Touch and Go Circuits

Hey folks!

I had another lesson today, finally. I've gotta tell you, I've never hated winter more than I do this year. That's saying a lot, because I really hate winter as it is. Turns out winter is not conducive to flying in little 125 horse powered airplanes. Who would have thunk it?

To be honest, there's not much news this time around. I practiced some more circuits today. I felt more confident today. We did touch and go circuits. A touch and go is when an airplane touches down on the runway, and takes off again without coming to a full stop. It takes some more co-ordination and focus than coming to a full stop.

The most noteworthy circuit we did was when I was coming in for a landing, my instructor got on the radio and requested a "Foxtrot" from the air traffic control. It was some kind of code I didn't understand until I was forced to find out. As I was on short final, about twenty or thirty feet from the ground, I hear the air traffic control say to me "Sierra Charlie Papa abort landing!"

I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly and thoroughly my learned instincts came through. I quickly determined in my head what needs to be done in order to abort the landing and keep the airplane flying. I pushed the throttle all the way in quickly, verified that I had a positive rate of climb, then retracted the flaps in steps, making sure that the airplane remained in a positive rate of climb. Then, when I determined the airplane was in stable flight, the last step was to contact air traffic control to tell them I followed their instruction.

There are three important steps in situations that call for immediate action: Aviate, Navigate, Communicate. That is to say, fly the airplane first, determine where you are secondly, and thirdly, communicate with whoever you need to communicate with.

I was glad that I followed these steps, and accomplished the procedures almost instinctively. It seemed like I was instantly locked into what I had to do, nothing else mattered at the time.

Ok, up next is yet another check-ride type lesson, where I'll fly circuits with another instructor. If he feels I performed satisfactory, he'll sign off on a solo flight, and the lesson after that should include my first solo. :)

See you soon.

Student Pilot Licence & Sweating the Small Stuff

Hello!
Welcome back to the blog. I've got some good news and some bad news to discuss today. I suppose we might as well begin with the good news. When I got to the airport today, I was greeted by my instructor. He told me that before we go up today, we'll file all the papers and get my Student Pilot Licence. The Chief flight instructor for Toronto Airways, so he put my documents in order, signed the documents he had to, handed over the little slip of paper, and shook my hand to congratulate me. He said "congratulations on your first step. And remember, no flying with other passengers."

And so there you have it, I have my first license to fly. This Student Pilot Licence allows me to fly on my own, without an instructor, in daylight, without any passengers.

So that's the good news. The not as good news is that I still didn't feel comfortable flying circuits today, and flying on my own was the furthest thing from my mind today. As stated in the prior post, I haven't flown in about a month before a couple of lessons ago, and I seem to have lost some of my "groove". The feel isn't there. I felt like I was "behind" the airplane.

Today was a bit of a windy day - perfect for practicing cross-wind landings. Today was also a bit bumpy, and having not flown in a while, the turbulence took me a bit by surprise, but I got used to it quickly. Cross-wind landings are a skill that requires a lot of practice, it seems. One can land an airplane in a cross-wind landing - when not using the exact proper techniques - somewhat unharmed, but to execute the exact techniques, seems like it takes a lot of practice. I don't feel I quite got the hang of it today, but I will eventually.

After landing from performing one of the circuits today, Eric (my instructor) said to me "don't sweat the small stuff, Lavi. Everyone makes mistakes when they fly. It's just a matter of realizing you've made a mistake, and moving on to correct it, and you'll be fine. Don't dwell on your mistakes because that makes you focus on the wrong things. Move on from your mistakes."

It's probably the best advice he's given me to date. It also struck a chord with me, and something I'd like to discuss further on this blog.

I'll be frank with you. If someone were to ask me if I'm a perfectionist, I'd hesitate, and after thinking about my actions, and my personality, I would respond with a "Yes". I tend to be a perfectionist. It bothers me when I do something wrong. The little things too. It bothers me when I forget to check something in a checklist, it even bothers me when I make spelling mistakes and the little red line pops up to tell me that I've made a mistake. Being a perfectionist coupled with being somewhat of an eternal pessimist (who's on a constant struggle to consciously be optimistic) Is not a good recipe for pilots, I believe. There are bumps in the road, mistakes will be made, but if I allow these traits of my personality take over, I will stop myself from achieving my own goals.

I say this, because I speak from experience. The personality traits I listed above have held me back from things I think I could have achieved, historically. Things like not trying out for the high-school basketball team, thinking "what's the point? I won't make the cut", to ceasing to write songs. I used to write songs. When I did, I would compare my work to bands I was listening to, like The Beatles. Well what do you know, my work lacked in comparison to The Beatles. I focused too much on my imperfections, until I had no desire to write anymore, because "What's the point? My stuff will never be as good as theirs".

I realize these are big confessions I'm divulging here, and I'm putting myself out there for all two of you, but I have to be true to myself. It helps writing it down too. It helps me remember to work hard to get over these flaws.

Yes, my landings weren't as smooth today. Yes, I didn't break up my radio communications the way I was supposed to at the beginning. Yes, I didn't feel like I "got ahead" today. But I have to concentrate on the other end of things. I have 18 hours in the air. That's all. By all accounts, I'm somewhat ahead of other people with that many hours. I probably wasn't feeling it today because I haven't flown in a while, and the winds were strong. I just got my Student Pilot Licence. As soon as my flight instructor deems me worthy, I'm flying an airplane by myself. A dream come true. Hell, I have the balls to work towards my dream. I'll be OK.

"What doesn't kill you, will only make your stronger, or at the very worse, heavily injure you". Is that how that saying goes? I think so.

Also, don't call me Frank, or Shirley for that matter.

Winter Time

Hello friends,
Please forgive me for not posting in a while. The main reason for that being that I have only managed to fly once over the last month or so. It's been frustrating, but also a learning experience, I suppose.

Apparently 125 horsepower engines don't like starting up in -15C temperatures. One day last week that was a relatively clear day, I went to the airport with every intention of flying. I did my walk around, check the airplane, etc. I should include here that in winter time, in freezing temperatures, a pre-heater machine has to be used on the airplane's engine before it can be started up. A pre-heater is basically a big blow-dryer with two big hoses that you insert into openings located on the front of the airplane. It should be left on for around twenty minutes. The maine problem with this being that the pre-heater has to be minded at all times of operation. I suppose the reason being for that is fir hazard. Anyway, at below freezing temperatures, it's not a fun experience standing there, waiting for the engine to warm up.

Getting back to my story, after the pre-heater was working for about 20 minutes we finally got into the cockpit, and tried to turn the engine on. Over and over again, the propeller wouldn't catch. We tried for about ten minutes, and called it a day.

Yes, winter flying in these old airplanes can be frustrating. The only time I did get to fly in the last month was this Saturday. We got up and did some circuits. Unfortunately, I felt like everything was new to me. I felt like things were being thrown my way fast, and I had trouble staying on top of things. I liken it most to playing an instrument. It's kind of like when you put your musical instrument down for a prolonged period of time, and then pick it up again. One can still play the instrument fine, but the feel is off, you're worrying more about moving your fingers to the right notes than actually feeling the music, and being "in the groove". Same with flying. I haven't flown in about a month, and my feel was off. Trouble being, when You're paying about $200/hr for lessons, every second counts, and regressing proved to be a frustrating feeling.

It came at an unfortunate time as well. I was relatively close to doing my solo. Right now, I feel further from being able to do my first solo than I did a month ago, when I was flying regularly. Fear not though, I will get there.

I suppose that with the nature of flying, updating this blog will not tell of a positive experience. I suppose the best thing I can do here is be honest to myself and the two readers of this blog. So yes, it's been frustrating, it's been slow, it's been cold. Having said that, every time I get to fly is still a wonder for me, and I won't let anything get in the way of reaching my goals right now.

Keep warm and safe. Thanks for reading.

The weather, and pictures!

The airplane I fly in (Cessna 150), and the type of flying I do (VFR) can be considered relatively dependent on all sorts of conditions. Mainly, the weather. Any combination of precipitation, temperature, cloud coverage, low visibility, winds, and certain types of turbulence, can render the aircraft grounded, and the pilot unable to fly.

That's what has happened over the last couple of weeks. The Canadian fall and winter has left it's mark on my attempts to fly. Thus, I have not found the will to update this blog, but I figured it was time to update it anyway. With something, for someone, anyone. You, myself, them.

