Learnin' to Fly

FINALLY...

2007-05-14T01:51:00.000-04:00

So I finally got the opportunity to go flying...and the the opportunity for another, even better trip. After taking 2 finals on Friday, I called up D to see if he'd be up for some evening flying. He definitely wanted to, but a glance at the weather showed that some very isolated t-storms *might* be headed our way. I suggested we have dinner near the airport and then check it out afterwards. After some tasty burgers at Five Guys, we could see some cells off in the distance (east and west) but the sky was clear and shaping up for a gorgeous sunset. Let's go flying.

We hit the airport, checked the official weather, scheduled and dispatched the flight, and then did the world's quickest preflight (we split it - don't worry, not shirking PIC responsibilites here; Dwight is a an A+P and I did a final walk around to double check his work). We fired her up and told tower we'd like to stay in the pattern. I knew we'd only have about half an hour because I'm not night current at the moment.

We taxied to 2 (there was a cat roaming around in the grass, which we reported to tower) and took an intersection departure at Foxtrot. Runup - everything's good. Taxi on, 10 degrees flaps, full power and...we're flying. It was one of the smoothest takeoffs I can ever remember (the Cherokee either rotates super smoothly or sort of "jumps" off the pavement), and we started around the pattern. Coming back in for the runway, everything was looking good, and I put her down with a perfect squeak 500 feet down the runway. We were off again in another 1000. As a matter of fact, all four landings I did were perfect squeakers in less than 1000 feet. I'd never done anything like that before. On the last one, I savored the roll out, and taxied off where we had begun at Foxtrot. Perfect flight:

Hobbs: .5 (only .3 on the tach!)
Landings: 4

Today, fellow senior Dan and I had the idea of flying to Myrtle Beach on Tuesday for a day of sun and fun to celebrate our completion at Davidson. I've been to KCRE once before (Nov. 8) on my long cross country as a student. This time, though, I'm taking a friend, we'll be leaving first thing in the morning, spending a day lounding on the beach, and then returning in the afternoon/evening. Just as the fates would have it, the plane was avaialble all day, and the weather is looking great (little windy, but it should be down the runway at Concord and not much of a factor at CRE). PIC x/c time!

In addition to this trip, Mark's coming on Thursday, and we'll probably end up going flying on Friday or Saturday. So stay tuned - blogging should be back for while.

Where am I?

2007-05-04T12:41:00.000-04:00

So today I opened up the "Flying" section of my bookmarks and stumbled upon this page. I seem to remember keeping a blog here a long time ago. In reality, it wasn't that long ago, but it's hard to blog about flying when you're not, well, flying. I flew only twice in April due to 2 trips out of town, horrendously unpredictable weather, and the increased workload that comes at the end of the semester. The 2.7 I logged in April is easily the lowest of any month in which I've logged time. On several occasions, I've logged more time in a single flight!

My last flight was 4/25 (see my last post) for a quick up and down jaunt. By the time I got to Concord, the winds were already starting to pick up (220 at 6, if I recall correctly). The plane started right up (I love warm weather!), and tower had me taxi to runway 2, where Jim was trying to teach some poor student to do short fields with a 6 knot tailwind. Poor guy. I left Concord for some maneuvering in the practice area. I got out there and configured the airplane for my favorite maneuver: slow flight. With a perfect setup: airspeed stuck in the white-only area, altitude pegged, and (one of my favorite things about the Cherokee) hardly any nose-up attitude, I watched the ground creeeeeep by below me. I did some clearing turns (in the slow flight configuration) without losing any altitude, and then did a power-off stall. During the stall, I focused on pulling the plane all the way into the stall (not just into the buffeting) before recovery. Upon recovery, a Learjet that I had NOT seen before passed about a quarter mile off my left wing. I could see the windows. Unfortunately, jet traffic is incredibly difficult to spot and anticipate while practicing maneuvers, because they can appear out of nowhere due to their speed. Duly shaken, I checked my altitude (to make sure I hadn't busted the bravo), and then called up Charlotte for flight following. I then did a nearly-perfect set of steep tunrs (I overshot the second turn) and a couple more stalls before heading into Concord for some landings. By this time, the wind was more across the runway (240 at 6), but at least they'd turned the airport around. My first landing on 20 was nearly perfect - right wheel first, then left wheel, then nose wheel, all super soft. The next two, though, were not as pretty. I wasn't too upset, as it's pretty difficult to land in a right crosswind (which continued to pick up) when you're solo in the left seat and the plane has an uncompressed (and thus longer) right strut. Something to work on I guess.

Hopefully my lack of flying is gone for good, though. May is here, along with beautiful weather (although it's not supposed to be so hot this weekend). In addition, the semester is winding down, leaving me with lots of dead time before graduation. And finally, several of my friends have unclaimed rain checks for flights that should get cashed in. My goal is to break 100 hours before June 29 - I'm 7 away.

Next flight: well I was going to go with grandfather tomorrow, but the weather's not looking so good. I'll probably go up for a pre-finals flight after finishing my last term paper.

It's go-time

2007-04-25T07:25:00.000-04:00

Reserved a plane today from 830-1200. Weather looked a bit dicey last night, but this morning, things are looking OK:

KCLT 250520Z 250606 20004KT P6SM SCT250
FM1500 20014G22KT P6SM FEW060 SCT250
FM0000 20006KT P6SM SCT060 BKN200

I'm definitely going up - it's been way too long. I'll just keep an eye (or an ear) on the ATIS to avoid any particularly nasty winds.

It's not my fault!

2007-04-18T15:00:00.000-04:00

So this time, my laziness isn't preventing me from blogging - rather, it's my lack of flying. I still haven't been up since I took Doog to Lexington in the Sundowner. The weather has been awful in the Charlotte area, alternating between storms and crystal clear days with winds gusting into the thirties or forties. To make matters worse, somebody took 63R down to Florida for SunNFun - I'm only slightly jealous. Finally, schoolwork has been a bitch (yes, I still do my schoolwork every once in a while). Sigh. I really want to go up - there's a chance that this weekend a guy I know, whose IFR checkride is on the 23rd in 63R, will want/need a checkpilot. At this point, I'll take what I can get.

2 more flights

2007-04-09T16:10:00.000-04:00

I have to make this brief, but I thought I'd share details from my two most recent flights:

3/31 - Adam and I went up, and had a great time. I took him over Davidson for some flightseeing, then up to Statesville for a T+G, and then down to Gastonia. On the way to AKH, I had one of those "max capacity" experiences - flying at 1800 feet (1000 AGL) with the bravo right above me, the airport still not in sight, some big towers to our left, and a short runway to land on. Fortunatley, I handled the pressure masterfully, and we had a nice landing in Gastonia (and a nice drive back to Concord). We grabbed lunch at Five Guys, a burger restaurant that compares favorably to In-N-Out Burger - I highly reccomend.

4/6 - Doog needed to have 46LA worked on again, so asked me to pick him up in Lexington in the Sundowner. This flight was super-easy, and on the way into Lexington I logged by 200th landing (a decent one, too)! On the way out, I flew under the hood the whole way home, including the GPS 24 into Bowman (which Doog said I did with "checkride quality"). Only problem: Doog's yellow-tinted foggles messed up my depth perception when I "broke out" into the sunny day on 2 mile final at 500 AGL. So I flared late, grazed the mains, and ballooned up again. No problem, though, - add some power, pitch it up, and settle it down. We were off the runway before the intersection.

Totals for these two flight:
Hobbs/PIC: 2.9
Landings: 4
Cross-country: 1.8
Sim. Instrument: 1.0
Instrument approaches: 1

Next flight: who knows?

Change of plans

2007-03-31T10:17:00.000-04:00

So the instructor Dwight was supposed to go up with this morning bailed on him at the last possible minute for some "family crisis." Of course, I was disapointed that we wouldn't be flying, but also that means I got to sleep to a humane hour. However, as I haven't been flying in over a week, I called another friend, Adam, who has wanted to go flying with me for some time. He seems a bit nervous, but more excited than anything (he says he's been skydiving, so how can a person who's jumped out of a perfectly good airplane be nervous about flying in one?). We're going to leave Davidson at about 12:30, and do a little sightseeing - Davidson, etc. Jim called and asked if instead of coming back to Concord, we drop the plane off in Gastonia (AKH) for the 100 hour, and then drive back in a crew car - all for a free half an hour in the plane! You bet! Looks like it should be a fun day - weather doesn't even look too bad.

Also - check out the way-cool fuel-tax-increase calculator at Av8rDan.

READ THIS NOW!

2007-03-28T20:30:00.000-04:00

So we've all heard the crap about the user fees, and how much it could suck to be a pilot if they were to be implemented. Well, here's hard, concrete, statistical proof of how much it would suck. The AOPA has an article and a video describing a flight taken by two guys in Europe. It's a pretty standard flight, really - IFR from England to Germany (sort of like IFR from Bowman to Concord). In a lot of ways, the system seems pretty familiar, except for one little detail - the user fees. For this trip, which featured standard IFR procedures (a weather briefing, a flight plan, a missed approach, an ILS, and a landing), the total fees were $233.97!!!

It doesn't stop there, though. AOPA details in its article about how there are fees for every single landing, touch-and-go and instrument approach flown in Europe. Even if you have to go missed (like the guys in the video), you still pay for the approach. The big problem here is one of safety. During pilot training, the importance of safety is hammered into student pilots more than any one technique or maneuver. However, anyone that's taken a basic econ course knows one of that discipline's fundamental rules: "Tax something, and you'll get less of it; subsidize something, and you'll get more of it." The JAA (Europe's equivalent to the FAA) thinks that what they are taxing by implementing these fees is general aviation. It seems this wouldn't be so bad, because GA pilots generally have fairly deep pockets (or access to them) because, let's face it, flying is expensive no matter how you slice it. No, what the JAA is taxing is safety. Because every flight, landing, and approach costs money, student pilots will be far less likely to practice them on a regular basis. Which means that pilots might be flying "real" flights (ie, to unfamiliar airports, with passengers on board, in shaky weather, etc) with less practice under their belt than their American counterparts! Let's think about some of the other unsafe behavior this will encourage:

- Scud running - IFR costs money? Screw that - we'll go VFR - even though its overcast at 1200 with decreasing viz and thunderstorms nearby. It's legal right?
- Flying approaches below MDAs or DHs. Going missed costs money, so better get the airplane on the ground the first time.
- Cancelling IFR prematurely. Note how in the video, the pilot remarks that cancelling IFR before landing will save the pilot lots of money. Now this is fine in some situations, but in high-traffic areas or in bad weather, pilots cancelling IFR to save money can be dangerous. Add to this that picking up a new IFR clearance in air is an "emergency," and pilots might make some VERY unsafe decisions.

There are plenty of other examples of things that pilots will be tempted to do to save some money. Fortunately, in the US we don't have to worry about any of these issues - yet. We have an ATC and FlightService system that is easy to work with, extremely capable, and (most of the time) friendly. They have saved lives in the past, and will continue to do so - as long as they are freely accessible to pilots when they are needed. We MUST stop this user's fee proposal in its tracks, or it might not just GA that dies.

Logshare

2007-03-27T23:41:00.000-04:00

In my never ceasing attempts to find new ways to vent my "flight voyeurism" (such as Live ATC and FlightAware), I've stumbled upon (or rather, Mark introduced me to) a website called Logshare. Essentially, this is a free online logbook software program that can compete with some of the programs you might actually *gasp* pay for (on a side note: this is just one more example of how most of the things on the internet that can be paid for can also be found for free, if you look hard enough). Not only does this site hold your logbook for you - more on the features in a minute - it lets you look at other pilots' logbooks (who have agreed to share them as well) - that's the voyeuristic part. You have to sign up (like I said, it's free) to get to browse other pilot's logbooks; I've posted a link to mine in the sidebar.

I've spent the past couple nights manually entering all of my flights into the system (a little bit time-consuming, I concede). Now that it's up to date, though, I've been playing around with the features and I'm quite impressed. Obviously, the program displays a fairly standard-looking logbook (with customizable columns!):

That's boring, though - you have something that looks like this in your flight bag (and possibly in Excel, as well). So let's see what the nitty-gritty features are. One cool table is the "Aircraft Configuration Summary", which displays Total Time and PIC time in each category, class and type of aircraft you've flown, in addition to their characteristics (such as Complex of High Performance).

Because I love pretty pictures, one of my favorite features is the "Flight Time by Type" graph, shown below:

In addition, Logshare will also spit out a table with your time in each individual aircraft that you've flown:

Perhaps the handiest feature, though, is "One-click Currency." Instead of having to go back through your logbook and figuring out when 90 days ago was, Logshare will tell you if you are or are not current just by clicking on the link. It even includes the text from the relevant FAR.

Best of all, though, is that it will even spit out that annoying table from the 8710 form, just like those pay-for-play logbooks:

Overall, I am very impressed with Logshare's system and capability. There are a few downsides (for instance, searching through the list of C172s to see if the one you've flown has already been entered into the system), and I'd always reccomend keeping another "soft" copy of your logbook (who knows what may happen to the site). Fortunately, Logshare has an "export" feature that will help you do just that. In short, I reccommend logshare to any and all pilots (especially those that are just starting out and won't have to spend hours upon hours entering their back entries!).

The weather's looking good for our flight to KMRN this Saturday...

IFR checkup

2007-03-20T20:44:00.000-04:00

Although AirDoog vetoed the idea of me actively working on my IFR rating and has somewhat curbed my flying time, I'm making decent progress on the IFR prerequisites. Here are the requirements for the rating, along with my progress on them:

FAR 61.65 - Instrument rating requirements
- Hold a private pilot certificate - Check
- Have a medical - Check
- 50 hours cross-country time as pilot in command - 26.2 - 23.8 to go
- 40 hours actual or simulated instrument time, 15 of which must be with a CFII and 20 of which may be done in a simulator - 7.3 - 32.7 to go
- One cross-country flown under IFR (although not necessarily in IMC) along airways/ATC routing at least 250 miles in length with landings/approaches at 3 different airports - ...uhhh
- Pass the written
- Pass the practical

So I'm still a long way off, but I'm chipping away at the requirements nonetheless. My PIC x/c time is jumping, and with Dwight getting current, I might just be able to convince him to log some checkpilot time for me. So no worries.

Next semester, I'll be out of the country with my fianceé (she'll be my wife at that point), which basically means I get to work on/study for several projects of my own choosing for 4 months. I've decided that I'm going to make my IFR knowledge test one of these, which means I'll want to take along some sort of DVD course - which leads me to the purpose of this whole post. I'm trying to decide between the KING schools course and the Sporty's course. The KING schools course is appealing for several reasons - loyalty (I got a 97% on my private test using the KING course); the bank of every single question that could possibly be on the test - but the Sporty's is appealing because it seems to focus on the rating as a whole, and not just on the written. Anyone out there have any reccomendations?

Landings practice

2007-03-19T12:21:00.000-04:00

So Mark was in Davidson over the weekend, and we did what pilots tend to do when they're together - fly, talk about flying, and drink (though we never mixed the last one with the first one, obviously). We were going to try to go up Saturday, but the winds were nasty - 310 @ 12 gust 20 - so we rescheduled for Sunday evening. My friend Dwight - also a pilot - decided to tag along and ride backseat.

I told the guys I wanted to fly the pattern the whole time and try to polish up my landings, and they were fine with that. When we called up tower, though, they told us that there was going to be a lot of big arrivals/departures coming back and forth from the race (which was in Atlanta this week). Even still, they did their best to work us in - big props to the controllers at JQF, who were nice enough to let me practice while simultaneously managing turbine arrivals/departures and being their usual friendly selves the whole time. They are probably the best controllers in the world.

The traffic actually made the pattern a lot more interesting, because we got to fly a lot of extended downwinds/360s/270s to space it out for traffic. The weather was absolutely gorgeous - winds calm, air smooth, and a beautiful sunset off to the west. The only complaint was that the engine was just a tiny bit rough in 36R. This would've been a cause for concern if we'd been going x/c, but because we were staying in the pattern (and I had a CFI on board) I knew it wouldn't be a big deal (interestingly enough, the engine was rough on taxi and at about 2000 RPMs in the pattern, but performed perfectly in run-up). No big deal. All in all, I got in 7 landings (and let Mark land it once) with one go-around (after we got tossed around by some unexpected turbulence - possibly wake related - over the threshold) tossed in there as well. Here's how they went:

Landing 1 - a decent landing, much better than some of my previous few. Still had just a slight bit of sideloading, where the left wheel touched just an instant before the right, as a consequence of my letting the nose wander in ground effect. This is the problem I'm trying to kill.

Landing 2 - a little rougher and floatier, but not as much sideloading, which is good. Mark suggests that I add some left rudder in ground effect.

Landing 3 - it finally clicks, and I get the left rudder in just-in-time before the mains sideload on touchdown. The landing was pretty good (little bit rough), but the longitudinal axis was right where I wanted it.

Landings 4-7 - these were all various degrees of perfect. I really got a good feel for the rudders in ground effect. During the first two, I let the nose oscillate back and forth ever so slightly, but on the last two I was holding constant pressure and the nose was pointing right down the runway. These four were also all ridiculously smooth, especially the last three, which Dwight described as "greasers."

We taxied back, and I was very satisfied with my performance. I'd definitely re-found my landing "touch," and it was also good to practice some unusual situations in the pattern (to keep me on my toes). Mark told me that he thought I had excellent control on the airplane, especially given how little time I have in that type. I definitely agreed - I flew good patterns, adjusted power and pitch very well, touched down every time before the thousand-footers, and was usually looking good on the PAPI. Most importantly, I got my confidence back - though I still feel that healthy fear/respect for flying that I found after the trip to EVV.

Next flight: possibly with my fianceé when she visits this weekend. If not, I'll be flying with Dwight up to Foothills Regional where Dwight's going to get current, get a BFR, and start his acrobatic training in a Citabria. It's 51.1 nautical miles from Concord, which means it's just far enough to log PIC x/c time, so I can keep working towards that instrument rating!

Hobbs/PIC: 1.1
Landings: 7

It's been a while...

2007-03-15T22:51:00.000-04:00

I'm not really sure why I haven't been blogging lately. I've certainly been flying - I'm almost to 90 hours now - so that's not the excuse. Maybe it's been busy-ness, but I've always found time to blog before. I'm afriad it may be due to one of the scariest things that's ever happened to me while flying. I guess maybe I didn't want to talk about it, but I guess it'd be good to get it off my chest (so to speak):

The week of March 4-10 was my spring break (ridiculously early, I know). I spent the first few days visiting Mark in Daytona (1.5 hours in a glass panel 172SP), then went home via AirDoog. On the way home, Doog told me of his intentions to finally get his autopilot fixed by having the flight director (FD) replaced. He asked that I fly him up to Evansville, where his avionics shop is located, in the Sundowner. No sweat, right?

