The Art and Technique of Landing Out

In my years of flying I have made my share of land-outs. I have reached a few conclusions on the subject. Landing at an airport is not necessarily better. At an airport you will most likely be scorned or ignored as a lesser form of life than your powered counterparts. Landing in the boonies isn't too good either. There might not be anyone home at the nearest house, and you could have trouble finding a phone. The best strategy is to land near a small town which has no airport. There will most definitely be a phone and you won't have to knock on the door of someone's home to use it. Better still, your arrival will probably be a major event.

It was Labor Day weekend of '90, Saturday had been great. I made a 140-mile cross-country flight in the Annebula. Sunday I flew the HP-16 and was just dying to go somewhere but the weather was weak and blue. Monday the Cu's were back again! I got the HP-16 out and declared Kiowa and return. Lift was moderate, 3-5 knots and cloudbase about 5500 feet agl. I headed into the wind as fast as I could go, it looked like a perfect day to practice up on my cross country soaring technique.

At Kingman I passed under Al Alexander in the Ka-6, but his thermal wasn't very good so I pushed on. Dolphining was working ok and soon I reached Zenda. Here I got a good strong climb to cloudbase. I headed south deciding that the Cu's looked so good I would refuse to circle above 3500 agl. After all, dolphining only helps if you pass through a few thermals without circling. I ran south happily dolphining lower and lower.

I reached Sharon, Kansas at about 2500 agl. In the last 3 miles I had passed under several good looking but rather dead Cu. At this point I was ready to take ANY lift. Making good cross country speed is nice, but staying up is most important. I headed south along the Highway out of Sharon toward the best looking Cu. Cloud after cloud I found sink. Several miles south of Sharon I had picked out a field as a potential landing site. At about 1000 feet I spotted an enormous dust devil about 3 miles away. Fat lot of good that did. At 800 feet agl I got the hint of a thermal and started circling. I was not going up.

Slowly, I drifted back toward Sharon, 5 knots up on one side 5 down on the other. My knuckles began to turn white and sweat ran down my face. I corrected but the thermal was elusive. After a few minutes, I found myself 1 mile east of Sharon again. By this time I had lost the 5 knot up part of my thermal completely. I was over a good field and drifting toward unlandable terrain. The desire to struggle on was overwhelming, but I submitted to the inevitable and put the gear and flaps down. In the pattern I searched for wires and other obstacles which could turn my landing into a crash. When I turned onto final and lined up for landing, my knuckles were most definitely white. With sixty degrees of flap down and slowed almost to stall, I touched down. The dirt flew and 50 feet later the HP-16 and I were stopped.

The flood of emotions after landing out under a sky full of Cu is quite unique. First comes an enormous sigh of relief for having not broken anything. Then an almost unendurable frustration; what in the world am I doing HERE? Only minutes ago soaring high and fast and now stuck so ingloriously in a plowed field. Another lousy thousand feet and........ The feelings gradually fade to one of mildly bitter disappointment. Oh well, the problem at hand was to get retrieved. I had landed parallel to a section road and about a wingspan away from it. There was no ditch and no fence and I was only a mile from town.

In town I found a pay phone and called my wife (Sandi and I had been married about a month). I asked her if she'd please go to the airport, get the trailer and come get me. Yes, I know you have a test tomorrow and our car doen't have a trailer hitch. I decided not to tell her that the tires on the trailer were rusting where they had worn through the rubber to the steel belt.

I had a good three hours to kill and decided I ought to make the best of it. I went to the only business open in Sharon, Kansas on Labor Day Weekend, the Blue Goose Lounge. I sat down at the bar and announced that I had just landed my glider a mile east of town. The patrons all perked up at this; you see it is hard to find a more bored group of people than you find in a small town bar on Monday afternoon of Laborday Weekend. One gentleman asked, "Is your glider white?". I told him yes, and he said, "Good, when I saw it I thought the heat was getting to me." I had a drink and explained all about gliders and what a hero I was. When I had finished I stood up and announced, "Well, I guess I'm going to walk back out to my glider now." As I headed for the door the bartender stopped me and gave me another drink, on the house. The one young lady in the bar who also happened to be about my age and rather nice looking asked if I'd like a ride. I smiled to her, "I'd love one."

She rounded up her three kids and drove me to the glider. I let each of the kids sit in it and showed them how the controls work. When Tina was ready to leave, I asked her who owned the land I had landed on. She said she'd find out and let the owner know I was there. I sat with the glider by myself for a while and was visited by passers-by about every 10 minutes. One truck drove up and a teen aged boy rolled down the window. He shouted to me, "You must not be very good at that, huh?". After about an hour the owner of my airport arrived. He introduced himself with a smile and gave me an ice cold drink. This land-out business wasn't all bad! Pretty soon 3 more cars drove up. One lady invited me to come back to her air conditioned home and wait there, but I didn't think that it would be good for Sandi to find me too comfortable.

Dad loaned Sandi his car to come get me, my brother Steve landed early to help her hook up the trailer, and somehow the rusty tires held together. She found me and helped put the glider in the trailer like an old pro. Sandi forgave me for dragging me from her studies, and we both managed to enjoy the afternoon. All in all about as much of a success as a land-out can be.