by J.A. Picabea

The thin, almost invisible wire, connected the two ships. One sat there, almost forgotten, waiting… the other was the recipient of a great deal of activity.

A small group of knowledgeable people were going about getting things ready, dressed in shorts, t-shirts and small rimmed cloth hats, they were briskly performing small yet important tasks, time was of the essence.

I was already strapped in, and was listening to the pilot going over some emergency procedures and last minute recommendations, he was behind and slightly above me, a retired man in his sixties, he was enthusiastic and cheerful about the event.

Our canopies were still open, I could hear the powerful motor of the tow plane, idling in the distance, its black propeller, a lazy windmill. It was a popular crop duster, now with an improved engine and prop, was earning her keep towing gliders into the sky. Her pilot had the cockpit door open, and was looking into one of the rear view mirrors mounted on the wing support strut. Further ahead, the long, faded, black runway, was waiting for us to go, I’m sure she had seen her share of close calls, and today, we were doing our best to deny her of such spectacle.

However graceful this business is, it’s still dangerous, and the possibility of becoming a negative statistic is always present.

Someone stuck his head in and asked me something, shortly after he closed the canopy and waited for me to lock it, satisfied that it was safe, he gave me the thumb up and walked away.

All outside sounds were muffled or eliminated, we were in our own little, glass roofed world, it was snug, and cozy, the the fuselage closely embraced us up to mid arm level, anything above that was translucent perfection, we were leaning back, with our legs stretched forward, we had comfortably become one with the machine…

And what a machine it was! I had met N2MG earlier at the hangar, and I was pleasantly surprised by her beauty. Over the years, I have seen aircraft from all eras and classes, I had studied the different approaches and results, but this was different, sitting there, leaning on her left wing, she was a machine of such delicate beauty, that had almost ceased being one.

Her flawless white surface could only be compared to a pearl, she had flowing lines and few sharp angles, she was very pleasant to the eye.

This boundless beauty was achieved out of the desire of being one with the wind, not one inch of her was designed with style in mind, she had been formed like a rain drop falling trough the sky, were the air itself creates the shape that most suits the occasion, and that’s how we have the simple, yet pleasant shape of the rain drop. In this case, man’s best technology had created our version of the raindrop, the glider looks this way because, at the present time, this is the most efficient shape we can come up with, nobody build it this way because “It would look nice”, and yet, because of the job she does, it manages to look so beautiful.

That unique splendor was going to give this adventure, and air of spirituality, seldom achieved by a man made object.

A hand waved a signal, the tow pane’s cockpit door closed, and soon after the engine cleared its throat and revved up in a thunder. We felt the thug on the wire and with that, the whole ensemble started down the runway.
A man jogged alongside us for a short distance, he was maintaining the glider straight and level, by holding the left wing tip, after a few strides he let go and we were on our own. We clumsily staggered for a short distance, the pilot using his skill to keep us level in the turbulence of the tow plane. A moment after, success!

We were flying! He maintained the glider a few feet over the runway while we waited for the other

airplane to do his thing. Now he too was flying, and we started to climb straight ahead, this was the most dangerous and difficult part of the deal, and, as we were pulled up, the airplanes started their little dance in the sky , the trick was to follow him without pulling the wrong way on the tow cable.

I looked outside in awe, I never get tired of this, the change in perspective that occurs when one graciously parts company with earth.

Now passing one thousand feet, we were still climbing in a course that more or less paralleled the airfield, this gave an unrestricted view of the place I just left, the long runway was surrounded by tired pale green grass that undulated in the wind, a few wildflowers added a nice touch here and there, I could see the buildings and a few aircraft parked around the apron, further down, at the other end, the vivid blue canvas canopy, set at the end of the runway, for those waiting their turn, there were a few parked cars near it, and a child was running about.

Suddenly, a warm feeling of love for humanity swept about me, I remembered those people I met this morning, strangers from all walks of life, that had showed up today with one common goal: to spend the day’s effort experiencing a new adventure, and that was the icebreaker that enabled us to converse like life long friends, sitting under the canopy, in creaky lawn chairs, we had passed the time sharing invisible riches.

A loud KLANG! brought me back to reality, we had just released the tow cable and started to bank right, the tow plane was turning left as he headed down to the field, a quick scan of the instruments showed an altitude of fifteen hundred feet, a rate of climb of six hundred feet per minute, and the speed coming down from eighty… we were in a thermal.

Now, sharply banked to the right, we started tight circles to stay in it, the object being to stay inside of the rising column of hot air. These thermals were generated by a large man made structure or by a natural phenomena, the great columns of rising air that move and change shape with the wind, are

the most common source of lift sought by the glider pilots. By staying in one of them, one gets pushed higher and higher, and by clever understanding of their properties, one can climb to great heights or travel reasonable distances. Like a sailboat skipper, the glider pilot must understand his surroundings and employ them to his advantage if he is to achieve a meaningful goal.

Our right wing pointed at a subdivision, now, some eighteen hundred feet below, the rest of the world spiraled about. I’m sure this was the structure generating our thermal, the group of nice houses home to families resting for the week end, seemed impervious of the services rendered to us up here.