I do have another lesson scheduled for Sunday. Hopefully the weather will cooperate. My instructor told me that one winter he had lessons booked every day, but do to the weather conditions, he wasn't able to fly for a month straight. I hope this doesn't happen in my case. I'm dying to get back in there.

Regardless, about a month ago I went to Varadero, Cuba for a vacation. During the entirety of the flight there and back, I was glued to the window, taking all the beauty in that comes with being about 36,000 feet in the air. I did manage to take some pictures and a video, which I thought I'd share with you here. I took pictures of things I found interesting. Though, they might not be interesting to you. But here it goes anyway.

The first couple of pictures are of the left wing overlooking the landscape. I like the pictures, but when I tried to edit colours and levels in 'Preview' on my mac, it saved them with those weird vertical lines. Try to ignore them.


The next shots are a few landscape shots I found interesting.


There are indeed many airports to spot from so high up, if one is on the lookout for them. I took this next shot upon landing in Toronto (CYYZ). Upon touchdown, and sometimes in the air, those wing flaps you see are actually called spoilers. They are used to slow down the airplane in the air and on the ground. Airliners will try to use the least amount of wheel-breaks as possible upon landing because the amount of energy involved in slowing down such a big airplane produces an immense amount of heat. If the breaks overheat, the airplane sometimes has to be inspected by engineers before it goes up again. As well, an airliner's breaks are immensely expensive to maintain and replace. Therefor, pilots of these airplanes use spoilers, other types of air-breaks, as well as reverse-thrust on the engines to help slow the airplane down.

In this picture, you can see what a marvel the modern wing really is. It opens up and exposes its innards. A mechanical wonder.


Lastly, here's a video I shot during take-off from Varadero Airport (VRA). I stopped filming just before it got interesting, showing Cuba's beautiful landscape. The memory card was full, so I had to stop filming. Anyway, enjoy what you can.

Circuits Pt. II & The Art of Landing

Image taken from: http://cessnawarbirds.files.wordpress.com

Well, I started out down a dirty road
Started out all alone
And the sun went down as I crossed the hill
And the town lit up, the world got still

I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing
Well, the good ol' days may not return
And the rocks might melt and the sea may burn

I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well, some say life will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I've started out for God knows where
I guess I'll know when I get there

I'm learning to fly around the clouds
But what goes up must come down

I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing
I'm learning to fly around the clouds
But what goes up must come down
Songwriters: Petty, Tom; Lynne, Jeff;

"Coming down is the hardest thing." - That's how I feel this morning. Fear not though. While I'm not sure exactly what Tom Petty had in mind (or in his brain) when he wrote this song - I certainly had some wings this morning.

We worked on some more circuits today. Today felt like a bit of a frustrating lesson. Out of the six or so landings I performed, I think about two or three were as smooth as I would have liked. The others, I was disappointing with. My instructor said that all of my landings are safe, but they're not as smooth as they should be.

By the end of the lesson, the last circuit or so, I think I figured out the problem(s). I think what happens is that I start the flare (pulling up on the control column to raise the nose, which in turn slows the airplane down and gently slides the airplane on the runway, if done right) too soon, too high up. The ground seemed to be coming up too fast, so I pull up too soon. The last time around, on my last landing attempt, I made a concerted effort to let the plane get closer to the ground before I pull up, and it worked better.

I also tended to come in a bit fast, speed-wise. I need to try and keep the airspeed steady at 60Knots on final and decreasing on flare. Anyway, I'll get it right, I have no doubt. Today was just a little frustrating in that way. After every bumpy landing I felt like I let myself and Eric down. He's good though. Very patient and supportive, a good teacher.

Apart from that, I do everything else involved in the circuit pretty well. The first time around today, I had to re-familiarize myself with all of the procedures in the circuit, which I covered a bit in this post. But after that I got a good handle on everything. My radio communications are getting more solid. I'm actually starting to sound like a pilot. It sounds pretty cool... at least to me.

Coming up in the next couple of lessons are more circuits - circuits with engine failure, circuits with cross-landings, and that's about it. After that, as Eric the instructor said to me today "you'll be doing all that stuff without my fat ass in the airplane." I responded to him with a forced smile and a nod.

I'm both very excited and very anxious for my first solo. As well I should be. Every pilot I've spoken to say that I'll never forget my first solo. I'm up to about 16.1 hours of flight time now. I'll be doing my first solo within the next few hours. Eric says that it normally takes pilots-in-training around thirty hours before they fly solo. I'll be doing mine well before that number, it seems. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I trust Eric's judgement, as well as my own resolve.

One thing I need to mention is something about the reality of flying. Today, as I woke up to CBC Radio 1 News, half asleep, I heard the news that a small four-seater Seneca airplane crashed in a field around Pickering, killing all three people aboard. Pickering is near our practice-area, and Seneca flies out of Buttonville, so I connected the dots. That airplane resided in Buttonville, as did those people in that ill-fated airplane. In the airplane was an instructor and two students. They were all young people. The cause is not yet clear. The case is being investigated.

I've gotta tell you though, that wasn't a pleasant thing for anyone to hear while waking up. It made it a bit harder for me to wake up and go flying this morning. As I spoke with one of the instructors at the dispatch desk, the one thing he said to me that sums it all up: "It's just the nature of the industry".

My thoughts go out to the families and friends of the people who died. May they rest in peace.

------

I'll quickly take this opportunity to remind you that it's still the glorious month of Movebmer. My mustache is making great strides. I'm so proud of it, it's grown so fast. I remember when it was just a stubbly mess. Today the full-fledged rat on my face garners me a whole lot of unwanted attention. I'm doing it all to raise awareness and money towards research for prostate cancer. Please donate as little or as much as you can, your money will in no doubt save lives in the future. You can donate HERE.

Thank you.

Movember

Well hello there!

Welcome back for another installment of Adventures Aloft. Admittedly, I have not flown this week yet. This blog is about a whole different kind of adventure. It's about growing a mustache!

Now, under normal circumstances, no decent, self-respecting man with healthy mind would consider polluting his face with a dirty mustache.

But tough times call for timely measures (is that how it goes?). The mustache you see above has been growing on my face since the first of November. It's for a great cause - to raise awareness and money for prostate cancer research.

You may be asking yourself "self, what does a mustache have to do with prostate cancer?". Well... it has nothing to do with prostate cancer, really. But, according to one website, the little chia-pets being grown on mens' faces around the world during the month of November is actually their ribbon (similar to the pink breast cancer ribbons).

The story goes something like this: a long long time ago, in a land far far away. A few good men got together for some tea, when during conversation, they decided to support prostate cancer. They brainstormed for ideas of how to show their support and raise awareness for prostate cancer, when one of the geniuses fathomed it would be a good idea to wear a ribbon on their upper lip.

So, the first year of the Movember initiative, the men pinned a brown ribbon to their faces. Turns out that was an awful idea. Not only did the men garner pierced upper lips, but they looked like idiots, and in turn, they were directly responsible for the crash of the world economy a couple of years back.

They eventually decided to grow mustaches to replace the ribbons on their faces. Now, growing mustaches didn't rid them of their idiotic look, but it also didn't cause any harm to the economy.

A few years later, we seem to have a global movement afoot. And I'm glad to be a part of it. I've been personally touched by prostate cancer (thankfully not on my prostate, but a close family member is fighting what looks to be a losing battle). One in six men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer in their lifetime. This is a big problem that deserves a lot of attention, and that's why I'm doing my part.

I'm not here to nag you about how you should do your part and donate and/or raise awareness for this cause, I'm just here to nag you about how you should do your part and donate and/or raise awareness for this cause.

I'm not exactly sure who and why visits this blog. But I have looked at this blog's statistics, and it looks like this blog has garnered a good amount of traffic since its inception. People have visited this blog from as far away as Japan, so it would be pretty cool if we could come together for this good cause.

Thank you, please go HERE if you wish to donate.
If you wish to read more about Movember, please click HERE.
Up for a little bit of a humorous take on Movember? Click HERE.

Thank you!

Circuits

That was fantastic!

Today's lesson focused on circuits. No, not the electrical type. While having knowledge of electricity is an advantage for pilots, a circuit (or airfield traffic pattern) is a flight path used in airports that standardize approaches and the movement and flow of traffic for each runway in an airport. A circuit looks something like this:
Circuits are used to maintain a natural order to airport traffic, giving pilots that are entering a circuit educated guesses about where other traffic might be coming from. If you're interested in reading more about circuits, you can find more information here.

