Waiting Game

Apparently Kevin is quite in demand! I slacked off on scheduling flights, and now I wasn't able to schedule one till October 11! Hopefully there's a cancellation before then. I've been studying kind of at random, but kind of for the pre-solo open-book written test that I'm halfway through. I just today discovered what the odd-even rule is -- between 3000 and 10,000 feet (I think?), if your heading is between 0 and 179 degrees (east), stay at an altitude where the first number is odd (3500, 5500, etc). Otherwise, stay at an even altitude (4500, 6500, etc). So you don't crash. Cool, huh?

Not much else to say right now. Check out my main website!

More Study, More Thoughts

I went over some of what I learned about airspaces last time; I wanted to be more clear about the difference between Class C and D airspaces (now that I'm awake). Class D is cylindrically shaped around the center point (the center airport). It goes from the ground up to whatever altitude is specified. Class C is more complex, as seen in this image. The inner circle does go to the surface, and then there's an outer circle that is up off the surface. Kind of like class B, but in class B, there are many outer circles and areas. One of the things that sometimes shows up on the charts is circles around airports -- Class B, C, D, and E circles are around many airports. Class E is the most interesting and irregular, because it shows up all over the place, and there are many different designations for whether it starts at the surface (purple dashed line), at 700 feet AGL (purple shaded line), at 1200 feet AGL (the default, but the legend also says that it's indicated by a blue shaded line), and some other altitude (blue double-dashed line, with altitude indicated in MSL).

Other than chart reading, I've studied some about takeoff and landing distances, aircraft loading and center of gravity, flight planning (I'm required to carry 30 minutes of fuel more than what it will take to get me to my destination during the day, and 45 minutes more at night), and weather -- this is really hard. I've probably mentioned the ADDS weather service before which gives weather reports and forecasts in a highly cryptic format. As if that wasn't bad enough -- we're basically expected to know enough about the weather to be able to predict what conditions will be. For example, if I know that the temperature and the dewpoint are fairly close to each other, and that the winds are coming from a certain direction (over the water, maybe) bringing in cooler and moister air, I should know to expect fog. That's a pretty simple one, but it's the most complex one I can understand at this point. So much to study!!

Several people commented about Kevin's tactics and my experience with him in last week's flight. First off, thank you for your support! I really appreciate it; it's amazing how people on line, some of whom you've never met in person, can be really supportive and motivating! So, thank you.

Part of why I write this blog is to say things as I see them, without the need to have perspective or "be an adult" or any of that, and in fact, to help me gain perspective on what has happened. Writing that did enable me to go to the next step and say what I needed to say to Kevin in a way that he'd respond. He would not respond well to me going up to him and saying, "Kevin, we need to talk." But, on our way out, I did make it clear to him that it's frustrating for me to be expected to do things that I'm not adequately prepared for. He responded well, without the least bit of defensiveness ("Of course!" he says, almost to say, "That's the point -- you're going to get frustrated sometimes!" but without making me feel stupid),and then we had a long ground session to talk about air spaces. He also told me that just because he asks me a question, doesn't mean I need to know the answer -- in fact, the examiner will continue to ask me questions until I don't know the answer, just to see where I am.

I guess what I'm saying is: Anyone you spend that much time with is going to be frustrating at some point. Kevin is excellent except for the way in which he pushes me, and for me, if I understand that "OK, he's trying to push me right now," then I can deal with that -- it's a lot easier than trying to find another instructor who is as good as he is; by doing that I could lose a lot of time and money. Now, if it becomes a thing where flying is no longer fun (for a longer period of time), if I can no longer learn from him, then yes, I have to make the switch. But I've had two bad flights out of ..15 or so, which is pretty good considering that neither flight was really that bad! And both times, I should mention that he's been very good about praising me (and yesterday too -- he actually said that I have a god-given ability to fly), it's just that when I'm in the zone of being hard on myself, the words just go in one ear and out the other.

