11/11/2009 - "My brother is a great pilot."

When I was training for my license this summer, my sister Jaime had voiced a passing interest in taking a trip to Bloomington/Normal (to visit her old college campus at Illinois State) once I finally earned my ticket. And just last week, within hours of earning my certificate, I was excitedly telling Jaime all about the experiences of the day. It didn't take long... suddenly, I was making plans to transport my first passenger as pilot-in-command.

We will take advantage of our mutual day off on Veteran's Day and make a short hop to Bloomington. We'll have lunch at Jaime's favorite college restaurant, visit the campus bookstore, and explore ISU's campus. Jaime will get a walk down memory lane, and I will enjoy some cross country pilot-in-command time as well as some quality time with my sis.


Of course, I don't know how we will get around the city. By bus? By taxi? Either option could prove to be very expensive, and the airplane isn't cheap to begin with!

I look up Bloomington's Central Illinois Airport (KBMI) in the Airport Facility Directory. I note that there are two runways: 2/20 and 11/29. I also identify the FBO on the field, Image Air (marked in this airport diagram by a star at the top of the page), and I find their website, (now replaced by Synergy Flight Center). I begin reading comments that other pilots have left about the service at the FBO, and repeatedly see a phrase in the comments that pleases me very much:

Courtesy car.

Turns out that Image Air offers a free courtesy car to GA pilots who fly into KBMI. I call the FBO, and they assure me that they will make a car available. Transportation problem solved!

I wake up before 7:00 a.m., and set out to file VFR flightplans for the trip to KBMI as well as the return trip to KMDW. I will need to contact Kankakee Flight Service once I am clear from Midway's airspace to activate the flightplan. If I fail to arrive at KBMI within 30 minutes of my expected arrival time, air traffic controllers will start making phone calls to determine my whereabouts, and if they cannot verify that I landed somewhere, they will start rescue operations. Unlike IFR aircraft, I am not required to file a flightplan, but when I do so, it ensures that if there is any emergency and I am unable to declare it, my absence won't go unnoticed. Of course, I MUST remember to deactivate my flightplan once I have landed, because if I forget to do so, my aircraft might be listed as missing, resulting in a very costly rescue operation that I will be financially responsible for!

On a side note, the flight plan permits me to enter whatever I want into a remarks section... I decide to write, "First flight with my sister!"

Briefing uneventful, left the house at 8:30 a.m., planning for a 9:00 departure. Weather is stone cold perfect: Clear, sunny, a high in the mid 50's, a light wind from the east. As we drive down Garfield Boulevard on the way to the airport, I have the window open, enjoying the crisp fall air laden with the light scent of freshly fallen leaves. Anticipation!

We arrive at KMDW, enter through the south gate, park outside Atlantic FBO. Jaime is very impressed by the Atlantic lobby... the clean tile floor, the classy furniture, the HDTV, the kitchen decorated with glass and stainless steel, the comfy pilot's lounge... I think she was expecting maybe a hanger with a few planes in it, with a few pilots huddling around a trash can, chain-smoking cigarettes and burning their old VFR sectionals for warmth. We didn't see any of that today... it's not December yet. ;)





A quick check of the updated weather, a stop at the restroom and coffee machine, and we begin the short walk to N737ME. When we arrive at the plane, I began my preflight walkaround, and Jaime climbs into the passenger seat. She snaps this shot as I untie the security rope from the right wing. Plenty of fuel, and the plane looks great.







I give Jaime a detailed passenger briefing, making sure that her seatbelt is securely fastened, showing her how to latch and lock her passenger door, and I make sure that she will keep her arms and legs clear of the control wheel. I explain that her primary job on the flight is to continuously look around for other aircraft. I explain that when I'm talking to air traffic control, we're going to maintain a sterile cockpit; in other words, if I'm talking to controllers on the radio, Jaime and I won't talk to each other unless there is something critically important to our safety, for example, a converging aircraft. I challenge Jaime to a game: we will both look for aircraft, and whoever spots a plane should point it out to the other. I specifically ask my passengers to watch out for aircraft over their right shoulder, because my passenger has a better view of the area to the right rear of the aircraft than I do. A word to VFR pilots: Put your passengers to work! Ask them to help you look for aircraft... it's fun for them, and increases safety for both of you.

