Day One

Day One – March 21, 2008

I had my first flight in Piedmont Soaring Society’s SGS 2-33 about two years ago and have been hooked on soaring ever since. That was the first time I ever laid eyes, much less flown, an airplane without an engine. I’ve had many flights in many high performance and/or luxury aircraft because of my job, but there was something about the simplicity and challenge of un-powered flight that gave me a funny feeling. I’ve pulled 9.3 G’s in an F-16 and flew right seat in a business jet from Wichita, Kansas to Charlotte, North Carolina, but nothing compares to the art of searching out lift and using it to stay aloft as long as possible; especially when you know that every landing is a dead-stick landing and there is no chance of a go-around if you miss the approach.

I remember feeling somewhat confident in my flying abilities (before today I had 2.1 hours total flying time) after my first glider ride. Today, every ounce of that confidence was thrown out of the air vent. When I had my intro ride, Gary did most of the flying. He let me take the stick at altitude and do some shallow turns in both directions. After the turns were done, Gary let me “follow” him on the controls as he entered the pattern and landed. I felt what was going on with the controls and thought to myself “piece of cake”.

As I said before, it’s been two years since my first glider flight. I’ve done a lot of reading and researching since then. My friend Travis took a flight about the same time as I did and had similar thoughts about soaring, so we talk about the subject quite a bit. Between reading and my talks with Travis, my confidence level was pretty high. I memorized terms, checklists and procedures from every book I got my hands on. I watched videos, read NTSB reports and understood the FAR’s pertaining to gliders. All it took was one flight with an experienced CFIG to wash every nugget of information out of my little peanut brain.

The day started with a friendly handshake between Charles (CFIG) and I. We did a pre-flight inspection of the 2-33 and since I’ve been an avionics tech for thirteen years and an A&P for about two years I was able to answer all of his questions and answer in the affirmative when he asked me if I knew about this or that. I think I can pinpoint the exact second that every bit of my knowledge left my head and entered oblivion. It was after I gave the thumbs up to my wing runner, wagged my rudder and announced “Two Hundred Feet!” While we were on tow Charles was explaining several things to me, none of which I remember (other than say “two hundred feet” out loud). I was instructed to lead any turn with the rudder, adverse yaw, watch your pitch, back pressure, keep the yaw string straight, don’t drop the nose and watch your pitch. Don’t drop the nose! And...we enter the pattern and grease a landing. Flight number one is complete, “you want to go again?” Of course I do.

Sitting again in the 2-33 with Charles behind me saying “Do you remember the checklist?” Ahh, Umm. A is for altimeter, field elevation is eight hundred feet. B is for seatbelts and uhh ballast. That’s all of the B’s right? A “yes” came from behind. Mmm, cable and/or tow rope, canopy, and uhh… the rest of the checklist that I forgot comes at me from the rear seat.

The second flight starts much like the first and again I announce “two hundred feet”. We go around the pattern until we get to 3600 feetMSL. Once we get to 3600 feet, the left wing rises, Charles tells me to release and I comply. We were in this mystical thing that I have yet to comprehend called a thermal. I’ve read about such phenomena and understood what the book said, but until now had no idea what it actually meant. What it means is that you’re going to fly very tight, steeply banked circles to gain altitude while you’re trying not to puke all over your lap. We eventually made our way up to 4000 feet with me on the controls and Charles guiding me from the backseat. Again I hear the same criticism (don’t get me wrong, I’ll take every ounce of criticism that comes my way if it makes me a better pilot) but this time it is a lot less harsh since, according to Charles, I’m getting the hang of this turning thing and not letting the nose drop. Well, not as much as I was on the last flight. Again, I’m in my own confused world when we entered the pattern and landed. I had my hand and feet on the controls, but I remember very little about the actions that caused me to live another day.

Someone was waiting in line to do some training in the 2-33 so Charles and I took a break. He took this time to give me the run down on where I was making errors. I really don’t remember much from that lesson either.

After a break of about an hour or so, I was strapped in the front seat again. “This time”, Charles said, “I’ll let you have the airplane for the last couple of hundred feet of the aero tow so you’ll get a feel for it.” I should have known something was wrong since he was smiling when he said it. A few minutes later I found out why I had that feeling. We were taking a 3000 foot tow and about 2800 feet Charles gave me the airplane. About a half a second later the tow plane was dancing all over the canopy. Charles quickly took control over the airplane and got us back into position. He then foolishly gave me the airplane again. He has shouting directions to me as soon as he saw that I was making bad decisions. Needless to say, by the time he got one correction out of his mouth I gave him a reason to shout another one.