The nice thing about practicing circuits, is that you're constantly practicing takeoffs and landings. And even more than that, today felt like all of the skills I have learned in my previous lessons were put to use while practicing circuits. A lot goes on when you're doing a circuit. Each circuit preformed takes around six minutes. I'll take you through it quickly:

- take off
- climb to 500'
- while climbing, perform post take-off checklist
- at 500', turn to the crosswind leg.
- climb to circuit altitude (1000 feet above ground level)
- turn to base leg, level off at circuit altitude
- perform pre-landing checklist
- inform ATC that you are turning on base-leg
- look out for traffic while turning base-leg. ATC may inform that you are in line (after other traffic to land)
- also while turning base-leg, reduce engine power to 1700RPM
- configure airplane for landing. Flaps to 20 degrees, 65knots airspeed
- turn to final leg, continue approach, cut engine to idle, listen for a landing clearance from ATC
- Extend flaps to 40 degrees, 60knots airspeed

Don't worry if you didn't understand some of the terminology there. I just laid it out to show the steps that have to be taken in a matter of five or six minutes. As you can imagine, it is a pretty intense exercise. As well, with Buttonville airport being as busy as it is, there is no such thing as a "perfect circuit". Circumstances (such as traffic, crosswinds, landing clearences, etc.) will dictate adjustments that have to be made with little or no delay. For instance, in one of the circuits we did, I was on the final leg, about 15 feet above the ground, over the runway. Because there was traffic on the runway (which seemed like somewhat of a botch-up by the ATC), we never got the landing clearance. We had to glide the airplane along the runway, about 10 feet from the ground. An airplane is not allowed to touch down unless it gets landing clearance from ATC. Because the landing clearance never came, we had to preform a missed approach. Full throttle, climb back up, and do another circuit.

It was all on the fly (pun intended). It may seem like a lot to handle, but that's why the instructor is there with me. To make sure I perform the things that need to be done.

All in all, my instructor said I did well. He said that I've demonstrated I can fly the circuits successfully, and land the plane safely. The only thing I have to work on, is after touchdown, to keep the nose-wheel up in the air as long as possible. Doing that helps a lot of things. It's less wear and tear on the nose-wheel, it makes for a smoother landing, it conserves the breaks, etc.

The next few lessons are going to be mainly circuit practice under different conditions. Such conditions will include crosswind landings, runway change mid-circuit, and engine failure mid-circuit.

My instructor has already started the "paperwork" for my solo flight. He said that it shouldn't take me too long before I am capable of flying an airplane being the only soul on the plane. Man, that will be an accomplishment I could only have dreamed of only a few months ago. I can't wait. Things are good in the neighborhood.

¡Hola!

So, you thought I'd come back from Cuba without an aviation story? Well, think again.

Our flight to Cuba was scheduled to leave at 6:30am on Monday morning. This meant a 3:30am wake up call. Waking up at 3:30am feels very wrong to me. I'm much more used to going to sleep at 3:30am than waking up at that time. Amy and I must have gotten a total of about two hours sleep that night.

We made our way to the airport and eventually onto the Boing 737-800. We greeted the flight attendants at the door and made our way to our seats. I was quite tired at the time but I was feeling the rush of being on an airplane that is about 100 times bigger than the airplane I fly. Thankfully we managed to get a window seat, so I got to see the whole first flight during daytime throughout the window. If you ask my Amy, she'd probably tell you that I was glued to the window the whole flight, but I did manage to get about an hour of shuteye.

Anyway, before take-off one of the flight attendants came around to check of our seat belts are on, and Amy being who she is, took the first chance to tell the flight attendant that I celebrated my birthday the day before, and that I'm also an aspiring pilot taking flying lessons, and that if anything could be done for me to see the flight deck of the airplane, maybe talk to the pilots for a minute, that would be great. I didn't expect her to ask that. My mind was still blank from waking up at 3:30am. I didn't have any questions for the pilots lined up in case I did get a chance to meet them, but I figured the questions would come to mind pretty quickly. The flight attendant said that he'll see what he can do.

Later on in the flight, Amy (who's hilarious and mildly offensive blog you can find here), while in line for the washroom, spoke with the flight attendant again to make sure the flight attendant was still on the case. He asked her what my name was, and admitted to her that the head flight attendant was not as... diplomatic as she could be, and that if anything happens, it would have to be after landing. Amy came back to her seat and told me this, and we both kind of gave up on the idea and mostly forgot about it.

Around the time we began to descend, the flight attendant Amy had spoken to came to our seat and wished me a happy birthday and an enjoyable vacation. When he was on his way, Amy whispered to me: "that was a 'no'".

The airplane finally landed in Cuba. I was very enchanted by seeing Cuba from the air, and was excited to begin our vacation. The lead flight attendant then comes on the intercom to conclude the flight. Give or take a few words, here's how it went down:

Lead Flight Attendant - "Dear passengers, we have landed in Cuba. We wanted to take this opportunity to thank you for flying with Sunwing. We hope you enjoy your vacation and your stay in Cuba. We also wanted to take this opportunity to congratulate a special passenger we have with us today. At seat 11F, Lavi celebrated his birthday yesterday, AND got his pilot license. Congratulations Lavi!"

All passengers - *clap, clap, clap, clap. Look, gawk, clap clap clap*

Yes...
One of the most embarrassing experiences of my life. A plane full of people clapping for me, based on faulty information. A classic case of broken telephone? We'll never know.

For the next hour I had people coming up to me from the plane and asking me about my pilot license. I had to tell them that it was a big misunderstanding. At least I could tell them that I was taking flying lessons. I got to meet some pretty interesting people because of it though. It was a good start to the vacation.

I also took some pictures and a video of the takeoff from Varadero Airport in Cuba. I'll post it in a couple of days when I get access to it. Meanwhile, tomorrow I have another lesson. Circuits! Should be a fun one. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

The Check Ride

Hey there, how are you? I know we just spoke yesterday, but I had my check ride today so I thought I'd quickly update you, and myself.

So here we go, the flight was scheduled for 9:00am, weather conditions were less than favourable with cloudy skies, precipitation to the north and east (which is where the practice areas are), and winds gusting to 22 Knots (about 50 Km/H).

We went up anyway. As stated in previous postings, I was accompanied by a different instructor this time around. Check flights are done to have another set of eyes evaluate my progress, and also evaluate my instructor's progress. Having said that, I think that it's a relatively informal process. Today's instructor didn't go too hard on me. Though, taking into account the bad turbulence, poor visibility at times, and having a new instructor, I felt that I didn't perform as good as I usually do. Our radio quality was poor and I found myself having to ask him to repeat instructions.

If you think you've experienced bad turbulence during a flight on an airliner, then flying in turbulent weather in a small Cessna is a whole different story. The effects of the turbulence can cause the airplane to yaw, roll, descend, and ascend, all without control inputs from the pilot. There were times today where I felt like the airplane just did it's own thing for about a half a second.

We also experienced precipitation during the flight, which reduced visibility, and generally just made me a bit nervous. For no good reason though. Cessnas are built to take this kind of weather. It's just a matter of me getting used to the effects the weather has on the airplane.

I tried to search Youtube for a video that would show the kind of turbulence I experienced today, but I could only find this video below, which does show some turbulence as well as percipitation, but not as heavy as I experienced today. Take a look if you wish:


Due to the limitations that the weather conditions imposed on us, the instructor only told me to perform a limited amount of exercises. We only did some side slips, and one spiral. If weather conditions would be better, he would get me to do stalls, slow flight, steep turns, etc.

All in all it was important for me to have another instructor for a lesson. Some of the details within procedures are preformed differently, some of the explanations differ from instructor to instructor, and I also got some useful tips.

I'll also mention that I passed my Radio exam. Not sure of the mark because it just says "passed". So that's a good thing. From a bookkeeping point of view I will be authorized to fly solo when my instructor and an evaluator deems me worthy. In the meantime though, I'm going to Cuba! for a week. That's right, I believe that the official name of Cuba should end with an exclamation mark. Cuba!

So no flying for me this week. Oh wait, I guess getting to Cuba! involves me flying there. But I'll be a passenger this time. It will be my first time getting in an airliner since I started my flight training. It will be interesting to see and guess all of the procedures as they are happening.

