As a poor college student in the fall of 1959 I faced the same problem.  I chose to join a soaring club - the Orange County Soaring Association who based two WWII ex-military 2-seat training gliders,  a Pratt Read and an LK-10A , and a single seat Schweizer 1-26 at Skylark Field at Lake Elsinore, CA.  I paid OCSA  $100 to join and $10 a month in dues. Instruction in the sailplanes went for $0/Hr - something I could afford.  A half century of inflation has bumped the membership up to $300 and the dues to $55 but the hourly rate for OCSA's modern fleet of gliders and instruction is still $0.  If you're under 22 and a full time student, the cost is about half that.   That means you can start learning to fly sailplanes for the cost of a fuel stop.    What a deal!  See: www.ocsoaring.org

To make things even cheaper, we took camping trips to the El Mirage Dry lake in the Mojave Desert to launch the gliders with auto tows. OCSA still does this except urban sprawl has pushed the camps deeper into the desert.  Here's a story from my early experiences with this type of flying.

I rode my motorcycle from Los Angles out to El Mirage Dry Lake in the high desert Friday evening to camp with other OCSA members.  Early Saturday, I awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sounds of a campsite coming to life.  As I crawled out of my tent I felt the chill of the vast dry lake surface on my bare feet.  The sky was a deep blue and the sun was still a ways below the horizon.  The smoke from a campfire rose straight up as far as I could see.  The rumble of an early '60's muscle car broke the morning quiet.

"Get ready, we're gonna fly", someone shouted.  I put on my boots and a jacket against the deserts' morning chill and began to pre-flight the hulking Pratt Read - an unusual sailplane with side-by-side seating and "gull wing" doors.  Another pilot jumped in the right seat after offering to share the launch cost.

Satisfied everything was present and working, we strapped into cockpit and signaled our readiness to launch with a thumbs up.  Someone snapped a tow wire onto the release hook and leveled the wings and radioed the tow car to start the launch.

The launch began eerily as the glider surged ahead silently with no obvious means of propulsion.  We lifted off and slowly rotated into a 45 degree climb at 55mph.  As we climbed, the morning twilight dropped away and the brilliant desert sun burst into the cockpit.  The climb went on for a couple of minutes topping out 2500 feet above the dry lake bed.  I pulled the release when the climb reached zero and slowed to the 42MPH minimum sink airspeed where the sound of the airflow over the glider was barely audible.

The air was velvet smooth and the Pratt Read responded to our fingertips  What an incredible way to learn precise stick and rudder flying.  After 15 minutes of utter joy, I lined up for a landing.  With unlimited 'runway', I decided to play with ground effect.  Diving the glider down to a couple of feet above the lake bed, I let it cruise along for almost a mile before the single wheel kissed the fabulously smooth lake bed and rolled to a stop precisely where we had started from.  That auto tow cost 50 cents for a ride no Disneyland "E-Ticket" could match.

I opened the gull-wing door and the smells of breakfast again filled my nostrils.  I wanted to just sit there and take it in but someone else wanted to fly.   I turned the glider over to the next pilot and grabbed breakfast then took my turn running wings and driving the tow car.

Later, when the desert temperature soared into the 100's, huge dust devils churned across the lake bed marking strong thermals.  Then a 50 cent auto tow let me fly for hours at 12,000 feet enjoying the cool shade under cumulus clouds.

So, if costs are holding you back, consider a soaring club.  The flying and camaraderie are great and the costs are minimal.  To get started check out  www.ssa.org - on the right side of the web page click the "Fly a Sailplane Today" and the "Find Where to Fly" buttons.

Sailplanes are an exception.  Their minimum airspeed is not much faster than the birds themselves.  Large birds like eagles can glide in formation with us.  That they often choose to do so is a matter of great delight for sailplane pilots.  Silent sailplanes seem to get a aerial welcome from soaring birds  that noisy airplanes don't enjoy.

Watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQnGvqXLrJQ The beeping sound is the sailplane's audio variometer indicating strong thermal lift.  The pilot is learning he can't outmaneuver an eagle.

Soaring birds work cooperatively by watching each other to detect the thermal updrafts they exploit.  One bird soaring upward in tight circles will quickly attract others.  A sailplane in their midst is seen as simply a larger, and possibly smarter bird.  (After flying a couple of circles with us they tend to  abandon that impression.)  There is clearly body language communication between the birds - and with humans if we take the trouble to learn their language.

