06/30/2009 - "When I say right rudder, I mean right rudder!"

Pictured at left: N739AG. This is a nice plane! Leather and cloth interior, very clean, well-cared-for instrument panel. Tom tells me that this is the plane I will be taking my checkride in. Looking forward to it.


I snapped a quick shot of Tom before starting my preflight. I call this his "instructor headshot". Be sure to appreciate the leather and cloth interior of this plane, because I sure do!




Still battling my bad flight sim habits as I work on takeoffs and landings today. It takes every bit of my concentration to keep from pitching the nose down too far and increasing the airspeed. I constantly remind myself... Let the runway come to me... But as soon as I focus my mind on other parts of the landing, like making my turn on time, the nose starts to dip. Today, I focused on using trim to prevent the nose from dipping too much. But airspeed is not my only problem.

Holding the centerline on final is still difficult for me. I continue to drift to the left of the centerline. Tom is patient with me, and reminds me that I'm drifting, but at this point he must feel like a broken record.

"Use the control wheel to control your drift. Use the rudder to control which way the nose is pointing."

Boy, am I having trouble using the rudder on final.

"Right rudder! Right rudder!" Tom warns as I flare for landing.

I apply some right rudder, but it's never enough. The plane lands slightly crooked, and I feel that side load on the landing gear again.

"When I say right rudder, I mean right rudder!" Tom is emphatic, but he never gets frustrated. Nerves of steel, this guy.

Continuing to work on soft field takeoffs, and it is very unnerving. I am simulating taking off from a grass field. I am required to pull back on the control wheel in the takeoff roll, thereby lifting the nose wheel off the ground as I roll. This is necessary because the nose wheel is susceptible to bogging down when it is rolling on grass if the grass is wet. Hitting a muddy patch on takeoff roll could result in a terrible accident. Then, once the plane finally lifts off, I am required to push the control wheel forward to stay level with the ground about 20 feet off the ground, still within ground effect which helps the plane stay aloft, until I reach the climbout speed of 75 knots, and then I must pull back and climb out as normal.

The scariest part of this maneuver is immediately after liftoff. The ground seems so close, and I'm trying to accelerate over the ground without descending into it. The soft field takeoff is done with 10 degrees of flaps, and the plane really wants to climb. It takes a lot of strength to push the control wheel forward and stay in ground effect. Tom reminds me to apply nose-down trim so that I don't have to push forward so hard on the control wheel, but it makes me nervous. I know what Tom wants me to do, but once in a while I need extra time to wrap my head around his instructions.

When I'm practicing short field takeoffs, I'm trying to use the shortest amount of runway in my takeoff roll. When I enter the runway, I am required to taxi backwards slightly so that my takeoff roll starts as far back as possible. Once I am on the centerline, I apply full brakes and push the throttle to full, then release the brakes to start my roll, which permits me to accelerate more quickly. When I reach 55 knots, I pull back on the control wheel to pitch the nose up and climb out at only 60 knots. This is Vx, or the speed that permits the best angle of climb, and allows me to more effectively clear an obstacle which might be at the end of the runway. Once I am 50 feet above the ground, I pitch the nose forward for the regular climbout speed of 75 knots.

For both soft field and short field takeoffs, the wing's angle of attack is higher than normal. I must apply a healthy amount of right rudder to counteract P-Factor, torque and gyroscopic precession. Again, Tom reminded me a couple times to apply more right rudder. I know what I must do, and now I simply have to do it.

Continuing to learn. Each lesson offers a small victory.

- Airman Eric

06/28/2009 - "... you'll bounce down the runway like a big rubber ball."

I love hanging out at the airport because there are always interesting aircraft that pop up from time to time. Today, as I was preflighting N172NT, two A-10 Thunderbird Warthogs landed on 4R and parked near the Signature FBO. I think they're getting ready for the Chicago Air Show in a couple weeks. Snapped a quick, discrete photo for posterity.

There is an old aviation adage: "Takeoffs are optional. Landings are mandatory." Today's lesson completely focused on learning how to fly the traffic pattern and land correctly, with accuracy and precision.

We did about a dozen takeoffs and landings at Lansing (IGQ). I'm starting to get a feel for the traffic pattern, but I still have trouble gauging my altitude as I turn base and final. I continue to instinctively push the nose down too much, increasing my airspeed to 80 or even 85 knots. Today, Tom told me at least half a dozen times to keep my airspeed at 70 knots when descending in the pattern.

Here's the issue: I'm definitely battling something subconscious, and I'm pretty sure it's a bad flight simulator habit. For two years I have been making approaches to runways in Flight Simulator with about 50% power, by maintaining level flight until the VASI shows that I am on the glideslope, and then descending at 500 feet per minute until reaching the runway threshold. The end result of approaching the runway like this is that the nose points downward at the runway very early in the approach, and the approach begins very far back.

Tom needs me to approach the runway by overflying the field and entering the traffic pattern from 45 degrees off the downwind leg. He tells me to maintain traffic pattern altitude at 80 knots, 2,000 RPMs, until abeam the touchdown point. From this point, I must descend at 70 knots, turn base, turn final, and then pull back to 65 knots once I have the field made. The end result of approaching the runway the way Tom tells me to is that the nose does not point at the runway threshold until I am on final. It also permits me to always be within gliding distance of the runway. If I suddenly lost the engine, I would still be able to reach the runway.

During almost every approach I made today, I pitched the nose down too much in an effort to keep it pointed at the runway. What I am actually doing is increasing my airspeed, generating more lift, and actually making it more difficult to descend!

"What airspeed do you want?" Tom asks.

I look down at the airspeed indicator. Yep; 80 knots again.

"70 knots." I respond.

I turn base, pulling the nose up, keeping an eye on the airspeed indicator to ensure 70 knots.

The runway is coming up. Time to turn to final. I begin the turn.

"You're turning too early. You want a 30-degree standard turn, and you want to come out of the turn on the extended runway centerline."

I level out early, closing the distance between my ground track and the extended centerline. Then, deja vu.

"What airspeed do you want, Eric?"

I look down at the airspeed indicator. 80 knots again! I'm pitching the nose down too much, too soon!

"70 knots," I respond. And then I look forward at the runway. It's coming up fast. A few seconds have gone by, and I still haven't corrected my airspeed.

"Get to 70 knots, Eric. You're too fast."

I pull the nose back, the airplane begins to slow down, but now the nose of the airplane is pointing way far down the runway. Am I really going to sink to meet the runway in time!?

"Use the control wheel to stay on the centerline. It should look like it's hitting you right in the nose. Pull the throttle to idle and hold 65 knots."

I follow instructions. Still there is so much going on. I'm concentrating on holding the airspeed, and I'm doing that pretty well, but now the centerline is getting away from me. The nose of the airplane is pointing slightly to the left of the runway centerline. But on the bright side, suddenly the descent seems to change. I'm holding 65 knots with the nose pitched downward at the runway, and at last I seem to be descending properly.

Over the runway threshold now. Pulling back slowly to flare for landing, but the nose is still pointing to the left of the centerline.

"Right rudder! Right rudder!" Tom exclaims.

Again, my feet freeze. If I did manage to put in some right rudder, it definitely wasn't enough. We touched down left of the centerline with the airplane pointing slightly to the left. When the wheels touched, I felt my body lurch to the right. Not hard, but it definitely was a sloppy landing. To make matters worse, once I touched down, the plane continued to roll slightly away from the centerline.

"Get back to the centerline. Right rudder," Tom advised.

I slowly made my way back to the centerline, and exited the runway.

"You can't let your airspeed increase, Eric. If you try to land too fast, you'll use up more runway, and you'll have trouble bleeding off airspeed in the flare. You might even float above the runway and lose sight of it, which would be very dangerous. Or, if you do manage to touch down but you're too fast, the ground effect will generate extra lift, and you'll bounce down the runway like a big rubber ball."

I explained to Tom that I know I need to keep my airspeed undercontrol, but I'm battling a subconscious need to point the aircraft at the runway too soon.

"The plane actually descends better at slower airspeed. If you keep your speed at 70 knots in the pattern, you will lose more altitude than if you point the nose down. Let the runway come to you. And you need to use rudder to line the airplane up with the centerline. When something is wrong, don't accept it. Fix it!"

As for failing to put in rudder in the flare, I need to work on that. I'm battling some sort of psychological fear of the rudders. And it's not just on final; I've forgotten to use right rudder to correct for P-Factor in climbing situations as well as slow flight, and I have forgotten to use the rudder in standard turns. I can do serious damage to the airplane if I fail to get in touch with the rudders, and use them effectively.

After a dozen landings today, I still have issues to work out. And I'll work through them, step by step.

Until then...

- Airman Eric

06/25/2009 - "Lookin' out for Goofballs and Yahoos..."

I love the calm after the storm.

For the moment, the atmosphere has shed all of its fury. Calm wind, low humidity, sunshine, and only a few puffy stratus clouds at 6,000+ feet. Today we're going to continue work with slow flight, power-on and power-off stalls, and a whole lotta takeoffs and landings at Bult Field.

