Three Grounders

Flying the past couple of days has been like watching the slumping Red Sox...lots of grounders. In fact it's been a one-two-three inning.

Yesterday I flew down to Logan to help with the SSA Region 9 North Soaring Contest, sponsored by my club. About 30 gliders are competing. The only airplane available was the Six, which would cost more, but there were two deciding factors to taking it. First, I could take a bicycle, which would come in handy. Second, I'm a pilot! I should fly places!

Launching 30 gliders (there was one relight) is a lot of work. The gliders were arranged on the runway (which was NOTAMed closed) in launch order. The three tow planes landed on the grass next to the runway, and two rope runners grab the rope with boat hooks and run in opposite directions, bringing the tow ring to the glider. The ring is attached and the tow plane goes. In the meantime, the next tow plane has landed, and the runners meet it and bring the ring to the next glider in line. It's the closest to the deck of an aircraft carrier I'll ever be.

Strike One! One of the tow planes hit a soft spot and bottomed out; its prop hit the pavement. The result: airplane grounded until its crankshaft is inspected.

Three hours later, the gliders were landing and we pushed them toward the parking area, making room for the next landing. My triathlon training for the day consisted of an unmeasured amount of running and 8 miles of bike riding. The bike came in handy.


I got home just a hair after sunset. I was back at the airport 12 hours later to fly with a student. He is doing final prep for his checkride, and things are really coming together, for him. For the airplane, it was a different story. The engine seemed weak during the takeoff roll, but that might have been the high density altitude. Coming back from the practice area, though, I noticed that the engine was only producing 2200 RPM or so, even though the throttle was at cruise setting. I played a little, firewalling the throttle and flying level. I only got 2400 RPM, not the 2700 RPM one would expect.

Strike Two! I called the maintenance office and explained. The Director of Maintenance sounded sad. "It's getting weak," he said. I was hoping for something different. But a Designated Examiner had also complained about it last week, and I guess my call was the final straw: the airplane is out of service for a month while they replace the engine.

The next student had some visiting family and wanted to do some sightseeing. In a different plane, of course. Except he had asked that the airplane be topped, and the extra fuel meant that we would exceed the maximum takeoff weight, by a lot. Two rides got turned into three ("The easiest way to carry a big load is to carry a lot of little loads").

We helped his mother into the back and he started up. I looked at the tachometer and noticed a little sticker saying "Oil Change Due 8131;" the tach read 8132. I told him to shut it down.

I called maintenance again. I was lucky: someone else answered. "Did the oil change get done without the sticker being updated?" I asked. This has been known to happen, although usually I discover it at 0400 and have to wake someone up to resolve the issue.

"No."

"Can we fly it?"

"Let me check. Are you in the office?"

"No, we're in the plane."

A couple of minutes later he called me back and gave us the OK. But Strike Three!, as soon as we landed they towed the airplane over to the maintenance hangar.

That's three grounded airplanes in less than 24 hours. A record worthy of the Red Sox.

Something Totally New

Well, totally new to me, in this case launching a glider behind a truck. This has been around for quite a while, which you probably already knew, but it is worthwhile to celebrate the fact that after 25 years in aviation there is still new territory to explore.

Our tow pilot never showed yesterday, so someone got the bright idea of practicing ground launch. Only one pilot in the bunch has the necessary logbook endorsement, but he volunteered to sit in the back of the Blanik and show everyone how it went. It was a good day for it, with no wind at the surface and no noticeable change in the wind with climb. The airport was quiet. We reviewed the speed calculation (at least I could do a little instruction). Let's go! But I have never seen a bunch of pilots so reluctant to fly. Why? A lot of it is the huge amount of superstition about ground launch. I tried to tell myself that it was like an MU-2: not inherently dangerous, just different. Flying judgments based on superstition are no different than judgments based on superstition in any other area of life.

There was a little bit of bravado in the hangar. People asked me, as the "instructor", what I though of ground launch. "I have no experience," I said, "so how can I compare something I have done with something that I have not done?" There was a murmur of agreement. "On the other hand, when I was a little kid I heard about there being two ways of doing something [I tried to make my voice a little dusky here], but even with no experience I knew right away that I preferred one of them." This got a laugh.

I questioned my own reluctance to fly. I had an excuse: if I left early I could go to the EAA chapter meeting. No, wait, they met last night. I had another excuse: my zipper had failed, and I was running around with my fly open. Like anybody cared around the airport. But, if we did a bunch of flying then we would want to go out to dinner and how could I go out to dinner with my fly open? This was clearly unacceptable!

My motives were not pure. I was making excuses. People have been ground launching for years (hint: how did the Wright Brothers get airborne at Kill Devils Hill?). Tim had been doing it for years, we had all the right equipment, and the right number of people. Time to be the samurai and volunteer to go first.

So we climbed into the Blanik, Tim in back and me in front, with my zipper open. We did the checks and gave the signals. I had no idea what to expect. I had no idea what to expect! It has been a while since I said that in an aircraft.

We were too slow on the first one, and only got to about 400' before the truck ran out of runway. I looked at the wingtip's angle against the horizon; the angle was far less than the 45 degrees that I had been told to expect. We released, Tim gave me the controls, I wandered around a little (remember, we were pretty low), and landed. If nothing else, low level maneuvering in a glider is good practice for landing out.

We did a quick analysis and decided that the truck had to go faster. And now it was my turn to try it.

It was not that difficult. My initial climb was slow, dragging the rope, and that meant more friction and less final altitude, but we got off the line at about 700' above the airport. This was enough to try to work a little bit of lift, but still we were back on the ground in a few minutes.

Now it was fun. I pulled a little more strongly the next time, got the rope off the ground, and transitioned into the 45 degree climb. We were right at the maximum speed, which was good. Another one gave me a good feel.

I decided that it was someone else's turn, mostly because I felt that as the instructor I needed to experience what the ground crew was doing. Adam got into the glider, I got into the truck, we hooked up, and off we went. The glider seemed to hang in the air directly above us. They released, I released, and we drove off the end of the runway.

But they broke the weak link, so that was the end of flying for the day. Ground launch involves forces on the glider that the pilot cannot feel, so we use weak links in the rope to make sure that it breaks before the glider does. That's different from aero tow. Not dangerous, just different.

Ground launch requires everyone to pay closer attention to details. The goal is perfection. A lot of aviation problems would disappear if everyone aimed for perfection.