In desert areas you can see large flocks of vultures circling in thermals.  They clearly define the thermal updraft serving as markers for sailplane pilots looking for lift.  One has to be careful with circling vultures.  Sometimes they mark thermals, sometimes a dead cow.

A South African glider pilot told a story of being followed all day by a large flock of African Gray Vultures.  "What do you think they were doing?" he asked.  "Waiting for you to crash?", suggested a less than generous friend.

I've had eagles fly just ahead of the wing leading edge only a few feet from my cockpit.  Looking into those intelligent eyes at 16,000 feet is an unforgettable moment.  Most of you will recognize the look of respect exchanged between experienced pilots.  I swear, I've seen that look in the eyes of an eagle.

Once I spotted a long line of mountain climbers trudging resolutely up a trail well above treeline on Colorado's Mount Antero.  Indulging in a bit of mischief, I approached silently planning my glide so the sailplane's shadow would come up from their rear,  freaking them out one-by-one.

As I lined up my 'attack', I noticed motion to my left.  A Golden Eagle was pulling into formation with me.  Apparently, in a moment of inter-species body language communication, the raptor had interpreted my maneuvering as preparation for an attack on those "ground creatures" below.  The eagle seemed to be thinking, "This, I gotta see."

The hikers, a thousand feet below, froze as my shadow passed looking up at a silent white sailplane with an eagle flying in formation.  I would have given a great deal to hear what they were saying.

Another time a young student pilot and I were flying over the Pawnee National Grasslands of NE Colorado.  We had been cruising for almost an hour following a convergence line of weak but steady lift.  My young friend called out, "Bird, opposite direction, level".  I looked around him to see the head-on silhouette of a large soaring bird.  Since they spend most of their time looking down for prey and not clearing airspace ahead of them, I suspected it hadn't seen us.  "Lets drop down 50 feet and let it go over us", I suggested.

As the bird approached, I saw mottled feathers indicating it was a juvenile Golden Eagle - the avian equivalent of a teenager.  It probably had not seen a sailplane before.  As we passed into it's field of view, it went to a full startle posture with wings cupping the air and talons extended as if to say, "Woah!  What the heck is THAT?!"  It turned to get a better look at us and we turned with it, circling each other several times before parting on our respective paths.  It seemed to have learned sailplanes are just big, harmless things which are fun to play with.

Some encounters are a tiny bit less friendly.  I was returning to land with a passenger enjoying his first glider ride when I spotted a Golden gliding purposely, intently looking down at something near the hangar.  It was focused on our "apprentice hangar cat" - an orange tabby.  I really liked the kitten and thought it an inappropriate lunch for an eagle so I decided a mild intervention was in order.

I nosed the glider toward the eagle slowly overtaking it.  The eagle was so intent on the kitten that it didn't see or hear me until the nose of the glider gently nudged its pinion feathers.  That got its undivided attention and I was rewarded with a steely glare.  Then, with powerful wing beats it was gone.  The kitten was never bothered again - it had big friends.  The passenger had a story of a lifetime.

This is about piston engines - you know, those noisy things on airplanes that blow cool air over the pilot affecting his emotional well being. Most young folks today, having better things to do, aren't spending their weekends taking car engines apart and putting them back together like I did in my misspent youth. This episode in my life taught me that piston engines are basically transducers which efficiently convert money into noise, heat and noxious fumes. Fortunately, there's a useful 'side effect' called horsepower.

Why is this important? Well, a piston airplane engine converts money into noise pretty much the same way a 1950's hot rod did. They work on the same 4-stroke "suck-squeeze-bang-blow" principal.

This is about the squeeze-bang part. To squeeze (compress) the air/fuel mixture properly, and get the power (bang) we expect, the pistons have to seal to the cylinders well enough to prevent leaks. If they leak excessively, your mechanic will wag his finger at you and your wallet will get lighter.

To help keep things air tight, pistons have "compression rings". (And one called an "oil ring" but that's not important here.) They really are metal rings about 5 1/2 inches in diameter and very thin. Two of them fit very precisely into grooves cut into each of the aluminum pistons. There is a roughly 1/8th inch gap in each ring so a mechanic can expand them in order to slip them onto a piston and to allow room for thermal expansion. Keep these gaps in mind.

