Still Trying To Land

It's been a while since I've written. I flew on Friday 8/26, and again on Sunday 8/28, and I'm going again today. Guess what? Landing is hard! On Friday, we flew from PAO out to HAF (Half Moon Bay). That was pretty cool, since we got to go up and cruise for a little while before launching into pattern work and landing practice. But once we got there things got pretty stressful. Luckily Kevin took care of the radio work for me -- HAF has no tower, so there's an open UNICOM frequency for all airports in the area. Pretty taxing to try to figure out what's going on, and you have to report basically any time you do anything. Plus, the fog was coming in pretty hard, and there was just enough room over the runway to do an abridged version of the pattern.

So we did a bunch of landings there. None were any good. I kept pulling too hard, causing the plane to "balloon" or start climbing a little bit. Not good; the power's already at idle, the plane's decelerating, and climbing (in the extreme) would result in the plane dropping on the runway from way too high. The one time I didn't pull too hard, I didn't pull enough and landed on the front wheel. Kevin saved the impact from being too hard, but he let it be alarming enough that I didn't want to do it again. He was getting very frustrated with me, actually -- I think this is where it would have been very helpful to really understand each step of the process before going into it. I did try to read up on it, but the few things I remembered from the reading wound up being incorrect (for instance, the literature I read said to judge your proximity to the center of the runway by looking at the side, since the center line disappears. Kevin says this is wrong, and I see why -- if you're looking at the side, how do you judge pretty much anything else? A better way is to use your peripheral vision but keep facing forward).

After HAF got too foggy to fly, we flew back to SQL (San Carlos) and did a few more landings there. Honestly I have no memory of those landings; I was too tired and just trying to get through it. I'm sure they sucked. And then we went back to PAO and did three more landings. The second one, Kevin took the controls and just showed me how to do it, what I should see. That helped a lot, and the last landing was actually not too bad, so we stopped there.

On Sunday, we just stayed at PAO and did 10 landings. One of them was fantastic; the rest all left something to be desired. I figured out a few things, though. For one, I am not actually raising the nose; I'm just preventing the nose from going down when it wants to. I've got a really good feel for the pattern and the approach (for the most part, though I still have a tendency to come in a touch high). I'm leveling off really well over the runway, and I'm holding my centerline OK. What I need to do at that point (and when the power is reduced to idle) is to WAIT. Wait for the plane to start pitching downward, and then don't let it, by pulling back. Then the rear wheels will touch first. AND I need to stop pulling back when the rear wheels touch!

It sounds easy, but it gets much harder if it's windy, for example. Then you've got to keep yourself over the center line with the same control as you're using for your elevation, and then you have to rotate yourself to be parallel to the runway using your feet! It's an exercise in coordination; it's pretty brutal.

So we'll try again today. And if I don't get it today, we'll try again Thursday...

Pattern Work

Today we had the longest flight so far; we were in the air for 2.0 hours. We flew out to Livermore, stopping to practice slow flight, stalls and steep turns, which was OK except I was a little tight on the stalls. I keep thinking they're more complicated than they are! They're not. Nothing really is.

Then we did six touch and gos at the Livermore airport. At first I couldn't even find the thing! I must advocate Google satellite views for this purpose, if not any other. But I did really well on my approaches. The landing itself however was a bit hairy. I kept tensing up, and not reacting enough to the plane's movements. I wasn't really able to control the plane on any of those landings, save the last one, and then too, only slightly. But I got my pattern work in, and we flew back to PAO for three more landings (actually Kevin did the second one just to show me). The third one I did pretty well. So, more of this on Friday!

Routines

I didn't get to go up again yesterday. I was really geared up for it, but got pretty drastically sick to my stomach after what seemed to be an innocuous lunch. I'm starting to see the value now of a set routine, and I may start trying to have exactly the same meal for lunch on every flying day, if possible. Pasta. It's easy enough to cook pasta at home and bring it with me to work, so I think I'll go with the pasta.

It would've been really nice to get back up in the air after such a good outing last time. Not that I think it was a bad decision; cancelling was a very good decision given the alternative. But still, now I'm not flying till Wednesday, which is again almost a full week off between flights. So, back to the bookwork.

