CONVERTING A PPL TO A GLIDING PILOT

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TWO days to solo... that’s the offer being made by the Lasham Gliding Society to powered pilots. Yes, that’s right, two days to learn everything you need to know for the instructor to feel confident about letting you go off on your own.

Standing outside the cafe at Lasham Airfield, near Alton in Hampshire, watching various gliders being readied for a day’s sport, I’m not sure whether to think two days is too long or too short. After all, I’ve been flying powered aircraft for a fair number of years now – how difficult can it be? Then again, there’s the take-off. There are two choices: a winch launch (being towed up by a wire being wound in quickly at the other end of the airfield) or an aero-tow behind a powered aircraft. How difficult are they? On a monowheel, too. We’ve all heard the stories of how difficult the original monowheel Europa was to land in a crosswind. And what happens if you get too low while in the circuit with no engine to add a bit of height? No, two days sounds like it’ll be busy...

Anyway, into the cafe and I meet John Simmonds who is to be my instructor for the next two days. John is a full-time instructor at Lasham, and also has an NPPL to allow him to fl y the aero-tow aircraft.

John quickly explains the rationale behind the two-day course, “We’ll go through all the pre-solo exercises we would with anyone. It’s just that we expect a higher level of proficiency from a PPL and therefore the ability to learn more quickly.”

Sounds about right, but then John goes on to say that we’ll also cover spinning and recovery, which is not part of the PPL course anymore, but is part of the British Gliding Association’s training syllabus. Last time I went on a spinning course, I ended up feeling very green... First job of the day, though, is to attend the 9.30am briefing held for all instructors and pilots flying that day.

It’s in one of the many meeting rooms at Lasham, with a projector showing various websites. CFI Colin Watt starts with a weather briefing and the emphasis is on the soaring possibilities – not great today, apparently, though it looks sunny enough. But there’s a temperature inversion which will take time to warm up and the visibility is not great, either. However, by about 1pm, it could all come together. Next, we cover NOTAM and the screen shows a graphical display of NOTAM for a large chunk of southern England. Of particular note are various active parachute sites, and there’s a Royal Navy airborne surveillance exercise going on in the west.

Finally, Colin talks about the day’s ‘tasks’. Today’s task is a 100km flight around a triangular course, set to stay away from NOTAM areas and controlled airspace, and also to take account of the weather. There’s a handful of glider pilots who’ll be attempting the tasks.

You’ll have realised by now that gliding is a very different experience from regular powered flying. Us PPLs decide our own flights, plan them alone, usually, and rarely do any kind of organised flying with other pilots. Gliding is a sport, and one that takes all day quite often, and when you’re not flying, you’re helping others into the air.

For John and I, the first day of the two-day course is going to be in a motor-glider, a Rotax-Falke side-by-side two-seater, rather than a pure glider – that comes tomorrow. That’s because the motor-glider allows us to practice repeatedly the key skills and procedures without having to return for a re-launch.

The first of the procedures is the circuit, which bears only a passing resemblance to circuits for powered aircraft. For a start, you are descending throughout rather than maintaining a set circuit height. Second, you’re not necessarily aiming to land on the runway as such. John explains that Lasham is set up so that grass areas on both sides of the main hard runway can be used for landing. So, there are no runway marker boards, no lights, and the grass is kept mown everywhere. If you arrive back low and need to land immediately, you can.

LONG WINGS
At least the cockpit of the Falke is reasonably familiar, with the usual random selection of instruments, but at least it has a fairly standard six-pack of primary instruments. As we taxi out in the Falke, which has ‘normal’ undercarriage, I’m very aware of the length of the wings, but otherwise it’s a conventional tailwheel aircraft.

John handles the first take-off and once we’re clear of the circuit and at a fair height, he pulls the power to idle, so we’re now gliding – and hands the controls over to me. First job is to get used to the aircraft handling and I’m picked up immediately on my lack of use of the rudder pedals. “Typical powered pilot,” mutters John. Actually, I thought I was using the rudder pedals well, but far too gently apparently and this will be a recurring theme throughout the two days. “Rudder... more... less...” John patiently keeps on prompting.

The reason for needing so much rudder is the length of the wings, which creates lots of adverse yaw when using aileron alone to bank into a turn. It’s hugely noticeable – bank the aircraft without leading with rudder and the nose starts going in the wrong direction. But my problems are deeper – I’m not reversing the rudder when levelling out. After some time doing turns, including steep turns – always a good way to fine-tune handling skills – and getting used to the feel of the aircraft at various speeds, we head back to the airfield for circuit practice.

The usual procedure for gliders is to think of arriving at the start of the downwind leg at a ‘High Key’ position of around 800ft. No radio call required, just some simple pre-landing checks, and you are aiming to arrive at the end of downwind at a ‘Low Key’ position of around 500ft, and travelling at the correct approach speed – 60kt for the Falke.

