Roger's Soaring Blog

Flight Review

2013-03-12T22:30:00.001-07:00

It's been quite a while since I have posted... and over two months since I have flown. January weekends were busy with family and organization commitments, and the weather was not so great. Then in February we had a death and two births in my immediate family, so weekends were again taken up. Lots of stuff happening with our soaring club, though... repairs, moving and working on equipment, and making plans for the future.

Private pilots need to have a "biennial" Flight Review (what we call a BFR) every two years, and mine expired in February. Another pilot and I scheduled ours for this weekend. It consists of an hour of ground instruction/quizzing, and an hour of flight instruction or three takeoffs and landings. The weather forecast was iffy for Saturday, with possibly high winds, but we all went up to Crystalaire hoping for the best. By the time we finished the ground meeting, the winds were 10-12 knots, pretty well aligned with the runway, so it was not a problem at all.

In the ground portion we talked a lot about emergency procedures, aeronautical decision making, and reviewed several serious accidents (one of which was a fatal crash by a friend of ours). We spent some time talking about optimal bank angles for minimizing altitude loss (45 degrees is best), and how that applies to low-altitude turns during rope breaks etc., and how it applies in thermalling.

The other pilot decided he was not ready to do the flight portion of his review this day (he's not flown much lately), so the rest of the day was mine. I had never flown with this instructor before, so I was a bit nervous. It's not a pass-or-fail test, but it is still a critical review, and I always want to do well.

Flight #1 was a 3000' tow. I demonstrated imminent stall signs, and immediate recovery from stalls. We did several steep turns and measured the altitude loss, to confirm what we had discussed on the ground. When we were preparing to land, another glider had not cleared the runway and I had to discuss options for avoiding it. My plan was to overfly it and land long, but while we were on final approach the glider cleared out and we landed normally.

Flight #2 was a demonstration of tow plane signals which ended up with a downwind landing.

Flight #2 was intended to be a demonstration of a modified pattern, but based on our position relative to the field (and a too-hasty decision), it turned into a demonstration of a slip to a downwind landing.

My takeoffs, landings, stalls and turns were very good, but some of the other aspects of the flights resulted in some feedback from the instructor - that's why we do these reviews! We exchanged emails later that night to recap the day.

After we were all done, the other pilot and I removed the stabilizer from the ship. It has some significant peeling and flaking of the top surfaces, so we are taking it to a shop to be refinished. That should take about two weeks, so we should have it flying again by early April.

Mind the gap!

2012-12-22T23:49:00.002-08:00

Some places, that means "don't fall in the gap between the platform and the train." In soaring, that means "don't get trapped when the Foehn gap closes under you." I've learned about it in training and read about it, but never experienced it until today.

The RASPtable forecast showed possible wave from a southwest wind. The NWS forecast showed increasing cloudiness after noon in the high desert. Both were spot on! When I arrived at Crystalaire there were lennies far to the west, but it was clear overhead. By the time I was ready to fly, wispy wave clouds were starting to form over the local mountains. I had to wait quite a while for the tow, and we watched rotor clouds forming over the foothills, and increasing wave clouds over the mountains.

I launched at about 12:45 and there was only moderate rotor turbulence on tow. The tow pilot did a great job of dragging me right into the wave lift. When things got smooth, I let off at 7,800 MSL, which at 4,400 AGL was quite a high tow for me. But it worked! I worked the wave back and forth a bit, trying to find the strongest part. It did not form a very long line, and I had the best luck staying pretty stationary over the Devil's Punchbowl and facing into the wind. I bet my groundspeed was only 5 knots.

For quite a while, the only clouds were over the mountains. By the shape of the bottom sections, they were clearly driven by wind, but the tops were not smooth like classic lenticular clouds. There was some wind shear, with Hemlholtz waves visible occasionally. We had rain earlier this week and the mountains were dusted with snow, though not as much as I expected. There were a couple other gliders exploring the wave, but not very close to me. I eventually got to 12,200' MSL, much better than I expected today!

Secondary wave clouds started forming behind me over the desert. Initially they were pretty rough but eventually turned into classic lenticular clouds. Look how smooth the top of this one is. They look like static formations, but if you ever get a close look at the upwind edge you'll see it is constantly forming as the wind moves moist air up into it, and on the downwind edge it is constantly dissolving as the wind pushes the moist air down and it re-evaporates. The smooth top indicates the boundary of fast-flowing, condensed moisture. You can see a gap called the "Foehn gap" between the trailing edge of the clouds over the mountains, and the secondary clouds over the desert.

The "standing waves" appear to keep the clouds in pretty much the same places for quite a while, but in fact they are constantly evolving. The gap in the previous picture disappeared at its western end, as the two clouds merged. Over about a 5 to 10 minute period, that gap got smaller and gradually closed to the east - picture a zipper closing, with me as the pull-tab! I spotted it happening pretty early on, and headed east at a pretty good speed. I was actually higher than the clouds, probably by about 1,500 to 2,000 feet. I suppose I could have hopped over the northern (secondary) wave, but what if it developed even more to the north? So I continued east (in moderate lift, not losing altitude) until I was clear of it. This picture is looking back from where I came. See the narrow gap in the middle of the picture? That was much bigger 5 minutes earlier! I had heard about this phenomenon, so I was prepared for it, but I had never seen it in action.

Along the way, I saw a "cloud bow", a bull's-eye-shaped rainbow in thin clouds below me, with the sun behind me in the opposite direction. I tried to take pictures of it, but I only had a few seconds - and I was concentrating on getting out of the gap - so they didn't come out very well.

You can see the huge difference in cloud cover between picture 1 and picture 4. That cloud growth occurred in about 45 minutes! And hmm... now the cloud was covering the airport! If it grew much bigger, I'd be stuck above the clouds far from the field. I decided to duck under the cloud so I could be sure of getting back, even if that meant cutting my flight short. At this point I was still close to 12,000' MSL, and the cloud base was probably about 8,000' MSL, so I had a lot of altitude to lose. By a combination of speeding up to 80+ knots, and using spoilers, I got down under the clouds. But I had to fight quite a headwind to get back to the airport, which cost even more altitude. I didn't get very low, but low enough that I did not have much altitude left for exploring.

A couple of other gliders and I explored the area to the west of the airport, trying to reconnect with the lower part of the wave. It was there, but not wide enough or strong enough to let me go southwest far enough to really reach the leading edge of the cloud. So I eventually landed after just over an hour. By this time the clouds were covering 70% to 80% of the sky - just like NWS had said.

All in all, a very satisfying, interesting, and challenging flight.

How can there be lift EVERYWHERE?

2012-09-29T20:19:00.003-07:00

I haven't posted for a while, though I have flown. Things have been pretty busy... I'll catch up on some recent events in the next post (I hope).

Today's forecast looked good, but with one caveat: NWS listed "broken cirrus" starting about 2:00 pm. "Broken" is a technical term that means more than half the sky. If that much cirrus came n, it could shut down ground heating. The soaring forecast showed a convergence of winds right across the top of the San Gabriel mountains - that would be good! Driving up from the south about 9:30, I could already see clouds right on the top, and it was way to early for them to be CU from thermal heating. The local instructor I usually check with said they had had great conditions for the last two weeks, and expected more of the same today.

I prepped the Grob 103. The gliderport was hosting a bunch of Boy Scouts flights... between those, a down towplane, a wind shift which meant towing six gliders to the west end of the runway, and a line mixup, I didn't launch until 1:45. Fortunately the cirrus was staying scattered. The lower clouds looked great - more over the mountains than the desert, and cycling fast enough you could tell new ones (good lift) from old ones.

On tow, we had an "event" - I don't know if you'd call it a close call or not. After takeoff we did a 270-degree turn to head south. That took us over the downwind leg for the opposite-direction runway. Fairly abruptly, the towplane climbed, not the typical flying-through-lift jump - and I had to catch up. Looking down, I saw a glider on downwind leg about 100-200 feet below us. I don't know if it caught the tow pilot by surprise and this was "evasive action" or whether he had him well in sight... but it was closer than I've ever come to another glider while on tow.

I let off at 2700' AGL (6100' MSL) in good lift. I found good stuff right away, and took successive thermals up to 8,000, 9,500, and then 10,600 over the mountains. I overflew Mt. Baden-Powell, then went chasing ever higher clouds.