I'm learning how to read maps of airport areas, how to determine what the patterns are for given airports, what runways they have, what obstructions are nearby. Obstructions are "things you might crash into during takeoff or landing," like trees, mountains, towers, buildings, basketball players, etc. There is so much reading to be done, and so much to remember; I'm thinking about seeing if anyone at the club wants to form a study group, except I'm afraid I won't have time for it myself!

So, next flight is Wednesday. Then, hopefully, we'll go to Livermore or Hayward and continue our pattern work!

Happy Landings

Yesterday we focused completely on landings. This was a three-step process. Step 1 was to be able to get near the runway and fly over it. This was hard enough, as it turns out. The approach to landing is not the most comfortable thing at first. It's so much easier to fly a plane when you don't have to worry about the ground! But the same principles apply; as long as you have airspeed, you have lift, and as long as you have lift, the plane stays in the air.

So we took off from Palo Alto in 6521J, which seems to have come down with a case of a bad radio jack. This was a factor later, when my radio completely cut out, and the tower was repeating "Cleared For Takeoff" getting more and more impatient, not that I blame them. We stayed in a pattern around PAO the entire time, taking off, turning right over the bay, coming back, and at first, overflying the runway. Kevin helped me a lot with the first few approaches, but gradually let me do my thing.

Overflying the runway was no easy task. You come in facing into the wind, which in this case was a 17 knot crosswind, so while you're moving along the runway, you're facing off to the right. A little disconcerting, but you get used to it. Then, to align the plane, we kicked in the downstream rudder. This aligns the plane to the runway, which is important, 'cause if you try to land while going sideways, you'll destroy your tires and possibly your landing gear. Not good. The problem is, once you align, the wind is still blowing and you start to drift, so you need to kick the ailerons in, into the wind. Kevin described this process like "trying to put kittens in a basket" -- completely accurate, not only in the fact that there are a million things to think about, but also just in that you can't stuff the kittens in there, you have to be gentle. Play the violin, don't chop wood.

The fourth time, we landed. By the fifth time, I landed almost myself -- the actual touch down was performed by me, alone, as demonstrated by Kevin waving his hands in my face as I was touching down and saying, "Look, I'm not helping you!" It was cool! But boy do I need more practice.

The nice thing was getting more familiar with takeoffs in the process, and with pattern work and tower comm -- still is difficult, but getting easier. The fancy noise cancelling headset helps!

So we're going again today, and hopefully we'll get to fly to Livermore or Hayward and do similar pattern work there. Fun way to spend a Friday!

Thoughts On Landings And Patterns

Part of the lesson yesterday that I mentioned was that we did several go-arounds, where you abort a landing and take off again. This is an important skill -- if your landing's going badly, you probably want to go around instead of crashing into the field.

As I said, this was really hard. Kevin had me try to keep the plane over the runway, and fly over the runway for almost the whole length before adding power. Essentially, land (almost) then takeoff, over and over again. Of course these are the two times in a flight when there's a lot going on, so it was pretty exhausting. By the end, Kevin was yelling at me: Why are you going left? You're scaring the shit out of the tower! Climb, faster, you don't want to hit those power lines! Right rudder, you're totally ignoring it!

Of course he was right about all of this; it was still pretty overwhelming. By the last time I had improved significantly ("Good job, beautiful!" At least I know he's being honest!).

Knowing how to land is obviously very important. I wish this were the Matrix and I could just plug in a program. "I know landings." "Show me." But I will know soon enough. I've now logged a whole 6 hours of flying time, which means I'm probably almost 10% of the way there! An incredible thought. I can feel my progress; the little bumps, the being sideways, all that stuff doesn't freak me out any more. Heck, I think I mentioned this, but I even OVERbanked and UNDERpulled on one of my steep turns! Not that I want to get into a habit of it, but it shows that I'm getting comfortable up there.

Now to study for a few days!

Recovery

Today's flight was much, much better. It's amazing what a good night of sleep will do for you, not to mention a little rehearsal. My slow flight was not bad; I anticipated the altitude drop, so overpulled on the slow down, and gained about 100 feet of altitude, but otherwise it was fine. My steep turns were not bad; I gained altitude once and lost altitude another time, but overall, I was OK. I got confused by the mountains and pulled out early once, I overbanked and started feeling the Gs stuff me into my seat, but it was not bad. My stalls were alright, but I still am not pulling up enough when I get up to 60 knots.