So we show up to the airport on 3/5 late in the afternoon (I'm not night current, but the sun sets late in Louisville, even before DST) for the flight. I take off first to try to gain some time on Dad, who will be at least 50 knots faster than me. He still passes me anyway. I hear him land in Evansville before I'm even talking to approach. Oh well. So coming in, Evansville approach tells me to expect straight in runway 27. This runway is the shortest at EVV (just under 4000 feet), and has no PAPI/VASI, and the winds were blowing slightly across from the north. I acknowledged and set up for the approach. Coming in, I found myself very high and hot - I think I suffered from a severe runway width illusion - so I tried to slip off the altitude. Unable to do so, I elected to go around. Good decision. But then things went bad.

In the pattern, tower asked me what my intentions were, and I told them that I still wanted to land (duh - I didn't come all this way to practice a go around and go home). They acknowledged and let me fly the pattern for 27 again. I flew a pretty textbook pattern until the base leg, when I basically failed to lose any alititude, resulting in yet another super-high final. I tried the slip again, which was somewhat more effective. I still had too much speed, but I was set up for a decent touchdown point.

Then the shit hit the fans.

In the flare, the mains grazed the runway, and I thought I was down. Not too shabby I thought. I got on the rudders to stay straight while my speed bled off. My nose wheel still wasn't down. Suddenly I realized I was still floating - and I was halfway down the runway. The longitudinal axis was all over the place. The mains finally touched down, and I yanked the yoke back to get some speed off, and got on the brakes. I crested a small hill in the runway and saw the end rapidly approaching. My heart was pounding, but I knew I'd made it. I rolled out into the displaced threshold (I didn't need to, but I did anyway) then taxied to the ramp. My hands were shaking as I tuned ground on the radio.

The flight back to Bowman was a nonevent, and I stuck the landing. So what did I do wrong?

1) Didn't go around again. I should've realized I was high and hot again and tried yet again.
2) Didn't request a different runway. Obviously, the length/width of 9/27 was messing with me and I was having trouble with it. Doog reported the same thing. The winds were shifting to the north (we actually tooke off from 36 when we left) and I should've requested 36 after the go around. The advantages were numerous - an extra 4000 feet, a PAPI, etc.
3) Got too overconfident. I thought I'd be able to handle the Sundowner, having not flown it in 2 months. I was wrong. I should've spend 20 minutes in the pattern at Bowman before departing for EVV just to relearn the plane.

Obviously, it was a mistake, but as they say, any mistake that doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. In my case, I lucked out because not only did I survive, my body and the plane were intact. With that in mind, I feel like I did at least one thing right: I didn't panic - and this is huge. When I realized how bad the situation was, I could've stomped a rudder - or worse - in panic and wrecked the plane instantly, possibly killing me. Instead, I kept my head and used the controls to get the plane down safely.

There are 3 lessons I learned from that landing:
1) Going around once isn't enough, if a second (or third or more) is needed. It took me forever to learn that it's OK to go around if the landing isn't looking good. It needs to be OK on every pattern, even if I've already gone around.
2) Never panic - which I didn't - because it can mean the difference between life and death - literally.
3) Practice, practice, practice. I should've practiced in the Sundowner before attempting to land at a foreign airport. What's more - I need to spend at least one hour in about every 10 practicing landings still, just to work off the rust and keep them excellent. Hopefully that number will drop as my hours go up, but the need is especially apparent to me now.
4) Flying is dangerous, and demands my attention and discipline. I never denied this, but I may have lost track of it.

For a while, I thought about giving up flying. But that's not my personality. Airdoog didn't give up after a nose-gear collapse, so I won't let one scary landing make me give it up. I did get a wakeup call, though - my private pilot certificate is not a guarantee of perfect flying - I still need lots of work and practice. Fortunately, I'm still around to do so.

In other news:

- I have Malibu time - 3.9 to be precise - but no landings (yet).
- The Cherokee is back online. I never had to fly a high wing after all, except for the 172 with Mark in Daytona.

Next flight: possibly on Saturday with Mark, who is visiting me here.

Hours since last blog:
Hobbs/PIC: 11.1
Landings: 8
Complex/High Performance: 3.9
PIC x/c: 8.6
Sim. instrument: 1.5 (with Mark and Doog)

That's somewhat odd...

2007-02-22T15:44:00.000-05:00

So the winds are as nasty as predicted, today:

KJQF 221955Z 29020G30KT 10SM CLR 22/M14 A2977

But even weirder is the presence of a convective sigmet sitting right on top of us - on a 10/CLR VFR day:

I may be wrong, but I thought convective sigmets were mainly for "oh shit why are we in the air" kind of phenomena such as embedded tstorms, intense icing, or volcanic eruptions. Oh well. I think we're going to try to reschedule for next Thursday, but we're looking GOOD for time in the Mali tomorrow.

On a lighter note, the Cherokee is back in service. No more highwings!

Damn winds

2007-02-22T07:51:00.000-05:00

Here's the forecast for today's attempt at sightseeing:

FM1400 28012KT P6SM SKC
FM1900 29020G28KT P6SM FEW250 <--- when we were planning to go
FM0100 31015KT P6SM FEW250

Not my style, right there (see my personal minima post, below). If this holds true, looks like we'll be putting it off until next week.

On the bright side, AirDoog has overcome a short circuit in his engine monitor instrument, and will be here tomorrow afternoon. The weather's looking good, so I might (finally) pick up 1.5 PIC or so in the Malibu!

Back to the high wings

2007-02-19T10:47:00.000-05:00

I found out the other day that, three days after J and I flew it to Raleigh, the trim cable snapped in 63R. I don't know if it was in flight or on the ground (I'm glad it wasn't in my flight!), but the plane is down for the forseeable future. Which means it's back to floaty, slow, non-GPSed C172s. Fantastic. I'm taking a new friend up for a flight on Thursday. Actually, we've never met before, except through facebook, but he's the only other private pilot at Davidson. Most of his hours are in 150s/152s and a Piper Cub (he has a tailwheel endorsement - so jealous), but he's checked out in a 172 as well. So maybe he can offer some high wing tips, since I suck at flying them so much (compared to low wings). It's been almost 2 years since he last flew, but he seems pretty excited to go up again.

On Friday, I'm going home with AirDoog. Here's hoping for some VMC so that I can log my first Malibu time!

JER-RY JER-RY JER-RY!

2007-02-18T00:25:00.000-05:00

I usually try to keep my blog exclusively devoted to various flying happenings, but after a huge win for the Louisville Cardinals at Marquette, I had to let it out somehow. Big credit goes to Jerry Smith for the game-winning 3 pointer, but also to former pariah Derrick Caracter for his huge performance backing up David Padgett, who the refs decided to pick on for the seven minutes he actually got to play. GO CARDS!

User fees petition

2007-02-16T22:04:00.000-05:00

I think we've all heard a lot about user fees for the ATC system and just how sucky those would be. But aside from letting various pilot organizations gripe and lobby about it, I've felt pretty powerless in this fight. A website called www.petitiononline.com came to my attention today, and giving it a quick search, I found this petition to end GA user fees. There's only 7 signatures at the moment, and I have no idea if such a petition would ever even get to Congress, but it sure feels good to feel like I might be doing something about something I really care about (i.e., being able to fly without user fees). You should sign it if you feel the same way.

Pics from the trip to RDU

2007-02-16T11:27:00.000-05:00

Hoppin' in:

Firin' her up:

Me and J in-flight:

"Hershey-bar" wings:

Trying to find the runway at Concord after flying into the sun for an hour:

How to land; how not to land (from the trip RDU)

2007-02-16T00:14:00.000-05:00

First, how not to land:

Next, how to land:

The dusk landing was every bit as beautiful as it looks.

Student VFR & Personal minima

2007-02-15T18:46:00.000-05:00

So I know that video isn't exactly a riveting thrill in a cockpit; hopefully I'll get the rest of the pics/videos up soon.

During my classes today, I began thinking about the topic of personal weather minima (that's the proper plural of "minimum," if you were curious). Everyone - well, anyone that's passed the FAA Knowledge Exam for the Private Pilot's license - knows what the VFR weather minima are for various classes of airspace. In most instances, to be in VFR, the pilot has to be 1000 feet above the clouds or 500 feet below the clouds and 2000 feet to the side of clouds. In addition, visibility must be three miles or greater.

So let's think about this. The above requirements mean that a pilot could go to the airport, see a METAR looking something like this:

KJQF 011200Z 01012KT 3SM BKN1200 OVC2000 BR 03/M01 A2998

...and then decide to go up for some VFR flight. Obviously, he'd be a moron for doing so (if he had no instrument rating, that is), but nevertheless he could legally do it. With passengers. Scary, huh?

So I asked myself - what would I knowingly (weather technology is now so good that there's no excuse not to know) fly into as a VFR-only pilot? I got some ideas looking back at my student pilot endorsements. On my inital solo flight endorsement in a 172, Jim signed me off for "xwind < 7kts, 15kts total wind, 5 miles visibility." My x/c endorsements were largely the same. This led me to forumlate a weather type, similar to "Marginal VFR" that I decided to call "Student VFR." If I ever become a CFI, I'll sign my students off on something like this:

Max xwind component: 5kts
Max total wind: 12kts
Visibility: 6+ miles
Ceiling: 5000 feet AGL

In reality, it might not be a bad idea for the FAA to adopt some similar standards. That way student pilots everywhere would know quite easily if it was legal for them to fly solo (CFIs could still pose stricter restrictions, if necessary).

But I'm a lot better than a student pilot now. Or at least I'd like to think I am (dangerous thinking, I know). Certainly, I have more hours (nearly 80 total, and nearly 40 PIC) than most student pilots. But my skills have proven themselves. I've stuck landings in double digit crosswinds multiple times. I've flown and landed high performance and complex aircraft. I've logged time in 5 different types of aircraft, and 9 different planes. So I'm pretty sure the personal weather minima I'd give myself (at the moment) would go something like this:

Max xwind component: 10kts
Max total wind: 20kts
Visibility: 5+ miles
Ceiling: 5000 feet AGL

All in all, that's a pretty clear VFR, though it's certainly not ideal. The most important part of being a good pilot is making good decisions, and setting a set of minima like these can help remove the stress from some of these.

Video #1

2007-02-14T13:04:00.000-05:00

Here's the first video I've gotten from J. Since we were coming in from the southwest, RDU told us to fly a straight-in runway 5L approach. This video is shot on final, about 3 miles out. More to come.

Off to Raleigh

2007-02-14T00:46:00.000-05:00

On Sunday, I finally got a real chance to do what being a private pilot is all about - go somewhere far away in a fast airplane and take someone (other than an instructor) with me. Today that somone happened to be (once again) my fiancée; the somewhere happened to be Raleigh, where we would meet some friends for lunch and a play before flying home again that evening. Up until this point, all my PIC x/c time had either been completely solo (by myself) or with a flight instructor (generally Mark). The one exception was my trip to take AirDoog to pick up 46LA in Evansville in late December, but that hardly counts as a real cross-country (though I am happy to log it as such).

The weather cooperated with us magnificently, which I found amazing given that we had planned the flight more than a week in advance - in February. CAVU all the way, both legs. We were in 3663R, the advantages of which I expounded upon in detail in my last post. The GPS made the trip super easy - fly the pink line, as AirDoog says - and my radio work and general flying skills were pretty good. Coming into Raleigh, approach told us to expect runway 5L, which surprised me - that strip is the longest at the field (10000 x 150) and by far the longest I'd ever landed on. In fact, Raleigh was by far the biggest/busiest airport I'd ever landed at as a pilot. I tried to keep my excitement vieled.

We got cleared for a VFR descent to pattern altitude and a straight in approach to runway 5L. Winds were a nominal crosswind (about 4mph) at the surface, but much stronger aloft, which made holding center line a bit tough. As a result, I came in pretty hot on the flare, and managed to hold it in ground effect for a while so the speed could bleed off. Fortunately, we had LOTS of runway to work with, and my slightly-off-center-line-3/4-mile-down-the-runway landing was perfectly safe, if a little unnerving for my girl.

We taxied past a few 737s, and parked at the GA ramp to meet our friends.

*5 hours later*

We returned to the airport with unrestricted VFR, the sun descending right on our on course heading, and the afternoon push going on at Raleigh. This would be interesting. After a delayed start-up (J had to go retrieve my sunglasses, which I almost left behind!), I got the GPS and everything set, then tuned in clearance delivery. Most of the calls were for IFR clearances. I knew a little VFR x/c like me had low priority, but I also knew I had to jump in when I had the chance. I elbowed my way onto the frequency and got my clearance - VFR at/below 2000. Switching to ground, I taxied over to the runup area (which they were nice enough to guide me to) and then got in line behind a Citation, who was behind a 172, who was behind a 737. Cool. After all the departures, and several landings, tower cleared the Citation for takeoff and cleared us for position-and-hold behind the jet. Tower cleared us for takeoff and assigned us to 270 on the heading. Since the Citation is slightly larger than the PA28, I decided to try a short field takeoff - 25 degrees of flaps, hold the brakes, off we go. I did this nearly flawlessly - and then realized I'd folded up my kneeboard with the departure frequency in it! Shit. In the process of opening up the kneeboard and dialing it in, I overshot my heading by 15 degrees, then got back on it. Departure never said a word to us about it.

We got cleared progressively higher up to 4000, and then eventually to 4500. The winds, which had given us a nice push coming to Raleigh, now held our groundspeed under 100 the whole way home. This, combined with our direct flight into the setting sun, made the flight a little uncomfortable. Finally, we got close to Concord. Charlotte cleared us for our descent, and I fibbed and told them I had the field in sight (I had the resevoir north of 2 in sight, so it wasn't a total lie). I switched to tower, and got cleared to land number two behind a Mooney. I dialed in the ILS in case I had lots of trouble finding the field (which I didn't), and on short final the sticks were pegged in the ball (the PAPI was 2red/2white too). The landing reflected the perfect flight of the glideslope - one of the best of my career, if a bit flat. Even J was complimentary.

The trip was a great one, and I look forward to some more trips "going places." J took lots of pictures and 2 videos (one of each landing), so I'll try to get them up soon.

Hobbs/Solo/PIC/Cross-country: 2.5
Landings: 2

That's what I'm talking about

2007-02-07T23:55:00.001-05:00

Today was my much-anticipated checkout in the club’s Piper Cherokee 180 (see pictures below). It was not quite as “Sundownery” as I had expected, but it was certainly manageable. A few notable differences:

- The plane only has a copilot’s door, which increases one’s risk of sodomizing onself as they enter with the flaps handle extended (Hat Tip: Garvey)
- The mag starter requires a turn and a push on the key
- The plane requires copious amounts of nose-back trim. Most planes require nose-forward trim, but the Cherokee requires noseback trim, even on climbout (and especially in the pattern and on final).
- The “Hershey Bar” wings. Seriously, the things are fat. I’ll try to get a picture this weekend.
- The plane is FAR easier to taxi than the sundowner (the rudder pedals actually work!)
- 10 degrees of flaps on takeoff (probably due to the massive wings)

Jim and I climbed out to 3500 feet and the practice area and started with slow flight. As I said in my blog about my flight with my fiancée, I’m simply stunned by how easy this maneuver is and how difficult and uncomfortable I found it at first. With relative ease, I had the plane set up for perfect slow flight (took some work to get the airspeed slow enough – because the plane needs so much noseback trim to begin with, it’s hard to add enough in slow flight to get held back). So after some turns in slow flight (well done), Jim had me do stalls. My power-off was nearly perfect, and my power-on was good, but I have a bad habit of letting myself descend when it happens. This is a bad habit, and I need to devote a half an hour to breaking it. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s difficult to stall a plane when you’re by yourself. Maybe I’ll add this to the list of things I need to work on with Mark.

After stalls, Jim pulled the power on me, and I set myself up for the best simulated emergency I’ve ever done, which Jim said was quite impressive. Great field, great judgment, etc. The trick is to keep your head and use your resources to keep yourself safe. After some steep turns (easy enough) we came back to Concord for the pattern.

Having reported a 2 mile left base for runway 20, tower turned us around and had us flight right downwind for runway 2. Winds were 330 at 7. So we flew our right pattern, and I pulled off a decent landing – little floaty, maybe a bit too far down the runway, but it was my first landing and it was smooth – I’ll take it. Pattern 2 was disastrous – the wind was really whipping above the tree-line, and I kinda got blown all over the place. It’s a mistake that happens easily, and the important thing is to make a good decision. Fortunately, I was able to do this and as I felt myself fighting the wind and the plane on final, I executed a go-around. Very smart call. At this point the winds really started to pick up 330 at 8 gust 14; but I managed two more good ones, which Jim thought were great, given the circumstances (it’s a tough checkout in a crosswind). Since he was satisfied, I didn’t really want to fight the crosswind anymore and we called it a day.

I feel very comfortable in the plane. The best part about is that for only $2 more than a 172, you get 20 knots in cruise and a GPS with XM radio. Sweet! I’m excited about a trip to Durham this weekend (in 63R). I intend to do the majority of the rest of my flying with FlyCarolina in the Cherokee, so it should be all you hear about from now on.

Hobbs/PIC: 1.0
Landings: 3

So shiny...

2007-02-07T13:30:00.000-05:00

My mom called me the other day to inform me that my official and permanent pilot's certificate had arrived at home (in Kentucky). She mailed it to me in NC, and it arrived this morning. It's nice to have a "real" pilot certificate in my flight bag.

Ever wondered what it's like?

2007-02-06T19:09:00.000-05:00

For those that have never taken a checkride (or may be about to) and want to know what the oral examination is like, check out this video:

Private Pilot Oral Exam Video

It's like ten years old, but I still wish I'd seen this before I had my checkride.

I'm tired of high wings

2007-02-05T21:20:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I never really liked them that much in the first place. They're hard to see out of (which makes it difficult to fly square patterns or worse, see other airplanes or ice) and they just seem to scream "trainer" (compare the 182RG with its Beechcraft cousin, the Bonanza, and tell me the 182 doesn't seem to be a trainer plane). So I'm moving on - to the beautiful N3663R, FlyCarolina's 1970 PA28-180 Cherokee.

Check out that wood paneling:

ALL-right. My hope is that the Cherokee will be reminiscent of the Sundowner and not floaty (like the 172) or stiff (like the Cutlass). A friend of mine that's training in it says that it has the mechanical "e-brake" flaps lever, just like the Sundowner. I'm stoked. Jokes aside, though, the plane has decent avionics: double navcoms, a panel-mounted portable GPS with XM weather, and a Garmin transponder. Not too shabby, considering it rents for only $2/hr than a Cessna and cruises 20kts faster.

So I've got Jim booked for 2 hours on Wednesday, which will hopefully be enough (and also will hopefully be my last "Flight Training Received" until I visit Mark in Daytona next month). I'm pretty confident about the flight. The Cherokee seems like the Sundowner's long-lost sister, so I think I should fit right in (given that half my hours are in the Sundowner). Weather is supposed to be perfect (high of 60!), but winds are gonna be fairly strong and from the west, so it might be off to Statesville, where runway 10/28 will be right into the wind, for practice.

Check back on Wednesday for more.