Rings are designed to rotate in their grooves once every few minutes or so to keep them and the cylinder bore wearing evenly. We know they rotate because cylinders do, in fact, wear more or less evenly. Unfortunately, top and bottom compression rings don't necessarily rotate at the same rate which creates a problem. Not a serious problem mind you, just a low level psychological warfare kind of thing inanimate objects are wont to indulge in.

It seems that every so often ring gaps on one piston will line up and your normally smooth running engine will run noticeably less smoothly. Eventually, the ring gaps will rotate past each other and, with full squeeze-bang restored, the engine will again run smoothly - as if by magic. Each set of rings has its own mischief schedule so the frequency and duration are unpredictable - sort of like slot machine symbols. To be fair, light engine roughness can be caused my many things, but the cryptic "come and go" kind is often caused by rotating ring gaps.

It always happens at night, over water or any time you are beyond gliding range of an airport with nowhere to land. In short, anytime a pilot is really paying attention to the engine. It will always end just as you cross a shore line, the sun rises or flat Kansas wheat fields appear.

Generations of aviators are familiar with the phenomena and even gave it a name, "Automatic Rough". When the AR gremlin does its thing, idle conversations stop and pilots eyes will nervously scan engine gauges - which, naturally, will say nothing is wrong. Nonetheless, maps will come out and nearby airports will be identified. The course may be altered to pass near them.

A really nervous pilot may land and consult a mechanic who will run the engine then shrug while looking at the pilot suspiciously - AR gremlins hide when a mechanic is present. This pilot will go on his way a little less trusting in piston engines - which some will say is not necessarily a bad thing.

So, back to my usual subject, flying gliders - intentionally. If you know how to land without an engine, "Automatic Rough" will seem a little less threatening and you may deal with it more confidently - and mechanics may stop looking at you sideways.

Most sailplane clubs have a tradition of taking their gliders and tow planes to a distant airport for a weekend to fly different skies.  Sometimes it's to the same place on the same holiday every year and sometimes it's an expedition to a place where no one has flown sailplanes before.  Expeditions to new places are always fun

This Memorial Day, a few of us trailered our sailplanes 200 miles south from Boulder, CO to Raton, NM.  As far as we knew, no one had flown sailplanes from Crews Field before.  Our camp organizer and tow pilot, Jeff Kline, had called ahead to make sure we would be welcome.  The incredibly friendly owners of Pegasus Aviation, Keith and Fern Mangelsdorf, made us our stay a very comfortable one.

I arrived Thursday afternoon to scout the airport and vicinity and set up camp on the airport ramp.  Others began to arrive but, unfortunately, no tow plane appeared.  Although the weather in New Mexico was great, low ceilings back in Colorado had Jeff grounded - the 180HP Super Cub has no IFR capability.   Gliders, snug in their trailers, can roll through almost any storm but VFR-only aircraft have to wait for better weather.

We took advantage of the delay to explore the airport and surrounding area.  Crews has two paved runways with full length taxiways and one grass runway, all ideally suited for glider operations - in many ways a perfect airport for sailplanes.  The airplane traffic is light and the ramp space is extensive.  Takeoff points, taxiway intersections, are close to the ramp so it's easy to push gliders to them and back.  Raton offers plenty of Motel rooms and restaurants for visitors.  If you are a 'shootist', the NRA's vast Whittington Center is a couple of miles north of the airport with North America's largest assortment of shooting ranges.

When the Cub finally arrived, we rigged our gliders and launched into the New Mexico sky.  The lift was so good my variometer was pegged up almost from takeoff so I released the tow rope at 1100 feet AGL in a strong thermal that took me to 14,000 feet.  After that it was just laid back easy cruising under fat cumulus clouds. 

The surrounding county looked like something right out of a Louis L'Amour novel with its flat topped mesas and extinct volcanoes.  The Capulin National Monument's perfect volcano cone was visible to the NE.  In between was vast open range short grass prairie, making off-airport landings and subsequent retrieves look easy.

On Monday late, we wrapped up the weather-shortened weekend, loaded our gliders into their trailers and headed home.  Jeff, in the Super Cub, threaded his way around thunderstorms in Colorado and kept in touch by radio so if he had to leave the Cub at an airport somewhere, he would have a ride home with one of us.

