08/06/2009 - "Wow! It's lit up like a Christmas tree, isn't it?"

For the Private Pilot's License, I am required to have 3 hours of night flying, during which I must do a cross-country of at least 100 nautical miles total, along with 10 takeoffs and landings to a full stop.

Tom's schedule makes it very difficult for him to complete night flights, so my first lesson was conducted with a different instructor, named Kevin. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to get a picture of Kevin, but my lesson with him in 172NT was pretty much an introduction of night flying with 4 landings at GYY, 3 landings at IGQ, and a final landing at MDW.

Preflight uneventful. After starting the engine, Kevin showed me how to turn on the interior lights so that I will be able to read the instruments in the dark aircraft. Every automobile I have ever driven has included backlit guages, enabling the driver to easily read the guages at night. Not so in our little 1979 Cessna! The interior lighting is a single red light bulb which casts a barely visible glint of red light onto the instrument panel.

"There's your light," Kevin says.

Um... ??? "Where's my light!?"

Well, honestly, once my eyes adjusted to the low level of light I could see the instruments pretty well. However, I am always going to need a flashlight in the cockpit. It is very difficult to verify the location of the trim wheel in that limited light, and besides, it's always a good idea to carry a backup light in case the one in the cockpit fails.

The first thing I notice immediately after takeoff is that the air is very, very smooth at night. Air movements, as you may imagine, are fueled by the sun's uneven heating of the earth's surface, and when the sun has been down for a few hours, the air settles down to a cool, glassy calm. When I take my wife Nadia flying for the first time, I'm going to take off just as sunset begins, thereby ensuring beautiful views of the city and calm, smooth air. As my lessons continue, I can feel that special day approaching, closer and closer. It is so difficult to wait for the day when I will take my wife for a plane ride, but as I look at my logbook, it is apparent that our first sunset flight isn't very far away at all.





I was heading 090 from Midway on our way to Gary, and I took the opportunity to get a night shot of the Chicago skyline. On my first attempt, I was able to capture all of the building lights and street lights in our beautiful city, but in order to capture these lights, I have to keep the shutter open for about a second. Of course, I'm in a moving plane, and I am unable to hold the camera precisely steady, and the result is shown at right.







So, I manually increased the exposure and increased the shutter speed to ensure that I wouldn't get the blurry lights while still ensuring that a maximum amount of light would enter the lens. And the result is shown here:

Argh! We are so far away from the skyline that the increased shutter speed just doesn't permit enough of the light to reach the camera lens. The end result is a focused, but barely visible skyline.

Hey! I happen to be a pretty good photographer! Just not tonight.



Within a few minutes, we reached the lakeshore, and Kevin asked me to turn southeast toward Gary. At first, I felt nervous flying over the water, but I was certainly within gliding distance of land, and it was actually very liberating to fly out over the water. Kevin asked me to contact Gary Tower.

"Gary Tower, Cessna 172NT is 5 miles to the northwest, land and remain in the pattern, stop and go."

"Cessna 172NT, Gary Tower. Make straight in for Runway 12. Traffic is a Bell Ranger helicopter at your 2 o'clock, 2 miles, he's departing the pattern to the west."

Kevin and I scanned the sky for that helicopter, but against the backdrop of the city lights, it was hard to see. It took a few moments, but at last I saw the helicopter's strobe passing from left to right, and I instantly knew that the helicopter would not be a factor. I was hoping, however, that I would be able to see the green NAV light on the helicopter's starboard side, but I guess I just wasn't close enough.

Kevin tells me that he sees the airport, and I'm scanning the area where he's pointing, but I just don't see it. I guess I visualized that I would be able to see the runway lights from far away, or at least the airport beacon. For a long time, I looked and looked. Then, at last, I noticed the red runway end identifier lights (REILs) for Runway 12, and a few seconds later, I could see eight green lights marking the runway threshold. Once I was able to see the beginning and end of the runway, my brain somehow filled in the white runway edge lights, and I could finally make out the entire runway. Boy, it was hard to see it until we were almost right on it!

"Wind 060 @ 4, Runway 12 cleared for the option," says the Gary Tower controller.

"Cleared for the option, Runway 12," I respond.

"Throttle to 1,600 RPMs, flaps 10, pitch the nose down." Kevin says.

Following directions, and the runway is approaching.

"You're pretty far right of the centerline. Control wheel to the left," Kevin warns.

At this moment, I realized that I was actually aiming the airplane at the right runway edge because I thought the white lights on the right side were the runway centerline lights. No, I thought to myself, I need to land in between the runway edge lights. I made the correction.

