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flying! If you didn’t make it to the front row or get the finish you
wanted, fear not; just keep practicing.
On the subject of practice, if you want to improve your flying,
repeat the words you’ve heard again and again. Practice makes perfect,
right? Wrong!
In reality, practice can only produce perfection in limited areas. If
you want to improve your flying, you should
be training rather than practicing.
What is the different between practice and
training? You practice procedure. You train
for performance. There is a huge difference.
For our discussion I will assume you are a
competition flier, but it doesn’t matter if you
compete or not. The only way to improve
your flying skills is with training.
Procedure is, by nature, task oriented.
Tasks are often monotonous. They start with
building and/or assembling parts in a specific
sequence, with the final goal of producing an
airplane that is capable of flying and
maneuvering well.
Some tasks are filling your fuel tank with
enough fuel, priming your engine, flipping the
propeller, attaching lines, using the safety
thong, and cleaning lines. These are things
you can practice, commit to memory, and
ultimately achieve perfection when doing.
They are the details. If you have not practiced
the details, things can and probably will go
wrong.
Flying is a different story. The only way to
improve your flying is to train. Training
begins with launching the airplane and
progresses with how it is launched and everything that happens until
the flight is finished.
If you have ever wondered what the champions in any sport do that
others don’t, it’s simple: they train in all conditions. If you will indulge
my digression, I will use Combat flying for illustration purposes.
When I was a novice in Combat, one of the first things I realized is
that I would never be successful if I couldn’t fly my airplane without
looking at it. You need to watch your opponent. At first the solution
seemed simple; practice flying my model without looking at it.
The problem was that I practiced and didn’t train. All my flying
Howard Yamagata shows good form while launching Larry Wong’s original-design
Seraphim. Power is a PA .40 Lite engine with a Smith/Werwage tuned pipe.
Spring has sprung, the grass has ris’, do you know where your handle is?
[[email protected]]
Control Line Aerobatics P.T. Granderson
World traveler, international competitor, and perennial innovator
Kaz Minato with his original-design BM Comp, molded from
composite materials.
World-class full-scale glider pilot Peter Deane shows his CL
Aerobatics models: a 1959 Ares powered by an O.S. .25 (L) and a
slightly modified Randy Smith Vector with a Magnum .36 on a
tuned pipe.
IN MY FIRST column almost a year ago, you read that sometimes I
march to the beat of a different drummer. It’s just my way of trying to
make sense of all the confusion. Get ready; here comes that drummer.
Although I’m writing this column in February, it will be April by the
time you read it. It’s time to grab your airplane off the front row and go
05sig5.QXD 3/23/07 9:49 AM Page 151
was in a controlled environment.
The airplane was launched by one of my
flying buddies who knew how to launch.
Then, even though I would try not to look at
the airplane, I would constantly sneak a peek
or actually concentrate on where it was.
There were also visual references, which
indicated wind direction, altitude, speed, and
turning capability. The simple fact is I could
always see the airplane if I got in trouble.
After practicing the procedure of flying
without looking, my flying did not improve
significantly. After several less-than-stellar
performances in competition I had an
epiphany; the only way to fly the airplane
without looking at it is if it cannot be seen.
Night flying was the answer.
I enlisted the aid of some friends who had
no experience launching an airplane. You
might think such activities would be
dangerous, and you are right, but we were
young and possessed none of the wisdom age
brings.
There were many interesting flights,
crashes, and close calls. The ultimate result is
that I did learn to fly the airplane in a variety
of conditions, including terrible launches,
calm, wind, and even in the rain, without
looking.
That was training because every flight
was different. There was no way to predict
how the flights or maneuvers would
progress.
All flights have a high degree of
unpredictability. With training we get better
at shaping the unpredictable conditions into
something we want.
Ask yourself how many flights you make
that are exactly the same. If you answered
more than zero, that is rare. I have made at
least 30,000 flights in the 52 years I’ve been
flying and haven’t had the experience of two
identical ones!
