At least once each winter I manage to get a good flight in the middle of a snowstorm. Last Sunday was that flight. My gliding  partners had looked at the weather reports of showers and decided to stay at home. People say that you shouldn't fly by yourself, but on that day I felt the urge to go flying and so headed for my favorite gliding site. I had the mountain ridge to myself. After a smooth lift-off, I floated stably in the breeze, feeling at peace with myself and the world. I looked across the valley to Bedford and a moment later saw the town disappear in a band of snow that was moving towards me. The breeze remained strong enough for flying and I knew that as long as the _ was good, it was OK for me to stay in the air. The snow moved in and swirled around me. It was a light dry snow. The day was already very quiet but, somehow, the light snow made it even more silent. I felt like a snowflake. Two bald eagles joined me. They didn't pay me any attention and spent a few minutes flying around the ridge before disappearing. I flew through another band of snow. I had been flying for about 45 minutes when I next looked across the valley. I could see there were more bands of snow to come and the breeze was dying too. It was time to go home, get in a hot bath and warm up. I couldn't wait to tell my gliding partners that they had missed out on a perfect flight. Why did the author's gliding partners refuse to fly on that day?
They preferred to fly alone The weather did not permit They did not like winter flights The equipment was not adequate