We're taking N172NT today. Preflight uneventful. Construction continues on the field, and the closures are significant. When I called up the ATIS today, I made a list of the taxiway and runway closures due to construction: "Runway 31R/13L closed. Runway 31L/13R closed. Taxiway F closed between Y and P. Taxiway K closed between 31C and Y. Taxiway F2 closed. Taxiway F3 closed." We still need to taxi all the way around the tower apron just to be able to get to taxiway K and make our way over to runway 4L.

Good takeoff, climbout and right turn to 180. Becoming better at pegging my altitude and trimming for level flight, although I still occasionally have trouble holding the altitude. Every time I think I'm trimmed for level flight, I start to pay attention to something else in the aircraft, and within seconds, I've lost almost 100 feet. Tom has said that I play with the trim wheel too much, and I seem to be using it to fly the airplane. I am constantly wrestling with this. Tom tells me that the best way to hold level flight is to point the plane to the attitude for level flight, then trim off the control wheel pressure, and let go. I just can't seem to find the trim wheel setting that works; at least not on a consistent basis. And little cross winds that bank the wings make me afraid to let go of the wheel altogether. I guess that for now, my ability to hold level flight still feels like it takes too much effort.

Continued practicing slow flight and power-on/power-off stalls. I'm getting better at holding my heading during slow flight, although I have difficulty keeping my attitude steady. I am also improving my stall recoveries, although I instinctively try to recover before the stalls fully develop. I suppose it's good that my reflexes work to prevent the stalls, but since the examiner is going to want me to recover from full stalls, I have to let the stall develop, and then recover as soon as it happens. Still a work in progress.

Before long, Bult Field is in sight. Today, we begin landing practice. First, Tom instructed me to fly over the field at 2,300 feet and look at each end of the runway for the windsocks. I transmitted on the CTAF, 123.00: "Bult Traffic, Cessna 172NT, four miles to the south, we're going to overfly the field at 2,300, Bult."

Looked down at the threshold of 27, and I could see the windsock indicating winds directly from the west.

"Okay," Tom directed, "we're going to fly out to the southwest for a little bit, until we can turn to enter the downwind leg at a 45 degree angle. That's where other pilots are expecting planes to enter the pattern."

We turned to the southwest and I began to descend, scanning the sky for traffic. The CTAF crackles to life every now and then, but they are destined for other nearby fields who also use 123.0 to declare intentions. No one is inbound for Bult; at least, no one has called in.

"We've descended far enough. Turn right 180 degrees and head back to the runway."

Began the turn; still having trouble holding desired altitude. I dipped below 1,800, then added some throttle and climbed back up to 1,800 again. Held what I thought was a good attitude for 1,800 feet, and then I looked down and saw that I was sinking again! A little bit of nose-up trim, and pulled back on the control wheel slightly. The runway is looming ahead quickly.

"Turn to the right, parallel to the runway," Tom commands. "Throttle back to 2,000 RPMs."

I make the turn, pull the throttle back. I look to the left and try to stay parallel to the runway. Suddenly, Tom says, "Don't descend in the pattern."

I look down, and I've descended to 1,700 feet again. I forgot to adjust the trim when I pulled the throttle back to 2,000. The plane continues to take me by surprise.

Passing abeam the runway threshold, Tom says, "Pull the throttle back to 1,600. Add 10 degrees of flaps. Trim for 70 knots."

Trying to follow directions, but I keep pitching the nose down too far, descending too fast, and pushing the airspeed too high.

"Turn left 90 degrees for base. Pull back. You want 70 knots."

Everything is happening so fast. I pull back, and concentrate on keeping the airspeed. Then I look up, and see the runway coming up. I start to think about when to turn.

"Don't add any more flaps. We're too low. 70 knots!"

I look down at the airspeed indicator, and see that I am getting up to 80 knots again. I know that I have to control the airspeed with the pitch of the airplane, and that I am pushing the nose down too far. But I'm overwhelmed. How far should I pull back? What if I pull back too far?

"Extend the runway centerline towards us. You want to line up right on the center. Turn left now."

I bank the wings, too shallow, and overshoot the runway centerline.

"You're too far to the right of the runway. Bank the wings. Turn the control wheel to the left. We're too low. Push in the throttle a little. Pull back."

So much to do!

Within seconds, I'm to the left of the centerline. Tom tells me to bank the wings to the right.

"The centerline of the runway should look like it's hitting you in the nose. The centerline should be straight up and down."

Trying to hold it. Turning the control wheel all over the place.

"Pull out the throttle."

I hesitate. It's not like I don't trust Tom... I'm just overwhelmed by the whole experience. And some part my brain says, "Don't do that! You'll crash."

"Pull out the throttle. All the way," Tom commands.

I pull the throttle out to idle. The nose pitches downward, and the runway is getting close.

"Full flaps," Tom orders.

Flaps all the way down. The nose pitches down even more, and the runway is coming up at us very quickly. Tom's right hand hovers over his control wheel, ready to take control at any moment.

"This is good," Tom comments. "Hold this attitude."

But, I thought, the runway is coming up so fast!

Within 20 feet of the runway now, and we're pitched down straight at it. I feel like we're going to crash into it. I instinctively pull back on the control wheel; too much, and too soon.

"Don't pull back!" chides Tom. "Let the plane..."

No time to talk. We balloon in the air, 15 feet over the runway. Too high and too slow!

"I'm going to help you with this," Tom says. I know what that means, I smile.

Tom pushes forward slightly, bringing the runway even closer. He pulls back the control wheel to flare, but I am slow to follow him.

"Right rudder. Right rudder!" Tom commands. My right foot freezes in place. I felt panicked, and I couldn't move. I confess; I didn't push down on that foot pedal.

The wheels touch down with the nose of the plane pointing to the left of the centerline. Instantly, my body lurches to the right as a side load is placed on the landing gear. The nose gear comes down, and Tom pushes down the right rudder to help us get back on the centerline.

"Apply brakes," Tom says. I do so, and the plane begins to slow down as the centerline comes back to us. I see a taxiway approaching, but we are too fast to make it.

"Go to the next taxiway. Slow down."

Finally, we slow down enough to turn left at the next taxiway. I breathe a sigh of relief. Tom breathes a sigh of frustration... Well, maybe not frustration. I guess it was the sigh of a man who has a lot of work to do.

"Use the control wheel to line up with the runway centerline, and use the rudder to point the plane straight down the runway. You landed with the nose pointed to the left, which put a side load on the landing gear. You also need to descend at a steady airspeed of 70 knots. You were up to 80 knots a couple times, which brought us down too low. Don't chase the airplane. Make it do what you want it to do."

We rolled completely clear of the runway, and I turned to the left.

"After landing checklist," requested Tom. "Carb heat in, flaps up. Report on the radio that you are clear of the runway."

Followed directions. Transmitted on the CTAF, "Bult Traffic, Cessna 172NT clear of runway 27, Bult."

"Remember, too," warned Tom, "Fly the airplane first, talk on the radio second. You should only talk on the radio during straight flight. Don't talk on the radio in the turns."

We taxied to the threshold of runway 27. Tom asked me to stop before turning to face the runway completely.

"You want to stop at a 45 degree angle to the runway hold short line. This way, you can see any goofballs that are coming in for final without calling on the radio first."

I laughed. "What kind of a yahoo is going to approach the airport without calling?"

"It happens all the time!" chucked Tom. "Calling on the radio isn't required. It's a courtesy. And you're going to see that not all pilots are as courteous as they should be."

"Just like driving on the highway," I responded.

"Yup. There are bad pilots just like there are bad drivers."

We get ready to go around again. Performed Lights, Camera, Action. This is simply a quick flow check to catch any irregularities before taking off again:

"Lights" - Make sure that the beacon is on and that any necessary lights are working.
"Camera" - Make sure the transponder is on, and squawking the correct code.
"Action" - Beginning with the trim wheel, I make sure that all of the instruments and other settings are correct for takeoff. Takeoff trim; fuel mixture from both tanks; flaps up; mixture rich; throttle to 1,000; carb heat in; circuit breakers on, amp gauge centered; oil pressure in the green; fuel sufficient; suction gauge in the green; heading indicator correct; altimeter set; ADF set to wind direction.

Performed all of the checks. Everything looks good.

"Now, scan the approach area to make sure that no one is coming," Tom reminds me.

I scan the skies above. "Lookin' out for Goofballs and Yahoos," I reply.

Tom laughs. Sometimes I'm funny.

Performed 8 more takeoffs and landings at Bult. Just when I started to control my altitude better, I started having problems with the airspeed. It seemed that I turned to final too soon every single time. Tom was constantly reminding me to pull back on the control wheel because I was descending to the runway too quickly. I repeatedly rolled out left of the centerline, and had to bank to the right to chase it. And although I started becoming more comfortable with flaring, I repeatedly failed to apply enough right rudder pressure to aim the plane parallel with the runway.

"Okay, it's almost time to head back. Let's taxi to the fuel area. You need to learn how to fill up the tanks so you'll be prepared for your cross country flights."

We taxied to the ramp, and pulled up alongside a large AVGAS 100LL tank. The tank accepted credit cards and cash. Tom used his company credit, and I bought a much needed Pepsi from a vending machine on the field.

