Bob Grant <<caskydog>>
sends this story by Trevor Gildersleeve:

There are days in everyone’s life when things happen for the very
first time. Some things are simple like learning to whistle or snapping your
fingers. Others are bigger like a first kiss, first date, first time driving a
car, getting married, kids, etc. As we get older, “firsts” become far less
frequent; however, Monday, July 26th, 2010 has added at least three new firsts
for me.

The day was forecast to be a great soaring day, so good in fact that I decided
to take the day off work. I wasn’t the only one with this plan as I was joined
with two of the other 2010 rookie pilots, Tom from Indiana and Greg from
Michigan. We all had the same “first” in mind for the day. A fantastic soaring
opportunity! We were all there early and eager.

Setup and ready to fly by 11 AM, Greg was the first one up. His goal for this
flight wasn’t necessarily a big time soaring flight, but rather his first
foot-landing attempt. He had spent the calm early hours of the morning doing
some scooter-towing and simulator practice in preparation. His tow up was great
and while he was boating around Tom launched next. I had decided to wait a bit
longer to let things heat up a bit more, plus I had Chris Bratsis in my head
saying “you can still see the moon and you can’t soar under moon thermals”!
Anyways, both Greg and Tom came down within fifteen minutes. Greg had a great
first foot landing and Tom landed safely as well.

After some lunch and additional thermal cooking time, I launched in the Sonic
165 around 12:30. The tow was great, as I finally worked out my “Pilot Induced
Oscillations” or PIO. Frankly, now I don’t know why it was such a problem
initially because they’re just gone, which I’m grateful for. Once released,
there was lift here and there, but it wasn’t very big, and sink was more readily
available than the lift, so I headed back to the field.

While I was about 200 over the southern end of the field, I kept hitting a razor
thin 300 up piece of lift that I kept trying to get into. I did get back up to
800 feet, but I couldn’t find it again after that. Thinking back it either
bubbled up out of my reach or drifted where I wasn’t searching. Regardless, I
setup for a landing and came in just short of the spot. The guys back at launch
said they saw me working the low save and thought I was going to pull it out,
but that didn’t happen. Mark Bolt expertly pointed out the HUGE (and growing)
cumulus cloud over the spot I was working and said, “If you could’ve stuck with
it you’d be up there in that right now”. Thanks Mark, a little lemon in the
wound doesn’t bother me!

By this time Greg and Tom took another flight as well, but soon all three of us
were sitting at the picnic table again watching the veteran pilots (Mark, Dave,
Chris, and Floyd) getting setup. Us three rookies decided not to try again until
these guys launch! By around 3:00 it was go time and Mark launched, followed by
Dave. I was anxious to go and jumped back in line next. The tow was showing a
lot of promising lift (read: white knuckle rookie towing), and Tracy waved me
off in the center of a great thermal. I went straight up to cloud base at 4,900
feet.

While having the time of my life, and watching Dave quickly work his way up to
me, I saw a couple of other pilots launch, and a few sink out and launch again.
It was an amazing feeling being the highest one up and watching everyone else
down below working diligently to get up as well. I watched Tom work his Falcon
for the longest time, and I knew he was having the time of his life.

It was right around this time of euphoria (and cold hands) that I started
noticing the fog starting envelope around me, and the vario screaming at me that
I was being sucked up into a cloud. This is the first of the aforementioned
“firsts”. So I commanded myself, “don’t go in the cloud! You know this. Go
DOWN”! My first thought was to pull in and spiral down out of it, which I tried
unsuccessfully. I really wrapped it up too, but I was still going up. Now it was
really getting harder to see, and I started to get worried briefly.

Lots of thoughts raced through my mind, what if I can’t get out?? How fast is
the VNE (velocity never exceed) on this glider, I pulled the most G’s I’ve ever
pulled, how many is TOO many? I DO know how to throw a parachute, right? Ok, I
know those are some dramatic thoughts, but remember, this is the FIRST time I
was ever faced with such a situation and I was covering all the bases! Then, all
of a sudden, it dawned on me. Duh, just fly straight and get out now while you
can still see. Which of course moments later I was back out in the sunshine at
4,890 feet thinking what an idiot I was. The excitement wasn’t quite over yet,
because about a minute later I saw Tom doing the exact same thing I just did,
getting sucked up into the powerful lift, only to start struggling to get out of
it. It was like watching myself in the 3rd person. We both had a good laugh
about that one later.

