A Family Adventure


in the mountains, ocean, and air

Emilie’s silver distance

August 11, 2024
Emilie Phillips

I enjoy group fly outs to small grass fields. Gliding turns out to be no exception. After a day flying with the other glider pilots, I was content ending my silver distance attempt watching butterflies dance in the goldenrod and puffy white cumulus clouds amble across a perfect blue sky.

A few weeks ago, I started planning 50km routes for the silver distance milestone. I used the open source gliderFlightPlanner to plot minimum safe altitude circles on a chart. There are three clear routes with lower decision points

  • northwest to Monadnock
  • west to Turners Falls
  • south to Toutant

I could pick a direction based on a day’s weather. This past Sunday, SkySight’s prediction was vague. North of Sterling, the thermals tops were higher than south. But in the afternoon, the northern sky was more likely to overdevelop into a solid cloud layer. SkySight also said there was a giant line of divergence squashing Sterling and points north. Near Turners Falls there would be convergence making lift. I’ve heard many stories of the Connecticut River sink trapping people at Turners Falls. I decided to go west, but with caution. If I released east of Sterling, the ridge before Turners Falls achieved 50km.

After helping me rig in the morning, Nelson claimed first spot in line for a tow. He had posted a task for the experienced pilots: Claremont, Northampton, Danielson and back. Seven other pilots queued behind, ready to try the task.

What actually happened was, Nelson led the way in staring at the sky in concern. The two place trainer gliders went up, and came back down quickly, and went up again, and came back down. There were long north-south bars of high clouds, and a general grayness to the south. But no cumulus clouds. I checked with everyone on the line what they thought of the forecasts for north, west, or south. Phil had the best advice. The weather didn’t seem to be turning out like SkySight predicted, so pick the direction based on what the clouds were doing when I got in the air. Finally at 11:40, Nelson decided there was enough hint of lift to take off. Before departing, he revised the task down to Keene, Northampton, Danielson.

Line of gliders waiting for a tow

My turn for a tow came an hour later. The first three gliders weren’t looking promising. Nelson had climbed out of sight. Steve W was clinging to a thermal that wouldn’t go up, and David S landed just before I took off. I crossed my fingers and hoped I would get towed to a good thermal.

My first attempt to thermal didn’t work well. I switched to a better looking cloud and climbed up to a comfortable altitude. Time to head out on task. The thin alto stratus clouds to the south looked problematic, so I went north to Fitchburg. Between Sterling and Fitchburg, I hit more sink than I expected. I arrived in the Fitchburg area at 2,700’ AGL. This seemed safe. The Fitchburg airport was in easy glide range. I spotted another glider a thousand feet below me. If an experienced pilot was ok down there, that confirmed my feeling of safety up here. Then I heard Steve W’s voice on the radio.

“Glider over Fitchburg, your gear is down.”

Arg. That’s why I found so much sink between Sterling and Fitchburg. A fancy retractable gear glider isn’t much use if you forget to retract the gear. The glider got much quieter after I fixed that mistake. I topped out the thermal and headed off.

To my northwest, there was a solid cloud street angling southwest back towards Rt 2. It would add another small detour on my way to Turners Falls, but I should easily make up time in the better lift under the clouds. Sure enough, I found lift where I expected. Steve W, hot on my tail, pulled in underneath me, and another glider joined us. I got comfortably high, and then headed west along the street. The street was working so well that I had time to consult my chart and analyze the clouds ahead. Off to the west I could see the four lanes of Rt 2 rising and falling with the hills. The road was completely shaded by the high stratus.

Time for plan B. The sky to the north was bright blue, dotted with puffy clouds. New goal: Monadnock to the northwest. I took a couple last circles under the street to gain altitude. Steve P joined in below. Northward, there wasn’t a street, but there was a solitary good looking cloud. I zipped over to it. Steve must also have thought the cloud looked good. He came too. I stopped for a 600’ climb.

This flight was going magically. Every cloud I picked was a good cloud. I was getting 200+fpm in every thermal. Breaking the bonds of Earth in a power plane is amazing. Flying on nothing but my own two wings had me grinning ear to ear. At this rate, maybe I could snag the Keene turn point from Nelson’s task even if I couldn’t do the rest of it.

Shade over Jaffrey

At the Wapack Range, I picked up another nice cloud. Here I had to make a decision. One of those high north/south bars of clouds shaded the entire valley between the Wapack Range and Monadnock. There wouldn’t be any thermals in the Jaffrey valley. The mountain and Keene beyond were in the sun. The cloud’s northern end was somewhere around Peterborough. I could go north to 50km from Sterling, but I would need more altitude. I could continue to Monadnock, but detour north to stay in the sun, or I could try to dash straight across the shade. Steve P chose north along the Wapack range. I headed direct to Monadnock.

