Airport Stories, Part 1: You Knew It Was Coming

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

SNAFU. That’s how it started. But I’d better give you some backstory first…

An old girlfriend used to say of Life, ‘It’s all what’s most important to you.’ Circumstances conspired and combined to keep me on the ground this Century, and made me forget the most important thing to me. No, that’s not true. I never forgot flying. I thought about it every single day. But it just wasn’t feasible. In July we went to the Arlington Fly-In. That did it. I’m going to take to the air again. A week ago Monday I asked for the week off from work and I scheduled some time with an instructor. And so the SNAFU begins…

I’d tried to contact one FBO three times and talked to the receptionist. No one ever called me back, so I went to another FBO. I was scheduled to fly Tuesday through Friday at ten in the ayem. Under grey skies (What? Weatherunderground said it was to be sunny this week!) I dutifully showed up at the desk. No instructor. He was weathered in back East. Apparently they had some nasty weather back there. There were no instructors available at the other two places. Since my instructor would not be available until today, I scheduled some time for Wednesday at the place that never called me back.

Wednesday at 1000 I went to the FBO. Ceiling was 2,100 broken, with 700 scattered. The instructor said we could go, but scattered clouds can turn to broken pretty quickly up here and we might end up spending all the time dodging clouds. We didn’t go, and ended up ‘hangar flying’ for an hour. The good news is that their helicopter instructor came in and said they might have access to a Schweizer. fingers crossed Naturally, by the time I got home the weather was clearing. Bugger!

I was beginning to fear my time off would be wasted. But eventually things work out. ed of SNAFU.

I took the precaution of re-scheduling today’s flight for 1600 because the forecast called for rain. I was just hanging out this morning, reading SDMB, drinking coffee, and I munched on some cookie crumbs by way of breakfast. Of course it was sunny out. At a quarter past ten the phone rang. It was the FBO, wondering if I wouldn’t mind coming in at eleven instead of four. I needed a shave, and I hadn’t gotten round to showering yet. I knew I’d be late. They said that would be OK.

I met the instructor and we chatted a bit while he went over my log books and I filled out some paperwork. He knew I haven’t flown for a decade. But that was in helicopters. The last time I flew a fixed-wing was 1992. No worries; he has lots of students who are lapsed pilots. We headed out to the plane and I did the pre-flight check. I expected to be apprehensive, but it just seemed natural to in a plane again. I ran through the checklist and started the engine. The instructor went over frequencies and radios. This Cessna 172N is equipped with a Garmin 430 NAVCOM/GPS. It’s a bit more complicated than the KX-155s I’m used to. But for what we were doing today, we just stuck to the comm side of it. We had the tower and ground on the flip-flop, and used the old Cessna radio for ATIS. Then it was time to go.

Taxi procedures were just starting to change the last time I flew. Of course with helicopters you don’t have to deal with that. Just take off from the taxiway. And I’ve never flown from this airport before, except for commercial flights. I needed the instructor to point out which way to go. The first thing I noticed is that the Cessna handles like a pig. In a helicopter you point the nose with the pedals and go with the cyclic. It’s much lighter and easier than steering a plane with the pedals. I had to use differential braking on one turn. Run-up went fine, though I missed doing the Sprag clutch check. No rotors on a Cessna!

The instructor handled the radios, but I don’t think he ever touched the controls – and I looked. He told me the rotation and climb-out speeds, which I already knew, and off we went. After leaving the pattern we did some turns over Lummi Island and then headed north. We did a normal stall, a departure stall, and an approach stall. We did slow flight, and a simulated engine failure. Here’s where I learned something that was never taught to me before. In the Skyhawk you just wheel in full nose-up trim. There’s your glide speed and angle. A piece of cake. Then it was time to head back to the barn. Slater Road is pretty much perpendicular to the runway, and it’s easy to find by looking for the Silver Reef Casino. Just fly next to it, get down to 1,200 feet by the time it crosses the Nooksack River, and there’s your base leg.