I call for clearance: VFR departure to the south. I taxi to the edge of the tower apron, perform runup; the engine is running well. I call for taxi: F, K to 4L, hold short 4R. As we roll on K, I can see a LearJet taxiing on Y that will eventually converge with us. The ground controller instructs me to give way to the LearJet, which I was planning to do anyway, so I slow down the taxi and let the LearJet pass in front of me. After the jet rolls by, we are told to cross 4R and continue to 4L. I pull up to the hold short line, perform a final flow check to ensure that the plane is configured for takeoff, and call up Tower, ready to go.


Tower asks us to position and hold 4L as a 737 departs 4R. I warn Jaime that we're going to do a short field takeoff to ensure that we will remain above the wake turbulence generated by the departing jet. Credit goes to Jaime for this takeoff video... Her phone interpreted the propeller as a strange black shape in front of our plane... Kinda looks like a Nike Swoosh, doesn't it?

Within a few minutes of takeoff, Jaime points out the left window, and I think that she's pointing out an aircraft. I'm scanning, squinting, staring out the window for this plane, but I don't see anything. Jaime taps me, and shakes her head 'no'. I'm so confused! I'm still in Midway's airspace, so I'm still talking to the Midway Tower controller, and Jaime is definitely respecting my instructions to maintain a sterile cockpit; she says nothing. Jaime gestures with her hands to indicate, "It was nothing, Eric! Don't worry!" So I press on.

Before long, we're clear of Midway's airspace, free to change frequency from the Tower controller, turning to a heading of 215, and climbing up to 4,500 for the trip to BMI. Finally, Jaime tells me what she was pointing at.

"I was pointing at a baseball diamond! I thought it was neat to see a baseball diamond from the air, so I pointed at it, but you're like, where's the plane where's the plane where's the plane?!? I guess I won't point out touristy things!"

Here I realized that I don't really spend time looking at the scenery anymore! Sure, if I have a spare second, I'll take note of a beautiful sunset or an impressive lake... but when I'm flying, my mind is thoroughly dedicated to seeing and avoiding obstacles and other aircraft. During my first lesson, I remember being overwhelmed by the sights, and working hard to take it all in, but now, the awesome spectacle of the world seen from the air has lost a little bit of its luster. I have no regrets... I'm glad that I have been trained to focus on what the plane is doing rather than the majesty of the scenery. I'm a pilot, not a passenger. I never stop flying the plane.

Levelling out at 4,500, leaning the mixture to optimize fuel consumption. I contact Kankakee Flight Service to activate the flight plan.

"Kankakee Radio, Cessna 737ME transmitting on 122.1, receiving on 114.2."

"Cessna 737ME, Kankakee Radio, go ahead."

"Cessna 737ME would like to activate VFR flight plan, departure time from Midway was 9:40 local."

"Cessna 737ME, your flight plan is activated, have a nice flight to Bloomington."

Our first checkpoint turns out to be difficult for me to see. I've chosen a crooked country road that intersects with a minor river, and I've learned from experience that rivers are very difficult to spot from the air. Jaime and I talk about this checkpoint for several minutes, and just as I am ready to give up on it and move to the next one, Jaime points straight down.

"Is this the road?" she asks.

I look out of the right window where Jaime is pointing, and instantly, I realize that she is correct.

"Yes! You found it!" I congratulate my sister.






We continue toward Bloomington. I am tracking the BMI VOR on the 220 inbound radial, and I explain to Jaime that as long as the VOR needle remains centered, we are on course. Passing a few more checkpoints, precisely on schedule... Before long, the town of Pontiac is off our right wing, and I can make out KPNT airport to the north of the town. Of course, I've been to KPNT before... on my nighttime cross-country! We're not landing there today, though... pressing on to Bloomington.