Before filling up, Tom showed me how to ground the airplane using a cable that connects to the tank and dissipates any static electricity that might cause a spark during fillup. And with the exception of the enormous length of the hose, the gas nozzle was very similar to any nozzle I have ever used to fill up the gas tank in my car. Tom brought out a ladder, and I climbed up to get at the fuel tanks in the top of each wing. I asked Tom to take a quick picture of me as I prepared to fill up the left tank (shown above). My first fill-up; another personal aviation milestone.

Took off from Bult, headed in to Midway; the rest of the lesson was uneventful. I overflew the field for runway 4L, stayed too high for too long in the pattern, and had some trouble pitching down for the runway on final. Touched down about 500 feet further back than Tom wanted me to, and still put it down to the left of the centerline with some minor side load on the landing gear. This whole landing thing is going to take some getting used to.

Next lesson, we're going to continue with many, many landings. Practice makes perfect.

- Airman Eric

06/24/2009 - "That was scary..."

Checked the Terminal Area Forecast, and the weather looks good today. Nothing on radar, steady winds, smooth air. It's quite warm and humid today, and sweat is dripping off the end of my nose as I conduct pre-flight for good ol' 737ME. We don't have any air conditioning in this plane! There are vents which let in a good amount of air when the plane is in motion, and we can unlatch the windows to let in some air when we are taxiing on the ground, but for the moment, we are sitting in an oven with wings!

We're going to continue practicing slow flight, as well as power-off and power-on stalls. For the rest of the lesson, we will concentrate on landings and takeoffs at Bult Field.

Preflight, departure clearance, engine run-up uneventful. They've closed off taxiway F, so we need to taxi all the way to the other side of the tower apron before we can call ground for our taxi clearance. Luckily, Midway is departing from the 4's today, the thresholds of which are just off the tower apron, making for a short, smooth taxi to runway 4L.

Smooth climbout, a right turn to 180, flew clear of MDW's airspace, and began maneuvers.

First up: slow flight. While it is still tricky to hold my heading and altitude while flying at 40 knots with flaps fully extended, I must say that I am improving. I'm getting the hang of changing my heading by using varying amounts of rudder pressure and very little bank. Still, the nose-up attitude required for slow flight is somewhat unnerving. I'm going to need to continue practicing slow flight, although I am having an easier time applying the proper amount of rudder pressure when I pull my seat far enough forward before starting the engine.

Recovered from slow flight, and looked to the north to see a steadily thickening gray haze which seemed to begin at the lakefront and continue westbound for a few miles. At first, this haze didn't seem to be different than any other hazy conditions when we have seen before, but Tom commented that the haze seemed to be thickening. It seemed to be a very localized haze, which caused Tom to wonder if some sort of storm activity was developing. And yet, I remembered that there was nothing on the forecast. Surely, if a thunderstorm were brewing, we would have some warning!

Moved on to power-off stalls. I pulled out the carb heat, pulled the throttle back to 1,600 RPMs, steadily extended flaps to full, pulled the throttle to idle, then pulled back to simulate clearing an obstacle near the runway. Continued pulling back to cause a stall, and as soon as the stall began, pushed forward slightly on the control wheel to resume normal flight, pushed the throttle to full, pushed in the carb heat, retracted flaps to 20 degrees, held slow flight attitude until the airspeed began to increase, and retracted the flaps completely once the airspeed rose above 65 knots.

Two things I need to improve here. First, I was taking too long to set up for the stall. I need to remember that I am not conducting a full landing, so I don't need to take more than a couple seconds between each flap setting as I am getting ready for the stall. Today, Tom reminded me a couple times that I shouldn't lose so much altitude when I am setting up for a power-off stall. Second, I need to be much gentler with my control wheel movements, both before and after the stall. On my first stall today, I pushed forward too much on the control wheel and pushed the airplane almost straight down! On another maneuver, I tried to pull back too soon after the recovery, and created a secondary stall. The secret to stall recoveries is to limit myself to gentle control movements. Control surfaces are very effective, and I cannot underestimate the effects that my control motions have on the aircraft.

Turned toward Bult Field (C56). It's a quiet airstrip about 25 miles to the south of Midway, with just one runway: 9/27. We transmitted on the Common Terminal Advisory Frequency, 123.000, that we intended to overfly the field at 2,300 feet. I snapped a quick photograph as we approached from the west (shown here to the right). There is no automated weather information at this tiny field, but at the foot of each end of the runway, there is a windsock. As the wind blows across the surface, it turns the windsock, and pilots can look at it from the air to determine the wind direction, which aids us in our runway selection. We could tell that the wind was coming from the west today, which means we are going to be using runway 27 because we want to land facing into the wind.

Descended to traffic pattern altitude, which at this airport is 1,800 feet. Called entering downwind on the CTAF, pulled out the carb heat, and pulled the throttle back to 2,000 RPMs; trimmed for 80 knots. Tom coached me through each leg of the traffic pattern. When we were abeam the runway threshold, I pulled the throttle back to 1,600 and extended 10 degrees of flaps. Turned base, but lost too much altitude in the turn. Tom reminded me that I must pull back on the control wheel slightly when I am turning because some of the lift is spent to turn the airplane. As I turned final, I turned too early, and now because I lost so much altitude on my base leg I was also too low. Tom told me to apply a little bit of throttle to hold my altitude, and I overshot the runway centerline two times before lining up on it. At last, I was close enough to the runway to ensure that I would make it, so with Tom's blessing, I pulled the throttle to idle and extended 20 degrees of flaps. Flared too early, pitched the nose downward, then pulled back to flare, but landed all three wheels at the same time. Failed to use rudder to straighten out the plane, and put a bit of a side load on the landing gear as well. Tom wasn't happy.

"Don't lose so much altitude in the pattern. Avoid pitching down so much in the turns. Let the airplane get closer to the runway before flaring. You want the nose pointed into the air as you touch down so that all of the load goes to the main landing gear, and you have to use some right rudder to straighten the airplane out on the centerline or the side load can cause a blow out. Otherwise, good landing."

In addition to the gift of understatement, Tom possesses the gift of back-handed compliments. Ha.

We taxied off of the runway, and I called on the CTAF to tell any other pilots in the area that I was clear of runway 27. Performed the after-landing checklist, or as I'll call it, I cleaned up the airplane. No, this doesn't mean that I picked up trash in the cockpit, although it is a good idea to do that before leaving the aircraft. "Cleaning up the airplane" simply means that I pushed the carb heat in and retracted the flaps so that the airplane will be ready for takeoff. I taxied back toward runway 27, getting ready to go again.

And then, Tom and I both saw it. The grey haze we saw earlier had now grown to a dark, ominous sheet of black mist. From our vantage point, the localized cloud was 6 or 7 miles away, and it was difficult to tell if it was producing rain or not.

"Wow! Where in the world did that come from!?" Tom gasped.

"Do you think that's a rain storm?" I wondered.

"We'll get a better look at it from the air, but I can tell you right now that it doesn't look good."

Called on the CTAF to announce our intentions to take off from runway 27, punched the throttle to full, and climbed out at 75 knots.

"Turn to the north," Tom directed, his eyes fixated on the dark grey clouds.

I banked to the north, and stared at the storm cell in the distance.

"Wow!" exclaimed Tom. "That's rain, alright. And a lot of it."

I instantly realized that this was definitely a strong storm, and that it had popped up out of nowhere. I have seen hundreds of storms in my lifetime, but only from the ground. When you're watching a rainstorm from the air, it's like watching a dark grey sheet which dangles from the clouds and shrouds the ground in an opaque mist. We were flying in warm, humid air with the sunshine beating down on our heads, but the distant wall of rain dragged over the ground like a heavy curtain, and it was clear that this wall of rain was so dense that no amount of sunshine could penetrate it. I asked Tom to take the airplane for a moment so that I could snap a couple shots, but I assure you that my photos just don't do the storm justice. The veil of darkness was almost black, and I watched it envelop trees and buildings as it crept closer. 5 miles away. 4 miles away. I finished taking my photos, and asked Tom to control the plane again. Then, just as Tom responded "You have the airplane", the plot thickened.

I saw a white bolt of lightning zip from the cloud tops all the way to the ground.

"I see lightning!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah," agreed Tom. "And it's headed this way. We need to go back. Continue north, and get the ATIS information."

The ATIS at Midway wasn't that bad. Wind out of the northeast, only 7 knots, and landing on the 4's. Good, I thought. The storm hasn't reached Midway yet.

But when I contacted Midway Tower, the controller's voice was very stressed. We called in our intention to land, and he acknowledged us amid frantic reports of wind shear and microbursts at the thresholds of several runways. Wind shear means that the wind is radically changing direction very close to the runway, which can spell disaster for aircraft on final or takeoff. And microbursts are winds that press downward right next to the runways, which can cause landing or departing aircraft to suddenly sink. Both of these phenomena are very dangerous, especially when you're flying a little Cessna like we are.

The storm was now three miles off our right wing. Sudden density changes in the atmosphere would cause the plane to lose altitude unexpectedly. I would sink 100 feet, then push in the throttle a little and try to climb back up to 1,900, but the density would change again and I would sink. On a couple occasions, the wings banked unexpectedly to the left, and I applied control wheel pressure to keep the wings level. I began to feel nervous, and I asked Tom to take the airplane.

"I have the airplane," Tom dutifully responded.

