Introduction 
My earliest recollection of the Morning Glory was probably an article in Skysailor (now 
Soaring Australia) published after the first non-powered hang glider pilots flew it. 
That was ten years ago when CMac, Al Giles, Billo and PK made their first pilgrimage to 
Burketown. 
 
I saw my first picture of a Morning Glory on a website called Dropbears.com. The pages 
at; 
http://www.dropbears.com/brough/ had been authored by a powered sailplane pilot who had 
been flying the wave since 1989. This site is an excellent source of information and 
images of the Morning Glory and a lot more. 
 
My interest and subsequent reading of all the Morning Glory pages at Dropbears was the 
result of finding out that Billo and Al were organising a 2005 expedition to Burketown 
in memory of CMac. Apparently there was a spare seat. As it turned out this was all 
part of Billo's cunning plan to get me to drive his second car and to video the event. 
I had been singled out has having some sort of a knack with a video camera and an 
editing suite after the success of the Dalby DVD. 
 
I just had to convince my wife and family of the value of this once in a lifetime 
experience. This was not going to be easy since there was no guarantee that the Morning 
Glory would even come in and JOD's was responsible for the trip planning and his 
itinerary had us travelling some 8,000 kms. This alone would cost a fortune in petrol. 
 
To my delight and the envy of my work mates my wife, Tanya, was very understanding. She 
would have to run the house and look after the kids for four weeks without me so I knew 
the sacrifice she was making. 
 
None of us wanted to think about the fact that we may not even see a Morning Glory but 
we all had to sign on knowing that our trip could be morning gloryless. At least we 
would get to see parts of Australia that most people don't. We were to drive from 
Newcastle, in NSW, to Hawker in SA. Here we could fly Wilpena Pound. Then we would get 
on the Birdsville Track to take us through to QLD. From there it was up to Burketown, 
our final destination in the tropical north of Australia. 
 
Day 1 (Sat. 17/9/05) 
Jason arrived to pick me up at 6am and my sleepy family watched in amazement through 
the front window as we managed to fit all my gear into an already overloaded Subaru. 
This was Billo's second car that he had bought for the trip to tow his Buzzard trike. 
In the weeks leading up to our departure Billo put in a lot of work so that we would be 
able to have two trikes in Burketown and thus have the best chance of getting on the 
wave. 
 
Jason and I made our way to Rutherford where we had agreed to meet the others. We 
fuelled up, zero the trip odometers and took a group shot. Looking back on the shot now 
there was our car, Billo's Subaru. We nicknamed her Christine because she had a mind of 
her own and communicated to us with beeps and flashes when we left a door open or the 
keys in the ignition. JOD's car was a much newer Subaru Forester which he shared with 
Al Giles(Dr Death). He had the luxuries of aircon and a fridge. Billo, Greg and Young 
Shane were in Billo's Hilux. The Hilux was towing the XTC582 trike and Christine was 
towing the Buzzard. 
 
Someone yelled; "let's hit the road!" and one by one the cars wheeled away from the 
petrol pumps and onto the highway. Finally we were on the trip of a lifetime. Well the 
others were at least. Christine had a flat battery. 
 
I took one photo of Jason and Al jump-starting the car and that was to be the last I 
saw of my camera until Burketown. The car was packed so tight it wasn't till then that 
I was able to find the bag into which I had placed it. 
 
The day started off dizzely then cleared to blue skies but a strong westerly headwind. 
We made our way west in high spirits. Jason and I needed another jump start in Merriwa 
and by Gilgandra Jason had had enough and found an auto electrician who installed a new 
battery. The Hilux crew took the wrong road and ended up in Dubbo, and we did not meet 
up again until Nyngan. It was quite a distance between Meriwa and Nyngan and as we 
speed across the plains under beautiful cloud streets I was impressed by the thought of 
Scott Barrett's flight from Denman to Nyngan, a valley record at 340kms. 
 
Selmsey and Shane had left the day before to do a flooring job in Moree. Shane worked 
as a labourer to cover his petrol costs for the trip. We found them in the pub with the 
longest verandah in Cobar. Come to think of it we always found Selmsey in a pub. We 
stocked up with beer and food and headed out of town to make camp half way between 
Cobar and Wilcania in a rest stop. 
 
Day 2 (Sun. 18/9/05) 
We awoke to a beautiful moon set and sun rise before making our way to Broken Hill. The 
McDonalds billboard on the outskirts of town was an indication that even though we had 
travelled so far we still hadn't got far enough away from the city. We only stopped to 
get petrol and Selmsey made his way to the wreckers to find a radiator. He'd had enough 
of driving with the heater on to keep the engine cool. 
 
