Pilots who fly in an airplane-only environment miss out on the benefits that this first-hand experience provides. Armed only with the crudest of resources--notes in an airport-directory listing, and knowing the right-of-way regulations--the absence of this experience is a liability for everyone in the traffic pattern of airports used by a more diverse population.
Those of us who flew charters and sightseeing flights and gave flight instruction at a coastal airport with a seasonally active glider business operating on the field got used to coordinating our movements with the very skilled and neighborly glider and towplane pilots. Watching out for the other guy and observing right-of-way rules constituted an almost seamless activity, rarely requiring any special maneuvering.
The glider operation was based between the state highway that paralleled the main Runway 4/22 and that runway; the gliders were almost always launched from 4/22, even when other aircraft were using the alternate runway, and would usually land in the grass alongside Runway 4/22. This allowed them to roll directly up to their ramp area for the next ride.
While the gliders were up soaring, their frequent position announcements--giving both their distance from the airport and their current altitude--helped us spot their long-winged silhouettes against the sky, the mountains, or the ocean. This was one airport that truly needed that symbol of a sailplane that appears on aeronautical sectional charts next to the airport symbol. Of course that symbol gave no clue to some of the other air traffic in the vicinity. Training aircraft were many and active. Bizjets covered the main ramp in spring and summer. Commuter airliners and private users come and go.
Only once in the years of participating in this organized chaos do I recall having to make any truly special adjustments to allow a glider his right of way for landing. A fog was moving in quickly from the ocean. The powered airplanes slowed up as much as we could, simultaneously descending to remain visual with the field, until the glider pilot informed us that he had spiraled down from on high and was safely off. Everyone else made it in after the glider, but it was close.
As you fraternize with your aerial counterparts, familiarizing yourself with such details as the specifications for their aircraft might pay dividends. Your Cessna 152 trainer, with its 33-foot, four-inch wingspan, is stubby next to a high-aspect-ratio aircraft such as a Schleicher Condor 4 sailplane, with its 18-meter (59.2-foot) wingspan. Operating near such a creature while moving on the airport's surface will take adjustment. Glance inside the cockpit. Someone else's communications capabilities may be limited, making visual lookout even more important than usual--especially when you research an airport and learn that no-radio aircraft are likely to be in the mix.
Sometimes they are the mix. On October 8, 2006, a Burkhart Grob G103 glider was landing at a private residential airstrip in Lake Village, Indiana, on the 2,480 by 150-foot grass runway 36L. A Waco UPF7 biplane was preparing to take off in the opposite direction (Runway 18R). Neither aircraft had a radio, reported the National Transportation Safety Board's online accident summary. "According to the glider pilot, he saw the Waco taxiing on the runway while he was in the traffic pattern to land. He reported that he was not aware that the Waco was taking off until he saw the airplane during his landing roll. The glider pilot reported he tried to avoid the collision, but due to his reduced airspeed 'the maneuver was ineffective.'
"The pilot of the Waco reported that he did not see the glider and that the airplanes collided when he was approximately 300 feet into his takeoff roll. The outboard four feet of the glider's right wing was severed during the collision and the lower right wing of the Waco sustained minor damage." Probable cause, assigned to the Waco pilot, was "inadequate visual lookout." Another factor "was that neither airplane was equipped with communications equipment." Notes included on the airport's Web site and in directories mention soaring and ultralight activity.
Even if you do not typically fly in such mixed aeronautical company, your checkride or a cross-country flight could flesh out questions about aerial coexistence. Reviewing the symbols on a sectional chart for a proposed destination might probe your knowledge of right of way. While flying the pattern at a nontowered airport, the position of another airplane at a lower altitude or on final approach, or the chance arrival in the area of a helicopter, could require you to assess the situation. (The helicopter "must avoid the flow of fixed-wing aircraft" according to the federal aviation regulations. But do keep an eye on it all the same.)
Another issue: Gliders or airplanes may perform aerobatics or maneuvers in the vicinity of their bases, often in so-called boxes designated for that purpose. Notams may inform you of that activity, but perhaps not. There may also be modifications of airport procedures to accommodate such nearby flying. Either way, take care.
On December 28, 2003, a Piper J-3 Cub collided with a Schleicher ASK-21 glider performing a loop near the Pleasant Valley Airport in Peoria, Arizona, killing the four persons aboard the two aircraft. The NTSB online summary included witness accounts: "During the on-scene investigation on December 29, witnesses familiar with powered airplane and glider operations near the accident airport, related...that the Piper departed Runway 5L, made a climbing left turn, and leveled off at pattern altitude, or about 600 feet agl. The witnesses said that the left turn continued until the airplane was on a southwesterly heading, consistent with a left downwind approach for a landing on Runway 5L.
"Concurrently, the Schleicher glider was performing aerobatic maneuvers in an area located to the north of the Pleasant Valley Airport, within an area known to local pilots as the 'aerobatic box,' which measures 1 kilometer square, and extends from the surface up to 6,600 feet msl (5,000 feet agl). The southern edge of the aerobatic box was located about 1,490 feet north of the centerline of Runway 5L at the Pleasant Valley Airport.
"Witnesses reported to the NTSB that as the Schleicher glider was performing a loop, the glider climbed to an altitude of about 800 feet agl, above the path of the southbound Piper. The witnesses said that as the Schleicher glider reached the top of the loop, the nose lowered, eventually pointing straight down. As the glider began to recover from the maneuver, about 600 feet agl, the left wing of the oncoming Piper struck the tail of the Schleicher glider between the empennage and the main fuselage, severing the empennage of the glider. The witnesses said that during the collision, a large portion of the left outboard wing of the Piper separated."
The aerobatic box north of the airport was authorized by the FAA for use by the airport's flying school, and was marked on the desert floor. This was one reason that the probable cause issued by NTSB included these components: "The inadequate visual lookout by the pilots of both aircraft, which resulted in their failure to see and avoid each other's aircraft and a subsequent midair collision. A factor associated with the accident was the airplane pilot's failure to determine that the aerobatic box was in use by the glider prior to his entry into the aerobatic box."
Note that the Cub took off from Runway 5L and turned left toward the aerobatic box. A factor discussed in the report concerned ambiguity that then existed in the procedures for takeoffs from Runway 5L. "According to the Southwestern Airport/Facilities Directory, aircraft departing from Runway 5L, the same runway that was used by the departing Piper, are instructed to fly a right-hand traffic pattern." However there was a catch: During review of an aerial photograph of the Pleasant Valley Airport dated September 30, 2003, "it was discovered that the airport's segmented circle, located in the center of the airport, adjacent to the intersection of Runways 5L and 23, depicts a left-hand traffic pattern when departing from Runway 5L."
When mingling with your new glider-pilot friends, might be worth asking how they and their tow planes would maneuver in emergencies, as when a tow rope breaks. If that happens you may have to make some quick decisions while getting out of the way. Knowing what's likely to happen next will help.
So go ahead and mix it up with the diverse users of the airports you visit. But go beyond the basics to understand who these other pilots are and what they're doing. Not only will it be vastly educational, but also your efforts will make flying safer for you--and for them.
Dan Namowitz is an aviation writer and flight instructor. A pilot since 1985 and an instructor since 1990, he resides in Maine.