Ian wrote:
Absolutely. A quick glance at the statistics in S&G will show that
gliding attracts plenty of people - and then loses them again. Even
though many customers have no intention of taking more than the trial
lesson (not a joyride. dear me not a joyride. certainly not a joyride.
a nice, legal, trial lesson), the attrition rate for those who do join
is dreadful.

I started out with my club this past summer. By an interesting
coincidence, three other guys also started out at almost the same time as
I did. We didn't all show up all the time, but we often shared our
instructor, helped push each other out, had ground instruction together,
talked over our different experiences, etc. I even started carpooling to
the airport with one of them who happens to live nearby.

Now only my carpool buddy and I are left. Some times I even have my doubts
about him, but that's probably because he's progressing slower and isn't
able to fly as often. Of the other two, one had Real Life intervene and
the other got frustrated with the amount of not-flying he was doing. (He
was keeping a running count of the number of times he had come to the
airport and not been able to fly, due to some bad luck with scheduling and
mechanical problems. I think he got up to five or six.)

And I am afraid that's down to clubs and members, many of whom think
that learning to glide is a) a good trial of character and b) a source
of unpaid ground labour for private owners. Let's face it, learning to
glide - or trying to learn to glide - can be a miserable experience.

I don't have experience with other operations, but as far as I can tell my
club is very good about this. And yet I still see a lot of fresh faces
come... and go.

Maybe it's just inherent in a complicated activity that takes a lot of
dedication that people will drop out. We always hear about how gym
memberships surge after the New Year, then 90% of the new members stop
going after a little while.

I have a bit of perspective from the other side. I did powered training
many years ago, up to and a bit past solo, then quit. The reasons are
complicated but I think a big one is that it was just too daunting. Flying
looks (and is!) fun, but there are a lot of rules and procedures and
little details to know.

When we imagine flying before we start learning it, it's often the classic
"kick the tires and light the fires". The reality can be a letdown from
that, whether it's remembering all the right things to say on the radio or
getting up before dawn so you can help wrestle the club ships out of the
hangar, then sit around for a couple of hours before it's your turn in the
tow list. Of course the plusses far outweigh the minuses, but this sudden
realization that there is actual work involved can be a downer.

The club environment can be a big help there. When you're not flying you
get to talk about flying with a variety of interesting people with
contagious enthusiasm, and see and hear the kinds of things you'll be able
to do as you become more advanced. But even then, a lot of people don't
stick with it.

What more can be done? (An honest question, not rhetorical.)

--
Michael Ash
Rogue Amoeba Software