Complex - done

2007-02-01T23:47:00.000-05:00

When Jim called me a few days before my scheduled flight in the Cutlass, I thought for sure he would be bearing bad news about some new problem with the plane. Fortunately, this was not the case. In fact, he reported that the plane had been functioning properly for some time. Very cool. So I showed up at Concord at 1:00 on the last day of January; Jim was his typical 10 minutes late. I gave him a playful bust on it, but I really have no complaints. Jim has never once been a “greedy CFI” to me, and generally undercharges me for his time rather than the other way around.

We don’t waste much time, and head straight out to N525JG. On the way, I ask Jim to review power settings and procedures with me. On the exterior, the Cutlass looks and preflights just like a regular 172, except for the telltale well where the nose-gear retracts. It’s on the inside that the plane is the most different. Obviously, there’s a new gauge (manifold pressure) and a new knob (the prop), but the plane also has some decent avionics: an HSI, storm scope, digital tach, electric trim, and – best of all – a Garmin 430. The aircraft is freaking ideal for a VFR cross-country.

So we started her up with only minimal difficulty (due to some COLD weather). On taxi, it was nice to be in the more familiar environment of a 172 (I could actually use the rudders and brakes fairly effectively!) after taxiing the Cirrus last time. Run-up was pretty standard, but on take-off I literally felt the difference between the 172RG and the 172 – it’s the weight. The plane is hea-vy. Pulling her off the runway, Jim and I started with a few trips around the pattern. On climb out, it took me a while to remember all the power settings, etc. – I felt a bit like a student pilot again – but on the second time through I had the rhythm down pat. The only thing that didn’t go smoothly were my landings which were AWFUL – sideloaded or floaty or both. I attribute this to the heaviness of the plane and my general unfamiliarity with the aircraft. So that was not cool. I also had a lot of trouble flying the pattern right in a high-wing airplane (not a surprise, since it’d been since December that I last did it).

After 2 miserable landings and one pretty bad one, Jim and I departed to the practice area for some maneuvers. My stalls were MUCH better than in the Cirrus (though I descended too much on my power-on stall; I think I could use a 1 or 2 hour solo review of maneuvers and landings). Then we went into emergency procedures. Jim pulled the power on me, and I instinctively started adding that nose back trim. With the plane pegged at best glide (~70 KIAS), our descent rate was a sweet 400fpm and we were in good shape. One problem: the gear weren’t down yet! Putting them down, the descent rate jumped up to 800fpm due to the induced drag! Wow! To counteract this, Jim told me to put the prop to full decrease. Doing this dropped our descent back 600fpm – not too shabby.

We ran the engine-out simulation down to 1500 feet, and then climbed back out for gear failure emergencies. Jim pulled the hydraulic pump breaker so the gear would in fact not come down. The checklist here is pretty simple – check the gear lights, check the gear circuit breakers, check the gear horns. If you’re sure the gear isn’t down (you can also look out the window in a Cutlass), then you do an emergency gear extension. In the Cutlass, this involves a hand pump that has to be pumped about 30 times before the gear lock into place. While pumping the handle (located between the pilot’s and copilot’s seats) I remarked to Jim that I felt like the plane would owe me 50 bucks when I got done. He laughed heartily, and the gear finally locked back into place. With the emergency gear extension demonstrated, Jim put the breaker back in and I turned back to Concord.

On the way, I managed to make the biggest fool of myself on the radio that I’ve made in a long time. Anticipating the controller’s directions, I gave rather contradictory reports of our position:

Me: “Concord Tower, Cutlass five two five juliet golf about 10 to the northeast inbound for landing…over the stadium…uh…no we’re not…”
Tower: “Cutlass 525JG report a right base over the stadium”
Me: “See, I was just guessing what you were gonna give me. We’ll report over the stadium, 5JG.”

Jeez everything’s falling apart for me – landings, radio calls…who knows what next. I hadn’t felt like such an amateur since I don’t know when – August? The difference was that now I can just laugh at my mistake on the radio (not so much on the landings), as Jim (and I’m sure the tower controller) did. Now that I had a better feel for the plane, I decided to stick my landing. Coming down on short final, I got alive on the electric trim (nose-back, to ease my flare) and carried some power into the flare. The result? A super-smooth, even landing right on the centerline. I pulled the rest of the power out to let the nose gear settle and we were off the runway by taxiway charlie. I knew I had some skill at this somewhere in there.

Despite my below-average performance, Jim gave me my complex endorsement. Combined with my high performance endorsement, I’m now legally allowed to start logging check-pilot time in a PA46, which I plan to begin ASAP. As far as my personal flying, I want to go up and sharpen my skills a bit, and then start taking some friends up again. I seem to fly the best when I’m with someone who knows very little about flying. I wonder why that is?

Hobbs/Complex: 1.1
Landings: 4

Let's try that again

2007-01-28T17:30:00.001-05:00

I've got the Cutlass (and Jim) booked for a couple hours on Wednesday. Hopefully the plane will cooperate and I'll be able to log some complex time and get the endorsement. If all goes well, I should legally be able to start logging check pilot time in AirDoog soon enough.

No glass, but super fast

2007-01-24T18:21:00.000-05:00

Today was the day I'd been looking forward to for more than a week: my flight in an SR22 (N702CD). Here's the official pic of the plane from the FlyCarolina website:

The plane is beautiful, but we'll get there in a second. I got the airport at 1pm and met Jim in the FlyCarolina office. After some personal chit-chat, we hit the books on high performance airplanes, which is surprisingly minimal. We discussed shock cooling (big engine = lots of heat; therefore dropping the power too quickly could "shock cool" the engine mounts and damage them), and Jim taught me how a turbocharger works. Very cool, but not immediately applicable because the SR22 is not a turbocharged model (though AirDoog is...).

With the boring stuff done, we made our way out to the SR22. I felt amazing just doing the preflight and climbing in the plane with its clamshell doors. The interior is beautiful. The plane is not glass panel (sad), but has super nice avionics nonetheless: an EHSI, 2 Garmin 430s, and a big 11.5" MFD. Wow. We start her up, and my only problem was with the brakes - I just couldn't seem to find them on the pedals. Fortunately I had Jim with me. We ran through our checklists, called, taxied, ran her up (the plane actually began moving a bit on runup, but Jim helped me out) and then got our clearance to takeoff. I'm pretty sure I was as nervous as I'd ever been on a takeoff (rivaling the takeoff on my checkride and on my first flight, way back in the day), but soon the plane was shooting down the runway (Vr = 80 knots) and with a little right rudder (just like always), I was right on center line. Very cool.

After rotation, I established a positive rate of climb at a climb speed just above Vy (about 100), but Jim had other ideas. He told me to hold 80 knots (Vx). I did as he said, yanked back on the stick, and pegged the airspeed. Dividing my attention between the ASI, the HSI, and outside, I failed to notice what the VSI was reading until Jim pointed it out to me: 2000 ft/min. The needle was pegged directly opposite the zero. Holy crap. My reaction gave Jim a laugh, and we leveled back out to climb out to the practice area. We leveled off at 3500, and I began trying to get a feel for the airplane. Though it was really fast, it was just an airplane, and I soon had her fairly under control (altitude pegged, turns etc. coming smoothly). One note: the trim on the Cirrus (electric only, on the top hat, or, as Jim called it, the chinaman's hat) was very difficult to figure out. I guess I'm just used to my old fashioned trim wheels. No biggie.

For our first maneuver, Jim had me do a set of steep turns. The first of these was abhorrent: altitude all over the place, bank angle not steady, etc. Knowing I could do better, I recovered the airplane, put aside my intimidation at the Cirrus, and executed nearly perfect steep turns in each direction. Mucho mejor. Jim then walked me through power-off, power-on, and autopilot-induced (scary!) stalls. Recoveries were all good, but I forgot my right rudder upon adding full power. Woops.

A quick glance at the watch revealed that it was quarter till three and the Cirrus dream would soon be ending. But the greatest challenge remained - landing the bird. Coming back in, Jim went over pattern speeds with me: 100 on downwind, 90 on base, and 80 on final. The last of these, Jim said, was absolutely crucial. Tower told us to fly to the stadium for a right base into runway 2. Descending down to the stadium, we were doing 160 when we got there. I yanked most of the power out, held our (pattern) altitude and let the airspeed bleed off. In the white arc I added 50% flaps, and soon the airspeed was very under control. Once established on a true base, I had the airspeed pegged at 90.

Turning final, I focused everything I'd ever learned about landing (mostly from Mark) into my mind. Maintain airspeed, fly the plane down to the runway, wait for the ground effect, flare, and let physics do the work. I pegged the airspeed at 80 by adding the last bit of flaps, and then added some power as we got a bit low on the PAPI. With 2 red/2white, 80 KIAS and a pegged 500fpm descent, we crossed the threshold. I pulled most of the remaining power out (leaving a little bit in to get a good feel for the airplane), and felt the ground effect start to take the airplane. I flared a bit early, and the plane ballooned out of ground effect, so I relaxed the flare a bit and let the plane settle Oh-so-smoothly onto the runway (right on center line, I might add). Jim complimented my landing, and I let the plane roll farther down the runway than I needed to (we could've made taxiway charlie with some braking, but I just let the speed bleed). The excellent landing certainly made up for the mediocre maneuvers in my mind. We taxied back, and then made our way back to the office. There, I got the coveted signature: my high performance endorsement.

Flying the Cirrus was a total rush, and I can't wait till I can do it again.

Hobbs/High perf.: 1.0
Landings: 1

First flight of 2007

2007-01-23T21:27:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, I’m going up for a flight in one of the sweetest GA aircraft in the skies today: the Cirrus SR22. Unfortunately, the flight is only for the purpose of getting my high performance endorsement, and it will probably be a very long time before I ever fly a Cirrus again. I have two hours of time booked with Jim: the first on the ground, and the second to do the flight. I’m hugely excited, but before tomorrow I have to blog about my last flight of Christmas break.

On January 8, we had a beautiful break in a long streak of nasty IMC with one day of clear VFR. After taking care of some appointments, I finally decided I had to fly. So I called my fiancée, who had not flown with me since August 14 (which did not go so well, thanks to my unhoned skills and some nasty thermals). An airmet called for some light turbulence down to the surface, but the winds were fine (a bit strong, but right down the runway) and the skies were very clear.

Preflight, startup, and runup were very standard, but my fiancee’s excitement was plain to see, and even rubbed off onto me a little bit. Takeoff was not unusual, but my passenger’s tension eased as the plane came off the ground (I guess she appreciated the smooth transition). We began with some sightseeing around Louisville: my house, various landmarks around Louisville, and a flight up the Ohio River. My control of the aircraft was excellent (especially on altitude), and our groundspeed was really high (in the 120s). As a result, some sights flew by before either of us could even get a good look. It took my fiancée three passes to see my house, and it wasn’t until my mom drove up the driveway in our bright yellow VW beetle that she spotted it.

As we flew towards the practice area, I let her take the controls for a bit. She had a bit of confusion as to what controls did what (especially the difference between yaw and roll), but eventually figured it out and had a lot fun flying the airplane. Once in the practice area in southern Indiana, I climbed the plane to 3000 feet so I could demonstrate some maneuvers. First, I set the airplane up for slow flight (my fiancée was interested in this maneuver after seeing me reading an article on it in a magazine), which turned out perfectly: airspeed 5 above the bottom of the white arc, but the pitch attitude was not too high (the stall horn wasn’t even on!) and the altitude was pegged. I asked J if she wanted me to execute a stall from here (since it’d be so easy), but she passed. So instead I recovered and briefly demonstrated steep turns to her, which thrilled her.

At this point, the sun began an amazing sunset that would last for another ten minutes. The sky was purple, orange and red, and utterly gorgeous. I called Bowman Tower to ask them if we could enter the Delta for some sightseeing (my fiancee’s house is right on the edge of the airspace); this was approved. After we spotted her house, we flew back north for a few minutes to let the sun go down (I had no desire to land on runway 24 with the sun right in my eyes!). My landing was pretty good, and J was happy to be back on the ground. It was great to fly with my love, and I think she actually had a good time.

Hobbs/Solo/PIC: 1.2
Landings: 1

Here we go...

2007-01-12T13:51:00.000-05:00

So I'm sure anyone that ever read this blog with any measure of consistency (besides my family) has long since stopped, because I've been so lazy over Christmas break. On Sunday, though, I'm going back to school, and hopefully will return to flying with some regularity as well. I apologize for the break, but hopefully things will get ramped back up here as the semester begins. I do have one flight that I need to find time to blog about, hopefully today or tomorrow. Check back!

It's been a while...

2006-12-17T21:25:00.000-05:00

Note: I'm the laziest blogger ever; at least during Christmas break. I haven't posted since the alternator failure in the Cutlass, but I've logged over 10 hours since that point. This post might be hurried, but I hope I can cover most of what I've been doing.

...since my last post, I've been ridiculously busy - but I've certainly made time to fly. Finals season was relatively uneventful - one 10 page final paper, and 4 finals (2 regular, 2 take-home; I elected to take my film final back to the Ville with me) - but definitely took up the usual time. I flew home in AirDoog on Sunday the 10th, and, as I had posted eariler, began my IFR training with Mark the next day. We started with some basic "hood" flying - I put hood in quotations because Mark, ever the doofus, forgot his Foggles, so we had to use a sectional chart stuck under my headset. First the four basics (straight and level, turns, climbs and descents), followed by some climbing turns, then partial panel work and turns on compass. Mark thought all this was pretty satisfactory, so we turned on course for Owensboro, where we would be having lunch at world famous Moonlite BBQ. Having eaten enough to put the plane over gross weight, we found ourselves in a bit of a dilemma. AirDoog, whose autopilot was out of comission, wanted to meet us in Evansville, IN around 5pm eastern time (4pm central). Since it was already 1pm central, it would make little sense to fly back to the Ville (since we would have to turn right around again). So we decided to pack up and fly to KCYE in Murray, KY, where our friend from high school Tyler goes to school. Since his family now lives in Ohio, we rarely see him anymore, so we were excited to hang out a bit. He showed up late (as always), and we then took him and his girlfriend Kayce up for some sightseeing around the area (Tyler goes to college in the middle of BFing nowhere, so there wasn't much to see). He did, however, take a video of me as I landed in a direct crosswind at Murray:

We landed, dropped them off, and rode a nice tailwind up to Evansville. AirDoog was waiting for us, and I was excited about my first flight with my Dad onboard (even though we would be in the back). We took off, and I logged a bit more hood time (this time under real Foggles, courtesy of AirDoog) before breaking out for a night landing at Bowman field. Since we had flight following, SDF tower let us fly in the Charlie and across the extended center line of runways 17. As we did so, a 737 turned final pointed right at us - far away, but still frightening, especially given how quickly he seemed to close the distance between us. After the 737 was no factor, SDF let us descend at our discretion and contact Bowman. Of course, this gave us about 2 miles to go 1000 feet just to get to pattern altitude. Bowman tower cleared us to land on runway 14 (newly reopened, but with an out-of-service VASI). Nevertheless, my landing was a thing of beauty (even prompting an "Are they all that good?") from Doog in the back seat. I always seem to be able to land better when there's a passenger in the back seat; I think it's something with the CG. Tired from a long day of flying, we fueled up and put her away for the night.

Totals for this trip:
Hobbs/XC/PIC: 5.3
Sim. Instrument: 2.3
Night: .2
Landings: 5 (4 day, 1 night)

On Friday, Mark and I (along with another friend from high school, Docti) decided to fly to Terre Haute, IN to visit some of Mark's friends at Rose Hulman. It was to be a brief trip - we got off the ground at about 830, and would have to leave in the morning at about 700 to make it back for someone else who had the plane booked. The flight up was uneventful (despite an unnecessary argument between me and Mark about some stupid thing), and my landing at HUF was pretty good. After a night of mild carousing and debauchery (with Mark and I cutting outselves off at 1100pm sharp), we woke up and drove back to the airport. The airplane had been left outside, and as a result we had the lovely task of scraping about 1/4inch of ice off the entire surface of the wings. Wonderful. On the way back, I decided to fly right seat (but still control the airplane) so I could get a feel for what that was like. It was not particularly difficult, though some of the instruments are tough to read from way over there (especially the ASI). My landing at Bowman, however, was not as nice - I came in hot and high, but still made a decent show of it (with some help from Mark). To cap it all off, the douche that had made us fly back so early (we'd called to see if he could reschedule, but he couldn't) never showed for the airplane (and we were a little bit late).

Totals for this trip:
Hobbs/XC/PIC: 2.6
Night: 1.5
Landings: 2 (1 day, 1 night)

On December 27, the weather finally let us fly to Evansville to drop off AirDoog so that he could bring his plane back to the Ville. Despite my best attempts to find a passenger for the trip, I could not and Doog and I made the trip solo (meaning a solo flight back). SDF vectored us some (predicatbly), but once we turned on course the flight was smooth and beautiful, and we got to Evansville with little effort, and I capped it off with a decent landing. I dropped Doog off and got back to the runway ASAP, because I know 46LA would be a good bit faster than 5155M. I took off and turned on course, and was airborne for about 15 minutes before I even heard Dad contact departure. A few minutes after getting handed off to Louisville, it finally happened:

[Louisville App]: Sundowner 55M, fly heading 090 and descend to 4500 for traffic.
[Me]: 090 on the heading and 4500 for 55M.
[Louisville App]: Malibu 46LA, fly heading 110, maintain 5500 for traffic.
[46LA]: 110 on the heading for 46LA.
(A few mintues later)
[Louisville App]: Malibu 46LA, traffic your 11 o'clock, a Beech Sundowner.
[46LA] Looking for the Sundowner, 46LA.
[Louisville App]: Sundowner 55M, traffic will be overtaking you from behind off your right hand, a Malibu at 5500.
[Me]: *sigh* Looking for the Malibu, 55M.
(about 1 minute later, after Doog blazes past me)
[Me]: 55M has the Malibu in sight.

In short, he "passed me like I was standing still" (as he put it later), even though my groundspeed was over 120 (respectable for the Sundowner). SDF flew us both right over the numbers of 17L/17R, and then handed us off to Bowman. My landing at Bowman wasn't great - winds were from 150 at 8 and I was landing on 24. My slip set me down hot and crooked - in retrospect I should have gone around and requested runway 14. But I got down OK, and relearned a lesson - don't be afraid to go around if need be. Nevertheless, Doog was complimentary of my skillz as a pilot, and I felt (as I have the past several flights) very competent at the controls.

Totals this trip:
Hobbs/XC/PIC: 2.3
Solo: 1.0
Landings: 2

Totals for Christmas break so far:
Hobbs/XC/PIC: 10.2
Solo: 1.0
Sim. Instrument: 2.3
Night: 1.7
Landings: 7 day, 2 night

Tomorrow, Doog and I are taking a nice long flight tomorrow in 46LA for Naples, FL for a weekend with his parents and then the FedEx Orange Bowl, which the Louisville Cardinals are playing in. While we're down there, I'm trying to convince my grandfather to go up with me in a 172, and we'll do a little coastal flying. I'll post again when I can. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!

Another flight cancelled...