It'll come -- the important thing is that I did not feel the fear that I felt last time. That was really unpleasant; every time I turned 10 degrees I'd freak out. Not this time; I was fine. It's interesting; the biggest problem I had this time was that I'd anticipate what was going to happen and wind up overcorrecting. Kevin told me that I have to wait for things to happen and then react to them with the controls, not the other way around. It's kind of the opposite of the rest of life, where if you can anticipate something and prepare for it, you're a step ahead of the game.

Today's main lesson was "Turns About A Point." We flew out to Livermore from Palo Alto, in 5346D, and found a tree. The tree was standing all by itself; the objective was to fly a perfect circle around the tree. Without wind, this would be trivially easy, but with wind, it's pretty difficult. So we worked on this maneuver for a while, and then headed back to PAO. There, he had me overfly the runway a few times, trying to learn how to do landings. It was hard -- but mostly because I didn't realize till the final time that in order to stay over the runway, I don't have to point my nose at the runway; because there was such a heavy crosswind, I have to point into the wind to come in straight. Very weird; next time we'll be doing a lot of this. I expect in a week or two I'll be able to land a plane by myself! Very exciting.

I also debuted my new headset today -- it's AWESOME!

Lessons: Being tentative and tense helps nobody. Emergency situations in aviation require quick, decisive action.

Stalls...and Recovery

I don't know what happened today, but today was incredibly frustrating. I was tense, tentative, and afraid to be in the air. Not a good day to be learning stalls. I came in with the intent of being fearless with the controls, being sharp with my maneuvers and staying on that damn right rudder. Pretty much none of the above happened -- I was on the right rudder, but in such a choppy way that my takeoff looked like I was drunk.

Days like these, I wonder if I can ever be a pilot, or more generally, whether I can excel at anything I do. It's not a question of ability or intelligence; I'm totally positive I have the ability and the intelligence to be a pilot, and the knowledge will come as a result of that.

What I lack is the calm, the ability to relax under pressure and make the great play. People who have this skill are a cut above, regardless of their level of ability and intelligence, because they're able to apply themselves fully in the middle of a real situation. You simply can't apply your skills unless you're relaxed. If you're tense, you're going to blow it. Ask any baseball player, any firefighter -- even a programmer has to get into their relaxed zone before they can produce something truly great.

If you're hammering a nail, and you tense up and start worrying about hitting your thumb, you WILL hit your thumb, guaranteed. After today, I think flying is the same way. If I tense up and think about spiralling out of control, instead of how to perform the stall maneuver, I will spiral out of control. Today, I did not spiral out of control. I know why -- it's not that easy to send the plane into a spin, but I worried about it the entire time, so as a pilot, I stunk today.

I'm reminded of my childhood, and my tendency to blow the big moment. How many times did I wind up being the runner up in the spelling bee? At least 4 times -- sure, I could've won, but I choked. The one chance I had to play infield on my little league team? I tensed up and didn't field the ball cleanly; it came up and broke my finger.

As far as my flying is concerned, I am stalled. I need to perform the recovery maneuver.

Step 1: Nose down. That's right, time to hit the books and understand things from a technical perspective better. It's really interesting stuff, and will give me something to think about other than "oh my god we're gonna die" in the air.

Step 2: Full power. Go fearlessly into the next flight. When I wake up tomorrow, I'm going to want to go flying RIGHT NOW! Get me back on that plane, it's not flying me, I'm flying IT!

Step 3: Get up to speed. Learn the procedures. Memorize them so I can recite them with my head chopped off.

Step 4: Flaps halfway, and pull up. Stop the fall. Enjoy the process, take breaks, make it part of who I am, not just something I know.

Step 5: Once the climb starts, flaps in. As I learn more and more, my knowledge will continue to grow.

I feel a little better; a good night's sleep will go the rest of the way. Along with some right rudder.

Thoughts on Turns and Stalls

There's so much I want to do better. I'm so glad I'm flying tomorrow, because I can have a chance to improve what I've learned and do something new, instead of just doing something new and letting the old stuff slip. I need to get used to turbulence, and the feel of being in the air. I need to be more gutsy with the controls, especially the throttle and the rudder. The engine's not going to stop; we test for that before take-off when we do the engine run-up. More right rudder, pretty much always.

I realized yesterday that there's a LONG way between the first stall warning and the actual stall. A very long way. It was hard to even get the plane to stall fully -- the thing is pretty stable, and wants to keep flying in most conditions.