I’d mentioned that I like landing with full flaps, so that’s how we set up our touch-and-go. I overshot the runway a bit and had to line it up. With those big barn doors hanging down, the nose is pretty low. As we neared the runway the only thing the instructor had to say was ‘Just don’t land flat.’ I had no intention of doing that. Airspeed and sink rate good. Getting close. Flare… flare… flare… Stall warning horn sounding… And… squeek we were down. I have to say, that was one god-damned beautiful touchdown! :smiley: The instructor had two squawks with my first fixed-wing landing in 18 years. First, I wasn’t on the centreline. Second, I was anticipating a touch-and-go and didn’t pull the throttle all the way off. We did the touch-and-go and went around the pattern. I came in a bit high, but 40º of flaps would take care of that soon enough. Once again I made a virtually perfect touchdown.

We debriefed in the cockpit. The instructor was confident I’d reduce my altitude excursions. He asked about my second landing. ‘I don’t want to turn pilots into me, so I’ll ask: Do you like coming in high? Some people like extra altitude on approach.’ I told him, ‘No. That was a screw-up.’ He said my landings were excellent, and he liked my near-ground behaviour. He said his goal is for students to make safe landings. That mine were so smooth was ‘gravy’.

I’m pleased with my performance today, especially considering that I stopped flying fixed-wings for the eight years I was flying helicopters. The instructor seemed pleased as well. Next flight is tomorrow morning at 1000. Also Sunday. I might schedule for Monday, too. I’ll have to schedule with an AME to renew my medical certificate soon, too.

Traditionally I eat Mexican food after flying. It was just so easy to swing by Tito’s Tacos on the way home. Tito’s is a bit far to go nowadays, but I hit up a taco truck before the freeway.

It’s been a good day.

2

Awsome story! I feel a bit sorry for the “old” girlfriend though. Did you kick her to the curb immediately, or wait till after you booked the flight lessons? Oh, well, you were following her advice after all.

In any case, your story has inspired me. Now I just need to figure out what I’m inspired to do. Wait, I know! I’m going to go read me some Richard Bach!

3

I was still a current (helicopter) pilot when we split. So that was in the '90s. :stuck_out_tongue:

I recently found Richard Bach’s Illusions. It was a gift from a girlfriend in the mid-'80s.

4

Nice story. I didn’t know about the full nose-up trim either.

You ever slip into a landing? I used to love doing that–feels sorta dare-devil but is really safer (at least I think–seems to be since you are carrying more altitude).

5

I sneaked in a little slip on that high approach. I was really, really tempted to do one full-on, but I didn’t want to do anything to upset the instructor. I slipped all the time in dad’s plane. I agree that it’s fun. Dad used to come in way high on approach, and then alternate left and right slips. He called it doing the ‘falling leaf’. He liked them too.

6

With full barn doors down, be careful with the slippin.

::: just sayin ::::::

7

Yep. I used to do it all the time, so I know it can be done. But it’s more a maneuver to use if your flaps don’t come down.

EDIT: I’m always careful. In the air. :smiley:

.

8

I think the issue is that on some Cessnas, the wash with full flaps can render the tail surfaces (was it the rudder??) ineffective in a hard slip…the advice is to keep the ball centered when the flaps are down.

9

Congratulations on dusting off the wings - I hope that sometime in the future I, too, can get back in the air.

Meanwhile, keep posting so I can live vicariously.

10

I agree with everyone, and Broomstick especially, keep posting them and congrats on your um…safe re-entry! :stuck_out_tongue:

11

Great story! I’ve never had the flying bug, but my dad did. Whenever I read a story like this, I think of him too.

You love what you love. :slight_smile:

12

Outstanding news, Johnny! Welcome back! We were just wondering how long it would take. :wink:

If there’s something you just need to do, there are always ways to make it possible. Other things you don’t just need to do may have to be left behind, but life is short, right? And it’s been obvious from what you’ve posted for us that flying is something you just need to do. Landing is like riding a bike, isn’t it? Once you get the hang of it, you never forget.

B’lieve there’s something back in the Emergency Procedures section of the 172N POH saying the wake off fully-extended flaps can introduce some small flutter in the elevator at high slip angles. But that’s only with some airplanes, and at worst it causes some vibration in the yoke. So, the Normal Procedures section just says “Don’t slip with the flaps out”. The liability lawyers are also the reason post-hiatus 172’s don’t even let you put out 40 degrees anymore.

