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.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Flying for Range & Endurance
Photo taken from www.last.fm forumsNew 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.
Monday, September 13, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Lesson 4: It's been a long time coming
Thankfully this didn't happen to me. Picture taken from www.odt.co.nz.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.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
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."
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."
Monday, August 16, 2010
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.
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.
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