And at last, the town of Lexington is visible ahead. This is my point to begin descending to KBMI. I pull on the carburetor heat, enrich the mixture to full, and start the descent to 2,800. KBMI is a Delta that tops out at 3,400, and I will need to contact Bloomington Tower before entering their airspace. Tuning the radio to 124.6, and tuning the second radio to the ground control frequency of 121.65. Hey... the ground control frequency is the same at KBMI as it is at Midway!

"The airport should be straight ahead. Help me look for it."

Jaime and I scan the area ahead, and within 5 minutes of descending to 2,800, I can see the faint outline of Runway 2/20. We're about 10 miles away... it's time to call.

"Bloomington Tower, N737ME is a Cessna 172, 10 miles to the north, landing with November."

"N737ME, Bloomington Tower, report 3 miles north of the field on a left base for Runway 11."

"We'll enter on a left base for Runway 11 and call 3 north of the field, N737ME."





Jaime snaps a shot of the city of Bloomington to the west. That's ISU's campus in the distance. Kudos to Jaime for her camera work... she is taking snapshots with her camera and videos with my camera at the same time! We're down to 1,800 now, and I'm still aiming straight at the field. Soon, I'm able to make out Runway 11/29, so I turn slightly to the right, establishing myself on a long left base.







Credit goes to Jaime for taking this video of the landing... She used my 6MP digital camera, so the picture quality is a little better.

"N737ME is left base Runway 11."

"N737ME, don't have you in sight yet, state your position."

"N737 is 2 miles north of the field on a long left base Runway 11."

"N737ME, have you now, Runway 11, wind 090 at 5, cleared to land."

As I turn final, I realize why the tower controller was surprised about my position. As you can see in the video, I was really far away from the runway!

Tom's voice echoes in my mind, "Why are you flying a jumbo jet pattern!?! Always stay close enough to glide to the runway if your engine fails!"

Sorry, Tom.

However, I am proud to say that by applying a little throttle, I close in on the runway, pull the power and drop full flaps, touching down smoothy, and exiting left at D, the first available taxiway.

"Bloomington Ground, N737ME, taxi to Image Air."

"N737ME, Bloomington Ground, taxi to Image Air via A."

"To Image Air via A, N737ME."

We pull up to the FBO, and an aircraft attendant ushers me to a parking space. I shut down the engine, pop open the door, ask him to top off the tanks. Jaime and I gather up our things and head to the FBO.

"Hi. 737ME is here, and we have a courtesy car on hold," I say.

"No problem, sir." Grin.

I fill out an aircraft parking form with my name, phone number, and expected return time. They don't ask me for a driver's license, or a credit card. This is what I love about aviation: the entire aviation community is based on the honor system. I am a private pilot, which means not only am I offered a free rental car without so much as a verification of my driver's license, but I am trusted to bring the car back based on my promise to do so. Okay, granted... they DO have my plane, which is a pretty big piece of collateral, but still, it is really flattering to be trusted with a car based on nothing more than my promise that I will return it. We head out to the car, a white Chevy Cavalier, nice and clean.

I call Flight Service on my cell phone to close my VFR flightplan.

"So, you've landed safely in Bloomington?" asks the briefer.

"Yes, I have," I respond.

"Did your sister enjoy the flight?"

I laugh. When you put a remark in a flight plan, they pay attention. ;)

"Yes, she did!"

"Okay, your flightplan is closed. Enjoy your time in Bloomington." And with that, we set out on our Bloomington/Normal adventure.

We are both hungry, so we drive west to Veteran's Parkway, north to Vernon Drive, and west to Avanti's, at 407 S. Main St. This was Jaime's favorite college restaurant, so she is really excited. I commend the restaurant on their fresh Italian bread; it is warm, crispy on the outside, soft and tender in the middle. I order ravioli, Jaime orders tortellini, both of us order meat sauce with meatballs. We share our pasta, sip root beer, and enjoy some brother/sister time. We order a Gondola to go (an 18" sandwich on their Italian bread with salami and other cold cuts). A wonderful lunch.