13

Yesterday: 0.9 hours.

Today: DESCENT PLANNING, NON-TOWER PATTERN ENTRY, COMMUNICATIONS, X-WIND LANDING, GPS OPS

It’s a beautiful day for flying! No clouds, visibility reported as ten, but much greater in reality. I forgot my headset (actually dad’s – mine have a single plug :stuck_out_tongue: ) at the FBO. The instructor went to fetch them while I pre-flighted. When he got back and I started up, he showed me how to enter a flight plan (not a Flight Plan, but a planned course of flight) into the Garmin 430. We took off from Bellingham (opposite direction today) and flew off to Orcas Island. I think I counted one-thousand seventeen little strips scattered amongst the San Juan Islands, and they all use the same CTAF. Being a nice day, there was a lot of talking going on. We made a stop-and-go at the short, narrow strip on Orcas Island, and my landing was not as pretty as the ones yesterday. I’ve made harder landings, even when I was current; but I pissed me off. The instructor said it was no big deal, and reminded me that he told me there would be good days and bad ones. It was a safe landing, and not that hard, but it still irked me.

After taxiing back to the runway we headed toward Skagit. We set the destination on the GPS, which gave me a track heading, but I spotted a mountain peak about twice the distance away. (It might have been Three Fingers. I didn’t ask.) It was easier and more interesting to keep the nose on the mountain peak than to look at little numbers on the GPS, so I used that to set my course and used the GPS to verify I was going where I thought I was going. A useful things is that the Garmin shows the Class B airspace surrounding Whidbey Island, which gets a little close to my destination at BVS. Since I really didn’t want to bust the Class B airspace, I ended up a little close on my downwind. This is where the communications lesson started, by the way. The instructor asked me what I would say, and I told him. He said it was good, except I should say ‘traffic’ instead of ‘unicom’ since I don’t expect a response, and I need to repeat ‘Skagit’ at the end in case anyone missed it when I say it the first time. He also mentioned that Skagit had changed their frequency, and there was once a crash when someone used the old one. They found his sectional chart was not a current one. Anyway, I called base and then quickly turned final. (Due to the close pattern I was making, he called final.) We did a touch-and-go and headed back to Bellingham. He pointed out the ‘official’ reporting point of Eliza Island, and the ‘unofficial’ one of Chuckanut Bay, which we used. We listened to ATIS for current information, and I rehearsed the radio call. I forgot the bit where we would request a right base, instead of the straight-in approach the tower would otherwise give us. He talked a bit about brevity, and stressed that you want to say who you are, where you are, what you want, and anything special you want. (NB: I’m not verbose on the radio. He was just stressing it.) At the appropriate time I called, ‘Bellingham Tower, Cessna Three-Zero-Five-One-Echo, inbound over Chuckanut Bay with Mike. Request right base, over.’ (‘Mike’ is ‘information Mike’, which is the current weather/wind/altimeter/etc. It changed to November shortly thereafter.) We were cleared for a right base, report over Bellingham Marina. So far, so good.

I reach Bellingham Marina just as a biplane is taking off from the airport. He calls for take-off clearance and the tower gives it to him just as I start my turn. Then there’s a conversation. ‘Is that you [in the tower?’ ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen you in a while.’ ‘Well…’ blahblahblah yakyakyak chatterchatterchatter. Um… Guys? I’m flyin’ up here! Gotta report base… as I was told to! I thought I’d be on final before they shut up! We landed, and I taxied to parking and shut down. Someone else was scheduled to fly, and we met him halfway between where we parked near the maintenance hangar and the FBO which is near the terminal.

