red Baron's last flight. The weather couldn't have been better (and hasn't been since!) - a slight tail wind out and a stronger one back! Where to next I wonder?