The Seniors National Championships

Singing in the grid. Ron and Thea Clarke shading themselves at the seniors.

The Seniors is a six day contest held at Seminole Lakes Gliderport near Orlando every March. It got its name because the many retired glider pilots who winter in Florida weren't satisfied just to enjoy casual soaring. Of course they had to prove who was fastest. What started out over twenty years ago as an informal contest, morphed into one of soaring's most competitive races as more and more top pilots were drawn to it. Although the minimum age allowed is 55, there are more applicants than the airport can accommodate, and the organizers have to limit the number of pilots to 50. Pilots came from as far away Canada, New England, Texas and California. I was not able to attend last year, my first year of eligibility I might proudly add, but this year I was Florida bound as one of the most junior Seniors.

A stubborn stationary front that hung over the state was a problem for us the whole week of the contest. It would drift a little south, then north again, etc. making forecasting (and the soaring too) very difficult for the expert wx guesser and FL resident, Harry Senn. With forecasting all but impossible, the daily procedure was to grid ships at 11 a.m., launch two sniffers around noon and if they could stick at 2500 AGL, launch the whole fleet. Then Charlie Spratt, the contest czar, would announce the task based on how well (or not) we were doing. As soon as a couple guys got through 3300 AGL, he would open the gate and everyone would ooze out on course. I would have to say Charlie was single-handedly responsible for us getting in five contest days out of a possible six. Several days looked impossible, only to turn out slightly better than that. On the morning of the last day, Ron and I had our cars packed and gliders prepared for the long trip home. But at the pilots' meeting Charlie commanded everyone to grid by 11. You probably could have heard the groans here in Indy if you'd been listening.

Based on the SeeYou flight analysis software, the average lift was less than 200 fpm on every day but one, and that day it was 258 fpm. The tasks ranged in distance from 53 miles to 170 miles. The most challenging task came on the last day. Charlie called a 120 mile assigned task into a sky that produced average lift of only 128 fpm and cloud bases between 3200 and 3400 AGL. Incredibly, about one-half the geezers made it around. I'm just not old enough I guess, because I landed 20 miles short. With George Moffat I might add. Part of what made the last day so challenging was mental: the prior day looked better at the start, but 47 out 50 contestants landed out! So we were scratching our heads as to why Charlie would call a 120 mile task. But like sheep, off we went at 3000 feet in big glider fur balls. About half made it back, including ZA.

I had many rewarding experiences, but one that sticks in my mind is circling at the top of a gaggle with four gliders at exactly the same altitude, spaced equidistantly in the circle, all flying exactly the same speed (about 45 knots). Although I was highly focused, I was confident knowing that everyone was perfectly qualified to be in that situation. It was a thrill to fly with soaring pilots of that caliber. Another indelible memory is the beautiful fragrance of orange blossoms. The trees were in bloom all over central Florida and on the ground and in the air it was like being in one big florist shop. I was thermalling over an orange grove near Avon Park at about 3000 feet and the fragrance was filled my cockpit.

This event was significant in several respects: the fleet was outstanding (32 of the gliders were latest generation - ASW 26/27,/28, Ventus 2, Discus 2, LS8, etc), the talent level was high (Striedeck, Moffat, Butler, Garner, Knauff, etc) and technology ruled. It is now taken for granted that everyone knows how to load tasks, download traces and generally understand digital soaring. After landing, pilots drop compact flash cards or floppy disks or GPS NAVs in a cardboard box for the scorer. When he's finished downloading your flight data, he puts all the cards, disks or GPS NAVs on top of a nearby refrigerator for pickup. There might be $20,000 worth of technology laying around, but we're an honest bunch. The scorer simply downloads the data into an automated scoring program and it instantly updates the day's results These were taped to the window for all to hoot or moan over, long before all of the flights were in.