Some like the ones above looked nice and sharp on top, which indicated they were growing and would have lift underneath. But they were cycling so fast that they died before I got to them.

In the next pic you can see I'm close up under some smaller ones. The trick was to look for wisps of moisture that were just starting to condense, and quickly get under them.

The highest I could get was about 11,000 MSL under these clouds. I very rarely hit any serious sink between patches of lift. Eventually I headed out over the desert and... the lift got even better. Away from the mountains, with their moist lift, it was all blue, but there were long straight stretches that I assume were convergence lift. I went probably ten miles straight north and was usually in zero sink or minor lift. Eventually I reached some little lakes and I was still at 10,000+. Then... I hit even MORE thermal lift (with no cloud to mark it) and worked that up to 12,500! This was probably the first time I've found a higher lift ceiling over the desert than over the mountains. It really felt like the lift was EVERYWHERE today. That's not usually possible - what goes up must come down - but if there was a large-scale convergence due to the south wind coming over the mountains, colliding with the mild offshore wind that was building, maybe there was a widespread general uplift in addition to the great thermals.

I decided to come in after about two hours of great flying, and had to use spoilers to get down from 10,000 feet! As I got down near our "report-in" altitude of 5000' MSL, I could see there was a glider staging for takeoff, and a glider on the radio was getting ready to land. Now usually, we have limited ability to go into a "holding pattern", but as I circled just to the west of the airport, I found a wide, gentle thermal. I held there for 10-15 minutes while one glider took off and three landed - and I had gained 1,500' without even trying. Highly unusual!

I ended up with a total flight time of 2 hours and 25 minutes. Everyone I talked to on the ground agreed it was a terrific day for lift.

Friday the 13th? Bah! But still....

2012-07-15T18:02:00.000-07:00

I read quite a few publications about flying, not just soaring, because I want to be the best pilot I can be. It's frequently stated that many accidents come about not because of a catastrophic event, but because of a "chain" of things that lead to a bad situation or bad decision. These things can be actual problems, or issues that stay on the pilot's mind and cause distractions. I try to be very self-aware and keep an eye out for multiple things going wrong. Many of these are just normal things that crop up during flight planning and prep, but some days more of them happen than usual. That doesn't necessarily mean I won't fly, but it makes my "spidey-sense" go on high alert and make sure I'm being extra careful.

I'm not superstitious, but this series of unfortunate events started the night of Friday the 13th.

I thought I was going to have a passenger going for an intro flight on Saturday. That's fine, I like giving rides. He was on and off all evening. He wouldn't get to the gliderport until noon, which meant no smooth early ride, and possibly waiting in line for a towplane if we took off during prime time. It doesn't really make much difference, but it meant I needed to think about which plane to prep, what time to fly, whether anyone else would need the 2-seater, etc.
I found that my PDA (an old HP iPAQ) had lost its memory. That's happened a few times before, usually due to failure to charge the battery in time. But this time the battery and charger were OK, so it's unexplained. Because I have changed computers since the last time this happened, I had to mess around a bit to get the programs and files installed, rather than running a simple restore. And then had to test the GPS to make sure it was working. This took well into the late hours of the evening.

Saturday, before flying, stuff kept happening:

I got a text message that the passenger had decided not to go. The message was from 2:30 in the morning. So I'm wondering: what's up with that? Oh well, at least I'll get to fly the PW5, which is easier to prep and simpler to fly on what was looking to be a good thermal day.
During the preflight inspection, an issue came up with the PW5. I won't go into it here, but it caused me some delay and concern as I had to walk around and search both ships and both trailers, and contact the most recent pilot to ask about it. His phone number had changed, but I contacted him by text message and later talked to him. More extra tasks and delay and distraction.
I usually use my own O2 tank with the PW5's electronic system. Once before, and again today, I could not get the PW5's screw-on connector to seal right, which means O2 leaks out. Probably we need to replace the O-ring again. After trying for quite a while, I decided to use my own Oxymiser system, which means removing the PW5's box and tubing. That's pretty simple, but it does mean using a manual flow control instead having the automatic system come on at 10,000 feet.
I started up my PDA/GPS and it got a good fix. Whew! Last time it didn't, and I didn't get a flight trace. But a few minutes later it popped up the screen demanding the license key (since I had reinstalled SeeYou Mobile last night). Fortunately I have that key in a text file on the device. Unfortunately cut-n-paste wouldn't work, so I had to write down and enter the key manually. Just another annoyance... in 90+ degree heat...

I nearly always take a break after the inspection and prep, have my light lunch, cool down, and then go fly. When I get back to the ship, there are always a few final items to take care of, because I don't like to put certain things into the cockpit because they get hot. When I was nearly ready, I found I needed to make yet another trip back to the "pilot's lounge". On the walk back to the plane I reviewed all the distractions and delays, and decided that they had not accumulated into anything that would keep me from flying. As I mentioned, I'm aware of cumulative distractions, but all these items had been resolved, so I put them out of my mind and focused for the flight. The CU's had been popping since 9:00 but were not overdeveloping, so it looked to be a good day. I took off at 12:45.

Stuff kept happening:

During the tow, the red emergency canopy release handle fell off. Just fell off! I ignored it and focused on the tow, which is a critical part of the flight. I didn't need to be feeling around my feet looking for it while flying formation! Later in the flight, I found that it had nicely landed on the pedestal within easy reach, and it simply screwed back on.
Once I started thermaling, I noticed that the "thermal analyzer" function of SeeYou was not activating. That made me wonder what other settings might not be set the way I wanted, but nothing else arose during the flight.
I received a pulse oximeter for Christmas, but had only tried it once before in flight. This time I tried it again, but I could not see the display and put it away. Later on the ground I saw that it was not detecting my finger. I tried it later at home and it worked fine. Maybe I didn't put it on right, or maybe it got overheated? Another distraction...

All that aside, it turned out to be an outstanding day for soaring! I let off tow in lift and never lost it. Very quickly I got up to 10,000' MSL and never went below that altitude until it was time to come home. Most of the time I was above 11,000, and my max was 12,776.

The CU's coming off the northern edge of the mountains were abundant, close enough to nearly form "cloud streets" at times.

The lift was turbulent, though, with lots of ups and downs. This flight trace is color-coded by vertical speed. It's really rare to see the lift and sink so interleaved.

The CU were not big or strong enough to overdevelop into thunderstorms in this region. I could see to the east that there was a whole north-south line of bigger CU. In the picture you can see that it's hazy brown below the cloudbase, and clear above. (Click on the pic for a better look.) I think there was a convergence of air masses triggering those CU's, different from the ones where I was which seemed to be thermally generated.

And the lift was not just under the clouds, I found lift between them that allowed me to go higher than the cloudbase. This was probably the best thermal lift day I've experienced since coming to Crystal. I didn't really go very far - I've written before about the limitations of flying club planes - but I did go further west and north than I ever have. Someday I'll map out a local cross-country triangle and do some goal-oriented flights. For now I'm just having great fun cloud-hopping at 12,000 feet!

I also went north over the desert and continued to find lift to 10 thousand feet. I flew for nearly two and a half hours. It would not have been a good day for my passenger's intro flight - we would have had to start much earlier in the day when it was not so turbulent.

Weird but it Worked

2012-06-28T22:28:00.001-07:00

Sunday's forecast was for winds from the west or northwest north of the mountains, but from the south down in the L.A. basin. That made for a possible convergence at right angles right on the top of the mountains. It looked like there could be the possibility of mountain wave lift in places. It was warm enough for some thermal heating too, if the winds did not blow them out.

I decided to fly our Grob 103 Twin Astir because I wanted to check out some issues with how it handles. Our club members have been discussing how heavy the aileron controls are, and whether the stick forces are increasing or not. (If any readers have experience with this in Twin Astirs, I'd like to hear about it. This specific model is known to be different from other Grob 103 variants.) Since the winds were fairly light, I figured it would be a good day to experiment with it.

There were reports that lift was working well over Mt. Lewis. I towed to 3900' AGL (7300' MSL) over the "second ridge" and let off in decent lift, hoping to work my way up to the higher mountains. It was pretty patchy lift, though, and I had to drift down the ridge (westward) to keep sufficient clearance. I found more lift over the valley next to the Devil's Punchbowl than I did over the hills. It was enough to slowly creep up, but nothing very exciting. A couple of other gliders joined me, but none of us were climbing very fast. For the first hour I was up and down by just a few hundred feet.