2006-12-08T23:09:00.000-05:00

...this time due to plane problems, not the weather. This is perhaps the single most frustrating experience I could imagine: perfect weather for flying, a great new challenge to take on (the complex aircraft), a great briefing with Jim before flying, and then...it falls apart. After about an hour of discussing complex aircraft systems, we headed out to the lovely Cutlass for the flight. Preflight was normal, and with a really-cold start, she was humming along nicely. Except for one thing: the low voltage light was still on. And so the great investigation began: recycle alternator, run the engine up, recycle again, avionics on - then off - recycle again, recycle the whole master, etc. No luck - dead alternator. Our only guess centered around a strange burnt-clutch like smell upon startup, which we thought might have been belt related, but a look under the cowling indicated that that probably wasn't the case. With the plane drawing power from the battery only, the only choice was to shut her down. Looks like it might be a while before I can start logging time in AirDoog.

I might try to go up for a bit on Sunday, depending on how finals go; otherwise, IFR training begins on Monday at 10AM. Should be fun.

Flight cancelled

2006-12-07T15:42:00.000-05:00

Due to winds, mainly. I was supposed to go up with some friends this evening, but with winds 330 @ 12 gust 20, I decided against it. I'm not too upset, because tomorrow morning I'm meeting Jim for my first complex lesson!

IFR training...

2006-12-06T18:28:00.000-05:00

...begins Monday at 10AM, with the newly minted CFII Mark. Sweet.

But I have to finish finals first :(

Damn, it feels good to be a private pilot

2006-12-04T21:41:00.000-05:00

Sorry I didn’t blog my flight on Saturday after taking JD and Mike up, but I’ll wrap Sunday’s flight into one post with today’s. Saturday’s flight was one of the best of my entire life. We arrived at Concord around 3pm, with the sun beginning a beautiful descent in the western sky. Mike thinks he wants to start taking lessons, so we were hoping Jim would be in the office so I could introduce him. Alas, it was not to be. We went outside and preflighted the plane (interestingly, when I flipped the master on to extend the flaps, I heard no gyro – the first indication that the turn coordinator mini-plane would be inoperative) in gorgeous weather (about 60 degrees, winds light and right down the runway, CAVU). I wasn’t exactly nervous per se, but I was definitely very excited (and had a few butterflies in my basket).

I briefed Mike and JD about our procedures in the event of an emergency, and then let them get in the plane (JD took the back seat first). Unfortunately, the backseat headset jacks weren’t working, so the backseat occupant was unable to hear/speak to us (Mike and JD later used my paper pad to pass messages back and forth). We taxied to runway 2, and soon we were in the air. We flew the trip I’d pre-planned – over to Davidson/Lake Norman for some sightseeing, then up to Rowan County airport. Up in the air, I confirmed my suspicions that the turn coordinator (driven by the only electric gyro) was inop (no biggie, though, because the attitude indicator still indicated our bank just fine). At Rowan, I stuck one of the best landings I’ve had in a long time – nice little squeak and right on centerline.

After taking a quick break (and letting Mike and JD switch seats), I started 68D up (hot start worked the first time), and took off on runway 2 Rowan. After letting JD have a little fun at the controls, we pointed the nose back towards Concord, and entered the pattern. Tower cleared us to land when we had a Bonanza on short final in sight. Turning final, things were looking really good. Keeping the nose pointed down at the runway, I flared at exactly the right moment, and touched down so smoothly it couldn’t be felt, and Mike says he never felt the nose gear come down. Awesome. We packed it up for the night, and then hit the Mellow Mushroom for dinner.

The next morning, Dan, Emmaline and I made our way back to Concord – this time with a camera. We flew the same route as last time, but this time there’s pictures to prove it! Take a look:

As I made our "departing the area" call out of Rowan, a vaguely familiar voice (Andy Rieselt) said it was good to hear me using my new license. I thanked him for the compliment (over the radio, no less!) and continued on out. Neither of my landings that day was as good as Saturday’s amazing one, but they were both really, really good. Dan took a video of our landing at Concord from about 10 AGL to after touchdown. Check out the sweet chirp right as the tires hit the tarmac (the landing isn’t half as rough as the camera makes it look – you can hear Emmaline say “good job” if you listen closely).

It’s great to be a private pilot, and share flying with my friends. It’s a lot more fun than being by myself (which isn’t exactly dull).

Hobbs/PIC: 3.1
Landings: 4

First passenger flight (as PIC) today

2006-12-02T11:09:00.000-05:00

So I've been itching to fly since my checkride on Monday, but I didn't want to just take myself up (after all, I could do that anytime). So today I'm taking two friends (Mike and JD) up for a little sightseeing and fun. Mike is a bit of an aviation nut himself, and may even think about starting lessons with Jim. The weather looks great for the flight today - temps in the mid 50s, winds relatively mild, and CAVU. Hopefuly the air is as smooth as it looks. I plan on taking the boys for a bit of a sightseeing trip over Davidson/Lake Norman, and then heading up to Rowan County for a landing (and a seat switch for whoever gets stuck in the back first). After that, we'll go back up, maybe do some steep turns, and then head back to Concord. I'm stoked.

NORDO

2006-12-01T11:12:00.000-05:00

The issues with the Sundowner's radio on the way to Cincinnatti a week ago have pushed their way to the front of my flying thoughts since I finished my checkride. I'm wondering if we made the right decision to fly our trip as planned, even with the radios going wacky. Since our radio trouble began fairly early in the flight, perhaps the smartest decision would have been to return to Bowman and just bag the plan. But since the majority of our flight was to be conducted in Echo class airspace, this option was not imperative. However, our intended destination, Lunken, was located in Delta class airport, where 2 way communications are required before entering. Our inability to transmit would be a more serious problem here. And to top it all off, Cincy approach cleared us into Bravo class, with our radios on the fritz. What more could we have done? There are two main options:

1) Squawk 7600 (so Cincy doesn't freak out when we change course) and divert to an untowered airport.
2) Squawk 7600 and use light-gun signals to get on the ground Lunken.

Both of those options, though, involve the use of the "Lost com" transponder code - which didn't exactly apply to our situation. While our ability to transmit was not-so-good, we could receive transmissions on all frequencies. We could even "respond" by using our transponder to ident. So the ideal solution would have been a special transponder code for "receive only" on the radio (7650, perhaps). Using this code, we could have eliminated the confusion surrounding our flight, and saved the controllers some time and effort.

Bad idea

2006-11-29T12:35:00.000-05:00

Here's a great post, from the blog Information Echo (link on the sidebar), on why flying into IMC is so dangerous for VFR-only pilots, especially those with little or no instrument training. The post made me agree with Joe that more - not less - simulated instrument time should be required for the PPL.

178 seconds to live

Where to go from here?

2006-11-27T21:41:00.000-05:00

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don't know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter.

The private pilot checkride was sort of a surreal experience for me. It felt like graduation – a nebulous but sure-to-arrive date far-off in the future that came up all too quickly. That it’s come – and passed – so quickly is amazing to me. It kind of felt like I might be in flight training forever (and this didn’t seem too bad). But now I’m a private pilot, and can fly essentially anytime I want (in VFR conditions and with a current BFR, etc.). So where do I want to go from here?

First, I want to get endorsements for PIC in high-performance and complex aircraft, so that I can act as a check pilot for AirDoog (and log PIC time in a PA46!). Jim has told me he’d give my high-perf in an SR-22 after I got my license, and Mark said we could find a plane to get my complex in (C172RG anyone?). So that’s probably the most immediate training goal at the moment.

Then there’s the IFR rating. Mark just got his CFII certificate down at Embry, and he’ll be itching to teach me (to get some hours). If the weather is generally good, we might be able to get most of the rating done. I definitely plan on getting it at some point (hopefully before graduation from college), so it’s another training goal to keep in mind.

But most importantly, I want to enjoy my new flying privileges. I want to carry some passengers, make some flights for a purpose other than training (maybe a vacation), etc. The flying I’ve been doing – intensive training – has been little fun, and I really want to get back to the “fun” flying (like the flight we just had to Cincy).

But that still leaves some issues. I am no longer a VFR student, so the blog’s URL is now obsolete, but changing it makes little sense. I think I’m going to continue using “Learnin’ to Fly” as the name, though, because it’s my firm belief that any pilot – no matter how highly rated – can still learn any time he steps behind the yoke – with an instructor, solo, or with a plane full of passengers. So I’ll continue blogging my flying as a private pilot, and as I begin whatever training I tackle next.

That was close...

2006-11-27T20:00:00.000-05:00

Well I don’t even know where to begin on this one. Obviously, this flight ranks with my first flight ever and my first solo as one of the most important of the thirty-something flights I’ve logged. The quick version of the story can be read in the post below this one. I’ll try to recount the details my adrenaline-flooded mind was able to record.

I went to Concord straight from Davidson after my 11:30 class ended (about 12:20). Too nervous to eat, I got to JQF about half an hour before Joe asked me to meet him, but he was already in the FlyCarolina office when I got there. Fortunately, Jim was as well, and he gave me the last endorsement I needed before the checkride. Joe and I chatted for a bit, and then went out to preflight. Joe paid much less attention to my pre-flight than I expected, and we soon climbed in for flight. I was able to remember most of the really crucial things on the ground – test brakes, checklists, transponder, etc. – and we took off with only one hitch: Joe covered up my ASI. The plane still flew fine, and we were aloft shortly. That’s when things got a little sticky. I began my turn on course at 500 feet AGL – as Mark and Jim had both taught me – and Joe objected strongly, saying that, according to the AIM, 300 feet below pattern altitude should be obtained before turning on course. Oh well. We were soon on course, but I missed our first checkpoint – a small strip near Concord. We flew way past it (with some minor altitude issues), but I corrected just fine, and we never deviated from PTS.

With the next checkpoint in sight, Joe asked me to put the Foggles on (right as I did, we got a pretty dangerous traffic report from Charlotte, and Joe took controls to deviate from the traffic I couldn’t see). Joe uncovered the ASI, and we did some BAI maneuvers – turns, descents, climbs, climbing turns, etc. Joe then tested my unusual attitude correction (an easy dive). With that done, Joe took the flight controls and (as he often did, especially during the oral) did a quick demonstration of something that led to a larger demonstration of some maneuver (in this case, slow flight and a power-off stall).

To my surprise, Joe never asked me to do any of the maneuvers I was prepared for – slow flight, power on/off stalls, steep turns, ground reference maneuvers, etc. (as Mark so astutely observed, “what did you do on your checkride?”). Instead, he asked me to look up the frequencies for Stanley County (KVUJ), then basically pointed me in the right direction (no diversion calculations necessary). Too easy. We called tower, got clearance into the delta class, and entered the pattern. Once again, we found another sticky point. Abeam of the numbers, I pulled the power back, added first notch flaps, and began my descent – which Joe promptly disagreed with. Once again, the AIM says that the descent should be made only on base and final (contrary to the teachings of Mark and Jim). Oh well. My standard full-stop landing was nothing to write home about, but it was on centerline and not too shabby. We did a soft-field take-off, then another landing, and then Joe took flight controls for the whole flight back to Concord.

At this point, I thought I was hosed. When I asked Joe if I could take the flight controls, he said I should just enjoy the ride. Gulp. So I rode back in suspense, thinking I’d probably failed the test (though my maneuvers reflected my nervousness, none of them were “bad” and I only broke PTS once – altitude – so my fears were probably unfounded). We landed, cleaned up the aircraft, and then went inside. Still in the dark, I saw Andy in the lobby, who asked for the news. I told him that I had no idea, and then met Joe in the office. After postponing for a few more minutes. He shook my hand and then delivered the good news: “I guess you’re safe enough up there. Let me get you a certificate.” Not exactly a rave review, but I deserved as much (I was nervous as I could be). I told Andy the good news, and then let the other interested parties (Mark, Jim, AirDoog, etc.) know via text message. I was – and remain – absolutely stoked. My only complaint with the whole thing – besides my nerves – was that Joe tried to teach too much – verbally admonishing me for little errors even as I corrected them myself. Oh well. I am a private pilot – I can’t complain too much. I’m now looking forward to my first flight with a passenger as PIC. When I can, I’ll post about my upcoming plans for flying. But for now, I’ll bask in the wonderful feeling of being a newly minted “real pilot.”

Hobbs/PIC: 1.8
Landings: 3
Sim. Instrument: .4 (probably should be more)

TOTALS TO GET THE CERTIFICATE:
Total time: 55.5
Training: 37.4
PIC: 18.1
Cross-country: 12.3
Night: 7.7
Total Landings: 155
Aircraft flown: 6 (1 BE23, 5 C172)
Sim. instrument: 3.1
Money spent: a whole lot (but totally worth it)

It's done...

2006-11-27T17:10:00.000-05:00

I am now in posession of a piece of paper that says, "This certifies that Westray Stewart Cobb II has been found to be properly qualified and is hereby authorized in accordance with the conditions of issuance on the reverse of this certificate to exercise the privileges of: PRIVATE PILOT."

More to come in a little.

Checkride rescheduled

2006-11-26T11:36:00.000-05:00

For Monday afternoon at 1:30. The weather looks great: winds light/calm, no forecast precip or the like. I'm strikingly not nervous; I really just want to get it over with. Let's see how it goes!

A little break...

2006-11-26T11:11:00.000-05:00

On the Friday after Thansgiving, I got the chance to take a break from checkride flying by taking Mark, Dan and myself to Cincinnatti for a neutral-site basketball game between the University of Louisville and Dayton. I'd planned an x/c, and reviewed my numbers with Mark, and we met at Bowman at 2:30. Despite a little trouble finding some new AFDs (the old ones had expired the day before), we were off the ground soon enough. It was wonderful to be flying Miranda again, in spite of the few things I don't like about her (no seat-height adjustment, for instance), and she pulled off (the newly re-opened) runway 32 with ease.

We were climbing on course to the Falmouth VOR (our checkpoint to stay out of the Bravo) when the radio problems began. Bowman tower handed us off to departure, who had a lot of trouble picking up my transmissions. Hmmm... We finally got a good check-in call made, and for a while the problems sank to the background while we all enjoyed the beautiful and very-smooth flight (the weather was just wonderful). Soon, however, we were handed off to Cincy approach, who was nice enough to clear us into Bravo class airspace. How did we repay them? By essentially going NORDO on them. Cincy was even nicer though, and realizing that we were having radio trouble, let us acknowledge their communications by IDENT-ing on the transponder. While I flew the plane, Mark messed with the radios, and we eventually figured out that we could get Mark's PTT to work on the second radio. Wonderful. Anyway, we soon had Cincinnatti-Lunken in sight, and (despite me flying the approach at Cessna speeds) touched down smoothly. Mark called the tower to explain our situtaion, and I ordered us a cab to the game.

Louisville, predictably, lost the game, and we made our way back to Lunken to get home. The weather remained great, and we did a radio check immediately upon startup. With a little trickery, Mark got the radio to work (again, just on his side), and we finally got off the ground for a gorgeous night flight back to Louisville (note: I hate the Sundowner's trim. No matter how hard I try, I can't get the aircraft to trim for level - either a descent or climb. The funny thing is, sometimes it'll climb about 150 feet, and then stop. Arg!). Coming into the Bowman, I had a bit of trouble finding the field (Mark got me pointed in the right direction) and then I stuck a super-soft night landing. We were happy to be back safely, and the flight was just what I needed - a flight for fun, not for the checkride.

Hobbs/XC: 2.7
Night: 1.5
Landings: 1 day, 1 night

Happy Thanksgiving to all...

2006-11-23T15:12:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving is a great day to be alive. There is so much to be thankful for in the world, and how better to express it than by gaining 4 pounds, sleeping, and watching football? Here's my short (somewhat aviation-related) list of people/things I'm thankful for this year:

-My parents, who have supported me financially through my quest to become a private pilot
-My fiancee, who has pretended so many times to find my boring/confusing flying stories interesting
-Mark, who not only taught me pro bono for over 23 flight hours, but who has constantly been available for my endless pre-checkride questions
-General aviation - despite the potentail for painful mechanical/weather-related delays, there really is no better way to travel, as we found out last night:

AirDoog arrived at JQF last night with the weather even worse than it had been on Tuesday (winds still gusting down the runway, but ceilings much lower). Fortunately, he had my favorite commercially-rated pilot with him (Mark), which made the flight substantially safer. After loading up (me, Doog, Mark, and my friend Dan, a perennial guest at our hosue for Thanksgiving), we taxied to runway 2. Doog kept 6LA on the ground a bit long to avoid a windshear stall on takeoff, and soon we were climbing up into the (very bumpy) soup. We were in actual essentially until we came out over the mountains - at which point we were greeted with one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Off our left wing, the sun was setting into an orange/red/blue/purple sky like I'd never seen, and just above it the thinnest sliver of a waning moon possible. In addition, the viz was through the roof, and we could literally see 75+ miles away. We had Louisville in sight shortly, and Dad and Mark got us on the ground safely. Though I wish I could've been in the cockpit with Doog, it's good to be home.

Tomorrow, Mark, Dan and I are flying to Cincy for a UofL game - if we get tix.

So close...

2006-11-21T16:50:00.000-05:00

So waking up this morning, the first thing I did was check the weather. Not that I expected an improvement, but to my dismay it'd gotten even worse: winds at 14 gusting 24. Fantastic. Undeterred, I finished my cross-country planning (the winds aloft were just as strong, and some of my groundspeeds dipped into the 60s!). All done, I made my way to Concord, pretty sure that we wouldn't be flying that day.

I met Joe Killough in the lobby of the airport, and Jim was right - he's older than dirt. But extremely nice and laid back. Within a few minutes I had to remind myself that I was actually doing my private pilot checkride and not talking with an old friend or flight instructor. So we went over paperwork, and then launched into the oral exam. He was able to stump me on a few questions (especially on my personal killer: category and class of aircraft vs. category and class of airmen...don't go there).
Half an hour in or so, Jim called and Joe said that he had sent me home because I was so bad. I got a good laugh, but I think Jim thought he was serious. We covered all the stuff Mark said we would cover - airspace types (missed that Concord reverts to Class G - not E with underlyin G - at nighttime; oh well), cross-country planning, weight and balance, aerodynamics (what makes an aircraft turn - the horizontal component of lift, I barely got that one), some FARs (privelges of a private pilot, etc.). The session really felt very little like a test; in fact, most of the time Joe would begin by asking me a question ("what would you do if you wandered into IMC on accident?") which I answered, and then he would proceed to tell some story about how one of his students had this happen and such and such.

By the time it was all over, the winds were still howling, and I elected not to go up. Joe did not try any tricks on me (like telling me that he didn't have another opening for a month), but said that'd be fine, and that he was available basically anytime next week. Before leaving, Joe told me that I was very knowledgeable (despite some communications confusions between us every once in a while) and that if I do as well on my flight as I did on my oral, I'll be in great shape. Here's hoping!

