First Solo Cross-Country!

I spent a lot of time flying today, a total of 3.7 hours. The first 1.6 were spent on a flight in the newer Skyhawk owned by a club I recently joined. I've been flying Skyhawks all along, of course, but because it's newer, it has some differences, and I wanted my first flight to be with an instructor from the club. He also treated the flight as a mini-checkride, and had me plan a cross-country flight to Potomac Airfield. When we were halfway to Potomac, though, he had me do some maneuvers, slow flight, steep turns, a stall, etc., and then "divert" to Frederick, where we did three touch n' gos before heading back to Gaithersburg. He said I'll have no trouble passing my checkride, though he said I have a tendency to flare a bit high when landing.

My second flight was the BIG one, my first cross-country trip by myself. I planned the flight to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and met with Rich on Thursday night to go over my flight plan. The weather was beautiful today, as clear as I've seen it (for this region) in a really long time. It was cold, though, and while the wind on the ground in Gaithersburg was light, the winds aloft were forecast at 21 knots, or nearly 25 mph.

I took off and headed for my first visual checkpoint, a "tank farm," a grouping of big white oil tanks that can be seen for miles from the air. Before I even got to my first checkpoint I was being bounced around a bit in the plane. The flight continued, and the turbulence got a bit worse. When I was about halfway, some turbulence tipped the plane over on its right wing. I think that makes it qualify as "moderate" turbulence by formal definitions. It was worse than anything I've experienced since I started training, but it wasn't terrible and I wasn't scared. I just reduced my airspeed to below Va, or "maneuvering speed," and continued on.

Before long, I crossed the Susquehanna (sp?) River and could see the Lancaster airport about 8 miles away. I listened on the radio for the winds, and they were "250 at 13." The tower cleared me to land on Runway 31, and I set up for the landing. I knew there was a cross-wind from the left, and compensated for it as I approached the runway. This involves "slipping" the plane, banking the plane to the left, into the wind, and using the right rudder to keep it lined up with the runway. The wind was a bit gusty, and at one point (for just a moment) I had the right rudder in all the way and still couldn't keep the plane straight. The landing was a bit bumpy, certainly not my best, but not all that bad considering everything. It was kind of like ALL my landings were when I was first learning.

I stopped at the pilot shop and chatted with the owner, who signed my logbook to prove that I was there, then I called Rich to let him know I had arrived safely. I told him about the turbulence and cross-wind landing, and he asked if I had been nervous. I was surprised, when I thought about it, that I hadn't been nervous at all. That's either bad stupidity (not smart enough to know when to be afraid) or good confidence, I don't know which. I knew what to do, and I never felt unsafe, so I think it's probably just confidence in myself and the airplane, rather than stupidity, but.... Well, who am I to judge?

When I left Lancaster, I demanded Runway 26, which was almost directly into the wind. The controller tried to make me go on 31, but I told him the cross-wind exceeded my limitations and he had me taxi for the other runway. With the wind nearly right down the runway, I was off the ground in about 600 feet, and I headed home.

The flight home was beautiful. I was at a lower altitude, and the turbulence was lighter. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the turbulence went away altogether, and when I arrived back at Gaithersburg there was just a 3 knot wind, albeit straight across the runway. I made a nice landing, and taxied in.

Overall, the trip went really well. Nothing made me nervous, and I did everything right, except.... In retrospect, I should have asked the controller in Lancaster to bring me in on Runway 26. For some reason, I never even thought about asking, I just factored the cross-wind into my approach to Runway 31. Maybe that's because I fly out of an airport with only one runway. Whatever, next time I'm going to be sure to ask for the runway I want based on the winds.

Next cross-country -- maybe to Potomac airpark, the trip I planned for this morning but didn't complete. I'll talk to Rich and see.

My GPS track is below. I wish I had pictures, because it was a beautiful, clear day, but when I took out my camera in the plane, the battery was dead.

High Air Work

I flew up to Frederick today. Instead of just landing and taking off, I decided to park and wander around the airport a bit. There wasn't much to see, so why did I do it? Just because I wanted to have the experience of flying TO somewhere, to get byond the feeling of the flying being the end goal. It was cool, though I would like to go back and look for the restaurant that's supposed to be good.

