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 Leaving the Nest
by Jake McGill
Oct 24, 2001
It's raining today in Boston so once again the closest I'll
get to flying is reading and writing about it.I emailed Pete Friday night in
hopes that we could finally get together and fly on our own. We both finished
our training this summer and soloed within a few days of each other in July.
Since then all of my flying has been "close to the nest" so to speak
at the airfield in Cape Cod. That means that all my flying is in view of my
instructor. Enough said.
Pete emailed back that he was game, so we met at a great beach site close to
Plymouth MA, about a 40 minute drive. I just changed cars from a big Ford
Expedition (what a gas hog that beast was) to a sports sedan. The kids are gone
so why not? Well for one thing, it makes PPG a hell of a lot harder. After a
trip to Home Depot I've got the motor stashed in the trunk inside a plastic
storage container. Keeps the mess and gas fumes contained pretty well.
I got to the site first and scoped it out. It was a bit foggy visibility and
about 65 degrees. A nice steady 7-8 mph wind right off the water. After Pete
arrived we agreed that conditions were OK so we went for it. One of the great
things about this sport. There are lessons every
flight.
Lesson 1- Bring all your stuff! While unloading my stuff it quickly become clear
that I left the top half of my cage at home. I was so pissed. I've been thinking
about this flight for ages and now I stupidly leave a part of my machine at
home. There isn't enough time to go and get it. Pete quickly suggested that
after he got a flight in I could use his top cage half (we
both have A3's). Great. I'm back in action. We moved all the stuff to the beach
and set up.
Lesson 2- Props eat stuff so be careful. I've never flown from a beach but asked
around and found that I should bring a tarp to set up on to keep the sand under
control. I placed my engine on my "tarp" (a bed sheet) and did my
preflight so I could start and warm up the engine. (I hadn't been run since I
few last in Early September). Pete was having a problem with getting his
machine running. I lent him a battery but no-go. Turns out he have a bad solder
connection at the starter motor. He was done for the day so it looked like I was
going to be only one PPG in the air. I gave Pete the camera. Lots of problems
priming the engine but finally got set up and started the engine. Ran
great. Suddenly there was a huge roar with pieces of bed sheet flying
everywhere. I hit the kill switch but it was too late. It was a mess with the
sheet wound around the prop and into the pulley. Guess the tarp
thing is going to need a bit of refinement.
I set up the wing. Donned the A3, started her up turned and launched. It was the
best reverse I've had. Two steps and I was gone. I love flying at the ocean. The
breeze is perfectly smooth. The beach was clear of people so no problem flying
about anywhere I wanted. I headed down the beach.
Lesson 3- If it isn't summer bring your gloves. Boy it gets cold quickly up
there. Especially in the mist. Oh well. I can take it for an hour. It was great
fun poking around the dunes. Flying over the marsh, shooting approaches and
generally whooping it up. As I ventured along the beach I got waves from
everyone. A little girl grabbed her mother's leg as if I was getting ready to
swoop down and pluck her away. I waved and kicked my feet and pretty soon she
let go so she could return the wave. A jogger ran along and never glanced.
The crew on a passing sailboat gazed up and pointed. I'm sure they were as
intrigued as I was when I first saw one of these machines.
 I flew mostly into the wind up the beach for 20 minutes. When
I turned around I couldn't see Pete or his yellow wing but now I was probably
doing 30 MPH over ground. It didn't take long before I flew past him doing big
lazy S turns. The new wind-sock I made out of orange rip-stop worked
great. I lined up and did a couple approaches to get the hang of judging glide
slope into the wind. The first time I came up a bit short. No problem a little
throttle and I was back into the wild blue. Well I guess Pete has been patient
with me. He's been standing there watching me have all the fun. And I wouldn't
even be flying if he hadn't lent me his cage. Let me see if I can get on the
ground with his cage in one piece. One more go around (boy that last downwind
turn sure take up a lot of space) and set myself up to glide it in. At about 100
feet, off goes the motor and the world goes silent. I really need to try PG. I
love the quiet drifting feeling on that last glide. A little breaks to correct
my glide, and a tiny bit of break for
a flare. I landed about 20 feet short of my spot. I'm happy with that. It was
soft as whipped cream. I turned and dropped that great big pink wing to the
sand. What a fantastic flight.
Pete came over and helped me pack up.When we got back to the car, I pulled out
the tools and a DVM and we diagnosed Pete's problem. 10 minutes with a soldering
iron and he should be all set.On the way home we stopped at the local bar for a
couple of the best beers I've had in weeks. Sitting around yacking about the
flight was almost as much fun as flying. Next time we'll both be up there and it
will be even more of a gas. What a great day.
Lesson 4-This sport is the best!
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