As I came closer and closer to the runway, my brain began to fill in the blanks. It really wasn't much different than landing in the daytime, except instead of aiming at the forward edge of the pavement for my landing, I was pointing at the green threshold lights. As I descended to within 10 feet of the runway, my landing lights started to light up the surface, and I could clearly make out the "12" runway marking as well as the centerline. From that point forward, the landing was textbook.

"Come to a full stop right here on the runway," Kevin says. "Clean up the airplane."

Carb heat off, flaps retract, ready to go again.

Very good climbout, but as I turned crosswind, I rolled out of the turn too late. I think I lost orientation with the runway, and Kevin reminded me to keep the runway in sight. I looked over my left shoulder, and to my amazement, I couldn't see the runway at all! No white lights, no REILs, no green threshold lights. I guess I envisioned that the runway would be clearly lit up and easy to see! The reality, at least at Gary, is that the runway is difficult to see unless you're pointed right at it on final. And have I mentioned before that Gary... well... smells funny?!?

Kevin reminded me that the wind is from the northeast. It's a very light wind, only 4 knots, but I must point the nose of the aircraft to the right to counter the wind. I glanced out the left window, and I could see the runway again. The red Runway End Identifier Lights reminded me that I was now abeam the threshold. Time to descend for landing #2.

"Watch your airspeed," Kevin warns. "You're too slow."

I instinctively push the nose of the airplane downward to increase the airspeed, as I look down at the airspeed indicator, which admittedly is difficult to see in the light cast by the single red lightbulb. It takes a few seconds for me to interpret the markings, but yes, I was slowing down past 65 knots on base. And as I turned final, I was a little bit high because of my airspeed error on base. I landed just fine, but I didn't manage to come to a full stop until I was 1000 feet down the runway. I cleaned up the airplane, and looked forward to gauge my distance from the end of the runway. I could make out the REILs, and I was pretty sure that I could take off in the distance remaining, but I asked Kevin his opinion, just in case.

"Do I have enough runway to take off from this point?"

"Oh, yes," Kevin says. "At least 5000 feet and you only need about 800."

Another perfect takeoff with proper right rudder pressure, and two more go-arounds in the pattern at GYY. My fourth landing at GYY was very, very good. I flared for touchdown at just about 60 knots and almost exactly on the numbers, and managed to slow down before the first taxiway. It was an excellent short field landing.

"Nice job. Let's head out to Lansing," Kevin directed.

Climbed out to 1000 ft AGL, and turned to the south. Kevin pointed out a large power plant in the distance, and told me that the power plant is due east of Lansing. As I reached the power plant, I turned to the west and began looking for the airport beacon.

"Lansing has pilot-controlled lighting, right? Can I turn it on now?" I ask Kevin.

"Go for it," he says.

I've been waiting for this moment for more than two months. Many uncontrolled fields nowadays have pilot-controlled lighting. There is no tower or ground controller on duty because the airport isn't busy enough to warrant the coverage, so pilots communicate directly to each other, announcing their intentions on the Common Terminal Area Frequency (CTAF). It doesn't make sense to have runway lights burning all night if no one is going to use them, so to save electricity and light bulbs, the runway lights remain off until someone wants to use them. Pilots have the ability to turn on airport lighting while airborne by tuning the CTAF and clicking their microphone three times for low-intensity light, five times for medium-intensity, and seven times for high-intensity light. Once activated, the lights stay on for fifteen minutes, and if another pilot comes along and clicks his microphone, the fifteen-minute timer starts over. The microphone serves as the "on" switch, but the lights turn off according to a timer, so it's not possible for a pilot to turn the runway lights off while another pilot is using them. This is my first time activating pilot-controlled lighting, so you better believe I clicked that microphone seven times.

And... WHAM!

Lansing Regional Airport lights up like a small city. Bright white runway lights, REILs, and in addition to the green threshold lights, there was a pair of strobe lights on either side of the runway threshold. I could even make out the blue taxiway lights and taxiway signs. You'd have to have your eyes closed to miss this airport.

"Wow! It's lit up like a Christmas tree, isn't it?" I say.

The AWOS is reporting calm winds, so tonight's runway at Lansing is pilot's choice. I choose Runway 18 because it's the only runway at Lansing that I've never landed on before. I report entering the left downwind Runway 18 on the CTAF, and make a very successful descent in the pattern, putting the plane down right on the numbers. Another excellent landing.

"Nice work," Kevin says as I exit the runway at K. Then his hand reaches up and switches off my taxi and landing light.