The weather (part III)

2006-11-20T22:23:00.000-05:00

So it looks like it might be a no-go tomorrow. The Charlotte TAF is forecasting winds from 010 at 12 gusting 20 (yikes!) with visibility 6 and a ceiling at 8000. Not exactly the best conditions, especially for a checkride when I'll be held to pratical test standards. So I've decided that if the TAF is true (especially regarding the gusts; I can handle the 12 mph winds), I won't be flying tomorrow. I'd rather not jeapordize my safety by trying to complete a mission (aka the checkride) in a situation that I'm not comfortable as a pilot. This decision is not an easy one, because if I don't fly tomorrow, that 100 hour is going to come calling and the plane could be out of service for a long time - maybe into Christmas break. It breaks my heart to think I might get this close and then might not be able to do it until January of later, just because of some weather. But I guess that's what being a pilot is all about.

Last flight before checkride

2006-11-20T22:00:00.000-05:00

Went up with Andy today for a little while to practice. The air was much smoother than Saturday, but we didn't do any checkride maneuvers (except for a soft-field takeoff coming out of Concord). Instead, we went to Monroe to pick up some maintenance paperwork. In the process:

-I totally FUBARed (that can be used as a verb, right?) the entry to the traffic pattern, which Andy said was just plain awful (and I agree). Unacceptable for tomorrow.
-Had a decent cross-wind landing at Monroe after a go-around.
-Found out that the pitot-static/altimeter on the airplane was very overdue and subsequently freaked out.
-Discovered that the pitot-static/altimeter inspection is only required for IFR flight (FAR 91.411).
-In the relief that the pitot-static/altimeter check did NOT in fact have to be done, left the very paperwork we came for on the desk in Monroe.
-Flew back to Monroe in snow/rain, and had to let Andy land it cause of the winds (humiliating - I'm sure Andy thinks I'm an awful pilot)
-Finally returned to Concord. I need to destress.

Hobbs: 2.1
Landings: 1 day, 3 night

Review with Jim

2006-11-20T21:50:00.000-05:00

On Sunday night, I met Jim at Concord at 9:30 to review for the oral portion of the checkride. We covered as many little details as possible, dug through the FAR/AIM, the POH, and the PTS finding obscure tidbits that the DE might ask me. We also went over some handy mnemonic acronyms (TOMATO FLAMES; FLAPS; AVIATE; IM SAFE, etc.). We also took care of some last minute paperwork issues (the 87-10, form, for example) and just in general made sure I was ready to rumble for the checkride. We stayed at Concord till about 1:15, and then called it a night. Jim gave me a ringing endorsement, too: "I've never had a student fail a test," he said, "and I'm not signing you off on the edge [of failure] here. You're going to pass." Probably just CFI encouragement.

The weather (part II)

2006-11-18T21:43:00.000-05:00

Things are starting to look better. Wind forecast has dropped to 12; chance of rain has dropped to 20%, and the forecast is for sunny skies. If the wind calms down a bit more, I'll feel pretty good about it. The thing I want to be careful about, though, is turbulence. My maneuvers today were NOT good with the moderate turbulence; I need to remember to check the SIGMET the morning of the checkride (and possibly get an outlook briefing the night before).

The plane

2006-11-18T21:38:00.000-05:00

While dispatching my flight today, I happened to check the squawks for 7UY. The results were not pretty:

-Airworthiness Directive (AD) 80-04-03 R2 within 12.8 Tachometer-hours (estimated 11/22/06)
-AD 87-20-03 R2 within 12.8 Tach-hrs (estimated 11/22/06)
-100 Hour inspection within 12.8 Tach-hrs (estimated 11/22/06)
-Oil Change within 3.0 Tach-hrs (estimated 11/19/06)

So basically, I have to keep my fingers crossed that theres a good 2.5-3.0 Tach hrs. between me and those ADs/100hr. when the checkride arrives. I asked Jim to look into it, and hopefully some people might be able to move over to 68D to make sure I can get it done. Here's hoping!

The written

2006-11-18T21:12:00.000-05:00

Ever since I started flying at Davidson (or really, since I started flying), AirDoog terms of financial support were that I pass the written ASAP. Well, that didn't work too well (two jobs over the summer, and school pressures this semester prevented me). So I arranged to take the test today, and crammed for the past few weeks (going over every single FAA question). Naser, the instructor at Monroe who is a certified proctor for CATS (the testing service company), met me at Monroe, and (somewhat-nervously) went through the whole set-up process with me. The security for the test is stricter than the freaking SAT; Naser had to check almost everything I brought into the room with me. Jeez. Despite the nerve-wracking formalities, once the test was underway things went really well. I breezed through all 60 questions in about 30 minutes, reviewed them for about 10 minutes (there were 4 tricky ones) then finished the test. The grade? 97%. Mark was very pleased (he had actually endorsed me to take it at the end of the summer), and I'm happy to have the test out of the way.

The flight

2006-11-18T19:53:00.000-05:00

Today's flight was a solo (the first solo in a while, actually) to practice all the checkride maneuvers and hopefully make them a little less sloppy. The weather seemed like it would cooperate - relatively calm winds on the surface (and aloft, according to ADDS), great viz, and clear skies. Should've checked the SIGMETs, though, because the turbulence up there was relatively strong, and it was pretty difficult to hold altitudes and headings to PTS. Damn.

Coming out of Concord, I decided to do a short-field take-off, which I'd botched with Jim the other day. This time I executed it well, and soon I was climbing (like crazy) out to the northeast. I warmed-up by trimming the aircraft for 3000 feet (sort of) and then executing standard-rate turns back and forth. Though I was having trouble holding my altitudes and rolling out of turns on time - I think the winds were really variable, and hurt this - I decided to move onto slow flight. The turbulence made slow flight incredibly difficult, and I got blown around like a kite by the winds. Damn. My speeds and altitudes were to PTS, but I struggled with the turns. Next up: power off stalls. I executed well, but, like on slow flight, headings were tough to hold, especially coming out of the stall. Passable, though, I'd say. Moving on to power off stalls, I had Sundowner-like trouble inducing a stall (literally had the airspeed at like 35 without stalling)...finally got one to happen, and corrected pretty well, but again with some trouble on the heading.

Starting to get frustrated with my inability to maintian some precision in my control, I pulled the power on myself. Using some smoke as my wind indication, I found a great field, and trimmed for best glide, and went through the checklist very calmly. At 500 feet AGL, I was established on final and had the field made, so I executed my go-around. Instead of climbing all the way back up to maneuvering altitude, I decided to do ground reference maneuvers. Since the winds were tricky, I made them quick (I also had trouble finding good spots), but executed very passable turns around a point and S-turns. I'm getting pretty happy with my ground reference maneuvers. I climbed back up, executed a set of nearly-perfect steep turns (Andy's trick of 2 swipes of nose up trim is awesome), and then did a practice diversion to EQY.

The pattern at Monroe was kind of busy, but I made my way on downwind for 5. My first landing absolutely sucked - hard impact, bad flare, very student-pilot like, and definitely not to PTS - but undeterred, I went back up. My next landing wasn't great, but better (the crazy climb performance made it difficult to descend well, and the variable/turbulent winds made it tough to fly a good pattern). Finally, on my 3rd landing, I flew a decent pattern and stuck my short-field landing right on the thousand-footers. My next landing was AWFUL (worst since that one in 5268D) due to a crosswind that snuck up on me. After that, I got 3 or 4 good ones (short, soft, and regular) in a row. Then, for whatever reason, I flew two horrible patterns and was forced to go around each time. Frustrated with my inability/inconsistency, I left the pattern and cruised for a bit, before coming back to take the written (I stuck the last landing, too - not shabby).

I'll blog about the written in a minute, but I came out from Fly Carolina Monroe with the sun setting gorgeously to the southwest, and the winds a LOT tamer (thankfully). Climb out and cruise back to Concord were smooth, and I stuck a combo short/soft field landing on the thousand footers at Concord (tower was even nice enough to show me the light gun!), and called it a day.

Overall, I was frustrated by the weather (not good), but still performed my maneuvers and takeoffs pretty well (landings were too inconsistent though). One more flight before the checkride (maybe).

Hobbs/Solo/PIC: 3.3
Landings: 8

Before I blog the day's flying activities...

2006-11-18T19:19:00.000-05:00

I'd like to mention that 2 weeks ago, back when the football gods shined upon Louisville, the so-called "sports-writers" said that UofL had no business in the national championship game. Their reasoning? Louisville gave up over 400 yards to WVU, and 34 points to boot. Such a defense has NO business in the national championship game. Well, listen up, you Big-East-bashing assholes. A little team you might've heard of called Ohio State (THE Ohio State, if you're an NFL player with an IQ of 73), played the University of Michigan. Matchup of 2 top 5 teams - just like WVU and UL. Both teams gave up over 400 yards (in fact, UM gave up over 500). And the combined score? 81 points. In the WVU/UL game? 78 - 3 points less. So, if UL had no business in the championship game (before the Rutgers loss), clearly neither OSU nor UM does. So who gets to play? Well Rutgers would be a good choice - their D (supposedly the best measure of a championship team) is excellent.

The weather

2006-11-17T12:50:00.000-05:00

When we first scheduled the checkride for the twenty first, the weather was forecast as clear, with winds from the north at seven mph and 0% chance of precip. This morning, weather.com has the forecast for "light showers" (30% chance of rain) with the wind from the north at 17mph! Not cool. Here's hoping it clears up.

BAI finished off with an ILS

2006-11-17T11:16:00.000-05:00

I met Jim at Concord for my second-to-last dual lesson before the checkride around 4:30 on Thursday. Since Andy had “raked me over the coals” on my preflight last time, Jim let me dash outside and preflight without him. Despite a couple minor nicks and dings that I’d never noticed before (and that I double checked with Jim), 7UY was ready to fly, and Jim and I got her fired up to make the most of our daylight (even though the beacon was on when we took off).

I botched the short field take-off (forgot to hold the brakes, dropped the flaps too soon – poop), but we were soon climbing through the VERY windy air (winds 240 at 13 gusting 20 on the surface) to the northwest. We avoid the Foggles for a while so that we can do ground ref. while the sun is still up. I’m excited about doing the maneuvers in this wind. In calmer winds, it’s hard to “feel” when the wind is affecting you, and as a consequence the maneuver is difficult to execute. With the stronger wind, I was able to “feel” the wind, and, as a result, my turns around a point were spot on (and when they weren’t, I was really able to tell. Jim keeps emphasizing that knowing when you’ve messed up is equally important to actually performing to PTS).

We then switched to other aerial maneuvers – stalls (went much better, but still a bit sloppy), slow flight (got distracted – grrr – but did fine once I gained my altitude back), steep turns (perfect) and emergency procedures (excellent, but Jim wants me to take the word “could” out of my “investigate” so say “Check mags, left, right, both” instead of “We could next check the mags…”).

So with the fun stuff done, we switched to the final bit of BAI that I needed for the requirement. I put the Foggles on, and we started with basic turns, before Jim told me to put my head down – unusal attitudes. Jim took it pretty easy on me, and both my corrections were perfect. So with those done (hopefully for a long time), Jim asked me to dial in and track the Charlotte VOR. Setting 115.0 in Nav 1 and adjusting the OBS, I found that we were on the 030-ish radial of the VOR. However, I’d dialed in 210 (meaning that we were getting a “To” reading and were thus reverse sensing). While reverse sensing, tracking a VOR requires the pilot to do the opposite of the needle (if the needle moves left, the pilot needs to go to the right – essentially, the position of the needle indicates the pilot’s position).

Once I’d gotten all of this straight in my head, Jim called up Concord and told them that we were inbound for landing. Adjusting the OBS, Jim captured the localizer and glideslope for the ILS into runway 20 – I was shooting my first instrument approach! The wind was still from 240, and still pretty strong, so we got blown off to the left (in the ILS, we were true sensing, meaning that in order to keep the sticks in the ball, I had to chase the needles). Even still, when Jim had me break out, the runway was right in front of me, and I was set up for landing (AirDoog had described that feeling of seeing the runway being right where it’s supposed to be as one of the most gratifying parts of IFR flight). I crabbed, and then established a slip to correct the crosswind, but we still landed a bit sideloaded (like all of my landings lately, though, altitude or speed has not been much of a problem, which is good). Nevertheless, the landing turned out pretty well for my first ILS ever.

Now it’s time to study hardcore for the written. Tomorrow (Saturday), I’ll be doing a three hour practice flight (or so), and then taking the written in Monroe. I’ve got a dual with Andy on Monday afternoon, and hopefully some oral review with Jim on Sunday night. Basically, I’m totally dominated by the checkride right now. T-minus 3 days…

Hobbs: 1.4
Night: 1.4
BAI: .6
Approaches: JQF ILS 20
Landings: 1

Study study study

2006-11-16T14:56:00.000-05:00

My life is dominated by the three tests.

Stuff still to work on:
-Master ground ref. maneuvers
-Work on weather (especially all the charts...arggg)
-Relearn take-off/landing distances

I'm supposed to be flying today at 4:30, but the winds are pretty strong. I'm up for it for Jim is, and I hope he is. Should be easier to learn ground ref. maneuvers with the wind strong. We'll see how it goes.

Destination for the checkride x/c...

2006-11-15T12:55:00.000-05:00

...has been chosen! The DE asked me to plan "at least a couple hours away" (according to Jim) which presents a challenge. North is tough to do, because that requires purchasing another sectional chart. West (esp. southwest) is out of the question because of the mountains and the Bravo class. South is tough because of the MOAs in SC, and going east there's just not that much room. I finally picked Northeastern Regional Airport in Edenton, NC, way out on the coast. It's a little over 200 nautical miles (so it should take about 2 hours - good thing I don't have to fly it!), and by some miralce is a straight shot from Concord, avoiding some of the more complicated airpsace in central NC. Plenty of good checkpoints along the way, too. Should be a fun one to plan.

Checkride angst is killing me...

Checkride practice flight #1

2006-11-15T09:14:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the lack of update yesterday, but it was basically because of this flight that I wasn't able to post - more on this in a minute - and also because my Tuesday nights are the busiest of the week. I met Andy (the same CFI that had reviewed my long x/c planning) at JQF at 930 (actually, just a few minutes late since I'd stopped at Target on the way to pick up Mark Hoppus' new band's CD). Anyway, I told him what my goals for the day were: knock out some more BAI (including unusual attitudes), and a review of all aerial maneuvers. I also asked Andy to come out and pre-flight with me, so that I could go over that in preparation for the practical.

Grabbing a pair of Foggles, we went outside, where I walked Andy through my exterior pre-flight inspection. He was able to stump me on a few questions, most of which I'd just never heard before (one I should've gotten: why the prop blade is twisted), but he said my overall pre-flight inspection was excellent. So we started up and taxied to 20. As we did, I talked Andy through everything I was doing, as if he were the DE. Once we got to 20 (and did our runup, etc.), tower cleared us to go and I put us out on the runway. My takeoff was not great (how often is a takeoff considered bad?), but because the air was so cold, the plane shot up, making it difficult to hold Vy. I eventually got there, and, after climbing to 500 feet AGL, we turned on course. Andy asked me to go ahead and put the foggles on, so that I could knock out as much time as possible under the hood.

When we reached our altitude, Andy asked me if I'd ever had a vestibular demonstration (essentially, the instructor has you close you eyes, and then does some crazy stuff with the airplane to make you feel different than the instruments tell you). I replied in the negative, and when he did it, I literally had a pain in my inner ear. Freaky. Convinced that I should always obey the instruments, and not my spinning head, we moved on to correcting unusual attitudes. This basically involves the same thing as the vestibular demonstration (me closing my eyes and Andy messing with the plane), except I then have to correct the problem. It's pretty easy to do - if airpseed is going way high, you're in a dive, so you power to idle, level the wings, and pitch for the horizon; if airspeed is going down the tubes, full power, pitch to the horizon and then level the wings. Easier said than done though, beacuse when the airplane is going freaky its easy to lose your concentration. My first one wasn't great (a dive, and I pitched up while leveling the wings), but we did 4 or 5 more and they were all fantastic. We also went over some partial panel stuff (turns on compass, etc.).

Next, Andy had me take the foggles off for a bit, and fly VFR - basically an excuse to pull the power on me, which I'd asked him to do. I immediately snapped into emergency mode - Aviate, Navigate, Investigae, Communicate - and trimmed the plane for best glide, found a great field almost right below us (and started us on a right 360 to get there) and as we circled lower, investigated the potential cause of the problem, and then talked through our emergency communcations. As we rounded out the corner, Andy had me go around. An excellent and very passable emergency procedures.

We then went through a review of aerial maneuvers. My slow flght went pretty well (turning to headings, holding speed and altitude, etc.), my stalls needed refreshing but eventually came around, and my steep turns were pretty bad. Not half as bad as my ground reference maneuvers, though. By the time we got to those, though, my stomach and head were so FUBAR from the maneuvers that I could hardly think (I almost felt like puking), and I suggested that we call it a day (I felt bad for the rest of the day, and ended up skipping a class and taking a nap. I didn't feel all the way better until about 10pm).

I put the Foggles back on to fly back to Concord, and Andy gave me heading/altitudes and made our radio calls as we got closer. Tower told us to fly a left base for 20, and when we were 2 miles out on base Andy had me break out. I started the landing sequence and spotted the traffic - a Lear Jet - who we were then cleared to land behind. The lear flared over the threshold and touched down on the numbers, so I chose the thousand footers as my touchdown point for another shortfield landing. On 1 mile final, we were looking good by all measures, and right on track for our point, when tower cleared a plane to takeoff! Andy and I looked at each other, and my mind shot into action. With a hand on the flaps/throttle ready to go-around, I called tower: "7uniformyankeeonshortfinalrunwaytwozero." Had the tower hesitated even a second on the response, I would've pushed the throttle in for the go-around; fortunately, the very-relieved (and somewhat scared controller) told the other plane to hold-short (any hesitation by that pilot and I would've gone around as well) and we finished our landing very safely - and right on the thousand footers, I might add (this gives me confidence - I made a great landing in 7UY without flying it in several weeks; I think I'll be able to execute my landings really well in the plane). Tower thanked us, and we taxied to the ramp.

Overall, I didn't feel particularly check-ride ready today, although this could be expected. My manuevers ought to be rusty. But my overall flying (positive control) and knowledge were pretty good. More practice on Thursday with Jim, and then plenty of practice on Saturday as well.

Lessons of the day:
- Look outside more
- Don't focus too much on one thing
- Use more rudder (a little tough to get used to in 7UY, which actually has manageable rudders, unlike 68D)
- Don't do so many crazy maneuvers in a row (especially on an empty stomach)

Hobbs: 1.8
BAI: .8
Landings: 1

The written

2006-11-13T17:52:00.000-05:00

I'm on for the written test on Saturday at 3:30pm...now I have to study all that stuff again.

Which plane to use?