So that's about it. Other than that, I'll check in with you after next week.

Cuba!

Crummy

Ok, time for another blog post, even though I haven't had the check flight yet this week. I was supposed to have it Tuesday morning, but that was cancelled due to crummy October weather. I re-booked the flight for today, but it was cancelled yet again due to crummy October weather. I told the story twice because I enjoy using the word 'crummy'. There, I did it again. Crummy.

I'm going to try to cover a couple of points in this blog. I wanted to tell you that I took both the Radio Certificate exam, and the PSTAR (Student Pilot License) exam this week.

I was told that the Radio Certificate exam would be a relatively easy one for me. I think I fell for it. It was harder than I thought. I haven't gotten the results back yet, but I hope I passed. 70% is a passing mark for that exam. I hope common sense prevailed in my answers and that I passed.

As stated above, I also took the PSTAR exam today. It's a 50 multiple choice question exam. The questions are drawn out of a pool of about 200 questions that are given to the student to study. One needs a 90% mark to pass this exam, which is no more than five wrong answers in order to pass. Since the Radio exam caught me by surprise, you can be sure I studied hard for this exam. I ended up getting 100% on it. Fantabulous.

I also wanted to discuss a bit of a wishy-washy subject - the reactions I receive when I tell people that I'm taking flying lessons. As you can imagine, the reactions vary widely. I never know quite what to expect when I tell people that I'm studying to become a pilot - be it old friends, current friends, random people I stop on the streets at night. This fact makes it a wildly entertaining activity. I've gotten anything from "why the hell would you want to do that?" to "I'm jealous of you" to "are you still doing back flips in the air?" - the latter coming from my dear mom.

The responses I enjoy most are the people who come back at me with questions that stem from their own interest in aviation. If you're an aviation enthusiast at any level, chances are that you'll have looked into aviation, read up about it, gone to air shows, looked up to the heavens when you hear a jetliner roar by, gone to the gas station just to sniff the fumes (?). It's something that people gravitate towards naturally if they have an interest in it. The funny thing is that the questions I get from these people, I usually can't answer definitively, since they usually have to do with commercial aviation, airline procedures, etc. I'm not at that level yet, and one day I hope to be. But because my interest is geared towards this subject, I have read a lot about all kinds of aviation, and I do love talking aviation to people who share the same interests.

I don't want to sound vain, but there are also those who look at me as a person who is doing something extraordinary when I tell them that I'm taking flight lessons. Although I agree that aviation is weird and different world, I maintain that I don't look at what I'm doing as an extraordinary thing. Quite the opposite. I'm taking flight lessons because I felt I had to. I was spending hours a day reading up on aviation. It started to eat me up inside, I needed to experience. It was quite blatant and natural for me. Something I had to do. There are hours upon hours of monologues regarding aviation that my girlfriend had to hear, and will never get back.

About 95% of the people I talk to know someone who is a pilot. It's a reoccurring theme in my conversations. Everyone knows someone who flies a plane. And if you don't? Well then, I'm happy to be that person in your life. But if you're going to look at me in high regard, do it because I'm working on fulfilling a life long dream. Not because I'm learning how to fly. I believe that almost anyone can learn how to fly. Chasing a dream, however, is harder.

Every time I go for a lesson, I feel fortunate to be able to do it. With all the constraints one has to deal with - money, time, weather, etc., I consider myself lucky to be able to chase this dream. It's given some new meaning to my life and blah blah blah.

I just realized this post isn't going anywhere. I said what I have to say. I hope that mild enjoyment was experienced by the reader. I have a lesson booked for tomorrow morning. Hopefully the crummy October crummy weather crummy doesn't intervene.

Spiral Dives, Side-slip Slides, and Tongue-twisters

Hey thanks for coming back for more of my scribblings. This morning brought another flying lesson with it.

This lesson included spiral dives and an air exercise called 'Slipping'. Spiral Dives can happen in a few different ways, but most of these ways occur because the pilot wasn't paying attention or because the pilot became momentarily disoriented, which can occur when a pilot who's untrained in flying into clouds, flies into a cloud.

Spiral dives aren't as scary looking as spins, but can be more dangerous due to the nose down attitude of the airplane, and rapidly increasing air-speeds. If one isn't careful in gently pulling out of a spiral, or doesn't recognize when a spiral is happening, the airframe of the airplane can become stressed to the point of critical damage due to the high airspeeds and add G forces. You can read more about spiral dives here if you wish. Spiral dives were a fun exercise for me to practice, even though it was probably the most dangerous exercise to attempt.

When it comes to 'slipping', there are a few different types. Slipping is a maneuver in which the pilot uses cross controls (left rudder pedal and right aileron input, or vice versa) in order to accomplish either a fast loss of altitude without threat of damage to the airframe, a turn while needing to lose altitude quickly, or as a technique for landing with a crosswind ( a wind that is not directly aligned with the runway, but is instead approaching the airplane from either side). You can read more about side slips and forward slips here.

It's a good thing we practiced the latter, because during today's approach and landing I did encounter some cross-wind, and I did have to perform a side-slip landing. A side-slip landing looks something like this, except the guy in this video did a heck of a job landing the airplane. My landing was a bit rougher but I was still pretty happy with it, taking into account it was my first slide-slip try, and I was quite surprised by the amount of input you have to apply on the controls. Take a look at the movement of the flight stick in this video:



It really is a fun way to land, but you do have to be on top of your game, as the wind direction and strength change, so do your flight control inputs. As well, during a slide-slip landing, the landing is preformed with only one of the wheels touching down first due to the configuration of the side-slip.

My apologies if this is getting too technical for some. I only speak this way because I don't have much else to talk about. Though there was a couple of other things that are worth mentioning.

I was assigned an airplane this morning with the callsign FFHH (that's Foxtrot Foxtrot Hotel Hotel), quite the tongue twister for a beginner pilot such as myself. I did the walk around checklist, made sure everything is fine, we got in the airplane, turned the engine on, and a weird sound was audible. I mentioned it to my instructor, and he instructed me to turn off the engine as he took a look outside. He came back and said that we're not going to fly that airplane today. He proceeded to show me what was wrong - two pieces of metal that looked like they were harnessing the prop, or maybe just covering it, were lose. I saw two screws missing. and the parts were lose. It was probably nothing, but it was creating the sound we heard, and since we were going to practice some extreme flying, it was probably best to have the engineers take a look at the airplane.

So we got another airplane with the call-sign Echo Yankee Whiskey. I was glad we got another airplane, only because I wouldn't have to repeat Foxtrot Foxtrot Hotel Hotel on the radios again. Whew.

What's up next? Well, I have a check-ride next lesson. That's when another instructor takes me up, and monitors my progress on everything I've learned up to now. It's not a test, more of a progress report. I'm looking forward to hearing someone else's point of view on how I'm progressing.

It's also crunch time for me to take my radio license test and my PSTAR test, as my solo flight is coming up. Yes, my solo flight. I'm 12.5 hours in, and my instructor is talking to me about flying solo. Should be fun times coming up, I'll keep you posted.

Brrrrrrr, & I did it!

I did it! Another milestone accomplished. Today I practiced spins.

The day started off with a 5:45am wake-up call, for a lesson start time of 7:00am. However, it's not the way things turned out. I got to the airport at 6:45am. It was still dark outside. I had to wait until sunrise in order to be able to fly legally. Not only that, but temperatures hit zero degrees overnight last night, and that means frost - or in aviation terms - icing.

Icing on an airplane. Image taken from Wikipedia

Icing can occur on any part of the surface of the airplane including the wings, dashboard, and even inside the engine during certain atmospheric conditions. In Canada this usually happens in the winter during freezing conditions. Icing can look like - and sometimes is - frost. There are other types of icing that are an actual accumulation of ice on the wings and body of the airplane. What I experienced this morning was frost. It was about 1/4 inch of frost. If we were to try to take off with that amount of frost on the airplane's surfaces, there's a good chance we would stall on takeoff, and, well, crash. Flying with icing is a big no no as the airplanes we fly are not certified for icing conditions. You can read more about icing here.

How do we get rid of icing? Usually a deicing liquid is sprayed on the whole airplane. It is a sticky orange liquid that removes ice, and also prevents ice from accumulating on the airplane surfaces during flight. You might have experienced a deicing on airliners in flights from Toronto (or any other cold place) during the winter. The airliners have to deice as close to takeoff as possible, and the captain would usually announce this.