"Okay, what if you lose your landing lights? Keep the plane on the taxiway centerline by looking at the blue taxiway edge lights."

I must say that it's very disconcerting at first, but within a minute, my eyes adjust to the lower level of light. And actually, I can make out the taxiway centerline on the pavement just from the blue wash of the edge lighting. We make our way to the runway threshold, I report a takeoff, remaining in the pattern, and we're off!

Kevin reminds me to apply right rudder on the climbout, and we lift off into the dark. The runway lights are more then enough to help me gauge my climb, and I keep an eye on the airspeed indicator to double check for 75 knots. Within two minutes, we're on final for runway 18 again, and I set the plane down right on the centerline without using any landing lights at all.

As we taxi to the runway threshold again, I'm looking forward along the taxiway edge, and I suddenly see two small, golden orbs glinting at me, about six inches above the ground, and about 10 feet ahead.

"What is that?!" I ask.

"What!?" Kevin doesn't see it.

I reach up and flick on the taxiway light and catch a reasonably sized raccoon dashing off the taxiway into the grass.

"Ha!" Kevin laughs. "There's a lot of wildlife around here. Maybe you better taxi with the light on."

Grin.

One more takeoff and landing with the landing light off, and it's time to head home.

Climbing out from Lansing, and I set myself up to approach Midway from the south. I've returned to Midway from Lansing often enough to feel confident about the route I am taking. I contact Midway Tower, and he asks to report the field in sight. Kevin tells me to look for the beacon, and I'm trying, but it isn't easy to spot the field.

"It'll be a long, black sliver in between lit up roads," Kevin advises me. "Even Midway can be tricky to spot at night."

There are several dark patches ahead, but none of them seem distinctive. I do manage to pick out the two Alsip water towers, all lit up in white light, so I am certain that I am on the correct course. Just when I'm going to ask Kevin for help, he says, "Did Tom tell you about the Nike Swoosh?"

Wha?!

"No," I laugh.

"The lights from Archer Avenue make a Nike Swoosh that points straight at the airport. The lights are really yellow. You know what I'm talking about, right? The Nike logo?"

"Yeah, I do."

And I'm looking for this Nike swoosh, but it's not really helping me. Then, I glance ahead, and I'm amazed to realize that I can make out one of the large Southwest hangers on the north edge of Midway. Once I have the hanger, my brain fills in the rest of the details, and I have the airport in sight.

"Cessna 172NT has the field in sight," I report on the radio.

"Cessna 172NT, make right base runway 4R, keep your speed up, you're ahead of a Southwest 737 on a 10 mile final doing 270 knots over the ground."

Whoa.

Kevin is there to help me out. We're about to approach Midway in a whole new way.

"Make your right base. Push the throttle to full and descend to about 1,200," Kevin says.

I turn to a heading of about 300, making my right base. I'm descending at full power, and our airspeed is pushing 115 knots. I glance out of the right window, and suddenly, I can see the green runway threshold lights, and the rest of the runway fills in. I've got it.

"Throttle back to 1,600. Fly level for now. The plane will slow down pretty quickly."

Levelling off. The airspeed is dropping, and it's down below 80 within 10 seconds. Flaps 10, rolling out on final. Our angle looks good, so I drop another 10 degrees of flaps and point the nose just before the runway threshold.

"You have to land on the other side of the green lights," Kevin warns.

"No problem," I say.

I pull the throttle back to idle, and within a few seconds, I feel like I'm a little low. Not low enough to be dangerous; just low enough to preclude full flaps. I pull back on the control wheel and coast right over the runway threshold. It takes a long time for the plane to slow down and touch the runway because I only have 20 degrees of flaps, but I am able to exit at F and taxi to the tower apron.

"I didn't think I could have put out the final 20 degrees of flaps, but I guess I could have."

"Sure," Kevin says. "You used up more runway than you had to. But it was a smooth landing."

Each time I land, I learn a little something new.

Night flying isn't hard; just different. During my next lesson with Tom, we're going to do a night cross-country to Pontiac. I admit that night flying still makes me a little nervous, but my next lesson is another opportunity to tackle my fear.

- Airman Eric

07/09/2009 - "Now we shall call you Captain Solo."

Soloed for the first time today! Three takeoffs and landings in Cessna 172NT at KIGQ (Lansing), runway 9.

After Tom and I worked on emergency procedures and no-flap landings, he asked me to taxi to the parking area. When I arrived there, Tom got out of the plane, told me to do three takeoffs and landings to a full stop, all by myself. He carried his VHF radio with him so he could talk to me and coach me from the ground if need be.

