Hmm. I might see if I can add 50K words to the WIP in a month. I don't think that counts as an "official" Na-No, but it'd be a good motivational tool.

I like that thinking.

Hell, I should do NaNo just to finish this short story.

Oh noes! You know, I never actually do NaNo. I just sign up and then feel guilty for a month.

I did it once before and I was tooling right along until I got derailed by Thanksgiving. This year we might not have a Thanksgiving so that would work out great.

I kind of can't believe I'm going to try this in a month already full of moving and Thanksgiving and normal workload, but I figure I'm always busy, so if I can make myself write in the middle of that madness it'd be a boost for me the rest of the time.

Possibly troll logic.

You know, I never actually do NaNo. I just sign up and then feel guilty for a month.

Same here.

Oddly enough, I may use it to finish a long fanfic I've had in the planning stages for years (but then, given that it's a WWII-era prequel to a story set in 1999, it sort of counts as an original novel, I suppose).

I've been feeling nostalgic about flying and instructing lately, and remembered that I typed up one of my stories last year, got Typo Boy to beta it -- and then forgot to post it. So here it is.

FLIGHT REVIEW

Every two years, pilots are required to log a flight review with an instructor, to include a review of the Federal aviation regulations (with emphasis on any changes in the past two years), an evaluation of the pilot's planning skills, his flying skills, and his situational awareness. It's not meant to be a repeat of his flight test, more of a brush-up and safety review.

Leonard was one of our most experienced local sailplane pilots. He had logged thousands of hours more flying time and much more cross-country experience than I had -- or was likely to acquire in the next decade. So when he scheduled his flight review with me I tried to come up with a plan that would make the flight something that might be useful and different for him, and not just a perfunctory chore.

One of the mandatory parts of the review is emergency procedures, and the most common emergency in the sailplane instructor's bag of tricks is the low altitude simulated tow-rope break. It is so common that it is pretty much taken for granted that one will be pulled in every review, and the normal recovery is a quick 180° turn back to the runway. The seats in most two-seat sailplanes are tandem, and one of the things an instructor learns to watch for is the relaxation of the shoulders of the pilot in front of him as the towplane and sailplane climb away through 200 feet of altitude and the pilot says to himself, "Whew, not this flight, that means it'll be the next one." That, of course, is when the instructor pulls the tow release, announces "Rope break!" and chortles with evil glee while the pilot makes his landing. The lesson, of course, is "ALWAYS be prepared for the rope to break," and the instructor gets to see how the pilot handles a critical low-altitude turn and the tricky balancing act of a downwind landing.

I didn't think that would be a useful test for an old hand like Leonard, so I arranged something a little different with our tow pilot. We made our take-off, and the tow pilot managed the climb during our first circuit of the airport such that by the time we were back over the upwind end of the runway we were still fairly low -- about 400 feet, instead of the normal 1000. This meant that we had no runway in front of us to land on, just the neighboring pastures and wheat fields, and we were too high to simply turn around and land downwind. We had several options in the event of a rope break, just none that were quick or clear or straightforward.

I pulled the release. Leonard didn't flinch or swear the way some pilots do, and as he swiveled his head re-checking for traffic I could see a wry little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Leonard made an initial turn to the right while he quickly went through the emergency landing checklist, and told me his plan was to reverse his turn, going back to the left around three-quarters of a circle to get us lined up with the runway for a downwind landing, with lots of spoiler and a slip on final to bleed off our excess altitude, using most of the length of the runway to set us up for an easy turnaround to make our next takeoff.

That wasn't the plan I had in mind -- I would have continued the right turn all the way around to make a modified final approach for a mid-field landing into the wind -- but it would work and was safe enough given the conditions, so I said nothing.

As we turned to the left, Leonard had to modify his plan. "The other towplane is launching with a sailplane, we can't use the runway. We'll land in the grass next to it." We continued the turn, and I noticed that we were in lift. By the time we had come around in line with the grass parallel to the runway, there were further complications. "I see traffic landing on the east grass...Tow Two is safely past below us...there's ground traffic on the west grass...we've still (continued...)

( continues...) got extra altitude, instead of using spoilers I'm going to keep turning, do a three-sixty, that'll give 'em some time to clear the landing area." Okay, unexpected, but still safe. I said nothing. This was turning into a more challenging test than I had planned, but that was all to the good.

As we kept turning we were still in lift, still climbing despite maintaining the extra speed required when preparing to land a sailplane. I'm sure Leonard had noticed it earlier, just as I had, but now he commented on it, "Hah, we're two hundred feet above release. Continuing the turn, let's see how traffic is doing down there...still jammed up, traffic in the grass, glider turning final for the runway, let's do another turn." Thirty seconds later: "Still climbing...this is good lift...Tow One has landed...we're high enough to make the standard traffic pattern now...there's Tow Two, coming our way, still below. Let's do another turn...."

As we climbed above the traffic pattern Leonard retracted the landing gear and slowed to thermalling speed. We were going up at seven hundred feet per minute, and other sailplanes came cruising in to join us in the thermal we were marking.

The "simulated rope break" that should have been a five minute flight turned into an hour's excursion half-way to Pikes Peak and back, with three climbs to six thousand feet above the ground and a lesson for me in cross-country soaring techniques that money couldn't have bought.

As we did the post-flight discussion and paperwork, I ribbed him a bit. "Leonard, I dunno if I can sign off on you -- we never completed our emergency landing!"

"Sure we did -- it just took longer than you thought it would."

I had to laugh. "That really wasn't the result I was looking for. I've never seen anyone thermal out of a rope break before. But you didn't hesitate to execute your plan, you kept your options open, your situational awareness was good and you adapted to the changing conditions, you flew safe, and you stayed safe for others. I can't ask for more...it's just, well, tell me you won't make that your default plan for a rope break."

Leonard laughed with me. "I half expected you to pull the spoilers and announce 'simulated sink' and force us to land."

I tried to look stern. "I thought about it," I admitted. My grin came back. "For about two seconds. But I just couldn't bring myself to ditch a thermal that nice. Bad instructor. No cookie."

• *********

Okay, the "no cookie" line is fiction but the rest is really how it happened. I just felt the story needed a better finish. Maybe that line is too cute, but the memory of that flight still makes me smile, and I want the reader to do the same. I can't decide if a non-pilot would come away feeling the same without the little joke. Suggestions for further polishing are welcome.

I have a picture of "Leonard" in his single-seat sailplane "ZL" at [link]

That's a great story.

I think it could stand without the joke. I think it gives the right feeling.

It's already evocative, but if you wanted to take it a little further, you could add a bit of detail once you're in the thermal..how does it feel, how does it look, what does it make you think about?...before the solid punch of the resulting flight.