Two ways to become a better flier

I just read the artical below in an old AMA magazine. It wouldn't take
much for this article to apply to full size sailplanes.

http://www.modelaircraft.org/insider/nnl/0305.pdf

Brian




from the Clarence Sailplane Society, Glenwood NY Two ways to become a
better flier by Marty Timm, editor see BETTER FLIER page 2 NATIONAL
NEWSLETTER MARCH 2005 2 NATIONAL NEWSLETTER MARCH 2005 1

I don’t know about others, but I know I have the most fun when I’m
comfortable with what I’m doing and not worrying about picking up the
pieces from a mistake that could have been avoided. I am reminded of
an old joke about a visitor to New York City who asks a local, “How do
you get to Carnegie Hall?” to which the local responds, “Practice,
practice, practice.” While “practice” is well and good, it helps to
have some objectives to aim for. I have found two things that have
helped increase my skill and my enjoyment of the hobby. They are the
League of Silent Flight (LSF) and competition. The LSF is a self-paced
program that gives RC sailplane pilots simple, achievable goals to
shoot for as they improve their piloting skills. Those who participate
in LSF are likely to become better pilots, and will find that they
enjoy flying more. The other thing that has helped me is participating
in competitions. Now this is where a lot of readers are going to skip
to the next article, but I hope some will read on and discover one of
the keys to my enjoyment of the hobby. Gordy Stahl posted the
following text in RC Soaring Exchange. I think it sums up what the
attraction to competition is for those of us who partake in that
venue. Give it a read, and ask yourself if you might be missing out on
something good. Editor’s note: The remainder of this article was
written by Gordy Stahl. “For years I used the argument ‘I don’t like
competition flying because I just want to fly sailplanes, I’m in it
for the fun.’ I’d go out and fly around hoping not to land in trees or
hit something during the landing. Once in a while I’d hook into some
no-brainer lift and put in, what seemed like, hours per flight. I
thought I was pretty good at “getting my sailplane way up high,” so I
attended a sailplane contest. I had no clue about winch launching,
what the tasks were, or that I would be expected to put the nose [of
my airplane] down in a specific landing zone—right on time. I
attempted to get some help or some information about how to do the
tasks, but everyone was pretty busy getting their equipment ready to
fly themselves. To me, it seemed like they weren’t very friendly. I
gave it a try anyway and really thought I’d be in the winners circle
because I was one hot glow power flier (for real). When I ended the
first flight with a pop-off and a one minute time in a five-minute
round— completely missing the landing area—it became pretty clear that
my skills didn’t extend into the competitive soaring world. That
competition set the tone for the next 10 years of my RC soaring
experience. I’d still go out occasionally and put up whatever
sailplane I picked up cheap at a swap meet. I would usually end up
wrecking it on launch or during landings, but I was having fun. When I
moved to Louisville, Kentucky the sailplane club met every Thursday
and Sunday with winch and retriever. Most of the guys were involved in
contest Soaring and were excellent pilots. I could not understand what
the attraction was to competition! I mean, on Thursdays and Sundays,
we’d spend all day in the clouds on just a few launches, with very
little time waiting around on the ground. There was no stress to
compete, just float around all day. However, I quickly noticed that
they all were launching less than I was. I would go up to where they
were going, but I would end up having to land. They landed their
models near them, but I was always walking for my airplane. But no way
was I going to get involved in the rat-race of competition. I had all
the reasons why I wasn’t going to get involved—busy that weekend, not
interested, don’t care what some other guy is doing, I’m just a sport
flier, I just enjoy being out—you’ve heard them all. Another thing I
noticed was the guys would go off together to contests and come back
kidding and laughing about the results and the fun they had. By not
being involved in contests, I was shutting myself off from my friends
and their shared experiences, but I didn’t want to compete because I
knew I couldn’t do the tasks. I hadn’t practiced the tasks, and I
wasn’t prepared. I knew I would be uncomfortable there, and that
wasn’t fun—especially knowing I would be beaten. You see, if you can
do the tasks, you win, and all I had been doing was having fun. That
part I was starting to get, but I had one thing way wrong about
contest flying. In soaring it’s not possible to be beaten. There is no
way in competition soaring can you ever be beaten; you can only do the
task or not. Other pilots have no affect on our success or failure. At
a contest, we show up as if we are going to work. The boss says get
five 10-minute flights, make all the landings perfectly, and you will
be rewarded. The rest will be paid in the form of having a day of
soaring, and an opportunity to measure their learned and practiced
skills against others flying that day. If the assignment is MOM, you
get to test your learned and practiced skills in a more precise
comparative situation. It is definitely possible for someone who has
studied and practiced his hobby more than I, to end the day with
results closer to what the boss assigned, but no one can beat you in
soaring (well maybe in Combat). Task flying is what every one of our
models was created to do. Not one thermal duration ship was ever
created to just go out and soar around. While they all can do that,
they really come alive when put into a task format. They show their
strengths and expose their (or their pilot’s) weaknesses. When I hear
that old tome about competition soaring, I think back to Shakespeare
and me, “I think thou doth protest too much.”