THE HISTORY OF V.A.R.M.S The Annual Diary 1990 - 2009

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attempt to get down first and out of the damned way. The speed builds up and you flatten
out just over the grass and hold it there as the patch approaches. A bit more spoiler, a bit
less, a flurry of small elevator adjustments and the skid finds the mown grass right at the
leading edge of the square...lovely. But, wait, the machine won’t stop, it’s slipping and
sliding along according to the laws of Conservation of Momentum (not to be confused with
the laws concerning the failure to abate a smoky chimney).
There’s nothing you can do, it’s all in the hands of Fate, and it’s with no small relief that
our machine rolls right into the pits, coming to rest amid half a dozen other gliders and
someone’s lunch box. Holding onto the tranny firmly to hide the fact that your hands are
shaking badly, you walk with all the insouciance of someone who meant that to happen all
along, whilst all around people shake their heads with disgust or appreciation.
Compare the foregoing to that last flight of the day... there’s something holding up its hand
to be noticed, Right, dead right in fact.... when you fly at a busy aerotow event, there are
sometimes quite a lot of things clamouring for your attention, and quite often it’s this factor
that leads to a degrading of a flier’s otherwise flawless competence in the landing phase.
So, part of the answer to the original question is that at an aerotow event, such as the one
described, it’s the unaccustomed pressure of events that causes many people, myself
included, to do things that they normally wouldn’t when bringing their machines back to
earth. But even under more normal circumstances, the question is still valid. Why do
pilots sometimes get into such a mess in the landing phase?
Let me tell what I am convinced is one reason: putting off ‘til tomorrow that which should
be done today. To many people the landing is a difficult hurdle, something to be put off as
long as they can, and then got over with as quickly as possible. No two landings are alike,
and indeed if there wasn’t something special about this procedure, people wouldn’t burst
into spontaneous applause when someone pulls off a good one.
So, a pilot gets a model up on the slope, for instance, soars to a great height, stooges
around for half an hour, then lands and reaches for his flask of coffee. He may repeat this
procedure five or six times during the course of the day and then wend his way home filled
with the glow of satisfaction that is the reward of a day well spent. So what, you may ask,
what’s wrong with that? Regard now that same flier when the lift has suddenly died and
the landing, which was previously a leisurely affair, now needs to be performed toot sweet.
As often as not, the result will be a manoeuvre that is significantly degraded from its
predecessors, sometimes leading to a confetti-strewn hillside and some surreptitious
dustpan-and-brush work. The conclusion is obvious; any pilot who flies the same pattern
day in, day out, is going to overwork his sweat glands when presented with unusual
circumstances such as may be found at a busy aerotow event. (Or the sudden
appearance of a low-flying aircraft, or a dense patch of mist flowing unexpectedly up the
hill, or the horn of a maddened bull appearing between his legs...)
To help make things clearer let’s define three types of landing, then you can decide into
which category yours will fit.
1. Controlled crash: This is usually accompanied by some nifty legwork as people
struggle to get out of the way. The approach is often totally unplanned, with the
pilot’s options diminishing throughout the procedure until the inevitable ensues.
2. Adequate Landing: Most fall into this category; it’s safe, it’s geographically correct
(in the same field as the take-off) and has all the style of a water buffalo passing
wind.