Then, you turn on to base leg, but only 45° of the turn, on a diagonal leg. This is to help you assess the height, distance to your intended landing point and that the area is still clear. Another glider coming in behind you (but lower) may have turned in earlier to take that spot. Then, you go fully onto base to bring the aircraft over the airfield and make the 90° turn onto final at 300ft.

The idea is to be on final, at 300ft, over the threshold of the airfield, at the correct 60kt approach speed, ready to apply between half and two-thirds of the airbrake for the descent to land.

Airbrake – now that’s a term not often used in powered flight. It’s a handle inside the cockpit which operates the brake rising out of the wing. Gliders being good at gliding, the airbrake is essential for reducing the lift once you’re committed to landing. It feels like you’re controlling a big spring-loaded lever. You set half to two-thirds airbrake so that a) you’ve got a bit left if you need it, and b) you can remove the brake if you balloon during the hold-off, re-establish yourself and re-apply for landing. This is already a lot different from powered flying and after making an OK touch and go, then a full-stop landing, we take a lunch break to let my brain have a rest.

FIRST FLIGHT
That first flight in the Falke is just under an hour, and the rest of the afternoon is taken up with two more flights, making a total of 3hr 18m altogether, quite a lot of flight tuition in one day. A lot of the time is taken up practicing ‘landaways’ or off-airfield landings. We don’t actually land, of course, except for a practice back at a quiet bit of Lasham airfield, but this is a crucial skill for glider pilots to learn.
Of course, pilots of powered aircraft also do PFLs – Practice Forced Landings – but there’s a big difference. It’s obvious really, but I’m finding it hard to get right – gliders glide, that’s what they do. Powered aircraft also glide but nowhere near as far, so when the engine goes quiet at, say, 2,000ft, and the decision is made to land, you’ve got about three minutes to select your field so it’s going to be one within easy reach. With a glider, even a motor-glider like the Falke, you’ve got over 10 minutes – more with some gliders. Consistently, I find myself too close to the chosen field and time my arrival badly. Choosing the field is pretty straightforward and not a lot different than for a PFL.

John uses the mnemomic WSSSO, which he pronounces “whizzo”. Funny how stuff like that sticks in your head. Anyway, W is Wind Direction and Strength (obviously, land into wind), S is Size (doesn’t need to be so big as for a powered aircraft), S Slope (do NOT land downhill, you won’t stop!), S Surface (brown ok, green pasture ok, but not tall crops – and yellow rape you definitely avoid), O Obstacles (wires, livestock, trees – landing over a 50ft tree adds 700ft to the landing distance).

So, the decision to make a landaway is usually taken at around 2,000ft when there appears to be no chance of serious amounts of lift. You’ve plenty of time, so select the field carefully, preferably a second or third choice if possible in case you spot wires or livestock at the last minute. The process is the same as landing back at the airfield with the usual arrival at High Key (800ft-ish),descending to Low Key (400-500ft) at the right approach speed (faster than the usual gliding speed), then turning base and then final at 300ft. If you’ve got it right, the field will be right in front of you and you just pull on half airbrake and land. Landing a glider is a full stall in the hold off position so the touchdown speed is very low... if it all goes right.

Finally, I make a half-decent PFL in the Falke. I can almost hear the sigh of relief from John. At last we can go and do something else!

So far, we’d covered circuits and landings, upper air work including stalls and steep turns, and landaways. What’s left ‘s spinning, but John wants to save that till the next day. Instead, to finish off the day, and me, we find some lift – thermals – and practise staying in the thermal. John directs me towards various clouds to find the lift and then we bank around, me being clumsy with the rudder as usual and getting an earful (“Rudder, rudder...”)

You can see the lift on the ‘vario’ or vertical speed indicator, and feel it too. A couple of times we join another glider spiralling upwards in the thermal and the trick is to fl y opposite one another so you can see each other. This needs constant attention and tweaking to tighten or widen the circle, and is really hard work! One final circuit and we are down for the day, and I am totally mentally exhausted. That evening, I spark out at 9.30pm.

THE REAL THING
Second day! Now we are into the real thing, a proper glider. The two-seat training glider used by Lasham is a K13, a robust little number with a steel tube frame, composite mouldings over the nose and wing leading edge, and fabric elsewhere. It has three wheels – all in a line, so one small one on the nose, bigger one underneath and a small one at the rear. The metal seats looked painful, but aren’t too bad with a high density foam cushion under your bottom and an indent to take the parachute strapped on your back. Yes, you have to wear one in a glider.

The Lasham gliders are nearly all fitted with something called FLARM, which is a sort of traffic awareness system – useful because gliders can be very difficult to see because of their low drag profile. They also have an electric vario (a type of sensitive vertical speed indicator) with a high pitched scream that varies in intensity according to the lift being experienced. Or is that just me?

After a thorough A-check of the aircraft and briefing on the controls, we line up on the grass for our first aero-tow of the day. The tug is a Robin Regent DR400. The aero-tows are controlled by radio calls, and we wait for a winch-launch being carried out on the other side of the runway to finish and watch the cable to fall to the ground. Don’t want to take off and get tangled up with that.