The lift was puzzling, as it often can be in this area. Sometimes it was too narrow to circle like a thermal, and there was rotor-like turbulence next to it, but the lift was not smooth as one would expect if it was wave. For a while it seemed to be parallel to the second ridge, as if it was a small wave coming off of it, but other times it was perpendicular to it.

After about an hour of hard work, I found a big, wide area of lift that felt more like thermal, and shared it with (as I later learned) a DG-400. That is really one of the fun parts of local soaring: flying near, but not too near, other sailplanes. Watching each other swoop and turn big lazy circles, or tighter turns trying to core a thermal, you feel like you're weightless, and the ground far below is irrelevant. It's amazing how suddenly your companion glider can be a couple hundred feet above or below you, as you each get into and out of areas of lift and sink. Unfortunately I did not bring my camera along this time.

One of the great thrills is finally "ratcheting up" the altitude and finding that you're going up more than going down, and being able to relax and enjoy the flight. Eventually the lift was stronger and more consistent and I reached 9,000' MSL. By that time I had been up for nearly two hours, and I had kind of a time limit to the afternoon, so I called it a day. Not a spectacular day, but ultimately a successful one. I ended up with a total time of 2:08.

Talking with other pilots back on the ground, we all agreed it was a weird day. Some lucky pilots broke through to some good wave lift over the higher mountains and got to 14,000'. Others of us in thermal lift topped out about 9,000'. Some of the lift was hard to categorize, so we figured it was some combination of convergence and moderate wave over the hills, and thermal over the flats. Whatever!!

Working more than flying

2012-05-26T22:23:00.002-07:00

I had not flown since my great wave flight in March... I've been busy with projects at home and various commitments on the weekends. A lot has happened in the last couple of months. Due to some mid-year leadership changes, I've been appointed President of our soaring club. We've been working on transitioning both of our ships to Crystalaire, which will be our new base of operations for the foreseeable future. With our Blanik trainers grounded until the AD gets resolved, we've been working on some changes in rules and procedures to refocus our club operations around Private Pilots and our glass ships instead of around training.

Today we reassembled our Grob 103 Twin Astir at Crystal and did some maintenance on it. Sometimes the wings go on easily, but today we had a lot of trouble with the second wing. We don't assemble it often enough to have a real "groove" to our process. I took a test flight late in the afternoon in it with another pilot. The weather today was weird: windy out of the west, with some rotor clouds and some cumulus, but no wave clouds. There were few other pilots flying, but those that did reported strong lift and strong sink. It was quite turbulent on tow, and I had trouble with one of the flight controls (which I'm not going to detail), so I was not flying my best. I let off earlier than I planned because we flew through some very strong lift a couple of times. But the lift was hard to work and the wind was strong, and we kept drifting downwind out of it. Having started out low, we did not have much altitude to burn getting back to the lift. After just a few tries I had to enter the pattern. And of course THEN we found strong lift! Although the wind was strong and gusty, it was blowing straight down the runway, so the landing was not difficult (thought I gently bounced it).

After we landed we checked with two other club members who had flown, and our stories all matched: found strong lift on tow, got off tow at about 2,000' AGL, then could not work the lift, and landed after 9 to 12 minutes. That's twice I've done that at Crystal. My new motto is "Won't get fooled again!" No one opted to try a second flight - it just wasn't worth it.

This makes two years in a row that Memorial Day at Crystal was too windy to be fun. Last year was even worse! Maybe as the summer progresses we'll get rid of these Pacific storms and get some normal thermal soaring.

Mountain Climbing in a Greenhouse

2012-03-25T21:43:00.001-07:00

We can never quite tell how a day will shape up for soaring. I went to Crystalaire this Saturday not even sure if I would fly, wondering if the weather would turn out like the forecasts, had a long wait for a tow, and ended up having one of my best flights ever!

Winds in front of an approaching Pacific storm were forecast to be from the south. If other conditions are right, this can cause mountain wave lift between the gliderport and the San Gabriel Mountains. The RASPtable forecast for 13:00 at 500 millibars (about 19,000 feet MSL) looked like this. The gliderport is somewhere near the word "Llano". The reddish area would be the strongest lift. But would it really happen?

At the field, lenticular clouds were clearly visible to the east. The senior instructor said the wave was working and had been for several days. The temperature on the ground was much warmer than I expected, and the wind was warm, indicating a foehn effect. I had some tasks to take care of earlier in the day, so I did not get fully ready to fly until about 13:30, by which time there was a line of 5-6 gliders waiting to take off. Then one of the two working towplanes was grounded with an electrical problem, so I didn't actually take off until 14:33. I almost canceled because the southwest wind was 15 knots gusting to 18, which exceeds the PW5's maximum demonstrated crosswind component (a guideline, not a hard limit). But there is a short crosswind runway which aligns very nicely with that wind direction, which would turn a strong crosswind into a great headwind for landing. So up I went.

There was a lot of turbulence on tow, much of which was no doubt wave rotor. I let off tow at 4,100' AGL (7,500' MSL) when we flew into smooth wave lift. I don't remember the exact sequence of climbs and loss of lift (I may update this after I peruse my flight trace), but I easily got up to 13,000 MSL, higher than I had ever been in wave. Most of the time I was heading southwest directly into the wind. The best speed for climbing seemed to be about 48 knots, which is Best L/D speed for the PW5... I expected it to be down around Minimum Sink, so I'll have to think about that. (Comments, anyone?) At times my groundspeed appeared to be nearly zero (though I did not have GS shown on my PDA/GPS... I'll have to add that number to the display) so my airspeed of 48 must have been very close to the wind speed. Look back at the forecast map above: the wind barbs show 45 knots, though that was for 19,000'

Having reached 13,000', my thoughts turned to overflying Mt. Baldy (actually named Mt. San Antonio, about 10,000', and visible as the highest oval in the map above), which has been one of my goals for a while now. That would be challenging, because the wave was 4-5 miles north of the mountains, and I would need extra altitude to fight non-lifting headwinds to get there. The wave lift pretty much paralleled the ridge, so I was able to maintain and even gain as I headed east. By the time I was adjacent to the peak, I was at 16,600'! My previous personal record had been 15,100' over the southern Sierras. Even if I did not make it to Mt. Baldy, this was already a great day!

So I headed toward the peak, but as I mentioned, the winds were strong... my 48kt Best L/D wasn't going to get me there. I had to speed up to 70-75 knots to make any headway, and then of course the glide ratio gets really bad. At times I was seeing 800 to 1000 feet per minute down - not what I needed! By the time I got to the peak - frequently looking over my shoulder at the gliderport getting further away - I was down to 13,000'. SeeYou Mobile was telling me I had plenty of altitude to get back (it's only 14.7 nautical miles), and the look-down angle was good... but I'm really not that comfortable getting far from a landing site. and I have not personally scouted the landout options in this area. And I'm very aware SYM does not know about actual wind conditions, so one always needs to be more conservative than SYM's guidance. If the wind shifted from southwest to west, I would have a big headwind component on the way back. So it did make me nervous. Just as soon as I was over the peak, I turned back to a heading halfway between "direct to Crystal" and "directly back to the wave".

On the way back, I got more of that 1000 fpm sink. By the time I reconnected with the wave, I was down to 9,xxx feet. Back in the wave, I headed west again and by the time I was adjacent to the gliderport I was back to 13,000' again! I had been up for about an hour and a half.

People ask me if it's cold up there. It is and it isn't. I occasionally checked the Outside Air Temperature display, and the lowest I saw at 16,xxx feet, was -10 Celsius, which is +14 Fahrenheit. Yet I was very comfortable in a short-sleeved, lightweight shirt. After about an hour and a half, my feet started to get cold, and there are a few air leaks around the canopy (need to replace some weatherstripping) so there's an occasional draft to the neck. but that's all. The big bubble canopy on the PW5 truly acts as a greenhouse and traps the sunlight, keeping it nice and warm. (Good in the winter, not so good in the summer.) So yes, I went mountain climbing in a greenhouse!