I must admit, Charles is a much bigger man than I will ever be. I could not see myself sitting in the back of an airplane while someone up front is trying his best to kill me. Ahh the life of a flight instructor, God bless ‘em.

We got off tow not a minute too soon for me and again made our way into a thermal. I was at the controls for this one and was pretty surprised to see that I had gained a couple of hundred feet by myself. Charles complemented me and the world was happy again, almost happy enough to wash that aero tow bitterness from my mouth. On this flight I felt a lot more comfortable with the controls and I wasn’t fighting the airplane anymore. At first I was trying to make it do what I wanted it to do...big mistake. I learned pretty early on that the airplane is going to fly itself and all I can do is (quoting Thomas Knauff) control direction, airspeed and keep the aircraft streamlined. Once I relinquished power, the 2-33 and I got along much better and I have no problem at all admitting that I’m the one that gave up.

This flight was much like the others with Charles teaching me how to fine tune turns and pitch control, which are not nearly as easy as they sound on paper. He also let me fly the pattern, directing me the whole way. He told me when to unlock and deploy the dive brakes and how much to put out. He gave me the landing checklist that, of course, I can't remember and talked me down along the pattern. He kept me aligned on the downwind leg and made sure I was holding about a third dive brakes, “watch your speed, watch the speed!” and told me when to turn onto a base and final leg “watch your speed, don’t dive! You’re diving! Okay, good, keep half dive brakes, yaw string, pitch control, you’re still yawing straighten it out, good, good. Okay hold your attitude, hold it hold it wings level, flare out a little.” The next thing I knew we were on the ground and Charles said “You landed that one by yourself.” The only thing I could think to say was “Wow, thank you.” I’m still in a little bit of denial that I was the sole stick actuator on that landing, but the man said I landed it so that’s what I'm going with.

As we were towing the 2-33 back to the grid the tow driver asked if we were going again and Charles said “yes” then turned to me and said “if that’s okay with you.” Of course I said yes. I think I was more relieved than anything that he was willing to do it again, but I doubt I'm the worst student he's ever had. Time will tell.

On the fourth tow I announced two hundred feet and we were off for another 2800 feet. Same as before he gives me the airplane on the last two hundred feet and I goof up the same as before. He reigns the tow plane back in and again (this guy loves punishment) give me the controls. This time is worse than the others because I am all over the place and there were a few times where I completely lost the tow plane. The last time I had the airplane I was grossly out of position and I felt the tow rope being pulled taut and out of panic I released. Luckily we were only about a hundred feet below the scheduled release. Charles asked me why I released and I told him the truth. Nothing further was said about it and I considered that a good thing. If I’m not being yelled at, I'm doing okay.

Again, we hit a few weak thermals and I was in control most of the time feeling better and better. It's amazing how fast a person can learn a three dimensional world enough not to pee all over one’s self. He asked me from the back seat “Do you know what stalls are?” I said I did and he explained to me how we were going to do one. Much like a lot of people I was just a little nervous about stalls because I've heard a lot of horror stories. When he brought the nose up, we got the buffeting then suddenly dropped and he regained control. “Now you try it” is what I heard from the back seat. So I did what I thought was right and I pulled and pulled and finally got the 2-33 to stall. I think it was the point where we were in a 45 degree dive that I realized that I was taking my reading way too literally. I read that in a forward stall you drop the nose then let the airplane pick up speed for a second and pull back on the stick. This might be the case for some sailplanes, but not the one I was flying. What I should have done was pulled back, let the nose drop, then pull back again immediately. I think I lost 50 feet at least, but I had plenty of airspeed to burn. We did a couple more highly developed stalls so I could get the feel for it, and after that I did fine. I’ve never been scared of stalls, unless I was sitting in the back of a commercial jet, and luckily that has never happened. I actually enjoyed doing stalls. It was just like that feeling you got when you were a kid and the pirate ship was nearly upside down, but I never want to see one when I’m not practicing them.

By now the wind is really kicking out of the northwest so we land to the south, which means hanging barely over the trees and hangars, then down to the runway. I flew the approach, but Charles landed since we had to get so close to the trees. I can tell that this is not his first rodeo.

Now we’re on the ground and again it’s a run down on what I need to improve on, where I’m doing well, and the things that I’m going to have to look at in the future. I have to say to all of you flight instructors out there…..better you than me.

Total time: 1.3
Total Flights: 4