I pulled the shoulder strap of my seatbelt tightly, made sure my feet were clear of the rudder pedals, and concentrated on snapping pictures of the storm.



Tower gave us multiple traffic advisories. Here's a picture of an executive business jet that passed in front of us on approach to 4R. Tower suddenly gave us a frantic instruction.

"Cessna 737ME, fly heading 310. Traffic at your 9 o'clock, 2 miles, a 737 inbound for 4R."

Tom turned slightly to the left to head 310, and I looked out our left window. To my surprise, I saw a very LARGE Southwest 737 headed straight for us, our altitude, and I was amazed as it loomed larger and larger in the window. I tried to snap several shots of this incredible sight, but we were very quickly out of his way, and none of my shots came out. There was never a danger of conflict, but this experience served as a reminder that there are some big planes out there!


Once the Southwest jet was behind us, Tom asked Tower if we could turn to final. Tower cleared us to land on 4L. There was some rocky air on the way down; crosswinds picking up; Tom put us into a slip to get down to the runway. The landing was a little rough, and as we exited the runway, I looked up to see the thunderstorm bearing down on us.

"That was scary..." Tom confessed.

We heard several pilots asking the ground controller about the weather, and the controller continued to report wind shear and microbursts in the vicinity of the airport. The ground controller was asking pilots if they were ready to taxi, and I heard two Southwest pilots saying, "No. We're going to stay right here and wait until this blows over."

Pilots flying 737's don't want to take off in this weather, and we're landing in it. ;)

Taxied into the parking spot, and when I shut down the engine and popped open the door, I was hit with a blast of cool, damp air. The temperature has dropped 25 degrees in 15 minutes! Tom and I rushed to tie down our little Cessna as the storm started to roll over the field.

I looked to the north edge of the field. I knew that the rain was going to start falling within seconds, but I couldn't resist snapping this shot. I took this picture from the tower apron, looking north. Only ten seconds before this picture was taken, I could clearly see the large Southwest hangers on the far edge of the field. As you can see, the storm has completely obscured everything.

"Uh, Eric?" Tom admonished, "Hurry it up... I don't want to get drenched!"

I smiled, and jogged alongside Tom as we hurried to the FBO, and made it inside just as the rain really started to pour down on us.

I've spoken to several pilots about this pop-up thunderstorm today, and all of them agreed that there hasn't been a sudden thunderstorm like this in Chicago for at least 10 years. The radar forecast during my pre-flight was completely clear, and here is how it looked just 90 minutes later! The consensus is that cool air from off the lake merged with warm, dense air over the city, and developed into a storm cell. Every pilot was caught off guard. A friend of mine flying out of Los Angeles to Chicago was delayed for several hours while ATC tried to figure out how long the storm was going to stay. And as I drove home, the rain flooded my windshield so badly that I couldn't see the car directly ahead of me. Wind whipped several small rocks off the rooftops next to 63rd street and pelted my truck, cracking my windshield in two places, and leaving a nasty scratch on the driver's side door.

Quite the adventure. I was glad that Tom took the aircraft over, and we made it back just in time. I learned a very valuable lesson today; as pilots, we must respect the weather!

It's about time to start practicing landings, and lots of them. But that will have to wait until next time!

- Airman Eric

06/22/2009 - "Much better!"

Today's lesson was all about getting back in the saddle after my sloppy performance last time. I've thought about my last lesson quite a bit, and I've come to some conclusions about it.

Conclusion #1: I am still combatting my bad Flight Simulator habit of fixating on the instruments. When you're flying on the computer, the scenery just isn't that reliable for helping you determine the plane's attitude. The scenery all looks the same, and simulating VFR on the computer, especially ground reference maneuvers, is almost pointless. Picking an intersection on the ground to fly around is almost impossible because the scenery all looks the same. Instead of picking a red farmhouse to fly around, when you're on the computer, you constantly have to ask yourself, "Now... which red farmhouse was I flying around!?"

When you're flying on the computer, the scenery doesn't provide a lot of information, so you wind up relying on the instruments a lot. In real life, however, using visual references while flying, by looking over the nose of the airplane, over the windowsill, or out to the wing, is so much more effective than trying to gauge your attitude by looking at the instruments. In a previous blog entry, I had said that the flight instruments show altitude changes 2-3 seconds after that change is already happening. In fact, I have learned through my ground school study that those instruments are showing where the airplane was 6-9 seconds ago! No wonder I'm having trouble holding altitude in ground reference maneuvers; I'm chasing the needles! During this lesson, I'm going to concentrate so much harder on the visual picture the airplane is giving me, and use the instruments only as backup information.

Conclusion #2: The warm, humid air last lesson was definitely affecting my ability to hold altitude. Instead of whining about it, what I must do as a pilot is compensate for it! What if the air during my checkride is bumpy? I can't reschedule for another day! A pilot must work with what Mother Nature gives him, within reason. When I fly on hot, humid days, I'm going to have to be aware of that fact and be prepared for the plane to handle differently. The wind may change direction unexpectedly, causing heading and altitude fluctuations, and the controls will require more input to get the same result. As I conducted pre-flight check today, I could tell that the air was much smoother and much more arid, so I don't expect to have the same problems today. However, I know that it's summertime, and I will have to face the same humid conditions again before too long.

Conclusion #3: I forgot to eat before my last lesson! I thought back, and I realized that I had eaten only a few chicken strips the night before, and only had a cup of coffee in the morning. As I was flying, I began to feel tired, and a little out of touch with the plane. Well, no wonder! I hadn't eaten a respectable meal in more than 12 hours, and my blood sugar was probably quite low. Before today's lesson, I was certain to have a big bowl of cereal for breakfast, and even munched a quick Snickers bar in the FBO before going out to the plane. I already feel better compared to yesterday. In the future, I will be certain to eat some food before flying, and I will instruct my passengers to do the same!

Flying 737ME today. Pre-flight, taxi, and takeoff uneventful. The air definitely was much smoother today, and my climbout from Midway was exactly 75 knots.

"You've got your airspeed pegged," commented Tom.

That's a good start!

When we were clear of Midway's airspace to the south, we turned to the southeast to practice ground reference maneuvers. Tom pointed out a very interesting rock quarry as we neared Lansing, and I snapped a couple photos (shown above and to the right). I still cannot get over the beauty of viewing the world from the air. Sure, I've seen plenty of aerial views out of the window when I have flown on commercial aircraft. But everything goes by so fast, and once you climb above 10,000 feet, all of the detail is lost. Oh, and of course, you can only see the world through a little peephole compared to the full range view you enjoy as a pilot! I love it when the sky is clear except for a few puffy clouds, because those clouds generate shadows on the landscape on such a huge scale that only pilots can appreciate them. I still haven't flown during sunrise or sunset, and I still haven't viewed the city skyline from the water. I am required to do some night flights as part of my training for my license, and I hope that I can start as the sun is going down so that I can enjoy the sunset from the air. These are the things to come.

Compared to my last lesson, things are already looking up. I am finally getting the hang of the attitude necessary to maintain level flight. The difference in nose attitude between level flight, climb and descent is very, very subtle! I still sometimes start to descend without realizing it, and Tom says I am making too many trim adjustments. I need to set the trim to a nominal position, and then use the control wheel to fly the plane!

Time for ground reference maneuvers. 2,300 RPMs, 97 knots. We'll start with turns around a point.

My failures to hold altitude fresh in my mind, I looked to the ground and chose a T-intersection next to a school building. I know that it was a school building because I could see yellow school buses parked in the back! I thought about the wind at my back, and I remembered that I would need to bank up to 30 degrees initially to overcome the plane's inertia, then slowly shallow out the bank as the plane turned into the wind. At the end of the first quarter turn, I was holding altitude very well and seemed to be tracking a circular course over the ground. Shallowing out the bank more. Pulling back on the control wheel to keep from sinking. Halfway through the first turn; still holding altitude, still keeping a good ground track. Steepening the bank steadily as the plane continues the circle and begins to turn away from the wind. Finishing the first turn, continuing into the second.

"Much better!" congratulated Tom. "You've got your altitude and airspeed pegged."

Keeping an eye on the school building. Maintaining altitude +/- 50 feet, and the ground track looks good. Completed the second turn and leveled out.

"That was very good! Let's move on to S-Turns."

I'm on a roll and I have no fear. S-Turns are just like turns around a point in terms of execution, except I'm going to make an "S" over the ground rather than a circle. Took a few minutes to trim the airplane and find a road that was long enough and far away from power lines. Finally, I found a suitable road and began the turn.

In the first half of the "S", I began with a steep 30-degree bank to the left, than steadily shallowed all the way to 10 degrees as I crossed the road again. Immediately as I crossed the road, I banked to the right until I had 10 degrees of bank the other way, and steadily increased the bank until I reached 30 degrees as I crossed the road a second time.

"Wow! You've really improved since last time," Tom encouraged. Yahtzee!

