Lessons Learned
In a Four Decade Old Classic
There is certain elegance to the Schweizer SGS 2-33. Pitch sensitivity is as deftly balanced as roll is ponderous. The panel makes a Cessna 150 look complicated, sporting only an airspeed indicator, compass, altimeter and variometer. Also missing are complications brought on by flaps, throttle, prop and engine. So what is there to be learned from this simplest of aircraft and why, after more than 40 years is it still one of the mainstays of glider training in both commercial operations and glider clubs across the country. For years I have heard it repeated endlessly by glider pilots that soaring will make you a better pilot. Better than what, I wondered, but never really gave the issue much thought. Finally, after some years of procrastination, I found myself under the influence of the Merlin Soaring Association and the direction of Lukas, a CFI-G who was to initiate me into the magic of flying, sans engine. Our aircraft, the ubiquitous SGS-2-33. After some 40 flights and a dozen or so hours in this fabric and metal hybrid, it is time to reflect on the lessons this classic aircraft and the soaring community have to teach a pilot with more than 40 years in the cockpit, sitting comfortably behind turning propellers and humming engines.
Even before the soaring begins, while still on tow behind the aging Cessna C-188 tow plane, I begin re-learning what rudders are all about. The wings on the 2-33 are long compared to most powered aircraft and the ailerons are far out on the wings. Lower an aileron even a little and that very long arm from the center of the glider to the aileron produces significant adverse yaw and screams for rudders input. It takes a few flights to tame the adverse yaw, even when expecting it. Soon I must concede that knowing about adverse yaw is not the same as really experiencing it with a 51 foot wingspan. Lesson noted and appreciated, but can there really be much more? Following the tow plane falls into place later rather than sooner for me, but eventually I follow it with little fuss. Forget about formation flying. This is more like instrument work. Put the tow plane on the horizon, and keep it in place with a series of very small corrections. It is like flying with a heads up instrument display and a great view. On my very next IFR flight I found my control inputs smoother and my coordination better. Lesson two for the venerable 2-33.
All landings should be routine, but glider landings, at least at first, raise the pucker factor a bit. If you like long, flat airline style approaches where you drag the aircraft the last several miles to the runway, you will need to learn new pattern behavior. The 2-33 teaches me to pay attention to the glide path, always know where my touch down point will be and to slip smoothly if caution and full spoilers leave me a little high on final approach. I learn that every power off landing, formerly known as an emergency landing, is routine. Planning and close attention to the airspeed and glide path will put you in the intended landing spot every time. Lesson three and counting. It sounds like the start of a bad joke, but how many people does it take to fly a glider? No joke, at least at first it takes four. Pilot/student, instructor, tow pilot and ideally a volunteer to hook up the tow rope, run the wing on takeoff and help tow the glider back into takeoff position after landing. Glider flying is a team activity. It is about having good friends around while you wait for your next turn in the aircraft, work at readying the gliders for flight and securing them at the end of a long day of soaring. It is about new friends, flying stories and learning new lessons. It’s about the pure joy of flight. And that is really the lesson the aging 2-33 has to teach. Next to the sleek glass ships the 2-33 looks a little tired and worn but she is still ready and waiting for the next generation of sailplane pilots. If you have the chance to fly the 2-33, listen carefully, there is a lot to be learned. Fly safe.
By Michael.A.Likave