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#1
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Most amusing un-landout
Not quite along the same lines, but still a good story.
I flew out about 45 miles to the West of Sunflower (Near Hutchinson, KS) one not so great looking day. I got to an airport I had landed at the weekend before when trying to fly home from another glider field out in Western Kansas. 'Neat,' I thought. 'I will complete last weekend's flight.' So, I started back and things got bad. Real bad. And fast. Minor OD'ing, and lots of shadow out in front of me. The cu were disappearing fast. The guys at home were staying up, but it looked really bleak for me. I was down to about 800 feet when the smoke from a small brush fire in some farmer's back yard got up to me. Climb and drift. Got to 1500 feet, and drifted about 5 miles away. Went back, and repeated the process. I think I spent nearly 2 hours drifting and climbing to less than 2000 feet, then gliding back to the same little fire. I told the guys back home that if I could get high enough to glide over to Sylvia, I would probably land there. They were hanging in there and trying to encourage me, but it was getting darker and later. And it sounded from their reports, that they were on a downhill slide. I finally got high enough to drift and float back downwind to Sylvia (slightly away from home from where I was, but an airport rather than a field). So, I called and said I was heading there. I would call them in a bit and let them know my fate. They were still up and indicated the whisps were working, but just barely. I got to Sylvia at 600 feet, gear down and set up to land, when I hit a bump over the gas station. Lift! And all the way around! Gear back up, and I called to say 'I've got lift!' They responded. After a long, slow climb, I was at 3000 AGL, and ready to start working back east into the shadow. I wasn't high enough to get home, but there were a few whisps out ahead of me. I called them to pass along the good news. A bit of lift at the first whisp, and a little closer to being able to get home. I call and tell them I am on my way, and just need one more little climb. No reply. They must all be on the ground by now. The next whisp, and a bit more lift. I am now about 20 miles out, and 3000 AGL, so I figure that even with a little headwind, the Zuni and I can get home. I call and let them know I will be back in about 15 minutes. Still no reply. 10 minutes out, I give a call saying I will be there in just a bit. I make another call 5 miles out, and buzz the field, overjoyed to be home, as it is total overcast, and now threatening rain where I had just been. The field is empty. Nobody is there. Not even my van and trailer. Hmm. This can't be good, I thought. Pattern, land, and push the Zuni over to where my trailer was last time I saw it. Nothing on the field. No note, no signs of life, just the car of a friend. Ah, he must have decided to go get me. But, I had told them I was coming home. Why didn't they turn on the base station radio in my van and call to see if I was still up? Oh, well. I walk about a mile to the field owners house. He isn't home. I go to a house I use to know, and ask if I can borrow their phone. I call my friend's wife (the one who's car is at the field), and she hasn't heard anything from him. I figured he would have at least called her to say he was going to be late, as he had to go get someone. Call the owner of the field I told them I might be landing at. No answer. I call another friend in town. No answer. In desperation, I call 911. 'Sorry, this isn't an emergency, but if you guys see a silver and black Chevy Van pulling a 30 foot long white trialer, can you tell him to go back to the gliderport?' My friend had gone to where I said I might be landing an hour and a half previous. He cannot fild the field because it is pouring down rain. Visibility is less than 50 feet. He ends up in someone's driveway, gets directions, and has a minor issue when backing out. The guy's mailbox lost, and my trailer got a minor scratch on the back end. He finally gets back just before the sun would have gone down (but it was already getting dark because of the storms). He told me his tale, and we put the plane away. About half an hour later, the rain and wind hit the field. A week later, the owner of the field asked me 'What the heck was going on last Saturday?' It seems he was listening on a police scanner and heard the call go out to try and retreive my retreive! Flight time that day was 3:45. 45 minutes out, and three hours to get back home! Retrieve time and miles not included. Steve Leonard Wichita, KS Zuni 2 ZS |
#2
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Most amusing un-landout
On May 1, 10:37 pm, Steve Leonard