2006-11-13T14:54:00.000-05:00

It's a trickier question than you might think. Each of the Skyhawks that I've flown has their pros and cons. Let's take a look at the numbers:

Obviously, 3899Q and 65741 should be ruled out immediately, because I've only flown them once (the fact that they're housed elsewhere doesn't help). 5268D looks tempting because I've logged so much time in it, but most of that has been x/c, and I've always found the plane difficult to land. Combine this with the fact that the plane has a new engine (thus no stalls, slow flight, etc.) and she must be ruled out. This leaves two planes: 7419G and 737UY. Each plane has options that make it tempting:

7419G
- First 172 I ever flew in
- By far the easiest to land of any plane I've flown

737UY
- Very well-rounded (good performance all around)
- First 172 I soloed in
- Not the easiest plane to land, but definitely not the most difficult
- Based at JQF

There are cons to each one as well:

7419G
- Based in Gastonia, meaning an early morning to get her to Concord
- She's really, really old (and somewhat ghetto)

737UY
- Scratchy intercom would make it difficult to communicate with the DE
- Not as easy to land as 19G

In the end, I've decided to use 737UY and save myself the drive. All 3 of my flights this week are in that plane (because I have to practice stalls etc.), so I should be used to her quirks by the time the checkride rolls around.

Now, time to call Dick Kruse (the head of Fly Carolina) who's going to think I'm sketchy as hell for not calling him back over a month ago when I tried to schedule the written the first time.

The end is upon us

2006-11-13T14:40:00.000-05:00

During my last flight, I asked Jim where he thought I stood regarding the checkride. He said that he thought that with just a bit more practice (and the 1.3 BAI) I'd be ready, and said that we should go ahead and schedule it if I wanted it done before Thanksgiving. Wow. We spoke the next day, and I suggested Tuesday the 21st of November, the day before Thanksgiving break begins. Jim had already spoken to the Designated Examiner (DE) and seemed to think that this would work. Sure enough, Jim called back on Sunday to say that this would work. He also passed along the instructions from the DE:

- Plan an x/c at least 2 hours away (that's a long way - I think he wants to see how my fuel planning is)
- The DE claims a weight of 165 pounds (weight and balance anyone?)
- He wants takeoff and landing distance at JQF and my destination with and without an obstacle. Jeez.

So this leaves me with 8 days to get a lot done. Here's the list:

- 1.3 hours of BAI flight.
- Review of all maneuvers (stalls, slow flight, steep turns, ground ref., short/soft field take-offs/landings)
- Take that goddamn written
- Plan everything for the practical
- Cram

Fortunately, real school is fairly kind to me over the next 8 days (2, maybe 3, tests) in a period that could be deadly (with papers, much worse than tests). I have three flights scheduled this week (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday); two dual, one solo. So it looks like I'll be taking the practical with less than 50 hours experience, something I'm fairly proud of because the national average is up around 70 (although Mark passed with 40.0). There's lots to do, and I'll probably update this blog once a day until the checkride, and possibly after (I plan on doing a good bit of flying over Thanksgiving).

Down Under

2006-11-13T14:01:00.000-05:00

Under the hood, that is. The only time requirement that I am yet to fulfill for the PPL is the 3 hours of Basic Attitude Instrumentation (BAI). Essentially, you go up with an instructor, who puts a view-limiting device on you (formerly a nasty hood, but now the sleek and stylish Foggles!) and then you fly the airplane where the instructor says, maintaining straight and level, yada yada. The point is to practice for an accidental encounter with IMC. Mark had put me under the hood once during the summer (on a nastily humid day, which, combined with my horrible BAI/piloting skills almost made my tag-along girlfriend puke), so I already had a bit of BAI time logged. That was a long time ago, though, and a lot can happen in 3 months. Like, for instance, you can actually get good at flying.

So Jim and I went up on a lovely Thursday afternoon, with clear skies and smooth sailing forecast for the day. Unfortunately, I would not be enjoying the view because I would be in simulated IMC. Jim decided to add another twist to my BAI time as well: diversions. A diversion is basically where the pilot finds out that the weather at his destination has crapped up on him, and that he therefore must deviate to another, nearby airport, which basically involves half-a-dozen calculations on the E6B in flight. No sweat. So I pulled up my old x/c planning to Siler City, filled in the new winds data, and Jim and I took off. After we passed our top of climb checkpoint, Jim gave me the Foggles, and then asked me to divert him to Stanley County Airport a delta class 30 miles east of Concord or so. Since it was my first diversion, Jim offered to take the flight controls while I went through the caculations: initial diversion heading; true course corrected for mag. deviation; wind correction angle and ground speed, time enroute, and fuel burn. I then grabbed the AFD, looked up the AWOS and CT frequencies, got them programmed, and then took the controls back from Jim. When we got to my calculated ETA, Jim had me "break out" of the clouds and start looking for the airport. Using the sectional as my reference, I started picking out landmarks that might help me find the airport. Finally, with a little hint from Jim, I found the airport. We descended to altitude, called the tower (where a student controller was very obviously working) and got in a quick landing on runway 4R (my first time ever landing on a L/R runway). Jim had me try to set the plane down on the thousand-footers (as practice for my short-field) but I overshot them by about 500 feet. Oh well.

We touch-and-goed out of VUJ, and Jim put the foggles on me almost immediately. Indicating our position on the sectional, he asked me to divert him to Davidson County. "Oh yeah," he added, "and you have the flight controls." Oookay. Davidson county (the location of the esteemed community college for which Davidson College is so often confused) was essentially due-north, so I steered the plane for 340, then started making calculations. I was done sooner than last time, and Jim suggested that I use the extra time to use VORs to cross-check my position. Dialing in a couple, I found that we were exactly where I thought we were. Sweet. When we got to my ETA time, Jim told me to break out because we were literally on top of the airport. Sweet! We skipped the landing this time, and did one last diversion to a small, private field. I performed this one to spec as well, putting us right on top of the field.

So with diversions covered, I asked Jim to (finally) teach me ground reference manuevers. These maneuvers (rectangular course, steep turns, turns around a point) are technically supposed to be done before a pilot solos (Jim loves to make fun of Mark for this), but due to whatever reason, I never got them done. Oh well. I had reviewed them in the Airplane Flying Handbook the night before, so Jim didn't really even have to explain them to me. I found them pretty intuitive, and after a few go-throughs on each one, we were heading back to Concord.

By this point, the sun had set, and dusk had taken over for daylight. Jim put the foggles back on me, and I flew BAI (but using the Loran for data) back to Concord. In contrast to the summer, I found BAI to be simple this time. After getting things trimmed out, I was able to keep the airplane straight and level extremely easily. When I broke out, I could see the resevoir to the north of JQF, and the flash of the green/white beacon. We called tower, who directed us to runway 2. Excited that I would get to make a night landing, Jim asked me to try the thousand-footers short-field again. I came in high, but killed the power early and set the plane down right in between the marks, in one of my softest landings ever. Freakin' sweet. So now all I need is 1.3 more hours of BAI and some more maneuver practice.

Hobbs: 1.9
BAI: 1.3
Night: .4
Landings: 1 day, 1 night

A long way from home

2006-11-08T14:46:00.000-05:00

I decided to complete the next phase of training – a long solo cross-country – on Friday November 3. I planned a direct flight to and back from KCRE in Myrtle Beach, SC, with a stop at lovely KBBP, Marlboro County Regional on the way home. I figured that if I had to go 100 miles, I might as well go to the beach (just to say I’d done it).

I was able to plan a straight-line route (133.6 nautical miles) to Grand Strand from Concord, and there were also a number of good checkpoints along the way (especially KBBP, which has an NDB on the field, a checkpoint I couldn’t miss if I tried). As if that wasn’t enough, CRE has a VOR on the field, which I could always home if I somehow got lost.

Because Jim was booked for Friday afternoon, I had to have another instructor (Andy Rieslet) review my planning. Andy was more thorough than Jim, and even verified a few of my calculations (Jim said this would probably be the case, since Andy didn’t know how “sharp” I am as a pilot). We were a little bit worried about the weather. Though VFR conditions prevailed along the route of flight, winds at JQF and CRE were a little bit worrisome. At JQF they were basically right down the runway at 12 (within the limits of my endorsement) but at CRE they were basically a direct cross wind at 11 gusting 17. Andy seemed to think that even this would be OK, but one last check before departure showed that the winds had calmed down to 7 and had shifted to be more in line with the runway.

So with the requisite paperwork in hand, I made my way back out to N5268D, the plane that gave me fits on my first flight in it but that I’ve grown to love since. For one thing, she doesn’t have the goofy aluminum sunshields, meaning it’s about ten times easier to get her ready / put her away. In addition, she flies really, really well - at least cross-country. Once again, pre-flight, start-up and take-off were all pretty standard. Concord tower gave me the flight following I’d requested, and before long, I was once again under the watchful eyes of Charlotte Departure. When I told Charlotte that I was staying lower to avoid the Bravo, they gave me a clearance into the Bravo (I didn't feel obligated to tell them that I was a student pilot) and told me to climb to five thousand, which I held for some time until I was cleared up to my filed cruising altitude, 7500 (the highest I’d ever been in a plane I was flying).

Like last time, I found that I was able to find my position based on the chart and on my surrounding (a very encouraging feeling), but I also found that the winds were more northerly than I expected, and I was being blown to the south. No matter – a few corrections based on my checkpoints (especially a road, where I was able to use a curve and two water towers to find the exact spot I should have crossed it) got me back on course. The NDB at KBBP kept me on course, too. I crossed that NDB soon enough, and with the ADF pointing right behind me, I started using the CRE VOR as my only radio navaid. Charlotte handed me off to Fayetteville, who shortly handed me off to Florence (the Delta airport with the nearby VOR about 2/3 way down my course). I began my descent shortly after getting handed off to Myrtle Beach approach (LiveATC archive of my time with Myrtle – I come in about 2 minutes in, N5268D). I couldn’t find the airport, though I could see where it should be based on the international airport (to the south) and an interstate. Fortunately, approach advised me that a Baron would be passing me on my left, heading to Grand Strand. Once I had the Baron in sight, all I had to do was follow them in and land behind them - couldn’t be easier. Approach then handed me off to Tower.

Keeping the Baron in sight, I began the preparations for landing, called Tower again to let them know I was on short left base for runway 5, and got clearance to land. Stealing a last glance at the ocean, I flew 68D down to the runway (the winds were much better than they had been when I checked in Concord: variable at 5), flared a little too early, and plopped down on the strip. Not my best work, but not too shabby. I taxied to the ramp, ordered fuel (5 gallons a side, please) and got out to stretch my legs. I also made a few phone calls – Andy, Jim, Jackie, Mark – to announce my safe arrival, and then spent a few minutes in the FBO, where I bought a pretty sweet t-shirt (in addition to 40 bucks worth of gas and 2 snack-sized packs of Cheez-Its; I didn’t eat lunch). Coming back out, I saw – for the first time that I can remember – that my altimeter had both hands on the zeroes. I couldn’t resist a camera-phone picture:

For the first time ever, I had trouble starting a Cessna (the Sundowner had been tricky at times, but the 172s at FlyCarolina generally turn over in 5 seconds). I tried a cold start, then a hot start, but neither worked. Somewhat frustrated, I called Jim to ask for any tips. Thinking I’d over-primed the plane, he suggested a start with the mixture closed and the throttle wide open. This worked immediately, and I quickly got the RPMs (which were basically at takeoff) under control. Being at Grand Strand reminded me of being at Bowman, with an ATIS and a separate frequency for ground (imagine that). The controller granted my request for flight following (Andy had warned me that there was a jerk who worked the tower there sometimes; thankfully, I don’t think I had this guy), and I taxied back to runway 5. Doing a runup in front of me was a brand-spanking-new Columbia 350 – beautiful! After the Columbia had departed, I got clearance to go in front of a Bonanza on long final. I took off, and quickly got handed off to Myrtle Beach departure.

The trip back was not much different that then trip there, except that it was a LOT slower (even at 4500 instead of 7500, the winds were basically right in my face). Nonetheless, I held my course pretty well, and soon enough I had BBP in sight. After a quick landing (there was no one else in the pattern), I took off again and got in touch with Fayetteville, who handed me off almost immediately to Charlotte, who subsequently gave me a teensy bit of vectoring to Concord. So my navigation wasn’t perfect, but isn’t this why we have the ATC system – to give you help when you need it? I soon had the stadium – and then the field – in sight, and got handed off to tower. After asking for the weather / runway in use, Concord cleared me for a right base for runway 2. As I set up my approach, I heard a familiar voice over the radio – Jim – who gave me a cheerful “Welcome back, Wes.” Jim was in a Cirrus with an owner, and once I had him in sight, tower cleared me to land (#2) behind him. My landing at Concord was much better – not too high on the pattern, full stall and pretty smooth. I cleaned up the plane, taxied to the ramp, and actually got to park next to AirDoog, which was stuck in Concord for some repairs. After chatting with Jim for a few minutes, I packed up and went home. What a flight.

Next up: BAI (Basic Attitude Instrumentation – basically going under the hood), deviations, and maneuver review – all dual.

Then the checkride.

Hobbs/Solo/XC: 3.2
Landings: 3

No tricks, all treats

2006-11-01T15:35:00.000-05:00

After a dual cross-country, the student’s next step (and one of the last on the way to the private pilot’s license) is to rack up five hours of solo cross-countries. Although some students like to get this requirement done in a single day, most opt for the less overwhelming route of flying two or three separate cross-countries (usually a short one or two, and one long one). As I belong to the latter group, I planned my first solo cross-country (scheduled for Halloween) to beautiful Siler City Municipal Airport (5W8), about 60 miles northeast of Concord. Though Rockingham is a bit closer, Siler City seemed like an easier first solo because of a preponderance of easy checkpoints along the way (a mine, a big lake, a couple big roads, an airport, etc.)

Like last time, my preparations began the night before as I formulated dead-reckoning direct routes to and from Siler City using forecasted winds aloft (I was surprised at how much improvement I demonstrated in my flight planning the second time around – it took about half as long). In the morning, I checked the weather at both airports (docile winds, CAVU), checked winds aloft again, adjusted my calculations ever-so-slightly, and then made my way to Concord. On the way, Jim called to let me know that he’d meet me at the airport to review my planning and fill out the necessary endorsements. Sweet. I met Jim in the office and we went over a few questions – how to get the weather at 5W8, where there is no AWOS; how to get flight following coming off a non-towered field; etc.). While I was filing my flight plans with Flight Service, Jim filled out the requisite endorsements. When I got off the phone, Jim looked at me and told me to have fun on my flight. At this point, I felt obligated to remind him that he had not actually looked at my planning for the flight. Fantastic. A quick look-see, and I was out the door.

Preflight and start-up were pretty standard. The engine turned over almost immediately, and I could tell she would perform well for me that day. Before calling tower, I dialed in a couple radio nav aids to get me to 5W8 – the Liberty VOR (the airport is on the 144 radial) and the TOX NDB, about 3 miles from the field. On my initial call, I requested flight following to Siler City, which ATC approved (thankfully, since Jim had put “flight following” as one of the conditions of my x/c flight). I took off from Concord, climbed out 500 feet on runway heading, and then turned on course. Tower handed me off to departure almost immediately, and after ident-ing, I was under the watchful eyes of the controllers at CLT. I reached top-of-climb quickly (exactly where I thought I would by my dead-reckoning), and after leveling-off, could already see my next checkpoint – the lake – in the distance.

The air on All Hallows’ Eve was smooth as glass. After adjusting the trim, power and mixture, I was essentially able to fly hands-free until the top of descent. As a result, I felt remarkably in control of the flight. Even better, I was able to use pilotage much better than on my last flight, and could easily identify many of the landmarks below me. Even though I was slightly off-course crossing the lake, I wasn’t worried: I was able to correct easily, and had the NDB and VOR as backup. After a bit, Charlotte handed me off to Greensboro, and that esoteric feeling of isolation that only pilots (and perhaps astronauts) can know came over me. There I was, 3000 feet above the ground and miles from Davidson (much less Louisville), flying by myself in a machine made of metal and tethered to the ground through a radio. Unbelievable.

After passing Asheboro regional airport, I began an excellent 500 feet per minute descent to pattern altitude (1600 feet). I had spotted 5W8 from about 12 miles out, but delayed telling Greensboro a few minutes later. When I called field in sight, they cancelled my flight following and allowed me to go the rest of the way on my own. Since I couldn’t get the AWOS at Asheboro and Siler City didn’t have one, I elected to cut my descent off at 1900 feet, so that I could overfly the field and look at the windsock. Calling my intentions on the CTAF, I flew a downwind for 22 at 1900 feet, but couldn’t see the sock (it was tucked next to some trees, and I only spotted it on final). So I called on the UNICOM for advice, and someone suggested that the winds looked like 22 would be the good choice. As I suspected. I pulled the same move I had done with Jim last week: begin a descent to pattern alt while turning across 22 to join an upwind, and then crossing midfield for the downwind. I came in high on final, but my landing was pretty good (not too bumpy). I taxied into the ramp, told a Seneca who was requesting a radio check that I could hear him, and then turned around to backtaxi to the beginning of 22. To my surprise, the Seneca followed me out onto the runway. Worried that the pilot had lost his mind, I asked him if he wanted me to get out of the way, to which he responded that he wouldn’t be in my way. Oooookay. I then remembered that the airport has little taxiway loops at the end of the runway, on which the Seneca would wait for my departure.

Coming out of Siler City, I called Greensboro again to request flight following, and after some initial communications troubles (maybe because I was too low?), they gave me what I wanted. Like the first leg of the flight, cruise was absolutely effortless at 4500 feet this time around. As a result, I got to spend some time enjoying the beautiful fall foliage from the air. I passed Asheboro on my right wing, and then Stanly County on my left wing as I flew over the lake (it was reassuring for me to know that I could probably glide to a paved runway from my altitude in the event of an engine failure). Before I realized it, I could see the Concord stadium and the thin line of white buildings of JQF. I began my descent (avoiding the Bravo), called the field in sight, and eventually got handed off to tower. My landing at JQF wasn’t any better than my one at 5W8 (little floaty), but it was certainly acceptable. After cleaning the plane up, I called Jim to let him know that I was safe. The flight was one of the most enjoyable of my entire career as a pilot (I say that a lot, don’t I?). I’m already excited about planning the next – longer! – cross-country.

Hobbs/Solo/XC: 1.8
Landings: 2

Beginning of the end

2006-10-25T14:44:00.000-04:00

On October 24, I took my first dual cross-country with Jim. Although technically not my first cross-country time (since Mark and I logged a few hours on our flight to Lexington in August), it was the first cross-country flight I’d planned myself. Jim had hosted a group ground-school session for student pilots covering cross-country navigation a few nights ago. I’d since asked him where we should fly on our first cross-country, and he suggested either Rockingham (RCZ) or Siler City (5W8). I chose the former, as it was the closer of the two airports (and I didn’t want to have to pay for an instructor any longer than necessary).

I began my planning for our flight the night before. During our ground-school session, Jim had covered the basics of navigating by dead-reckoning (a process by which a pilot calculates the times between various checkpoints, such as top of climb and top of descent, etc.). Because RCZ is relatively close to JQF, there were few of the typical airspace obstructions that prevent direct flights (Charlie or Bravo class airspace, Alert or Restricted areas, MOAs, TFRs, etc.), so I planned a straight-line course from field to field. The majority of the cross-country planning process is fairly boring, involving lots of calculations regarding distance, time, winds, altitude, speed, fuel, and other factors that a pilot must take into account during flight. I chose three checkpoints for the flight (top of climb, a tower in the middle of nowhere, and a top of descent) and a cruising altitude of 5500 feet. After calculating all the necessary information (and having Mark review my numbers), I filled out the cross-country planning form and finally got to bed at around 2:30 AM.

