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I've spent the last 6 months or so really fascinated with gliders. You know, those things that you sometimes see flyinga round, no engines, towed behind other planes, etc? They're sometimes called soarplanes.
They are -beautiful-
In my mind, they are the closest thing a human being can get to actual 'flying'. Nothing but you and that which enables you to catch the wind - what keeps you up there is your own knowledge of whats around you, and how the air is moving, and what you and your craft can do to grab it and let it take you away.
So I found out about the MIT soaring club, now merged with the Greater Boston Soaring Club, and found that they do most of their operations out of the Sterling Airport - a mere 20 miles west of me.
And they give 'intro' flights. $50 gets you up, and flying, (obviously with an instructor), and if you like it, $25 of that goes toward a club membership.
Club membership is pretty cheap - like $100 a year or something, plus $25 a tow whenever you want to go up - and you get full use of the club's ships. They have a dozen+ on the field, and they're all in great shape (plus 2 tow planes).
Today I went.
80 degrees out, the club was active and busy. As I pulled into view of the strip, I could see at the other end the catty-corner leanings of ships (that's what most folks seem to call the gliders. I suppose 'plane' implies something with an engine) sitting out on the 'grid', waiting for a tow.
I parked, and as I was walking along the side of the field over to where GBSC had set up their operation, I heard the towplane (a Birddog) fire up, and -whoosh- another glider was towed up into the sky. 5 minutes later, the towplane was back, barreling down with full spoilers in, coming in at an amazing angle back onto the field. Passing over the waiting ships, *click!* - the towrope is dropped onto the ground, where the groundcrew scramble to pick it up, hook it up to the next waiting glider, and pay it out along the ground to where the towplane will taxi back to.
It was great.
I signed in, handed over my tow fee, and was added to the list for an intro ride. There were some people ahead of me, but it was hard to tell pilots from students from 'guests' like me. Everyone sort of mingled.
Gliders came in and landed, where younger kids would scamper across the field in 2 golf carts and a 4wd Honda ATV to tow the plane back to the grid for another run, or put it away for the day.
Finally, my instructor came up to me and said "Well, you about ready?" "Sure!" He looked at me critically "How much do you weigh?"
Uh oh. this was the part I was worried about. When I had last visited the strp, I talked to another glider owner and he assured me there'd be no problem with someone my size flying.
But that was solo. I needed to fly with someone else for now.
"Uhh... around 270."
"Hmm." - my instructor turned around and started goign through the numbers in his head. Much discussion, chinscratching, and general murmerings throughout the group, and we narrowed it down to 2 gliders. I climbed into the back seat of the first one, and it was a tight fit, but I -could- sit in it. Unfortunately, my legs were sort of folded under the pilots seat - I couldn't get to the rudder pedals. I could go up, but I'd be cargo. baggage. Ballast. I could never learn to fly in that position.
We tried another glider that was off to the side. This was sleeker, a shiny aluminum fusilage. For this one, I tried sitting in the back seat, not even close. Got into the front, and it worked. I could sit there, the canopy could close, I had enough room to move the stick freely and work the rudder pedals. it wasn't -quite- perfect, but it was workable.
Then my instructor started working the numbers.
And working. and working. and working. Frequent "270?" "Yeah." I actually wasn't sure how much I weighed. It -could- be as much as 270, I guessed I was closer to 255-260. (When I got home, the actual weight was around 261 on the bathroom scale).
After 1/2 hour of this, we gave up. There was no way to work the weights and balances on the current planes so that I could fly.
I was just too fat.
We could do it in the second ship if I were at the maximum weight for the front seat. 242lbs.
So now I have a goal. I need to lose about 20lbs.
But nothing sucks more than to have a dream pushed off because you're too fucking fat.
They are -beautiful-
In my mind, they are the closest thing a human being can get to actual 'flying'. Nothing but you and that which enables you to catch the wind - what keeps you up there is your own knowledge of whats around you, and how the air is moving, and what you and your craft can do to grab it and let it take you away.
So I found out about the MIT soaring club, now merged with the Greater Boston Soaring Club, and found that they do most of their operations out of the Sterling Airport - a mere 20 miles west of me.
And they give 'intro' flights. $50 gets you up, and flying, (obviously with an instructor), and if you like it, $25 of that goes toward a club membership.
Club membership is pretty cheap - like $100 a year or something, plus $25 a tow whenever you want to go up - and you get full use of the club's ships. They have a dozen+ on the field, and they're all in great shape (plus 2 tow planes).
Today I went.
80 degrees out, the club was active and busy. As I pulled into view of the strip, I could see at the other end the catty-corner leanings of ships (that's what most folks seem to call the gliders. I suppose 'plane' implies something with an engine) sitting out on the 'grid', waiting for a tow.
I parked, and as I was walking along the side of the field over to where GBSC had set up their operation, I heard the towplane (a Birddog) fire up, and -whoosh- another glider was towed up into the sky. 5 minutes later, the towplane was back, barreling down with full spoilers in, coming in at an amazing angle back onto the field. Passing over the waiting ships, *click!* - the towrope is dropped onto the ground, where the groundcrew scramble to pick it up, hook it up to the next waiting glider, and pay it out along the ground to where the towplane will taxi back to.
It was great.
I signed in, handed over my tow fee, and was added to the list for an intro ride. There were some people ahead of me, but it was hard to tell pilots from students from 'guests' like me. Everyone sort of mingled.
Gliders came in and landed, where younger kids would scamper across the field in 2 golf carts and a 4wd Honda ATV to tow the plane back to the grid for another run, or put it away for the day.
Finally, my instructor came up to me and said "Well, you about ready?" "Sure!" He looked at me critically "How much do you weigh?"
Uh oh. this was the part I was worried about. When I had last visited the strp, I talked to another glider owner and he assured me there'd be no problem with someone my size flying.
But that was solo. I needed to fly with someone else for now.
"Uhh... around 270."
"Hmm." - my instructor turned around and started goign through the numbers in his head. Much discussion, chinscratching, and general murmerings throughout the group, and we narrowed it down to 2 gliders. I climbed into the back seat of the first one, and it was a tight fit, but I -could- sit in it. Unfortunately, my legs were sort of folded under the pilots seat - I couldn't get to the rudder pedals. I could go up, but I'd be cargo. baggage. Ballast. I could never learn to fly in that position.
We tried another glider that was off to the side. This was sleeker, a shiny aluminum fusilage. For this one, I tried sitting in the back seat, not even close. Got into the front, and it worked. I could sit there, the canopy could close, I had enough room to move the stick freely and work the rudder pedals. it wasn't -quite- perfect, but it was workable.
Then my instructor started working the numbers.
And working. and working. and working. Frequent "270?" "Yeah." I actually wasn't sure how much I weighed. It -could- be as much as 270, I guessed I was closer to 255-260. (When I got home, the actual weight was around 261 on the bathroom scale).
After 1/2 hour of this, we gave up. There was no way to work the weights and balances on the current planes so that I could fly.
I was just too fat.
We could do it in the second ship if I were at the maximum weight for the front seat. 242lbs.
So now I have a goal. I need to lose about 20lbs.
But nothing sucks more than to have a dream pushed off because you're too fucking fat.
