Many potentially-useful and helpful insights have come before...good stuff.

That said, here's a one-word attempt at additional context: KISS.

Ask yourself why it is *you* have your 'not done it yet' XC fears. If they're
rationally based, odds are they'll all more or less boil down to fear of
breaking something (ideally, the glider/your butt!).

Next ask yourself why these fears exist.

Lastly, take the simplest actions designed to sensibly remove those fears'
underlying causes. (Hint: none of the simple actions have anything to do with
electricity, computers or technology, as evidenced by the fact that safe,
accident-free XC was being performed by newbies way back in the 1930's...or,
almost before real people existed. WARNING: Readers wishing not to be exposed
to dry humor should skip the sentence preceding this one!!!)

Anecdotal example of successful use of KISS Principle applied to 1st-XC follows...
- - - - - -

Context - newly licensed glider-only pilot, 23-years old, hugely ignorant
about 'this soaring thing' but definitely hooked. All prior experience
entirely in a 2-33 (~14.5 hrs) and a 1-26 (~ 31 hrs), all in Cumberland,
(mountainous, western) MD. Natural fear (plus native common sense and lack of
lift?!?) underlay the lots-of-'OFL-practice' shown in the logbook as part of
the above stick time, said OFL practice consisting mostly of practicing short
landings over imaginary approach obstacles onto different 'spots' of an
unfamiliar paved runway, trying to ignore the altimeter (and, in rain, being
forced to ignore the non-functioning airspeed indicator).

Then exactly one month after licensing, my fellow newbie glider-only-time
ship-partner(& decade older 'geezer') in the 1-26 built (and now 'suddenly'
but-one-third-owned by our former instructor), suggested the 3 of us go
out-of-state to another club's 3-day-weekend fun fall contest. ("Hey! It's in
the flatlands of Ohio; what could go wrong?!?" "Well, for two, I could bust
the ship and my butt...")

I resolved to at least get one thermal away from the home field (and try to
get back, ha ha) before contest weekend, then less than 2 weeks away, before
mentally committing to the idea of actually *intentionally* going XC, no
matter how many other maniacs populated my nearby airspace over the wilds of
Ohio. And a great plan it was...even though it also resulted in my first-ever
OFL when timing conspired to have me choose my 'one thermal away' on the
trailing edge of the thermic airmass adjoining one more worthy of useful
performance testing. How embarrassing. How alarming! How...do I manage to not
bust the glider/my butt when I am obviously not going to make it back to the
airport? (Hey, at least my test condition was validated!) The KISS-based input
of my instructor combined with my own fears worked just fine for the
entirely-unwanted situation and I wound up landing in the Potomac River
bottoms in the only field (pasture, ugh) around I deemed even remotely
acceptable (it was great, of course), about 3 air-miles from the airport.

Next weekend (in Ohio) I went out and placed 4th (of 12) on a 35-mile O&R 1-26
course, judged my final glide so well I easily remained aloft to bag my
5-hour, and averaged a whopping 12 mph. (Those ahead of me had obviously
cheated or lied, given their claimed speeds twice that of mine. Those behind
me had all landed out, the incompetent twits...wait!...one of those twits was
the then-reigning 1-26 National Champion. There might be more to this sport
than is first apparent...!)

The next day fellow newbie and I retrieved our former instructor from *his*
(first!) landout, that latter fact being divulged only after we were returning
to the airport, glider in tow. (No WONDER he'd seemed so genuinely happy when
they retrieved me the previous weekend!)

That was all it took for me to conquer my XC demons/fears/worries...beLIEVing
that what I'd been taught/gleaned about how to pick a field would work. The
bad news is that if you ever do break anything on an OFL (35+ years and ~20
OFL's later, I haven't yet), if you're honest with yourself, you'll have to
live with the conclusion that odds are it was *your* fault. (Human eyesight
isn't sufficiently good to completely eliminate the inherent terrain
micro-surface risks associated with OFLs, but those things tend 'merely' to
induce gear-related damage, not include life-threatening risks.)

For me, doing basic skills and field-assessment homework beforehand, and
scrupulously applying the proper lessons, proved a liberating, powerful
approach. Everything else is 'just' experience...which will come with
continued time and exposure, neither of which will invalidate those necessary
basics.
- - - - - -

Have fun!!!

Regards,
Bob W.