Spraying deicing fluid on an airliner. Image taken from Wikipedia

However, since it is still October, the airport flight-line services didn't have their de-icing equipment ready. Eric the instructor and I had to resort to removing frost with a credit card (as scrapers aren't allowed). Then wiping down the water with paper towels. The sun that eventually came up helped melt the frost as well. This took up the best part of an hour.

So, after waiting for the sun to come up, and manually deicing the plane, we were finally up in the air at around 9:00am. I climbed the airplane to 5,000 feet, when Eric told me to perform the checklist for spins.

I've tried to get myself mentally ready for spins for the past few days, but it's hard to convince oneself of the idea of purposefully creating conditions where you're piloting an airplane that's spiraling towards the earth.

Eric performed the first spin. As I wrote in my last post, Eric showed me a couple of spins the last lesson. So at least I was ready for what was going to happen. During the spin that he preformed, I noticed myself paying attention to the way he moved the flight controls, knowing I would have to preform the next spin.

The demo spin came and went. We lost about 600 feet in a matter of seconds. We straightened out as I heard Eric say "Ok, are you ready?" to which I responded "I don't know, am I?" to which Eric responded "Yes."

I took control of the airplane, breathed in deeply, and went for it. I proceeded to first stall the airplane (a requirement in order to enter a spin). Once the stall horn came on, I pushed the rudder pedal all the way to the left, and bam, we're upside down hurling towards the earth, kaleidoscope windshield and all.

I'll pause here to mention that for some reason, my spins we're quicker and more intense than the ones my instructor preformed. By that, I mean that the corkscrewing actions - or spins - were tighter and the rotation got tighter more quickly.

I learned that when you preform a spin, there is a point at which you feel that there is no way you're getting out of this situation - an airplane that is spiraling towards the earth, in which you feel like you have no control over. However, I proceeded to push on the right rudder pedal all the way, and the rotations slowly stopped and the airplane eventually leveled off. It was intense. I did it. It's one of the things I considered a milestone on the road to becoming a pilot. I never got into flying to do this type of thing, but it's a reality - something you have to go through in Canada if you want to become a pilot. I did it, and it was intense and amazing and all of the other words people use to describe something so fulfilling to the soul.

We proceeded to climb back up to 5,000 feet and do another spin.

As I stated above, I considered spins as a milestone for myself. I'm not sure every student pilot does. I think I considered it a milestone because I was somewhat fearful of it. It's that point at which a lot of people decide to not continue their lessons. But knowing that spins are the absolute worst thing that can happen to a pilot (when it's inadvertent), it feels great to know that I now know how to get out of one. And I can't wait for my next lesson.

On a personal note (as if, this whole blogging exercise is nothing but a self-bloating externally propelled internal fart), it's days like these that make me so thankful that I chose to take on learning how to fly. Where last year I felt that I was stuck in certain areas of life, lessons like this make me feel that I'm progressing, liberated, chasing something I want so badly. I have people around me to thank, as I'm not sure I would have had the courage to undertake flying without continued support from my family, girlfriend, and friends.

As for the blog? I hope that it's entertaining for you, at the very least. I started writing it mostly because I know that I will want to remember all of these experiences in detail. I could have written a diary, but that's so Anne Frank. I realize that I get overly emotional on this blog sometimes, but that's just the adrenaline talking. I hope I don't get too personal on this blog for you as to make it awkward. I'm just trying to convey my experiences onto cyber-paper. As always, thank you for reading and for your continued support. ;)

Stalls, Spins, and Animal Cruelty

Saturday afternoon brought another flying lesson. The lessons are starting to become a little bit hard to define, as I am starting to review and practice all kinds of air exercises that I have already been introduced to. However, there's always more new things to learn, and boy did I learn on Saturday.

This lesson comprised mostly of different types of advanced stalls. Yes, an airplane can stall in more ways than I ever had nightmares of. Some of the stalls are power-off (idle engine) stalls, power-on (engine at about cruise power) stalls, turning stalls, etc. We practiced those three stalls in particular, but there are numerous more stalls that can occur.

However, the most notable thing for me this lesson was that I got to experience a spin. Two, in fact. A spin can be defined as an aggravated stall, or a stall in which the airplane is not "coordinated". This results in something called an auto-rotation, which is basically the airplane spinning. Here is what Wikipedia has to say about spins.

And here are some of the best examples of spins that I found on Youtube. The first being a video of a spin filmed from another airplane:


The second is a spin experienced from inside the cockpit:

And the third is animal cruelty, plane and simple:


Yes, what you saw above was a floating dog due to zero gravity derived from the nose-dive spin. I won't comment much about that except to say that spin checklists implicitly state that everything must be tied down and secure when practicing a spin.

I will describe experiencing spins as a very humbling experience. The forces I felt on my body and the things I saw with my eyes felt very unnatural as far as being a land mammal. Before I go on, please be aware that practicing spins is considered to be a safe exercise in the Cessna 150. Nonetheless, it does take some getting used to. In this lesson, my instructor just showed me what a spin is like. I was told to sit back and enjoy. So I didn't get myself into any actual spins, but next lesson I will have to.

As you saw in the video, one has to raise the nose of the airplane until it stalls. In order to aggravate the stall, one of the rudder pedals is pushed all the way in in either direction, so that the airplane will enter the spin.

Entering the spin was probably the strangest feeling I've felt. It feels like you're flipping backwards, with your stomach going into your throat, and before you know it, you're in a nose dive, while the colours of the autumn leaves of the Canadian landscape start to create a kaleidoscope effect on the windshield once the airplane begins to corkscrew its way towards the earth.

Sounds dramatic? Well, it was for me. It's not an experience many people think they'd go through in their lifetime, but I asked for it. Not only did I ask for it, but I have to get used to spins, as next lesson I will have to practice them myself.

Have you ever stood on a balcony while it occurred to you that if you had a tiny lapse of reason, you can just jump over the balcony without having the chance to correct your mistake? Me neither, but it did occur to my friend once... Anyway, I compare practicing spins to jumping off the balcony, except getting the chance to apply corrective actions in order to stop yourself from plummeting to the ground. As such, you can now probably understand why doing spins in an airplane would invoke such strong feelings.

My instructor said that this lesson is the point at which some of his students never return for another lesson. Although I'll admit that it was a bit of a frightening experience, I'm determined to go back for more. The way for me to look at it is that it is a safe exercise that's practiced by many pilots each day. You don't hear of very many crashes involving accidents due to students practicing spins. So there. In fact, after my instructor demonstrated the first spin, I asked him to show me another one, since I knew I'd have to get used to it sooner or later.

In other news, we practiced more stalls, steep turns, which i accomplished satisfactorily this time around, and we also practiced a maneuver called a "side-slip", which I will be covered in an upcoming lesson, as well as an upcoming post. I also managed to have quite a violent landing this time. Although it really didn't seem all that big of a deal after experiencing spins. Landing definitely seems like a delicate art which I will have to master. I'll probably have an easier time once I actually go through the lesson about landing.

Anyway, there's more stories to tell from the last lesson, but this post is getting long, and I need to get back to work. But stay tuned for my next post, as I tell tales of my adventures aloft.

Flying keeps me grounded

Another week, another lesson learned. This week, I was supposed to learn how to enter, recognize, and get out of 'slow flight'. However, we ended up doing two lessons in one this week. The other lessons was stalls.

I'll start out with trying to explain some characteristics of slow flight. Slow flight generally exists right after an airplane takes off, and right before it lands. It's defined as the airspeed below the endurance speed, but above the stall speed. Some of the characteristics of slow flight include slow airspeed, high RPMs (engine output rate), and sluggish performance of the flight controls. For those of you who are interested in the details, you can read more about slow flight here.

I found that flying an airplane in slow flight feels like a whole new way of flying. As stated above, the flight controls act sluggish and different. It's useful to practice slow flight in case a pilot finds themselves in a situation where they mistakenly enter slow flight, they'll then know how to safely exit out of it.

I haven't made a joke so far.

We practiced slow flight for a bit, and then it was time to do stalls. STALLS. That's a word that people hear and don't normally associate with airplanes. Unlike earth vehicles such as cars, stalling an airplane doesn't have much to do with the engine itself. The definition of a stall according to Wikipedia:
"a stall is a reduction in the lift coefficient generated by an airfoile as angle of attack increases. This occurs when the critical angle of attack of the airfoil is exceeded."