Broken Hill was the point at which we headed south towards SA. The roads were now 
getting longer and straighter and the scenery on each side more sparse. Flat for as far 
as you could see. We turned north at Peterborough, back into the hills again. Selmsey 
and Shane headed to Port Augusta to continue the search for a radiator having come up 
with nothing in Broken Hill. while the rest of us went on to Hawker. We got petrol and 
more supplies and turned our noses up at the expensive fly nets that you put over your 
hat. Stocked up with food and beer, we headed into the National Park at Wilpena pound, 
stopping here and there to pick up firewood. While you are allowed to have a fire in 
the camping area there is no firewood. 
 
We shared the campsite at Arkaroola with two or three busloads of school kids. The 
showers were hot but there was a line up and quite a wait as each kid thought he was 
back home. This concept was compounded but the fact that back at the buses there was a 
large screen set up with a DVD playing. It seemed a bit strange but we had a nice fire 
and cook up. Still a ways to go to get away from the city. 
 
Day 3 (Mon. 19/9/05) 
Billo gave us all joy flights over the pound until the thermals picked up. Then we made 
our way to Lyndhurst but not before returning to Hawker and buying up all the fly nets. 
No one told me about the flies. Unbelievable. 
 
The convoy had split up with JOD and Selmsey taking the more scenic route while we 
followed Billo on the bitumen. We were all to meet for a pie at Copley but the others 
couldn't wait for us and left a message with one of the local kids whom we ignored as 
he ran down the street waving at us as we passed through the sleepy town at sunset. 
 
We found the others in Lyndhurst, in the pub. This was to be the point at which Billo 
would start flying the XTC-582 over the dirt roads but he didn't communicate this very 
well to the others and since they did not want to stay in Lyndhurst and Billo did not 
want to break up the group we made our way to Maree on the dirt. 
 
JOD and Al stayed in the Marree pub while the rest of us camped by the old Ghan railway 
line at the end of town. Jason and Billo were getting quite good now at cooking a 
"mash-up" in the Trangias. I was suffering from a head cold and Jason was getting over 
a sore throat so it was an early night. Besides I was to be first passenger in the 
trike flying the Birdsville track the next day. 
 
Day 4 (Tue. 20/9/05) 
The G forces pressed me back into the seat as Billo increased the throttle and pushed 
the bar out to bank the trike up and around as we left the dirt road below and circled 
back over our camp. We buzzed the pub and started up the Birdsville Track. 
Unfortunately Billo had mixed emotions as we made our way through the beautiful morning 
air. Here we were in this incredible setting but the XTC-582 had taken a beating on the 
dirt road in spite of the beer cartons we had taped onto the spats. There were chips in 
the fibreglass and dints in the rear stays and in the Rotax radiator. 
 
The view below us was like a moonscape with the polished red stones of the stony 
dessert creating a mirage effect. I was still suffering from the head cold and could 
not stop my nose from running. Once the sponge microphone cover was saturated with it 
the snot started to whip up inside the full face helmet in the eddy currents. 
 
We were heading for Cooper's Creek to pick up the next passenger. I assumed that Billo 
would have loaded the way points into his GPS but when we landed at a homestead and he 
waved his GPS at the owner saying; "I have a GPS so I know exactly where I am . . . 
lost", I knew that he hadn't. We had landed at a homestead called Etaduna and we were 
treated to cups of tea and as much vegemite toast as we could eat. They had a broadband 
internet connection and they got us the weather report before we launched again. We 
circled up above the homestead while the men went back to work and the kids waved 
goodbye. Billo made the comment over the radio that his windscreen needed a wipe. He'd 
put my helmet on by mistake and I prayed that he did not get my cold as this could 
jeopardise the towing in Burketown. 
 
The going was rougher now and the XTC-582 was starting to burn more fuel. We'd missed 
Coopers Creek and the last radio contact we had with the others was to say that they 
had set up Selmsey's 220 Fun and were trying to fly a solitary hill in the Stony 
Dessert. 
 
We pushed on until we saw a airstrip where we landed again. This time it was glasses of 
cold water. It was so dry. We were at Mulka station and Billo refused their kind offers 
of fuel as he knew that landowners on the track do not have much to spare. Anyway we 
weren't far from the Mungaranie Pub. 
 
We landed at Mungaranie and taxied up the road to the petrol bowsers to fill up. It was 
my shout at the bar and I can tell you the first two stubbies did not even touch the 
sides and the egg and bacon roll was the best I think I've ever had. The others soon 
arrived but the track had taken its toll and we set about fixing the damage to trailers 
and cars. After that we grabbed some beers and jumped in the natural hot spring pool 
before heading off to find a campsite and a place for Billo to land. 
 