I can't wait to go back.  The typical soaring weather in the Raton area is usually much better than what we experienced.  The Colorado-Northern New Mexico has lacked an airport suitable for large contests.  Crews has real potential.

For airplane pilots, X-Plane and MS Flight Simulator X are excellent but they offer only limited glider features. Fortunately, sailplane pilots have a choice of excellent simulators written specifically for soaring. To satisfy purists, I have to say that no desktop computer will substitute for actual flying in real sailplane. Still, PC simulators have a much to offer.

As I write this a joystick sits to the right of the computer screen. It's always there ready for use. My application of choice is Condor, The Competition Soaring Simulator. (www.condorsoaring.com) I use it to simulate complex flight maneuvers. Condor has never failed to produce dead accurate flight dynamics. For the flight instructor, the greatest value Condor offers is as an "animated white board" used instead of drawing diagrams on paper or classroom white board. Animating a maneuver on a flight simulator has great training value.

I'd like to offer an observation about the way simulator pilots learn. All of the second to second situational information from the simulator comes to the pilot through the computer screen - in other words, through the eyes. To fly a PC simulator well and especially to land, you have to learn to see subtle visual clues. Really learning to see - to use your eyes efficiently - is hard work but visual skills are what make a superior aviator. I think this is why PC simulator enthusiasts do so well in real-world flight training. I've encountered youngsters with hundreds of hours on PC simulators whose flying skills were very impressive on their first flight in a real glider.

Many pilots have built "cockpits" with accurate panels and working controls. The outside view is projected on a large screen in front of the "cockpit". If this is over the top, at the very least get a good set of rudder pedals. Unfortunately, no commercially available rudder pedals really match glider pedals but you can easily build your own from plans available on Internet forums.

Condor contains a complete "flight school" that expertly demonstrates maneuvers, then allows the student to practice them. The school starts with basic skills and continuing all the way to competition flying.

Condor is largely Europe-centric with most of the photo-realistic scenery available for that part of the world. Still, flying a simulated glider through the Alps is really spectacular. You can make thermals visible with the "thermal helper" which purists consider 'cheating' but this help the uninitiated visualize how thermals are distributed in the sky.

Condor supports online multi-player contests. There are dozens of online contests you can participate in every week. You see the other players gliders and they see you. I know of several top contest pilots who spend winter evenings competing with other pilots around the world. If you try it, prepare to get beat - these people are GOOD and they'll leave you in the dust. If you don't let your ego get bruised, it's a great way to learn competition flying.

In addition to Condor, Sailors of the Sky (www.sailorsofthesky.com), SFS (www.sfspc.de) and Silent Wings (www.silentwings.no) are excellent choices. Silent Wings offers something special - you can download IGC flight logs from a contest and play them back simultaneously. You get to see the action from the cockpit of a real competitor. 50+ gliders in the same thermal is an impressive sight.

Of course, the panel can get more complicated than that. Owners of high performance gliders will equip them with a bewildering array of gadgets limited only by panel space, battery capacity and the owner's wallet. 760 channel radios and GPS are standard with transponders, though not required, becoming common. "Glass Cockpits" with moving map displays are becoming available.

The most important electronic instrument is the "Total Energy (TE) Vario" with a "Speed to Fly" (STF) display. (Think Vertical Speed Indicator [VSI] on steroids.) This instrument displays data the pilot needs to extract maximum energy from the atmosphere and use it efficiently in both cruise and climb mode. In effect, it shows the rate at which the gliders' energy state is changing with time.

A VSI merely displays vertical speed averaged over a minute - not fast enough or informative enough for finding and using thermals. Sailplanes are extremely efficient aerodynamically, so airspeed can be exchanged for height and height for speed with tiny pressures on the stick. An unsteady hand on the stick can make simple vertical speed readings unusable. The TE vario sums the potential energy of height and the kinetic energy of speed and shows the rate at which that sum is changing - i.e. whether the glider is gaining or losing energy displayed as vertical speed in Knots. This provides a very fast response yet relatively high "signal to noise ratio" when trying to find the core of a bumpy thermal.