Walking down Main Street, and Jaime is amazed to see her old dormitories, Walker and Dunn-Barton, have been completely demolished, and the university is building a new "Student Fitness Center/Kinesiology/Recreation Center" in their place. Apparently, "Kinesiology" is ISU's fancy word for "Gym Class". Stopping off at the Alamo, the campus bookstore, and I buy Jaime a belated birthday present: a pair of comfy ISU pajama pants. Continuing our walk around the campus.

Before we left on this trip, Jaime advised me that ISU has a Bowling and Billards Hall on campus, and of course, I just HAD to stop there! We bowl two games, laughing, having a great time. We wanted to play a game of air hockey, but sadly, we had no quarters!

Walking around campus for another half hour, enjoying the sunny weather. It's getting late. We walk back to the car, drive up to the Redbird Arena, look around for a little bit. We stop off at Dairy Queen for a couple Blizzards, and as the sun dips in the sky, we head back to the airport, planning to depart at 4 p.m.

The FBO has moved our plane to the front of the parking area to ensure an easy exit. I return the courtesy car, and settle up for the fuel: $60 for 14 gallons of gas. What a great FBO... I would definitely return! I double check the weather on http://aviationweather.gov, and it still looks great. I call up the briefer, and verify that no mysterious TFRs have popped up over Chicago... Nope! We're ready to go!

On my way out the door, it occurs to me that the sun might be on its way down by the time we get close to MDW at 5:00. I ask the lady behind the desk if she has "any word on the time of sunset," and she is perplexed.

Jaime laughs at me. "The word on the sunset?" she smiles, "It's going DOWN!"

I think you probably realize that Jaime learned how to be a wiseass by watching me. ;)

Smooth taxi and takeoff from BMI, calling up Kankakee Radio to activate my VFR flightplan, tuning the 040 BMI outbound radial, and heading home.






Within 20 minutes, I've reached my first two checkpoints, and the headwind is a little stronger than was forecast this morning. The sun is setting steadily. It's beautiful, but I definitely begin to feel that I'll be doing some night flight before this trip is over, and I'm a little nervous!







Forty minutes later, I can make out the white lights of the John Hancock and Sears Tower (and no, it is NOT called the Willis Tower, and never will be) on the horizon, and I am certain that I am close to Midway, but I'm a little worried about busting the Midway Class C. It got dark really fast, and I'm a little disoriented. The last thing I want to do is violate an airspace regulation!

Descending to 1,900, and scanning the highways below. I'm certain I can see I-80, but I'm having a little trouble spotting I-57, and I'm counting on spotting I-57 because the I-80/I-57 interchange is directly south of Midway, and I'm used to flying north from this interchange to enter Midway's airspace.

I decide to turn away from the city and descend to the south until I can get my bearings. I remember that Kevin said if I get lost on the way to Midway, I can track the EON 005 degree outbound radial, and it will lead me right into Midway's airspace. I tune my NAV radio, set it accordingly, and the needle immediately centers.

Wow... according to the NAV radio, I'm in the right spot, after all!

I turn the airplane back to the north and instantly identify the I-80/I-57 interchange, with Cicero Avenue continuing to the north.

I know exactly where I am.

I suddenly realize that I had nothing to worry about. I was precisely on course, and if I had continued to descend to 1,900 at my previous heading, I would have spotted the I-57/I-80 interchange within minutes, and continued to Midway. I also realize that instead of turning away from the city, I could have tracked the CGT 090 radial inbound, then intercepted the EON 005 outbound radial, and followed that to Midway. I'm splitting hairs, here. The fact of the matter is that I was unsure of my exact position, and rather than risk busting the Midway Class C, I decided to err on the side of caution until the proper course of action became clear. I was sloppy, but safe. ;)

I contact Midway Tower, enter the Charlie from the south, fly over the top of the airport to make a left downwind for 4L. Smooth landing, a little left of the centerline, but I slow down in time to exit at F, and with Tower's blessing, cross 4R and continue unabated to the tower apron.