Moved on to slow flight, remembering how hard I had to push down on that right rudder pedal in order to hold my heading. Carb heat on, throttle to 1,600, extended flaps step by step until 40 degrees, throttle back up to 2,100 to hold altitude at 40-50 knots. Stall horn is whining. Sinking a little; pulling back on the control wheel to hold altitude. Still sinking; adding a little throttle to keep my speed up. Tom asked me to turn to the west, and I did so, only 10 degrees of bank. The plane seems to turn unpredictably; I can't depend on the bank to turn the plane as consistently as it does at higher airspeeds. I need to work on using rudder pressure to turn the plane in slow flight. I've certainly improved my technique since last lesson, but my slow flight maneuvers are still not satisfactory. Much more work to be done.

Worked on power-on and power-off stalls. Still very sloppy in the recovery. The purpose of practicing stall recoveries is to establish an automatic response that will kick in if I should ever stall the plane accidentally. In the power-on stall, I need to allow the stall to develop, but recover before the plane reaches level flight attitude, and double check that the carb heat is off, throttle at full, flaps retracted by physically touching the controls. In a power-off stall, I must recover before the plane reaches level flight, push the throttle to full and flaps to 20 degrees to establish slow flight attitude, and slowly retract flaps once I have a positive rate until I can resume normal climbing speed. As I worked these stalls today, I repeatedly allowed the nose to dive too far down. I need to find a balance between quickly recovering from the critical angle of attack and avoiding unnecessary altitude loss. I've got room to grow on this one.

We were pretty close to Lansing Regional, and it was time to get in a few landings. It's going to take some time for me to become comfortable with the traffic pattern. I'm getting used to the power settings required for landing, and I never seem to be able to keep the runway centerline. We did three landings on runway 27 at Lansing today, and they were pretty rough. All three times, I landed to the left of the centerline, and landed flat on all three wheels rather than sticking most of the landing on the main gear. It is very important to touch down with the main gear first, because it is much more stable and much stronger than the nose gear. I'm going to be making many, many more landings before I can feel comfortable with the procedures involved.

It's time to head back. Nothing remarkable about the entry into Midway's airspace, although Tom commented that I am holding my altitude of 1,900 much better today. Tower told us to make straight in for runway 31L, and just before we set up on final, the tower controller told us to make a left 270 degree turn to ensure that we wouldn't be landing parallel to a big Southwest 737. I made the turn, and came out a little high on the approach. Tom took the airplane to the ground so that he could make sure that we bled off enough altitude for the landing, and Tower asked us to turn left on 4R/22L to K, and Ground gave us our taxi to the apron.

Today's lesson was all about vidication. I had a bad day last lesson, and today I corrected those mistakes. As Tom told me, flying a plane is a unique activity. I'm going to have a bad day or two, but the important thing is to get back in the cockpit as soon as possible and try it again. Tom was pleased with my ground reference maneuvers, and says that we are going to give it a rest for a little while. Next lesson, we will concentrate on slow flight, stalls, and make a whole bunch of takeoffs and landings.

Can't wait.

- Airman Eric

06/20/2009 - "What's with your altitude today?"

I've been told by several licensed pilots that I'm going to have some rough lessons, where no matter what I do, I can't demonstrate a skill properly, and might even feel like I'm regressing. I think it's safe to say that after today's lesson, I have reached my first plateau.

Tom and I met at the FBO lobby, and he asked me to pre-flight N737ME (shown to the left). I used the checklists to examine the airplane, look over the rivets (no loose screws this time), make sure the control surfaces move freely, check the fuel for water or sediment, check the tires for inflation, check the oil level, examine the propeller, pitot tube and static port, and climb up on top of the wings to visually check for the fuel level. All is well, and I've gotten into a pre-flight flow where I know what must be done and I am more comfortable with it. This doesn't mean that I'm going to ever gloss over details of the pre-flight. I learned during my pre-flight walkaround of N172NT yesterday that irregular indications can pop up even when the same aircraft has been flown only hours before!

On that note... Tom admitted to me today that the airspeed indicator and altimeter in N172NT are giving incorrect readings. The problem has more to do with the instruments themselves, as opposed to the pitot tube or static source. Tom told me that the mechanic knows about these problems, and the flight school is addressing them one at a time. Hey, it's an old plane! There are bound to be little idiosyncrasies. As long as the plane is safe, we'll be flying in it.

Taxied to the edge of the tower apron for run-up, and read each item from the checklist in my hand. All of a sudden, Tom stopped me.

"You missed something."

I looked back at the checklist, and sure enough, I had skipped over the Flight Controls section of the run-up, where I move the control wheel and rudder pedals to ensure that all of the control surfaces are working properly. Remember how I was saying that I'm getting familiar with the checklists? Well, sure, but I'm not so familiar with it that I can do it from memory! Part of the problem must be that as I am reading the checklist silently and performing the steps, my eyes might skip a step or two. I can't afford that, so I promise myself that I will read checklist items out loud from this point forward.

I hoped that this would be my last mistake of the lesson.

Tower gave us a taxi to runway 31L via F, F4. I contacted tower, announced that we're ready to go. He gave us takeoff clearance, with a left turn to heading 180.

I start to pull back on the control wheel at about 50 knots indicated airspeed, and the plane slowly lifts off. Within seconds, the nose is pitching up too high, and the airspeed is dropping below 60.

"Not so much! Push forward!" Tom warned... not panicking, but not calm, either. Okay... yes, we're supposed to practice some power-on stalls today. But it is NOT a good idea to practice them 300 feet over the ground! I pushed forward on the control wheel and achieved a pretty good climb rate of 75 knots. At this point, I was a little frustrated with myself. I've never made that mistake on takeoff roll before. I hoped that this would be my last, last mistake of the lesson.

Levelled off below 2,000, trimmed for cruise. A little bumpy today. The air is thicker and warmer than usual, which Tom points out can cause the aircraft to lose performance. Flew clear of MDW's airspace, then turned to the southwest to reach the country roads and practice ground reference maneuvers.

I've watched the ground school DVD repeatedly and I completely understand the concept of ground reference maneuvers. The purpose is to track a predictable path over the ground while holding altitude, either making a circle around a stationary point, tracking a rectangular course which follows four different roads, or making S-turns across a road. I performed two clearing turns and pointed the aircraft to the south, with the wind at my back. I pulled the throttle back to 2,300 RPMs, and trimmed the aircraft to hold altitude at maneuvering speed, 97 knots. The first task to make a turn around a point.

Tom asked me to pick a point on the ground. I chose an intersection of two country roads, and when I was abeam the intersection off my left wing, I began to bank.

After a few seconds, Tom said, "Steepen the bank. You're turning too wide."

I followed directions, and looked over my left wing at the intersection. It seemed to be the same distance from the aircraft. If I were in fact turning too wide, the intersection would slowly seem to get further away as I turned around it. No sooner did I steepen the bank then Tom said, "More shallow, now!"

Argh! So far, I'm a little bit behind the airplane. Changes are happening that I am not responding to fast enough. I looked over my left wing, and NOW the intersection seemed a little closer.

"Don't let the nose drop. You're descending."

Pulled back on the control wheel to compensate. Crossed the road after 1/4 turn with the nose of the airplane pointing slightly to the outside of the circle. At this point, I realized that when I originally steepened the bank, it was too much for too long. Now I was heading slightly away from the center of my circle, and my problems continued in the second 1/4 turn.

"Don't level out. Bank the wings more. You're climbing. Push forward on the control wheel."

I'm behind on everything! Halfway through the turn, I had lost almost 200 feet and I had overcompensated for my bogus heading in the first quarter turn, and now I was closing the circle too much. By the time I made it back around to the beginning of the circle, I levelled the wings, secretly glad that the horrible turn was over.

One small problem.

"Turns around a point are always two turns. When the first turn finishes, you just continue turning into the second one."

I knew that.

"I'm going to try again," I said, determined to make this right.

Trimmed for 1,800 feet @ 97 knots, chose another intersection, but Tom pointed out that the intersection I had chosen was too close to a bank of power lines. Granted, our altitude would allow us to fly well above the power lines, but in the event of an engine failure, we do NOT want to make an emergency landing anywhere near power lines! During my checkride, I will have to choose points for my ground reference maneuvers, which pretty much makes me the agent of my own success or destruction. I will need to choose a point that are distinctive, and far away from power lines, towers or other obstructions.

Continued for another 1/2 mile, and found a farm house with a red roof at a country road intersection, not a power line in sight. Lined myself up for the maneuver, and when I was abeam the point, I began my turn.

Tom had told me that my initial bank in my last turn was too shallow, so I made certain not to make the same mistake twice. Instead, I made entirely new ones.

"Your bank is too steep. Shallow out a little. The nose is dropping. Pull back on the control wheel. You've lost 100 feet..."

I was just all over the place. And once again, I levelled off after one turn when in fact I am supposed to perform two. I sighed with frustration when Tom reminded me for the second time in 10 minutes that I must make 2 full turns around the point.

"You were much better at this last lesson," Tom commented, tongue-in-cheek.

Good point. What was going on? I had been receiving compliment after compliment with each thing I had done during lessons, and now, it seemed that I couldn't do anything right. It was time to move on to S-Turns, and I vowed that my problems in turns around a point would be my last, last, last mistake of the lesson.

But, I never broke out of my funk. I had trouble holding altitude in the turns, banked too much, banked too little, rolled out late... it was a sloppy mess. I completed my second S-turn, and Tom pointed out the altimeter.

"You've lost 300 feet. What's with your altitude today?"