I was disappointed in my three landings today. None of them were greasers like the ones I made yesterday. Two were ‘good’, and the first one was ‘safe’ in my assessment. As with yesterday, I tend to touch down left of the centerline and to not pull off the power completely. We went over this in debriefing. The instructor didn’t say this directly, but he said that ‘a lot of people’ look at the spinner on landing and that makes them land left of the centerline. I think he’s right. I’d told him earlier about how when I was learning to fly helicopters I kept trying to land them like airplanes. My take-offs and patterns were perfect. My flare was perfect. Everything was perfect until the very, very end. The penny finally dropped and the gum ball rolled out of the slot, and I saw that I was trying to stall the wing for a touchdown – which you don’t do in a helicopter. I have the idea I’m trying to land an airplane like a helicopter now. See, you don’t touch down in a helicopter until you’ve come into a hover – which requires raising the collective, which, through the correlator, increases the throttle. I think maybe I’m subconsciously expecting to increase the power on landing, so I don’t pull it off all the way. The instructor said he has a student coming from helicopters who had something similar to say about landing an airplane. It’s something to look at, anyway. He says up until the last bit, my approaches are fine.

Tomorrow will be pattern work at either Bellingham or Skagit, depending on the winds. We’ll get me to land on the centerline, and (I hope) make different kinds of landings. I like full flaps, but I want more variety. We’ll also do some partial-power simulated emergencies.

One thing that came a bit out of the blue (as it were) was when he mentioned getting me trained up for my BFR ‘soon’. Neither of us went into it, but it sounded to me like I’d be ready for a BFR before I anticipated. I hope he’s not planning to give me a BFR ‘right now’. I’m not ready for one. And I still have to get to an AME.

1.2 hours today.

14

Landing with a little power on isn’t a bad thing; it actually smooths things out. You’re being trained to make power-off, full-stall landings because that’s good short-field practice, which is useful anywhere.

To keep on the centerline, keep your visual focus on the far end of the runway and judge your height with your peripheral vision. Let your eyes drift to the pavement underneath you and yep, you’ll drift left.

You don’t pass or fail a BFR, btw, so don’t worry about it. You just spend an hour on the ground and an hour in the air with a CFI and, if you have a good medical, you’re legal. It does sound like you’re pretty close to the level of performance that would let your CFI sign you off for a checkride even if you didn’t already have a PPL, anyway.

15

Yeah, I know the BFR isn’t pass/fail. Just ‘endorse/not endorse’. No biggie. I don’t think any instructor would suggest a BFR until s/he was satisfied the pilot was ready for one. Worst case: The ground and air segments take more than an hour each.

Landings may be a helicopter holdover. You look at where you’re going to land. That’s your sight-picture (redundant term). The instructor suggested I put the centerline between my legs. Cessnas are small enough that’s virtually on the centerline.

The problem with the power is that I don’t pull it off when I’m on the ground. I have it at taxi speed. I should have the power off no later than touchdown. I have to admit I’m ‘cheating’ a bit compared to my previous standards. Full flaps, power off, and runway made. I’m carrying some power through the final. I don’t think I should. My rationale: What if the engine quits? I should be able to make the runway without it.

I like full-flaps, full-stall landings because I learned in dad’s plane. You don’t wear out the (expensive) brakes that way.

16

… pretty much the same place each time, actually. Circuits and bumps today. Figured out why I keep drifting left and fixed it.

Scheduled again for tomorrow morning. After that… I don’t know. Gotta finish the bedroom before Winter! If I don’t fly next weekend, I’ll make a point to fly the following weekend.

17

A lot has changed in aviation since I was current. One of those things is runway markings. Another is communications.

Three days into The Great Aerial Comeback, I found I was a little mystified by the new runway markings. Where I learned to fly, there was one runway and one taxiway. Where I used to fly, there was one runway and a couple of taxiways. And remember that before, I was flying helicopters. Taxiways? Who needs 'em? I’d be cleared to land on the taxiway, right in front of the FBO. Just land abeam the hangar, rotate 90º, and back into the parking space! BLI has one runway and lots of taxiways. Just getting to the runway is confusing.

So a little while ago I completed the Runway Safety course at AOPA Air Safety Institute. Got the certificate and everything. Completing the course also notified the FAA, as it is a creditable course for the FAA WINGS program. Now those signs are making more sense. The instructor told me the basics, which I picked up on. But I learned something else by taking the course: You should have a runway diagram (linked earlier). I did get one – three copies – after today’s session. Now I can see what’s where. I wish I knew where my kneeboard is. It would be handy to have the diagram right there while I’m learning the new airport.