Sounds exciting right?
For people such as myself, who'd rather stick a fork in their eye rather than try to understand what the definition above means, a stall can mean that the wings of an airplane can not generate enough lift (for various reasons) in order to keep the airplane at the same altitude.

I made a joke.

And so the airplane stalls, and the nose of the airplane goes from a nose up attitude to a nose down attitude very quickly. Depending on how severe the stall is, the airplane I fly can generally lose 100 to 300 feet of altitude in a mater of two seconds or so. If the stall is aggravated by wrong handling of the airplane controls by the pilot, the airplane can enter a spin, and things can potentially get worse from there on. As well, if a stall occurs close to the ground, for instance during takeoff or landing, the results can be, well, devastating, for lack of a better word. This is why we practice stalls, so if they happen accidentally, I will know the correct procedures to perform in order to get out of those sticky situations. Would you like to read more about stalls? Here you go.

Sounds terrifying? I thought I'd be terrified. But a funny thing happened to me this lesson. There was some sort of change in me. I feel I have conquered some of my fears. I've come to love the essence of flying an airplane. It was a very windy and cloudy day this time around. The conditions were less than friendly, especially for doing exercises that push the boundaries of the airplane, and yet I felt strangely at ease. I rolled with the punches, or the turbulence in this case. There I was, in an airplane with an engine that has 100 horsepower, constantly trying to dodge grey clouds and rain, battling the winds at 4000 feet up, I realized that flying keeps me grounded.

In the next lesson, we're going to practice more advanced stalls, as well as a spin or two. I didn't think I'd look forward to this time in my flying endeavors , but to be honest, I can't wait for the next lesson.

Flying for Range & Endurance

Photo taken from www.last.fm forums

New Post! I'm fresh out of the airplane. Just had a lesson this morning. Today's lesson involved flying for range, and flying for endurance. I won't bore you with the details, but basically what those two terms mean is flying for the greatest amount of distance, and flying for the greatest amount of time respectively. Put simply, one achieves this by slowing down the airplane to a pre-determined speed, or a certain power setting (RPM) on the Tachometer (engine gauge). These pre-determined speeds and power settings are written in the performance charts of the airplane manual. There are a few calculations to be made in order to reach these pre-determined numbers, but it's not rocket-science. It's airplane math. And if I can do it, anyone can.

I realize this doesn't sound like much fun. The thing to note is that when you're using lower air speeds and low power settings, your aircraft is at a higher risk of stalling, so one must be more aware of the airspeed and other indicators in order to stay a safe distance from a stall.

It's been two weeks again since I had the last lesson. While I did feel comfortable this lesson, I felt a little bit less sharp - things felt a tiny bit more overwhelming, than if I had flown the week before. At least this is how I feel, however my instructor told me that I completed everything well and that I'm being hard on myself. I told him that being hard on myself is what I do best.

I do also feel that a weak point of mine right now is radio communications. A couple of times I found myself pausing mid-sentence, not knowing what to say next and looking to Eric (my instructor) for help. This bothers me. I feel like I should be more fluent in my communications by now, so I'll try to practice that a bit more for next lesson.

Near the end of the lesson, Eric decided to have some fun and show me what stalling the airplane feels like. Right. I told him that I hope he doesn't take offense if I swear at him during the stalls. He laughed. My actual stalls lesson is coming up in two lessons, so I thought I might as well experience this now. Well, I experienced it. Great. Nothing like falling 300 feet in about two seconds.

To be honest, it wasn't as bad as I made it out to be in my wimpy mind. It's something I feel I'll be able to master without fear when I get to practice it. To me, steep turns seemed a bit more extreme. I'll get into stalls a bit more after I have that lesson, I just wanted to give you a preview of what's to come.

As an aside, I got to land again. I came in a tad too high, but the landing itself felt like the smoothest yet. Landing is quickly becoming another part of the flying experience for me, which is good because landing is important for getting back on the ground. The approach and landing experience goes by so quickly, probably because you're so focused, and so many things are happening very fast. I hope that with more experience, things begin to slow down in my head. But right now it's a very fun, and a bit stressful part of flying.

Ok, by the way, if all two of you followers have any questions, comments, ideas for topics for me to write about, or you would to tell me what you had for dinner last night, please do so. Feedback is fantastic.

Preps , Reps, and Props and Repeat

I don't have anything new to report to you today. I was supposed to have a lesson on Sunday, but it was canceled. My next scheduled lesson is this Wednesday, but at this point, I'm not banking on anything. As I stated before, taking two people's limited schedule availability, and taking into account the weather limitations, cars breaking down, people getting sick, etc., and you begin to realize how many lesson cancellations can occur, and that's what's been happening to me. Frustrating? Yes.

Instead I thought I'd tell you the things I do in order to prepare for the next lesson:

1. Read
I like to read newspapers, internets, and romantic novels. But for every lesson, there's also a chapter out of the "Canadian Flight Training Manual" book. This book is fantastic. It basically tells you about each lesson, what exercises it will consist of, what you should expect, how to handle the airplane, etc. It's actually an easy and interesting technical read, and I look forward to reading it after every lesson. In fact, I've pretty much read the whole book once over, but I go back to it before each lesson for the particular chapter.

2. Flight Simulator
It is, after all, how it all started for me. It's a big part of how I became fascinated with flight. These days, I use it as practice. I have a computer that runs X-plane, which is a cheap but very realistic flight simulator. I practice things that I have done the prior lessons, I brush up on things that that I haven't done in a while, and I practice the exorcises that I feel I'm weaker at, such as steep turns. Apart from feeling those G forces and feeling like you're going to die, you can really get accustomed to the angle at which the horizon sits on the windshield. I think X-plane is proving to be a big help, as well as a big money saver for me. It keeps me sharp so I won't have to spend as much time on things I already did in the air in the real airplane.

3. Live ATC
I've started listening to the air traffic control for Buttonville Airport, which is where I fly from. You can listen to it here if you want (in fact you can listen to every airport's available traffic control frequencies here), but I don't imagine that would interest many people so much. For me, it's good practice to get used to the "radio language", as well as the procedures for Buttonville airport. When I cross-reference what I hear on ATC with my airport diagrams and maps, it all starts to come together and really make sense. For a small airport such as Buttonville, there are only so many taxiways, routes, navigational landmarks and procedures that the traffic is based on, so in that way it starts to become repetitive, and more importantly, more familiar to me.

4. Take pictures
No, not while in the airplane, not yet. While sitting at home anxiously waiting for my next lesson, in order to psyche myself up, I sometimes take pictures of... well, just look for yourself:

Im going to get a lot of slack for this one.

All joking aside, I find that when I feel over-prepared for my lesson, that's when I feel most comfortable in the airplane. If I don't do enough of the things I stated above, then it feels like a million things a second are being thrown at you, and it's hard to comprehend them all. However, when I do enough studying and preparation, the lessons are like butter.

Flying, and everything that encompasses it, seems to be a lifelong, never ending journey. There's always more to learn, more to study, more to explore. I feel like the more passionate I am about it, the more I will accomplish these things. Sometimes I feel like I don't do enough, but so far I've managed to work on my weak points and be focused about this endeavor. I'm thankful that my passion for flying is holding up.

Steep turns & the feelings in your stomach

So, it's time for another flying lesson. It was a 5:45am wake-up call for me. That's about as early as I've had to wake up in about 27 years of living. Though I hear that commercial pilots enjoy waking up early, so I'll have to get to that point... when pigs fly, I mean, when I fly. There is something nice about waking up that early, but I'm not sure what it is.

Today's lesson was turns. There are three types of turns - gentle turns, medium turns, and steep turns. It is the first lesson in which the exercises include a more extreme type of flying, where you're pushing the envelope of the airplanes limits, which is not done in normal flying procedures. Steep turn maneuvers are usually done in emergency situations, for instance, when two airplanes are on a collision course and pilot has to change directions immediately. Here's the thing - I didn't realize that I was going to be doing this type of flying in this lesson. I should have figured it out during reading the "Turns" chapter, but I didn't. The thing with doing the types of maneuvers that evoke load factors (G-factors) such as steep turns, is that they have effects on your body that you're not familiar with. These effects are quite hard to explain. I'm not a big fan of roller-coasters, but I have a feeling that you probably get some of the same effects falling from a peak on a roller-coaster as you do doing steep turns. It's that feeling you get when you get pushed back into your seat, as you become light-headed.