I shut down, call up Flight Service to close the flightplan, and secure the aircraft. Jaime reminds me to get my emergency radio from the cockpit, and I'm glad she did, or I might have left my radio in the plane a third time! It's been a wonderful day, but the best part didn't come until we got home and I opened my Facebook page.

My sister had updated her Facebook Status to read, "My brother is a great pilot." I am overjoyed.

2.8 hours of cross country time on the books for a total of 8.1... 41.9 hours to go to satisfy my cross-country requirement for the instrument rating! I've come a long way, but I still have a long way to go!

- Airman Eric

08/13/2009 - "I feel like a real pilot today."

It's time for the final step before reaching a milestone.

Today is going to be my last trip with Tom before moving forward to solo cross-country. We're going directly from Midway to Lafayette (LAF), then a quick stop at Kankakee (IKK), and a return to Midway.

I am feeling very good about my flight planning skills. I am confident when picking checkpoints that will be easily visible from the air, and I am skilled at calculating estimated checkpoint arrival times. Towns, divided highways, major roads, railroads, rivers and airports are all valuable landmarks that a VFR pilot must use to find his way. And if I ever feel lost, I can always tune VORs to ascertain my position and take steps to get back on track. In short, Tom may be sitting next to me, but I'm on my own.

"Today, I'm pretty much just along for the ride," Tom smiles.

I take a moment to double-check my course calculation. It is important to remember that wind speed and direction constantly affects the path the aircraft makes over the ground. I am following a true course of 155 degrees, but the wind today is forecast to be from 170 degrees at 6 knots. It's not a significant amount of wind, but according to my calculations, I will need to hold a true heading of 156 degrees. Only one degree may not seem like alot of difference, but on days when the wind is 10 or even 20 knots, the required change in true heading can be significant.

It is also important to realize that an aircraft's true course is plotted according to lines of latitude and longitude, but the true course isn't necessarily the magnetic heading that the pilot needs to fly. Longitude lines are drawn to intersect at the North Pole, but the magnetic compass points to magnetic north, which is actually a couple hundred miles south of the true North Pole. As a result, a pilot must adjust the aircraft's heading to accommodate for the magnetic variation. The VFR sectional shows a magnetic variation of 2 degrees west in our area, so I am required to add 2 degrees to the true heading of 156, reaching a magnetic heading of 158. So, my magnetic heading is 3 degrees to the west of my true course according to the sectional, which doesn't seem like alot. However, the three degrees of difference, when multiplied over a 100-mile flight, can translate to more than a mile off course! Pilots must always be aware of how wind direction and speed as well as magnetic variation can affect the heading shown by the magnetic compass. Now, the heading indicator isn't so precise that it shows my heading broken down to single degrees, so I'm going to round my magnetic heading to 160 over the course of the flight because it will be easy to read.

Climbing out from Midway, and before long, we are free of their airspace on a heading of 160 toward Lafayette. I spot my first checkpoint, a small lake near a power plant about 9 miles south of Lansing. Tom calls this "Lake Wobegone" (as in Garrison Keillor's fictional hometown), but I don't see the real name on my sectional. This lake is easily identifiable, and we've arrived precisely on schedule.

Within 15 minutes, I begin to see I-65 winding steadily toward the south. I take a really close look at the highway as we get closer. I can make out the grassy median of the divided highway and a few dozen vehicles buzzing back and forth. I notice a red car travelling in almost the same direction as the airplane, and within seconds, we pass it. It's very liberating to realize that we're travelling at over 100 miles per hour, but we're so high up that it doesn't feel very fast. I wish I could travel this way every day!

Now that we're directly over I-65, I realize that my next checkpoint is very close. It is Jasper County Airport, just outside the town of Rensselaer. After only a few moments of scanning, I easily pick out the airport just to the west.

"There's Jasper County," I say.

Tom squints out the window and shakes his head.

"Nope. That's a farm," Tom corrects me.

Wow! Upon closer inspection, I could see that it wasn't an airport at all. I could see several low flat buildings with a long strip of concrete next to them, and I assumed that the buildings were hangers next to a runway. But I suddenly realized that Jasper County Airport has a north/south runway according to the sectional, but this long strip of concrete is oriented east/west. It couldn't be the airport.