It's funny, I didn't even write about some of the other stuff he demonstrated yesterday -- 60 degree turns that put you in 2 G's (try lifting your hand when it weighs twice as much), and the zero-G maneuver (down really fast!) where you're weightless for a moment. These were actually very fun -- I guess I must trust my instructor quite a bit!

I'm really looking forward to being able to handle a landing by myself. I feel like I'm about halfway there -- I think I understand the mechanics of the approach. First, cut power to 1500 (or less), flaps at 10 degrees, and keep the airspeed at 65. DO NOT go slower, point the nose down if you're slowing. Add power to lengthen the glide. At some point (when? not sure) the flaps come all the way out. With all this knowledge, I can get myself very close to the runway -- but getting onto the runway is a different question altogether. I did participate in the landing, but I can't actually remember any of it since it was all happening so fast. I remember Kevin saying "Don't let it land, don't let it land!" right before the runway, I think to get me to pull back, which of course causes the plane to drop gently onto the runway.

This was only my third flight; I've logged about 3.4 hours I think. By the time I get my license I will have logged at least 60 hours -- it is incredible to think of all that I still have to learn. All in good time!

Stalling

Today was the long awaited Steep Turns lesson. We flew out of San Carlos (SQL) for the first time, which was a little different but not radically. We took off on runway 30 toward the north, which was an interesting pattern because SFO is not that far north of SQL. So, we started north, careful not to break 1500ft, careful not to turn left toward the hills too soon, lest we disturb the fine citizens of San Mateo, or too late, lest we enter SFO airspace and get shot down by military craft so fast we wouldn't even see them leaving as we plummet hundreds of feet to our fiery deaths.

So we turned left and headed for the hills directly over Bay Meadows Raceway, and climbed to 3500ft. The fog was coming over the hills -- I always thought the fog rolling over the hills in the afternoon was such a beautiful site as I drove along 280, but wow, the beauty of the exact same site FROM ABOVE, in a plane that I was flying.

N4849D, the Cessna 172 I was flying today, was a little different than the familiar N6521J at PAO -- not much, but a little. Older instruments, the radio talk button was in a different place, and most importantly, the sun shields were awesome! Big, huge tinted plastic sunshields that covered the entire window. So as I flew westward over the fog level and toward the hills, directly into the sun, naturally I completely forgot about these shields...

...but I digress. Once we got out over the Crystal Springs Reservoir, I demonstrated that I was still proficient with slow flight from last week. Kevin then showed me how to perform a steep turn -- a 360-degree turn at a bank of 45 degrees. 45 degrees is a heck of a lot more steep than it sounds like. It's amazing -- 180 degrees at that angle wouldn't be so hard, but about 240 degrees through it, you feel like you're going to fall right out of the sky.

It was a really cool feeling to do one of these turns myself! Bank to 30, start pulling back, add power as you keep banking on over to 45, and now, you're basically drawing a line along the horizon with the top of your head. Or, that's what it feels like -- if that were really true, it'd be a 90 degree bank and we'd be dead. In any case, I did really well on these turns. It's all about feel -- I didn't pay much attention to the panel at all, and wound up in a nice turn, and exited at almost just the right point! Amazing, the power of looking out the window.

So I did a few of these turns myself, though my right turns were considerably harder than the left (it's that left-turning tendency of the plane; helps you on the left turns, but you've gotta lay on the rudder for the right turns). I even discovered that on a well done 360, you wind up hitting your own turbulence. Kevin was happy enough with my progress that we moved on to the next unit.

Stalls.

Stalls are conceptually one of the scariest parts of learning to fly (beyond radio communications) -- you're in the air, and you have no lift. No lifty, no savy from no crashy. But, as Kevin puts it, it's just another maneuver, another pushing of the limits of the flying machine. So, he demonstrated a power off stall (which is not a stall with the power turned off, it's a stall that is prone to occurring during a landing) and a power on stall (prone to happen during take-off), and of course their respective recoveries.

The recovery is basically the same -- nose down, power full, pull back. On power on stalls, power is already full, so it's pretty much just get the angle of attack under control. Next lesson (Thursday) there will be more stalling, I'm sure.

With any luck, my snazzy new headset will have arrived by then!

Headset!

