Father and Son Soaring

This weekend, my son Kevin, got back in the air for the first time this year.  We went up to Harris Hill later in the afternoon, not really caring whether there was good soaring or not - he just wanted to get a flight in.  Who was I to say no?

It was quiet when we showed up but there was an ASK-21 on the line - number 8, and we did a walkaround, then strapped in and got ready for takeoff.  Winds were light, although they had favored a North landing for most of the day.

After we took off and were suitably high enough, I turned over the flying to Kevin, who immediately realized how rusty you get when you don't fly for a few months.  To his credit, flying tow from the back seat of the ASK-21 is a little more difficult and he hung in there without getting too far out of line from the tow plane. 

We let off at 2,000 above the field and found our first thermal.  Kev flew some sort-of circles as he tried to remember how to fly a circle at a constant airspeed.  It didn't help that I kept telling him to tighten up on one side and lessen the bank on the other to move us into the lift.  Nevertheless, we managed to climb steadily and pretty soon were at 4,000 feet on the altimeter (about 2,500 above the field) before it began to peter out.

We moved North out over the valley since the low ground seemed to be where the thermals were being generated and found several more thermals.  We hung in there on one for a good 10 minutes and Kevin finally started smoothing out and centered the strongest lift.

After a few awhile, we decided to head back to the field.  We'd seen a few other gliders in the air, particularly number 6, which had stayed above us most of the time.  I had Kevin run through the checklist as we approached the initial pattern entry altitude.  He's been taught to use WEAT as a memory aid, so I had him run through it.

W - Wind.  "Hmm.  Winds are light, I've only landed North on the couple of flights I've had this year, let's land South.  Slight tailwind, but nothing we can't handle."

E- Emergency?  "Nope.  No emergency."

A- Airport Surface. "Nobody on the surface, the tow plane is parked over by the hangar.  We've got the field all to ourselves."

T - Traffic.  "Nope, don't see any....."  

Kevin called out, "Straight ahead!"  At the same time, I spotted number 6 flying slightly lower than us and heading in the opposite direction.  I'd entered the downwind leg for a South landing while he'd entered the downwind leg for a North landing.  Opposite directions, similar altitudes.

I maneuvered out of his way and did a 180 to change direction and follow him in for a North landing.  We both stopped near each other and discussed what had happened.  In the end, neither of us did anything wrong.  I probably should have landed North because that was the prevailing direction for most of the day.  But, I wanted to practice a South landing and...well...we more or less had the field to ourselves.  Except we didn't.

The other pilot had obviously not spotted us as soon as we had spotted him.  He was a little more alarmed at what had happened, particularly because he had done a scan of the traffic pattern before entry.  Twice.

No harm, no foul.  What was supposed to happen is what did happen and the result was a non-event.  See-and-avoid is based on one or both pilots seeing and avoiding.  In our case, even if neither of us had seen each other, it would have simply been a close call - and frankly, not nearly as close as we are when we thermal together.  But that's usually when you are intentionally flying near each other.  This was not intentional.

Lessons learned?  Well...nothing really to change in my operational procedures other than to be sure I remember to follow WEAT in addition to the pre-landing checklist.  Keep a sharp eye out, remember that even when there are just you and one other aloft that when you enter the traffic pattern, that's when you are most likely to be in the same place, perhaps at the same time.

First REAL flying of the Season

Amazingly,  just two days after the snow picture in my previous post, I had some great flights at our Wednesday night training session.

All day it looked pretty iffy with low overcast and wind.  The forecast, though, promised a North wind, giving us ridge lift and clearing clouds in the afternoon.  Sure enough, right on cue, the overcast parted and we went to mostly sunny by about 4pm.

I headed up to Harris Hill and did my pre-flight of number 6, a dear friend of mine by now, and was the first to take off into the North wind with 10 gusting to 15 right on the ridge.  Up, up, up, we went as we met the lift from the wind off the end of the runway, climbing at about 1,000 feet per minute.  I released 120 seconds later at 2,000 feet above the airport.

Number 6 and I are good friends

I decided to probe the ridge for expected lift and headed East to the other side of the ridge while I still had altitude to search for it in case it wasn't there.  All I found was fairly strong 4-6 knot sink with some sections of zero sink.  I returned quickly, trying a different path so I didn't fly through the sink but it was no help.