I remember that Tom said that towns are easier checkpoints to pick out than airports. I began to scan ahead for the town of Rensselaer. I can see a group of houses and trees about five miles ahead, and I notice I-65 curving around it. Double-checking my sectional, and I suspect that it might be Rensselear. I look about a mile to the east of the town, and without a doubt...

"I see the airport now. I can see the north/south runway, and that's the town of Rensselaer to the east!"

"Yup," Tom agrees. Yahtzee!

Nearing Lafayette now. There is an astounding number of wind turbines to the west, and when cross-referenced with I-65 curving toward Lafayette, I realize that we are about 9 miles from town. Time to call up Lafayette Tower.

"Lafayette Tower, N737ME is a Cessna 172, 9 miles to the north. Requesting full stop."

"N737ME, Lafayette Tower. Report 3 miles north of the field; expect runway 23."

Much like Aurora, Lafayette Tower doesn't use radar. The tower controller literally stands in the center of the tower with a pair of binoculars, and when an aircraft calls up, he scans the skies with his binoculars in an effort to see them. Tower needs us to call up when we're three miles away because we will be much easier to see as we get closer.

I count city blocks just like I do when Midway asks me to report two miles south of the field. Within a few minutes, we're descending toward the field, and I can make out runway 5/23.

"N737ME is 3 miles north and we have the field."

"N737ME, make right base runway 23, report turning final."

This is the moment when I realize something critical: I've never landed at this field before, but my training has taught me how to enter the pattern, follow the controller's instructions, and land safely. I may not know exactly where the FBO is, and I would have to look the airport up in the Airport Facility Directory to find out what services they offer. But once I have the field in sight and I am given the traffic pattern entry instructions, I know what to do, and the same will hold true no matter which airport I fly to. Within a few minutes, we are safely on the ground in Lafayette. This particular landing really wasn't that big a deal, but for me, it stood as a symbol of culmination of my training.

Taxiing off to the side, and noting that I had estimated a 12:40 arrival time in LAF. The time now? 12:41!

"This is great," I say.

"What?" asks Tom.

"I feel like a real pilot today."

Sorting out my paperwork, reviewing my route for a few seconds, and I am ready to move on to Kankakee.

Lafayette Tower is running ground control today in addition to tower operations. The airport isn't much busier than Lansing on a weekday afternoon, so the tower controller is taking on extra responsibilities.

"Lafayette Tower, N737ME requesting taxi for departure to the northwest."

"N737ME, taxi to Runway 23 via B, B1."

Taxiing along the edge of the parking area, and I notice that Purdue University has a 737 parked outside of the Aviation Technology center. The engines seem to be a little bit small, so I'm not certain if this is a fully functioning 737, but it says "Purdue University" right on it and has the university's logo on the tail. I'll get a picture of it someday.

We get our takeoff clearance from the tower, and off we go!

Passing over the windmill farm northwest of Lafayette. There are at least 150 of these things! None of them are moving today, though... not much of a wind, I guess.

We pass over the town of Kentland, and it is marked by a very obvious divided highway. I point out the landmark to Tom.

"You're definitely getting better at spotting checkpoints!"

Thanks, Tom!

In almost no time at all, I look into the distance, and I can see Kankakee, plain as day. I begin my descent.

"What runways are available at Kankakee?" Tom asks.

Suddenly I realize sometime very embarassing... I forgot to write down the runways available at Kankakee, and I never printed a runway diagram. Oops.

"Uh, wow. I guess I didn't write it down!"

"You have to remember to take down all pertinent information about the airports on your route. Runways available at your destination definitely qualify as pertinent information!"

How much do you wanna bet that I will never forget to record the runways at my destination airport ever again?

"The main runway in Kankakee is 16/34," Tom finally lets me off the hook. "And where is the wind coming from?"

"The north," I say.

"Yup!" Tom agrees. "So, which runway are you going to use?"

"34," I respond. I look up at the field slowly approaching, and I can make out Runway 34. And my brain just clicked.