That night we built a big fire and JOD invited us to dine in his four billion star 
restaurant. The chef's special was jaffles and, thanks to JOD and Splint's efficiency, 
everyone had an elegant sufficiency in quick time. The night sky was amazing as we 
watched satellites speed through the Milky Way. This was to be the first night that I 
rolled out a swag instead of a tent and slept by the fire. We were far enough away from 
the city now. 
 
Day 5 (Wed. 21/9/05) 
It was Jason's turn in the trike. I filmed the XTC-582 as Billo warmed the oil in the 
orange glow of a rising sun and then after he took-off he climbed and banked in a 180 
degree turn to fly across the setting moon. 
 
I now had Christine to myself and we headed up the track with Greg and Shane in the 
Hilux not far behind. Although there were patches of water on the track it was very dry 
and not really a problem to drive on but I would not to do it in the wet. I was able to 
get some good footage of the other cars on the track and Selmsey found a sand hill to 
soar. We found the trike parked under a tree in the centre of Birdsville with two 
sleepy heads lying in its shade. We were all dry so we hit the Birdsville pub. More 
good tasting beer and a bar full of hats stuck to the rafters. 
 
Shane was next passenger in the trike and flew with Billo to a private airstrip just 
short of Bedourie. Billo was not happy to leave the trike there uninvited and 
unannounced, so Shane joined the ground crew and we set off to find a suitable landing 
and campsite. Billo took-off into the afternoon sun. As the light faded the dust from 
JOD's car ahead seemed to suddenly lie flat on the ground like a fog as the catabatic 
conditions took effect. Billo was on the radio complaining about heavy sink while Al 
was trying to find a patch of road that did not have a SWER line running next to it. He 
found one, a flat stretch of road between two crests with sand hills on either side. We 
parked cars on the crests at each end and light the road with our headlights. The drone 
of the XTC-582's Rotax overhead broke the eerie quite we were listening to as we manned 
our stations. We were all concerned for Billo's safety, night landings can be 
dangerous. I watched as the lights from Christine blinked. Not because we'd left the 
door open but because Billo had just guided the trike over her roof-top and onto the 
road for a perfect landing. He rolled the trike off to the side of the road and that 
was our camp for the night. 
 
Day 6 (Thu. 22/9/05) 
Billo was up with cockatoos and flying away against another sunrise and moon set. We 
met him at Boulia where we put the Trike back on the trailer. It would be bitumen from 
here to Gregory Downs just 120km short of Burketown. We camped in another rest stop 
just past Mt Isa and as my sinuses started to clear Billo started blowing his nose and 
chanting the mantra, "Splint must die!" 
 
Day 7 (Fri. 23/9/05) 
We made our way to Cloncurry to get final supplies for Burketown where everything would 
be more expensive. Up until now, as per Billo's instructions, we had been getting right 
off to the side of the road for the road trains. To my surprise they just ploughed past 
us, not even attempting to move over. When it was my turn behind the wheel I was like 
the horse bolting for the home gate as I lead the convoy up through the narrow bitumen 
roads with very course gravel on the shoulders. I saw the road train ahead but at the 
speed I was doing I had not left myself enough distance to stop before the road rounded 
a corner and the shoulder disappeared on crest. I pulled up but I had left us all only 
half off the road. This road train will have to move over now, I thought. I found out 
why they don't. We were showed with rocks and dust as the road train hit the shoulder 
on the other side. Every windscreen was either chipped or cracked. 
 
It was another long day of driving but our reward was a swim in the river at Gregory 
Downs. A tranquil oasis and the first time some of us had washed in a week. I grabbed 
the esky from the car and dropped it on the riverbank. The beer tasted good but 
unfortunately we indulged for a little too long and by the time Billo was back in the 
air he only had enough light to make it to Brookdale, a homestead about 40km short of 
Burketown. Billo put the Cruise to sleep under the verandah and we picked him up and 
continued on to Burketown where Donny was waiting for us at the Burketown pub. He'd 
flown in two days before. We kept the celebrations brief as tomorrow morning we would 
be up at 4am to fly the Morning Glory. 