"I really don't know! I guess I'm tired," I shrugged.

"Don't get frustrated," Tom encouraged. "I've beat you up enough on this stuff. Let's do some slow flight."

Slow flight wasn't much better! I slowed the aircraft down and extended full flaps. At such slow speed with full flaps extended, the plane's nose must point up in order to hold altitude. 'Tried' being the operative word. It took me a while to balance the power I needed to hold altitude while maintaining only 40 knots. And P-Factor was consistently pulling the plane to the left.

"You need more right rudder," instructed Tom.

I pushed down my right foot, but the plane continued to pull to the left.

"I'm already pressing it as far as it will go!"

"No, you're not!" laughed Tom.

Tom pushed his right foot down along with me, and I was absolutely shocked by how far down that pedal could go. The wind resistance from the propeller makes it very difficult to deflect the rudder as far as is necessary to overcome the turning force generated by P-Factor and keep the plane going straight. I had to push my body down so far in the seat to reach the full range of the rudder pedal, I could barely see over the nose. It took all of my leg strength to keep the pedal down.

As it turns out, the solution to my rudder problem is simple. My seat was too far back! I'm used to driving my big pickup truck, with the driver's seat all the way back, where I can have all of the leg room in the world. I can't do that when I'm flying, because I need to do more than simply touch the pedals... I need to be able to push that right rudder pedal as far down as it will go when I'm in slow flight. From now on, I'll be pulling my seat forward further when I fly to ensure that I don't have this problem anymore.

There was a bright moment in the lesson... I am becoming more comfortable with power-on and power-off stalls. I'm not as good at recovering from the stalls as I need to be; I'm still losing too much altitude before recovering. But, I look forward to working on that in coming lessons.

Time to head back. Approached Midway from the south, called up Tower, was given a squawk code and instructions to fly straight in for runway 31L. Followed Tom's instructions to set up the approach. RPM's back to 1,600, flaps to 20. When glide was assured, I pulled the throttle to idle and the flaps to full. I tend to be left of the centerline, and today wasn't any different, so Tom instructed me several times to line up on the centerline properly. Tom let me fly the plane all the way to the ground, but kept his hand near his control wheel in case I made a mistake. I pulled back too early, floated a little high, burned off too much speed, and came down on runway 31L a little hard. This is a running theme for me. I'm learning more and more that the point at which I should pull back on the control wheel and level out on landing is about 5 feet lower than I am actually doing it. I guess I have this elaborate fear of the ground, but to level out too early is to my detriment, as well as the landing gear's! Tower gave us a backtaxi on 13R, a right turn on 22L, and a left turn on F to the tower apron.

A rough lesson. I feel like I did almost nothing right, and the real kicker is that I was better at ground reference maneuvers just two days ago. Am I regressing?

No, of course not. I just had a bad day. Tom told me that he can think of several occasions where one bad thing happened to him, then another, and another. Tom assured me that the key to get through it is to address problems one step at a time, and don't let them throw you, or you might make new mistakes while you fixate on the old ones.

I'm back in the saddle in two days... not that I'm counting or anything!

- Airman Eric

06/18/2009 - "Maneuvering speed is 2,200 knots!?"

I've been driving on Chicago roads for 17 years, and summertime around here is always marked by ridiculous amounts of road construction. It seems that every time you turn a corner, another orange construction sign gives you an irritating command. And the delays! Long lines of cars wait to merge into a single lane that isn't going any faster... and don't you hate the drivers that make the problem worse by cruising down the emergency lane and thicken the bottleneck even more?

Here's a fun photo of four aircraft lining up for Runway 22L as we turned base for runway 22R today. Pilots don't have an emergency lane that they can use to jockey for a better position. They line up on the taxiway and wait their turn! If only the drivers on the highways would do the same thing... but I digress...

Guess what? Summertime is marked by airport construction, too! Taxiway K is still closed between Y and F, and Taxiway F is closed from Runway 4R all the way back to Taxiway W. As I conducted preflight walkaround of good ol' Cessna 172NT, I looked down F and saw half a dozen trucks with yellow flashing lights zipping around working on the taxiway, kicking up a good amount of dust. Just like the repair trucks on I-94!

A couple irregularities on preflight today. I found a loose screw on the right side of the vertical stabilizer (a.k.a. the plane's tail, shown here to the right). Luckily, the fuel sample cup has a screwdriver attachment, and with a couple turns, the screw was tightened. This is, of course, exactly the reason we do preflight checks. The fuselage undergoes stresses in flight and when landing, and the vibrations alone can be enough to loosen a screw or two. I noticed a second irregularity during the preflight; when I powered on the avionics, and set the altimeter according to the METAR's specifications, the altimeter was reading 560 ft. at ground level. The elevation of Midway Airport is 620 feet, so the altimeter is 60 feet off, which isn't a reason to abort flight, especially because we're a small Cessna flying under VFR, but it isn't a good thing, either! Also noticed just before taxi that the suction gauge was reading outside of the green arc; a little bit high. I asked Tom about these irregularities, and his response, "The readings are a little weird. But it'll be fine."

Taxied to the edge of the tower apron, and pulled the throttle out to 1,700 RPMs for run-up checks. I glanced down taxiway F and watched those construction trucks buzzing around. Midway is departing from the 13's today, probably because of the construction. Taxiway F is the only way for us to get to Runway 13R. Tom and I wondered how we were going to get up there... As always, Tower had the solution for us.

"Cessna 172NT, turn right on 4R, turn left to backtaxi on 13R, contact Tower when in position."

Ha! We're using runways as taxiways! At Midway! Weird day.

Taxied into position, contacted Midway Tower. Cleared for takeoff, heading 180. Applied increasing right rudder to counter P-Factor and keep the plane on the centerline. Glanced down at the airspeed indicator, and it showed 40 knots. Just then, the nosegear of the airplane began to shudder.

"Pull back on the control wheel," Tom commanded.

The plane lifted off, and I began a turn to 180. What happened?

"The nose gear was on the ground too long. When you're applying right rudder, you're also turning the nose gear. The shuddering was caused by the friction of the tire turning to the right while the plane rolls straight ahead."

I was waiting for the airspeed indicator to increase to 50-55 knots before rotating, and the shuddering happened at just above 40 knots. Just as I was thinking it, Tom commented, "I think that the airspeed indicator is a little screwy. I'm going to have them look at it."

Chances are that we were rolling at 55 knots even though the airspeed indicator said 40. This can be caused by a blockage in the pitot tube, such as debris or ice. It's 80 degrees today, so I doubt that ice is the culprit, but a tiny bit of dirt in the pitot tube can have significant repercussions. I did look at the pitot tube during pre-flight, and didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but these strange airspeed indications are a good reason to have the pitot tube checked out.

As I levelled off to cruise altitude, I remembered that the altimeter reading was also a little bit off. These symptoms might be pointing to a blockage in the static port; that's the tiny hole on the side of the fuselage that measures static air pressure, which is used by the instruments to determine airspeed, altitude, and vertical speed. A blockage in the static port can cause all of these instruments to show irregular readings or fail altogether. In a small Cessna such as ours, a failure of these instruments is not as serious as it would be in an aircraft flying under IFR in bad weather, because even in the event of a complete failure of these instruments we will still be flying primarily using visual references. Still, I'll be asking Tom if the problem has been remedied before flying 172NT again.

During today's lesson we will be performing turns around a point and S-turns. Before doing these maneuvers, a pilot must perform "clearing turns", which means that he/she performs a 180-degree turn or 2 90-degree turns to scan the skies for traffic before concentrating on the turns. I am not yet in the habit of doing clearing turns before maneuvers. Tom keeps prompting me by asking, "We're going to do a turn around a point. What do you need to do first?", and I instantly want to answer anything except the answer he's looking for: clearing turns! Safety is paramount when you're a pilot, and performing clearing turns before executing ground reference maneuvers is a very important safety precaution.

All of these maneuvers are conducted at maneuvering speed, which is the highest speed at which full deflection of the controls about any one axis are guaranteed not to overstress the airframe. In this aircraft, maneuvering speed is 97 knots, which is maintained at 2,200-2,300 RPMs. Once we reached maneuvering speed at an altitude of 1,800 feet, Tom asked me to pick an intersection of two country roads down below. The goal is to fly a complete counterclockwise circle around this intersection, tracking a perfect circle over the ground. The wind exerts horizontal force on aircraft, so the pilot must apply varying degrees of bank and stabilizing rudder in order to keep the circle round. For each 90 degree section of the turn, I chose a feature on the ground that was equidistant from the intersection, such as a farm house or a conspicuous line of trees. This process made a lot of sense to me. As long as I kept the sight picture of my reference points and made sure that the plane's arc was wide enough to reach the reference point when the wings were parallel with the road.

Tom quickly quizzed me on how to achieve maneuvering speed in the aircraft.

"Now, what is maneuvering speed in this aircraft?" Tom asked.

"2,200 knots," I responded.

"Wha!?" Tom smiled. "Maneuvering speed is 2,200 knots!?"

OOPS!

"I mean 97 knots, which I can achieve at about 2,200 RPMs!" I corrected myself.