I've just purchased a headset! I got a LightSPEED Twenty 3G, the "almost top of the line" LightSPEED set. A comparison of their sets is here.

I chose LightSPEED because they're one of the biggest brands, along with David Clark, but are more focused on the private pilot industry and less on the military. Of course the Bose ones are supposed to be excellent, but at more than twice the cost...it can wait.

I chose the Twenty 3G because it's an effective price point. For $300, you can get a refurbished 20XL from their online store. But I found a store that sold the 20XLc new for about $400, which gets you a cellphone/music jack, a 3 year warranty instead of 1 year, and...well, a brand new headset. And the Twenty 3G was only $50 more than that, and it gets you an EQ and two more years on the warranty, plus a brand new design.

Eexcellent!

I had been wondering whether I could somehow use my molded in-ear monitors that I use for my band, or something like them, instead of a headset. But I gave up.

Book Smarts v 1.0

I spent a little time today reading from one of the books I'd picked up. I've finished the chapter on basic aerodynamics, which is interesting because while some of it seems very familiar to me from my aerospace engineering courses, some of it doesn't seem familiar at all! Apparently all single engine planes pull to the left, for a variety of reasons, especially at low airspeed and high power, i.e., at takeoff. Next takeoff I'll have to try a little right rudder. What causes turning? The horizontal component of lift.

Now I'm reading about the mechanics of the plane itself. The engine's a lot like a car engine. Apparently carburetors can freeze even on a 70 degree July afternoon! It seems like it's dependent on not only the temperature, but also the dewpoint, which is a portion of the weather report that I always figured was some leftover from a committee meeting in 1942 when some meteorology nerd convinced them to show the dewpoint because he knew what it was and nobody else did so they couldn't argue back. Shows what I know!

Four more days. Plenty to learn in the mean time!

Grounded!

I got a call today that the venerable 6521J needed some work done on her fuel system, so no steep turns today. West Valley Flying Club does not really have that many Cessna 172's. I thought about trying out a different type of aircraft, but I kind of don't want to confuse myself right now. I tried turning really hard in my car a few times, but...scary...

So I went to the airport store to try on headsets. Kevin recommends David Clark and Lightspeed, Tim (former coworker and pilot) recommends Lightspeed and Telex. So I'm looking at the Lightspeeds. They look good; the big question is whether to get active noise reduction (ANR) or not. Currently I'm leaning toward "yes" because I think it's important to protect my hearing. I wonder if I can somehow rig my in-ear monitors for this purpose...but then with the left one cutting out, maybe not the best idea...

I am definitely psyched for the next flight. Probably Tuesday, but possibly Saturday if I decide to try a different plane (Messieur Javert...wow, if anyone gets that, I'll be really impressed!).

Lasting Impressions

I've not had any lessons since the last one, but I wanted to take the chance to be less technical, less mechanical about the whole process.

The first take-off that you handle yourself is such an unforgettable feeling. Yes, I understand how and why airplanes fly, critical velocity to produce enough lift to counteract the weight of the craft, blah blah blah. Dude....you're IN THE AIR with nothing beneath you!! As you climb, the world gets smaller and smaller, and it all seems so peaceful. Until I flew over 880, that is; traffic was backed up for miles, and I was so glad to not be in a car!

Scariest 2 moments of my life, post-first-flight:

1. Driving home along the freeway right after the first flight. I don't care what anyone says, freeways are scary. There are other cars within 5 feet of you and you're all going 80 mph! Heck, I was only going 100 or so in the air, and if there was another plane within 5 feet of me, I'd be a dead man for sure!

2. Biking to CalTrain yesterday morning. A garbage truck passed me at the exact same time as I passed a storm drain on the side of the road. My choices were (a) go around the storm drain and hope the truck adjusts, or (b) go over the storm drain and hope to maintain stability. I chose (b). Stability is not how I would describe what happened next, but I did not fall. Thankfully, just a momentary loss of control.

I can't wait for tomorrow's flight!

First Two Lessons

My first two flying lessons were incredible enough that I decided I really needed to write about them -- not so much to share my experiences, though that would be great, but more to solidify in my mind what is happening, because it's all so incredible and bizarre, and yet it feels so right.

