MOM’S GOLDEN SEASON

By Steve Nichols, originally published in GHSA’s Cloudstreets, June 2015

I have always felt that one of the best things about soaring was the satisfaction that I derived from progressing along each step of the learning curve. The pleasure of achieving new plateaus, and the satisfaction of sharpening my skills each year in the pursuit of new goals. It can be equally satisfying to watch someone you are close to achieve their soaring goals. This is the story of my mother’s "Golden Season”.

When mom bought a one third share in a Ka 6 CR in November of 1984, she had logged over 800 hours in powered aircraft during 41 years of flying, but she had not yet completed a single soaring badge leg. When she began to set goals for the 1985 soaring season, she set out with a very practical "one step at a time" approach, and proceeded to practice her way toward attaining each goal. Mom felt that the first step was to become completely, totally confident in her thermaling ability, so she spent as much time as possible in the cockpit during the winter months, building her concentration, and stamina. Winter and spring soaring conditions along the Gulf Coast are often characterized by narrow, blue thermals, or very low cloud bases, and weak lift. Some might say that perfectly describes the type of weather a Ka 6 was designed for! After several three hour flights in weak conditions, she had an easy five hour flight in May.

She decided to participate in the Women's Soaring Seminar at Air Sailing gliderport near Reno, and if possible to attempt getting her Gold or Diamond Altitude Gain while at the seminar. She certainly was not going to get a gold altitude in Houston. It proved to be too windy for the cross country portion of the seminar, but the wave was working, and gold altitude was in the bag.

Unfortunately, the airspace window above flight level 18 did not open up until after she had to returned to the gliderport, so that another pilot could have a go at the wave. Her trip to the Women's Soaring Seminar provided a wealth of new friends, and she was exposed to ridge soaring for the first time. She also broke the ice with her first outlanding, at a near by duster strip. How "duster" was it? Well, lets just say the takeoff was briefly IFR, as in “I Follow Rope".

Getting to meet and fly with thirty other women glider pilots was great fun, and getting her gold altitude leg really proved to be a springboard for the rest of the season. Part of every successful soaring season is having good equipment to fly and a dependable trailer and retrieve vehicle. The previous owners of the Ka 6 were not cross country pilots, and the trailer showed it with very erratic handling characteristics while being towed. This problem was exacerbated by the subcompact car that mom was driving at the time. I think the trailer may have actually outweighed the car. When on tow at speeds above 40 mph the trailer frequently tried to outrun the car, making getting anywhere slow and occasionally very exciting. One of her partners and I spent a day moving the axle on the trailer back about three feet, and then spent the next three days bodily recovering from the modification. After having the rest of the trailer modifications done professionally, she was ready to take on the cross country season.

For her first task she chose a silver distance course to our neighboring glider club to the north located at Hempstead. The course would take her over several private strips suitable for an outlanding if she was forced down. Unfortunately the day did not turn out to be as strong as anticipated, and after painstakingly working her way along for 25 miles, she was forced to land at a crop duster strip called Woods #2.

After dodging the 50’ radio antenna mounted on the top of the hangar at the approach end of the runway, she realized that the dirt, left over from the construction of the runway, had been piled along each side of the runway. The dirt was piled five to six feet high and to make matters worse a barbed wire fence had been installed on top of the dirt berm. Staying in the exact center of the runway left her about two to three feet of clearance from the berm on each side. She came away thinking that landing off airport might have been less risky.

We had maintained radio contact during her flight, and when she committed to her approach I told her that we were only a few miles away and would see her soon. It goes without saying that Woods #2 is a private strip, but I had no idea just how private it was to going to prove to be. After an hour of unsuccessfully looking for the strip, I was beginning to think that I was going to have to explain how I had lost my mom. This was before GPS, and I knew where the strip was supposed to be based on the sectional, but it just was not where I thought it would be on the ground. She had told me to look for the hangar on the north end of the runway right next to the road. Easy for her to say, but I could not find the hangar. Two hours after she landed, a fellow club member that had driven his vehicle on the retrieve found her behind fifteen to twenty feet of vegetation that completely obscured the hangar and the glider from the road. If Earl wasn’t part blood hound she might still be there.

Undeterred by this initial setback, although somewhat less than confident in her crew person, she tried again for her silver distance and was successful. When I arrived in Hempstead, the first thing she said was "it was so easy". On the way home we stopped at an intersection in the highway, with a road sign that said Bellville 15 miles further to the west. She looks at the sign, turns to me and says, "next time I’ll go there".

After a dual cross country with Al Heath in the twin Grob over the first third of her preferred gold distance course, she felt ready to tackle the next level of difficulty. She chose a straight out course to Clifton Municipal airport thirty miles northwest of Waco. Two other club members flying LS-3s were also going to use Clifton as a turn point for their 500k out and partial return task.