Some readers may notice that I reference
our passion of flying as a sport. While the
debate of hobby vs. sport rages on, I have
always considered this a sport.
The difference between a hobby and a
sport is the element of training to improve
performance. With a hobby you can practice
procedure to the point of perfection. In a
sport you train to achieve a high level of
performance. It is rare, if not impossible, to
achieve perfection.
Now that we have established the
difference between practice and training, we
need help so we can improve. Enter coaches
and trainers. What is the difference?
A coach can draw a diagram of a perfect
maneuver and draw a diagram highlighting
the imperfections of your performance. A
coach knows the maneuvers and the
procedures and can give you a game plan to
avoid missing the critical details that could
affect your ability to successfully complete
a flight in competition or sport-flying.
A trainer, on the other hand, watches
your performance and designs and
prescribes training exercises to help you
improve. I have had a couple good trainers.
Five years ago, after flying CL
Aerobatics competitively for several years, I
had the procedure of building, finishing,
engine starting, etc. developed to a high
level. The problem was flight performance.
It seemed like I was permanently stuck 30-
40 points behind the leaders. Although there
had been plenty of detailed coaching,
nothing seemed to help.
In October there is a huge contest in
Central California: the Golden State
Championships. There I found myself 40
points behind the leader once again. Out of
desperation I approached Dave Fitzgerald
and asked him if he could watch a couple
flights and tell me where to find another 30
points in my pattern.
As simple as it sounds, that question was
pivotal in improving my performance. Dave
watched my two “practice flights.” He did
not draw any diagrams nor did he go into
great detail of what I was doing on every
maneuver.
“You need to concentrate on the
placement of your maneuvers; you’re
walking (shifting) your round loops and your
squares don’t begin and end in the same
place,” he said. “You did it on both flights.
You should find a reference point in the circle
to start and end your maneuvers and stick
with it. Then he walked away.
What kind of coaching was that? Where
were the diagrams? I needed lots of details!
My first thought was that he didn’t help me
much.
On my official flight I made it a point to
pick out a specific visual reference from
which to begin and end my maneuvers. The
result was a 31-point score improvement,
even though the spot I picked was not ideal in
relation to wind conditions. Dave prescribed
an effective training procedure.
Another good trainer is my good friend
Bill Rutherford. Five or six years ago at the
Vintage Stunt Championships in Tucson,
Arizona, Bill had his video camera focused
on quite a few flights, one of which was
mine. When my score was posted, he noticed
my disgust and asked if I had time to look at
some of his videos. Some mutual friends had
a VCR in their motor home and volunteered
to let us use it.
Bill cued up the video of my flight and
took out a stopwatch.
“Let’s time your Square Eight,” he said.
“Now let’s look at a good Square Eight; how
about John Simpson’s?”
He timed John’s maneuver. The first thing
I noticed was that John’s maneuver looked
much better than mine, with clear definition
and shape.
“According to the stopwatch it took John
twice as long as you to complete the
maneuver,” said Bill.
The only additional thing Bill said was,
“Slow down and give the maneuvers time to
develop.” Again, there were no diagrams, no
detailed analysis of each maneuver. There
was a simple prescription of a training
exercise.
Training does require a different
approach. When it comes to flight
performance, if you keep “practicing” the
things you’ve been doing, you will get the
results you’ve always gotten.
You have had all winter to practice. Now it’s
time for training. Go flying. Use as many fuel
cans as you can.
When the wind comes up, start your
engine and take off. You’re going to have
some close calls and might even crash, but
you will be programming your brain to find
performance in all kinds of conditions.
Maybe if you quit practicing and start training
now, you will be performing at a much higher
level by the end of the season.
In the next column I’ll write about systems
and setups. Get ready for a return of the
different drummer!
Until then, listen to your coach and don’t
forget to clean your lines. Listen to your
trainer and program yourself for the best
flights you’ve ever had.
Rely on the fact that something is
working to validate the fact that