Picture taken from http://www.imfi.net
A steep turn is defined as a 45 degree angle turn. I know it may not sound like much, but in the airplane, the window on the inside of the turn is completely filled by the earth, while the window on the other side is completely filled by the sky. Across the windshield is a sight that can only be described as an uncomfortable angle of the horizon, where the earth meets the sky.

If you haven't gotten the clue up until this point, I'll admit to you that it was the first time I was a bit frightened being up there in the airplane. I felt a little uncomfortable. I wasn't soiling my panties or anything, but there was a definite timidness on my part. Regardless, I spent about an hour practicing steep turns, but I have yet to fully get comfortable with them, or perform them to an acceptable standard. I think because I was timid on the flight controls, I tended not to pull up on the steering column enough as I was making the steep turns. This means that the airplane lost about 200 feet or so, every time I performed a steep turn. I know I can do better, and I will next lesson. But it was a bit frustrating, as it was the first exercise in an airplane that really stumped me. Until then I was really catching on quickly. Oh well, it's back to the flight simulator for me to practice some steep turns.

On a side note, I got to land the airplane again. It wasn't as rough as last time, though I did almost stall the airplane on approach - not good. Over the runway, my airspeed was a tad too fast, so when I pulled the throttle to idle, and pushed back on the steering column to raise the nose of the airplane up for touch down, the airplane climbed instead of descending to the ground. When the airspeed is a bit to fast, the airplane climbs only a couple of feet, and eventually settles on the runway. It happens, but it's not a desirable quality to accomplish during a landing. In other words - amateur hour. I'm determined to perform a quality landing next lesson.

Still feeling timid after the lesson, I decided to email an Air Canada pilot that I've been in touch with for about a year now. I asked him if the timidness I experienced from practicing the steep turns is a normal thing that most pilots experience. Thankfully he sent back an email within the hour, saying that he experienced the same things while he was getting his licenses. He told me to stick to it, and persevere, and that I'll love myself for overcoming my fears down the road. It's good to have a pilot that has accumulated more than 13,000 hours give you words of advice sometimes. Captain Doug Morris has a blog you can find here. It's a great read for those of you who are interested in the on goings of a life as an airline pilot.

Lesson 4: It's been a long time coming

Thankfully this didn't happen to me. Picture taken from www.odt.co.nz.

I know, you're probably wondering where my posts about lessons 2 & 3 went. Fear not, I will get to them, right after I update you on my fourth lesson, which occurred this morning.

First thing I'll say about lesson four is that it was a long time coming. Three weeks in fact. With two cancellations the prior weeks, I was aching to get back into an airplane. Today's lesson was Climbs & Descents... with a few surprises thrown in for good measures.

I got to the airport about fifteen minutes early. I got a text from Eric (my instructor) to do the walk around by myself. So I grabbed an airplane from dispatch, and walked out to my airplane. It was the first time I did my walk-around unattended. A walk-around is done to inspect any inconsistencies with the airplane's outer shell, check fuel, oil, flight controls, wheels, etc. It felt good to take some responsibility for my own life for once and make sure the airplane was fit for flying.

I got to take off for my third time (I'll talk about the breaking of my take-off virginity in another post - Lesson 2). This take-off was interesting. During the take-off roll (accelerating down the runway), just before the take-off speed, I hear Eric yell "WOOOoooow". I wasn't sure what I did wrong, so I did my best to concentrate on getting the airplane off the ground. Turns out Eric's door opened again, and I guess he got a bit scared. So did I, but the airplane was finally off the ground, reaching to the heavens. Who needs doors in airplanes anyway?

The lesson itself consisted of learning descent and climbing maneuvers. The procedures can seem pretty complicated once it's all happening in the air. The pilot has to maintain heading, a specified speed, and an indicated pitch of an airplane, while descending or climbing. We practiced power-off descents, which basically means descending with the engine off. This is usually used in emergency landings, when the engine gives up on you. Last night I practiced descents and climbs on my flight simulator, and mid-flight the engine turned off on me for some reason. Thankfully this didn't happen accidentally today. However we practice emergency procedures such as power-off descents, stalls, spins, so that if an emergency does happen, I know how to land the plane safely on the ground.

We also practiced best rate climbs and best angle climbs. Basically they are climbs at two different air speeds, used in different scenarios. Best angle climbs would be used to climb when you have an obstacle you have to clear, such as a high-jump bar, for example, or a tower. As you can imagine, this climb is on a steeper angle, so the nose of the airplane is pitched up, and because it is, the airplane travels at a slower speed, which has to be maintained.

All in all, very fun. One thing I didn't mention is that Eric got me started on radio work for the first time. So I was communicating with the tower, requesting clearances to take off, land, etc. It being my first time, I had traffic control ask me to clarify a couple of things. I felt stupid that they didn't understand me. However, Eric told me that I was better than average for my first time. And as you probably know about me, mediocrity is good enough for me!

Ok, here's the kicker. The part I left out. If the picture didn't give you a clue, I got to land the airplane today. As we were on approach, Eric told me that he's going to see how close he can get me to land the airplane. Instructors can take control at any time if they feel the airplane or the passengers are in danger. So basically he can let me get real close to the runway, and if at the last moment he sees something is off, he can take control of the airplane and perform the corrections.

I was half expecting him to take control of the airplane at some point during our approach. As I lined up the airplane with the runway, I noticed another airplane taxiing onto the runway in order to take off. Then I see that same airplane brake at the center line of the runway - perhaps to do pre-takeoff checks? We were getting closer and closer to the runway, I still had control. I hear the tower in my headset say to the plane on the runway:

"Cessna xxx - take-off immediately".

What seemed like an eternity passes, we're getting closer to landing, and the dude still hasn't started rolling down the runway. I hear the tower in my headset again:

"Cessna xxx - commence take-off roll now!"

Another eternity seems to pass, we're maybe 400 ft from the runway (or so it seemed), and finally I see the airplane on the ground being to swerve a little to the right, and then finally it started rolling down the runway, making room for us to land. The tower finally calls us and says:

"Victor Uniform Hotel (which is the airplane registration code I was flying) - continue to land runway 15."

We're cleared to land, surprisingly I still have control of the airplane, now all I have to do is somehow get the airplane on the ground. The last part of the landing was admittedly a bit rough, but nothing crazy. Eric told me that he helped me pitch the nose upwards a bit because I didn't pitch it up enough right at the end. Having traffic on the runway while we were landing didn't help, as Eric couldn't guide me through the landing like he would have liked. So it's said and done, we both blamed the less than perfect landing on the traffic on the runway. That's a joke kids, never blame your flying abilities on someone or something else. Keeping the airplane and yourself safe at all times is the sole responsibility of the pilot at all times.

To recap, this was an excellent lesson. It seemed like a ton of information was thrown at me, and I felt like I mostly did a good job of following all the directions. It can seem overbearing at times, but I think focusing on the task at hand - that is, not worrying about what just happened or what might happen - really helps with completing and accomplishing your tasks and goals. And isn't that what life is all about.

Don't let the door hit you on the way up

I was supposed to have a lesson this morning. However, my instructor sent me a text message saying he was sick and that I'd have to reschedule. This is the second week in a row that I've had to reschedule. Learning to fly can be frustrating sometimes. I'm taking one lesson a week, which is all I can afford at the moment, and so if any little thing decides not to co-operate that day, be it the weather, a broken car (yes, that happened to me two weeks ago), or sickness, etc. then I don't fly that week. I'm going to try to catch up in the next couple of weeks, but un-matching schedules is also proving to be a problem between me and my instructor. It's mostly my fault though, since I only have two or three hours a day in the early morning that I can dedicate to flying, the rest of the day I'm working. That's not taking into account my instructor's students and his schedule.

So, while my plan was to write about today's lesson, I do have four prior lessons I need to catch you up on. I hope to do that in a couple of installments. I'm still getting used to this whole writing about myself thing. Oh who am I kidding, I love writing about myself. Anyway, if I don't stop blabbering we'll never get to the first lesson, so here we go.

Lesson 1: Don't let the door hit you on the way up

This lesson was a long time coming. I'm taking my flying lessons at a small airport just North of Toronto called Buttonville Airport (CYKZ). Buttonville, as some of you may know, houses Canada's biggest flying school, and is also one of the biggest in the world. In fact, because there are so many take-offs and landings at Buttonville, the airport actually made it to the top 10 list of Canada's busiest airports a couple of years ago.

