First Soaring Experience

Great Post Jay!!!! I've cross posted to r.a.s

Come on out to Las Vegas between late May and later Sept, and we'll show you
how to really soar!!

BTIZ
CFIG

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
news:HfrRe.320147$xm3.78586@attbi_s21...
A friend of ours has been after us to fly up to Ames, IA (home of "the
other" Iowa university, Iowa State) to go flying with the "Silent Knights"
soaring club for months.

Today was the planned day, but things were up in the air after my
mother-in law passed away unexpectedly on Sunday. Mary has been
incredibly knotted up with the usual emotion, phone calls, emails, and
preparation for the funeral services to come -- but she wasn't heading to
Wisconsin till tomorrow, so when I asked her if she wanted to cancel our
long-standing plan to fly to Ames, she replied in the negative. Rather,
she was hoping the day would take her mind off of everything.

What an experience! With Mary as PIC the four of us touched down in Ames
at around 10 AM, in picture-perfect (lousy for soaring, great for flying)
weather, and we were soon underway. We met Paul (our instructor pilot)
and Rollin (our tow pilot), drew straws to see who would go first, and
soon Mary was being towed behind Rollin in the Super Cub.

20 minutes later, she returned, googly eyed and talking a mile a minute.
It was a terrific ride, she said, and it was good to see that the
experience had clearly pulled her out of the funk she'd been in for days.

Then it was my turn. Climbing into the two-place Blanik L-13 was fairly
straight-forward (certainly easier than getting into the Super Cub
towplane!), and quite comfortable (although hot), once strapped in. After
a few minutes of pre-flight briefing (basically, what not to touch, and
the signals we both needed to know), we were ready to go.

With my friend holding the left wing tip, Rollin fire-walled the Super
Cub, and the long wings were instantly alive. Soon our wing-runner
couldn't keep up, but that didn't matter, as we no longer needed his
assistance -- we were airborne in 100 feet! With Paul at the controls,
we slowly climbed out, with that Super Cub impossibly close, seemingly
super-imposed in one spot on our plexiglas windshield. It was more like
riding a slow-motion elevator than flying, as we just seemed to levitate
straight up.

As we climbed through 500 feet, he had me take the rudder controls only,
and showed me how the rudder was used to move the towplane around the
windshield. This was strange stuff, for a Spam Can pilot -- imagine,
using the rudder pedals for something other than ground steering! :-)
Only after I could keep the Super Cub in the same part of the windshield
did he let me take the stick, telling me just to keep the wings level
while using the rudders to steer.

Suddenly, the Super Cub wasn't super-imposed in the same spot anymore! I
was initially all over the place, as I played with various stick and
rudder pressures, trying to gauge how much pressure would result in any
given movement. Gradually, I settled down, and with great concentration
was able to keep the tow plane relatively centered in the windshield.

Then Paul "boxed the wake" -- a standard maneuver that took us all around
the tow-plane's prop-wash, from lower left to upper left, to upper right,
to lower right. It was very smooth, and interesting to watch as the tow
rope would move around, trying to yank the Super Cub's butt out of line.
It was easy to see Rollin's reaction on the rudders as Paul would move the
glider around behind him, and you could tell that being the tow pilot was
not a piece of cake.

When I asked if I could try "boxing the wake", at first Paul said no, it
was a later lesson. Then he thought about it, and decided to let me have
a crack at it -- so I was soon doing my best to yank the tow plane's tail
off. It seemed that way anyway, although after a minute or two I got the
hang of it, and was able to successfully "box the wake" -- which earned me
a big attaboy (and, later, exclamation marks in my log book).

Then, poof! -- Paul cut us loose from the tow plane, and everything went
silent. We were about 3000 feet AGL, and the sky out front was suddenly
quite empty, as we veered right, and Rollin veered left. I was suddenly
aware that we were SOARING, not flying around behind an engine, and it was
a strange feeling of exhilaration and fear. What would we do if we
couldn't make the airport? Where the hell WAS the airport, anyway?

In all of my concentration, I realized I had NO idea where the airport
was! Luckily, as I muttered this under my breath (and Paul, in the back
seat, clearly heard it -- MAN it's quiet in there!), he answered (and I
simultaneously saw) that the runways were directly underneath us, and we
really had no worries.

Then he gave me the controls, and I started to see how this soaring stuff
worked. Heck, the VSI was pegged in the middle -- there was NO rate of
descent, even though we were seemingly standing still! At 45 knots,
there was absolutely no sense of motion, so long as I kept our drift
string (taped on the windshield) running parallel to our direction of
flight. As soon as that got out of whack, we were crabbing or slipping,
and then the wind noise would pick up, and you could tell we were actually
moving. Stepping on the pedals would make the string flail back and
forth, but I soon figured out how had to press, and when -- and the string
just sat there, motionless.

So THAT is what those rudder pedals are for!

I was amazed at the maneuverability of the big bird. After a bit of
straight and level, and then turning to a heading, I was able to turn that
glider around in what felt like its own length! We were wheeling and
soaring like a bird, and all was right with the world.

When I asked Paul about stalls, he had me do one -- wow! I had thought
45 knots felt slow -- but this was ridiculous! We literally STOPPED the
thing in mid-air, and sat there like a "just ran off a cliff" cartoon
character -- and then the nose fell through, straight and level. No
wing drop, no loss of altitude (well, maybe 50 feet), and we were back in
straight and level flight.

Too soon we had run out of time -- there was no lift to be had under the
high broken overcast -- and it was time to land. I was amazed to see (and
feel) how effective the spoilers and dive brakes were -- deploying and
stowing them felt just like retarding and adding throttle! Paul expertly
swung us around the pattern, and dropped us on a dime, right back where we
started!

What a great day. Our other friends went up, too, and I was able to
participate in the whole rigarmarole of soaring, from dragging the gliders
with cars, to hooking up, to running alongside, to tying down. We then
went out for a huge lunch, and the four of us flew back to Iowa City, fat,
dumb and happy.

I don't really have any interest in getting my glider rating -- there
doesn't seem to be any utility in it -- but, man, I sure do understand you
guys that have been raving about it. It's a real aviation challenge that
gives instant gratification!
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"