The STF function of the TE vario displays a "Fly Faster" or "Fly Slower" command - slower in rising air and faster in sinking air to minimize height loss and maximize average speed in a straight glide. Just how much faster or slower depends on four things; the glider's polar curve, the expected strength of the next thermal, the ballast on board and the bugs contaminating the wing leading edge. TE/STF data is so important that the information is also presented as a complex audio tone so a pilot can be looking outside and still manage the gliders' energy state - critical when sharing a thermal with other gliders.

PDA's running special software with GPS input provide moving map displays. These maps show the usual stuff like special use airspace and airports. Some have a feature called glide footprint or an "Amoeba" named for the way it looks. The "Amoeba" is an outline drawn on the moving map showing the maximum distance a glider can go in all directions with consideration for wind and terrain elevations. Airports within the "Amoeba" are reachable, those outside are not. It follows the glider as it moves changing shape as conditions change. This display answers the questions, "Where am I and where can I go from here?"

Since the computer receives GPS data and thermal strength information it can keep track of the strongest parts of a thermal and suggest maneuvering solutions for centering the strongest lift. At greater range, an even more impressive trick is a database compiled from years of glider flights with coordinates of ground features which have generated thermals on previous flights. The software uses the current wind, sun angle and glider altitude to predict where the glide path is likely to intersect a thermal column.

The trend is to combine these data in a large LCD "Glass cockpit". Until very recently, LCD screens bright enough to be useful in direct sunlight consumed too much power for a glider's small battery. I think we are on the cusp of a radical change in panel technology similar to that seen in airplanes.

Everybody likes MS Flight Simulator. Next time, special sailplane simulators that let you race pilots all over the world via the Internet.

 Glider pilots can achieve recognition through the FAI badge program. The FAI Diamond Badge involves 3 required elements: Diamond Altitude is a 5,000-meter (16,404-foot) altitude gain above an in-flight low point, Diamond Goal is a 300-km (186.42-mile) cross country flight using a pre-declared Out and Return or Triangle course, and Diamond Distance is a 500-km (310.7-mile) cross country flight.

 The last day of the White Sands Soaring Fiesta looked like it would provide good soaring weather for a straight out distance flight with a landing somewhere to the north. My crew, John Held and I had to drive back to Colorado, so we decided I would fly as far north as possible before landing. John would pick me up and we'd trailer the glider the rest of the way. We would stay in touch by radio. There would be scores of gliders over New Mexico, so we could ask them to relay messages if needed.

 With the Nimbus 2C loaded with water ballast, the tow plane struggled off the runway at ALG. I released over the Sacramento Mountains near Sunspot, NM, solar telescope tower in a 500fpm thermal which took me to nearly 12,500 feet. My 1:40pm start was very late for a long cross country flight. Wary of the cloudless conditions, I glided north to Cloudcroft, NM at the best L/D airspeed of 65 kts. keeping both White Sands Regional and Carizozo Municipal within easy glide range. The conditions were marginal for starting cross country but I pressed on, making slow progress in the 2-300 fpm thermals.

 Slowly and carefully working weak thermals took me north past Sierra Blanca Peak and the old ghost town of White Oaks made famous by Billy the Kid’s exploits. By 3:15pm, I was 85 nautical miles out, still under blue skies near the dirt strip at Lincoln Station, NM. There a 500 fpm thermal boosted me to 14,600 and high based Cu’s began appearing to the northwest. A wind shift announced that I had crossed an invisible airmass boundary between weak conditions in the Tularosa Basin to the south and the much stronger conditions over the high plains of central New Mexico. Up to this point, John had no trouble keeping up with me on the highway below.

 All glider pilots flying cross country have some method for calculating the best airspeed to fly between thermals using a formula developed by Dr. Paul MacCready. The pilot must estimate the strength of future thermals and enter this into the glide computer as the "M" number. The higher the M number, the faster you glide. Changing the "M" setting in response to changing weather conditions is called "shifting gears". Since this is a SWAG at best, conservative pilots tend to set their glide computers for about half the expected thermal strength.

 Setting my glide computer to expect 300 fpm thermals, I sped NW for the clouds. The thermal under the first cloud was 1200fpm so I up-shifted to M = 600. I reached 17,800 feet south of Estancia, NM and the flight hit full stride. My main concern now was that a strong thermal would bump me above 18,000 feet and ruin the flight with an airspace violation. I left 1000fpm thermals at 17,000 to provide a vertical cushion. Even so, my glide radius included most of central New Mexico.

