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| This is me on short final in C-GCIA on December 17, 2016 |
First solo anniversary
One year ago today, I did my first solo flight! Thinking back, I was amazingly calm in those first few minutes as pilot in command. Learning to fly is an incredible, challenging, awe-inspiring journey. My whole perspective on life is changed because of it. The learning never ends and the thrill of it is new every day.
"When you learn to fly it changes who you are and how you think of yourself forever." —John King
Night training and what to do about it
In the summer, I did a night lesson with my PPL instructor but was unable to continue the night training with him because his new job as a regional airline pilot made it too difficult. So, I decided to head out to my flying club (not my original flying school) to do my night rating there since a) it's relatively inexpensive and b) it would ensure I flew the hours I need to stay current there. I did a beautiful night familiarization flight over the city with my new instructor on October 14 and have since done two lessons of night circuit training.
Our first night of circuits went very well. The plan was for me to do solo circuits on my next flight. After three weeks of cancellations due to weather, we flew again on Nov 11. The goal was still for me to solo after a couple of dual warm-up circuits. Well, as it happens, my dad had a stroke a couple of days before and was still unstable. I was very worried about him, although driving to the airport that night, I wasn't aware of the level of stress I was feeling. But once we were in the air, I knew that I wasn't at my best that night. After the first circuit, we decided to see if I could settle in but the second one didn't feel right either and I decided to pack it in. My instructor was completely understanding but I felt awful.
Since then, I haven't had a night lesson. I've been busy helping my dad out. But behind the circumstances that have derailed my night training is a weird, lingering feeling that I don't want to do it. I'm trying to analyze why. Part of it is that I'm scared but I am always scared of new flying experiences and with that I just need to suck it up and get on with it. But I think I'm also torn about where I want to do the training. My flying club is cheaper and the instructor is great but the planes are older and more basic and I feel like I can't see as well in them at night (the instruments and map). And my friends are out at Cooking Lake and I sort of wish I were there, with my new instructor there and their lovely newer planes with Garmin 1000 avionics, which are so much easier to see at night.
Lots of people learn to fly on old planes and lots of people survive their night ratings. But flying with sophisticated avionics is good, too. I don't know why I can't just decide and then get on with it.
POST SCRIPT - December 18 - I have come to a decision! I realized that what I had to do was sort out what I need from each of the two places where I fly. I joined the flying club at Villeneuve for inexpensive airplane rental and for experience with different types of planes - older 172s and also their Mooney and Citabria. So I am going to limit my activity there to these original reasons. I am connected to Cooking Lake because that's where I did my PPL training and have started my commercial training and where I have a community of fellow pilots, many of whom I do or could fly with (day or night). So, it's clearer now where I should finish my night rating. Cooking Lake is my home and my training base; I will do my night training there.
Our first night of circuits went very well. The plan was for me to do solo circuits on my next flight. After three weeks of cancellations due to weather, we flew again on Nov 11. The goal was still for me to solo after a couple of dual warm-up circuits. Well, as it happens, my dad had a stroke a couple of days before and was still unstable. I was very worried about him, although driving to the airport that night, I wasn't aware of the level of stress I was feeling. But once we were in the air, I knew that I wasn't at my best that night. After the first circuit, we decided to see if I could settle in but the second one didn't feel right either and I decided to pack it in. My instructor was completely understanding but I felt awful.
Since then, I haven't had a night lesson. I've been busy helping my dad out. But behind the circumstances that have derailed my night training is a weird, lingering feeling that I don't want to do it. I'm trying to analyze why. Part of it is that I'm scared but I am always scared of new flying experiences and with that I just need to suck it up and get on with it. But I think I'm also torn about where I want to do the training. My flying club is cheaper and the instructor is great but the planes are older and more basic and I feel like I can't see as well in them at night (the instruments and map). And my friends are out at Cooking Lake and I sort of wish I were there, with my new instructor there and their lovely newer planes with Garmin 1000 avionics, which are so much easier to see at night.
Lots of people learn to fly on old planes and lots of people survive their night ratings. But flying with sophisticated avionics is good, too. I don't know why I can't just decide and then get on with it.
POST SCRIPT - December 18 - I have come to a decision! I realized that what I had to do was sort out what I need from each of the two places where I fly. I joined the flying club at Villeneuve for inexpensive airplane rental and for experience with different types of planes - older 172s and also their Mooney and Citabria. So I am going to limit my activity there to these original reasons. I am connected to Cooking Lake because that's where I did my PPL training and have started my commercial training and where I have a community of fellow pilots, many of whom I do or could fly with (day or night). So, it's clearer now where I should finish my night rating. Cooking Lake is my home and my training base; I will do my night training there.
Always learning: More radio navigation
Since I'm working toward my commercial license, I've found a new instructor at Cooking Lake, who is fun and suits my style. I've done a few flights with him to keep working on things I've learned and to advance my knowledge and skills. Lately, we've been working on radio navigation using VORs. VORs are ground stations that emit radio signals outward in a 360 degree array. Pilots can tune in to the signal and follow a specific radial, which is tracked by an onboard instrument. A week or so ago, we flew a wide circle around Cooking Lake, tracking the Edmonton VOR outbound to Vegreville, across to Chipman, and back again to Cooking Lake. I was under the hood the whole time (so I couldn't see outside), so I got an hour of instrument time while I learned.