I slowly sank while flying towards the mountain. Approaching the shoulder of Monadnock, I was nearing my minimum safe altitude. I caught strong lift. If I could gain enough height to fly five miles over the ridge, I would have my 50km. Then, as fast as I had found strong lift, I found nasty sink. A quick glance at the glide circles on the chart in my lap said it was time to retreat back to Jaffrey. This was my first time ever making the big decision to turn back on a cross country flight.

Emilie circling low over Jaffrey

Sink, sink, sink. Cold soaked ground doesn’t make lift. Almost down to pattern altitude. My best bet for a heat island was Jaffrey downtown. The high cloud had blown east. Was that a little lift? Nope lost it. Luckily, downtown is next to the airport. Wider circle to see if I can find the lift again. Over here. Seven circles and 200’ higher. David J said if you can hang out in zero sink in a good spot for thermals, eventually you catch the next one. Oh no, I lost it again, sinking again. What was Jaffrey’s frequency? I should probably be ready to call into the pattern. 122.8? 122.9? I didn’t dare look down at my chart to check. Any slip in airspeed control and I might lose 100’. Shift the circle closer to the airport. Another spot of lift, maybe. Yes, it’s working. 30’ up in one circle. Keep banked steep to stay in the core. Thank you Steve P for the tip to use rudder to help control speed in a steep bank. 1,000’ gained. I’m going to make it. Stay focused.

20 minutes later, I was finally back up at 5,000 feet. Time for a snack and water. Five thousand feet over Jaffrey was plenty to again try to reach Monadnock and my 50km. I set out west.

Again, I quickly hit sink. The first cloud didn’t work, so I turned back to Jaffrey. There I spotted Juan under a dark looking cloud. I followed him up to almost 5k. My first two attempts at Monadnock had been foiled. Both times I aimed for the southern slopes because the wind was blowing from the southwest. However, I had felt enough sudden up and downdrafts that I was clearly hitting turbulence downwind of the ridge. This time, I decided to head to the northern ridge and avoid tackling the summit head on. I found two marginal climbs and reached Pumpelly Ridge. My GPS said 35 miles back to Sterling. Time to head home. My head hit the canopy crossing back over the ridge.

This is where my flight starts falling apart. Fatigue set in. I didn’t notice it immediately. I caught a climb west of Jaffrey, and another one east of Jaffrey. I wasn’t able to climb all the way to cloud base. I no longer had the magic of the morning where I could clearly pick out the next lift. There were plenty of clouds, I just couldn’t discern the useful ones from the dead ones. I figured as long as I found occasional climbs, I could mostly glide back to Sterling. My glide computer said I would get to Sterling at 1,500’ AGL. Around Pratt Mountain, I checked my printed glide circles again. Something didn’t add up. I was almost at the minimum altitude and might need to retreat back to Jaffrey. I cross checked the glide computer. That box I had read was my height above ground level here. A different box told me I would arrive at Sterling at -1,000’ AGL. Problem. I went hunting for thermals again. I struggled to stay in each of them. I’d gain some altitude, then lose the thermal and lose altitude. As long as I was above my minimum safe altitude, I figured I might as well keep working east back towards Sterling. Then I revised my hopes to just making it back to Brookline. When the thermal off Watatic only delivered zero altitude loss, I needed to tuck tail and turn to the Mason NH airstrip. I told myself I could dig out over Mason just like I had over Jaffrey. Unfortunately, there was nothing but cool forest from Watatic to the airstrip. I detoured over the parking lot at Haffners and State Line. No lift there either, or at least none that I could find.

View from the Mason hangar

With the airstrip in sight, I put the gear down and committed to landing. I briefly worried that I hadn’t checked runway length, elevation and stuff, but then I looked out the window and thought “Naw, I’ve got this.” The approach is unobstructed. The runway slope to the north is a mild uphill. There was a puddle and reputed muddy spots. Nothing I hadn’t mastered backcountry flying. The landing was uneventful. The grass was nicely mown. After climbing out of the glider, I wandered down to the derelict DC-3 and the hangar. A radio was playing classic music (80s, rock, country, … something classic). A freshly restored Cessna 180 stood proud at the front of the hangar. Somebody must fly out of here regularly. Best of all, there was a comfy recliner. I sat down and surrendered to my exhaustion.

This was my first significant cross country flight. I am really proud that I kept trying and didn’t give up when the going got tough at Jaffrey. It is also a big milestone for me that I made the decisions to turn back to Jaffrey and to land out at Mason.

P.S. In post analysis a few days later, I discovered that I descended 500’ below some of my minimum safe altitudes on my chart. It worked out due to some combination of luck, and the extra margins I put into the altitude rings as a new XC pilot. I also benefited from knowing the Mason airstrip enough to not need a full upwind and downwind pattern. Looking forward to my next cross country flights, I need to continue to work on decision making, and work on better endurance.

Weglide flight track and analysis.

For the full silver badge, I completed the 1000m altitude task in June. SSA confirmed this flight met the distance requirement. What remains is a 5 hour duration flight.

All Photos

GPS Track