 For the next 2 hours the cycle of climb and glide hit a rhythm with the average ground speed near 115 kts helped by a 12 kt SW wind. The glides between thermals averaged 45nm, some as fast as 153Kts at a glide ratio of 148:1. The flight took me east of Albuquerque and to the Sangre de Christo mountain range east of Santa Fe. I was flying as fast as possible to make up time lost getting out of the Tularosa Basin. John fell far behind until we lost radio contact.

 Reaching Taos, NM at 5:22, I could see an E-W line of rain showers between Taos and Questa, NM that marked a second airmass boundary. Sunlight was on the ground north of the showers so I cautiously pressed on as conditions were weaker.

 Mosca Pass in Colorado proved to be the furthest northern progress I could make. Farther north in the the San Luis Valley condi looked grim with lightning and dust rings on the ground from microbursts. The Wet Mountain Valley east of Mosca Pass didn't look inviting either. Emergency landing options were sparse for the next 50 miles. At 6:28pm sunset was near and it was time to pick a landing spot.

 Several airports including PUB (Pueblo, CO) were within reach but the rules allowed a loss of only 1000 meters between release and landing altitudes so landing at a low elevation airport could mean a distance penalty. I radioed a glider pilot near Taos asking him to relay a message to John to expect a landing 32 miles to my SW at Alamosa, Elev. 7539'. Within a minute, the pilot radioed that John was making his way through Taos and knew where I would land. Ten minutes out, I opened the ballast dump valves to get the glider down to its landing weight. Commuter and corporate turbine traffic were arriving and departing ALS so, not wishing to get in the way, I orbited for 15 minutes waiting for the CTAF to go quiet. After landing and pushing the Nimbus off the runway, a GPS check told the story - 318 miles was good for the Diamond distance. The flight had lasted five and a half hours.

 A pair of commuter pilots weren't quite ready to believe my story until John drove onto the ramp at 8:15 to confirm it. We put glider in the trailer, grabbed dinner at a local restaurant and resumed the trek north by road. What a great way to spend a 4th of July weekend.

 Next time, more about sailplane avionics.

Racing a sailplane is one of the most challenging and utterly fascinating endeavors in aviation.  The top guns of sailplane racing have the strategic skills of a championship chess player combined with the tactics of a fighter pilot.  A racing pilot must find the strongest thermals, use them efficiently, then glide as far and fast as possible by picking the most efficient route to the next thermal.   To race any aircraft more fun than a glider will cost far more.  Skill takes the place of money in glider racing.

In the early days, rules were simple.  Points were awarded for altitude, duration and distance.  Altitude and duration were quickly dropped for safety reasons when it was found gliders could reach altitudes pilots couldn't survive and stay in the air longer than pilots could remain awake.  Distance stayed around until pilots were landing so far away they couldn't get back in time to finish the contest.

Like endurance and altitude tasks, distance was dropped because sailplanes and their pilots were just TOO GOOD for practical, safe contests if those tasks were used.  That left races flown around a closed course of a few hundred miles which got pilots home for the barbecue.  Although huge fun for the pilots, the gliders are out of sight for most of the day.

The very exciting FAI World Grand Prix series makes it a spectator sport.   20 seeded pilots, flying similar gliders, race against each other with real-time position data and multi-camera video telemetered back to the airport audience and to the Internet for everyone.  Grand Prix racing introduces sailplane racing to a mass audience, creating the possibility of sponsorship and prize money.  This is racing at its best and equal in gritty drama to Grand Prix auto racing.  See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FAI_World_Grand_Prix_2008

There are professionally made videos about glider racing which are among the most riveting, white knuckle aviation videos available.  I guarantee they'll keep you on the edge of your seat.  I strongly recommend "A Fine Week of Soaring", "Gladiators of the Sky" and "Wind born/Champions of the Wave" available from www.ssa.org > SSA Store > Videos & Music  or http://www.cumulus-soaring.com/videos.htm.

A schedule for the 2009 US racing season can be found at http://www.ssa.org > Sailplane Racing > Calendar.  Visitors are welcome at these events but if you choose to fly in, make sure you check NOTAMS since airports sometimes close for contests.  The best action for spectators is 10AM to 1PM as the glider stage and launch and again about 3 hours later as they scream across the airfield streaming contrails of ballast water.