The first instructor that I went up with, a few years ago, actually yelled at me when I couldn't keep the aircraft level. From what I've heard, many instructors are like that, which is surprising to me. I think it has to do with the fact that getting a CFI (flight instruction) certification is all about air skills, and not about teaching skills. It's interesting; I thought about finding a woman flight instructor -- I feel that the way men communicate and the way women communicate is totally different. I can do both, to some extent, as much as a guy could, and sometimes the female mode actually comes more naturally to me (that's what I get for having a dominant mother and an older sister, I guess!). Once I met Kevin I really liked his style, his directness and his attitude toward flying and toward teaching. There are so many variables...

Anyway, I'm back in the air, getting ready to solo, trying to stuff way too much into my brain, and trying to get to that solo flight! After the check ride, the first solo will be a "supervised" solo -- we'll go up together, go three times around the pattern to warm up, and then, in his words: "I'll get out and sit on a bench next to the runway, and watch you do three more takeoffs and landings." I thought that was funny, that part of the procedure is that he sits on a bench.

Which reminds me, I guess I need to know the ground-to-plane hand signals...aaaagh! Too much to study!! :-)

Getting Ready To Solo

I purposely took a lot of time (9 days) off since my last flight before I flew again. I really felt that the biggest frustration for me last time was a lack of preparation, so I decided I'd take some time and study.

Did I study? Do I ever? No. Well, a little. But I did go out and get a checklist, some charts, and a kneeboard. This is stuff I should've had a long time ago, when we first started going to other airports. Or maybe earlier. Maybe the first time I flew, I should've had these.

I've learned a lot in the last week. Most importantly: Airspaces. The air is divided into different airspaces. Speaking to the question posed by a co-worker of mine: "If I jump off a building, do I have to answer to the FAA?" The answer is no, because you're probably in Class G (uncontrolled) airspace. If that building is in an area where controlled airspace (class B-E) extends to the surface, then maybe so; for instance if you jump off the main terminal building at SFO you might be in trouble. But then you'd pretty much be in trouble anyway.

Class A airspace starts at 18,000 feet above sea level (MSL), so we don't worry about it. The rest, we worry about. Class B surrounds BIG airports; there are only 34 (or so) class B airspaces in the country. Luckily we have one to contend with right here at SFO. The airspace extends out in concentric circles with progressively higher floors -- at the airport, it extends from the ground all the way up to 10,000 feet. The next ring out, it might start at 2500 feet MSL and go up to 10,000 feet. Farther out, it starts at 4000 feet on up to 10,000. It's complicated, and I as a student pilot must avoid it at all costs. A licensed private pilot can only cross that boundary with special clearance, which I believe might even cost money.

Next is class C. Smaller big airports have a class C airspace surrounding them. These require two way communications with the control tower. Same with class D -- actually I guess I need to figure out what exactly the difference is between class C and D; C definitely has more flexibility in its shape and limits. Class D is what surrounds airports like PAO, SQL and LVK. Class E is controlled airspace, and starts at 1200 AGL (above ground level) most places, unless it's indicated to start at 700 AGL, or another altitude. Where it's not class E, it's class G (uncontrolled).

It's all on the charts. A tad confusing, but..better than not having charts.

Anyway, today's flight went pretty well though I still needed some help with the tower comm. Not as bad, but I did forget to report on my approach to LVK. Kevin bailed me out this time. My landings were, as Kevin said, "....safe." Not graceful, but I put it down, and didn't hurt the plane or any people. I should be ready to solo in about 2 more flights!

I'm really relieved that this flight went better. I was so stressed out today about it, after last time. I even snapped at my girlfriend on my way out of the house. But, I have to realize at some point that I do know how to fly. One alarming development is that I think I'm developing a stutter. It happened when I was talking to PAO tower, and it happened again at the grocery store afterwards. That would be a bad thing, given my budding career in the performing arts..

Or maybe I just need more sleep...

Real Downer

My last flight was last Thursday, and it was such a downer that I haven't wanted to write about it. Basically what happened is that Kevin told me to fly him to Livermore (LVK) all by myself, with no help from him. I was not prepared for this; I actually hadn't done any work at all with reading charts, so navigation was not something I knew how to do.

