This article is being reprinted courtesy of The Soaring Society of America.
Work, that four letter word that often grounds me during days of unlimited cloud streets, had this time deposited me 700 nautical miles northeast of my ASW-20. Although I would miss the 20, this was hardly a bad situation as I was about to spend a Sunday - a hot, humid, and unstable Sunday - in Boulder, Colorado, the home of Mile High Gliding.A similar business trip to Boulder, two months previous, gave me a little time to arrange for a field check with John Campbell, one of several full-time staff instructors at Mile High. John took me aloft in one of his 2-32s, which was a first for this pilot. Flying the 2-32 was a pleasure and John's comparison of the glider's flight characteristics to that of a large airliner were closer to any description I had heard before. Not only was she heavy, the 2-32 was particularly stable - airliner flight qualities indeed.
Continuing the check out, this time in Mile High's Twin Grob, John proved to be a knowledgeable and safety conscious CFI-G.instructor. I could not have had a better instructor CFI for a new field encounter as John carefully pointed out the emergency landing fields and particular procedures required for operation at this busy General Aviation airport. Topping off John's careful and detailed descriptions of the Boulder area included a little unexpected information.
Cu's heavily populated the sky, causing almost overcast conditions. Photo by Kevin Cousineau.
Like many other glider operations, Mile High sported a baby Grob the G-102. At Mile High there was a difference, however. The rental income from this sailplane is donated to the Mile High Youth Gliding Association, a 501 (C)3 non?profit educational organization that promotes all phases of youth gliding in the Boulder area. John is involved in the organization and provides experience from his youth work with the SSA. Now I was doubly impressed. Not only was John an instructor and ride pilot, but he directly promotes soaring to young people our youth, helping to keep our sport vigorously alive.
Two months later, from my temporary Boulder office south of Boulder, I thought about the baby Grob while looking up at the towering Rockies. Starting on Tuesday the cu's began to form by 10 a.m. with little over?development until later in the week. Saturday looked so good that I seriously contemplated going AWOL. Only a full day off on Sunday prevented those thoughts from becoming reality.
Finally, by 11 am on Sunday morning I was seated in the Grob 102, parked on the flight line with oxygen, water, sectionals and a snack at my disposal. A few minutes later, with a low noise, four-bladed, Piper Pawnee in the lead, we were climbing toward the cu's, the lift and the fun. The baby Grob handled like many others I had flown, nimble on the controls and quick on the climb.
For the first 15 minutes after release, which seemed like an eternity, an eternity for people like me who lack any notion of patience - I struggled, sometimes climbing a hundred feet only to sink back down to the initial release altitude a few minutes later. Carefully judging my glide distance to the field, I pressed a few miles west into the mountains and was rewarded with better lift. At passing 9,500 feet the lift improved even more until the vario started showing 400 to 600 fpm most of the time.
Passing 10,500 feet I waffled about the sky attempting to attach the cannulathe cannula while simultaneously climbing in a thermal. From the ground this must have looked pretty strange as the Grob's nose rose and fell unsynchronized with the rolling movements of its wings. Finally, cannula attached and oxygen flowing freely, I once again centered the thermal and continued the ascent.
While climbing through, up and up we circled, climbing toward the clouds, yet passing 14,000 feet the clouds looked no closer then they had at 8,000. 1 continued west, toward the Continental Divide, my goal for the day. The lift was increasing with altitude and now averaged 800 to 1000 feet per minute.
The cu's were everywhere, filling the sky in places to nearly overcast conditions and northwest of my position a wall of virga presented itself. Fearing lightning I turned southwest. Even with this change of position the lift continued. Soon I was climbing through 17,000 feet while cruising at 80 knots toward the Divide. I cranked up the oxygen and, passing 17,700 feet, pulled the spoilers while cruising under growing bulbous white and gray clouds. For the next 10 miles I cruised at 17,500 feet maintaining that altitude using a combination of air speed and spoilers. It really doesn't get much better then this folks.
From the ground the Rockies appeared insurmountable, scraping the sky like giants. Now, from my current perch at 17,500 feet, they seemed less imposing yet far more expansive filling the canopy from north to south. At this altitude even the airliners outbound on the airways from Denver were below me, climbing out over the Divide. For a few minutes I was transfixed, mesmerized by the view of the Rocky Mountains far below and the beautiful soaring cu's above. There seemed to be a lot of air that day, filling up the spaces between the white tops of the mountains and the gray bottoms of the clouds.
Finally, 55 minutes after release I was over the Divide, looking north and south, up and down the range, taking in a magnificent view. I lingered for a while flying first south a few miles then north to my original position. I continued looking up at the sky wishing that the Class A airspace started at flight level 220 instead of 180 for that was just about where the cloud bases were on that day.
A few minutes later I noticed the virga, chasing me again only this time putting up walls north and south of my position. It was time to duck and run.
Descending from 17,500 feet to a pattern altitude elevation over 11,000 feet below proved harder then I expected. The lift was now everywhere, filling up the sky even between the clouds. Pulling out the spoiler again, this time to their full position I began to feel guilty at throwing away this much energy and altitude. Descending through 12,000 feet the guilt disappeared as the oxygen pressure fell to zero. Without oxygen I had little choice but to return to the field.
After a few minutes of wing-over maneuvers in the baby-G it was time to land. Putting the glider away, I was again reminded that the rental cost I was about to pay served a greater purpose I was going for more then just my high flight over the Rockies. The rental cost that day was about to help fund a new generation of glider pilot, maybe one focused on school the one struggling with school, while thinking about the sky and anticipating their next flight up and above Colorado's Front Range.
Applications for the Tom Bullington scholarship are available for any US resident age 14 to 25. The application form is available at: http://www.milehighgliding.com/common/mhyga_app.pdf
About the author: Kevin Cousineau lives in Lompoc, California and flies his ASW20 out of Tehachapi, California during the summer. He has accumulated 2,500 hours of flight time since 1983 including 750 hours in Gliders. He holds a commercial rating and provides rides for Mountain Valley Airport both on and off season. His previous articles have appeared in Soaring, Soaring Pilot and Private Pilot.