Yesterday, we went up again for another practice session. This time, we climbed to 9500' and tracked the 360 degree radial (northbound) of the Edmonton VOR to Athabasca. It was a beautiful day - perfect for flying - and it was the highest I've ever flown (as a pilot). We had snacks and music along the way and really enjoyed the flight. My instructor also demonstrated how to use flight following, which is when you ask air traffic control to monitor your flight, even in uncontrolled airspace, for the purpose of traffic separation. Hilariously, although Athabasca is just a small town, everyone who flew there yesterday arrived at the same time we did. The circuit was crazy! We touched down there and then departed immediately for a direct return via GPS to Cooking Lake.
These experiences really helped me to visualize what is actually happening with VOR navigation and it was great practice in working with the instruments. It was also just a lot of fun and a reminder of what a great privilege it is to fly.
Yesterday, we went up again for another practice session. This time, we climbed to 9500' and tracked the 360 degree radial (northbound) of the Edmonton VOR to Athabasca. It was a beautiful day - perfect for flying - and it was the highest I've ever flown (as a pilot). We had snacks and music along the way and really enjoyed the flight. My instructor also demonstrated how to use flight following, which is when you ask air traffic control to monitor your flight, even in uncontrolled airspace, for the purpose of traffic separation. Hilariously, although Athabasca is just a small town, everyone who flew there yesterday arrived at the same time we did. The circuit was crazy! We touched down there and then departed immediately for a direct return via GPS to Cooking Lake.
These experiences really helped me to visualize what is actually happening with VOR navigation and it was great practice in working with the instruments. It was also just a lot of fun and a reminder of what a great privilege it is to fly.
Knowledgeable passenger
In addition to my home base at Cooking Lake, I also fly at a flying club at Villeneuve airport. But out there, I don't know anyone so don't have a pilot buddy to fly their planes with. So, I asked my pilot friend, Cam, if he'd be willing to come along with me for a flight out there as a knowledgeable passenger who could save us if necessary. :) Last week, on Dec 1, we flew to Barrhead, a 33 NM flight from Villeneuve Airport.
I'm getting more comfortable with the planes there. They really are just 172s like I'm used to but the strangest part is the radios. I fiddled with them a bit but it finally clicked and we headed off. The flight was lovely.
As we neared Barrhead, we searched for the airport. When I went there in the summer, it was easy to find, but with everything all white in the winter, it was trickier. I had a sense of where it was and Cam confirmed a couple landmarks on the map so I flew toward the downwind leg. My landing was great (the quality of my landing seems to define a whole flight for me!). I recorded the times and reset the instruments and we took off again for a pleasant flight home. I was cleared straight-in for runway 16. I trained in uncontrolled airspace, where straight-in approaches are not permitted so to be able to do them at Villeneuve, which is controlled, is kind of cool. You have to think it through differently since you don't have the same structure on approach (normally a rectangular pattern) but I haven't had any trouble with it.
It was another great day in an airplane and it was nice to have Cam along for company and security.
I'm getting more comfortable with the planes there. They really are just 172s like I'm used to but the strangest part is the radios. I fiddled with them a bit but it finally clicked and we headed off. The flight was lovely.
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| Halfway to Barrhead |
It was another great day in an airplane and it was nice to have Cam along for company and security.
Another pilot friend
My commercial ground school class is a great group of people. I've made some new pilot friends and have had the chance to fly with one of them. Cam is a fairly new pilot but he has about 30 hours more than me. I once commented that those extra 30 hours he has on me must have shown him a lot more than I've seen yet. He said, "Yeah, it's 30 hours more than you of being scared to fly the plane!" Clearly, we both still struggle with the newness of it all and the thought of the many things we still have to learn, some of it probably the hard way. So, it's been great to be able to fly with him. We learn from each other, give each other a sense of security, and have a lot of fun, to boot!
On Nov 10, we went for a short flight to Camrose, a small nearby city (26 NM). It wasn't the nicest of days but still safe for a VFR flight. The ceilings were low so we stayed at about 3500-4000' (1000-1500' above ground).
I flew the leg to Camrose. I've been there several times so I know right where the airport is. It's usually pretty easy to spot the runway because it's oriented exactly in line with the heading to Camrose and you end up looking right down it as you approach the airport. But this time, I couldn't see it at all. I flew to where I knew it should be, as Cam as I searched the ground for that little strip of asphalt. Finally we spotted the airport. The taxiway was clear, which is how we found it, but the runway was covered with snow. This was a decision point; could we land? I decided to fly the approach and see what we encountered and overshoot if it didn't look good. But as I got down, I could see that the snow was shallow and packed and that there were clear patches on the runway. So I landed. It turned out to be a totally normal landing. Didn't feel any different.