The next morning, I hopped out of bed, excited to begin this last phase of flight training known as cross country flight. Scary. I arrived at Concord before Jim, and got out my planning from the night before to review my work. Jim showed up shortly, and we reviewed my work. Jim suggested that we use a cruising altitude of 3500 (to avoid Charlotte’s Bravo), but otherwise said my planning looked good. Jim then told me to call Flight Services (1-800-WX-BRIEF) to file our flight plans, something I’d never done before but heard Doog do a hundred times. I spoke with the briefer, who gave me a general overview of the weather picture, and then went out to pre-flight the airplane. Jim and I were going up in 5268D, the plane I’d had so much trouble in on my last flight. I preflighted, and Jim joined me shortly. After a little trouble getting the plane started (probably due to the cold), we were ready to go.

For the first leg of our flight (to Rockingham), I requested flight following, a radar service similar to that given to planes on IFR flights. Basically, one controller hands you off to the next as you fly along, ensuring that you are always on someone’s radar screen and radio. With flight following, we had no need to open our flight plan, and Jim and I proceeded on course, listening to Charlotte departure. The weather that day was deceitful. Although the sky was clear and the visibility was essentially unlimited, the winds aloft were strong and the air was still quite turbulent behind the large front that had moved through several days before. This made holding our course difficult, and we eventually gave up dead-reckoning in favor of pilotage (a navigation system whereby a pilot determines his position and course based on the physical surroundings of the plane. We had been blown well south of course (to the point that Anson County airport was off our left wing rather than our right). Using pilotage, Jim and I followed a river until we had the field in sight, using the extended center-line of Anson Co. as our new top of descent checkpoint.

As we arrived at Rockingham, it became apparent that I had either copied the wrong AWOS frequency, of that the AWOS was out of order (I will stick with the latter explanation for the rest of my life). As a result, we made a decision to climb out of pattern altitude, and overfly the field to look at the windsock. Runway 31 was the winner, with the windsock pointing right down it. We called this information (and our position) to another plane approaching the field, and I began the landing process. We had overflown the field on essentially a downwind for runway 31, but 500 feet higher than pattern altitude. So I pulled the power back, curled around the end of the runway to join the upwind leg of the pattern, crossed the runway just before midfield, and entered the downwind right at 1400 feet. Rock on. Because I had cut so sharply, though, we were almost immediately abeam of the numbers, and I barely had time to get the carb heat on before pulling the power back 1500 RPMs, adding the first notch of flaps, and beginning our final descent. The plane was still very fast from our rapid descent from 1900 feet, so I had to add a lot of backpressure to slow her down. As a result, I was high on final, so I used one of my favorite tricks: power to idle until the PAPI/VASI reads red/white, and then slowly add the power back in. It worked like a charm, and I greased the landing on with the stall-horn blaring, earning a “Nice job” from Jim.

Quite satisfied, we taxied back to the beginning of the runway (sort-of, the taxiway met the 5000 foot strip about 800 feet from the threshold). I asked Jim if I could practice a soft-field takeoff (since it’d been a while) and he gave me the OK. I added full backpressure, held the center line, then let the plane fly in ground effect while it built up speed until we pulled out of ground effect at Vx – a well-executed soft-field. Knowing that the winds were stronger than anticipated, we made an effort to correct for them on the way back, but nevertheless got blown off course a bit. Fortunately, the excellent viz allowed us to spot the race stadium near JQF from about 40 miles out. I began our descent a little early (to avoid the Bravo, once again), and called Concord from 11 miles out to get clearance. Since the AWOS at Concord was also not functioning (a bad day for AWOSes, I guess), tower delivered the scary report: winds were 330 (a nearly direct cross-wind component) at 12 gusting 17. Oh boy. I was especially nervous because the comparatively mild cross-wind at Concord on my last flight had screwed me up so badly. This was going to be fun, and I told Jim I might need his help on the landing.

We came in to Concord essentially on right base for runway 2. About 2 miles out, I pulled the power back and added the first of two notches of flaps (20 degrees of flaps in cross winds, to help the airplane get on the ground a little more easily). Then came the turn for final. Immediately, the wind started buffeting the airplane. Tower called up and said that the winds were now 330 at 13 gusting 17. Even better. Jim called back to ask if they could hold off on the gusts while we tried to land, a joke that might have been funny if I wasn’t so focused on landing the plane. For most of the final, I crabbed into the wind (meaning I pointed my nose into the wind, so that wind would keep me on a straight line path for the runway). Even crabbing 30-35 degrees into the wind, though, didn’t prevent the wind from blowing us to the right of center-line. Jim and I couldn’t help but laugh at this point. On half-mile final, I switched to a slip (wing lower into the wind, opposite rudder) as we got rocked by one last gust of wind. With the rudder nearly at the floor, the slip was much better at holding the center-line (only moving slightly to the right, which I corrected fairly easily) and the plane came down almost magically – soft, slow, and on center-line. In 13 mph cross-wind. That’s right. This time, Jim was much more vocal with his praise, belting out a “FREAKING nice job, man” as I cleaned up the plane. Tower even called up with a compliment: “You landed that like the winds were calm,” he said to Jim. Jim called back to explain that he hadn’t touched the controls – it had been all me. In my somewhat-limited flight experience, I have never heard ATC publicly compliment someone like that over the radio. The thrill still hasn’t worn off.

So that was my first “real” cross-country. Jim said I could now go ahead and work on planning my solo cross-countries, meaning that with five hours of that and a few polish-up flights, I will finally be ready for the checkride. Unbelievable.

Hobbs/XC: 1.6
Landings: 2

Pictures, and another (Sky)hawk

2006-10-14T00:57:00.000-04:00

Coming off of Davidson’s fall break, I couldn’t have picked a more perfect day to go flying weather-wise than Friday October 13th. A vicious storm system had moved through Wednesday night and Thursday morning, leaving crystal clear skies, cool temperatures, light winds and unlimited visibilities for those fortunate enough to be in the air on Thursday and Friday:

Despite the fact that the day was Friday the 13th, I felt good about flying. My last few flights had all been excellent, with landings to die for. However, things don’t always turn out the way you hope.

To start things off, it’s the race weekend at Concord Speedway. That means there are jets, banner-towers and helicopters galore around KJQF. For one weekend, the delta class becomes charlie. Traffic, however, didn’t worry me very much – I planned on spending most of my time over Davidson and at Monroe, practicing landings. I also planned on being in 737UY – not my favorite plane, but an old friend nonetheless. However, someone (I’m not naming names, Jim) had allowed the master switch to be left on for who knows how long. The battery was dead as could be when I got to the plane. Fantastic. I went back to the FlyCarolina office, and asked Jim about my predicament. The only other Skyhawk on the field, N5268D, has just recently had a new engine put in it, and, as a result, is not allowed to be in any “hard flying” (stalls, slow flight, approaches, landings, etc.). It was clear, though, that Jim felt bad about 7UY, and told me I could take 68D up, so long as I didn’t do too many landings. Sure thing.

One might be tempted to wonder just how much difference there is between particular planes of the same model. A Skyhawk is a Skyhawk, right? Not so much. Each engine performs a bit differently, and each aircraft has little subtleties that must be discovered before or during flight. 68D, for example, has flimsy rudder pedals and a difficult-to-control pitch trim. I preflighted her and started her up, telling myself the whole time that I could NOT forget my transponder – there was too much traffic to get scolded for that old problem. Well, of course I forgot it, but managed to turn it on just before rotation. Wonderful.

Once I was up, though, I was reminded of just how much I love to fly. Nothing quite compares to watching the earth recede below you, feeling the sky surround you, and watching as the Earth reveals herself as she does only to pilots. The viz was so good, that I could see all the way to the mountains, and could easily pick out downtown Charlotte 15 miles south of me. It’s absolutely beautiful, and I could really spend my life up here.

I made my way over to Davidson for my usual sightseeing trip, and took a picture or two before cutting southeast to go to Monroe (EQY) for a couple landings.

My first landing at Monroe was high and hot, and I floated quite a bit. The touchdown was not particularly gentle, either. I had planned on only doing one landing, but I thought I should solve my problem before heading back to Concord. I took off and flew the pattern, but my second attempt at landing was so bad that I had to go around. In fact, it was obvious I would have to before I even got close to the runway, so I aborted the landing pretty quickly. So much for taking it easy on the engine. Finally, on my third try, I was able to set her down in a somewhat acceptable manner. Satisfied, I took off for Concord.

At this point, Friday the 13th came knocking in the form of (yet another) red-tailed hawk. I was busy checking a few things in the cockpit – trim, frequencies, instruments – when I looked up to discover the hawk about 20 feet dead in front of me. I was on a head on collision for a dead bird and maybe a dead me – not good. I could hear only one thing in my mind though – Mark telling me that birds will almost always dive in such a situation. Instinctively, I pulled back on the yoke, and sure enough, the hawk dove. We missed by 15-20 feet at the most. With a pounding heart, I called on the CTAF to tell the other planes in the pattern about the hawk hovering 500 feet AGL at about the downwind turn for runway five. I just don’t understand why hawks try to kill me on a regular basis in the air. (I called Mark later to thank him for saving my life, and his response was “That’s pretty cool man. I mean, not that you almost died, but that you did the right thing. Way to go.”).

Having dodged the aerial hazard, I was given a clearance for a straight-in landing for runway two at Concord. I set up my approach quite well, flying on the PAPI from about 7 miles out, and crabbing into the direct crosswind. Then things went haywire. I’m not sure how it happened, but I basically ended up touching down on the back left wheel (followed by the other two), extremely crooked. It was not a dangerous landing because I was at perfect landing speed, just really, REALLY ugly. Since my landings in 7419G and 737UY are spot-on, I attribute it partially to the cross-wind but mostly to the unfamiliar performance feel of the plane. The important thing is to remember that everyone has bad landings, and that I need to get back on the horse, rather than get discouraged. Hopefully next time the horse will be 737UY.

Hobbs/Solo/PIC: 1.4
Landings: 3

Night - check

2006-10-06T22:01:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I made my way over to Concord to finish my night flying requirement with Jim. Since I already had 2.6 hours night with six landings from the trip to Lexington with Mark over the summer, the trip was to be a quick one. We decided to take 7419G, which is actually my favorite airplane to fly. For some reason, it just flies nicely, and lands even more nicely (nicelier?). I always seem to be able to put it down softly, even when my patterns/flares aren't the best. Last night, a cold front made its way through the area, and the weather today reflected it - low scattered clouds, and cold, gusting winds - sometimes up to 25 knots! By the time we got the plane going - after a very chilly pre-flight - the winds had settled down (from 010 at 7, I think - easy going for runway 2 @ Concord).

I felt pretty polished today, remembering all my pre-flight and emergency briefings, which I think impressed Jim. Even more impressive, though, was the way I stuck my patterns and landings. 2/20 is a 7400 foot strip; on each stop and go we touched down very softly enough to be FULLY stopped with 5500+ feet left on the strip - definitely increasing my confidence for landing at short strips, etc. Jim remarked that my landings were very nice, and before I knew it, we'd done 4 - satisfying the night requirement for the private pilot's license.

Night/Hobbs: .5
Landings: 4

Clear skies, clear head

2006-10-04T01:12:00.000-04:00

October 2 was a horrible day for me personally. I don't want to go into the details, so let's just say it was crappy. Crappy to the point that I couldn't focus on schoolwork whatsoever. However, the METAR report read like a dream: calm/clear/10. I decided to see if there was a plane available for the afternoon. If there was, I was taking it, hoping that an hour in the air would clear my head a bit. Turns out 737UY was, in fact, available, so I reserved her from 330 to 5. I decided to fly to EQY (which was reopened after the painting), do a couple of landings, and come back.

EQY is no Clark County, in that it's a good 20 miles from JQF (ie, you can't see it immediately after takeoff). So having plotted my heading, I take-off. Tower tells me I forgot to turn my transponder on. D'oh. I make the excuse that the panel in each Skyhawk is different and my flows get messed up - fortunately, the controller is quite forgiving. In order to avoid the "tower farm" which is just south of Concord, I climb to 3000 feet on some of the best climb performance I've ever gotten in an airplane. With a frequency change approved, I switch over to the EQY ASOS, and then to the CTAF. The lone plane in the pattern informs me that she is using Runway 5 (rather arbitrarily, since winds are variable at 3). I decided to follow suit, and point my nose for the 45 for the downwind. Well it turns out that I misidentified the field, and I was really more aligned for an entry on left base for runway 5. I figure that's OK, and call my position and prep 7UY for landing. My first touchdown was gorgeous, and I taxied back to fly the pattern. After an uneventful (if slightly less perfect) pattern, I take off again for JQF. On the way back, I finally got the guts to take a picture. It's not much, really just the panel, but it was kinda hazy so a picture outside wouldn't have been much anyway. I'm pretty proud of the straight and level I'm holding:

All in all an uneventful - but very distracting - flight. Exactly what I needed.

Hobbs/Solo/PIC: 1.0
Landings: 3

Got to admit, it's getting better

2006-09-29T11:12:00.000-04:00

First, I know I need to put up more pictures. One problem with this is that, as a student pilot, I would feel a little bit uncomfortable taking pictures while flying solo, and I have no passengers to take pictures for me. But someday, pictures will come!

On 9/28, I showed up at Concord for some solo flight. After a few flights in a row with less-than-impressive landings, I decided that I would spend the morning in the pattern. Unfortunately, EQY was closed to repaint the newly paved runways, so I was forced to remain in the somewhat busier pattern at Concord. It turned out to be not that big of deal, as it was not extremely busy that day, and usually ATC let me sneak out in front of planes waiting on IFR release (something i greatly appreciated). The winds were perfect for a day of pattern work at well - from 200-220 at anywhere from 7 to gusting 15 - not too easy, not too hard.

My main goal was to get my landings back on centerline, but I also needed to improve my flares and touchdowns. On my first landing of the day, I came in hot and high, and my flare was so awkward and horrible that I executed a go-around (something I actually had never done in a 172). I dropped the flaps too quickly on the maneuver (I hate that flaps switch in planes like 7419G), but I was high and fast enough and I thought the go around was executed pretty well. Tower acknowledged my go-around with a mere "roger," but I was embarassed. My second try wasn't much better. Once again, I came in hot and high, touched down too early, flared to hard and popped about 10 feet off the runway, the finally pushed her back down into some semblance of a landing. Great.

I refused to let myself get frustrated, though, and taxied back for another try. The next landing, at least with respect to the flare, was much better - in fact it was quite smooth. It was off centerline, though. Progress nonetheless. The next 6 landings, though, were various degrees of perfect. The wind was hovering at 220, so I crabbed into it to hold center line and then used left rudder at the last second to straighten the plane. All of my touchdowns were good, including some of my smoothest ever (in any plane). I even had a few that were so soft and perfect that, with a little braking and backpressure, I was able to slide off the runway at the first available taxiway - a far cry from my first embarassing landings of the day.

In addition to all this fun, the day was unique for several other reasons:
1) A red-tailed hawk decided it'd be fun to fly right under my wing while I was on final.
2) A Skyhawk landing in front of me experienced a complete right brake failure on the runway (no one got hurt).
3) I broke 30 hours!

Hobbs/Solo/PIC: 1.2
Landings: 9

Take a look around

2006-09-23T12:43:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had my first dual lesson since completing my C172 checkout on 8/29. Tired of only being able to work the pattern at Concord (which is a pretty busy airport), I asked Jim to take me to an untowered airport so that I could get more landing practice (which is definitely necessary, as my landings were *slightly* rusty yesterday - oh well). We looked at the sectional a bit, and then decided that we'd make the trip to Monroe (EQY), because not only is that another FlyCarolina base, but there is an FAA knowledge testing center there. The sky was quite nice yesterday, and very smooth. I, however, was anything but smooth. For starters, I forgot to turn our transponder on upon takeoff, resulting in a humorous scolding from Jim and the tower at KJQF. On the way to Monroe, I let myself get distracted by some random story Jim was telling, getting of heading and forgetting to check the weather, etc. I felt pretty dumb. Anyways, my pattern work at Monroe was pretty good, though my landings were all a little hot coming in - Jim attributed that to the fact that the aircraft we were in (N65741) performed better than the other Cessna (737UY) that I was used to flying. Despite the heat, my landings were pretty smooth. We departed Monroe after 2 landings, and on our way back I asked Jim to teach me steep turns. He seemed a little surprised that I hadn't learned them before soloing, but went ahead and demonstrated them, using a white watertower as our entry and exit point. After Jim showed me the ropes, I gave it a shot myself - and executed them to PTS on my first try. As I was finishing my turn, though, Jim and I had a bit of a scare. Apparently, we'd been practicing the turns right over another small airport without even realizing it! We moved further to the east, and I practiced the turns one more time, losing a little bit more altitude this time, but still pretty clost to PTS. Satisfied with my turns (I'm not really sure why so many students think they're so hard; I find slow-flight to be much more difficult), we returned to Concord. My landing was, once again, way to the right (Jim attributed this to the unfamiliar aspects of the plane as well), but one of the smoothest touchdowns I've ever had in a 172. Good lesson, overall.

Hobbs: 1.2
Landings: 3

172 Checkout Complete

2006-09-20T13:19:00.000-04:00

That is what Jim inscribed into my logbook on 8/29 after my next flight. This flight was much shorter than the last one (a mere .5 on the Hobbs meter), and encompassed just 4 landings and the emergency procedures. I performed the "investigate" part of the emergency procedures exactly right, but didn't do such a good job of making sure the plane got back to the runway. Mark taught me that if you're at or below pattern altitude, screw the investigate and just land the plane - something I didn't do in my quest to prove to Jim that I knew the checklist (he said we would have lived, and that's the most important part). On my last pattern, Jim made me do a no flaps landing - something I'd never had to try because the Sundowner (unlike the 172) has mechanical (rather than electric) flaps. The landing was pretty tough, as the approach had to be made shallow and fast. Coming into ground effect, I flared, and popped back out of ground effect. I pushed her back down into ground effect, flared, and popped out again. Finally, on my third try, I got the airspeed to bleed off enough to hold the flare, and the plane settled pretty nicely, and not even halfway down the 7400 foot strip at Concord, earning a "nicely done" from Jim. Satisfied, we returned to the office, where Jim filled out and signed the precious endorsement in the back of my logbook, saying that I could solo.