Most of us threw out a swag for our first night in Burketown. We were up at 4:30AM and 
out on the salt flats. We were running out car towing ropes and marking their position 
with a GPS. There was no morning glory but that did not stop Selmsey from setting up 
and getting in some practice. Selsmey was determined that when the morning glory did 
come through that not only would he be ready but so would Shane.  Selmsey and Shane 
were the car tow team and they had recruited Greg to drive for them. Shane had never 
towed before and Greg had never been a driver but Selmsey is a good teacher. There are 
about 25 kilometres of salt flats spread out between Burketown and the ocean.  It's 
perfect for car towing. There are some small sand hills and some muddy patches but 
while you're on tow it's easy to see and direct the driver. 
 
By mid morning we were back in town and after seven days on the road it was a relief to 
set up camp in the caravan park knowing we would not be breaking it down for another 7 
days. By midday we were done and flat out in the shade sleeping. When we awoke at 2 PM 
it was "Beer O'clock", dew to Burketown's "Beer Light Saving". We moved from mattress 
to deck chair. Dinner was a mash up around the gas stove, a Barra Burger at the 
Take-Away Van or a meal in the pub. Then it was off to bed and so the gruelling 
Burketown routine begins again. 
 
Like just about everyone else, I usually woke an hour or so before the alarm and could 
not get back to sleep. By the third day this had began to take its toll and I just 
wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. Before I did, I put my hand outside the tent 
and ran my fingers through the grass. My hand came back wet with dew. I hoped out of 
the tent and Donny called me over to check out the wet footpath beneath the gutter-less 
eves on the toilet block. Dew was dripping off the hang gliders on the cars and 
everyone was a little more excited today. Dew is the telltale sign that there is enough 
moisture around for a Morning Glory to form. 
 
Out on the salt flats there was no sunrise. It was blocked by a Morning Glory. The aero 
tow crew was ready and waiting for the trikes to arrive. When they did Jason was first 
away behind Billo but JOD had to wait while Al tried frantically to connect the cable 
through the crankshaft to the makeshift multigrip release mechanism on the Buzzard. 
Billo returned after Jason broke a weak link without enough height to reach the wave. 
JOD jumped on the dolly and Billo yanked him into the air while Donny unclipped and 
went over to help Al. I endured two frustrating release malfunctions behind the Buzzard 
before Billo returned and announced that the wave had stalled off the coast and would 
probably soon dissipate. To make matters worse Al discovered that the Buzzard's lack of 
spats on the wheels had allowed the salt and mud to flick up into the props and they 
were starting to disintegrate. 
 
The wave was still a long way off and JOD had also fallen short of it and landed in a 
boggy area some distance from the car tow team. Billo suggested I get in the back of 
the trike while we fly out to the wave and at least get some video of it. I grabbed 
Billo's camera and headed for the trike. I was surprised at the look of disbelief on 
Donny's face as I jumped in the back seat. 
 
It was a long flight out to the wave but with every minute it became more and more 
awesome. No picture or video can do it justice. You have to be there to fully 
comprehend the size and majesty of "The Wave". It was hard to believe what I was seeing 
as I slowly panned from one horizon to the other along this magnificent mountain range 
of cotton wool. 
 
When we arrived on the wave Billo throttled back the engine and pointed to the climb 
rate. Finally I was able to put the camera in my lap and sit back in the seat to try 
and take it all in. I almost couldn't 
 
One soon runs out of superlatives when it comes to the Morning Glory. It's just as well 
I have a thesaurus. 
 
surreal [adjective] 
having the qualities of surrealism; bizarre, unusual, weird, strange, freakish, 
unearthly, uncanny, dreamlike, phantasmagorical: a surreal mix of fact and fantasy, a 
backdrop of surreal images. 
 
phantasmagoria [noun] 
a sequence of real or imaginary images like that seen in a dream : what happened next 
was a phantasmagoria of horror and mystery. 
Derivatives: phantasmagoric [adjective], phantasmagorical [adjective] 
 
majestic [adjective] 
having or showing impressive beauty or dignity : watching majestic eagles soar along 
the Mississippi. 
 
unreal [adjective] 
so strange as to appear imaginary; not seeming real : in the half-light the tiny 
cottages seemed unreal. 
 
Take your pick, they all apply. But I guess they still don't convey what it was really 
like. As Billo and I floated around on the wave I tried to think of how I would 
describe this experience. The only thing I could relate it to was paddling out in the 
biggest surf I'd ever ridden. It's actually not that scary because the wave never 
breaks and you don't have to take off on it and fall down the face. But the wave is 
many, many times bigger than the biggest surf anyone has ever ridden. This is where, 
for me anyway, the gravity of what we were doing sunk in. Flying the Morning Glory in a 
hang glider is where tow surfing was not that many years ago and now it's considered an 
extreme sport and sponsors are investing a lot of money. The more pilots that go to 
Burketown and fly the Morning Glory the more the knowledge base is expanded and the 
greater the success rate. 
 
