I Learned about Gliding from THAT
taken from "Flight Comment", Canada
The following story relates to one of the most integral aspects of glider operations.
While you can regulate the circuit procedures, standardize, or train Mother Nature and her many mood swings.
Our day began as a beautifully sunny Saturday morning, with the cool autumn air just crisp enough to invigorate the senses. It was one the those rare mornings that postcards and dreams are made of - with blue skies up above, and just enough clouds on the distant horizon to capture the morning rays in all their splendor. The wind was blowing a good 15 kts, but miraculously straight down the runway. Flight Service had provided us with a forecast that validated the smile on our faces - we were to see more of the same sunny skies until at least early afternoon, at which time some cloud development was to occur. After the morning briefing we got off to an early start, eager to take advantage of the great conditions.
The two gliders were pushed out from the hangar along the taxi way, holding short of the midpoint for runway 32. It was SOP to launch them from the hardtop, and have them land on the grass strip just to the West of the field. The launch point was then set up along the grass strip, far enough away from the paved active runway to allow for a tow plane landing strip, and two glider landing strips.
On this picturesque morning, I was the Launch Control Officer (LCO), and it was my job to stay on top of the operation, and approve each launch when there were no conflicts. Everything went according to SOP, and by the time the second glider had taken off, the first was turning final for the grass strip. With both aircraft out of the nest, the bulk of the team (including myself as LCO) climbed into the vans and drove over to the launch point on the grass strip, where the first glider had landed. By the time our vans had reached the launch point, the tow plane was on short final, and the glider had completed its checks. As LCO, I rushed out of the van, and over to the glider to observe the hookup and approve the launch. The instructor on board the glider advised me that the clouds that had been on the horizon to the north were now blowing towards us. Not to worry, I thought, as they were still quite a ways off, and Flight Service had said that the cloud was not to arrive until early afternoon. Certainly a few good hours of flying remained. By now the glider was hooked up and ready to go, and as there was no traffic in the area, I approved the launch without any hesitation.
As the second glider turned onto final approach, I recognized for the first time that the winds aloft appeared to be considerably stronger than the 15 kts we were experiencing on the ground. This was the first circuit I was able to closely monitor, having just arrived at the launch point a few short minutes ago. Realizing that winds aloft were a significant force, I turned to watch the movement of the distant layer of cloud - which was no longer very distant, and in fact was inbound at considerable speed. By the time the glider had released, the first few patches of cloud were coming over top of us, with a thicker blanket to follow, the ceiling of which was perhaps 500 ft AGL. The instructor aboard the aircraft recognized the situation, applied full spoiler, and entered a downwind leg at 2000 ft immediately after release to get back before the cloud layer smothered the airport. By late downwind, visual contact with the glider had been lost, with cloud now completely blanketing the sky. The glider then reappeared on base leg, landing safely on the grass strip without incident.
The entire staff was surprised by the speed at which the cloud layer came upon us, especially the instructor pilot who had been monitoring it. As LCO, I had not been watching the dynamics of the weather, and had approved the last launch based only on the quick spot check of the weather I had just prior to the launch. What I had not observed was the movement of the layer. Besides, only the weathermen on TV are ever wrong - how could a Flight Service Station give me a bum steer on the conditions?
It seems Mother Nature still has a few aces up her sleeves yet. Well, I sure learned about flying from that!
anonymous