Startup, run-up and takeoff all went fine, and then things started to go south. I hadn't paid much attention to altitude limits in certain places (due to the presence of SFO nearby), so I didn't know them, and Kevin wouldn't tell me. OK, I could deal with that, no problem. We got out to Sunol and did slow flight, steep turns and stalls; the steep turns went well but I lost too much altitude in slow flight and in my stall recoveries.

Then things got really frustrating. I called LVK tower to tell them I was inbound. I told them I was over "the reservoir." He asked "which reservoir?" So I spit out the only one that I knew, San Antonio. Turns out I was wrong; it was Del Valle. Kevin corrected me, and I corrected myself to the tower. The tower said something I didn't understand, and Kevin (after waiting a while) translated and said he told me to get out of his airspace until I knew where I was.

The tower called back after a few minutes and asked for my current position. I told him, and he again gave me a set of instructions I could not understand. Kevin let me flail. Most of me wanted to turn the plane around and just go back to PAO; a very tiny piece wanted to point the nose down and just end it all. By this time I was so near the airport and so high that it was a miracle I even made it down at all. Actually it was a miracle I even found the airport.

It's not that I mind not knowing stuff, or even being disciplined by the tower. I'm glad I'm not ATC; they've got a tough job. But what I really didn't like was being set up for failure and hung out to dry. I know I'm close to soloing -- but if Kevin had asked me, "have you gotten yourself some charts and studied the airspace?" I would have said "No." "Do you know the reference points about LVK?" "No." "OK, cancel your next flight and don't call me till you've studied."

That would've worked fine. He didn't have to throw me into a situation like that and humiliate me to make his point. I can see if I was cocky and needed to be taken down a notch -- but that's really not the case; I'm really the opposite -- way too self-critical, not confident enough. I know that I need to learn to shrug off failures and move on; to that end, when I was told to get out of the LVK airspace, I wish I'd just said, "46D" to acknowledge the instruction politely (but I would've needed to understand the instruction).

If the intent was to light a fire under me, it has worked. I went out and bought charts, a kneeboard, a checklist, and a few other things. But honestly, I don't need my instructor playing games with me like that. He's a good instructor; he's taught me a lot in very little time, and after the flight he was very effusive with praise for the things I did right (my landings were good, even the no-flaps variety; my go-around at LVK was great, and most of my stall/steep-turns/slow-flight maneuvers were good), explained to me a few of the things I did wrong (brake too hard on landing, and of course all the LVK crap), and expressed a lot of confidence in my ability to solo. But I was left with no confidence of my own in a few areas, especially navigation (probably a good thing) and tower communications (..but how do I study?). And for that, I'm not sure he's exactly the style I need -- just tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it. No games.

Practice Makes...

Today I was really, really tired. I've been averaging probably about 5.5 hours of sleep per night for 4 nights, which is simply not enough. I staggered through work today, and had to nap in my car in the afternoon (which doesn't really work; one of the few lame things about VWs is that it's really hard to recline the seats). So I wasn't expecting great things from my flight this afternoon.

But it was good! We went to LVK (Livermore), and on the way out, we practiced slow flight and a simulated engine failure, which I executed nearly perfectly. We then went for a landing, but Kevin made me go around because I neglected to go through the pre-landing checklist. It's a good thing -- I had never gone around before, so I got to learn the procedure. The next landing we did as a simulated engine failure -- this was funny; he pulled the power, told me I had an engine failure, and the first thing I did was tell him I'd land on the field below us. His response: "How about the runway?" I had to laugh. So that landing went pretty well. Then we tried a few no-flap landings. The first two times I came in too high and we had to go around (again, good practice). The third time was better, but it was pretty freaky with the shallowness of the approach. I like flaps. Flaps good.

Then we flew back to PAO and on the way out, we did a power-on stall. It went alright but I had a little trouble staying coordinated with the rudder. On the way in to PAO we were originally going to do a no-flaps landing, but the ATC brought me in right onto the base leg (i.e. not much pattern to go through) and it was a weird enough approach that Kevin allowed me to just do a normal landing. It went alright; I leveled off a little high (actually, that was consistent today) but I got it down, on the rear wheels. So that was it!

