August Bank Holiday Monday finds me at what might be called my spiritual home, Lasham Gliding Club. I have not flown since 2003 and my recent visits there have left me too tired to fly. It is approaching lunch time so after beef and rice, I walk the half mile from the club house to the launch point, keeping an eye out for the many machines landing and being launched by aerotow and winch.
At the launch point, CFI Gordon is busy directing the winch launch queue off the grass and the aerotow launch queue off the mile-long main runway. This involves a handheld radio for aerotow launches and light signals from the launch point bus for winch launches. I write my name on the flying list for a check flight and refamiliarise myself with the operations of the launch point. Between launches, we catch up on my missed time at Lasham http://www.lasham.org.uk/ The year so far has been pretty awful weather-wise and the Regional Gliding Championships were a wash-out with 7 consecutive no-flying days and only two days when any task was set. The National Gliding Championhips also held at Lasham were the opposite, with 8 consecutive good flying days, being timed just right.
I mention that I sold my 19 metre Slingbsy Kestrel but want my next glider to be a two-seater so I can take friends flying too. Interestingly, he mentions that quite a few gilder pilots feel the same way and that there are a lot of two-seater gliding syndicates at Lasham. Some of the better-performance ones suffer no performance penalty for having two seats rather than one.
While we are talking, gliders land and a buggy or a pick up goes to haul them back to the launch point. A lady who has been driving the pick up that retrieves the winch cables from the winch lorry at the other end of the runway wants to have lunch, so I take over from her. She briefs me on the subtleties involved as it is a long time since I did this. No power steering on the old pick up but as the second cable is used and the glider zooms up into the sky, I bomb off down the runway to the winch to get the two cables, and drive back to the launch point at about 20 mph. There are lulls in activity as the lift is obviously working and flights get longer.
Gordon goes off for lunch and the launch point is now run by a lady I saw earlier parking her glider. Things get a bit busier with plenty of radio calls to the launch point: one, from the club house informing us that people have arrived for air-experience flights (thank you for telling us) two, someone has landed out and needs an aerotow retrieve (we are short of tug-pilots at the moment so he will have to wait) three, can a twin-engined plane overfly us on his landing as he is visiting the aircraft maintenance facility at the other side of the airfield (yes, but we are a bit busy) and he passes over us at about 100 feet five minutes later landing well down the runway; four, various motor gliders and light planes call us wanting to take off on the grass or the main runway (yes, OK go now or wait a minute or two until a particular launch has finished). In many ways, a typical day at the launch point.
My name is still on the flying list, but there are no spare instructors and I don’t know who has flown and who has not, so I have no idea how long I will have to wait – not that I am in any hurry today. Then I notice an ASK-21, a modern glassfibre two-seater on the launch point. The instructor there is taking a gentleman in a wheelchair for a flight. I walk over and ask him if he will need the glider after this as I need a check flight and am told I can have the glider when he lands – I will just have to find an instructor.
Two hours later, the ASK-21 lands and three of us carefully lift the gentleman out of the front cockpit of the glider and back into his wheelchair. The new launch point controller finds me an instructor 5 minutes later and we line 3 gliders up on the runway for aerotow launches. “What I have done previously?” I am asked – my answer is over 300 hours and I used to have my own Kestrel but have not flown for 3 years or so.
We put on our parachutes and climb in and I run through the checks: Controls (free and clear), Ballast (we are within the limits), Instruments (altimeter set to zero height – the small adjustment I make tells me that the barometetric pressure is dropping as per the weather forecast), Straps (done up and tight), Trim (central), Canopy (locked and tight) and (air) Brakes (lever forward and locked). There is no retractable undercarriage to worry about as the landing wheel is fixed.
But I know there is another pre-take off item and cannot remember it so I have to ask. It is Eventualities. For example, what would I do if the tug engine failed on takeoff? At very low height, land straight ahead on the airfield; if a bit higher, straight ahead in the next farmer’s field; if higher still, do a turn and land across the main runway. Which way would I turn? Round to the left so I would be landing into wind in this case. “OK, you have control” he says.
The tug arrives and a helper brings the tow cable over with the two metal rings on the end. It is attached to the glider nosehook and given a good pull to make sure it is secure. The helper walks over to the wing tip and picks it up so the wings are now level. The launch point controller gives the “take up slack” command and the tug inches forward. When the rope is taut the “all out” command is given and we are moving. The guy holding the wing tip lets go at running speed but I am able to keep the wings level. We gather speed down the runway but no sign of the glider lifting off as we are a bit heavy with two guys weighing 100 kilos (plus in my case) and we are both wearing parachutes – standard kit for gliding but very rare for general aviation. A voice from the back suggests some more back pressure on the stick and we float off the runway just before the tug. There is a crosswind from the right and I correct for this.
We pass the turbulence near some trees at the NW border of the airfield and climb at an average rate of about 5 knots. The tug turns gently and I have no problem keeping in position behind it – just above the turbulence from propeller. About 5 miles NW of the airfield we reach 3,000 feet and I pull the yellow release knob doing a climbing turn to the left while the tug dives off to the right. There is still lift about and after retrimming the glider to fly at just under 50 knots, I try and centre in some lift. However, I am rusty and my flying is clumsy and uncoordinated and I fail to gain any height. I am warned 3 times about looking out before I turn, especially under the upper wing, and eventually this important lesson sinks in. “Try smaller movements on the stick” a voice says, explaining that this will need less correction with the rudder pedals. Surprise, surprise, this works very well and my flying is smoother and more comfortable – all with less effort. It is also much more efficient as large control surface movements create drag. This might not be a problem in a plane with an engine, but is important in gliders where any height lost has to be climbed back somehow which takes time. Competition glider pilots get thermalling down to a fine art if they want to compete effectively, and will exit a thermal if the rate of climb achieved is too low.
For a while, I can enjoy the height and the view. Having released several miles upwind, we are inevitably drifting back to Lasham. More than 30 miles away in the distance, I can see the Solent as well as the English Channel but it is too hazy to see any of the larger ships which would normally be visible on a clear day.
I mention the idea of stalls and spins – exercises I like to do occasionally on my own to keep my flying skills sharp. I try a stall by bringing the stick back gradually so the nose is quite high. However, the glider just mushes and rocks up and down. The ASK-21 is a difficult glider to stall anyway and we are heavy so the centre of gravity is well forward making the glider quite stable. I try the same thing again but give it a bootful of rudder as the nose nods up and the wing drops and I recover and straighten up. A voice from the back asks “was that a spin?” “No,” I answer, “more like a spiral dive” as the wing did not tuck into a spin as I wanted. Correct answer. We are now at 1,500 feet and I do some wingovers or chandelles and the last one is quite decent with the yaw string on the canopy staying centred, meaning I am not slipping or skidding in my turn.
We are now near the NW corner of the airfield at about 1,000 feet which is adequate height for an older ASK-13 training glider but way more than is needed for a glassfibre ASK-21. Doing aerobatics this low would not be wise, so I do a long wide circuit trimming the airspeed gradually to an increased speed of 55 knots. But at the top of the final leg, the airspeed has increased to over 60 knots so I gently pull back on the stick and the speed reduces as the nose comes up. Now that I have the correct approach speed again, I can use the airbrakes and land on the grass next to the aerotow launch point. We have been airborne for 35 minutes with about 15 minutes of that gained from staying in thermals.
As we bring the glider back to the launch point, I am that I am OK to fly solo. This is a very pleasant surprise as I had imagined it would take several check flights to achieve this, so an hour later I have my first solo flight for years. It is a lovely feeling to get my wings back.