The down side to Buttonville being a big school, is that for some reason, they took their sweet time with partnering me up with an instructor. To make a short story long, it took multiple phone calls and nagging on my end to finally get someone to teach me how to fly. Yes, sometimes it takes hard work to let someone take $250/hr from you. It all worked out in the end though, as I like my instructor and I feel we have suitable personalities for the student/teacher relationship we're embarking on, which is a very important factor to consider.

So it was finally time for my first lesson. I met my instructor - his name is John Travolta, but we'll call him Eric form here on. Eric and I went into a small room for a briefing. We discussed what we'll learn in the aircraft today. A big part of the briefing and pre-flight preparations is doing weight and balance calculations. The airplane we'll fly is a Cessna 150 - a very small airplane that can easily be stretched to it's weight limits when two people are in it, so it's important to make sure the weight load doesn't surpass the allowed maximums. Balance is a whole different story. It involves complex math, physics, biology, graphic design, and some politics to get the balance of an airplane right. So we won't go into that just yet.

After we made sure we're within the weight and balance limits of the airplane, and talk about what I'll learn, we went out to the airplane. Eric taught me the walk-around that must be preformed before every flight. The walk-around involves checking the fuel, making sure the surface skin of the airplane is smooth and void of any bumps or bruises, and making sure all the nails and the nuts & bolts of the airplane are tightened. It also involves some back-flips.

We then got into the cockpit and performed all the check-lists for starting the airplane and readying it for take-off. Eric told me he would let me take off if the wind wasn't too strong, however the wind quickly crushed that dream. Thought I did get to taxi (drive) the airplane to from the apron (parking spot) to the runway. Eric told me I did a good job. Apparently people have a really hard time with taxiing at the beginning as the power comes from a throttle lever and the turning mechanism comes from foot pedals.

I stated in a prior blog that I had concerns about flying due to what I learned in ground school prior to my first flying lesson - a million ways to crash an airplane and how not to do it. However, as we lined up with the runway center line and Eric pushed the throttle to full, those worries gave way to excitement and an adrenalin rush. I was back, baby. Back with a vegan!

As we took off, however, Eric's door popped open. Yes, you read that right. We took off with an open door. Such is the reality of flying an airplane made in and around 1975. Apparently it happens more often than you'd think. It's not dangerous per-say, just don't unbuckle your seat belt and jump out and you should be fine.

The first lesson consisted of me just getting familiar with the airplane's controls. I got to fly the airplane for about an hour. Basically the only time Eric took control of the airplane was for take off, landing, and to demonstrate exercises in the air.

I don't remember the particulars of the lesson in the air. It was mostly a blur. All I remember is the feeling of flying an airplane all on my own, and even that's hard to describe. Since my fingers are numb and it's late in the evening, I'll go ahead and describe the feeling as incredible.

Stay tuned for my next update about lesson 2 - "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 - take-off... but only if the wind co-operates."

I took the leap

I did it. Literally.

This weekend I got the fortunate chance to go to a friend of a friend's cottage, about an hour and a half north of Toronto, in the Georgian Bay area. Now keep this between you and I, but I'm making a concerted effort to befriend more people with cottages. Or at least befriend more people who have friends who have cottages...

Anyway, this person who owns the cottage (we'll call him Michelle) is a real adrenalin junkie, and I was told beforehand that there will be some jumps involved. Historically, I haven't been known to ride the wild wind, live life on the edge, or whichever way you'd like to put it. I've always thought of myself as more of a grounded person who doesn't seek the kind of physical thrills that get your heart racing, your adrenalin pumping, and your loins tingling.

We started the day off with a boat ride. The boat ride took about three minutes, when we approached a cliff that looked to be about 25 feet up. As Michelle slowed the boat and docked it, he started explaining how to jump off the cliff. Now, I didn't plan on jumping the whole day, but as I found myself climbing up the cliff, a feeling of adventure overcame my senses. I had never jumped off a cliff into water before, but that day there was an urge to discover the unknown.

I took a lower, saner warm-up jump that was about twelve feet from the water. That took a bit of getting used to, but I did it, and it felt great. I found myself climbing the cliff once again, this time to the higher rock on the cliff that is about twenty feet up. I know what you're thinking,
"you're writing this blog about jumping from a twenty foot cliff? Is that even a cliff? Why are you toying with our emotions? My grandmother has jumped from higher places in her grave." etc. But let me tell you, the vantage point from twenty feet up is nothing to scoff at. Plus when you look straight down, the little bit of rock you have to jump over in order to reach the water may be insignificant in reality, but it toys with your emotions.

I let Michelle jump first. Michelle actually jumped from a higher spot, about thirty feet up, which involves climbing a tree, hanging down from it, and jumping into the water. But we're not going to talk about Michelle's heroics much because this is my blog. I was still not sure I was going to jump after his jump, but I was certainly pumping myself up. I felt that I really wanted to jump, but something was stopping me. I proceeded to let my friend jump before me, we'll call him Donna. Donna jumped from the twenty foot rock and landed safely and that seemed to ease my mind a bit.

I stood there for another minute, focusing, trying to let go of my fears. Michelle and Donna wanted to count me down, but Michelle counted down starting from 1 and I wasn't sure what number I was supposed to jump at, so I told them I'm not ready yet.

A minute later, something in my head seemed to let go. For some reason, I was ready for it. I was still hesitant, and felt like I needed an external "push", so I told them to give me a count down, this time starting from 5.

As Michelle and Donna were counting down, I felt doubt set in, but also anticipation. I felt like it was up to me whether I allow my fears to overcome me, or if I manage to overcome my fears, and experience a thrill I've never experienced before. As I heard the number 1 being shouted at me, it was almost automatic. I felt my legs push off the rock, and from there on, it was an incredible experience. The feeling of letting go, being airborne, the freedom from the doubt and fears and the built-up anticipation... the thought of having a Facebook profile picture of me jumping off a cliff, was almost overwhelming. Finally hitting the water was the most fulfilling moment I've had in a while.

You may ask what this has to do with flying an airplane. Well, it has nothing to do with flying an airplane. This story has everything to do with letting go of your doubts and fears, and doing something spectacular that you've never done before. I realized after my cliff jump that I went through the exact same mental process on that cliff as I did when I chose to take up flying. Although deciding to take flying lessons took more than a half a year for me to finally get going, it was the same procedures. The hesitations, the doubts, the anticipation. Having someone close to you cheering you on because they know it's the right thing for you, and that you won't feel complete if you won't at least give it a try. The feeling of taking off in a Cessna 150 (which I'll write about in a later post) is very much the same feeling I got from finally jumping off the cliff.

I know it may sound cliche, but if you're feeling held back, and there are things you feel you must experience, I encourage you to take the leap.

How do you fly this thing?

Ahh, good old ground school. My classes didn't differ much from the scene you see above. Well, we didn't get uniforms, and most people didn't have aviators on. The classroom was actually quite dark and dull, and the average age-range was more around 40 than 25. Come to think of it, the scene was really different from the picture above. However, I did insist that my classmates refer to me as Goose.

The purposes of ground school is to teach you the theories behind all aspects of and around aviation. We learned about a wide range of topics - mechanics, physics of flight, human factors, meteorology, navigation, air law, radios & communications, etc. I won't bore you with the details, but I'll tell you that I did enjoy ground school. If history taught me anything, it's that I'm not good at theory and studying of any kind. But I found myself picking up reading material almost any chance I had. I guess being interested in what I study is key for me.

The one negative thing I'll say about ground school is that for me, since I didn't begin taking flying lessons at the time I attended ground school (which one can do if one chooses to do so), every lesson seemed to boil down to one bottom line: the many ways in which a pilot can crash an airplane, and how to avoid this from happening.

In fact, that message was pounded home so much that by the time I took my first real flying lesson a couple of months after ground school, I'll admit that I was weary and a bit anxious of getting into the airplane. However, I trusted that as soon as the airplane would take off and we would be air-born, that all my worries would fade, and I would focus at the task at hand and enjoy my time in the air. Thankfully that's what transpired, and aside from taking off with a faulty, unlatched, opened door on my instructor's side, everything went smoothly. Eeeek. More on that in my next post.