The On-Line Contest (OLC) provides a racing opportunity for pilots who can't attend a sanctioned event.  Ten years ago two German glider pilots, Reiner Rose and Martin Petz with a team of volunteers and in cooperation with the German soaring web magazine Segelflugszene, created the OLC.  Their goal was a decentralized, worldwide soaring competition that would promote cross country flying and be available to many more pilots.

To compete, you fly any glider, any where, any time.  Go as far and fast as you can while recording the flight on a GPS logger.  Upload the encrypted logger file via the Internet to the OLC servers for scoring.  Gliders are handicapped so club trainers can compete with expensive racers.

The result has been amazing.  In the 2008 season,  OLC competitors logged 15,749,731 miles of cross country glider racing. Virtually every glider flight in the world of any consequence is entered - including those from sanctioned events.  The vast database of on-line flight logs told a story few would have believed.  It gave experienced pilots a way to realistically judge their own abilities while analyzing the techniques of others.   It allowed objective comparison of soaring sites and soaring clubs from around the world.  To see the latest US flights go to www.ssa.org > Sailplane Racing > Online Contest 'OLC'.  To view a map and altitude graph, click on the blue button to the right.   Move your mouse pointer left and right across the graph to see how the flight progressed.

Perhaps most importantly, the OLC offered armchair pilots the opportunity to vicariously ride in the cockpit.  If you register with the OLC you can download flight logs.  There are KML files that plot a flight on Google Earth.  IGC flies can put you in the cockpit with the pilot.  You'll need a free Google Earth plug-in "IGC Flight Replay" from http://www.ywtw.de/igcsimen.html.

Next time, diamonds in the sky - 318 miles from the New Mexico desert to the Colorado mountains.

Soaring Club of the Week: The Philadelphia Soaring Council operates a modern fleet of sailplanes at their own turf airfield located north of Philadelphia at Hilltown.  See:  http://pgcsoaring.org/

We have seen that gliders, once airborne, can fly high and remain in the air for long periods. Pure gliders lack a power source to get them in the air. So, how is this done?

The most common launch method in the USA is to tow gliders aloft with an airplane. Typically, an old crop duster like a Piper Pawnees is fitted with a tow hitch on the tail wheel. A 200 foot, 9/16" diameter poly rope with FAR specified weak links and forged steel rings at each end serves as the tow rope. If you hold a Commercial SEL and have the requisite taildragger time to satisfy insurance requirements, flying a tow plane can be a way to build time although you won't make much money.

For the glider pilot, it's like flying formation on the tugs "6 O-clock" or slot position. Airplane pilots will find holding position behind the tug frustrating at first - but 14-year-olds are known to have mastered it instantly. The skill owes more to riding bicycles than flying airplanes, which gives kids a head start. Like riding a bicycle, a day comes when it just "clicks" and you'll wonder why you thought it hard. The typical tow is to 2000' AGL with the glider releasing and turning right and the tug descending in a left turn for rapid, safe separation. Smart glider pilots choose to release in a thermal and not at a pre-selected altitude. That tow is likely to cost around $50 at a commercial glider operation.

There are many other ways to get airborne. Gliders have been towed by helicopters, dropped from balloons and dirigibles. If you have the right location, it's possible to just push the glider off a mountain. This attractive video is in Polish but you can see such a launch starting at 3:33. http://tiny.cc/ghmNn

The oldest method uses a bungee slingshot affair where two groups of three people each pull on the ends of a rubber rope laid out in a "V". The glider is attached to the apex and held back until the bungee is as tight as possible, then released to be shot off a ridge top. Wile E. Coyote appears to have been a consultant. Watch: http://tiny.cc/hSBt

Outside the USA, the most common launch method is by winch. This takes a bit of explanation so bear with me. A glider winch is a large machine resembling farm equipment with a big engine and a large drum of rope or wire. The winch is positioned as far beyond the departure end of the runway as room permits, and the rope is pulled out to the glider which is positioned at the other end of the runway - often 5000 feet or more away. The glider is pulled toward the winch, accelerating at around 1G reaching 60mph in about 3 seconds. Short of being catapulted off an aircraft carrier or hitching a ride on the Space Shuttle, that's more acceleration than any airplane.