Taxied to the threshold behind another Cessna Skyhawk. He departed, remaining in the pattern. As soon as he rolled, I taxied into position on the runway, calling the CTAF to announce my departure. Tom cautioned me on the radio, "Don't go yet! Wait a little bit!" I watched as the plane before me turned crosswind, and then I rolled.

Smooth takeoff and climb into the pattern, watched the Skyhawk turn downwind. 500 AGL; turned crosswind. Looked off my left wing to watch the Cessna continue on downwind. Kept climbing to traffic pattern altitude, turned downwind as the Cessna turned base. Pulled the carb heat out, pulled the throttle back to 2,000 RPMs, 80 knots, kept an eye on the runway to my left. My distance from the runway is good. Crossed abeam the threshold, pulled back to 1,600 RPMs, 10 degrees of flaps, 70 knots. Waited until the Cessna in the pattern went by on final. Turned base, 20 degrees of flaps, keeping one eye on the Cessna and one eye on my altitude. Turned final as the Cessna touched down on the runway, watched as he rolled about 1000 feet and exited left. Now it's all up to me.

Height above the runway is good; I pull the throttle to idle and pitch down for the runway at 70 knots. Descent still looks good. Full flaps, 65 knots, and I start dropping down to the runway. Suddenly, I seem to be aiming past the numbers. I've got plenty of runway, so I hold my speed and pass about 30 feet above the numbers. Continued down to the surface, flared just above the ground, slowed down. Applied a little right rudder pressure to keep the plane aimed down the centerline. Nose pitched higher and higher, and it seemed to take forever. Then, finally, I heard the squeak of the tires as I touched down. A little bit to the left of the centerline, and touched down about 300 feet past where I would have liked, but I was down smoothly. Landing #1 complete.

Carb heat in, flaps up. My Cessna buddy in the pattern has decided to taxi to parking, leaving me the the opportunity to use the runway all by myself. Taxied back to the runway threshold and got ready for pattern #2.

A little bit of a crosswind developing as I taxi into position. Applied a little bit of right aileron to ensure that I will stay on the centerline after liftoff. Good takeoff roll and climbout at 75 knots. My crosswind turn and downwind turn were terrific; reached pattern altitude at exactly the right time. Carb heat out, throttle to 2,000 RPMs. A little bit of crab into the wind to fly parallel to the runway. Crossed abeam the threshold, 1,600 RPMs, 10 degrees of flaps. Kept an eye out for the 45 degrees to final, turned base, 20 degrees of flaps. Trying to hold 70 knots, pulled back too much too long, and suddenly looked down to see 60 knots. Pitched the nose forward, increased the speed to 70 knots again. Turned final too soon, which I seem to do quite often. Rounded out of the turn slowly to increase my turn radius and line back up on the centerline. Finally found the centerline, pulled the throttle to idle, and began to pitch down for the runway. Speed is increasing too much, and the descent angle isn't steep enough. Pull back for 65 knots, and it helps me sink, but I pass over the numbers higher than I did the first time. Leveled off just above the runway, and started to pull back for flare. Suddenly, I floated in the ground effect. Airspeed too slow; flaring too high. Pitched the nose forward to stabilize the airspeed, but now I'm to the left of the centerline. The approach angle in relation to the centerline isn't bad; just sloppy. Flared again, this time I had slowed down enough, and touched down. Not quite turned parallel to the runway, and the plane rocked a little as I landed with the nose pointed about 5 degrees to the left. Slowed, taxied off to the left. Landing #2 was messy; I need to do better.

Taxiing back to the runway for my last go around, and performed the after-landing checklist. Carb heat in, flaps retract. And I suddenly realized why my landing was strange. I had forgotten to put down my last 20 degrees of flaps on final, and I was flaring as if I had all 40 degrees of flaps extended. No wonder why it took me so long to slow down, and why I ballooned as I pulled back. If I hadn't flared so hard and allowed the airspeed to bleed off naturally, the landing would have been perfect. Well, I've got one more chance to get this right!

Climbed into the pattern for my third time. As I turned crosswind, I heard a King Air pilot call up; he's 12 miles out for runway 9. I reported my position on left crosswind for Runway 9, and he called back, "We'll be looking for you, King Air ###XX." Climbed to pattern altitude, RPMs to 2,000, held altitude at 80 knots. Called left downwind on the CTAF, and the King Air told me he was 8 miles out. Passed abeam the runway threshold, throttle to 1,600, flaps 10 degrees, looking for that King Air in the distance, but I couldn't see him. Reported turning base; King Air called 6 mile final for Runway 9. Flaps 20, 70 knots; holding my heading and airspeed very well this time. Vowed that I would NOT mess up this turn to final. The extended runway centerline is coming up, and my sight picture for the runway looks good. Turned final, called it in, and thankfully the King Air called back, "Lansing Traffic, King Air ###XX 4 mile final for Runway 9, we have you in sight and we'll be well behind you."