wrote: Not quite along the same lines, but still a good story. I flew out about 45 miles to the West of Sunflower (Near Hutchinson, KS) one not so great looking day. I got to an airport I had landed at the weekend before when trying to fly home from another glider field out in Western Kansas. 'Neat,' I thought. 'I will complete last weekend's flight.' So, I started back and things got bad. Real bad. And fast. Minor OD'ing, and lots of shadow out in front of me. The cu were disappearing fast. The guys at home were staying up, but it looked really bleak for me. I was down to about 800 feet when the smoke from a small brush fire in some farmer's back yard got up to me. Climb and drift. Got to 1500 feet, and drifted about 5 miles away. Went back, and repeated the process. I think I spent nearly 2 hours drifting and climbing to less than 2000 feet, then gliding back to the same little fire. I told the guys back home that if I could get high enough to glide over to Sylvia, I would probably land there. They were hanging in there and trying to encourage me, but it was getting darker and later. And it sounded from their reports, that they were on a downhill slide. I finally got high enough to drift and float back downwind to Sylvia (slightly away from home from where I was, but an airport rather than a field). So, I called and said I was heading there. I would call them in a bit and let them know my fate. They were still up and indicated the whisps were working, but just barely. I got to Sylvia at 600 feet, gear down and set up to land, when I hit a bump over the gas station. Lift! And all the way around! Gear back up, and I called to say 'I've got lift!' They responded. After a long, slow climb, I was at 3000 AGL, and ready to start working back east into the shadow. I wasn't high enough to get home, but there were a few whisps out ahead of me. I called them to pass along the good news. A bit of lift at the first whisp, and a little closer to being able to get home. I call and tell them I am on my way, and just need one more little climb. No reply. They must all be on the ground by now. The next whisp, and a bit more lift. I am now about 20 miles out, and 3000 AGL, so I figure that even with a little headwind, the Zuni and I can get home. I call and let them know I will be back in about 15 minutes. Still no reply. 10 minutes out, I give a call saying I will be there in just a bit. I make another call 5 miles out, and buzz the field, overjoyed to be home, as it is total overcast, and now threatening rain where I had just been. The field is empty. Nobody is there. Not even my van and trailer. Hmm. This can't be good, I thought. Pattern, land, and push the Zuni over to where my trailer was last time I saw it. Nothing on the field. No note, no signs of life, just the car of a friend. Ah, he must have decided to go get me. But, I had told them I was coming home. Why didn't they turn on the base station radio in my van and call to see if I was still up? Oh, well. I walk about a mile to the field owners house. He isn't home. I go to a house I use to know, and ask if I can borrow their phone. I call my friend's wife (the one who's car is at the field), and she hasn't heard anything from him. I figured he would have at least called her to say he was going to be late, as he had to go get someone. Call the owner of the field I told them I might be landing at. No answer. I call another friend in town. No answer. In desperation, I call 911. 'Sorry, this isn't an emergency, but if you guys see a silver and black Chevy Van pulling a 30 foot long white trialer, can you tell him to go back to the gliderport?' My friend had gone to where I said I might be landing an hour and a half previous. He cannot fild the field because it is pouring down rain. Visibility is less than 50 feet. He ends up in someone's driveway, gets directions, and has a minor issue when backing out. The guy's mailbox lost, and my trailer got a minor scratch on the back end. He finally gets back just before the sun would have gone down (but it was already getting dark because of the storms). He told me his tale, and we put the plane away. About half an hour later, the rain and wind hit the field. A week later, the owner of the field asked me 'What the heck was going on last Saturday?' It seems he was listening on a police scanner and heard the call go out to try and retreive my retreive! Flight time that day was 3:45. 45 minutes out, and three hours to get back home! Retrieve time and miles not included. Steve Leonard Wichita, KS Zuni 2 ZS thats awesome Steve. Circling off fires is something I got familiar with on my 5 hr flight. Got down to about 1200 AGL at about hour 2.5 and had to circle off a grass fire to get back up. Thank god it was there or I would not have been a happy camper. |
#3
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Most amusing un-landout
Great story Steve!
