Free Dream Horse by Bonnie Bryant

years, but I suspect it’s just been more like three.”
    “Since that’s exactly how long I’ve owned my two-seater, I think you’re right,” Uncle Michael said. “We just had to wait until you got to be what your mother thought was ‘old enough.’ ”
    He turned the car off the main road, following signs toDunstable Field. The area had a small collection of large, low buildings. A wind sock next to the main building showed a gentle, steady wind from the west. A dozen or so small planes were parked nearby. To the side a long strip of roadway served as the parking area for the gliders. Uncle Michael drove around the main building and off to the side road where his glider waited.
    “There’s always a lot of work to do before we take off,” said Uncle Michael, parking the car.
    “That’s one thing soaring has in common with horseback riding, then,” said Phil. “I think it’s usually about two hours’ worth of work in and around the stable for each hour in the saddle. I don’t mind, though. Anything to do with horses is fun.”
    “That’s the way I feel about gliders,” said Uncle Michael, smiling at Phil.
    The two walked over to the glider. Uncle Michael put out his hand to touch the plane as they neared it. The motion made Phil think of the affectionate touch he gave Teddy every time he was going for a ride. He tried it himself. The glider was made of a lightweight carbon fiber. It was sleek and shiny. Compared with the airplanes behind the main building, the part of the craft that held the pilots was very compact, but the wingspan was several times larger.
    Uncle Michael removed the protective canvas cover and then offered Phil a sponge and a bucket of water.
    “First, we wash,” he announced.
    “Well, there’s one difference between gliding and riding,” said Phil. “I usually give Teddy a quick grooming before we ride, but the really good grooming comes after.” He took the sponge and began wiping one of the glider’s elegant wings. The white surface was so shiny he could see his reflection in it.
    “We want to try to remove anything that would spoil the lift or create drag and slow down the craft while we’re in the air,” Uncle Michael explained, wiping the other wing. “Also, it’s an opportunity to check the airframe to be sure the whole thing is in good condition.”
    They wiped and they dried.
    Uncle Michael then went through a check routine on all of the equipment, including the batteries, radio, instruments, parachutes, controls, a canteen of water, granola bars, and first aid kit.
    “Boy, it’s like we’re going up for days instead of for a few hours,” said Phil.
    “And if you were just going for a five-minute ride, wouldn’t you want your horse to have all his tack, just as you’d want if you were going for a four-hour trail ride?”
    “Check,” Phil said.
    “Ah, you’re getting the language,” Uncle Michael said, smiling.
    “Roger that,” Phil informed him.
    “Now I need to check on the local weather outlook,” said Uncle Michael. He switched on the radio and called the tower. While the tower checked the weather, Uncle Michael told Phil why he needed to know the forecast.
    “Gliders go up and stay up chiefly because of one thing,” he said, “and that’s temperature. The slightest difference—a degree or two of warmth—will create what we call thermals, or patches of rising air. You remember that warm air rises?”
    Phil nodded. He’d learned about that in science class.
    “What a glider pilot wants is to be in the middle of the warm air that’s rising. That gives us what we call lift. In general, what I want to do is to get the plane in an area of lift and take advantage of that by going up in circles in the area. Once I’ve gotten as high as I want—perhaps ten to fifteen thousand feet—then I can go forward. When luck and the weather are with me, I’ll meet up with lots more thermals that will keep me at that height, or, if I do lose some