How do you virtually soar? With a computer and a copy of Condor, the soaring simulator, of course! Not only does Condor allow you to fly virtually, it allows you to fly with other people online.
There are several advantages to Condor that supplement real world experience. First, you can repeat a task at no cost. Need another try at that landing? Reload the scenario.
Second, you can refly the exact same conditions. That means you can try a cross country task one way, then try it a different way using identical wind and thermal conditions to see if you can improve.
Third, it teaches you what NOT to do in a safe environment. How do you realize that you made a mistake in the real world? You land out and call for the trailer. In Condor, you reset and look at the chain of events that caused you to make the mistake.
Recently, in an attempt to help me learn to make better cross country decisions, I convinced several HHSC club members to start a Wednesday Flight Night. I solicited interest via email to our club members and then the interested ones met up at Harris Hill for a LAN party to iron out all of the kinks before trying to fly online. Last night was our first online session and I had a great deal of fun. We even had a Teamspeak server set up so we could chat via voice back and forth.
The task was a relatively easy and benign one with light winds and good thermals. Everyone finished and we had a great time. I think this is going to be a lot of fun until the real thing comes back around.
Interestingly, there seems to be an ambivalence about simulation and its role in soaring. Most of the people that responded to the weekly league are either junior members or Condor junkies already. None of the experienced seniors responded or showed any interest. Not that they are required to, but there seems to be a bias against simulation from those who have years of experience. The whispers are that it could teach you 'bad habits' that you might transfer to the cockpit.
Maybe, maybe not. There's no evidence of that and I know that flying in real life entails greater risk and correspondingly increased caution. Maybe others don't but I remind myself that I fly for fun. It's not worth risking my life to accomplish some stupid goal and I fly accordingly.
Snowbird 2012
One note on the 75th annual Harris Hill Snowbird contest. It was pretty much weathered out. The winds were quite strong both days of the contest and the only flights we got off were a few in the morning. Knowing this, I was one of those flights. It was an extremely interesting experience.
I decided to fly the Schweizer 1-26 because it has great spoilers and low energy, making it ideal for the spot landing portion of the contest. (You have to stay up for X amount of time, touching down as close to that time as possible and stopping as close to a marked point as you can) Winds were 12 knots gusting to 19 and more or less crosswind.
It was obvious from the flight or two before me that the wind was MUCH stronger a short distance above the field as they basically pointed their nose into the wind and parked in one spot until time to come down. On the field, while 12 knots sounds like a lot, I've become gradually more comfortable with those types of winds and I wasn't too worried. If it had been gustier or any higher, I wouldn't have gone and in past years I definitely wouldn't have taken off but I felt it was within my limits and those of the aircraft.
Takeoff went smoothly and I was airborne quickly, adjusting for the crosswind behind the tow plane. Initial climb out had some minor turbulence and shear but nothing I hadn't flown in before. A couple of bumps on tow were healthy but not the kind that surprise you.
Sure enough, the wind was blowing. We turned left and flew to the end of the ridge and were nearly at release height! In still air, it usually takes about two circles to get there. I noted that and the tow plane dropped me off at the side of the ridge that faced the wind. I released and turned to where I expected the lift to be. Suddenly, everything was very smooth. I was in localized wave lift and, feeling quite pleased, I parked myself in it with my nose into the wind.
I looked down at the hang glider takeoff area and watched as it sloooowly moved BACKWARDS under my wings. The wind was blowing faster than I was flying! I increased my airspeed to 55 mph and watched it slow up but it was STILL moving backwards. I pointed the nose down a slight bit more and accelerated to 60 mph. That was it, I stopped moving. The wind at 2,000 feet above the field was blowing a mile a minute. Cool.
I kept myself upwind of the field during the flight and as I turned back to enter the landing pattern, made certain that I stayed close and didn't overshoot my final turn due to the wind. I added about 5 knots to my approach speed to compensate for wind shear and gusts and made my base leg turn. As I started down final, I got some reasonable shear and rotor and I decided not to try to spot land for two reasons. One, there are club members in the zone who measure the landing and I was worried I might veer off to one side or the other and hit one. The other reason is the spot landing zone is at the far right and is bordered by a steep hill. The way the wind was blowing, even if I landed okay, I might have been turned and gone over the side. I decided to play it safe and land in the middle on the grass.
They cut off flying right after that when a 2-33 reported a loss of control on tow. Apparently, the shear was too much and despite full rudder and aileron, the aircraft wouldn't change direction. I think what was going on was the wind would blow harder at some times than others and that would move the shear and turbulence back and forth across the ridge. In any case, I agreed after I landed that it was probably wise to call the contest. With the forecast for even more wind we didn't need to wait around for it to show up.
And that was the 75th Snowbird.