I lost nearly no altitude getting back, and looked directly down on the gliderport from 13,000'. I headed north to lose some altitude, and lost a couple thousand feet or so, but guess what - I contacted the secondary wave (where the senior instructor had reported it hours earlier). Clearly THIS was not the way down. So I headed back south and pulled my spoilers out... and got into some of the worst rotor turbulence I've ever seen, the kind that bounces my head on the canopy and sends radios and stuff flying out of the cabin pockets. I slowed down my airspeed a bit and it was not too bad, and only lasted a couple of minutes. After that I flew with full spoilers, and at times I saw -1250 fpm on the digital display.

As expected, the wind at ground level had not abated, and the tetrahedron showed that the direction had not changed, so I opted to land on the crosswind dirt runway. It's only about 330 feet long before it intersects the dirt approach area of the main runway, and 450 feet to the centerline, but with a strong headwind that should not be a problem. We got lots of practice landing short at Hemet-Ryan! I was quite aware of another glider in the pattern behind me, so I turned off as soon as I could, and was concerned I was in his way as he landed on the main runway, but I was about a hundred feet off the centerline so it was not a problem at all. Total flight time: 2 hours and 2 minutes.

Sorry, no pictures of the beautiful snow on top of Mt. Baldy or the Mountain High ski resort, but I didn't take my camera along this time... and I was kinda busy! I may be able to update this with my flight trace.

Update on Blanik L13 situation

2012-02-27T21:30:00.002-08:00

We are still waiting for the FAA to complete their assessment of a Supplemental Type Certificate that has been submitted to deal with the Blanik L13 airworthiness issue. It's been in process since about May 2011.

The FAA's statement as of early February
The STC applicant's description of the inspection and repair process

The parts kit alone would cost about $8,700.

Seagull Soaring Index

2012-02-19T11:15:00.000-08:00

I have a 2-meter "foamie" radio-controlled glider that I occasionally get to fly, mostly ridge soaring along ocean cliffs. It's relatively heavy, so it takes a pretty strong wind to keep it aloft, unlike the little Zagis and molded foam warbirds that have been developed in recent years.

On some long trips to the dunes at Pismo Beach, CA I invented my "Seagull Soaring Index". I watch the seagulls that are ridge soaring, and mentally count the longest intervals between episodes of flapping. If they can soar for 6 seconds at a time or longer, the wind is strong enough to launch my Highlander. Any less, and I will be trekking down the hill to retrieve it.

Smaller ships would probably fly on a SSI of two or three. I've thought of getting a wing or smaller glider, but since I really don't get to fly R/C all that often (I'd rather fly "full-scale") it's not worth the cost.

What weather-related "rules of thumb" do you use to help decide whether today (or tomorrow) will be a good soaring day?

More Hemet-Ryan shenanigans

2012-02-12T22:24:00.000-08:00

The County of Riverside is determined to force gliders to stop operating at Hemet-Ryan Airport. The FAA ruled that we have the right to fly there, and ruled that the management must negotiate in good faith with us. But the FAA does not oversee the details of the negotiation process, and will only step in if we formally protest again.

First, the CoR wanted us to fit into an FBO model, offering a full range of aviation services (repairs, instruction, rental, etc.), and tried to enforce some "minimum standards" for amount of land and hangar space we must rent.

They eventually said we could rent just an acre of land for tiedowns, or just a hangar for storage. But they are not offering a lease of any specific duration, they are only offering a month-to-month rental. That would make it tough to rent tiedown space to private pilots - who would place their glider there if they knew they could be evicted at any time? And what club would invest in any kind of improvements to the tiedowns, hangar, or land if they knew they could be kicked out and their improvements seized or destroyed at any time?

We could rent tiedown space at the power-plane FBO that exists, but guess what? The tiedowns are of the ring-in-the-ground kind, and sized for GA aircraft, not the staked-down-cable kind. Gliders don't fit into them. We tried. We could use two spaces, but guess what? The CoR insists that the FBO charge us for two spaces AND charge us parking for the glider trailers. So that works out to about $150 per month per glider. That doesn't fit into a club's budget.

So the FBO rented us some space in a dirt area that they lease, and we put down stakes sized for our gliders. Guess what? The CoR orders the FBO to tell us to vacate that space, that tying down in the dirt is "incompatible" with the intended use of that space, and the FBO is forced to go along with it. Guess what? There's a nice twin-engine Beechcraft, some other twin, and two privately-owned military jets also tied down in the dirt. If the CoR does not force them to move, then we will have some pretty solid grounds for a complaint of selective enforcement with the FAA.

I'm sure there's more to the story than this, but this is what I have observed so far.

We're moving our aircraft to other gliderports, because we have no choice, but that does not mean we are done battling the County of Riverside. There are significant principles at stake here, and we are not giving up.

Flight # 300

2012-02-12T22:01:00.000-08:00

Saturday was designated as a day for test launches on our winch after reversing the cable on the spool. The weather was broken clouds, not much potential for thermal lift. No one was expecting to soar, because we wanted to do as many launches as possible. We had some work to do in the morning, and a meeting of members, so we weren't ready to fly until about 1:00. At this point in time I'm one of the few members who are both winch-qualified and current (several are needing biennial Flight Reviews), so I was up first, flying the PW5. Others would go up in the Grob 103 with an instructor.

The wind was about 10 knots with gusts to 15, but it was only slightly off the runway heading (maybe 15 degrees), so I was comfortable flying the PW5, which does not do so well with crosswinds. The field was fortunately clear of the tumbleweeds which have caused us some problems in the past. The initial acceleration was smooth, not a strong G kick like sometimes. I kept a close eye on the line and parachute to avoid overrunning it, and rotated into a nice climb. Before long the airspeed was exceeding the maximum of 65 knots allowed, so I called down a couple of times for less speed. The CG hook automatically released at 1100 feet AGL, and I went off in search of lift. There was just a little over the auto mall parking lot, but not enough to keep me up, so I was back down in about four minutes. I kept a little extra speed to deal with the headwind, and had a good landing.

Our instructor pointed out that I had drifted downwind during the climb due to the fairly strong wind from the left. True enough, I had not paid any attention to direction on the way up. I was focused on keeping a wings-level attitude and on my airspeed. It's really hard to get any sense of horizontal direction during a ground launch, because the climb angle is so steep. You cannot see the ground below unless you consciously look down and back behind you. Look at the backward-looking shots in this video, and you'll get some idea of just how steeply we climb. Looking forward or to the side, all you see is sky.

That was my 300th flight as a glider pilot.

We pushed right back and I went up again. This time I crabbed to the left to counteract the wind, but I'll admit that the amount of crab was a guess, as I still could not see the ground. Apparently it was enough, because the instructor said I was right on track this time. The speed stayed about 65 knots and I had a nice smooth climb to 1400' AGL. That's equal to my other best solo winch launches - I've reached 1500' AGL once with an instructor. This time I was able to work a little bit of lift, but only gained about a hundred feet. The sky was nearly overcast and it was windy, so thinking that the lift might be wave or otherwise wind-generated, I moved around a bit to see if it would extend beyond this one little area. Nope. It really wasn't much, and I came back in for another very short flight. After landing and rolling to a stop, I "ground-flew" the glider for about a minute, keeping the wingtips off the ground by working the headwind with the ailerons.

We conducted four more winch launches, all instructional flights in the Grob 103. One of those launches ceased at 400' AGL when the short rope that connects to the Tost ring came open. The other launches were to 1000' or so. So it was a very successful test of the winch - no further main cable breaks.

The last launch was an aerotow of the Grob. We are again relocating our aircraft to other gliderports while we continue to engage with the Hemet-Ryan management. We will be placing the Grob at Lake Elsinore for a few months, so we asked an Elsinore towplane to come over and tow it there. We disassembled the PW5 and it is being trailered to Crystalaire.

Mobile format

2012-02-06T20:37:00.000-08:00

I've just turned on the mobile option for this blog. It's fully automatic - you don't need to go to a different URL. This should make it far faster and easier to read and navigate from your iPhone-type device, and I imagine from Android devices too. It does not seem to make any difference on my Blackberry device. Please let me know if you encounter any problems with this additional layout.