I was up at cloud base for about an hour, and this was my second “first”! I was
foolish not to wear any gloves, and it was about 55 degrees. My hands were cold,
but I didn’t care one bit. It was all like a dream, watching everyone beneath
me, all circling in the same direction at various altitudes and circumference.
It reminded me of a baby’s mobile that hangs over a crib. I suppose it was my
version of my own personal mobile. Although with Floyd’s rigid wing Atos, he
kinda threw off the symmetry of dance, and was a bit of the odd duck in the
group.

At this point, I’m feeling really confident. I’ve been in the same spot, in the
same thermal cycle “all day” about two or three miles out from the airfield. I
saw Mark about a three quarters of a mile away at a different cloud base further
north west. Feeling like I should try something a little different, you know, to
get more experience, fly with a pro and overall just change it up a bit. So I
headed out on best glide from a nice comfortable altitude of about 4500 feet
over to where Mark was skimming the bottom of a huge cumulus.

Now begins the story of my last “first” of the day…

Interesting, I thought to myself, I guess Mark was a little further away than I
thought. I was at about 3200 feet by the time I got under the same cloud.
Expecting to find lift, but there was none. “Uh-oh” I said to myself. At this
point I looked to the airfield due south, and I knew right away it was too far,
and even if I was to take a bee-line, if I didn’t make it I’d be stuck in the
middle of fields and woods with no roads leading in. Don’t panic, I assured
myself, go back to where you were in lift all day. I convinced myself it’s still
there, so I spun around and headed back to my “old faithful”.

Once back, and at about 1900 feet or so, I suddenly realized why everyone was
always below me, which is because it was really hard to come up from a lower
altitude! Needless to say, at this point my worst fears set in, and I knew I was
totally screwed. It was like the movie Top Gun, when Maverick was in a dog fight
without Goose and feels helplessly lost, only to clutch his pals dog tags and
whisper, “Talk to me Goose”. Although my thoughts were, “Talk to me Tracy! Now
what the %&$# do I do”!?!

What I settled on was a few basic and obvious facts. Don’t land in a dangerous
spot. I quickly ruled out all the woods, ponds, and barbed wire enclosed cattle
filled pastures. Next was to try to land near a road. Everything was happening
so fast, yet so slow. I was cruising down Bradley road scanning the fields and
debating, which one? At about 800 feet, and bumping on a bit of a lift, I chose
a bean field that adjoined an alfalfa field. It was somewhat narrower than I
would’ve liked but was still the best option around. Totally aware that this was
really happening at this point, I focused on where to land, and knowing I could
NOT overshoot. I did two s-turns and at about 150 feet turned in on final and
burned in over the beans (and one last check to make sure there were no fences
ahead of me), I crossed into the alfalfa and flared. The field was on a slight
downhill grade, and it made for a bit harder landing that I hoped for, but I
didn’t care, I was fine, I was safe, and nothing was broken or in a tree.

My choice of landing place (given the circumstances) couldn’t have been better.
It was a short carry (100 feet tops?) to a mowed grassy entrance to the field
just off the dirt road. I had my cell phone, and extremely embarrassed, and
upset with myself, I had to face the music and call Tracy for help. Relieved, he
didn’t sound upset. He said he would come out to get me and to start breaking
down the glider.

Right then, a truck pulled up and into the field where I was. Praying it wasn’t
an upset land owner, I was relieved to see it was the very same neighbor that
the night before stopped on his bike to watch us launch tandem flights. We had
chatted a bit that night and he said how he sees the gliders over his farm quite
often. I never thought that the very next day I would be in his farm!
Regardless, I apologized and offered to pay for any damage if there was any. He
asked me, “You didn’t land in my beans did you?” Which I quickly assured him,
“No sir, I cleared the beans”! Relived, he offered me a ride back which I was
grateful for, but politely declined since I already had someone coming for me.
As quickly as he arrived, he was gone and I continued to break down.

Tracy pulled up with Greg a few minutes later and gave me a look of “did you
learn something from this?” which I of course did! We finished breaking down the
glider and in a bit of nod to my landing choice, he commented that it was a
tough landing since it was downhill. I of course attribute the fact that I could
pull that off on only my 10th or so solo flight because of the excellent
training and rigorous approach and spot landing emphasis.

Once back at the airfield, I took my well deserved ribbing from the guys, and
Tracy told me how everyone was calling me the “sky king” because I was doing so
great, however; that title was quickly replaced with “field king”. For another
Top Gun analogy, it’s like when Jester says to Maverick, “That was some of the
best flying I've seen to date - right up to the part where you got killed.” Or
thankfully in this case, only landed in a field two miles away.