I was born and raised in Salina and love to hear soaring tales from Kansas. I got my power license through "Lawrence Aggravation" in 1977 but only got into soaring about a year ago. I will definately have to check out the local soaring next time I visit. Thanks for sharing. FC Norton (FCZ) HpH304CZ-#17 N304BL |
#4
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Most amusing un-landout
I'm going to have to get a transcription of Bill Rogers' story of the
ride he gave at TuSC years ago. The way he tells it, it was very late in the day, and it got so dark coming back he couldn't see the ground much less the airport, and when glider eventually made contact with ground, it was right down the runway! |
#5
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Most amusing un-landout
Maybe an also ran for this thread....
There I was on my way from the Soaring Club of Houston to Fault Line Flyers (just N of Austin) only about 20 nm from FLF and at about 1000' agl in the PW5. Couldn't make Sybert, a little strip 15nm from FLF, and was looking over a nice, dark, plowed field as my landing spot. Then I saw a buzzard circling nearby. My ugly savior. As I rolled into formation behind him, he glanced back, flapped his wings and was gone. No point circling in the sink he had left. Set up to land in the field. On downwind doing a final check of the field, a four foot length of corn stalk rose directly in front of me. Hit the boomer and took it all the way to the top. Lessons learned: Dark plowed fields are my friends. Buzzards lie. Cornstalks don't. Multi-core thermals are the norm. |
#6
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Most amusing un-landout
Buzzards lie. Cornstalks don't. I like that! |
#7
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Most amusing un-landout
When I have been asked if I have ever had a bad landing I always tell
them about a special one. It happened a number of years ago on the last contest day of the Region 8 regional at Ephrata, WA. Shortly after the field went through the gate a very wet system moved in and put everybody in the survival mode. Everybody landed out. I had hoped to find some lift on the leading edge of the storm so had gone closer to it than most, but not this day. I picked my field which looked like the normal Columbia Basin field although a bit darker. I attributed this to the lack of any sun light on the ground and the rain. I set up a good pattern, put the gear down on down wind and then remembered that I had a load of water on!! Now I realized why I had not been able to work the half knot of lift I left. Opened the dump and continued the pattern. It was really raining hard and it looked like the ground was pretty wet. As I turned final I noted the field had a definite dark color and a sheen to it. Touched down, expecting the normal sinking into the fine dirt that is found in the area. Instead, I had a wave of green, slimy water going up over the wings, canopy, every place. I did not roll far. Now it is really raining so I decide to sit in the ship until it stopped. The rain washed most of the green slime off of the canopy and I could see my green wings. I could also smell the distinct smell of wet manure - I lived on a horse ranch and have been around farms. I also noted that I was sitting pretty low in the dirt. After about 45 minutes it stopped raining so I got out. About that time a pickup stopped at the edge of the field, I took a step towards it and lost my shoe in the muck and sank down over my ankle. I now looked at the ship and it was sitting on the belly, gear doors were not visible. I finally dug my lost shoe out, took the other one off - socks were lost - and slugged to the pickup. The occupants, two men, were having a good laugh watching. Turns out they had just spread manure, both hard and liquid from a dairy on the field. With the rain and the remaining water from my wing tanks I was sitting in a big slurry of sh-t. My retrieve crew showed up, it included two men in their 70's Frank Kruesi and Brian Case's father in law - who immediately lost his shoes and socks in the muck. We had to take the ship apart in the field, there was no way it would roll to the road. This required a number of trips through the goo. No damage except to the lost socks and mucky pants and shoes. By the time we arrived at the field the goo had dripped out of my plane and the inside of my trailer was a mess. Clean up was a riot. Yup, I have had a sh-tty landing. Tom Dixon Idaho |
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