News and Events
Mojave Desert High
By Arch Horner '47
In retirement, one alumnus finally fulfills his dream of motorless flight.
On September 27, 2008, my Swiss friend, Bernhard, and I released at 2000 feet agl (above ground level) from our tow plane and steered our glider towards invisible thermals that we hoped would lift us high enough to fly comfortably over the desert floor below. Fortunately, we found lift and soon we were cruising over the Mojave Desert at 11,000 feet agl. Our flight was uneventful but quite memorable as we flew from Victorville to Mount Baldy to El Mirage Dry Lake—all without power other than what we extracted from the air itself. The airspace in which we flew was adjacent to that of Edwards Air Force Base, a fact that gave added luster to our venture. After a delightful hour of effortless flight, Bernhard and I descended to earth. Our spirits soared.
From the personal viewpoint of an 84-year-old retiree, the flight was even more remarkable, as I had now completed well over 700 flights since I took up soaring 18 years ago. I completed my first solo flight at the age of 67 after joining a soaring group in Anaheim, CA, and I have been an enthusiast ever since. My lengthiest solo flight lasted five hours and 40 minutes. On many other flights, though, I was back on the ground almost as fast as the towplane that left me off at 2,000 feet agl!
My interest in soaring dates back to watching the buzzards soar above Maryland's Caroline County when I was 10 years old. Later I was assigned to a glider group in France during World War II—again as an observer, not as a flyer. I helped others load up and fly off. Not once did I get a flight.
Years passed. The interest remained latent. Through a piece of luck I got my first glider flight at age 66.
My German-born granddaughter was four when her parents returned to the United States. As the family searched for a German-speaking community where she could keep up her language skills, we came across the Phoenix Club Soaring Group. Its parent, the Phoenix Club, is one of the country's largest German-American organizations. While my granddaughter practiced her German, I took to the skies.
In the ensuing years, soaring has been my number one activity but now the loop is closing and it's time to taper off. The pleasure is there along with the camaraderie that the sport generates; it's simply getting more and more difficult to get in and out of the glider!
I take leave of the sport with great memories—many of which are unexpected byproducts of the flights themselves:
- The thrill of 1,000 feet per minute lift and the corresponding despair during a 1,000 feet per minute sink.
- Clearing a barbed wire fence by what seemed like micro-inches during a difficult landing with extremely strong headwinds.
- Dusting the snow off Mount Baldy.
- Watching "the other guy" turn blue in the Edwards high altitude test chamber and hoping you're not doing the same.
- Flying in formation with an unconcerned red-tailed hawk. He knows he can outfly us.
- Attempting to read a full-page spread of the Los Angeles Times at 8,000 feet as it circles opposite us in our thermal.
- The ride back from the 100° heat of the desert and the anticipation of a cool draft at the Bierstube.
Fortunately, the Bierstube is local in Anaheim. Life does not end, even if I'm grounded.
Arch Horner '47, a former chemistry major who managed various laboratories for GE and British Petroleum, has lived out west since 1960. In addition to soaring, Horner enjoys a second hobby—designing and building (but not playing) mountain dulcimers.