"I can make a right base for Runway 34 just like we did for 23 in Lafayette!"

"You sure can," Tom agrees once again.

It's all perfect! Keeping my speed up as I descend to the traffic pattern altitude of 1,600. We call the Kankakee CTAF and reported three miles out for a right base to Runway 34. No one responded, which means that no other pilots are on the frequency. I scan the airport area, and I can't see anyone buzzing around the field. The airport is ours.

Keeping my speed at 80 knots, 10 degrees of flaps, descending on base, and the runway looks good. 20 degrees of flaps, 70 knots. A right turn to final, and I roll out precisely on the centerline. From there, it's less than a minute, and we are safely on the ground. Another stellar landing.

"Nice work," Tom congratulates. I just smile.

Double-checking the paperwork, and heading home. Did more hood time on the return trip to Midway. I am having more difficulty holding my headings and altitudes because the air is a little bumpy today. My scan of the instruments keeps breaking down, and if I fixate on any one of the instruments, I am ignoring other instruments, and it shows. My altitude is increasing and decreasing outside of the tolerances that I will need to stay within during the practical exam. And I have an explanation.

I mentioned previously that when flying IFR, a pilot is unable to determine his/her attitude in relation to the ground because he/she cannot see the ground. In this situation, a pilot must rely solely on the instruments and completely ignore the motion signals received by the body's senses. And boy, is it hard! Today, I am having trouble holding my altitude while wearing the hood because I am trying to compromise between what the instruments are telling me and what my body is telling me. I guess that somehow I thought that I would be better able to predict the outcome of my control surface movements by using the instruments to make decisions in concert with information I receive from my sense of motion, but it is clear to me now that this is precisely what an instrument pilot cannot do. I need utilize my attitude indicator as my primary instrument for decision making, and I need to entirely ignore the sensations my body feels. There is value, however, in paying attention to my sense of hearing because the sound of the propeller changes based on whether I climbing or descending, but paying attention to my sense of motion is completely counterproductive. We have more time to work on simulated instrument skills, and I'm going to need it.

The best part of today's lesson was right at the end. I made a little mistake unfolding the pattern at Midway, and I was a couple hundred feet high on final. Tom asked me to put the aircraft into a slip. The wind was slightly from the left, so I applied as much right rudder as I could possibly muster and used the control wheel to hold the centerline. The nose of the plane pointed 45 degrees to the right, and I could see that we were descending much more quickly. By pointing the airplane's nose so far to the right, I increased the drag on the airframe and we descended sharply without increasing airspeed above 65 knots. When I was about 20 feet above the runway, I applied enough left rudder to straighten out the nose of the plane and point it down the centerline. Smooth flare just above the runway surface, and the plane settled down to a gentle landing. Exited right at F, crossed Runway 4R, and rolled straight to the gate.

Tom is satisfied. Solo cross-country is next. For the first time ever, I'm going to travel to another airport all by myself.

I can't wait.

- Airman Eric

08/04/2009 - "Everything you did was perfect!"

Nope, I'm not dealing cards while I'm flying, and that's not a strange new kind of baseball cap. In this picture, I am wearing a hood which will prevent me from looking out the windows, so I will be forced to fly the airplane by instruments alone. Today, we will begin simulated instrument training in N737ME.

Instrument flying allows a pilot to fly in conditions which prevent him from looking out the window to ascertain his position, most commonly because he is flying within a cloud. In case you're wondering, when a pilot flies into a cloud, he loses all visual reference with the ground and sees nothing but white. However, the instruments in the plane still give the pilot his attitude in relation to the ground, his airspeed, his altitude, whether he is climbing or descending, and can guide the pilot directly to a runway even if he can't see it. Of course, I won't be able to master all of that until I finish my Private Pilot Certificate and start working on my Instrument Rating. For now, I only need 3 hours of simulated instrument flying to ensure that if I ever did get myself into a cloud or if I lost my frame of reference with the ground, I would be able to use the instruments well enough to get myself out of trouble.