On a busy Sunday, Lasham operates like a well-oiled machine getting gliders in the air using both aero-tows and winch – up to 100 aero-tows and 90 winch launches. Those winches launch up to 3,000ft at Lasham, by the way, so keep clear if you’re passing by.

BALANCING ON THE MONOWHEEL
We’re good to go, and the tug takes up the slack in the line and then accelerates. In the K13, we have to keep the wings level, ease the stick back to lift the nosewheel off the ground but not so far as to have the rear one touch. In effect, we’re balancing on the monowheel in all axes and it’s by far the most difficult bit of flying a glider I’ve found so far! We lift off before the Robin, but we have to stay just off the ground, rather than climb. Then, as the Robin lifts off, he too stays level gaining speed for a few seconds then pulls up quite sharply. The trick for us is to stay directly behind him -– if we can see his roof, we’re too high; too low and we fl y through his propwash; too far sideways and we’re all skidding.

It is not easy, this aero-tow business, but I’m getting plenty of practice as we’re towed up to 3,500ft before pulling the white ball-shaped knob and releasing. I pull left and slightly up, while the Robin goes right and down for separation and we’re gliding! The K13 is much nicer to fl y than the Falke as a glider. It handles really very nicely, with tons of adverse yaw that needs plenty of rudder to overcome. John, again very patiently, attempts to fine-tune my hamfisted handling with a series of turning exercises.

We make another three aero-tows during the day, and John keeps giving me exercises to improve my control behind the tug. One is particularly demanding – easing the aircraft out to the right, descend down to below the tug, slide sideways and feel the propwash and out the other side, ascend back up and then ease back in behind the tug. It seems pointless, but it’s all to prove I’m getting the hang of the aero-tow. It would be all too easy to over-power the elevator control of the Robin ahead. I get the feeling that the decision over whether or not I get to go solo is down to how I handle the tows.

One tow is to 4,500ft, the highest we could go under the London TMA, from where we practised spinning. The recovery technique is full opposite rudder immediately once you’re into the spin, then ease the stick forward to recover flying speed and then level off. We do several of these, with the last one starting at around 1,800ft so there’s some urgency about recovering and having enough height to get back to the airfield.

We do more circuits, this time I’m very aware that there’s no engine up front to save the day if it all goes wrong. The decision about when to turn onto base depends on the height/distance aspect, which is something John is drumming into me. And because you can land anywhere at Lasham, people do. We just happen to be using the area of grass in front of the clubhouse.
Landings are the bit I was getting right. Because you’re so close to the ground, judging the hold off is easy and it is just a case of stalling it without ballooning and then keeping the wings level.

A LONG FULL DAY
Finally, at the end of the fourth flight, John announces that I am ready to go solo. It was just past 6pm and it had been a long, full day.

So, with some metal ballast added inside the cockpit to compensate for the lack of a second person, I lined up behind the tug again. The line was attached, slack taken up (“All out” called on the radio) and we are off. I knew that the take-off was the hard part and it would be OK if this went to plan. The K13 came up on the monowheel OK; keeping the wings level was the next task. If a wing dips and strikes the ground, you have to instantly release the line and your left hand is on the knob for just that purpose.

Lift off! Got to keep straight behind the tug and just off the ground – 5ft or so. Tug lifts off! Keep my left hand on the release until we’re clear of the airfield, right hand working the control stick constantly but with small movements, each led with a touch of rudder. We hit some turbulence between 500ft and 1,000ft, which has been happening all day, and that’s got to be dealt with. The tug starts a gentle turn which I follow accurately, correcting any deviation promptly.

This time we end the tow at 2,500ft and I have a gentle play around with some turns. I can still hear “Rudder, rudder” in my ears, even though John is down on the ground! As my height deteriorates, I head back towards the airfield, and make sure I’m at the High Key position at exactly 800ft. I’m a little close to the airfield so I steer away for a few seconds then back on course.

Low Key and I’m spot on the 60kt approach speed and at 500ft. Turn the base diagonal and the intention is to land at the eastern end of the airfield. Turn from base to final and it’s all looking good, height right, speed nailed, and I add in half airbrake... except that I overdo this a bit and I’m going to land about 150 yards earlier than intended. I’m tempted to release the airbrake a bit and ‘work’ it like some kind of reverse throttle, but I’ve already been told off by John for doing that. No matter, I’m well within the airfield area and down, rolling out and stop. Yes!

A LONG FULL DAY
If you’re a PPL holder and fancy trying gliding, this course might work well for you. It costs around £720 (check with Lasham, as the price is still being worked out) for the two day course, which can include overnight accommodation. Other courses are available as well, and a popular one is a five-day course, which will take you further than the solo and get you on the way to the Bronze badge.

As well as offering training and being home to around 220 gliders, Lasham stages gliding competitions. It’s the UK heart of gliding, thanks to the excellent facilities and infrastructure. It has an excellent cafe, meeting rooms and a set of bunkrooms – some regulars have even based caravans on the edge of the airfield for weekends here!
W: www.lasham.org.uk
 

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