Learning to fly hang gliders, advanced flying and first (quasi) solo

Day two was used to refine my takeoff technique and slowly introduce me to the glide literally 3 or 4 feet at a time as we made our way up a sand hill at another South Coast beach. The solo glide, if only for a few seconds, offered Tony the opportunity to assess my technique when it came to steering the glider, or shifting my body, to maintain directional control. Even during the takeoff it becomes important from time-to-time to keep the wings level to avoid any necessary turning once I became airborne. Even a small camber in the contour of the ground is enough to severely distort the airflow and affect the controllability of the glider while ground handling. For that reason, it often becomes important to wait a few seconds until conditions are consistent and the pilot is comfortable with the control of the glider prior to launch.

When the wind is sufficiently strong enough the glider will tend to want to fly so the pilot can, by lifting his elbows like he is un-holstering a pair of six-shooters, allow the glider to rise to the second grip position prior to launch and before taking your first step. The advantage of this, like any other aircraft, is that it reduces the takeoff distance, landing distance and approach speed. For a glider pilot especially, it means that he is more assured of reaching a safe flying speed and will quickly pass through the unhappy end of the drag curve prior to launch. It is not uncommon to only take one or two slow steps until the glider starts flying. Certainly, at Stanwell Park, it is not uncommon to watch an experienced pilot take a slow casual stride and then rocket near vertical in helicopter fashion in rising air currents.

As my launch height progressively increased, I identified with a painful error. I was instinctively twisting my body rather than shifting my weight when the glider started to turn. As a result, all I was doing was shifting my weight in the opposite direction to that intended. It was an amazing sensation watching the glider turning in one direction when I was applying so much apparent effort to turn in the other direction. The consequence, of course, is a landing crashing well short of spectacular. Tony assured me that it was completely natural and instinctive to do exactly what I was doing after years of riding pushbikes and motorcycles, and it only required repetitious launches at a slightly lower level to retrain my brain into doing what he wanted.

Approach to land

Day three of flying was orientated around correcting my twist in the glide. Back at the same location and at much lower heights, I found myself consciously relaxing my body and twisting my legs together so that I couldn’t and wouldn’t twist them during the glide. I had spent two nights prior visualising and mentally flying the glider – motioning with a mop handle what I would be doing if I needed to turn. As idiotic as I may have looked at the time – and as stupid as my brother said that I looked – the mild case of self-hypnosis seemed to work wonders and, amazingly, the glide and my directional control felt quite natural.

After my first couple of tandem flights (earlier on at Stanwell Park) I had issues trying to work out whether I was shifting my weight or steering the wing when turning. With years of sitting in a control seat, it felt very natural to think of what I was doing as steering the glider – but the reality was that I was shifting my body. After thinking of myself as ‘really’ flying, it soon became more natural to simply shift my weight in the direction I wanted to turn, and the wing would simply follow.

After my first couple of launches from a height of about 10 to 12 feet above the beach, I could hear Tony shouting his “Yahoos” from behind me. I really think that he got about as much satisfaction from my progress as I did. “It’s time you went off the top Marty. I think you’ve earned it”. Tony was referring to a 40-foot ledge that rides down a gentle slope onto the beach below. I guess that it equates to a real first solo. It was the first time I would have an extended unassisted glide and would have to apply lots of turns and technique to maintain control.

Carrying the glider uphill was almost exhausting although what followed was well worth it. What didn’t look all that high from down on the beach might as well of been 30,000 feet. The landing area looked like a million miles away and all of a sudden the glider became a whole lot heavier than it was a few seconds earlier. Tony strapped a radio to my back and talked me through what I would expect from the glide. “If I see you twisting Martin, all I’m going to say is twist. Okay”? Tony talked me through the importance of a positive launch and control once in the air. He reaffirmed the need to cross my legs at my feet. “Crossing your legs will do a number of things, but important now is it will center your body weight and make it more noticeable should you start to twist your body in a turn”. After having completed my first solo more than 15 years ago, and after sending countless solos myself – it was my turn to again to reacquaint myself with unfamiliar taste of nervousness.

I picked a Northern peninsula as a target that would be used to assist with directional control in the glide. I observed the windsock near my landing area and observed wind lines in nearby rock-pools and the ocean to confirm wind direction. I gave Tony a ‘clear’ and went through the launch sequence that was now very routine. First position, elbows up and glider light, slide to second position, bar in and body out, positive steps and… blastoff. After the launch I relaxed the bar and let the glider fly off the hill. This is what flying is all about! The entire glide lasted no longer than 20 seconds but it was the most enjoyable airtime I could remember in a number of years. I crossed my legs and, very mindful of my history of doing the twist, controlled the glider by shifting my weight to the landing area.

The end of a solo 20-second glide

In principle, landing a glider is not that much different to a fixed wing aircraft. As the aircraft approaches the ground, slight forward pressure is required to maintain height along the beach. As the airspeed decreases, only small amounts of forward pressure is required to maintain height. When the pilot runs out of forward pressure, and at a safe speed to do so, the pilot pushes forward to stall the wing. It is a matter of then controlling the glider on the ground. After my first glide and landing I could hear Tony cheering both in the radio and 50 feet behind me on the beach. In fact. Tony’s “yahoos” became my method of quantifying my improvement.

What followed was a number of glides from the same location with Tony making reference to areas of improvement after each landing. Each glide introduced varying degrees of difficulty such as turning and speed control. Towards the later glides, Tony had me fly a fast approach by pulling the bar in towards my chest to simulate the approach speeds I could expect after a real flight. With the faster approach speed and increased airflow, it was much easier to steer the glider and was far more sensitive in the flare.

Next Time: Captive Flying

This blog was initially published in a flying magazine in 2004. It has been reformatted for this blog.

Marty is a Grade 1 multi-engine/IFR flight instructor. He's spent most of his flying life to date in various turboprop types but is currently a Boeing 777 First Officer. Marty is also a programmer and operates a number of non-aviation businesses. You can read Marty's posts here or follow him on Twitter.