I'll Have to Summon a Small Army

Eight miles north of Mt. Mansfield I could still safely reach Morrisville airport, but I was determined to continue to Belvidere. There would be lift along a south-facing ridge. There was lift, but it was only bubbles. I couldn’t gain more than a hundred feet. At this point, I spied a glider coming out of Belvidere very low. It was Doug. From my position I could reach Belvidere, but I would be even lower coming out. About this time Mike Newman announced that he had finally climbed high enough to make Morrisville and that he planned an aerotow retrieve. Doug passed over me, much higher. (You may be wondering how this happened. If so, please ask Doug. If I knew how he did that I wouldn’t be writing this article and Mike Newman wouldn’t have taken the associated photos.) Doug called on the radio and suggested I go back to his location, where he was climbing at a solid two knots. I went back. I could see Doug climbing higher and higher, but down where I was there was only sink.

Now I was in trouble. I had lost my safety margin on Morrisville airport. In fact, I was below a zero glide. If I didn’t find some lift soon, I would be making a field landing. There were several huge dirt fields along the river, but a retrieve would be messy. I spied a hay field near the town of Hyde Park. It was half a mile long, more than enough even with an approach over a high, wooded hill. The final third of the field was a different color, indicating a possible ditch, but I still had twice as much field as needed. Any glider pilot who couldn’t land in this field should lose his license. I started a tight downwind about 600 feet over the field and 400 feet over the trees. The landing was perfect and I rolled to a stop in less than 200 feet. The field looked like a lawn, not a hay field.

A large, exceptionally well restored farmhouse at the north end of the field turned out to be a bed and breakfast catering to fly fishermen and romantic couples. The innkeeper gave me the run of the place and the use of a telephone. She handed me a glossy brochure, “Ten Bends in the River,” and told me it contained road directions. Bill McGinty answered the phone at Sugarbush Soaring. I told Bill that my field was perfect and that only one person would be needed for the retrieve. Indeed, the field was so perfect that I hadn’t even bothered to look over the glider after landing. And I hadn’t worried at all when the innkeeper had told me that she didn’t want me driving on the field. There should be no problem rolling the glider 100 yards to the nearby road. Bill assured me he would find someone to drive my car and trailer up to Hyde Park. I walked back to the glider to prepare it for the retrieve. I started by seeing how hard the glider would be to roll. It wouldn’t budge. This made no sense. The field was dry and there weren’t any holes or ruts. Then I saw the flat tire….

With only two people the easiest solution would be to drive the trailer to the glider, so I walked back to the house to see if I could get permission, considering this new emergency. If I couldn’t get permission I would need a small army to dissemble the glider in place and carry out the pieces. The innkeeper told me it would be absolutely impossible to drive on the field. She explained that she personally didn’t care, but she had leased the field to a farmer who was still mad that a balloon had landed and done extensive damage. She had promised to keep vehicles off his crop. She needed the farmer, otherwise she would be stuck maintaining all the fields surrounding the inn. I couldn’t argue with her, she had been so helpful and nice and her place was so beautiful. I asked her, “May I make another telephone call? I’ll have to summon a small army.”

This time, Bill McGinty informed me that Buddy Duncan was already on the way. I could see a problem developing; it was Sunday afternoon and club members were leaving. Fortunately, Mike Newman had returned from Morrisville by aerotow retrieve and was nearby. Mike promised to organize extra volunteers who would fly up to Morrisville airport. Buddy and I were to drive back to pick them up. I began the long, familiar wait for a white car and trailer. To pass the time, I chatted with the innkeeper. She was amazed that I had so little difficulty raising my army. I explained that glider pilots all reckoned to land out sooner or later, assuming they hadn’t already done so. She was still amazed. Perhaps I should have explained that retrieving downed glider pilots was like rescuing military aviators shot down in combat….

The white car and trailer soon arrived, full of people and a dog. Buddy had received word by cell phone and had intercepted Doug Jacobs, Mike Newman and Ron Webster at Morrisville airport, who had flown up in Doug’s Cessna. All five of us made quick work of the retrieve. It took less than ten minutes to disassemble the glider in place and carry the pieces to the trailer, which was parked on a nearby road. I drove back to Morrisville airport and dropped all of them off. I had plenty of time to consider my mistakes as I drove home alone.

One of the benefits of flying at Sugarbush Soaring is the ready availability of retrieve crew. If you fly out of our field a small army will be available, should it be necessary. Next time I hope to be a soldier and not a pilot.

Tony Lauck

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