Good. Now all I have to do is land.

Pulled the throttle to idle, watched the nose pitch down, and I instantly knew that my altitude was good. Full flaps. Pitched down, aiming right at the numbers. Keeping it on the centerline. A little bit of control wheel to the right to compensate for that crosswind from the south. Levelled out just above the ground, coming out of the crab, but a little too much left rudder and now I'm to the left of the centerline again. Right rudder to straighten out the airplane, and a gentle flare. Wheels touched down, parallel to the runway, but left of the centerline. Applied brakes, slowed down, exited to the left, and reported clear. The King Air pilot responded, "Lansing traffic, thanks for that, King Air ###XX short final Runway 9, Lansing."

Turned left on the taxiway and looked up to see the very large King Air on final. I have no idea why in the world I was unable to see such a huge plane!

As the King Air rolled by, I reached the parking area, and met up with Tom. He congratuled me on my first solo, pointed out that my first landing was good but that I flared too far down the runway. He told me that my second landing was just plain scary, and that he wished I had gone around. And, as I expected, he complimented me for flaring sooner on my third landing, but complained that I was off the centerline. To my surprise, Tom told me that I should be flaring even sooner! I need to use very foot of runway that I can. I shouldn't be aiming for the numbers on final; I should be aiming at the grass before the threshold and I should be flaring over the numbers!

Today was a good day. 0.2 hours of PIC time in the logbook. My landings today were far from perfect; but I have time to work on my technique. The most important message I carried away today was a simple fact: I can do this by myself!

On a side note... I mentioned on my Facebook page that I soloed for the first time, and my buddy Jim responded with an awesome Star Wars reference, "Then we shall call you Captain Solo!"

Thanks, Jim. I'll make sure that my mechanic keeps the hyperdrive in good repair!

- 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

06/18/2009 - "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

06/04/2009 - "Yahtzee!"

After about five years of dreaming about it, two years of talking about it, and one year of planning for it, I have finally had my first flight lesson. It was more amazing than I could have imagined. I am taking lessons through API Flight School (Aviation Professionals, Incorporated), from Chicago Midway Airport (MDW). That's right... I'm taking flying lessons at Chicago's second busiest airport, and I'm going to be talking to ATC from day one! Today marks the beginning of my journey to the Private Pilot's License, which I hope to have by August 31st.

The weather was perfect... 65 degrees, barely any wind, and only a light sheet of clouds at 25,000 feet. I pulled up to the flight school, at about 4:40. I met my instructor, Tom, with whom I instantly hit it off. After a quick chat, we got in our cars and drove down the street to the Atlantic Aviation FBO.


Boy, was it interesting in there! Tom told me they've recently remodeled, and the whole building is a pretty cool combination of classic and modern. In the lobby, there were several big, comfortable leather sofa chairs which gave a temporary respite to a number of corporate jet pilots, who awaited their passengers as their Citation X's cooled down on the tarmac. I saw the flight planning and weather stations, where pilots submit their flight plans to ATC and check on weather conditions. There was also a very LARGE coffee machine, complimentary of course, but I wasn't really in the mood for any. Tom filled a pretty big cup of coffee, and we headed out to the tower apron to check out the plane, a Cessna 172, registry # N172NT.

Tom provided me with checklists and guided me through the pre-flight walkaround. The entire plane must be looked over. We examined the instrument panel, tested the master switch, examined all of the rivets, moved the control surfaces to make sure they moved freely, looked underneath the ailerons to make sure that all of the bolts were in place and tightened, examined the tires and brakes. We sumped a little bit of fuel from each wing using a clear plastic sample cup to ensure that there was no water in the fuel. "Sumping", just like a sump pump in your basement, means to draw a little bit of fuel from the wing and examine it. Water is heavier than aviation gas, and will sink to the bottom of the tank, so by sumping fuel in the lowest place of the fuel tanks you can be sure to remove any water that may have collected in the tank since the last time the plane was flown. Aviation gas is tinted blue so that you can clearly see any sediment or foreign matter in the fuel as well. The fuel was clean, and I just dumped the sample on the ground. It was time to get going. The plane was tied down at three places... one rope on each wing, and one at the tail. I untied the ropes and threw them clear of the aircraft, and at last, we were ready to fly.

