Most amusing un-landout

Not quite along the same lines, but still a good story.

I flew out about 45 miles to the West of Sunflower
(Near Hutchinson, KS) one not so great looking day.
I got to an airport I had landed at the weekend before
when trying to fly home from another glider field out
in Western Kansas. 'Neat,' I thought. 'I will complete
last weekend's flight.'

So, I started back and things got bad. Real bad.
And fast. Minor OD'ing, and lots of shadow out in
front of me. The cu were disappearing fast. The guys
at home were staying up, but it looked really bleak
for me. I was down to about 800 feet when the smoke
from a small brush fire in some farmer's back yard
got up to me. Climb and drift. Got to 1500 feet,
and drifted about 5 miles away. Went back, and repeated
the process. I think I spent nearly 2 hours drifting
and climbing to less than 2000 feet, then gliding back
to the same little fire.

I told the guys back home that if I could get high
enough to glide over to Sylvia, I would probably land
there. They were hanging in there and trying to encourage
me, but it was getting darker and later. And it sounded
from their reports, that they were on a downhill slide.

I finally got high enough to drift and float back downwind
to Sylvia (slightly away from home from where I was,
but an airport rather than a field). So, I called
and said I was heading there. I would call them in
a bit and let them know my fate. They were still up
and indicated the whisps were working, but just barely.

I got to Sylvia at 600 feet, gear down and set up to
land, when I hit a bump over the gas station. Lift!
And all the way around! Gear back up, and I called
to say 'I've got lift!' They responded. After a long,
slow climb, I was at 3000 AGL, and ready to start working
back east into the shadow. I wasn't high enough to
get home, but there were a few whisps out ahead of
me. I called them to pass along the good news.

A bit of lift at the first whisp, and a little closer
to being able to get home. I call and tell them I
am on my way, and just need one more little climb.
No reply. They must all be on the ground by now.

The next whisp, and a bit more lift. I am now about
20 miles out, and 3000 AGL, so I figure that even with
a little headwind, the Zuni and I can get home. I
call and let them know I will be back in about 15 minutes.
Still no reply.

10 minutes out, I give a call saying I will be there
in just a bit. I make another call 5 miles out, and
buzz the field, overjoyed to be home, as it is total
overcast, and now threatening rain where I had just
been.

The field is empty. Nobody is there. Not even my
van and trailer. Hmm. This can't be good, I thought.
Pattern, land, and push the Zuni over to where my
trailer was last time I saw it.

Nothing on the field. No note, no signs of life, just
the car of a friend. Ah, he must have decided to go
get me. But, I had told them I was coming home. Why
didn't they turn on the base station radio in my van
and call to see if I was still up? Oh, well.

I walk about a mile to the field owners house. He
isn't home. I go to a house I use to know, and ask
if I can borrow their phone. I call my friend's wife
(the one who's car is at the field), and she hasn't
heard anything from him. I figured he would have at
least called her to say he was going to be late, as
he had to go get someone. Call the owner of the field
I told them I might be landing at. No answer. I call
another friend in town. No answer.

In desperation, I call 911. 'Sorry, this isn't an
emergency, but if you guys see a silver and black Chevy
Van pulling a 30 foot long white trialer, can you tell
him to go back to the gliderport?'

My friend had gone to where I said I might be landing
an hour and a half previous. He cannot fild the field
because it is pouring down rain. Visibility is less
than 50 feet. He ends up in someone's driveway, gets
directions, and has a minor issue when backing out.
The guy's mailbox lost, and my trailer got a minor
scratch on the back end. He finally gets back just
before the sun would have gone down (but it was already
getting dark because of the storms). He told me his
tale, and we put the plane away. About half an hour
later, the rain and wind hit the field.

A week later, the owner of the field asked me 'What
the heck was going on last Saturday?' It seems he
was listening on a police scanner and heard the call
go out to try and retreive my retreive! Flight time
that day was 3:45. 45 minutes out, and three hours
to get back home! Retrieve time and miles not included.

Steve Leonard
Wichita, KS
Zuni 2 ZS