In terms of hang gliding I guess it's like having climbed out in a thermal till you're 
on top off a huge cloud street, not under it. The cloud does actually run for as far as 
you can see east to west and there are secondary waves of similar size. It's all 
backlit from the rising sun. The sun reflects off the Albert river and the dark brown 
sandy colour of the salt flats provides a good contrast to the pure white of the cloud. 
The cloud bubbles and churns as it rolls backward under the invisible layer of surface 
air. This is what generates the lift in front of the wave. 
 
Looking down on this amazing phenomenon from the back seat of the trike I could think 
of only one thing better and that was to be in my harness but if another wave did not 
come through I figured I could live with this. 
 
I tapped  Billo on the shoulder and yelled into the opening in his helmet, "Thanks, 
this alone is worth the price of admission". 
 
Billo nodded but he was concentrating on something else and as I looked down through 
the skirt of cloud that precedes the leading edge I knew what it was. The cloud was on 
the move. It was devouring the Albert river and the salt flats on either side. Billo 
stepped on the throttle and pointed the Cruze wing back to where Donny was waiting in 
the dolly. Donny knew all along that the wave was gonna come in. 
 
We flew over the car tow crew where Jason had landed. JOD was further out and walking 
his glider. We landed and I jumped out of the trike and hooked on the rope. Donny had 
already clipped on to his end of the rope and as I turned to see if he needed a hand he 
dropped into prone and waved to Billo and he was gone. Things got a little crazy after 
that. I did not know whether to keep filming or get in my harness. I ran for my harness 
then I turned back for the camera, then the harness, no the camera and then I saw Billo 
and Donny coming back under the wave. It wasn't nice and fluffy anymore. It was dark 
and there was a strong wind now. Billo had circled around just ahead of the cloud and 
as they passed over the top of me the cloud caught up with them and they disappeared. 
Then I heard Donny hooting over the radio; "This is awesome, it really does roll 
backwards! Thanks for the tow Billo". 
 
Billo turned his engine off and was flying the wave with Donny. I heard Billo talking 
back to Donny and then to my surprise I heard Al. With the damage to the prop on the 
Buzzard, Billo had sent Al back to the airstrip but being a veteran wave rider Al took 
off again when he saw the wave coming in. Billo warned Al not to turn the engine off as 
he would not get it started again. Then I had to laugh as Al got back on the radio and 
announced that he had switched his engine off and was soaring the wave. The Buzzard was 
the first trike to ever soar a morning glory back in 1997 and Al was also the pilot 
then. 
 
The three of them flew about 60km down the road towards Gregory Downs. Bill re-lit his 
rotax and climbed high to fly back over the secondary waves while Jason and I went to 
pick up Donny and Al. 
 
By mid week the mornings were getting dryer and although a few more waves had come 
through we were unable to catch them. One came through as clear air and another came 
through in the dark while we were still setting up. Apart from Donny, the rest of us 
were starting to worry that we might not get a wave. The reality of investing so much 
time and money and not getting to fly the wave was causing the mood around camp to 
change. This was compounded by the fact that the Buzzard's prop was still being 
repaired and Billo did not want to tow off the salt flats so the aero tow team had to 
find another tow strip. 
 
With fewer aero tow options Jason felt that some of the aero tow pilots should go on 
the car tow team. No one offered, including myself, so Jason re-rigged his tow bridal 
for car towing and Selmsey and I set up Christine (the car) for towing. 
 
That night around the BBQ the talk from the powered glider pilots was that it was very 
unlikely that there would be a wave tomorrow. JOD had aggravated an old shoulder injury 
on the long tow earlier in the week and, as fate would have it, asked that he not be 
woken in the morning but it was too late for Jason to change his rig. Al made the same 
request unless there was a sufficient amount of dew. As it was, JOD's itinerary had set 
aside Wednesday for a day trip to Lawn Hill Gorge so we went to sleep pretty much 
resigned to spending the next day sightseeing. 
 
We got up at 4:30am and there was not much dew but enough that we thought it was worth 
waking Al. The response that came back from behind his cabin door was "NOT TOWING 
TODAY!" This was a problem for me as my radio and camera were being charged inside. It 
was even more of a problem for Jason as Al had volunteered to be his driver. Before 
long Al was more awake and had joined us. 
 
On the salt flats, to our surprise, the dawn revealed another Morning Glory. Donny and 
I set-up and I jumped in the dolly as Billo arrived in the trike. We were much more 
hurried this time as we knew now how fast the wave could travel once it hit the land. 
 
