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Book: Final Turn: A story of adventure, intrigue and suspense. by maurice engler
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Authors: maurice engler
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Germany after the first war. At that time the Germans were not allowed to operate powered aircraft so gliding became very popular. Some of those guys actually did fly with the Luftwaffe during the second war." Roger looked across the see Sandy's eyes widen a little. " Many of the best sailplanes in the world still come from Germany. They’re truly beautifully crafted machines."
"It must be a good area, and a good club if it survived that long."
"It is the best area in the country and probably beyond that. Those hills just to the left here, the Porcupine Hills, run all the way down to Fort MacLeod about 120 kilometers to the south. Parallel to them and about ten kilometers west are the mountains, first the Highwood Range and south of that the Livingston Range. That valley between the Porcupines and the mountains is like a cauldron during the summer. The air heats up in there and literally boils out. Many of the thunderstorms which threaten the city in the late afternoons are spawned in there." He could see Sandy giving that some comprehensive thought. An understanding of the local weather was crucial to the sport. Sandy looked the type who would quickly go up the learning curve.
"Do you have to tow the gliders all the way out there every time?"
"No. Towing is pretty much a standard procedure. I'll go over the details when we get there. Generally we tow the gliders up to 2000 feet above the ground and then they release. The trick is to try to reach that altitude in a spot where there is a thermal. On some days you can tell by the cloud patterns. Sometimes you just use the instruments in the tow plane. If the gilder releases in a thermal and starts the flight by climbing instead of looking for lift, there is much better chance of staying aloft."
They came up to a small gravel surfaced road that ran about a mile to the north to the airfield. Roger turned and slowed to keep the dust level from the tires down when passing by a farmhouse along the way. It was a courtesy to which club members had learned to adhere. The alternative was to take precious money from the club treasury to have to road paved or oiled in front of the farm buildings.
"How long do the sailplanes stay up? Can they go anywhere or do they just hang around the airfield?" Sandy asked making sure the window was tightly rolled up to keep the dust outside.
"Usually the thermals start just before noon, sometimes there are weaker ones earlier. The peak time is from two until five in the afternoon. They can last until seven, sometimes longer. It is not unusual to stay up for five or six hours.”
Roger turned into the airfield and parked. A number of people had camped at the field during the night. A few early risers were pulling sailplanes from their long trailers and preparing to rig them. In front of the hanger was a large grassy area used to assemble the gliders. On the other side of the area stood the row of glider trailers, each with its rear door facing towards the assembly area. Jack was there with the fuselage of his glider pulled out of the trailer. Roger and Sandy walked about the area for a few minutes.
"It’s amazing there is enough energy up there just for the taking. That's a long time to keep an airplane without an engine in the air. I suppose a lot of birds make use of that idea too." Sandy said as they left the car and headed for the tow plane. It was parked in front of the hanger.
"They sure do, except they are a lot better at it. Over here. Let's give Jack a hand rigging his sailplane." Roger diverted their course towards a glider that had been pulled from its trailer. The fuselage rested in a dolly and stood behind the open door of a long, narrow aluminum trailer that had been pulled from the trailer on the wheeled dolly. The fuselage stood wingless, looking a lot like a long slender white fish. The wings still stood in the trailer. They stood on edge, each on a wheeled dolly.
"Jack. This is Sandy. Here for a tow plane checkout. We
"It must be a good area, and a good club if it survived that long."
"It is the best area in the country and probably beyond that. Those hills just to the left here, the Porcupine Hills, run all the way down to Fort MacLeod about 120 kilometers to the south. Parallel to them and about ten kilometers west are the mountains, first the Highwood Range and south of that the Livingston Range. That valley between the Porcupines and the mountains is like a cauldron during the summer. The air heats up in there and literally boils out. Many of the thunderstorms which threaten the city in the late afternoons are spawned in there." He could see Sandy giving that some comprehensive thought. An understanding of the local weather was crucial to the sport. Sandy looked the type who would quickly go up the learning curve.
"Do you have to tow the gliders all the way out there every time?"
"No. Towing is pretty much a standard procedure. I'll go over the details when we get there. Generally we tow the gliders up to 2000 feet above the ground and then they release. The trick is to try to reach that altitude in a spot where there is a thermal. On some days you can tell by the cloud patterns. Sometimes you just use the instruments in the tow plane. If the gilder releases in a thermal and starts the flight by climbing instead of looking for lift, there is much better chance of staying aloft."
They came up to a small gravel surfaced road that ran about a mile to the north to the airfield. Roger turned and slowed to keep the dust level from the tires down when passing by a farmhouse along the way. It was a courtesy to which club members had learned to adhere. The alternative was to take precious money from the club treasury to have to road paved or oiled in front of the farm buildings.
"How long do the sailplanes stay up? Can they go anywhere or do they just hang around the airfield?" Sandy asked making sure the window was tightly rolled up to keep the dust outside.
"Usually the thermals start just before noon, sometimes there are weaker ones earlier. The peak time is from two until five in the afternoon. They can last until seven, sometimes longer. It is not unusual to stay up for five or six hours.”
Roger turned into the airfield and parked. A number of people had camped at the field during the night. A few early risers were pulling sailplanes from their long trailers and preparing to rig them. In front of the hanger was a large grassy area used to assemble the gliders. On the other side of the area stood the row of glider trailers, each with its rear door facing towards the assembly area. Jack was there with the fuselage of his glider pulled out of the trailer. Roger and Sandy walked about the area for a few minutes.
"It’s amazing there is enough energy up there just for the taking. That's a long time to keep an airplane without an engine in the air. I suppose a lot of birds make use of that idea too." Sandy said as they left the car and headed for the tow plane. It was parked in front of the hanger.
"They sure do, except they are a lot better at it. Over here. Let's give Jack a hand rigging his sailplane." Roger diverted their course towards a glider that had been pulled from its trailer. The fuselage rested in a dolly and stood behind the open door of a long, narrow aluminum trailer that had been pulled from the trailer on the wheeled dolly. The fuselage stood wingless, looking a lot like a long slender white fish. The wings still stood in the trailer. They stood on edge, each on a wheeled dolly.
"Jack. This is Sandy. Here for a tow plane checkout. We
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