Motion-induced blindness

2012-01-19T21:33:00.000-08:00

A friend shared this link and I think it's worth sharing here as well. We're taught as student pilots that when we're scanning for traffic, we need to look at different sections of the sky for short periods and not fixate. The reason has more to do with our optic system architecture than with our conscious ability to recognize objects. The brain does many things for us automatically at levels below our awareness, and it does not do all of them well! Try this on-line experiment. If you look at the yellow dots you can see that the demo is honest - the dots are there the whole time. If you fixate on the central dot the yellow dots will disappear. This is not the classic optic nerve blind spot demo - this is more about the neural networks that perform pattern recognition. If you shift your gaze slightly, the dots will reappear. So to compensate for this effect in real life - to spot air traffic - it's essential to shift your gaze frequently.

Review of 2011

2012-01-16T19:25:00.000-08:00

2011 was quite an interesting year. It started off badly, but I had some terrific flights and gave some great passenger rides. It ended with our club returning to Hemet-Ryan airport on a limited basis.

I had a total of 24 flights, four less than in 2010, but 18 hours and 12 minutes, which is more time.

Six flights with instructors
Two flights with other private glider pilots
Six passenger flights
Ten solo flights
No cross-country flights
Six winch launches - the most I've had in any year so far
16 flights in the Grob 103
8 flights in the PW5
Two flights over two hours each
Four flights between one and two hours each

I only flew at Crystalaire and Hemet-Ryan this year. Our club did not take any field trips.

16:44 at Crystal
1:28 at Hemet

I flew at least once every month except August, and that was because my family took a 3-week vacation.

Early in the year I had to put my plans to get my Commercial and Instructor ratings on hold. It became apparent that I needed a lot more practice in the Grob 103 if I was to have the accuracy I needed to take the practical tests, and due to a variety of family needs I was not able to accomplish that before my written tests expired. With our club training program on hold due to the Hemet and Blanik situations, I would not have much opportunity to instruct anyway, so the cost of restarting the process did not seem worthwhile. Now that we are planning to fly regularly at Hemet, I may resume my training and testing in 2012.

At Crystalaire, I had some really interesting flights. The north-facing mountain terrain makes it possible to soar even when the weather is doing some wacky things. I found mountain wave lift several times and learned to recognize and work it. I explored what I called "mountain wake" lift and wrote a lengthy article about it, which got some attention among the pilots at Crystal. I didn't do the kind of really high mountain wave flights that some others have done, but I did get up to 12.2 and 12.6 thousand feet a couple of times - pretty exciting. I'm looking forward to moving our club ships back to Hemet because it is closer to home (less driving), and in some ways the thermal lift is more consistent, but I'm going to miss the challenge of the mountains - I learned a lot there! And I never did get to the top of Mt. Baldy…

In the spring and summer I took my cousins and some friends for flights. We found thermal and wave lift, gaggled with other gliders, and had a great time.

The club continued to face challenges in 2011:

The Blanik grounding situation continues to be unresolved, putting a damper on our student training program.
One of our two Blaniks was damaged in a storm at Lake Elsinore, and was totaled by the insurance company.
Although the FAA ruled in our favor in the Hemet-Ryan situation, the process of establishing operating rules and negotiating a reasonable fee structure with the County of Riverside has been painful. Operating there is laborious and inconvenient until we get tiedowns, storage, and facilities on the north side of the airport near runway 4-22.

The Winch is Back

2011-12-12T09:11:00.000-08:00

After several successful weekends of aerotowing at Hemet-Ryan Airport, we decided it was time to start some winch launching. The tow pilot we've been engaging was not available this weekend, and it was probably the last weekend before everyone gets really busy with the holidays. Some of our members had late afternoon commitments, so we knew it would be a short day, but that's OK - we really just wanted to run through our procedures and see how things worked out. The weather was forecast to be mostly clear, cool with light winds.

We knew that there was possibly a problem with our cable, because we'd had several breaks last time we used the winch. Although the Spectra cable is very strong, it can get worn and damaged. We can see some worn spots in the cable, and we have a couple of theories about what caused it:

One time a fairly large loop of cable developed along one side of the spool, i.e. the cable had a bit of slack when the spool went around. The cable that was then laid down alongside that loop could have rubbed against it and worn it down in the area of that loop. The loop was temporary, and removed itself the next time the cable was pulled out, and as far as I know it has not happened again.
The cable was worn by dragging over a peak in the middle of the runway where we operated for a few weeks. Usually a cable does not get a lot of wear, because it's pulled out slowly, and when it's pulled in quickly for launching, it's not on the ground very long - the rising glider lifts it up. But this particular runway has a noticeable hump in the middle. For the first few seconds of the pull, one section of the cable is subjected to quite a bit of friction. On a flat runway, the ground friction would be fairly evenly distributed along the length of the cable. With a hump, it's like dragging the cable over a corner.

We'll probably never know exactly what caused the wear, but we are expecting more breaks until all the weak areas are spliced. We may reverse the cable on the spool, if the worn area is toward one end. If the runway is not too long, the worn section may remain on the spool.

One of the nice things about the FAA's ruling in our complaint against the County is that it explicitly provides for winch operations. As long as we are following standard radio procedures and the operating manual that we and the County developed, winch launching from the glider runway (4/22) can coexist with power traffic. We can even announce a two-minute pause in power traffic if necessary.

But before we could safely launch, we needed to work on the field. The County has allowed a lot of weeds, mostly tumbleweeds, to grow on the north side of the airport. Many of them are close enough to the runway to be a hazard - last weekend one pilot had a wingtip go through a tw as he was slowing down after landing - it was enough to divert him off the runway a bit, but fortunately he was not going very fast and got it back under control. One of our club members provided a "drag", essentially a length of heavy railroad rail on chains, pulled behind his vehicle. This did a great job of cutting off the tumbleweeds (which are designed to break off at ground level), and did a partial job of clearing them out of the way. I raked many of them out of the way, and we then had enough clear areas for takeoff and landing. If we get a good west wind, it might clear them all completely out of the way. But if we get a north or south wind, we'll need to rake them out of the way again. The County needs to take care of this!

Eventually we were all set up and one of our instructors took the Grob up for the first winch launch, taking off on runway 22 to the west, and landing on 4 to the east. He got up to about 1,000' AGL before the line back-released. There was essentially no wind, so that was a pretty good altitude. A headwind helps the glider climb faster, getting to a higher altitude before topping out over the winch.

He and I went up next, me flying as PIC from the back seat. One disadvantage to the back seat is that you can't see the rope at all - not that you can very well from the front either. The launch and climb were normal, if maybe a bit slower than we might like. We were up at about 800' AGL when I sensed that we lost the rope. He said it hadn't back-released, so we concluded it was a rope break. But we were in lift! We climbed 200' right away without doing anything. In the slippery Grob, 800' is a decent pattern entry altitude, and we were just over the end of the runway, so we actually had a about 300' or more of altitude to use to explore just a little. There was a bit of lift in the area, just enough to take us up to 1,100' AGL and keep us aloft for a few minutes. The thermal was hard to center - I got lift on one side of the circle and zero sink on the other side.

Soon we came back to land on 4. Other than slightly overshooting my final turn, my landing and rollout were great. Since we had the whole length of the runway, I did a smooth "wheel" landing, closed up the spoilers, and rolled all the way back to the starting point.

Unfortunately, that was the last flight of the day. Finding and untangling the cable, and repairing the break, would consume the rest of the time we had available (remember some guys needed to make it a short day). For the next winch launch day, we plan to reverse the line on the spool.

Winds of Change at Hemet-Ryan

2011-12-03T19:51:00.001-08:00

The gliders have returned to Hemet! I've been too busy to blog lately, so I'll catch up now. Orange County Soaring and Cypress Soaring have begun joint operations. This was our third week of aerotowing, and my second week of flying. A couple weeks ago there was not much lift, and I only got a 23-minute flight in some convergence.