... On a side note... the right main tire on this aircraft was quite bald... Tom thinks that pilots have been favoring that tire on landing. He assures me that it is only a minor problem, because the tire is properly inflated, but notes that this plane is up for FAA inspection in 40 hours, and a mechanic will replace the tire at that time.

Started 'er up, tuned radios to Midway Clearance Delivery. Told them that we are a VFR Cessna 172 on the tower apron, and we want VFR departure to the south. Clearance Delivery keys us into the ATC system so that other controllers will have information about our aircraft. He tells us to contact ground when are ready to taxi.

We roll to the edge of the tower apron, and set the brakes to do a 10-second runup to 1,700 RPM's, watching the oil and AMP gauges for anything out of the ordinary. Everything feels good. We contact ground, and he tells us to taxi Runway 4L via F and K, and hold short of 4R. I taxied the aircraft, and first, it was a little difficult to differentiate between the rudder controls at the bottom of the foot pedals and the brakes at the top of the foot pedals. I brought the aircraft to a premature stop a couple times, but then I figured out that if I push the pedals with heel pressure, I tend to turn the aircraft, and if I push the pedals with toe pressure, I tend to brake the aircraft. I actually got quite good at using the rudder pedals to stay centered on the taxiway, and a little bit of braking in the turns helped me get through the turns a little more efficiently. By braking the right wheel while making a right turn, the plane is able to turn more sharply, which actually allowed me to taxi faster. Tom stopped us well short of 4R, and I enjoyed watching a Southwest 737 touch down on 4R and roll past us at more than 100 knots. As soon as he went by, ground control told us to continue taxi across 4R. I opened up the throttle to about 1,200 RPM's to get the plane moving, then scaled it back to 1,000 RPM's once I had overcome the plane's inertia. As we crossed 4R, I looked out of my left window with amazement as I could see THREE aircraft lined up on final, headed straight for me! The first one was at least 3 miles out, and wouldn't arrive for another minute or two, but boy, it was pretty intense crossing an active runway for the first time.

We pulled up to 4L @ Z, and I stopped the aircraft to hold short of the runway, about 5 feet behind the hold short line. Tom said I was a little too close to the hold short line for his preference, but he said I was fine because at least I was still behind it. He wants me about 10 feet back from the hold short line because it would sure suck if the wake turbulence from a landing aircraft flipped us over! Yes, Boss...

Moment of truth: We called up MDW Tower on 118.7, told him we were ready to go. The takeoff clearance came quickly: "Wind 060@7, turn right heading 180, runway 4L cleared for takeoff." Opened up the throttle and followed the yellow taxiway line to the center of runway 4L. Kept her rolling. Pushed her up to full power, keeping one eye on the runway centerline and one eye on the airspeed indicator. At 60 knots, Tom told me to pull back slowly on the control wheel, and with a level of power that quite surprised me, we were airborne. I've taken off in plenty of commercial aircraft that are 10 times as powerful as this little Cessna, but when you're the one with your hands on the wheel, you feel like you are controlling the most powerful machine in the world!

At about 800 feet AGL, with Tom's guidance, I banked the aircraft and began a right turn to the south. My first bank felt like I was going to roll the whole plane over. I looked down at the attitude indicator, sure that I was almost inverted ... Nope, just barely 20 degrees of bank, not even a standard rate turn! I decided I was happy with the 20 degree bank, and with Tom's help, held the aircraft's pitch to maintain a climbing airspeed of 75 knots. We levelled off at 1,900 feet, and I pushed the control wheel forward to get our speed up to about 100 knots indicated. After less than a minute, I noticed that I was still climbing a little bit, and Tom took the airplane for a few seconds to get us trimmed and stabilized for level flight at 1,900... at the very bottom of the MDW class Charlie.

You hear horror stories about bumpy rides in small aircraft, and I know that one day I will have to face that. But on this day, I was completely astonished by how smooth the ride was. I kept her straight and level, making small rudder corrections to keep the plane facing due south, and followed Cicero Avenue. Tom pointed out several landmarks that will one day help me find my way home. We spotted the two large red, white and blue Alsip water towers. There is one on each side of Cicero Avenue, and we flew between them like a football during a well-kicked field goal. Once we passed the water towers, Tom called MDW tower and told them that we were leaving the Charlie airspace to the south. Tower acknowledged, and we turned off the radios. We're a VFR aircraft (Visual Flight Rules), which means that when we're flying free of restricted airspace, we don't have to talk to anyone... we are responsible for our own separation from other aircraft and obstacles. We can just FLY!