Communications. The biggest change seems to be that taxi instructions and landing clearances have to be repeated now. ‘Back in the day’ you call sign and ‘Roger’ were enough. Heck, at the small, tower-controlled airport where I learned to fly, a double-click on the mic was enough acknowledgment! (It was ‘officially’ frowned upon, but it was accepted practice there.) I remember my earliest days of training: ‘Cessna 573, cleared for take-off, two-four.’ ‘Cessna 573, roger, cleared for take-off.’ My instructor, the late Jim, would holler over the racket (we didn’t wear headsets then), ‘You don’t need to say that! They can see you’re getting on the runway!’ Not anymore. Gotta repeat to verify.

18

Steep turns, stalls, under the hood, gusty pattern work.

Beautiful day for flying, with scenic low clouds/fogs encroaching on the San Juan Islands. The steep turns and stalls went very well as we headed west from BLI toward Orcas Island. Then it was under the hood. Turns to heading while maintaining an assigned altitude were easy. Turns to a heading while descending or climbing to a new altitudes were harder. Multiple new headings while changing altitude caught me either missing the new heading or the altitude. But the instructor said my performance was good. He said he was pleased at how quickly I orientated myself after taking off the hood.

So now it’s time for some feel-and-wents. Winds were 10 kts, gusting to 14, more or less down the runway. We did two (including a simulated engine failure and short approach on the second one), and then it was time for a full-stop. I called downwind as soon as I could get a word in. There was a 206 taking off and an amphibian coming from the south. A 737 was getting ready to take off. The tower called and directed me to make a left 360º turn from downwind. I acknowledged and started a standard-rate turn to the left. Coming through 270 I had to straighten out. The 206 was northbound over the south end of the runway, and the amphib was northbound over the north end about abreast of the former. I went through the middle while the 737 started its roll. I didn’t see where the 737 rotated, but I knew I’d avoid his wake. On debriefing the instructor said it would take a really bad approach if I wasn’t down before the jet’s rotation point. I told him, ‘I can do those!’

That last landing had a lot going on, traffic-wise. The instructor said that that particular controller can let things get out of hand sometimes. Something to remember.

I don’t know when I’ll fly again. We still have a room to renovate, which will entail a weekend trip to Seattle. There are a couple of other things going on too. So it might be next week, or it might be the week after that. I’ll keep you posted.

19

What better way to spend part of a Sunday, than flying?

But first the bad news. Two of my landings were real floaters because I flared too high. They were… firm. I hate it when that happens! And I hate abusing a machine!

Today I flew with a laid-back Norwegian and stayed in the pattern. I haven’t been happy with my landings, and I wanted the practice. I decided to test a theory: Coming in on the glides slope is what’s screwing me up. Today I made high approaches. They worked out much better with 40º of flaps. Odd (pronounced ‘Ode’) was happy with my performance – except for those two landings. We did three simulated power failures, short-field landings, short-field takeoffs, a soft-field takeoff, a short-field takeoff, and normal takeoffs. Eight touch-and-goes today. There was a very slight crosswind, so Odd drilled me in x-wind takeoffs and landings. Once again Bellingham Tower threw me a couple of curve balls. This time they asked me to make right traffic just when I was about to turn left crosswind and told me they’d call my base. As I approached the end of the runway they asked for a left 360. When I was at 270º they called my base. Seems there was a Horizon flight coming in on the other end of the runway and that messed up the pattern for everybody. No worries, though. I turned final just as they were turning off the runway.

20

Good landings are partly a matter of luck no matter how good you are. You’ll have perfect ones and ugly ones no matter how much time you build. The key is to get past the mindset of making the airplane do what you want at all times, and instead to let go a little in the flare and react to what it “wants to do”. The more you worry about it, the harder you try, the worse you do. Just take your key from your instructor - he’s used to having students try to kill him, so if he isn’t visibly scared or grabbing the yoke from you, then you’re doing fine, really.

Three-D visualization of the traffic situation just has to come with practice, though. So does radio work, since you brought it up. That’s where I think learning at a busy non-towered field helped - I didn’t get flustered when I started flying out of a towered field that, come to think of it, is no more busy but at least has a traffic cop.

Remember: Relax, dammit! You need to relax harder!