Arriving at the field at 11:00 am, about two hours later than her crew felt she should have, she promptly cornered Jim Gibbs and Earl Barbin to rig the Ka-6. I seem to recall that I was the duty instructor that morning, anyway, that’s my excuse for not having the glider already rigged for her. Since she was "going for the big one", she even took time to tape all of the gaps (as if it would make any difference). After loading the barograph, I found out that my crew radio had suffered a battery failure (do you get the impression that I fly better than I crew?), so Jim Gibbs loaned me his ground station with his special I-can-hear-you-from-Kansas antenna. Then we started loading the glider with the rest of her "essential stuff”. Essential stuff translates to: extra clothes, small cosmetics bag, (hey I don’t ask, I just load it up). It was a very rushed start for such a long flight, but she got in the air by 12:30.

As usual, mom got off tow at 1,500’. Her rationale being, if I can get up at the field, I can get up out in the boonies. She got away from the field before I did, and our radio communications were intermittent at best as I tried to keep up. I was having difficulty keeping up because I was driving the Mercury equivalent to a Ford Escort, dragging a thirty foot long ex-horse trailer. It was slow going for her over the first 25 miles, but as conditions began to improve she began to push along.

Conditions began to down cycle as she approached 60 miles on course, and one of the LS-3 pilots was low a few miles further ahead of her. Approaching Lake Somerville she had to slow down and pick her way along the length of the lake, perpendicular to her course line, until she found a strong thermal near the center of the upwind side of the lake. Shortly after getting centered in the thermal she was joined by one of the largest hawks that she had ever seen. It came in below her, thermalled up through her (there are some things that will out thermal a Ka-6, but not many) and then went out on course to mark the next thermal for her, where she was joined by two more hawks. While she was cavorting with the hawks the blue hole that had been blocking her run further north, filled in, allowing her to progress up toward Cameron.

By the time mom reached Cameron, one of the LS-3 pilots had landed out and the other was struggling. An upper level disturbance was pushing a line of high cirrus out over the course line west of Waco. Coming out of the lake Somerville area I could see the heavy cirrus deck building ahead of her on course, and I asked her if she though it would shoot her down. She was talking to one of the LS-3 pilots who was being forced down at McGreggor, which would be well short of the distance that she needed. After considering her options, we agreed that her only chance seemed to be to try to stay in the sun by detouring to the east of Waco and to then try to get far enough north on that line of flight.

When I arrived in the Cameron area about 45 minutes behind her, the sky was totally overcast, with no CUs at all. At that point her chances did not look good, and I drove on as fast as I could, afraid that she would go down some place while we were out of radio communication. I assumed that we were out of communication because she was low, and I was right. She had left Cameron at 5,000 feet agl, but encountered no workable lift as she moved northeast to Marlin and had dropped to 1,200’ agl. After getting the airport at Marlin in sight she felt comfortable working the weak lift that she found over the red clay fields adjacent to the airport. Finally after scratching around for a while she connected with a good thermal to 5,500’, and informed me that she was heading for Waco. As I drove into the Marlin area, there was only one band of cumulus heading toward Waco; the rest of the sky was dead. The high cirrus increasingly overcast the area, but there was some streeting to the few CUs left, and she encountered generally good lift near cloudbase.

As I approached Waco, she radioed that she had the airport at Hilsboro in sight with altitude to spare. From Waco to Hilsboro she had a continuous street of moderate lift and was able to dolphin fly the last thirty miles without thermalling. After convincing the fellows flying model airplanes off the end of the runway that she had not crashed, and yes, gliders typically have their wings sticking up in the air like that after they land, and yes, everything is will be ok if you will just help me push the glider to the ramp. She then got to watch her crew arrive followed closely by the local police. I had flagged down the officer to get directions to the airport (some men do need directions), and the officer decided that he had to see this woman glider pilot for himself (women glider pilots probably qualify right up there with UFO’s in that part of the country). Since he was handy I drafted him to help me put the wings into the trailer.

The cloud street that mom had used to get from Waco to Hilsboro on was still there even after we had de-rigged. They were the only CUs in the sky. Mom had flown 192 miles in five hours and fifteen minutes, and to say that she was elated would be a considerable understatement. As we drove to dinner she told me how she thought that she would have to land at Marlin, but she just didn’t want to quit, and kept it going by scratching from one plowed field to another looking for a good thermal, and about thermalling with the biggest hawks that she had ever seen over Somerville and the wonder of seeing them moving out onto course with her from thermal to thermal. For myself, there was enormous satisfaction in helping her to work toward her goals and seeing her soaring dream come true.

Unfortunately the adventure was not over. The little tow car that thought it could, blew a head gasket in a little town renowned for the quality of its attorneys, but unfortunately not for its auto mechanics. Three days later we were on the bus for home, but that’s another story.