Well, maybe you had to be there, but this was funny! 2,200 knots is 2,200 nautical miles per hour... almost twice as fast as an F-22 fighter jet's maximum speed with thrusters at full! I'll be sure not to say that during my oral exam... such a response is sure to get an eyebrow raise out of my examiner!

Moving on to S-turns. S-turns are similar to turns around a point, but instead of making a circle around a single point, the pilot makes a half circle around the point, then makes a half-circle in the opposite direction around another point further down the same road, to make an "S" over the ground. I was having trouble closing the first half-circle with the wings parallel to the road; in other words, my first circle was too shallow, and my second circle needed to be wider to compensate. On the bright side, I was reasonably good at holding altitude during the maneuvers, although my altitude fluctuations are still outside of tolerances that I will be expected to meet during the checkride. I look forward to continuing to practice S-turns in my next lesson.

With about 30 minutes of lesson time left, we practiced some slow flight and power-off stalls. This is still by far the scariest part of my lessons. Just like practicing stalls, we practice slow flight to get used to how the airplane handles when it is at the very limits of lift. We begin by climbing to 2,800 feet, which is a safe altitude that will permit us to recover from any accidental stall that occurs during slow flight. Our goal is to hold altitude and make shallow turns while the plane is flying just above stall speed. In order to do this, the throttle must be pulled back to 1,600 to slow the plane down (accompanied by activating carburator heat to avoid carburator icing), and I must hold altitude with backward control wheel pressure, setting flaps to 10, 20, 30, and finally 40 degrees. As the stall horn activates, I push the throttle in to around 2,000 RPMs, and the plane will be able to hold altitude at an airspeed of only 40 knots! It's going to take me awhile to feel comfortable when the plane is in slow flight; everything feels wrong! I am deliberately placing the airplane in a configuration which could cause a stall quite easily if I fail to maintain the correct attitude. And the P-factor is so strong in slow flight that I have to depress the rudder very hard just to keep the airplane flying straight, and even then, I'm yawing all over the place. I understand the concept of slow flight, but I'm still very sloppy. I will definitely need more practice in slow flight before I am comfortable with it.

Oh, and on a side note... the stall horn is supposed to sound continuously during slow flight, and this is the moment when another problem with 172NT made itself known. The stall horn would not sound at all. Tom isn't really sure why the stall horn isn't working. There isn't anything electronic in the stall horn... it is simply a reed in the leading part of the wing that makes a whining sound when the wing comes close to exceeding the critical angle of attack that will cause a stall. The best explanation that Tom can come up with is that the reed might simply be so wet that it cannot make a sound. What can we do except be more mindful of our airspeed?

Transitioned from slow flight to power-off stalls. Just like two lessons ago, I would struggle to keep the plane in slow flight, and then pull back all the way on the control wheel until the wing exceeded the critical angle of attack and the wings stalled. The goal is to push forward on the control wheel just enough to reduce the angle of attack and resume normal flight while losing a minimum amount of altitude in the stall recovery. But again, deliberately stalling the plane is very harrowing! During one of these stalls, I felt my heart go straight up into my throat! You know that moment in a roller coaster just when you reach the top of one hill and start to go down another? Same thing here, except in the back of my mind I'm thinking, "There's nothing holding me up!"

Well, I continuously tell myself that the Cessna wants to fly. It wants to recover from the stall. And I can see this in practice because the stall recovery requires very little forward pressure, and the plane begins flying again within a second. Still, stall recovery is another thing I'll have to get used to!

Another lesson is coming to an end, and it's time to head home. Standard approach from the south... and while we were gone, Midway switched to landing 22L and 22R. Tower first instructed us to enter the pattern for runway 22L, but near the end of our downwind, Tower told us to switch to 22R so that he could depart the first of several aircraft waiting to go off from 22L. I had arranged with Tom for him to take the full approach into Midway today, so that I could get this shot of the runway right before we touched down. And of course, Instructor Tom brought her in for a smooth landing, we exited left at F, and I took over the airplane to taxi to the apron. Had plenty of space to park the aircraft this time, and taxied her to the center of the parking space on the first try.

Another 2.2 hours in the logbook, totalling 7.9 hours. Continuing to study the Sporty's DVD to review ground reference maneuvers and prepare for cross country flight planning.

Lovin' it.

- Airman Eric

06/12/2009 - "A little too fast that time..."

I am currently writing this blog from the lobby of the Atlantic FBO. Boy, it sure is nice that Atlantic has free Wi-Fi! I am sitting on a very comfy couch, watching the news on a plasma screen, and waiting for Instructor Tom to arrive from his previous lesson.

The FBO isn't very busy at the moment, but it is always a great place to watch people. I am looking out the window at a sizeable executive jet which has just parked after landing at Midway. I was amazed to see two small children exiting the aircraft with their parents, followed by the pilot. Was it a charter? A personal jet? Don't know. But it is quite interesting to sit in the lobby and watch people come and go, who, let's face it, are upper-crust types. These two boys, about 5 and 7, don't even realize what a privilege it is to hop off an aircraft, walk through the lobby to a car, and drive straight home. What an amazing country we live in, where the rich have so much and the poor have so little.

And yet, as I sit here in the lobby people-watching, I hope that I'll see somebody famous. Tom mentioned to me that he once saw Tim Allen sitting in the FBO lobby. He was waiting for his private jet, and there was some sort of hang-up, so he didn't get to leave as quickly as he would have liked. Of course, a guy like Tim Allen flies in a private jet so he can avoid people, and to be stuck in the FBO lobby for any time at all was probably torture! Needless to say, Tom felt it best to not bother the man, but it's still cool that this lobby might one day give me the chance to see a famous person. I've seen plenty of rich people, but nobody famous yet. I'm keeping an eye out.

The weather is breathtaking. Sunny, 70 degrees, barely a cloud in the sky. Today, Tom and I are going to practice ground reference maneuvers and do some simulated landings. A ground reference maneuver means that a pilot is lining himself up with features on the ground, much in the same way he does when making an approach to a runway. We are going to be using country roads around the farms near Peotone as reference points to simulate what I will do when I am flying the traffic pattern to land.

Tom returned from the ramp with his previous student, and surprised me with an announcement; we are going to have a passenger today. The flight school has an airplane currently parked at Joliet Regional Airport, and Chris, another instructor with the school, is going to hitch a ride with us to Joliet so that he can pick up the aircraft and bring it back. It's time for my first landing at an airport other than Midway.

I smiled to myself. In my previous lesson, Tom told me that we were going to be simulating the traffic pattern. And today, it turns out that I'm going to be doing the real thing!

We're flying Cessna 172NT, the same aircraft I used in my first lesson. I'm getting pretty good at the preflight and the radio callups prior to departure, so I'll jump through this part pretty quick... conducted the preflight walkaround using the checklists, met up with Chris and chatted for awhile; he climbed into the back seat and waited as I started up the airplane and called up clearance delivery to announce our departure, called up ground and began taxi to 4L, held short F for a Diamond Star that was taxiing to the apron, held short 4R for a landing 737, crossed 4R for 4L, contacted tower for takeoff clearance, received said clearance, and VOOM, we were off!

Did a much better job trimming the aircraft for 1,900 feet... at last, I didn't even come close to busting the altitude restriction! Tom told me to turn right to a heading of 250 toward Joliet. The air was a little choppy and hazy, but I held altitude and heading as best I could. Tom announced that we were going to use the Joliet VOR to double-check our course.

The term VOR stands for Very high-frequency Omnidirectional Range. It is a permanent ground installation that sends radio signals up into the sky in 360 directions, or radials. Aircraft are equipped with radio receivers that can pick up the signals. It can tell the pilot where they are in relation to the station, how far away they are, their ground speed in relation to the station, and whether they are flying to or from the station. I couldn't find a picture of the JOT VOR, but here's a picture of a nifty-looking one in Germany, so that you get the idea.

I tuned the frequency of the JOT VOR, which is 112.3. The plane is bopping around a little, I'm trying to hold heading and altitude while tuning the radio and setting the course. I also needed to set the Common Traffic Advisory Frequency. Joliet is a small regional field, and is not busy enough to have a control tower. Instead of relying on a controller on the ground to give instructions, pilots landing at/departing from Joliet all tune the CTAF frequency on their radios (122.7 at this airport), and talk to each other directly to announce their intentions. Tom helped me tune radios by showing me the VOR frequency and CTAF frequency on the sectional map, but I felt like I could have used a couple more hands!

"Tom, how in the world am I going to do all this when I'm flying alone?" I asked.

"I dunno... you just do what you have to do!" responded Tom. Good enough.

The needle in the CDI (Course Deviation Indicator) is centered for now, which shows that I am flying direct to the JOT VOR. After a minute, the needle is no longer centered, no doubt because the wind is blowing me off course. I asked Tom if this was a concern, but he said it wasn't because we're not actually flying direct to the JOT VOR, we are flying to Joliet Regional, which will come up 5 miles before we reach the VOR anyway. It seemed like no more than 15 minutes, and Tom said, "I think I see the field."

I looked over the nose of the airplane, and at about one o'clock and 5 miles, I could see an airstrip with one runway on it. The orientation of the runway looked correct, but I realized that it can be very easy for a pilot to become disorientated and lose track of where he/she is. I plan to ask Tom more about using the VFR charts to help me know where I am. I'm only about 25 miles from home, and already I feel lost!