The glider reaches flying speed in about 100 feet and begins a gentle rotation into a 45 degree nose-up climb at around 65 knots airspeed and around 4000 FPM climb rate. The climb continues at 65 knots with gently reducing deck angle until the top of the launch. At that point, the release is automatic - although the pilot will pull the release knob just to be sure. Watch http://tiny.cc/y0hZk or search YouTube with "Winch launch" or the German word "Windenstart"

Winch launch is huge fun, safe, very cheap at around $10 a launch, and a great way to practice landings. There are about 30 places in the US that do winch launch so it's a bit hard to find but well worth it. See: www.ssa.org > "where to fly" or FAST

Club of the week: The Orange County Soaring Association is a great training club who does winch launch at Hemet Airport in Southern California. (http://www.ocsoaring.org)

Wanna race? Next time, put on your parachute and game face and try to beat 50 other pilots around a 300 mile course - all about sailplane racing.

All aviators face the possibility of an unplanned emergency landing and are supposed to keep options in mind. Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger made the best of a very bad situation by gliding Flight 1549 to a landing in the Hudson River setting an example for all of us. Glider pilots have a special empathy for Sully and his passengers.

My personal standard is to keep at least two "known safe" landing sites within conservative glide range which, given the glide performance of sailplanes, isn't difficult. 99.9% of 'land-outs' are accomplished without damage to the glider or anything on the ground - although the pilots ego is another matter. Unlike airplanes, gliders land slowly and stop quickly so you don't need much landing room - a space the size of a football field will do nicely.

The following is a fictional story constructed from true elements of actual glider land outs.

You should have noticed a developing high overcast sooner. It has cut off solar heating that had been generating the thermals. You suddenly realize this flight will end soon and you are out of gliding range of a runway. (Been there, done that)

You can see many farm fields within easy glide range but which one is best? Farmers will cultivate any field they can and use rough land as pasture. Landing in a pasture with cows is bad because cows will trample gliders. Worse, you can't tell the difference between cows and bulls from above - landing with bulls is a VERY bad idea. Cultivated fields have been leveled, rocks removed and are generally smooth. Standing crops are a poor choice since they are likely to damage the glider and vice versa. Roads are too narrow and ALWAYS have adjacent obstacles like sign posts. The best bet is harrowed earth, stubble or freshly cut alfalfa.

You spot a big stubble field and head for it. As you get closer, and lower, you look for fence posts and power poles with invisible wires between them but there's plenty of room and it looks like there is a gate with access to a dirt road. You can see the wind direction in riffles on a pond so you pick a landing pattern and fly it just like landing on a runway. Full spoilers and wheel brake stop the glider near the gate after rolling a short distance. You open the canopy and it's quiet - really quiet. Welcome to rural America.

In the day, you would have set out on foot to find a telephone. Today, you press the "Help" button on your Globalstar SPOT which sends a short text message via satellite to a fellow pilot's cell phone saying, "I've landed out at these GPS coordinates, please come get me." (If your situation is more serious, the 911 button will summon emergency services in addition to your friend.)

Upon receiving the message, your friend will be cracking up. It's YOU in a farmers field and not HIM. He Twitters your land-out location to the known universe for everybody's amusement. Your one-man crew has swelled to three since it's traditional for pilots being retrieved to buy beer and a steak dinner. Free beer ALWAYS gets you a retrieve crew. They get organized, hook up your glider's trailer and hit the road.

Somewhat less mirthful, you wait. After a while a pickup stops on the dirt road and the lady driver yells, "What happened, the wind quit? Yuk,yuk." Then, "I'll unlock the gate - lock it when you leave - see ya later at the Steak House, hee hee". As she drives off you're thinking, 'this gal seems suspiciously well informed'.

When your crew arrives, you put the glider in the trailer and head for the local Steak House, obediently locking the gate as you leave. The pickup gal is there with friends waiting to hear your adventure. You learn your field has been used as an emergency strip before and the pickup gal knows about Twitter AND free beer. Friends, new and old, beer and a great steak have you in a much better mood.

So, how do you get sailplanes INTO the air? Next time I'll write about how gliders are launched. You probably know about towing gilders with airplanes. How about 0-60MPH in 2.5 seconds and 0 to 2000 feet AGL in 40 seconds for only $10?

Glider Club of the Week: Soaring Society of Boulder http://soarboulder.org Their playground is the snowcapped peaks of the Continental Divide and beyond.