So I took off and headed east over to the practice area. It was a bit hazy below, but not bad, and the sky was very blue. I had decided that I wanted to work on my transitions into and out of slow flight, the goal being not to lose any altitude. So I did it again and again and again, and I actually wasn't that bad at it. I was able to go from 110 mph to 60 mph and stay within 50 feet of my original altitude. Then I worked on steep turns. I didn't have any problem losing altitude in the turn, but I did gain some altitude coming out of a couple of the turns. Still, up to the point where I turned out to straight and level, I was completing the 360 within 25 feet or so of my original altitude. Not bad.

In order to kill time while I waited for permission to re-enter the ADIZ, I practiced just flying 360s while in slow flight, in figure eights. That was fun, and I could kind of imagine how nice it must be to fly a glider in circles, catching the thermals....

All in all, it was a good, fun flight. I'm hopeful that I can maybe get some cross country time soon, though, because I don't want to keep doing the same thing.

Sweet Freedom

I flew up to Frederick today, went around the pattern a couple times, then flew to the practice area southwest of Carroll County. What a gorgeous day to fly! The sky was clear of haze (rare in the mid-Atlantic), the leaves below are in various stages of changing color.... Blue above, reds, yellows, and greens below, and I can't imagine anything better than flying on a day like today. Sugarloaf Mountain was in sharp relief to my left as I flew to Frederick, I think for the first time ever. There was some wind, and a mild crosswind. I haven't had much experience with heavier crosswinds because my endorsement includes a limitation of a 5 knot crosswind, but I'm pretty much at a point where I correct for light crosswinds without having to really think about it.

My two landings in Frederick were good, not greasers but no real bumps either, although I did balloon slightly just after one touchdown. It wasn't really a bounce, because there was no impact, I just kind of touched down, then ballooned up a couple feet, then touched down again.

When I got to the practice area I decided I'd do some stalls, so I did. It's funny, my earliest blog entries are so full of fear about the stalls, and now they are just non-events. In between stalls I called for my ADIZ clearance, and continued practicing while I waited for ATC to recognize my transponder code. Climbing up, stalling down, blue skies, beautiful leaves.... I'm in awe of how wonderful this was. Then, when ATC called my code, I headed back for an uneventful late-afternoon landing on 32 with the sun in my eyes.

Another pilot walked over to help me push 35R back into the parking spot and introduced himself. It turned out he's also an attorney, with the DOJ's Civil Division. He said he mostly does constitutional violations, which I think means equitable remedies, injunctions, etc. Anyway, he's a member of another club at GAI that I've been considering joining in addition to my current club. I've been frustrated with the lack of available planes in my club, and his club has good rates and four planes, and is less populated. I'll think about it some more.

Anyway, great flight!

First Point-to-Point Solo!

While it may not technically qualify as a "cross-country" flight because it was less than 50 miles, tonight WAS my first flight alone from one airport to another. It went fine, but I could have done better. I talked to a weather briefer minutes before I took off, and the conditions in Frederick were reported as sky clear, wind 3 knots, visibility 10 miles. The only clouds in the area were at 12,000 feet in Baltimore, though there was also a high ceiling in Gaithersburg where I took off.

But as soon as I took off I could see that at just 2,000 feet above the ground it was VERY hazy. I think, in retrospect, I should have turned around and landed. I kept going, and I navigated to Frederick without any problem. When I got there, though, I had trouble picking out the airport in the haze. Visibility was very poor up in the air and it seemed to be getting dark. My instructor always said that if I got into trouble I could just land anywhere and call him or anyone else in my club-- they'd come get me without any hesitation. I thought about it, but the air was smooth and I didn't think the conditions were that bad. So I just landed, immediately took off again, and started to head back to Gaithersburg. It was getting darker, it seemed hazier, and the clouds seemed to be pretty low. I couldn't even see the (small) mountain that was only a few miles away.

In order to get back to Gaithersburg, I have to fly into the Washington, DC, Air Defense Identification Zone, or ADIZ. To do that, I have to file a flight plan, then talk to the air traffic controllers. They give me a four-digit code to punch into my transponder, and I have to wait for them to see my code on their radar. Once they see me, they will give me clearance to fly back into the ADIZ and toward Gaithersburg. If I skip any step, I can expect (at a minimum) to be intercepted by a military plane or helicopter and interrogated while face down on the tarmac of a runway. The procedure is cumbersome, and the consequences of messing it up are dire, but for pilots who fly planes based inside the DC ADIZ, it is routine, albeit annoying.

