Aug 15,16 part 3 Soaring

Climbing upward toward the clouds we were connected to the plane in front that was doing all the work. Our plane, unpowered soaring in the draft, was soon to be free. The tow plane was flown by my cousin, behind me sat his wife. She was in control and told me to feel the levers, to hold the stick. It was an exhilarating experience sitting in the cockpit of a glider.

The evening before my cousin was at the controls with my kid and my wife. It was thrilling to watch. It was even more thrilling to be in a plane, let alone one without an engine. The sunshine and blue sky filled the horizon and in the distance we could see the Rocky Mountains shining in the bright sunlight.

Krista was uncertain, a little reticent looking at the aircraft. She smiled at me and asked me if I was sure. I knew it was safe. My cousin John has been flying for most of his life. A pilot with Westjet, he has spent most weekends in Innisfail at the airstrip flying. Soaring in a glider or flying the tow plane, he has the air in his blood. I can totally understand, after a mere twenty-five-minute taste of the air, Krista was thrilled as well.

Marijke waited patiently for her turn in the glider. It was exciting for me to watch my kid walk to the glider. I giggled when I heard my cousin ask her if she liked roller coasters. This was sure to be an experience for her to remember.

I watched with anticipation as the heavier than air craft was towed down the runway. When they start out there is a person holding one wing of the glider and he runs to keep up. Only fifteen or twenty steps and the glider is free on its own, trailing behind the tow plane; a Bellanca Scout aircraft. My eighty-three-year-old uncle was at the controls of the tow plane. He is doing great at this age in his life and I felt confident as they left the ground in tandem. My cousin was at the controls sitting behind my daughter. Higher, higher they flew, until I lost them for a moment in the sky. The next thing I knew we spotted the glider on its own and the scout was flying back toward the airfield.

The glider spun and drifted towards the ground and then back up again. My cousin was giving my daughter a bit of a roller coaster ride. He tipped the wings each way and made their way back towards the airfield. The evening air was still and calm, apparently not the best conditions for gliding. No wind and no lift, yet the conditions were perfect in many other ways.

The glider touched down to the earth with a subtle bounce and then a slow caress. They cruised up toward us mere mortals on the ground and slowed to a halt.

The cockpit popped open and my amazed daughter sat beaming. “that was awesome!” her grin stretched wide ear to ear and I felt an energized glow. I felt a connection with my daughter in having touched the sky. I had gone soaring once before with my cousin. I would wait until the next day for my turn to touch the sky. My teenaged ball of energy was satiated with a life experience. I was thrilled and thankful we could have been there for it.

Now it was my turn, I had to wait for my turn. There were other people on the airfield Sunday afternoon and after the night before I didn’t get moving fast enough to go before the customers did.

We had planned to go shopping at Cross Iron Mills; the mall. The mall would have to wait. Twenty minutes they said, so I waited: It took an hour. It was well worth the wait. My kid understood.

We lifted off from the ground, yearning to escape gravity’s pull. We bounced and slid behind the tow plane, we soared upwards, released from earths grasp. I was told to watch the altimeter. When it said 6200 feet that meant we were 3000 feet above the earth below.

It was a feeling of freedom, one I get when I ride my bike. I could feel the sound of the aircraft in front and the wind buffeting the fuselage of the lightweight flying machine. Like a clock, the altimeter crept up. My pilot went on the radio and announced our imminent release from the protective grasp of the Scout airplane in front of us. “we are off the line”

And like that a silence enveloped us; we were soaring on our own. I felt my pilot touch the pedals and the stick as she explained how to control the aircraft. I took my turn and she got me to try a turn. It was strange and unfamiliar, we need to push the right pedal and steer the stick right. But not too much or too fast. She then showed me how to stall the glider. As the nose crept up and our speed dropped we slowed to a stop and the nose dropped. Suddenly I was staring at the earth below. My stomach was behind me and I took a sharp breath. A breath of fear and excitement.

My super nice instructor then pointed to the river below and we spotted a few rafts floating down the Red Deer River. She said the river was a good place to find an inversion, to find some lift. Alas, it was an amazing, warm calm day, a day that had very little wind and very little lift. Slowly we drifted back to the earth.

As we touched down and cruised to a halt I felt a new connection with my world. For a brief time, I was free of gravity, I was soaring like a bird and reaching for the clouds. It was an experience I would love to repeat. One that is so rare that I last did it fifteen years ago with my cousin in that very same place. A place that holds a new memory for my daughter, my wife, and I.

It was a great follow up to our goodbye celebration for my cousin’s mom, my Aunt Dicky. I felt in some way she was there with us; Soaring with the birds.