I gave the signal; "Go, Go, Go" and I started hurtling toward the approaching cloud. 
The dolly jumped the track and started ploughing through the soft sand on the left. I 
pulled the bar in and held onto the dolly for a little longer than usual. I was waiting 
for the power of the XTC-582 to straighten me up. It did and I let go of the dolly rope 
running through my hands and climbed towards the cloud. Just as I considered the fact 
that I might actually be going to ride the wave the release on the trike malfunctioned 
and I watched the rope fall below me. 
 
I tried to fly back to the dolly but the rope started dragging on the ground. I barely 
had time to land after releasing it. I radioed where I had dropped the rope and quickly 
set up for a tailwind landing. By now Donny was in the dolly and hooked onto the spare 
rope. As he flew over me on tow behind Billo had to laugh at the irony. It could have 
been Jason. 
 
I had to carry my glider, still in my harness, a kilometre. The morning was starting to 
heat up and it was very humid with the wave approaching and I was out of condition. I 
would not have made it all the way but Greg was nearby checking the end of the car tow 
rope and ran the dolly the rest of the way down to me. It took all my energy to get in 
the dolly and turn it around. I drank nearly all my water. I didn't think I was going 
to recover. At one point I actually considered getting out of the dolly and giving it a 
miss. 
 
Billo's voice on the radio stopped me as he said; "Splint, you're only gonna get one go 
at this!". The trike came in over the top of me and I watched the rope fall onto the 
track between me and the fast approaching wave. 
 
The rope over-shot me and I ran the dolly down to it. I picked up the rope and there 
were three other weak-link/ring combinations on it but not the spring-clip I was used 
to. I yelled some obscenity. I knew how to thread a weak-link between two rings but I 
did not have the time so I pulled my release. My rings dropped to the ground and I 
attached my release to one of the other rings. I prayed that they would hold as I lay 
down and yelled; "Go! Go! Go!" into the mic. 
 
Same deal as before, the dolly jumped the track but I was so pumped now that I just 
enjoyed the rush as the trike straightened me up and I popped out of the dolly. It 
seemed to take forever to get to the cloud and when we were nearly there Billo started 
circling. I never asked him why but I believe it was that he did not want to take me 
over the river. If the release malfunctioned again I would be stranded. He was waiting 
for the wave to catch us. 
 
He came out of the last turn and we were at half the height of the cloud. Up to this 
point the tow had been perfect. In fact it was my best tow ever. I stayed level with 
the trike and there were no PIOs. Then, suddenly, I was all over the shop. I nearly 
locked out in each direction. I felt the weak-link would break for sure. It was the 
turbulence before the wave which I had been warned of. 
 
Billo's voice came over the radio and calmly said; "Good flying Splint ... stay on 
tow". 
 
I returned to level flight as we left the turbulence but then the vario started going 
off and I pulled the bar in thinking that I was getting out of shape again but when I 
sighted up the rope to the trike it was going up too. We were in lift and I thanked 
Billo for the tow and pulled the release. I WAS FLYING THE CLOUD! 
 
My dreams had come true. Here I was on the cloud and I could not believe it. Billo's 
voice came over the radio and said; "Way to go Splint!" as he flew in front of me with 
the tow rope stretched out behind. 
 
I got out in front of the cloud and did my first cautious 360. The beauty of the sun 
filtering through the secondary waves above the Albert river took my breath away. In 
some places on the cloud it was smooth and looked more like a mountain of snow while in 
others it looked like steam rising up and riding over a long mountain range on the 
ground below. It's quiet too and a comfortable temperature. 
 
As I completed my turn I noticed another glider. It was Selmsey. Greg who, before this 
trip, had never been a car tow driver, had towed Selmsey onto the wave. I have to be 
honest and say that I didn't think they could do it but there he was. I wanted to 
congratulate him but the car towers were on a different radio channel so I just did a 
"Yeee Harrr!!" in his direction. 
 
I was tempted to fly back onto the cloud, get closer and throw it around  but I was in 
a Sting with the bar in just to keep up with the cloud as it was. Burketown is so 
remote that I did not want to take any chances. Also we'd all been told about Al's 
first flight on the wave. While getting that famous picture of PK, he drifted back and 
dropped into the cloud. His radio transmission went like this; 
 
"I'm in the cloud . . ." 
"Turbulence is moderate . . .", a loud bang was heard, "to SEVERE!!!" 
 
Al came out at the bottom of the cloud with only 400ft and lucky he was directly over 
the Burketown airstrip. 
 