This week the weather was... interesting. The forecasts disagreed as to whether there would be thermal lift and how high it would go. We're experiencing a "cold Santa Ana" condition, in which high pressure in the deserts causes high winds in the basins and valleys. Such winds usually bypass the Hemet valley, but if they do hit it they can tear apart all the thermals, and usually don't cause much usable wave. (At least that's how it seemed to me... two years ago at Hemet I had no real wave experience, so maybe I just didn't know how to recognize and exploit it.) As the air comes through the Cajon pass it is compressed and warms up, but it was obvious that it was not dry as it often is. As I was driving to the airport, I could see the air downwind from the pass condensing into turbulent clouds, which got bigger and bigger as they went south. Most of the clouds hugged the Mt. San Jacinto area, though, and the Hemet valley was mostly clear. The clouds that did appear in the valley looked like rotor, so maybe the wave would work?

Some of the Cypress guys got to flying earlier than we did, and got to over 10,000 feet over the lake! They seemed to think it was thermal lift.

I took off in the PW5 about 1:00 and found some workable lift right away. It was turbulent but broad, big enough to circle in, but not terribly strong. The highest lift I saw on the ship's digital display was 3.2 knots, but the vario was not working right and I think it was quite a bit stronger. My clip-on electronic vario was often going crazy, so I think the lift may have been in the 6-8 knot range at times. But it didn't go very high: my max altitude was 5200' MSL.

T and M in the club's Grob 103 and I thermalled together for a while, and I took a few pictures. The Cypress PW6 also thermalled with me, but they were higher and I couldn't get any pictures.

The lift was never smooth, so I never encountered wave action. It seemed to be all thermal, which was surprising with the strong wind. But the temperature differential was substantial, so I guess it was strong enough to punch up through the wind. At one point I was about 3,000 to 3,500 MSL, and the outside air temp was 18 degrees lower than the AWOS was reporting at 1,500 MSL. I came back after an hour so G could have the glider. The lift was still working - I just sped up to create extra drag.

Historical Trends in Sailplane Activity at Hemet-Ryan Airport

2011-11-27T23:37:00.001-08:00

In support of our negotiations with the County of Riverside regarding soaring at Hemet-Ryan Airport, I have conducted a study of the number of sailplanes based there from 1996 through 2009. The source of data for the study was historical images from Google Earth: I counted the gliders, hangars, and trailers in each image and did some analysis and graphs. The study is available here.

Dual Flight over Early Snow

2011-11-06T09:22:00.000-08:00

Friday brought a fast-moving cold storm to Southern California. Saturday looked to be clear skies and cool aloft with possible thermals to 9 or 10,000 feet, but also possibly windy to 15 knots, with the wind maybe too westerly to make good wave. As I was driving to the airport another pilot called and we talked about sharing a flight, so I prepped our Grob 103. It's the better ship to be in if the winds get strong, but its oxygen tank is out for repair, so I knew we couldn't go too high if the wave was working. We needed to do several items of maintenance, but that gave us some time to get early flight reports from a couple of other pilots. It sounded like a high tow over the mountains might be the only way to fly today, so I was glad to be splitting the tow fee.

There were lenticular clouds to the north, but way too far away to be useful... that's common at Crystal.

The wind was from the west but not very strong, 5 knots most of the time. There was obviously a gentle south wind coming over the mountains, pushing clouds over the rim into the desert as you can see in the picture. And we were told there was an east wind aloft, so ridge lift on the east side of Mt. Lewis was a possibility. And with the clear air, thermals might pop too. So... the air was in a lot of motion today - what would we find?

I took the rear seat, and G as PIC took the front. He said he had not had much experience with wave or ridge soaring, so he thought maybe I'd do much of the flying and he'd to the takeoff and landing. Fine with me. I took myPDA/GPS device hoping to get a trace of our flight. As we were pushing out to the runway, a cigar-shaped lenticular cloud formed right between us and the mountain, so smooth wave was happening. But by the time we took off, it was gone.

Another pilot reported that the rumored ridge lift on Mt. Lewis was not working, and the spillover clouds were really getting thick, so we let off at 8500' kind of in front of the mountain and went looking for ridge lift in various places. G didn't find anything so after a while he turned it over to me. I had seen some raggedy little clouds in a rough SW-NE line that I thought might be weak rotor clouds, but there was no real lift next to them.

So on the theory that the west wind might be making ridge lift or weak wave, I tried a north-south line over the low end of the Second Ridge. I did find some narrow lift and was able to work up in it through several back-and-forth passes. I tried to keep my lines tight in case it was a narrow band, and that seemed to work. The picture (click to expand) shows a trace of that portion of the flight. It was not smooth enough to be wave, and there was no obvious north-south ridge to be making orographic lift, so what was it? I thought maybe the nose of the Second Ridge was creating what they call "bow wave", but the wind wasn't really strong enough for that. It didn't last long, but I gained 1,000', so we had time to fly around.

Didn't find much after that, and eventually got low enough over the ridges that I decided to head toward a weak little lenticular could that was perched over the airport. I found neither good lift nor good sink on the way, and by the time we got there the lennie had disappeared. I gave the plane back to G and he went in search of thermal lift on the way back to the landing pattern. There may have been a little, but it was pretty weak and not working.

There were a few other odd little lennies to the west, but too far for us to reach. We came in for a landing after 51 minutes. The surface wind was still from the west and only about 5 knots, so it had never really picked up.

We had seen a glider above us and later below us when we were working the one area of mysterious lift. Back on the ground, instructor D asked, if that was us he saw, and commented that the shear line had been good but had disappeared as we worked it. Then the light went on! The wind from the south over the mountain, and the wind from the west, were colliding and going up. It wasn't ridge, or wave, or "bow wave", or thermal - it was convergence! I'm gonna need a checklist just for all the different kinds of lift we find in the chaotic environment over the mountains!

Hemet-Ryan Master Plan Includes Soaring - NOT!

2011-10-26T23:14:00.000-07:00

The County of Riverside published their new Master Plan, along with an "Initial Study" that addresses environmental and other issues. The Plan is full of unsubstantiated assumptions, unsupported conclusions, and undisclosed motivations. It assumes soaring will come back but will fail... it states that the Cal Fire operation will move and obliterate the soaring space but admits this will not help Cal Fire... it states this is necessary to provide "opportunities for new aviation uses on the south side" but doesn't say what those might be, and it admits that growth at HMT will be minimal.

In other words, it's a sham. FAA forced them to update their plan, and they did so with no input from soaring. Although they state that HMT is primarily a recreational airport, they plan to shut out a segment of aviation that accounts for a large fraction of the recreational operations. FAA ruled their actions illegal... but they persist in being uncooperative.

Here are links to the Plan and the Study.

If you'd like to write to the County about this issue, you can find the address and a sample letter on the Save Soaring at Hemet Today site.

It's Complicated

2011-10-05T23:23:00.000-07:00

The wind was from the south and there was enough moisture in the air that cumulus was a possibility, with cloudbase at 10,000 to maybe 13,000 feet, but little chance of overdevelopment into thunderstorms. One of the very experienced instructors came back from an early flight, so we asked him what it was like up there. He said, "Confusing, but there's lift everywhere." Now, if THIS guy thinks it's confusing, you know it'll be a challenge for low-time pilots like me.

The soaring textbooks show simple, idealized diagrams of thermals, ridge (orographic) lift, and wave lift. In the real world, It's Complicated. Those types of airflows intersect, interact, and interfere with each other. Figuring out exactly what's going on can be, as he said, Confusing. Why worry about what kind of lift it is, why not just fly in it? Well, in thermal, you typically circle. In ridge, you go back and forth following the contour of the ridge, in the "sweet spot" above and maybe a little downwind from it. In wave, you go back and forth in a (possibly long) vertical zone, or sometimes fly directly into the wind. So... if you guess wrong about the type of lift you're in, you're likely to fly in the wrong direction, and right out of the lift.