I haven't heard any other pilots on the CTAF frequency, so it's likely we're the only plane headed for the field. I asked Tom if I should make a traffic call as we turned downwind for runway 12.

"No," said Tom. "We'll just call final. Pull the throttle back to 2,000 RPMs and keep level flight. The plane will slow down to 80 knots."

I followed directions, but everything still seemed to be happening very fast. I felt pretty nervous.

"Extend 10 degrees of flaps."

I pushed the flap lever down to 10 degrees. Felt the plane pitch downward, enabling me to see the runway better.

"When the runway threshold is 45 degrees behind you, turn base."

I turned the airplane 90 degrees to the left. Tom looked out the left window and saw the runway approaching.

"Pull the throttle back to 1,600 RPMs. Extend 20 degrees of flaps."

The plane descended further. I called out a traffic advisory in case any other pilots were planning to take off from Joliet. When transmitting on the CTAF, a pilot gives five pieces of information; the airport he's calling about, who he is, what he's flying, where he is, and what he wants to do. The pilot also repeats the airport name at the end of the transmission as a courtesy in case another pilot tunes into the middle of the transmission. In this case, my call went like this:

"Joliet Traffic, 172NT is a Cessna 172, short final runway 12, Joliet."

"Good traffic call," Tom smiled. "Now, imagine the runway centerline continuing to extend outward towards us. Turn the plane to line up over the runway centerline."

I banked the wings, and rolled out to line up with the runway. I appeared to be tracking the runway centerline pretty well!

"We're too low. Push the throttle in to 2,000 RPMs."

I guess that when I was making the final turn, I rolled out at the right time, but I lost a little too much altitude. I pushed the throttle in to 2,000 RPMs, which instantly pitched the nose upward to a degree that I did not expect.

"Push forward on the control wheel..." Tom said.

No sooner were the words out of Tom's mouth than the plane had climbed 100 feet and was now too high!

"...Too high... pull the throttle to idle... full flaps..."

Followed directions, but the pitch down attitude seemed to be a bit much. I didn't take my eyes off the runway centerline. I could feel the speed increasing, but I couldn't tell how much.

"I'm going to help you with this," said Tom.

I think I've figured out something about Tom. When he says, "I'm going to help you with this," it means I messed up!

Pulled the control wheel back to level about 10 feet above the runway. The plane floated a bit. Tom pushed the control wheel in and out to bleed off some airspeed, but we touched down on the runway very fast. The wheels shuddered quite little bit as I applied light brakes, making a pretty loud thumping noise, and it took a long time to slow down. We finally slowed to taxi speed, about 20 knots, with 500 feet of runway left. I taxied off the left side.

"Well, you want your approach speed to be about 65 knots, and you touched down at about 85 knots. You were a little too fast that time."

This is where I learned that Tom has the gift of understatement. ;) I'm sitting here trying to figure out if I messed up something that I should have known how to deal with. I definitely came in too steep and too fast, especially considering that Chris was sitting in the back seat, adding some extra weight. But this is only my third lesson, and I felt a little overwhelmed in this landing. At the end of the day, however, I learned a very valuable lesson. I learned the warning signs for an approach that is too fast!

I asked Tom point blank, "Did I mess up something that I should have been prepared to deal with?"

Tom didn't really harp on it, so I didn't ask the question twice. I think that I was too slow to respond to the attitude changes of the airplane, and I put us in a not-so-ideal situation. Tom could have taken the airplane from me, but I'm guessing Tom ascertained that the approach wasn't life-threatening, so he let me have this landing even though it wasn't ideal because if he had instantly taken the plane from me just because I was a little too low, I wouldn't have learned anything! I'm sorry that the landing was rough, but I appreciate Tom's willingness to let me experience controlling the aircraft all the way to the ground. I think it's safe to say that a pilot learns more from bad landings than from good ones. ;)

Really-super-important-lesson #1: Watch your approach airspeed!

We taxied to parking, and dropped Chris off. I noticed Chris shooting a look at Tom, rolling his eyes... guess he wasn't impressed by the rough landing. Don't worry, Chris; I'll impress you soon enough!

Heard a helicopter pilot on the CTAF report that he was hover-taxiing to the fueling area, and he reported us in sight. I watched him overfly runway 12, land near the fuel pumps, and shut down to fuel up. Once Chris was safely clear, I taxied back to runway 12 for another takeoff. Made another advisory call on the CTAF.

"Joliet Traffic, 172NT is a Cessna 172, departing runway 12 to the east, Joliet."

Rolling on Runway 12. 70 knots. Pulling back on the control wheel. 80 knots and still not climbing!

"Pull back on the control wheel," Tom warned.

At last, the plane lifted off, we began a steady climbout. I pulled the nose a little bit above the horizon, and Tom complimented me, "Nice climbout! 75 knots exactly!"

I looked down at the airspeed indicator, and yup, 75 knots in the climbout, and holding steady. The plane just feels more stable when it's climbing at 75 knots. I trimmed off control pressure for several seconds, and that was when I realized why our takeoff roll was so late.

"Tom, I forgot to reset the trim for takeoff. That's why it took so long to rotate."

"That could be!" said Tom. See what I mean? Tom's got the gift of understatement.

Really-super-important-lesson #2: USE CHECKLISTS, ERIC! If I had run the takeoff checklist, I would have trimmed the aircraft properly and the takeoff would have been textbook.

The remainder of the lesson wasn't as eventful. I did several ground reference maneuvers, following the country roads in a series of left-hand turns. At last, I am becoming more consistent holding altitude as I turn! I still need to practice, but I'm losing less than 50 feet in medium bank turns, and that's an improvement!

Did several simulated landings. Climbed up to 2,800 feet, and Tom asked me to choose a landmark on the ground that will represent the runway threshold. I chose a cul-de-sac in the middle of a real estate development. I turned south on a simulated downwind, and pulled the throttle back to 2,000 RPMs. When the cul-de-sac was immediately off my left wing, Tom asked me to add 10 degrees of flaps. I continued to the south until the cul-de-sac was 45 degrees over my left shoulder, then turned 90 degrees to the left, pulled the throttle back to 1,600 RPMs, and deployed 20 degrees of flaps for a simulated base. At this point, the aircraft has begun descending at about 500 feet per minute. When the cul-de-sac was nearly off my left wing again, I turned 90 degrees to the left and lined up with the cul-de-sac directly ahead. Once I was close enough to simulate final, Tom asked me to pull the throttle back to idle, deploy full flaps, and descend down to 1,800 feet. In a real landing, this is when I would touch down, but we don't want to descend below 1,800 feet at the moment. Tom asked me to simulate a go-around. I pushed the throttle full forward, retracted flaps to 20 degrees, and pushed the wheel forward to control the climb. When I was certain that I had a positive rate of climb, Tom asked me to retract flaps to 10 degrees, and once we had exceeded 65 knots, I retracted the flaps entirely and began a normal climb to 2,800 again. Tom and I did these maneuvers for another 30 minutes, and each time, I felt more confident about landing this airplane myself!

Time was once again wearing thin, and it was time to head home. Approached Midway from the south, contacted the tower, received a new squawk code. We were instructed to cross midfield and enter a left downwind for runway 4L. Tower told us that a Diamond Star was already in the pattern, and we would be number 2 behind him. It took me a minute or two to see the Diamond Star, but at last, I looked over my left shoulder and saw the Diamond Star on final. And now it was finally time to fly the traffic pattern myself.

Turned downwind. 2,000 RPMs. Added 10 degrees of flaps when I was abeam the touchdown point, and watched as the Diamond Star landed. Continued on the downwind until the threshold for 4L was 45 degrees over my left shoulder. Turned base, 1,600 RPMs, 20 degrees of flaps, trimmed off the control pressure. Looked out my left window as the threshold approached, just as Tower cleared us to land. Tom offered me reminders as I turned final, lined up with the runway quite well, reached the point when my glide was assured, throttle to idle, full flaps. The plane slowed and I held the pitch for an airspeed of 65 knots, trimming off the control pressure again. Tom did have his hand on his control wheel, but he was letting me do this. Leveled out just above the ground, pitched slightly upward to burn off airspeed to 45-50 knots, and the wheels settled right on the centerline. Yahtzee!

I landed on 4L at Midway... Not sure how much Tom helped me, but I don't think he did. I'm pretty sure I did this one myself!

Off the right side at F, crossed 4R with Tower's permission, and taxied to the apron. Had a little trouble centering the plane in the parking space, and actually put the plane in a position where we had to stop because if we continued taxiing we might clip the wing of another parked aircraft! Shut down the engine, and Tom helped me push the aircraft into place. Tied 'er down, and headed back to the FBO.

Well, my lesson wasn't perfect, but I think I learned more from this lesson than I had from any other. Had a bad landing, and a good one. Getting a feel for the traffic pattern, and I flew the 4L traffic pattern myself this time without losing my nerve. Landed at an uncontrolled field, made CTAF calls, and was able to mark two landings in my logbook for the day. Oh, and of course, I landed at Midway Airport by myself. What a ride!

Going away to visit friends for the weekend, but weather permitting, I'll be back in the cockpit next Wednesday. 'Till then...

- Airman Eric