The first thing you notice about flying on the wave is how smooth it is. I guess it's 
the lack of thermal activity. And there is no wind, just lifting air. It is truly 
serene. The movement of the cloud is hard to detect unless you look down on the leading 
edge and watch it relative to the ground. Relative to the cloud it's just like soaring 
a massive ridge of snow. You know how you get steam clouds rising up from the trees in 
the early morning in summer if there is a heavy dew or during the day if there has been 
a light shower? Well, that's the sort of cloud at the leading edge of the morning 
glory. The thing is that the ridge is invisible. 
 
It is misleading to say that the cloud moves. Yes, it rolls but it is not actually 
moving forward. Consider leaves on the surface of a pond after you've thrown a stone 
into the middle. The stone creates ripples that pass under the surface as indicated by 
the fact that the leaves move vertically and not horizontally. The same is true of the 
moisture laden air lying on the surface of the land as the solitary wave pushes under 
it. Like the leaves it rises up and the moisture it contains turns into cloud and as it 
falls the cloud disperses. So it's not the cloud that moves at 60km/h, it's the 
solitary wave beneath. 
 
When I say solitary wave I don't mean there is only one. In fact there were three more 
clouds behind the one that I was on. The term solitary stems from the fact that 
physicists describe the wave cloud as a soliton, a quantum or quasiparticle propagated 
as a traveling nondissipative wave that is neither preceded nor followed by another 
such disturbance. 
 
There are a number of theories put forth as to what causes this soliton to form. One is 
that massive amounts of air stack up near Cape York and then fall but this does not 
account for the Morning Glories that have come from the south. Another is that opposing 
seebreeze currents collide. Personally, I think Huey (Aussie weather god) gets bored in 
the early hours and throws the equivalent of a huge stone into the Gulf of Carpentaria 
and the ripples that result generate the Morning Glory. 
 
But I digress and with only 2500 words to play with there is precious few that I can 
use for that. Flying the Moring Glory  was amazing. In the Sting I had to keep the bar 
well in to keep up with the cloud which, according to my GPS, was moving at 60km/hr. 
But since it was so smooth I was still able to relax and take it in. The cloud was 
ever-changing. Sometimes the surface was smooth and curved concentrically from front to 
back. Sometimes the surface developed mounds and peaks like meringue while in others it 
was more like cauliflower but everywhere it was white. 
 
The next thing you notice about the Morning Glory is the awesome landscape over which 
it passes. Thousands of kilometres of brown and scared land. A beautiful majestic river 
with man-eating crocodiles and a single road to follow. At times fingers of cloud 
stretched out from the Morning Glory along it's length and curved thousands of feet 
down to ground and you could visualise the enormous sheet of surface air that was being 
lifted by the wave. 
 
We played on the wave for about 45 minutes. Selmsey dropped into hang to get what I 
call his "Jesus shots", pictures of his sandal clad feet against the heavenly backdrop 
of the cloud. The three of us went crazy with our cameras in still and movie mode 
taking shots of each other and the cloud. By now there was a bit of traffic. Billo kept 
passing by, engine off and rope still attached and the powered gliders were doing laps 
up and down the cloud. 
 
Once the wave had gobbled up Burketown and the airstrip I kept close to the road. The 
wave started to break up to the east. I looked behind me and Selsmey was heading back 
towards the secondary to land into the wind in front of it. I flew on to the Doomagee 
intersection where I descended through the wispy remnants of the cloud. Donny matched 
his speed with the cloud and held it as the cloud dissipated. The clear air wave kept 
going and carried him another 30km down the road. 
 
I was picked up by the convoy of cars travelling to Lorn Hill Gorge. Shane was coming 
through latter to get gliders and harnesses. We stopped at Gregory Downs and celebrated 
with cans of bourbon and coke. It was only 10:30AM but Selmsey, Donny and I were so 
pleased with ourselves. 
 
Jason was driving and although he was happy for us he had had another weak link break 
and his frustration was beginning to show. To make matters worse he was now stuck in a 
car for hours with three pilots who did get the wave and they were going on and on 
about it. The last straw for Jase was when Selmsey swept his arm across the scenery to 
our right and pronounced; "This is beautiful! See that tree? That tree is beautiful". 
 
"Oh come on Selmsey!", Jason said; "That wasn't a tree. It was a crappy little catus 
thing. And that's the same bloody, dry scenery you've been looking at for weeks. And 
now it's beautiful!. Give me a break". We all cracked up and agreed to stop rubbing it 
in. 
 
Lorn Hill Gorge was pretty impressive and as Jason and I followed the rest of the party 
up the river in our canoe between beautiful towering red cliffs  I thought to myself; 
"Does it get any better?" 
 