From the ground, I saw the mountain peaks (9,000 and 10,000 feet tall) creating an expanding trail of cumulus clouds. But the clouds didn't start above the peaks, they started downwind of the peaks, and at about the same level. So they did not act like classic orographic CU. This picture kind of shows it but not too clearly - the clouds spawned from the left and grew larger to the right, out of the frame:

Here's a sketch of how it would have looked from the side:

And from above:

Once in the air, I found lift under each of these "wakes" of clouds. What kind of lift? It was wide enough to circle in, like thermal, and strong: I gained 5,000' in no time. But it was windy, which usually tears apart thermals. It was downwind of the peaks, like wave... but it was not smooth, and the clouds were puffy like CU, not smooth lenticulars. And it was downwind of the peaks, not starting over it as ridge lift would be. So... it was something else. I came to think of it as "wake" lift, triggered by the peaks like wave, going down and then up like wave, but turbulent enough to make puffy CU instead of smooth lennies. And in front of the leading point of each "wake", there were clouds that were NOT rising and puffy, but rather ragged and rotating: rotor cloud as you would see below a wave:

Imagine three rocks in a stream. They make V-shaped wakes which go up and then down and then up, and get turbulent downstream. And if the rocks are close enough, the wakes start interacting. Remember "constructive interference" from physics? The wakes can constructively interfere and the lift can add up to be stronger and higher than the wakes. And that is just what I found. Where the V-shaped cloud streets started to come together, I saw a small, smooth lennie! Right in the middle of this picture, you can see the smooth, rounded, fuzzy leading edge of it. The CU in the lower left is in one of the wakes, and there were other CU's directly behind me.

The lennies were wedged between the wakes as shown in the next sketch. The wakes eventually merged into a solid mass of CU.

I got up to cloudbase under a wake, then left the wake and approached the leading edge of the lennie, hoping to find smooth wave lift, and I did. (That's the first time I have actually been close enough to approach a wave cloud and find the lift. Up to now, my experience with wave lift has been in clear air.) The wave lift was pretty narrow, and I could not move very far without getting out of it, but it did take me up above the CU cloudbase, which is pretty rare. In this next pic, you can see the edge of the lennie again, and look downward at the base of the CU:

I went as high as possible under the leading point of a wake, and then tried to hop to the peak that was triggering it, but that was directly upwind. The cloudbase was about 2,500 feet higher than the peak, but since I had to fly upwind that was barely enough to get to the peak with a safe margin of altitude. I was able to overfly Mt. Baden-Powell, but not Mt. Baldy.

Confusing and complicated - but enlightening! I did not go far, I went all around the airport trying to visualize what the air was doing, trying out and verifying theories. Sure enough, there was lift everywhere, and the corresponding sink was not very strong. I easily stayed up for two and a half hours. Unfortunately my flight recorder malfunctioned so I don't have a flight trace, but I did get some pretty good pictures of these interesting situations.

Wishing to soar

2011-09-10T21:37:00.001-07:00

Regular readers may have noticed that I did not post anything in August. That's because I was traveling, mostly on a family "road trip" vacation to the midwest. Using the SSA's list of soaring sites, I looked for commercial ops along our route so I could get in some soaring at a remote site. I mostly found clubs, and as you may know it's not very practical for a visiting private pilot to fly with a club, for reasons of logistics and insurance.

The only viable option I could find was Durango Soaring Club in Colorado. It's a club, not a commercial op, and their web site indicated that their focus is on selling rides and some instruction. It did not look like they rent gliders, and I've heard that the checkout at Durango is pretty extensive because of the challenging terrain. The only option looked to be to pay for a tourist ride and maybe get to do some of the flying, but that seemed expensive and unsatisfying. My schedule was uncertain enough (and the purpose of the trip was to do things with my family), so I didn't really look into it seriously.

Click the pic for a larger image.

While in Durango, our main purpose (well, mine anyway) was to ride the Durango and Silverton Narrow-Gauge Railway. This is a spectacular ride in 1880's rail cars, with 1930's coal-burning steam engines, though the beautiful and rugged Animas Gorge through the Rocky Mountains.

Well, guess what: the tracks go right by Durango Soaring Club. And just as we steamed by, a Blanik came in to land on their beautiful grass strip, and we happened to be on the right side of the train. So here are a couple of my best shots.

Click the pic for a larger image.

Wish the fields I fly from had grass like this!

And that's as close as I came to soaring in August.

Thermal flight - shoulda, coulda, woulda

2011-09-10T21:13:00.000-07:00

Labor Day weekend had great weather for thermal soaring at Crystal. It got up to about 97F.The forecast was for thermals to 15K-18K, and there was a little moisture in the air which meant there was a possibility of cumulus clouds at about 14K. After dealing with some maintenance issues, I took off in the PW5 about 1:30. We really climbed fast on tow, and by the time we got to the First Ridge we were already at 2500 AGL and flying through thermals. I thought I'd be smart, save a little on the tow, and let off in a good thermal instead of towing up into the mountains. I let off with the vario nearly pegged, but when I tried to get into it I could find no lift. No sink, but no lift either. I worked little bits of lift near the golf course and the wash (not known to be great sources) and could not seem to climb, and could not get away from the airport. At one point I got down to about 1500 AGL and was thinking about landing to take another, higher tow, but I stuck it out and finally found a decent thermal. There was a significant wind from the west, and I had to hunt upwind to stay in it. Finally it really started to cook, and I got up to about 9,000 MSL (5,600 AGL). That enabled me to head into the mountains and work the Second Ridge.

In the mountains I found thermal lift and some lift that seemed to be ridge. At least one glider was visible thousands of feet above me, working up near the base of one of the few CU's within striking distance. Eventually I got up to about 11,000 MSL and headed deeper into the mountains. I've had a goal of reaching the top of Mt. Baldy, which several of our club pilots have already done (and some did that day). But I had wasted a *lot* of time scratching in that first thermal, and I knew that G was waiting for his turn in the glider after me. So I had to turn back a few miles short of Baldy. As I headed back west I continued to go up, and reached 12,000 MSL quite easily. I could have gone up to probably 14K if I had had more time, but I stopped at 12K and headed back.

Since I was now over the desert at over 11,000 feet, I headed northeast and overflew a private airport known as Gray Butte, and still got back to Crystal with thousands of feet to lose. After pulling spoilers to lose altitude more quickly, I landed after a total of an hour and 24 minutes. My altitude gain was 6,100 feet. I recorded the flight on my GPS/PDA but have not had time this week to upload and analyze it.

I shoulda held on to the tow instead of letting off early and wasting at least a half hour hunting the first good thermal. Then I woulda had more time at high altitude and coulda reached Mt. Baldy. So that goal is still in the future...

Nice Thermal Passenger Flight at Crystal

2011-07-21T17:46:00.000-07:00

Some months ago I met a colleague M at work who is an instrument-rated power pilot but had never been in a glider. We finally got our schedules in sync and went out to Crystalaire this Sunday. We talked about flying there from Fullerton airport in his club's Cessna to maybe save some time. (Conversely, I've never been in a Cessna.) But there was a good possibility of morning overcast in the LA basin, so we decided to drive up instead. The forecast high was about 95-99F with only 5 knots of wind from the southwest, so it looked like a good day for thermals. I printed out both the thermal forecast and the wave forecast so I could go over them with him on the drive.

We talked about the contrast between M's flying experience and mine:
- He typically flies in congested airspace, and usually files IFR even in VFR conditions.
- I typically fly in uncontrolled airspace, and have only talked to ATC during a couple of flights.

One of his main concerns is staying clear of other traffic. Usually all we see are other gliders and the towplanes. Occasionally a military transport or helicopter passes through the Crystal area, but they're pretty rare. When we do see other gliders in the air, we often circle with them in a thermal in very close proximity, so this was going to be a quite different experience for him.

After prepping the glider and having some lunch, we had quite a delay waiting for a tow. Seems the second tow pilot scheduled for the day was sick, so things were taking a while with just one. It was plenty hot on the ground, probably about 99 or 100F; the OAT gauge in the Grob 103 read quite a bit higher and I didn't believe it. We took off about 1:30, took a 3500' tow (up to 6900' MSL) and let off in strong lift. Other pilots had reported "zero sink everywhere, and narrow thermals". That's what I found over the Second Ridge - bits of lift that would take us up 100' or so at a time, but nothing great. And it was not acting like the wave lift from my last flight. (The wind was not strong at all, and no rotor turbulence.)

I tried all the way down the slope of the Second Ridge and found little, so we headed back over the desert. I always hate to give up on the mountains, because although there's often good lift over the flatlands, it's never been tall enough to let me get back up on the hills. On the way back I let M take the stick and rudder for a few minutes to get a feel for these long wings.

Not far from the airport, we found one of the "house thermals" and climbed quite well. It took some work to stay in it, but we quickly gained over a thousand feet. After tanking up a bit, we flew around looking at the area, tried a couple of stalls, and worked some other minor thermals.