The operative word in that last sentence is "could," because Jim set some seemingly silly weather minimums for my solo flight (5000 foot ceiling, for one). Thus, of course, every time I made my way to Concord in the next week or so to fly, the sky went from "clear below 12000" to "overcast cloud deck at 700" in the 20 minutes it takes me to get there. I didn't actually solo until 9 days later, when I took a Skyhawk I'd actually not flown before for a few trips around the pattern. Though my landings were rough at first, I quickly got back in rhthym. I've since soloed 3 times in a 172, including twice away from the field (I'm yet to land at an any airport but Concord, so my away from the field solos have consisted basically of me exploring Davidson and its environs from the air. The last time I did this, a friend of mine at school actually saw me as I circled the campus). This, finally, brings this blog up to the present. My next flight is Friday, and this one will actually be dual. I'm hoping to learn the last air maneuvers I need for the practical - steep turns and ground reference maneuvers - in addition to landing a few times at a secondary airport.

Different place, same thing (sorta)

2006-09-19T16:16:00.000-04:00

I'm currently a senior at Davidson College in/near Charlotte, NC. We're a tiny school, and despite our relatively stellar reputation with academia at large, we are more generally known for "almost beating Ohio State in the first round" of the NCAA tournament in 2005. Regardless, I moved back to school on August 19. Remembering that moving is one of the most stressful times for me, I quickly realized that flying, like other summer activities of the past, would suddenly become something I had to make a concious effort towards if I was going to keep it up. I resolved that I would try to get into the cockpit as quickly as possible, so as not to miss a beat.

Fortunately, I was already pretty familiar with one of the closest GA airports, KJQF (Concord Regional Airport), as AirDoog has flown in and out of it multiple times to take me home for breaks, etc. I emailed the flightschools that I could find there, and told them about my former experience in the Sundowner and my desire to continue my instruction in North Carolina. A few days later I received a short reply from Jim, an instructor at FlyCarolina, a flying club based at JQF. Jim explained to me the details of the club, and told me to call him to schedule an aircraft check-out flight. I did so on 8/25, and Jim invited me to come fly the very next day! Since there's few things that get me going like flying, I was pretty excited - and nervous. I would be flying a completely different aircraft (C172) than the Sundowner at a different airport than good old Bowman, and for the first time would be going up with an instructor who was not my best friend from high school.

I arrived at the airport right on time, hoping to impress Jim with my abilities. I wanted to be endorsed to solo that I could continue flying but pay only for the plane and fuel (CFIs be expensive when they don't teach for free). I found Jim in the FlyCarolina office; he was and is one of the nicest and cheerful people I've ever met. He reviewed my logbook and endorsements, talked a little bit more about the club and its operations, went over a few things with regards to the local airspace, and then we went out onto the tarmac. Jim walked me through a pre-flight inspection of the airplane, which I was already pretty familiar with. We hopped in and, before firing her up, went over the cockpit, panel and door system of the 172. Once we were ready to go, I checked the weather and called tower for taxi clearance (Jim was impressed with my radio call; JQF uses one frequency for tower/ground, even though they have both frequencies listed in the A/FD). As we taxied, I began to enjoy some of the differences between the 172 and the Sundowner - like, for example, that the plane could hold the center line on taxi without using the brakes! We reached the end of the runway, and performed a run-up, following the checklist to the T so as not to make a mistake in the unfamiliar aircraft. Perhaps the biggest trouble I had (on the ground) was getting used to the fact that unlike the Sundwoner, the 172 has no fuel boost pump (thank God). The push/pull throttle and mixture were a little different, too.

In no time at all, we were cleared for takeoff by the tower. I taxied out onto the runway and push the throttle to full open. A quick check of the gauges - RPMs in the green, amps/volts good, airspeed comin alive - showed that we were good to go, when suddenly I realized - I had no idea what our Vr was! I quickly asked Jim, who gave the answer, and we took off into the Carolina sky. Although Jim corrected me for tracking slightly off runway heading, he immediately commented that I looked very sharp and not rusty in the least. I took that as a compliment for both myself and Mark. We climbed nicely to 3000 feet, and Jim asked me to set him up for slow flight. After determining how far I should pull the RPMs back in this plane, I did so, and held everything quite nicely. Satisfied, Jim asked me to transfer from slow flight to a full fledged power-off stall. I killed the power and pulled back on the yoke, stalled the airplane, and recovered, losing only 200 feet of altitude, which Jim said was excellent by private pilot standards. After a power-on stall, Jim said: "I'm not going to test your steep turns" - which was good, because Mark hadn't taught them to me - "but I am going to test you on this," and pulled the throttle to idle. I went through the routine that Mark had taught me, which Jim said seemed safe enough, but in the end he gave me a more specific checklist to memorize before I could be endorsed to solo.

After the simulated emergency, we began flying back towards Concord, with Jim pointing out some good VFR landmarks along the way. Then came the fun part - landing an aircraft I had never landed before. Fortunately, the wind was calm, so I had little outside variables to work with other than plane itself. We entered the pattern on a left base for runway 20, and I went through the landing sequence without Jim's help. I came on final a little slow and a little high, which I corrected by adding a little power and then forward slipping to the runway (a move Mark is particularly fond of). The landing turned out better than I ever could have dreamed, with a nice little chirp from the tires and a "very nice" from Jim. We went through the pattern once more, and then called it a day. Jim said my skills were very sharp; I lacked only the emergency procedures and a third landing before I could solo.

Hobbs: 0.9
Landings: 2

All alone

2006-09-17T18:07:00.000-04:00

On August 16, Mark and I went up for what would be our last flight of the summer (I was to leave for school 3 days later). Mark and I were both determined that I should solo that day. For one, I had worked really hard on developing proficiency in the Sundowner (20+ hours), but because of 2 jobs, an engagement, etc. I hadn't had time to take the pre-solo written (I finally found time on the 15th). For another thing, I was worried that I would become psychologically dependent on an instructor - if I didn't solo soon (if not that day), I would never trust myself to be PIC. I needed to be kicked out of the nest so that I could fly on my own. And finally, I wanted to pick up my training down in North Carolina having soloed already (simply because it looks good).

The weather was great that day - not even that humid - though the winds were a bit rough. We initially thought we'd head to Clark County (KJVY), but a quick check of the AWOS there indicated a difficult cross-wind. Madison (KIMS), however, had milder winds blowing right down the runway. We changed course and entered the pattern at Madison. From the get-go, everything I did was sloppy. My patterns weren't particularly sharp, I couldn't get the trim set just right, and my landings were rather rough. On the verge of frustration, I made 2 decent landings in a row, and Mark asked me to taxi to the ramp so as to let him out. I did so and go out with him, to stretch my legs and get a drink before embarking on arguably the biggest adventure of my life. Mark shook my hand and reminded me to be careful (I responded with my favorite Han Solo quote: "Hey...it's me" that usually irritates Mark to no ends before assuring him that I would be extremely careful).

We went back outside and while Mark plopped down on a bench in the shade to watch, I went over to the airplane. I removed the chocks, checked the fuel and oil, and hopped in (Mark told me I didn't need a thorough pre-flight since we had just flown). I hopped in the cabin, and managed to get the engine started (I was pretty happy because hot-starts have always been a sticky subject for me). Before I knew it, I was taxiing away from my instructor and friend to the end of runway 3. After calling my departure on the com and scanning for traffic, I positioned myself on the runway and took off. At first, everything seemed extremely natural because I'd done it so many times. But when I saw the ground 500 feet below me on my cross-wind turn, I suddenly realized that I was completely in control of my destiny - there was no instructor to back me up this time. My first pattern turned out pretty well, with a landing better than any I had done with Mark that day (he claims I porpoised a little bit - I didn't feel anything, but I was on a pretty big rush). I shouted "YES!" to myself, exited the runway and taxied back into position for another pattern. My next pattern was excellent, as was the landing, but I touched down late on the runway because of a bit of a cross-wind. As a result, I missed the midfield taxiway and ended up taxing all the way to the end of the runway, and then all the way back for my final pattern.

After 3 patterns (and landings), I taxied back to the ramp, where Mark got back in. We made our way back to Louisville quickly (I had work), but nothing could quell my enthusiasm. I had soloed - finally - and broken through to the next level of flight.

Hobbs: 1.8
Solo/PIC: 0.5
Landings: 8

Make sure you read it right

2006-09-12T10:53:00.000-04:00

On August 27, Comair Flight 5191 attempted to depart KLEX on a runway at least 1000 feet shorter than needed for the fully loaded plane. The CRJ raced off the end of the runway, became airborne, struck trees, and then crashed in a field about a mile off the end of the runway. Everyone on board died, except for the copilot, who is expected to survive multiple fractures and a collapsed lung. It was the worst aviation disaster in the US since 2001, and the first major disaster since I’ve been a pilot. The scariest thing for me, though, is that two weeks to the day before the crash, I found myself in the exact same situation as the pilots of Flight 5191. On August 13, Mark and I went up for some night flight and cross-country time. The flight was easily one of the best of the summer – flying at night is one of the most extreme feelings of isolation one can ever experience.

The flight was also my first encounter with Charlie Class airspace. When we were over Frankfort, Mark told me how to call Lexington approach (using a frequency on the sectional) and then request clearance into the airport. He also taught me the handy mnemonic “CRAFT” – Cleared to Route Altitude Frequency Transponder – to help with clearance readbacks. Since Lexington isn’t nearly as busy at night as KSDF is, we were instructed to fly a left base for runway 22 and very shortly thereafter were cleared to land. My landing turned out pretty well (especially for my first night landing ever), and as we taxied off a commercial jet landed right behind us! We taxied to the FBO, I gave the fiancé a call to let her know we were safe, and then we hopped back in to continue the cross-country. We called clearance delivery to get our VFR clearance out of the Charlie, and then were given permission to taxi by ground. As we taxied, Mark pointed out the various features of commercial airports that I should be aware of. Suddenly, I saw the hold-short line in front of the airplane, and I slammed on the brakes, as pilots are wont to do when they see that line. A quick look at the airport diagram (and taxiway signs), however, revealed to us that this was runway 26, and that we needed to cross to get to 22. We made our crossing, and took off uneventfully, and continued our cross-country flight.

Of course, all this seems a little haunting in light of the mistake made that morning regarding Flight 5191. In my opinion, the blame for that crash rests mostly on the pilots, but also partially on the ATC. The lone controller in Lexington that morning could have issued more specific ground instructions (“Cross runway 26 and taxi to runway 22” instead of just “taxi to runway 22”) and could have visually verified the position of the aircraft before clearing it for takeoff, which occurred well before the aircraft arrived at the hold-short line. The pilots, however, are ultimately responsible for knowing where they are (both on the ground and in the air), and contributed to the overall danger of the situation by responding only with “Roger” when they were cleared for takeoff (Mark once beat me for saying only “5155Mike” when we were cleared to land at Bowman; clearances should always be read back). Nevertheless, the scariest thing for me was that 2 weeks before Comair flight 5191 crashed at Lexington, I had almost made the same mistake.

Hobbs: 3.0
Night: 2.6
Cross-country: 3.0
Landings: 9

Be advised...

2006-09-11T21:48:00.000-04:00

I must confess that coming into it, I dramatically underestimated the complexity and difficulty invovled in flying - even just VFR. Flying involves constantly juggling a dozen tasks, and at the same time anticipating what the next task should be. I can only imagine the difficulty in learning IFR and beyond. For the next month and more after my first flight, the remarks for every single flight in my logbook contain the following: "pattern work, landings." That's not to say I didn't learn anything else - because I did: slowflight, power-on / power-off stalls, short / soft field takeoffs, emergency procedures, forward slip, cross-wind correction, etc. - but it took me 10+ hours and 6+ flights to finally get a decent landing done. Kinda frustrating, to say the least.

On July 14, I learned an important lesson in humorous fashion. After several well-flown patterns (with botched landings), Mark farted when we were abeam of the numbers, and then proceded to open the door so as to ventilate/distract me. The lesson is apparent: no matter what happens in flight - engine/instrument failure, broken window, door flying open - KEEP FLYING THE AIRPLANE! Odds are good there's little you can do to correct the problem in flight, and letting it distract you only makes the situation more dangerous for you and everyone else involved.

On August 7, a not-too-shabby (according to all witnesses) cross-wind landing at KJVY accidentally tripped our ELT, which resulted in the removal of an access hatch in the empennage (unfortuately, the Sundowner does not have an ELT remote in the panel) and a phone call to the FSS in Terre Haute. Only a little bit embarassing.

During a touch-and-go at Madison (KIMS) on August 14, Mark and I spotted a small object on the runway (well out of the way) as the plane neared rotation speed. I edged to the right to avoid it, and shortly before rotation we identified the object as a large turtle. Now a turtle would be bad news for a nose gear, possibly resulting in a prop strike and worse. Realizing this, I made my radio call as follows: "Madison Traffic, Sundowner 5155Mike is on the go from runway two one madison. Be advised, there's a turtle on the runway." Despite the humor of the situation, I thought the call was exactly in line with what radio calls are supposed to do at untowered fields: give other aircraft all necessary information so that they can fly (and land) safely.

I need a cigarette...

2006-09-11T15:52:00.000-04:00

I’m originally from Louisville, KY, and I was living there over the summer when my training began. The GA airport in Louisville is Bowman Field and it’s a fantastic field. Situated in Delta class airspace (below the Louisville Charlie class), Bowman normally has 2 working strips: 6-24 and 14-32. However, over the summer, 14-32 was being re-excavated and re-surfaced (which it needed rather badly), leaving us with 6-24 as the only option (as well some really funny taxi routes as construction got closer to the intersection of the 2 runways). AirDoog is based out of Bowman, so I was pretty familiar with the airport. On July 3, 2006, Mark and I arrived for my first flight ever as a "real" pilot.

We began by walking through a preflight together, both inside and outside. Since I'd been around GA airplanes most of my life, much of what we went over was familiar to me, but it was good to go over it all. Inside the plane, we went over all the instruments, levers, switches, etc., and then started 'er up. One reason that Bowman is so nice is that it has an ATIS and a ground control (even though half the time the guy at tower tells you just to monitor ground, not to call them), so Mark instructed me on using those. One of the biggest struggles for me was learning to taxi effectively. Mark is a "center-line Nazi," chastising me for getting off just a little bit, and my control was marginal at best. I know now that it's one of those things that come with practice.

We decided (randomly) to fly to 6I2, in gorgeous Springfield, KY. A bit far for a first flight (43 nm), but the distance was good in terms of learning to control the aircraft. The only real difficulty on that front is the trim, which I couldn't get at all. The humidity of the Ohio Valley in the summer certainly didn't help, but I couldn't get the aircraft to maintain straight and level flight for anything. As we apporached the airfield, Mark taught me about radio calls at untowered (not uncontrolled) airports, and about the traffic pattern and landing. I gotta admit I didn't understand most of it, but I was still able to get the plane turned on final before I let Mark take over for the landing.

As we taxied down the runway and onto the ramp, my excitement level was through the roof. We got out to take a break (small airplanes = very hot in July), and I felt like I needed something - namely, a cigarette (I never smoke; just abusing that cliche sex joke) - to calm me down. My heart was racing. Mark would have none of it (he hates smoking), and after a quick Mountain Dew, up we went again to practice a closed traffic pattern. After a few rounds in the pattern, I felt like I knew what I was doing (sorta), and by the end of the day I was flying patterns by myself, with Mark's help on the landings alone. Finally, it was time to return to Louisville. As we approached the Bowman airspace, Mark gave me instructions on how to enter the airspace and then get clearance to land. We flew a left base for 24, and Mark didn't have to touch the flight controls even up to landing...until I bounced her hard on the runway. Mark instantly took over and brought her down smoothly. I guess I have a long way to go.

Hobbs: 2.3
Landings: 4

The adventure begins...

2006-09-11T15:10:00.000-04:00

I should begin by telling you that my dad is a pilot, and has been since he was 16 years old (yes, that's before I was born). It's never been something he's wanted to pursue as a career - in his mind, turning something he loved like flying into a job would be an atrocity. Also in his favor in this respect is that he has been fortunate enough financially to support his recreation-only flying. So throughout my childhood, Dad owned or co-owned several planes (a Grumman Tiger, a Beechcraft Bonanza, and a Piper Malibu). Eventually, he sold his Malibu, and went for several years without flying. When I left for college, Dad decided that it might be time to get in the cockpit again, if only to have an easy way to come visit me or pick me up on a regular basis. He purchased another Malibu, and despite a nose-gear collapse, has been flying ever since.

So that's where I begin - as an 18 year old kid, flying with my dad and overwhelmed by 2 emotions:

1) Flying is the most unbeliveably cool thing that any human ever has done. The sights that can be seen from an airplane - downtown skyscrapers that look like matchsticks; entire forests ablaze with reds and yellows in fall; your own house or college - and the freedom that it grants are just indescribable.
2) If something were to happen to my dad while we were in the air, I would be hosed. Big time. (This was before I realized that pilots have to have "medicals," although I suppose a buzzard strike might have been just as bad).

So with the second though on my mind I started to learn, mostly from my dad (he's not a CFI; I mean learn in the sense that he would explain to me what each lever/switch etc. would do). Pretty quickly, I knew how to preflight the plane, how to work a Garmin 530 (kinda), how the 6 pack instruments worked, and how to talk to ATC. If the weather were particularly nice, he would even let me handfly a bit (which, on an IFR cross country, is not terribly exciting - but it's still flying). Flying with dad became affectionately known as "AirDoog."

The summer after sophomore year in college (2005), my best friend from high school, Mark, announced suddenly that he wanted to become a pilot and as such would be transferring from an engineering school in Indiana to Embry-Riddle. Mark began work on his private pilot's license over the summer, and it quickly became apparent that he was extremely talented (he passed the practical at 40.0 hours). Over Thanksgiving break, Mark took myself and another friend for a spin in his neighbor's Beechcraft Sundowner. Mark let us take turns flying and making radio calls, watching us carefully every step of the way. I think at this point, I was officially hooked.

By the end of June 2006, Mark was a CFI (yeah, he went from student pilot to CFI in less than a year...I told you, he's a talented son of a bitch), and gave me an incredible offer: he would teach me for free (a "guinea pig student," he called it), so long as I would pay for the plane and the gas (since CFIs usually run about $40/hr on top of fuel and gas, it was a good bit of money saved). Talking my dad into the deal was about as tough as convincing him to take a nap (which he loves). So it was settled: upon Mark's arrival from Embry in late June, I would begin my flight training in that same Sundowner, N5155M.

So basically, I'm a poser

2006-09-11T14:58:00.000-04:00

That's what it comes down to. As the infection known as compulsive flying disorder continues to take over my brain, I've been crawling on the internet searching for anyway to get my aviation "fix" - and believe me, there are lots. Aviation stalking has never been easier thanks to websites like FlightAware and Live ATC, the latter of which actually offers live (well, very slightly delayed) transmissions of various air traffic control areas over the net. However, I quickly tired of these (especially since, unless it's someone you know, listening to other pilots really only makes you jealous), and found my way into the sphere of flying blogs.

There are countless flying blogs, written by everyone from students to CFIs to ATPs. This is where me being a poser comes in. I've decided to create a blog (this very one, as a matter of fact), to recount my adventures as a pilot (and maybe some other miscellany as well). I'm scheduled to fly on Friday (9/15), so in the coming days I'll go through my logbook and tell the backstory.