Flight Pundit

Raven asked in a comment what it is like to fly. So I thought I would start at the beginning and do a true flying story every once in a while. This is my second favorite topic other than women, Marines, politics, guns. So here is the first episode:

My first flight was in an old Cessna 172 when I was six. From that point on I was hooked for life. The desire to fly has guided my life through school, the Marines, college, and work. My first lesson was from a retired Army Colonel when I was just 18 before I entered the Marines. I did this without the knowledge of my parents. I flew for an hour in this old plane that really amazed me that it was able to start let alone fly. It was the best airplane I could afford at the time working on minimum wage at McDonald’s while in high school. Shit hit the fan at home when I told them afterwards.

Years later in the Marine Corps, I was working with pilots every day and was finally able to talk one into teaching me to fly in the off time and I had positioned myself in a way to afford the lessons. I took a couple lessons and then got deployed to another desert with my unit and was not able to continue. I studied all of the flying books I could but would not continue while active.

After I was discharged from the Marines I got a ramp job (fueling airplanes) at the same local airport, with another former Marine, that I spent much time at growing up. I was in college so I took whatever work there was to pay for flights. We had two lessons and he was killed in a airplane accident that almost stopped my will to fly. I started again with another Certified Flight Instructor’s (CFI’s) a month later. Death is a part of life in the military and also in aviation. You have to move on.

Well we got to a point that I was comfortable with all aspects of simple flight. My CFI & I were doing touch and goes at my home airport when he said come to a complete stop, pull off the runway, and he jumped out and said do three more touch and goes.

Alone, I closed the door and made sure it was secure. My heart was beating so hard that it hurt. I had only flown a few short training flights. I called to the tower for permission to taxi back out to the active runway for three SOLO touch and goes. Talking on the radio was easy to talk to the tower because of all of air time I had in the Marines. My CFI had a handheld radio and I was tuned into it on the second radio in the plane. Sweat was streaming down my forehead and into my eyes. I had to fly all by myself for the first time. I taxied to the end of the active runway and stopped.

Take off check list, Breaks on, Throttle up, Magnetos left & right, check, Vacuum, check, Oil temp, check, Oil pressure, check, Panel, check, Carburetor heat, check, fuel pump check, throttle retard. Heart pounding like running a5 mile race. I was afraid of failure.

I was given permission to take off, Throttled up and moved onto the runway, Started cycling through the checks of instrument panel, throttle, fuel tank, mixture, speed, oil, runway alignment while starting to roll down the runway. At 80 Knots indicated airspeed the nose started to come up and I was flying. Shit, I was flying alone…No one could see but I was smiling so big that by the end my cheeks would hurt.

At 500 feet, started the left turn of the landing pattern that I had just done with the CFI, Passing 800′ I turned on the downwind leg of the landing pattern. At 1000 feet above ground level (AGL) leveled off and allowed speed to increase. I passed the center of the airfield looking at the spot where my CFI was standing. He was out with a crowd now waving and watching. This put the pressure on to make a good landing on my first touch and go. did I get to cocky before this time…yep, must have. Throttle back, flaps down, fuel mixture full, shit, I never adjusted after take off. Pre landing check list complete.

When the airplane was at the point to turn cross wind I looked back at the center of the airport to see several more people from the school watching. Guess I had talked to much trash to everyone about my new found skills. I turned while I was descending the nailing the 200 feet per minute decent mark making what I thought was an OK turn onto final at about 500 feet. Speed was about 75 which was at the top end of the book landing speed but still in range. And right where I was told to put it.

The alignment of the runway looked right on center. There was no wind to deal with so it should be easy. I had the nose aimed at the numbers. Going good. 100 feet, 50 feet, over the numbers, throttle out. Gentle back pressure on the yoke. Nose level, flying in ground effect, speed slowing, slowing, waiting for the wheels to touch, nothing, speed at 50, below stall speed, look out at wheel and see it was already on the runway, I never felt the landing…throttle full, mixture full, flaps up, around again. This time remember to adjust the mixture…

Second touch and go, the crowd was smaller this time as I looked at my CFI, second touch and go came in high. Stalling about 4 feet off the runway. Wham, that was a hard landing but not bad as landings go. last trip around the pattern. The tower came on asking if I could keep my speed up and this last landing because there was another flight coming into the pattern. I had visual. he was going to come in behind me. Damn changes to my thought process. Wilco (will comply). Speed about 10 knots faster than normal.

Getting in front of the plane when it is a procedures game is not normal. Turning down wind I did not retard the throttle, every thing else stays the same. Downwind, 80 knots, coming over the numbers, throttle out, floating in ground effect, tower asks me to turn off on first high speed turn off. Wheels touch, break, turn off on high speed. And stop, tower congratulates the first solo flight…I am soaking wet, turn radio to ground and ask permission to taxi to ramp.

Let the razing begin. I shut down the plane in front of the crowd and climb out dripping with sweat and shit eating grin so big that I was the crowd started to laugh at me. Pictures were taken for the solo board. I had to get back in the plane to taxi back to the Fixed Base Operator (FBO) at the school. My CFI told me that I had forgot to adjust the fuel mixture on the first go around. He also gave up on telling me when I did not respond to him on the radio. I was shocked that he could tell that from the ground. I was more shocked that I was focusing so much that I tuned him out totally. In flying there is a benefit in confidence and a very fine line between that and death. We went to the local sandwich shop for food and a coke. It was quite the celebration for me…

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