I have wanted to fly for a long time, ever since I was 11 and my sister Shilpa was 14, and she decided she was into flying. I was at that age, that everything she thought was cool was definitely cool. So much of who I am is, I guess, about who she used to be. Funny, that. That probably had something to do with my choice to get a degree in aerospace engineering, too. Anyway, onward and upward..

You should know that I am changing the names of instructors, because at some point I may have to say something less than glowing about them, and since I'm still in the process, I don't want my fear of making a political mistake interrupt my ability to express myself.

So, about five years ago, I was at the website for the West Valley Flying Club here in the bay area, and as I browsed through the instructors, I found a familiar name, someone I knew from another part of my life. I was in a phase of life where I believed that coincidences were somehow meaningful, and since I'd been thinking about flying for such a long time, I called him up. We rented a plane, I don't remember what kind but probably the exact same thing I'm flying now (heck, it might be the exact same plane!).

We flew out of Palo Alto, did some simple turns, learned to locate other traffic, landed in Livermore and had lunch before flying back. Bill let me handle the takeoff (under heavy instruction, obviously) on the way back. It was a lot of fun, but...I just wasn't ready, and something about it just didn't feel right. I hadn't done a lot of research, I didn't know much about what I was getting into, it seemed like a huge commitment. So I let it go.

A few months ago, the bug came back, and bit me hard. I decided I was ready, and that there was no reason to not do it right now. I'm impulsive that way, I guess. But this time I did my research. I found an instructor who it looked like had a background I could relate to, someone with plenty of experience who expressed things in a way that was easy for me to hear and understand. I met with Kevin two weeks ago, and he went over the whole program with me. He encouraged me to talk to other instructors, so that I could make sure I got the right fit. Of course, that statement right there told me that he was probably the right fit. I did talk to a few more people, and tried to find another instructor profile on the website that looked interesting, but I couldn't. So, there it was.

The first lesson was like candy. We took off in a Cessna 172 (and as far as I know, we're going to stay with 172s since it's good to get used to one kind of aircraft when learning) with tail numbers 6521J, up from Palo Alto (PAO), made a left at the Dumbarton Bridge, and hung out between highways 280 and 35 and learned how to climb, descend, turn, and combine those maneuvers. Also, how to maintain an altitude and heading, and the most scary thing, how to talk to the tower. Communications seems like one of the hardest parts of this whole thing -- it's the least physical, and if you do it wrong, it can kill you. So, we started with Kevin telling me exactly what to say, and me repeating it to him and then saying it to the tower. I couldn't understand what the tower was saying back to me at all; I had to look at Kevin to repeat it to me before I could even understand the words, and even then, I had no idea what those words meant! All part of the process.

My second lesson was yesterday. I learned how to bring the plane into slow flight, perform maneuvers in slow flight without falling out of the sky, and bring the plane back into normal flight. We're basically learning about the limits of flying right now; this was all about how to handle the plane when you're about to stall. With flying, "stall" doesn't mean that you forget to press the clutch and the engine stops running. The engine is still running, the prop still turning, but because of the angle between the wing and the oncoming air ("angle of attack"), you have no lift. As far as I can tell, the point is to learn how to react when you're close to stall (which can happen at any speed), and the point of going slow is it's the most controllable and recoverable way to be in those conditions.

It was really interesting. The controls that ordinarily reacted very tautly were mushy. It felt like (and this is probably true) the gusts of wind had far more control over the attitude of the aircraft than I did with my puny controls. The stall warning went off many times -- aircraft are built with a slight twist in the wing, so that the part of the wing nearest the fuselage stalls first and the tips are still generating lift. Stall is detectable as there is a significant pressure drop at the front ("leading edge") of the wing when stall occurs ("the flow separates"). When the stall warning went off, my instinct was to push the nose of the plane down -- this makes sense, really, because stall (at least in this case) is a byproduct of an angle of attack that is too great. Lowering the nose means reducing this angle.

Part of what I'm learning now is the relationship between pitch (the front-to-back angle of the plane relative to the ground, which is intimately tied with lots of metal to the angle of attack) and airspeed (point the nose down, you go faster), and power ("thrust") and altitude. Car drivers are accustomed to thrust (gas) being related to velocity, but that's only because your altitude is held constant. In a plane, more thrust does generate more velocity, but lift (the upward force generated by the wings) increases as the SQUARE of velocity! So really, the dominating result of thrust is lift, which leads rather directly to more altitude.

Way too long. Next one will be shorter!