Another Step

It was a warm March day. Sunny skies, calm winds, and great visibility. Translation: a good day to fly. This wasn't another ordinary day of flying for me. It was time to solo again. After being unable to solo the past few weeks due to sickness, weather, and other issues, there was finally a break in the weather. My instructor and I jumped in the plane, ran through our checklists, and to make a long story short, we taxied to the runway. Several planes were out that day, giving air traffic control a run for their money. After concluding our run-up and a few other items, we were ready to for takeoff.

We were cleared for takeoff, but not before ATC snapped at us for asking which traffic pattern to fly. Apparently, asking for traffic pattern before you take off was too early for them. Lining up on the runway, pushing the throttle to the wall, the airplane slowly picks up speed and in a few moments, lifts off the runway. We continued up and climbed to 500 feet above the ground and began making our designated traffic turns. Everything went smoothly as we followed the downwind leg, to base, and then on final. The plane glided onto the runway, the main gear touching first, as the front wheel drifted down slowly as the plane bled off airspeed. One landing down, two more to go. Clearing the runway, we returned to the taxiway and prepared for two more take offs, all which went very well.

After making our other two landings, we returned the plane to the ramp for fuel. We had a lot of flying to do afterwards. As the plane was fueled, the feeling of excitement and anxiety crept its way through my veins. It was time for me to solo once again. Although I had done this before, somehow, this only slightly eased my tensions. With a few last pointers from the instructor, I hopped in the plane, ran through my checklists, and received clearance for taxi to the designated runway.

Approaching the hold short line, I did my run-up, and ran through the final points of my checklist. Now it was time to fly. I radioed the tower, and was cleared for take off. To my relief, all the busyness of the traffic had dissipated, leaving the entire runway and traffic pattern to myself. As I had done many times before, I lined up on the runway, added full power, and began my takeoff. Seconds later, I was airborne. With long range fuel tanks filled to the top, I noted the plane took a little longer to get off the ground, but soon enough was flying. I climbed to 500 feet above the runway, and began making my turn from crosswind to downwind. Announcing my pattern position, I was cleared to land. I continued on my downwind, turned to base, final, and glided to another decent landing.

To make this long story short, I did the same thing two more times, and called it good. I was half tempted to make another takeoff, but decided against it, as I had probably given fate enough opportunities to mess with me while in the plane all by myself. I taxied to the ramp and shut the plane down with complete satisfaction knowing that I had done well.

My day, however, was only half over. I now had to wait until it was dark. As you continually build on your flight training, new challenges come your way, and on this day I was presented with the first opportunity to fly at night. My flight instructor and I went off into the city to run a few errands and to waste some time so that it would be dark enough for us to fly. After tinkering around a bit, we returned to the airport and began making our preparations. With everything taken care of, we again hopped into the plane and received clearance for taxi to the designated runway. By this time, the sun had set, and only a few rays of daylight remained. The only useful light available was the little red cabin light in the cockpit that shined just enough on the instrument panel to barely discern the gauges. I was already nervous. We were cleared for takeoff. Able to use only my landing light to center the plane on the runway, we picked up speed and slowly rotated to lift off to begin our climb.

By the time we cleared the airport, it was completely dark. It was about at this time, as we were making our climb while tracking a VOR, that I noted how differently the airplane was acting. The plane seemed to be flying itself. All I had to do was set the proper trim level, and keep a few fingers on the yoke. The plane practically did the rest. As we continued flying, I was making turns so smoothly, it reminded me of what if felt like to fly on a commercial airliner. Really, I'll give all this credibility up to the weather conditions. Less winds to kick you around, and cooling temperatures with clear skies and a full moon. It was a beautiful night to fly.

As we continued, we transitioned to some aspects of flying that really make me nervous: slow flight and stalls. I generally don't like to fly a plane using these maneuvers, but you have to learn them in order to be safe. Adding the condition of doing this at night contributed more to my anxiety. I did find however, that after utilizing a trick another instructor taught me, slow flight came very easy, and to my benefit, I was considerably less nervous. It did me well to hear my flight instructor giving me positive feedback.

Then came the stalls. First a power off. These aren't so much an issue with me, as they are considerably less "violent" than their counterpart, power-on stalls. Without loosing so much as a hundred feet, I was able to stall the plane, recover, and climb out of the stall. The power on stall was a bit different. After initiating the stall, I had an adequate recovery, but not well enough to meet practical test standards. Perhaps another day. Power on stalls are a little more "violent" because the plane struggles to continually fly with the wings pitched at an angle that prevents airflow over the wings to generate adequate lift . This creates a necessity to utilize more input of the control surfaces at the occurrence of the stall, and if not corrected properly, can result in dangerous situations.

After taking care of the slow flight and stalls, we moved on to some night landings. This was by far my favorite part of the flight. Continuing to track a VOR, we discovered that we had overflown our intended airport. So we turned a 180 to see if we could catch sight of the airport beacon. After a minute of searching, we finally located the beacon, but no runway lights were in sight. This didn't really cause me much concern. Airport lights at uncontrolled fields are usually on a timer, and can be activated by clicking the airport's radio frequency a few times. After getting the weather conditions at the airport, we clicked the airport's frequency. Seconds later, the airport lit up in colors of blue, yellow, and red. It was like a Christmas tree. We entered the pattern and prepared to land.

