I'm a little confused by who is writing what and to whom, but each
person has their own peculiar theory of thermalling. Hal was
interested, as best as I could tell, in maximizing his climb. The
approach I suggested gets you into the better lift as quickly as
possible, and establishes a new "center" for others in the thermal to
join. If you have found the better lift, others will join you. If not,
you'll adjust back into the original center.

I find that only a handful of pilots actively seek the best part of
the thermal. Most are content to accept a circle that provides
relatively uniform lift all the way around. This means that I often
find myself conflicting with other gliders. But only briefly, as I'm
usually above them within a turn or two. I'll note that I do not fly
this way around the home drome... These are techniques for racing and
assume the people in a thermal understand that we are all trying to
get around the course as quickly as possible. Achieving a consistently
high climb rate has a dramatic impact on your x-c speed... so more
often than not, when I find the core (that is, the "real" core),
everyone else in the thermal quickly joins in.

If Hal is interested in maximizing his climb rate (which means getting
into the best available lift as quickly as possible), he needs to fly
aggressively. However, those who appreciate soaring for its tanquility
may not appreciate his enthusiasm, or particularly care that they're
not in the best lift. One adjusts as necessary to one's surroundings.

As for close quarters at 60 degrees... bring it on. I love flying with
pilots who can sustain a steep turn in the core. Great views, great
fun. And chances are good that all the pilots in there with you know
how to fly.

Years ago, at a contest in Corning, NY I entered a thermal at no more
than 400 feet above the ground. It was to my right, so I cleared and
started turn to the right. I found about 2 knots. After gaining a few
hundred feet I heard a call on the radio: "Five Niner, you're turning
the wrong way!" I nearly broke my neck trying to see who I was about
to hit. After two more turns, I looked up to see a Libelle 4,000 feet
above, nearly at cloudbase. (I should note that 59 had a very
distinctive paint job and 3-foot high winglets -- visible from miles
away). I keyed the mike... "Libelle, are you talking to me?"

"Yes, you're turning the wrong way."

It wasn't worth the effort to explain why I was turning right... or
why he shouldn't care. Within another turn he'd left the thermal. End
of discussion.

OC