The next day was another missed chance for Jason. The wave came through before Billo 
had even left the strip. It was the last chance for JOD as he had to leave for Cairns 
later that day. 
 
On Friday I went out to the salt flats with Selmsey and Shane while Jason, Al and Donny 
went out to the road to aero tow. I could have jumped on the end of the aero tow line 
since Donny had already flown the wave twice but I wanted to get some footage of the 
wave from the ground and there was no way that Billo would get three hang gliders on 
the wave let alone two. I just hoped that he would get Jason on the wave and that 
Selmsey would get Shane on. 
 
The moon shone down us as a pre Morning Glory fog rolled in only six feet off the 
ground over where Shane was setting up his sting. Selmsey returned from checking the 
tow rope and as the first indigo coloured light of the sunrise appeared we could see 
the shape of the Morning Glory. Shane got in his harness and turned his sting around to 
face away from the cloud as Selmsey drove off to the end of the rope. The cloud was 
getting closer and Selmsey's voice came over the radio; "Get in the air!" 
 
Shane locked on his radio and called; "Go! Go! Go!" over the radio and I followed him 
through the lens as he turned into a speck in the sky above Burketown. I have my radio 
in my back pocket and had taped my wireless microphone to it. Shane's instructions to 
Selmsey were a mixture of excitement and nervousness and made for good commentary. When 
Shane reached the end of the rope at about 1700ft he signalled Selmsey to do a big 180 
degree turn which brought him back around to face the cloud which was now backlight by 
a magnificent orange sunrise. Shane commented at how stunning it was and how he thought 
he might actually get to ride this wave. 
 
Billo was the first pilot to tow up to a Morning Glory. In his words it was a "Monster" 
but as he will admit the towing technique in those days was very hit and miss and he 
was unsuccessful.  In those days they kept towing away from the wave until it caught up 
with them but Selmsey's technique seemed to be proving more successful. 
 
I paned the camera around and zoomed back to take it the sun rising under the cloud and 
as I did the white turbo subaru ploughed past. It was throwing up a wake of muddy sand 
the sides were completely brown. As the tow gauge on the back came into view I followed 
the rope back up towards Shane as he headed towards the cloud. He was not locked on any 
more and I could hear Selmsey yelling; "Mud! Shane? I've got mud coming!" 
 
Shane replied with; "Left. Just go left and you'll be able to go forever!". 
 
Selmsey had to slow down and the rope went slack. 
 
Shane yelled; "The rope's gone slack. Harder Selmsey, the rope's as slack as. Come on 
Selmsey, I don't want to break a weak-link now!" 
 
Selmsey planted his foot and launched himself over several large sand hills. The rope 
came good and as I zoomed back from Shane the cloud began to fill the frame until Shane 
was just a speck. Russ White flew into the frame in his Grob just under Shane on his 
way along the cloud and Shane turned right. Shane's voice came over the radio; "I've 
released! I'm on it! *&@%in Hell, I'm on the wave!". 
 
By now I was on full wide angle and the wave filled the frame. I lifted my head away 
from the camera and looked up to see the wave towering above me as it blocked out the 
sun. The wind blew and I held onto the tripod. The sun appeared again as the cloud 
passed over and the wind subsided and Shane's voice cackled over the radio as he 
laughed in amazement. 
 
Unbeknownst to us Billo was busy ferrying pilots onto the cloud. Jason was first with 
Billo's followed by Al and finally Donny. Donny actually left the dolly as the wave 
passed overhead. His on-board camera's footage is probably the most downloaded hang 
gliding footage on the internet at the moment. Billo and Donny turned under the wave 
and the Billo towed Donny through the leading edge of the cloud. Amazing flying from 
both of them. 
 
Selmsey came and picked me up and we chased the wave until we over took it. When the 
four hang gliders landed in a paddock by the side of the dirt road and a road train 
rattled through the bull dust under the secondary and tertiary wave clouds overhead we 
congratulated each other with hand shakes and hugs. The reality of what we had achieved 
started to dawn on us. Shane was the last of us to get a fly on the wave but he was 
only the tenth hang glider in history to soar the Morning Glory. 
 
On behalf of the Glory Boys of 2005 I would like to thank a few people. First, Russ 
White and Rob Thomson who were the first pilots to fly the Morning Glory. To CMac whose 
memory inspired this trip. To Al for towing and driving and going to the back of the 
queue in order that us newcomers got first crack at the wave. To my wife a children for 
supporting my dream of flying the Morning Glory and finally to Billo for his never 
ending endeavours to see the reputation of hang gliding lifted as high as possible.