As a VFR aircraft, we are prevented from flying into clouds because we must be able to see aircraft in the distance at all times. So, in order for me to practice instrument flying, Tom will be my eyes. While I fly the plane by responding to the information given to me from the instruments, Tom will be looking out the window, making sure we don't come near any clouds, other aircraft, or any other obstacles that will put the aircraft in danger.

While Flight Simulator is lousy at teaching a pilot how to do ground reference maneuvers or how to use landmarks to identify one's position because the scenery in the game just isn't realistic enough, as I began my simulated instrument flying today, I could instantly tell that VATSIM and FS9 are excellent tools for teaching flight in reference to the instruments. The cockpit in the computer simulation displays the exact same instruments in the same places as this real-life cockpit, and when I put the hood on today and followed Tom's directions for turns, climbs, and descents, I was quite good at hitting my headings and altitudes.

The primary instrument that I must refer to is the attitude indicator (top row, middle). This instrument verifies whether I am in level flight, climbing, or descending, and it is weighted in the bottom so that it will always tell me where the ground is. Secondary instruments that provide me with additional information are the heading indicator (bottom row, middle) which tells me the compass heading that the airplane is pointed, the altitude indicator (top row, right) which gives the plane's altitude in relation to mean sea level, and the vertical speed indicator (bottom row, right) which quickly tells me whether I am climbing or descending. Additionally, I also refer to the airspeed indicator (top row, left), but not nearly as often as the other instruments.

On a side note... the instrument that is taped over is the turn coordinator... it wasn't working when this photo was taken. The turn coordinator helps verify whether the plane is yawing to the left or right, which would require rudder pressure to correct for the yaw.

On one level, instrument flying is very liberating. I am no longer responsible for looking out the window, watching out for traffic; Tom, my safety pilot, is taking care of that for me. All I have to look at are these six little instruments. In order to receive information from all of the instruments, I must maintain a scan. My eyes jump to each instrument, my brain ascertains the information it is giving to me, my hands and feet react to that information, and my eyes move to the next instrument. The attitude indicator is the most important instrument; my eyes jump to this instrument three times as often as every other instrument. So, in short, my scan of the instruments might go like this:

1. Attitude Indicator
2. Heading Indicator
3. Attitude Indicator
4. Altitude Indicator
5. Attitude Indicator
6. Vertical Speed Indicator

... and then back to the Attitude Indicator again. I also glance over at the Airspeed Indicator and Turn Coordinator from time to time.

"Fly heading 160, climb and maintain 3,200," Tom requests, simulating a direction from Air Traffic Control.

"Heading 160, climbing to 3,200." I respond.

Banking the wings right to a heading of 160, while pulling back on the control wheel to climb. When instrument flying, the standard turn is no longer 30 degrees; it is now 17 degrees, as shown on the turn coordinator. At this bank angle, the plane takes 2 minutes to make a full 360 degree circle. This bank angle is standardized for all instrument flying, so that Air Traffic Control can predict the turn radius that aircraft are going to make. And for a first time out, I've got my heading and altitude pegged.

"Wow. I can see that instrument flying is going to be no problem for you," Tom congratulates.

Thank you once again, VATSIM!

It was quite a day. MDW-ARR-JOT-GYY-IGQ-MDW, one landing at each field, with hood work in between. My landings are spot on nowadays. I am steadily able to touch down sooner and sooner, using up less and less runway. This will be incredibly important when I perform my short field landing for my checkride. In a short field landing, I must use up the least amount of runway possible. In order to do this, I am actually pointing the aircraft before the runway threshold rather than on it, because when I pull back to flare, the plane is of course going to continue past the threshold and touch down on the numbers or before. After all of my landings were done and we were headed back to MDW, Tom made one comment that I had never heard him make before.

"Everything you did was perfect!"

Wow.

I still have lots more work to do. Only managed .4 hours of simulated instrument, so I still need 2.6 hours more. But I can truly sense my readiness for cross country solo to be just over the horizon. I still have to do 3 hours of night flying as well.

Now, will somebody please help this guy find the master switch?

- 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