I had filed my flight plan by phone before I took off, so once I was up in the air at Frederick, I called the air traffic controllers on the radio and asked them to give me a transponder code. A few minutes went by while I flew around. I called again, and they said they couldn't find my flight plan! So I flew around for a few more minutes. Finally, they called and gave me a code. I punched in the code and continued flying around while waiting for them to give me permission to enter the ADIZ. Meanwhile, it's getting darker and hazier. After a few minutes, I called and asked them if they had my code. "Oh, yes, we do have you, cleared to enter the ADIZ, remain clear of Bravo airspace." I headed south, but then they called again and gave me a different code. I punched in the new code and asked if I was cleared to enter the ADIZ. They told me I was cleared to enter the ADIZ and reminded me to stay below the class B airspace over my head.

I pointed the plane straight for Gaithersburg and opened the throttle. I was at 2,100 feet, the minimum safe altitude as marked on the chart-- the haze was so thick it was all I could do to make out the ground, but I couldn't safely descend any further without better visibility. And it was definitely getting dark.

When I got to where my VOR needles said the Gaithersburg airport should be, I couldn't see it anywhere. I tried triggering the runway lights, but still couldn't see it. I finally picked it out in the darkening haze, did a circling descent a couple miles out, and entered the traffic pattern. My landing was great. It was 7:40. By the time I tied down the plane and was walking back to my car, it was 8:10 and it was DARK.

Two lessons here. First, I should have had a clearer sense of when it would be getting dark. I was still thinking of summertime and long days-- wasn't it only last week that it was getting dark at 9:30? Second, the haze I saw when I first took off from Gaithersburg should have made me turn back. I'm only authorized to fly when visibility is seven miles or more. Visibility was greater than 10 miles on the ground, but I know for a fact that it was far less only 2,000 feet above the ground. There's nothing wrong with flying at night, and on clear nights it's absolutely beautiful. And perhaps the haze would have been fine during the day. But the combination of darkening skies and haze was more than I should have accepted.

Lesson learned.

A Little More Rope

My instructor, John, gave me a little more rope today. We flew early this morning from Gaithersburg (KGAI) up to Frederick (KFDK), then toward the practice area over Westminster (EMI) and circled while Potomac Approach thought about letting us fly back into the ADIZ to get back to Gaithersburg. When we got back, John endorsed my logbook to let me fly solo to and from Frederick. It's not much distance, but the freedom to take off and fly to a different airport still feels like a big step. It's only 17 miles and 10-12 minutes by air, but it's a good half hour by car, so it's really my first taste of the freedom and speed of flight from one place to another.

Same old pattern....

I now have about 7.5 hours of solo time in the traffic pattern at KGAI. I typically have 3 out of four landings that are good, with one out of four having something just a little off, e.g., being a little off the centerline, landing a little long, etc. I'm starting to wonder if these will get any better, and if there's any point to me continuing to spend money running around the pattern. Today was beautiful, calm winds, clear sky, late in the day, but even the beauty of the landscape around KGAI is starting to lose some of its luster. My eyes kept wandering to the hills to the north, and I'm yearning to go fly around.

I've got time scheduled with my instructor later this week. My luck with weather, plane, and schedules has been good lately, starting to make up for the first six months of my training. If it holds through Thursday, I'll be out of the pattern with John and maybe I'll get cut loose to go to the practice area all on my lonesome. Fingers crossed to that!

One thing I could work on-- I am not focusing on the runway length markers as I'm on final, so the only information I end up having about how long I land is where I turn off onto the taxiway. Maybe if I end up in the pattern again, I'll take a look for the distance markers and try to start including that in my land/go-around analysis. With a 4000' runway, it's generally not a concern at KGAI, but once I get cut loose I'll need to start paying attention.

My Own Yellow Airplane!

My child-bride told me she had something special for me, but that I had to leave our condo for a few hours, so I went dowstairs to hang out with my friend Jay and his wife Ceni. A few hours later, I came back into the house to the pleasant smell of a bakery!