Tom pointed out a couple regional fields that will help me find my way back home: Frankfort (a private airstrip), Meadow Creek (private), and Bult (C56). We might be landing at one of these fields during future lessons. Tom told me to always look for the large orange radar antenna in Frankfort, because it means that I am 15 miles from Midway. It took me a long time to spot that radar antenna... it was so tiny against all of the other high-resolution scenery (that was an FS9 joke... ha ha), but I found it. Finally, after reaching what I imagine is pretty close to the Peotone (EON) VOR, we were far enough from Midway to start practicing some maneuvers, and we got to work!

I worked on straight and level flight, trimming the aircraft to keep a steady altitude. At API, they call their system "Attitude Flying". No, this doesn't mean, "you need to have a good attitude before you go flying"! "Attitude" refers to the aircraft's relationship with the ground. Tom talked about using the nose of the plane, the window sills, and the tips of the wings as a visual reference point to help me determine whether I am climbing, descending, banking, etc. Tom asked me to pull the wheel back and start a gentle climb of about 500 fpm. He covered up the altimeter and vertical speed indicator, and asked me to look out of the left forward window panel, and level out the plane by judging the angle the plane is making over the ground. It is important for a beginning pilot to use visual cues rather than flight instruments to determine whether he is climbing or descending, because the instruments actually only register changes in the plane's position after 6-9 seconds of real time. Thus, if a pilot concentrates solely on the instruments, he/she isn't going to notice changes in the plane's altitude and attitude until 6-9 seconds after the change is already happening.

Tom asked me to pull back on the control wheel until the nose of the airplane touched the horizon. I did so, and began a steady climb of 500 feet per minute. Then, Tom covered up the altimeter and vertical speed indicator and asked me to push the nose forward until I was certain that I was in level flight once again. He asked me to reference the nose, the window sills, and the wing's relationship with the horizon. When I was satisfied that I had achieved level flight, I said, "Yahtzee!" Tom uncovered the instruments, and checked my attitude. Well, I am pleased to report that I called "Yahtzee" when the plane was very, very close to level flight. Tom was pleased. (No... Tom didn't ask me to call "Yahtzee"... I came up with that one on my own...)

We did some standard rate turns. Now, I rolled the plane over to a full 30 degrees of left bank, and looking out the left window I could almost see straight to the ground. When you are doing a standard rate turn, the plane tends to lose altitude, so you need to not only bank the wings, but also pull back on the yoke so that you hold your altitude in the turn. I did about 3 standard rate turns in this lesson, and never managed to hold altitude perfectly. I only dropped 100-200 feet in the turn, so it's not like anything was wrong, but I know I can do better than that. This will be one of my major focuses in the lessons to come. We did maneuvers like this for a little less than an hour. Tom complimented me on my ability to hold level flight and roll out on headings. Unfortunately, daylight was wearing thin, and it was time to head home.

We turned to the north, and I lined myself with Cicero Avenue again to follow it straight to Midway. I noticed that the heading indicator had precessed about 10 degrees during our turns. "Precessed" means that over time, the indicator loses an accurate representation of the plane's heading. As I lined myself up with Cicero, which I know is a north-south street, I noticed that the heading indicator was showing a heading of 350. I asked Tom if the heading indicator had precessed, and he agreed that it had, so I fixed it.

Within 10 minutes, I saw the Alsip water towers again. Tom asked me to descend to 1,900 as we continued north. And suddenly, Tom said, "Do you see Midway?" I looked forward over the plane's nose, and there was the airport, like a vast, bald rectangle of space in the middle of hundreds of buildings. I was so surprised that I hadn't noticed it eariler. I briefly glanced up and noticed O'Hare International Airport (ORD) just on the horizon to the northwest... I could even pick out runway 4R/22L! Tom contacted Midway Tower, "N172NT, a Cessna 172, 10 miles south of Midway, requesting full stop." The tower came back with pattern entry instructions, "N2NT, cross midfield at or below 1,700, make left downwind, runway 4L." Tom asked me to descend to 1,650 and pull the RPMs back to 2,000. I overflew the field, and looked down as a 737 landed directly under me!

As we passed 4L right at the center of the airport, Tom asked me to pull the RPMs back to 1,500, and turn left for a downwind to 4L. At this point, I was becoming overwhelmed. Big 737's landing on 4R, and we were going to be landing right next to them. I could hear my voice becoming more stressed, and I turned the airplane for the downwind, but I rolled out of the turn late and now I was cutting the pattern too close. Tom told me to bank to the right a little and straighten out my downwind. I told Tom, "I'm a little freaked out." Instantly, Tom said, "I have the airplane." And I said, "Thank you!"