We went back and found that house thermal again. It got stronger and easier to exploit the higher we went. M spotted another glider off in the distance, and it soon came over to join us, at least a thousand feet below. It was a high-performance DG-1000, and soon outclimbed us: better ship, better pilot. Once M saw how this whole "gaggling" process worked, he was fascinated and really enjoyed the experience. Although the other ship was just a few hundred feet away from us at times, his climb was slow relative to our position. We kept our positions pretty well on opposite sides of the circle, so we really never approached each other. It's really quite fun to thermal together - a slow dance in the sky - as long as there are not too many ships to keep an eye on. M had a great time. A third glider (a lower-performance trainer) came in below us, at least a thousand feet down, and never got up near our altitude.

We got up close to 8,000 MSL, and the DG headed for the hills, so we did too. I found a little bit of lift over the lower part of the hills, and we flew for a while about a thousand feet higher than we had released in that same area. So that marks the first time I have been able to get back from the desert to the mountains. I did not find anything to take us higher than 8,000', but I think the DG pilot did.

After about an hour and a half of flight, we decided to head back. M was nearly out of water, and that's a long time to sit in a glider the first time. We came back in for a total flight time of 1:40. M was amazed at the distance the glider floated in ground effect after flaring - another difference due to those long wings.

All in all, a fun day introducing another pilot to soaring.

Mountain wave passenger flight

2011-06-27T21:06:00.000-07:00

My friend Jim has been wanting to go for a glider flight for a long time, and we finally decided the only way we'd work it into our schedules was to take a day off work and just go. He'd been in a small power plane before, so we figured he'd do fine in a glider. Today the forecast for Crystalaire was for 99F, good thermal lift, winds out of the west-southwest at 10 to 15 knots.

We took off about 1:00 in light south-southwest winds and let off in good lift over the Second Ridge. We very easily gained 2,000 feet, and then another 1,000. Couldn't quite break the 10,000' mark, but it was working well. I kept the banking to about 35 degrees, and Jim handled it just fine. I looked around for more lift, and all I found was light sink and some turbulence upwind of the ridge. It was a little puzzling, because the south side of the ridge wasn't working like ridge lift based on where I thought the wind was coming from. Not finding a second thermal, we dropped off the hills and out to the desert... and found no lift there either. We landed after 38 minutes. I knew the lift must be better than that, because other gliders had been up for an hour or more. Jim was game, so we decided to give it another try.

We let off again in good lift, a little higher this time. I heard two other gliders on the radio trying to make visual contact, and one said he was at "13,400 in wave over the Punchbowl". Hmm... I'm over the Punchbowl too, but about 4 to 5 thousand feet lower. Huh? Wave? Duh! Of course! Wave! That wasn't thermal lift last time, and it wasn't random turbulence south of the ridge, it was rotor! The wind was blowing over the tops of the mountains, bouncing off the floor of the valley south of Second Ridge, and going up. So... I flew parallel to the ridge and immediately contacted smooth wave lift at about 5 knots. Then 6 knots. Occasionally 8 knots. Eventually 10 knots! In no time we were over 11,000 feet. I found where the rotor started south of the wave, and found the apparent east and west limits of the lift. We got as high as 12,200 feet, though much of the time we were down around 10,500. This is more like it!

This was really only my second time flying in serious wave lift, so I spent some time exploring the limits of it and just enjoying the view and giving my friend a nice smooth scenic ride - that wave lift is amazingly smooth! After about an hour and a half we decided to head back out over the desert and shoot for a two-hour total total time. I knew that losing 6,000 feet would take a while. Heading north, I found sequential patches of moderate turbulence and smooth lift. So I think I traversed secondary and tertiary waves. As we were wrapping up our flight, I heard one of those two other gliders going in for a landing, but the other checked in at 16,000'. We ended up just two minutes short of two hours on that second flight.

So my lesson for today: a south or southwest wind across the San Gabriel mountains can set up wave where I have been looking for thermal and ridge lift. What's surprising to me is how short the wavelength is. From the top of the ridge where I think the wind is getting deflected upward, to the upward flow of the primary wave seemed to be about just 3.5 miles. All the soaring educational materials I've seen about wave talk about the wind bouncing off a stable air layer down low, not off the ground, so I have not been thinking about the wave setting up right in the mountains, but that's what it seems to be doing. And the wind was not all that strong: 10 knots on the ground, not sure how strong at altitude. So I need to think about wave forming in a wider variety of conditions than the books talk about.

A great day!

Thermal and ridge lift today at Crystalaire

2011-05-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

Our club planned an outing for the long weekend, but it did not go as planned due to the weather. The NWS issued wind warnings for the Antelope Valley, and many of our club members decided not to go. I've seen that sometimes the Crystalaire area is not as windy as the surrounding area, and we already had reservations at a place nearby, and we had nothing else planned for the weekend, so my wife and I went anyway. Well, I should have listened to the NWS this time! Saturday started out not too bad, just light winds at ground level, but upstairs it was a different story. Some very experienced glider pilots and tow pilots came back saying it was the worst turbulence they'd ever seen, and by about noon everyone was calling it a day. Sunday was forecast to be cool, cloudy, and windy, so we packed up and went home. These things happen sometimes with weather-related sports.

Monday was looking much better, so I headed back out. It was warm, clear, light wind forecast. The morning inversion was forecast to dissipate, with thermals possible up to 8500' or so. (I use NOAA's soundings web site at http://www-frd.fsl.noaa.gov/mab/soundings. Check it out! If a formal sounding is not available for your favorite soaring site, it will interpolate one from the closest available ones.) Forecast high was for 76F, but NWS often underestimates desert high temps, and I know it got up to about 81F in the afternoon.

Some other folks wanted to do dual flights in the Grob, so I flew the PW5, taking off a little before 2:00. I let off in lift at 7700' MSL, and found a weak thermal right away, but it only took me to 8200. Eventually I found some that got me up to 9200, and I went farther east than I have before, just a couple of miles. I'm still kind of conservative at this site - I like to stay fairly close to home until I get comfortable with how much altitude I need to get back from various locations. (I did not take my flight computer today.) I could see other gliders at least a couple thousand feet higher, but I could not seem to beat 9200'.

One problem is that the variometer on this glider is intermittently unreliable. That may sound redundant, but it's true. Some days it works fine, other days it's all over the place. Last time I flew, it was fine, and we concluded that maybe there was water or debris in the static lines that had resolved itself. Well, the gremlins were back today! I intentionally took along my clip-on electronic vario, but there are two problems with it: 1) it's not very loud, and 2) it only tells me about lift, not sink. Flying in the mountains, I'd like to keep an eye on the sink as well. So... although it may sound like an excuse (especially to the seat-of-the-pants gurus), partial vario info makes me not want to go very far into the mountains. I think we need to tear the whole static system apart and clean it out.

Some of the lift was too widespread to be thermal, so I began to think it was ridge lift. There was a bit of a northwest wind - I could tell from my drift. I did not think it was strong enough to really generate much ridge lift, but apparently it was. I need to rethink my image of ridge lift: instead of a classic ridge perpendicular to the wind, this terrain was a bunch of short ridges, some of which were oriented against the wind. So each little spur was generating its own lift in a small area. Something to remember and try to exploit in the future.

I developed a bit of a headache after an hour or so. I turned on the oxygen for a while although I was only at about 8500', thinking it might help... it didn't. So I didn't push it, I came back to some of the closer ridges and worked some well-known thermal generators such as the Chimney. I was able to work a thermal up to 9700'. After about an hour and a half I decided to go out over the desert and try a few things.

I realized some time ago that my flying style is pretty "tame": wings-level most of the time, fairly gentle turns, never getting much above best L/D speed except to get out of sink. I've wanted to loosen up and have a little more fun in the air, but often I do not have enough excess altitude to experiment very much. Today I did, so I played around with some dives and climbs and steep climbing turns. Not quite what you would call wingovers, but definitely more extreme than I usually do. (Yes, instructors, I did clearing turns first.)

I found a few thermals over the desert, and could have stayed up longer, but I came in at just under two hours.

The lift was definitely working today - other club members went to the top of Mt. Baldy - I just didn't quite connect with the best stuff. That's on my to-do list for a day when the instruments are working better, and after I've studied the charts a bit more so I know the distances and escape routes.