I was observing the proceedings when a shadow quickly swept about the cockpit, something had just passed between us and the sun, the thought of a mid air collision flashed trough my mind, we were not the only ones flying today.

Moments later, it happened again, this time I saw the cause, and could not believe it, I had read of this in books, but never expected to happen to me the first time out.

We were sharing the thermal with an eagle, he, like us was using it to climb, and like us he was doing it out of pleasure, there was no way this bird could see through the summer haze and identify a target worth hunting, two thousand feet below…

His circles were tighter than us, and he was flying in the opposite direction, passing about fifteen feet above the canopy. Suddenly, he changed direction, far more agile than us, he could move inside the thermal at will, he had matched our angle of bank, and rate of turn, he was just of the left wing tip, and slightly ahead I could see his eyes looking into our cockpit, his wings did not move, they were gracefully extended, and I could make out the colors of its feathers, he steered with little, sharp moves of his tail.

We were honored that such magnificent creature had taken an interest in us, and awed by the event, we flew in the pleasure of his company…

It dawned on me that I should take a picture of him, and, just as the camera was ready, he started to turn away. I managed to take a picture of his departure, which I consult every time I wish to savor the moment again.

The whole encounter lasted a little longer than a minute and a half, but I’m sure it will be remembered for a long while.

We continued climbing, higher and higher, as if lifted by the gentle hand of a thoughtful angel, our circles were not so tight now, we were slowly sweeping the horizon with the nose, the line that separated sky and earth, passed just above the instrument panel, it was a splendid feeling to be up here, soaring like birds, floating mid air in an silent glide.

The uniqueness of the sport, had pushed us far from the cities, but I could steel make out signs of life, roads, small communities, a lake, host to the white wake of the unseen boat, the faint column of dust, telltale sing of the hardworking farmer.

I remembered reading about the barnstorming pilots of the twenties and thirties, enterprising individuals, that had purchased surplus biplanes and were going around the country like gypsies of the air, often landing on a grassy field just out of town, to take people for a short ride, their sales pitch: “See your house from the air!”

To me the statement had a hidden meaning, it means much more than the mere observation of our residence, from the sky, up here, the dramatic change in perspective, creates a situation in which the mind gets inspired.

Up here, we are detached from the everyday life, we are outside the “bubble” in which we live, we can look at ourselves from a distance, momentarily relieved from the ever present demands and responsibilities of our society, a breve opportunity to look at things from a new angle.

I call it “Recharging the batteries”.

Many of us routinely do this, some never stop to think about it, but, most agree with the results. Take, for example, the fisherman that spends the day at the lake, the hunter in the woods, the pilot in the sky, and many others.

We all have some way of doing it, and when we are out there, alone or in company of good friends, we are pressure free, the “bubble” is a million miles away, even if it only takes an hour to get back to it. Here we can think better, see our mistakes an study our hesitations, we can come up with a new plan and a few new resolutions.

But most importantly, we can reset our priorities. From here we can see how grandiose life really is, and suddenly, the need for a better cellphone, new hair color, or fancy automobile does not seem that important any more.

This is a healthy habit that helps achieve an harmonic life and keep us from being swallowed by our own problems and losing touch with what’s important.

See your house from the sky.

And today, I’m doing just that.

Now above three thousand feet, the pilot leveled of and and invited me to handle the controls, I could see that her beauty also existed in her manners, she followed my control inputs with grace, I have never steered anything that responded so beautifully and gently, not even the sailboat.

We flew straight and level, occasionally disturbed by an atmospheric anomaly, and slowly losing altitude, we enjoyed the shade provided by the cheerful puffy white clouds that were passing by, I could converse with the pilot with out effort, as the level of noise was comparable to a car going down the road, most of the sound was the hissing of the passing air, and the gurgling of an open air vent that cooled the cockpit.

We could have been up here until sundown, but we had to return to let others enjoy the feeling.

So we headed home, as we kept talking, I was learning more about the business, and I was paying attention at how the glider was flown, speeds, rates of descent, spoiler operation, and ultimately, lining up with the runway for the landing, we only had one shot at it.

After a reassuring tug at the seat belt, I was ready. It was a great view, the airfield straight ahead, the long runway was still there, waiting, now I could see the flowers again, and I realized it was soon to be over.

As we flew over the perimeter fence, I felt a sad feeling, the same kind we get when we steal a last look at the sea before disappears behind the buildings, as we depart from a great vacation, or when we turn around to look at a loved one as we walk down the boarding tunnel at the airport terminal.

It had been a marvelous experience, and was to be over within seconds…

We were now very low, ridding a cushion of air formed between the runway and the low flying glider, the pilot kept her on the center line, carefully judging the energy available and the distance to be traveled, we didn’t want to stop halfway down the runway, half a mile from the others.

Thump! The first contact with the runway, we made a slight bounce, kept flying for a second or two and then we landed, still going at a good clip, he kept the wings level until the last moment, when she expired as the right wing gently touched the runway….

I unlocked my canopy, and opened it, unstrapped the seat belt and push it to the sides, I rested my hands on the fuselage railings, and like the last kiss from a wonderful lover, I savored her last second. Then, I stood up on the seat, swung a leg over and stepped on the runway.

I was back in my world.