Control Line Aerobatics
P.T. Granderson [[email protected]]
Spring has sprung, the grass has ris', do you know where your handle is?
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 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 difference 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 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. I 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 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 clearer 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 something is working. MA
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