She had apparently gotten the mold a month ago, right after I soloed, but she's been (justifiably) occupied with preparing for a second bar exam while holding down a full-time law job. Bar exam's over, and I get a cake!!

To understand how sweet this is, you've got to understand that my wife has had a very hard time with me learning to fly. She's scared of something happening, as are so many people. When I first brought it up last year, she simply said, "No." Then, a few days later she told me that she'd never stop me from doing something I really want to do, and I could take flying lessons if I wanted to. She's been accomodating, to say the least, and somewhat sympathetic when lessons have been cancelled. Lately she's been going to club functions with me, and came out when I had to buy drinks for my entire club after soloing. She's awesome, for despite her fears and misgivings, she's supporting me in this thing I love. I mean, really, what more could I ask?

Beauty

Most of my flying club is at Oshkosh for the week. And the one plane they didn't take is the one plane I can fly as a student! So I went out today for two sessions, about an hour and 45 minutes each in the morning and late afternoon. I really wish I could leave the pattern, but I'm finding plenty to focus on IN the pattern. All told, I did seventeen trips around the pattern. Well, actually I did eighteen trips around the pattern because I was waaaay too high on one approach in the morning and had to go around.

But I did seventeen landings. Fourteen of them were genuinely good, and I seem to have figured out how to avoid bouncing. The density altitude is pretty high, about 2400 feet, so my ground speed is higher than my indicated airspeed, and that can result in a bounce if I have any extra airspeed. So I WAS flaring at about 70-75 mph IAS, and that is definitely too fast. The cheat sheet that John gave me, though shows 70-75 on final, so.... But the problem that had me bouncing is definitely that I was too fast, so I'm now shooting for 65 going into the flare. And today I only bounced once, and it was only a slight bounce.

Four of my approaches were high this afternoon, but I just dialed in some more flaps and still got down in the first third of the runway. No problemo.

What I really wanted to write about, though, was the feeling I had toward the end of my afternoon/evening session. It was 7:30 or 8:00, and the sun was orange/red and low in the West. There was little wind (3 knots) and it was pretty much perpendicular to the runway. Traffic was using runway 32. A quarter mile off the approach end of 32 there begins an expanse of farm fields. The fields are patched, with thin lines of trees separating them, and there are horses in some of the fields and an occasional building. The fields are very green, and the orange light of the sun made them seem even more so.

Maybe because it was my seventeenth landing of the day, certain parts of the process were becoming natural, not mechanical, but natural. (There's a big difference there-- "mechanical" would imply that I was moving the controls through rote memorization regardless of the conditions affecting the plane, whereas "natural" implies that I was responding to changes in altitude, airspeed, etc., albeit without too much conscious effort.).

As I was on downwind on my last lap around the pattern, a plane cut into the pattern on the base leg, and I had to extend my downwind leg by a half mile or so. I was low, the sun was low, and the landscape was absolutely beautiful. As I banked into a turn to base, 700 feet or so above the ground, I had a feeling like it was me flying, not just me "making an airplane fly." I wasn't thinking too much about how I made the plane turn, I just wanted it to turn and my hands and feet did it automatically. We (the plane and I, like one) swooped down over the trees and fields on base, then into the sun for final and a good landing. I really felt like I was flying, and it was wonderful!

My First Solo Experience

I flew six times in the first month I was taking lessons, then between a death in the family, an out-of-town trial, maintenance issues with the plane, 04G going, various scheduling issues, and weather, I flew four times in the next six months. I spent those months reading six magazine subscriptions, a bunch of books, playing Flight Simulator, listening to a half dozen flying podcasts-- I passed my written exam almost six months ago with a 97. But no flying. I thought I was NEVER going to get anywhere with this flying obsession. My wife, although hesitant about the idea of flying in a small plane, grew to look forward to the rare times I would fly because of the miraculous improvement in my mood. I was flying so sporadically, though, that it felt like the "two steps forward, one step back" syndrome.

Then I got to fly four times in the month of June and got to keep some of what I was learning. I flew on the morning of the 28th, and everything was great except for my schedule, which had me changing into a suit in the FBO bathroom and racing to DC while my instructor (John) tied the plane down. But I was consistently coming in lined up, and flaring well, and basically landing the plane repeatedly while handling everything else well, and I had 16.5 hours, which is about the national average.....