Kevin says I'm almost ready to solo, that I just need a little more practice on the landings and the maneuvers. I agree -- there's a lot to remember and I need to study some, especially about the aircraft, but I think I'm close. I can maintain altitude, I feel in control of the craft, takeoffs are easy, landings are not easy but they're possible. Probably in a couple of weeks I'll be soloing!

Commercial Flights!

Last weekend I went with my band Hookslide to Dickson, TN to sing to a bunch of school kids and raise money for evacuees from Mississippi and Louisiana. Long story, but the relevant part here is that it was the first (and second thru fourth) commercial flight I'd taken since starting my flying lessons. A few observations -- first, we took off out of SJC to the south, which seems like it's a rare phenomenon. But it gave me a good look at Runway 29, where I'd practiced landings a while ago. On the way out, instead of flaps that extended rearward, the wings appeared to have some sort of mechanism on the front of the wing to serve the same purpose. And on the way back, on a plane with normal flaps, the flaps were extended at takeoff out of Houston. I figured maybe it had to do with wanting a steeper angle of ascent...but that doesn't really make sense; I'd think it'd have the opposite effect.

I guess all commercial flights basically take long, straight-in approaches; at least that's what it felt like. And the landing roll was very familiar; I could feel the plane level off, hear the power reduce, and feel the flare. I think the weirdest thing was not being able to see outside. I also did not get an opportunity to listen to the radio communications; these airlines were not playing them.

Still recuperating from the weekend, and still need to write about my lesson today!

Emergency Landings

I guess what it took was an emergency, but I landed yesterday! We concentrated on emergency procedures (there were no actual emergencies) yesterday -- pretty horrifying stuff, but it's all part of the deal.

First, we had a long ground lesson on different types of emergencies. What to do if there's an electrical fire (master off, the engine will keep running, power everything off, turn the master on, hope there's no smoke, power on one radio, hope there's no smoke, find an airport and land), what to do if there's an engine fire (is it oil or fuel? Actually I don't remember all the steps, but definitely cut the fuel mixture, shut the fuel flow off and stop the engine), and mostly, how to land in the event of an engine failure.

The steps are:

• Establish best glide at 70-73 knots
  
• Find a field to land in, head for it, and circle over it
  
• Attempt restart
  
• Failing that, declare emergency
  
• Shut down
  
• Set up landing pattern over field
  
• Land
  

There are many details in each of these steps. Establishing best glide instantly can give you several precious seconds. Finding a field could be easy, depending on where you are, but over populated areas, it's pretty bad news. Kevin said that when he flies he always has an emergency field in mind; that's what's going through his head. I believe that; it makes complete sense to be thinking of that (to some extent I do the same thing when driving -- what's my escape route? But of course it's harder in a plane). A good field is flat. Dangers include trees, power lines, people and animals, any sort of obstruction. If there are no fields, land on a highway -- landing speed is about the same as a car's speed on a highway IF the cars are moving, which around here is not a sure bet at all. If there are no suitable landing sites...well, try not to take anyone with you. Don't land near houses. When we were flying over Fremont, several times I thought I'd seen a good field, only to realize that the field belonged to a high school. NOT a good idea -- even if you live, do you want to live knowing that your emergency landing took out a high school kid?

Water is, as it turns out, an extremely bad idea. On landing, the plane wants to flip over forward; in water, it will. You can't open the doors until the pressure's equalized, meaning the cabin is full of water. And since you're upside down, the first part of you to be in the water is your head. How long can you hold your breath? How about right after a crash landing? Not good -- landing in water is essentially committing to a slow, painful death. I wonder if this is true of commercial jets -- they always show the water landing in the safety video. Will the plane actually flip over? I doubt it; the shape of the jet is so different, plus, the cabin's sealed and pressurized.

