My Soaring Adventure By: Peggy Loeffler Posted: November 9 2002
What would it take to lure a born and bred New England girl away from the lush green hills of north-west Connecticut to travel to the hot Nevada desert in the middle of July? An invitation to soar, that’s what! My friend and fellow Connecticut 99, Neita Montague, has been trying to convince me to attempt gliding for a long time. Neita has been a power pilot for many years and more recently, a glider pilot. Every summer she and her husband, Mark, fly Neita's Grumman Tiger across the country to Reno, Nevada, and then spend the next two months piloting their Libelle gliders out of Air Sailing, a gliderport in the Palomino Valley north of Reno. On July 13 I had a window seat on a United Airlines 767 headed west, leaving behind my job and my husband and two boys and all their summer activities for nine days. I wondered what to expect; would I be able to tolerate the heat and altitude (airport elevation: 4300ft). Also, as a power pilot, how well and how quickly would I learn to fly gliders? From the moment I stepped off the plane in Reno and caught the scent of sagebrush dampened by a passing storm, I knew I was far from home! In the next week, I began to appreciate the desert and its unique beauty. I found I didn’t mind the sweaty work of pushing and pulling gliders in the hot midday sun, followed by cooling evening breezes. I grew to love the surrounding brown hills and red rock ridges, and the dark storms passing through with spectacular displays of lightning. Living in a dusty trailer at the airport, I shared many meals and stories with the other pilots. And with Mark as my patient and skilled instructor, I began my new challenge to learn to fly gliders. Staying close to the field, I learned take-off and tow procedures, rope breaks and procedures.
I credit my experience in flying taildraggers as well as aerobatic lessons in a Super Decathlon for keeping me alert on the rudder pedals while on tow. At least Mark seemed pleased with my ability to stay behind the Scout, and I developed a sincere admiration for all tow pilots!
We flew for three days in the Schweizer 2-33 dual trainer. Having just completed a check ride in a Piper Arrow for my commercial aeroplane licence a month earlier, I had to make a conscious effort to remember new and different checklists. At one point, during a too-high approach to land, relief passed through my mind as I thought, "I can always go around". That moment passed by in a microsecond, though, as Mark quickly demonstrated a steep slip to get us on the runway!
On the fourth day, I soloed. At this time, Mark began to stress the importance of precise landings. No longer could I be pleased with myself for performing a smooth landing - now he wanted me to stop the glider in a predetermined spot! If successful, I would be lined up with the end of the pavement, in place for the next tow on another runway. After several embarrassing landings, after which I would have to wait for someone in the cart (starting as a cloud of dust in the far, far distance) to retrieve me, I managed to nail that wingtip (by inches) with the end of Runway 3!
The next day I transitioned to the single-seater 1-26. What a thrill, to be alone in the sky searching for thermals to keep my little glider aloft, with a view of Lake Pyramid and the 8000ft brown peaks of the Sierras just below me! The sign-off from Mark in my logbook to solo records one of my proudest aviation achievements. Neita planned well - I'm hooked on gliding, and can't wait to return to the desert to refine my soaring skills!
