Gliding: A Lesson in Cloud-Watching

  Ashford, United Kingdom
Saturday, August 4, 2007

I suffer from motion sickness.
 
Ever since I was a little girl, my mom would suffocatingly hold a sick bag to my face during the take off and landing of an airplane.   Too many a time had I sprayed her with the contents of my digestive track for her to take a chance without it.
 
I was one of those kids that would get dizzy by swinging on a park swing for too long, was eventually banned from getting on merry-go-rounds, and whilst traveling by car I was always told to face front and look straight ahead.
 
And with age this hasn't improved.  Like the time in Uruguay when we went fishing with Ed and as soon as I stepped on the boat I knew I was going to ruin it for everyone. Or when we went snorkeling in Mallorca and after 20 minutes I had to swim back because the constant swaying of the water made me dizzy. 
 

Gliders Galore

So when Ed told me we were going gliding in Kent, I was excited at first but soon became distressed.   I suddenly envisioned myself in an enclosed cockpit twisting and dipping in midair while my stomach rolled over and rose up to my esophagus, accompanied by the unpleasant dizziness that always goes hand in hand with the nausea. The fact that the glider lacks an engine was the least of my concerns.  
 
Nonetheless I was still excited and resolved that I should try to control it, not let it get a hold of me, and enjoy the entire experience.   (In the meantime I would go out and buy the

Just out of the Hangar

strongest motion sickness pills available in the pharmaceutical market). 
 
So Saturday came along and we drove down to Ashford with Lucy and David.   We were going to meet John, David's good friend from BT and Ed's current manager.  Apparently John was the culprit for setting up this little aviation escapade for us, to share his passion for flying.  
 
As we reached the airfield and walked towards the hangars where all the gliders were being prepped, none of us could contain our excitement.   Lucy and I giggled together nervously while Ed and David inspected the gliders as if they knew what they were looking at.
 

Ed and the Gliders

The gliders were certainly quite the sight: long and elegant wings which merged together in a slender fuselage, crowned with a rounded cockpit encased with a transparent eye.   I imagined how graceful they must look in the sky, just like free flying condors in the Andes. 
 
That noble image vanished from my head as soon as it was time to pick who went first.   We had already arranged our glider out in the sunny air field behind the powered green and white aircraft everyone called the Tug.  This small plane would be hauling us off the ground and releasing the glider when it reached 2000 ft. Thank god we were flying with an instructor. 
 

Lu and the Glider

We picked Ed to go first as he seemed the most eager to get going. He had a smile stamped on his face all throughout the fitting of his parachute, whilst entering the aircraft, while fastening the seat belts.   As a matter of fact, he was smiling all the way up until he was airborne and disappeared in the sky.  
 

Ed getting fitted

After our cheering died down and the hum of the Tug had gone, all that was left was the sound of crickets and hornets buzzing by.   I took the opportunity to ask John about air-sickness and gliders, to which he assured me there was nothing to worry about.  As he said this, I asked myself if asking an aviator about air-sickness was appropriate: he clearly did not have a queasy stomach as I did or he would've chosen a lighter hobby. 
 

Maverick 2

Half an hour later, Ed landed back in the air field.   David was up next, and after him came Lucy.  When it was my turn, everything had gone so smoothly with the rest, that I was no longer nervous about splattering the acrylic cover of the cockpit with spew; now I was just excited and anxious.   I was helped into the parachute which was quite heavy and uncomfortable, and sat in the front of the glider.  Behind me was Alan, the instructor who had been gliding since 1971.  After John and I made the obvious Iceman-Maverick jokes (i.e "Tower, this is GhostRider requesting a flyby") we were ready to roll. 
 
As the Tug pulled us across the field, I was amazed at how quickly the glider became airborne.   I felt the adrenaline like an IV drip as we rushed upwards into the sky.  At 2000  ft. we were released by the Tug and started flying on our own.   I was too busy taking

Control Panel

pictures of the Kentish countryside to pay any attention on what we were actually doing, which was trying to find a thermal.  Alan explained that thermals are currents of warm air heated by the sun which then rise in columns.  He pointed to a cloud nearby which was swirling upwards and explained how clouds are the best indicators as to where a thermal is.   On virtually cloudless days like today, it was a little tougher.  Pilots seek thermals as a source of lift for the glider.   Alan then explained how he frequently glides in the Pyrenees, and when he does so, a flock of Griffon Vultures (which have a wing span of 10 m) fly close to him in search of thermals as well.   As any bird, they seek these columns of warm air to lessen their wing-flapping and save energy.  

Top Gun with ray bans and all 1

Everything Alan was talking about was beyond interesting, it was fascinating.   But as we were flying in circles searching for a thermal I began to get a little dizzy.  The harsh sun upon us created a greenhouse effect inside the cockpit which didn't really help either.   I opened a little flap which let some air in, but it was too late.  The dizziness and the nausea had taken possession.
 
My immediate plan of action was to say nothing to Alan.   I didn't want him to turn back and land and I didn't want to worry him either.  My plan was to concentrate on dominating and controlling the sickness. 
 
As we soared in the sky as condors in the Andes (that was my happy thought), Alan asked

It´s a bird!

me to take hold of the stick to get a feel of controlling the glider.   I made it go left and right, ascend and descend by turning the nose up or down.   It was amazing how little you actually had to move the controls in order to get the aircraft to move. I leveled the glider when we were flying crooked and turned at Alan's command to jump on a thermal. I made sure the nose was at about horizon level at all times, and watched the altimeter (or whatever it's called). I was having so much fun and was so concentrated on my flying that I eventually forgot about my dizziness.  
 
Soon it was time land and although I was loving it up there, I also wanted to get back to the ground where earth-bound creatures such as ourselves belong.   As we lost altitude and descended upon the airfield fast, I felt my stomach rise up to my esophagus just as I'd predicted.  I was loosing control of the nausea and was afraid I wouldn't make it on time.   Land damnit, land!! 
 

Recuperating

As soon as we were on the ground, we bumpily came to a halt and I was able to get out and breathe fresh air.   I thanked Alan for the ride and walked nonchalantly towards our picnic blanket where I collapsed.  As I lay there breathing in and breathing out I was so ecstatic about the gliding experience that I didn't really have time to sulk about my state.  
 

Countryside

I thought about the different-colored patches of farm lands, lakes and narrow rivers, winding highways, the Eurostar speeding towards France, and away beyond the grayish sea mist, the English Channel.  I remembered the cylinders of hay which were stacked on the fields which from up there looked like tiny fur balls, the thick deep green forests which looked impenetrable, but best of all, was the feeling of nothingness below you; the soaring sense of depending only on the wind and the air for flight.   It was probably the same type of elation that Icarus felt before he turned into the adrenaline junky that flew him too close to the sun. 

Our glider

Eventually the color rushed back to my face and we wrapped up a glorious day in the Kent Gliding Club.   As Ed and I walked back to the hangars hand in hand, I looked up at the sky where a few people were still soaring high in their gliders, and thought about how great it would be to come back and do it all over again. 

Motion sickness and all.