So I knew that if the weather was good, Friday June 30th could be the day. As I headed out the door for the airport, I checked my flight bag: headset, keys, kneeboard, logbook.... logbook? logbook?!?! It wasn't there, and as I ransacked the house, glancing up through the skylights at the clear blue sky and motionless leaves, I thought that this was exactly my luck. No logbook, and my certificate is in my logbook, and FARs say a student can't fly solo without the certificate. I headed to the airport and explained to John. I realized that I must have taken the log into my office after my last flight (I log my time online at logshare.com) and left it on my desk. So I left the airport and headed to work, picked up my logbook, and headed back to the airport. And as I drove, I could see the tops of trees tossing in a wind that was picking up, and I knew, I just KNEW that it was going to get gusty and I wouldn't solo.

But the wind was pretty much right down the runway, and John and I flew for almost an hour, and everything was fine. I botched a few approaches and got to practice my go-around technique, but that was fine too, and John had me taxi over to the hangar. I ran to the bathroom, received a call that I had to be in Tyson's Corner right after lunch, and ran back to the plane. John had his flight bag out on the ground and was endorsing my logbook. I was nervous, but.... I had the disciplined calm feeling I get in the courtroom-- when the stakes are high, and all you can do is have faith in your abilities and the outcome, you just trust in your training and ability and keep going. That's the feeling I had, and it's funny to me that the two things feel so much alike.

So John walked over toward the approach end of 32 and I buckled up, shut the doors, and started the pre-start checklist. Then John walked back and unchocked the plane, with me feeling like an idiot. I continued through the checklist and started the plane, and checked the oil pressure, and.... I had never flown the plane when the engine was hot, and the pressure tends to be a bit lower when the engine's hot, apparently, and the needle was hanging down just below the green even when I ran it up to 1500 rpm, and I had never seen it that low after starting. So I shut the plane down, and John walked back AGAIN and looked at it, and told me it was fine.

I taxied out to 32 and did the takeoff checklist. Four times. And it seemed like the checklist was supposed to be longer and I was missing something, but it wasn't. And I checked final. Six times. And there REALLY wasn't anyone coming. So I made the radio call and rolled out, lined up, and went. And my first thought as I climbed out was that John must weigh a lot more than he looks because to me alone in the plane, it felt like 04G used to feel with the two of us. As I passed over the departure end of 32 I just started laughing. Out loud. And I slapped my knee, and slapped John's empty seat, and basically got completely giddy. Then I thought about power lines and wanting to be turning downwind before I reached pattern altitude (i.e., turned toward the airport before the first power reduction) and I got serious and just did IT. Made my radio calls, checked extended downwind and final before turning, held my altitudes, headings, and airspeed on the dot. I used about 20 degrees of flaps and flared a tad high, but the landing was basically fine. And as I rolled out, John's voice came over the radio: "Good. Do it again." As I taxied back past him he was smiling and waved, and it was NICE.

As I was climbing out the second time I looked off toward Sugarloaf and the hills and thought how wonderful it will be to come out sometime (soon, I hope) and take off to go fly around. And the second landing was probably just about the best I've ever done. Chirp-chirp, right down the centerline, and I never felt the wheels touch down. John's voice came over the radio: "I bet you think that was a good landing!"

The third time around I overshot my altitude a bit and had to come down from 1600 feet (pattern altitude is 1549). And as I flew I looked down and thought, "Holy S&^%, I'm flying!" And it was getting hot and a bit bumpy by this time of day, and it was tough keeping things smooth on final. I landed a bit left of the centerline, but I've certainly had worse landings.

As I taxied back to park the plane I even remembered to radio UNICOM to have the fuel truck come out.

It's funny-- in some ways it seems as if the stress should make you forget things. But it almost felt like not having John there to remind me to do things just made something click into place. Sometimes with John in the plane I would forget carb heat or be sloppy about airspeed and altitude, maybe because part of my brain knows he's there to remind me. But solo, I did all my callouts just instinctively and it felt like the checklists and procedures were ingrained, and other than overshooting pattern altitude that once, I had all the numbers nailed. It felt REALLY good, and it felt like I knew how to do it. And I'm still looking for some way to get this grin off my face.