Tom straightened out our downwind, continued descending below 1,200, and turned left base for 4L. Straight ahead, about 100-200 feet below us and 1/2 mile away, was a Southwest 737 landing on 4R. As a first-lesson student, I can only describe this aircraft to you as "HUGE"! Of course, there was nothing wrong with our proximity to the aircraft since he was landing on the parallel runway, but it is both unnerving and thrilling to be flying a tiny little Cessna next to those big guys!

Just as we were turning short final, the pilot of this 737 comes on the Tower frequency and says, "Tower, you see this Cessna headed straight for me? He's really close!" In my mind, I'm wondering, "Did I do something wrong?" Tom just snickered. "I'm not even past the centerline. What a jerk!" And it's true. There is nothing wrong with a Cessna landing on 4L while a 737 lands on 4R. This Southwest pilot was whining because he wants to be the only plane at the airport. What does he think GA aircraft are gonna do? Go sit in the hanger until 2 in the morning when there is no other traffic? Of course not! Us little Cessnas have just as much right to use the airport as the big jets do.

And now comes my absolute favorite part of my first flight lesson. Midway Tower vidicated us. This Southwest pilot whined about us landing on the parallel runway, like Southwest owns the whole airport and we have no right to be there. And the Midway Tower controller responded to this pilot by saying, "I told you where that Cessna was TWO TIMES already. I told you he was landing on 4L."

Tom was so pissed at the Southwest pilot that he didn't even hear what the tower controller said. He touched the aircraft down right on the centerline, and the bump I felt on touchdown was akin to hitting a medium size pothole in the city. He slowed down, exited the runway to the right at F, and with Tower's blessing, crossed 4R and stopped on the other side. We contacted MDW Ground, were given taxi clearance, and started to make our way back to the tower apron.

"Man, that pisses me off. I was nowhere near him." Tom scowled.

"Tom?", I said, "Didn't you hear what the tower controller said? He chewed the pilot out on the frequency. He vindicated us."

"Really?" Tom smiled. "Wow. That makes my day! Gotta love the controllers!" And we DO.

Pulled onto the tower apron. Pulled the plane into the parking spot, but facing backwards because the parking spot is almost right next to a barbed wire fence and there is no room to come at the spot from behind. I turned the plane on a dime by pushing the RPMs to 1,200 and tapping the right brake so that the plane could park facing forward. Of course, I missed the parking spot centerline by just a little bit. So get this... Tom told me to cut the engine, turn off all of the switches, and take the keys out of the ignition. Tom and I got out of the aircraft. Tom sat on the horizontal stabilizer on the back of the plane, lifting the front end into the air so I could push the entire plane into the parking spot. It took two tries, but we got it. I tied the plane down using the chains and ropes provided, and used a special knot Tom showed me that will hold the plane down securely but be easy for the next pilot to untie. And with that, we headed back to our cars.

One more funny bit. Remember how I sumped a little bit of fuel during the pre-flight walkaround to check for water in the fuel? Tom had given me a plastic sample cup to do this, and when I was done with the walkaround, I put the sample cup in my shirt pocket. Unfortunately for Tom, I didn't notice that the sample cup was STILL in my pocket until we left the airport grounds and got back to the flight school.

"Hey, Tom! Look what was in my pocket!" I said, holding up the sample cup.

"Well," Tom smiled, "I'll just have to put the cup back in the plane when I come in tomorrow morning." What a patient guy.

A thoroughly pleasant and useful lesson. Tom gave me several compliments... I was the best first-time student he's ever had. Looks like 300 hours of flying on VATSIM is going to be a tremendous advantage. THANK YOU, VATSIM!

1 and 1/2 hours in the air for my first lesson. Bought a pilot's log, recorded my hours, Tom signed off on them. Purchased a DVD ground school course from Sporty's Pilot Shop that will be a terrific study aid to help me complete upcoming FAA written and oral exams. Some of the acting is cheesy, but the information is valuable and thorough.

Huge kudos and thanks to Instructor Tom. A flight instructor should always let the student fly as much as possible, even on the first lesson, and Tom gave me complete control over the aircraft from the very beginning. Can't wait to work on those standard rate turns, can't wait to fly the traffic pattern correctly and turn to final myself.

Can't wait to go back.

Next lesson is on Monday evening... I promise myself that I will continue to write about each lesson, step by step, on my road to the Private Pilot's License. If I'm committed to flying, I'm going to stay committed to writing about it.

'Till next time....

- Airman Eric