Arriving over the Western section of the ridge, there were pockets of what I thought were ridge lift but when I reversed course they didn't seem to still be there.  I tried figure 8's when I found it again but fairly quickly, I needed to get into the landing pattern.  With the winds being gusty, it was going to be a North landing and that's nothing to fool around with.  I sped up, entered downwind and made my base turn close in.

I hate that first base turn - you feel like you've hit a brick wall and the runway starts to rise up to meet you MUCH faster than you are approaching it.  It's partly an optical illusion, but also quite real.  As you turn base, you are headed toward a higher section of terrain and simply flying towards it makes it look like it is rising up to meet you, but you also have to beat it into the wind, which costs you altitude.

I sped up a little more and angled in towards the runway, then realized I was going to make it with no sweat.  I opened the spoilers, checked my airspeed and landed a little further down the runway than I had actually intended, but it was all good.

The second flight was the best one.  When I got out of the glider after the first flight, the wind had died down quite a bit, which explained the lack of lift on the ridge.  Someone asked me if the clouds were working.  Duh?  I was so focused on flying the ridge that I couldn't really answer it.  Stupid.  I had been mistaking thermal lift on the ridge for ridge lift.

Determined not to make that mistake this time, I launched again and got off tow in the middle of a beautiful thermal.  I managed to center it and rode it up to 6,000 feet!  Looking at the clouds much closer now, I saw that they seemed to be lined in a street, although the actual clouds themselves weren't the classic flat bottom puffy cumulus you normally see.  They were sort of wispy and torn up a bit.

I followed the street out a bit and connected with another thermal and rode it up to 6,900 feet.  Then, I spotted a street about 3 miles to the East.  Feeling brave and knowing I had plenty of altitude to make it there and back, I put the nose down and flew through the expected sink, arriving about 800 feet lower.  The street and thermals weren't as strong over there with mild thermals but mostly zero sink, so I headed back to the original street, again another 800 feet lower and connected with a nice thermal that took me right back up to 6,500.  Below me, most of the snow was gone from the farms on the hilltops with just a trace left in the shadows of trees and buildings.

The rest of the flight, I flew up and down the street experimenting with "dolphin" flight, a technique I read about this winter.  You speed up between thermals, then pull up sharply when you encounter lift.  Trying it out, I could fly perhaps 2 miles fairly quickly and lose just 2-300 feet, an improvement over simply straight gliding.

It was getting late, so I put out the spoilers and brought myself down after an hour or so.  Lower down, there was quite a bit of 2 knot lift still available.  Ignoring it, I entered the pattern for another North landing.  With the wind a bit less than before, the final approach was less turbulent and that sinking feeling less pronounced.  I put the glider down reasonably close to my aim point and rolled to a stop near the main hangar.  All in all, a great way to start the new flying season!

Wha...!!!??

It's flying season, alright!  Whoo hoo!  Let's get out there and catch some...what?  A little late season snow to remind us that although the winter was unusually mild, yes Virginia, it can snow in late April around here at times.  And does.

With a 70 degree day and short sleeves just 3 days ago, the cold rain that moved in over the weekend (cancelling flying...AGAIN) turned into snow overnight.  Cool temps will continue this week, but my 5+ years of living here tell me that we'll turn the corner and experience increasing temps starting with the last weekend of April.

2-33 Refurb Continues

Title this post "Number 3 returns home!"

We received number 3's main fuselage frame and horizontal stabilizer back from K & L Soaring.  They sandblasted, repaired, and painted the steel and returned it to factory new.  In fact, one of our members who was a Schweizer employee remarked that they never left the factory looking as nice as it does now.

Here's what we sent them:

And here's what it looked like when it returned:

K & L sandblasted the frame, then filled it with oil and pressurized it.  The found and repaired any areas that leaked -including one porous repair weld and some minor damage near the skid plate attach point.

Now, we'll reinstall the controls, then send it up to be recovered by a professional nearby, and then begin the process of reinstalling the interior.  Optimistically, we'd like the process to take about 8 weeks.  We'll see how long it REALLY takes, but everyone is anxious to get number 3 back to the line for duty.