Attempting restart is basically the idiot check. Is the fuel set to receive from both tanks? Is the mixture full rich, and is the throttle in? Is this due to icing on the carburetor (i.e. does turning on the carb heat make any difference)? Does turning to either the L or R mags make any difference? Did the priming pump pop out, is it locked in position? This takes about 4 seconds to check. Failing that, you declare emergency -- if you're in range of the airport you last talked to and are already on that frequency, say "mayday! mayday! mayday! Cessna 6521J over Sunol, experiencing engine failure, 2 souls on board, attempting emergency landing." Else, use frequency 121.5. Set the transponder to 7700, which will light you up on any nearby board and sound sirens and stuff. Better hope it's a real emergency at this point!

Shutting down is preparing for the landing. Cut the mixture, turn the fuel off, shut the mags off. Cessnas have electric flaps, so you leave the master electrical switch on, so that you can extend the flaps. Unlatch the doors -- this actually means OPEN the door and close the latch, so that the door can't close. You want the door to be blown off its hinges upon impact, since the frame will probably bend and keep the door from opening otherwise. Since the plane will likely be on fire, you don't want the doors keeping you from running like a madman.

Setting up the landing pattern over the field is basically so you don't get too far from it. You head downwind as you get into the 1500-1000 ft elevation range, extend as needed to lose altitude, and then turn and approach. As soon as the approach looks right (or acceptable, I guess), hit the flaps all the way full.

So we practiced all of this yesterday, simulating engine failure by reducing the power to idle. We did not actually land in any fields (how would we take off again? And the owner of the field would be pretty ticked off), but we did everything up to that point. One field we practiced over was this one in Sunol; another was somewhere in here. When we came back to Palo Alto, as I got into the traffic pattern, Kevin simulated an engine failure, and I landed on the runway with no (idle) power. And the landing itself went great!!

Even though this is a lot of material, it all makes perfect sense. In fact I wrote this whole thing from memory, except for the shutdown part (we didn't actually do the shutdown so it's not quite as burned into my brain). It is good to know that at least in theory, I'm equipped to handle at least one emergency situation. Of course, in an emergency situation, you can't think -- that's what training is for, to make it all automatic. Hopefully it will be!

As you can see in my log book, I'm up to almost 16 hours of flying time. Probably within another 5-10 hours I'll be soloing, which is exciting! Probably I'll be very nervous the first time. And the second time. But it'll be good, I'm sure I'll learn a lot without having my instructor to fall back on. Today I fly in a commercial flight to Tennessee, and the next lesson is on September 12. I can't wait!

Almost There

But not quite. Yes, I'm still trying to get my landing technique "down" -- Basically, when I stay relaxed, things go better than when I tense up. When I look at the far end of the runway like I'm supposed to, I stay more relaxed. So from there, it's just a matter of putting it all together. First I was pulling too much and too early, then too little and too late, then leveling off too high, then not staying centered, then forgetting to stop pulling once my wheels were down, resulting in a bounce...There is a lot that can go wrong.

I don't have another lesson till the 6th, so maybe this bit of off time will give me a chance to absorb things. Or maybe I'll forget everything and be back at square one.

It will give me a chance to catch up on my ground studies. I've been reading about weather. Knowing different weather patterns, being able to read weather forecasts and understanding what that means to your flying plans is incredibly important. Of course weather reports (METARs) and forecasts (TAFs) are presented in a terse, cryptic language. I've posted a link to the ADDS weather service; you can go there, click on METARs at the top, enter a bunch of airport abbreviations starting with K (for example, KSJC KSFO KORD KJFK), check the boxes for TAFs and METARs, click on raw format, and submit. There's a lot to know about predicting what the relative humidity will become based on prevailing winds, understanding cold and warm fronts and the resulting wind directions and taking advantage of those especially on longer journeys.

Also, all this landing practice has given me lots of work on my pattern work and radio work, both of which are greatly improved.

Right now I'm really just tired, and need a break from the flying and from everything else. Luckily a 3-day weekend is coming up. There's so much to study, so much to know, and as a pilot you have to be alert at all times, much moreso than driving. But I remember when I was learning to drive; it was exhausting because I felt exactly the same way. So it'll come.