Landing at night is a little tricky. Visibility is reduced, and you can only rely on your landing light and airport lights to determine where your position is relative to the runway. As we continued on our final approach, I noted that the airport lights drifted closer to the plane than what I was used to. Although it was the same rate at which I make landings during the daylight, I felt as if we were flying faster than what I was used to. However, I was able to make a good landing.

After making our first landing, we practiced a few more take offs and landings, and then decided to head back to our home airport. While en route, I noticed that while I could see the beacon of the home airport, I could not see the runway lights. After a few clicks of the frequency, I again saw the lights magically come up. Nothing is more gratifying than see the airport you're going to land at after a long day of flying. We landed, taxied back to the ramp, and secured the plane for the evening.

Overall, it was a great day to solo, and a great day to discover the wonders of night flight. Slowly but surely, I am drawing to a close of my flight training, but coming up are a few cross country trips that I am looking forward to making. That night, I left the airport wearing a smile on my face, having the satisfaction of a job well done.

Reality Check.

My last post was about owning an airplane. This post is a little more realistic. A few weeks ago, I was obsessed with the pursuit of owning an airplane. I did the research, I looked up prices, and played with finance calculators. No matter from what perspective I tried to look at it, the numbers didn't look favorable. I just couldn't afford to make such a purchase, whether in part, or in whole. A few weeks have passed since the last entry. My head is a little more stable, and my goals, a bit more manageable. While at some point I would hope to own an aircraft, I have come to terms with the fact that ownership is not possible for me right now. Airplanes are expensive. There's the cost of the actual plane, plus maintenance, avionics upgrades, insurance, hangar fees, fluctuating fuel prices, the list goes on and on.

Airplanes are a great way to travel. If you can get with a pilot who is safe and has some experience under their belt, you're in for some great experiences in the air. It's faster, considering there isn't a speed limit, unless you're within specific altitudes and airspace (at which, most airplanes, aside from jets won't normally cruise at 200 knots), and through effective navigation and communication with air traffic control, those long car rides turn into relatively short airplane rides. Plus, when you consider the General Aviation sector, you don't need to worry about baggage fees, lines, the TSA, layovers, and other commercial airport hassles. In general aviation, you can most likely arrive at an airport that is closer to your final destination than most commercial airports. The only drawback to all of these conveniences is...money.

In ground school, you learn about the four forces of flight: lift, weight, thrust, drag. These are, "physically" speaking, what keeps planes maneuverable in the air. This is the proper answer to give when you are asked this question on your knowledge test, or by your FAA examiner.

However, ask any pilot what the four forces of flight are, and they will most likely give this "humorous" answer: dreams, reality, money, FAA. As a favorite comic of mine often says, "It's funny because it's true." Airplanes are money hogs. That's a fact. So if you happen to make enough money where you can continue to keep one of these things in the air, then I would love to be like you one day. Unfortunately, today is not the day, and I do not see that day in sight any time soon.

However, while I have accepted that now is not the right time, I have continually planned on what I would like to accomplish while I continue in my flight training.

1. Finish my private pilots license- This has been a slow process due to being employed full time, and only being able to fly on the weekends. I do not complain about this. I'm thankful to have a job, and one I love at that. I have set a goal completion date, and I am constantly working towards that goal by studying for my knowledge exam, and continually practicing in the air.

2. Take a year off from training- Some may say this is a bad move. I agree. But the sabbatical from training will allow me to replenish funds for my next round of training, and in the time between, I can continue to build flight hours. Remember, flight training is expensive.

3. Add an IFR rating- An IFR rating becomes very beneficial to pilots, because you're no longer restricted to visual flight rules (VFR). This means if you happen to get in some soupy weather, you can be all the more proficient in flying your plane through it. Although IFR rated or not, it's best to avoid bad weather. Sometimes it can be unavoidable. I would much rather have an IFR rating and feel comfortable flying by gages, than being a nervous VFR pilot who has found himself in a tight spot.

4. Add a Commercial rating- This is where it gets fun. At this level, you can start charging your passengers. This doesn't mean that you'll be flying a jet for an airline (but if you've got the money, you can get the training). But if someone asks you to fly them to the beach, it's perfectly legal to charge them for it. This means that if things go wrong in the air, you're paid the big bucks to make sure that people stay safe.

5. Add the CFI- I'm still not sure how I feel about this one yet. Being a CFI (Certified Flight Instructor) requires, you guessed it- time and money. Working full time doesn't really allow me to fly often, so this CFI rating would require some patience. However, both the commercial rating, and the CFI rating are a great way to generate some return revenue on your investment in your flight training. More often than not, I would say that you can get more students than you can passengers wanting to take beach trips. Being able to teach on the weekends, I wouldn't be able to have many students, but that's ok with me. I prefer to work closely with a few students, especially in the flight training environment.

So there it is, my expensive and (forgive the pun) lofty goals. Each one will require time and money. I always seem to find myself chomping at the bit in an effort to move forward, and often times I find that I'm not ready to make such an advancement. With these goals, as with all the other aviation goals I've had, I have to keep telling myself one thing. "Small steps."