Cam flew us home. He wanted to practice an instrument approach so we did a simulated RNAV approach into Cooking Lake. That was cool for me to see since I am only beginning to see some of the instrument techniques just by watching others.
This was a smooth and beautiful flight, despite the cloudy day. It was also a moment to exercise some pilot judgment and I think I did alright with that.
Then today, we flew together to Stettler, another small Alberta town, just 68 NM south of Cooking Lake. We took along our friend, Aydin, a PPL student we met in ground school. I flew the leg to Stettler. This time it was tricky to find the airport because everything was brown and the runway blended in. But find it we did. I crossed overhead and joined the downwind. It was windy in the circuit and I turned base too soon and so got pushed in a bit, making my final leg too short. I came in a little too fast and bounced a couple of little bounces but then the plane settled and all was well. It was embarrassing more than anything, with our young student friend on board, and I could have gone around.
Cam did a perfect take-off and flew us home in the setting sun. He managed a windy approach at night and his landing was a beauty.
What a blast it was to fly with those two! They both have a great sense of humour and we laughed a lot.
On Nov 10, we went for a short flight to Camrose, a small nearby city (26 NM). It wasn't the nicest of days but still safe for a VFR flight. The ceilings were low so we stayed at about 3500-4000' (1000-1500' above ground).
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| Heading for Camrose |
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| Snowy runway in Camrose |
This was a smooth and beautiful flight, despite the cloudy day. It was also a moment to exercise some pilot judgment and I think I did alright with that.
Then today, we flew together to Stettler, another small Alberta town, just 68 NM south of Cooking Lake. We took along our friend, Aydin, a PPL student we met in ground school. I flew the leg to Stettler. This time it was tricky to find the airport because everything was brown and the runway blended in. But find it we did. I crossed overhead and joined the downwind. It was windy in the circuit and I turned base too soon and so got pushed in a bit, making my final leg too short. I came in a little too fast and bounced a couple of little bounces but then the plane settled and all was well. It was embarrassing more than anything, with our young student friend on board, and I could have gone around.
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| Stettler town and airport |
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| On the way home from Stettler |
Coupla beautiful flights
In the last two weeks, my pilot friend, Doug, and I have been able to do a couple of really beautiful flights. On October 15, we flew northeast to Lac La Biche, a small northern town on the edge of a large, beautiful lake. The flight took us over Elk Island National Park and across some gorgeous, ever-changing terrain. As we traveled further north, the fields gave way to forest and muskeg until Lac La Biche finally came into view. It felt like we were arriving at a resort town, as Doug flew the downwind for the active runway over the water. The 89 NM flight was just over an hour so we stopped at the lovely little terminal to stretch.
I flew the homeward leg. It was as beautiful as on the way out. As we neared our home base at Cooking Lake Airport, we started to wonder what the wind was doing. Doug looked it up on his iPad and told me that there was a bit of a crosswind. Crosswind landings are still tricky for me but Doug was encouraging and said that for sure I could handle it. I wrestled our little plane down, flying a very windy approach and then holding on to it as we touched down. It wasn't my most beautiful landing but I didn't wreck the plane. Haha. I was pretty proud of myself when Doug confessed that it was a 90 degree crosswind at 12 knots gusting 18! All in all, it was a great day, a beautiful flight, and a lot of fun. Every flight is a learning experience, too.
Yesterday, Doug and I flew again, this time to Rocky Mountain House. This small town lies in the lee of the Rockies, 88 NM southwest of Cooking Lake. It was an absolutely beautiful day. I flew the outbound leg. The winds aloft were 50 knots but it was still smooth. The approach into Rocky is lovely with the mountains as a backdrop. I flew a perfect circuit and did the greasiest of landings! It was a thing of beauty! Again, we rested for a few minutes in the terminal and then outside because it was so warm and calm. We marveled at how amazing it was to be able to fly and see the things we see.
We hopped back in, with Doug in command, for our sunset flight home. It was absolutely glorious. The sky was breathtaking. We approached the city at dusk and landed at Cooking Lake just as darkness fell. It was another transcendent and wonderful flight.
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| Over Elk Island National Park |
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| Snowy fields as we head north |
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| Arriving at Lac La Biche |
Yesterday, Doug and I flew again, this time to Rocky Mountain House. This small town lies in the lee of the Rockies, 88 NM southwest of Cooking Lake. It was an absolutely beautiful day. I flew the outbound leg. The winds aloft were 50 knots but it was still smooth. The approach into Rocky is lovely with the mountains as a backdrop. I flew a perfect circuit and did the greasiest of landings! It was a thing of beauty! Again, we rested for a few minutes in the terminal and then outside because it was so warm and calm. We marveled at how amazing it was to be able to fly and see the things we see.
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| In the circuit at Rocky Mountain House |
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| Heading home from Rocky, Gull Lake in the distance |
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| Sunset over Pigeon Lake |
Radials
Last week I did a flight with an instructor to practice crosswind landings. We did one circuit at Cooking Lake, only to discover that the fabulous crosswind had suddenly shifted to straight down the runway. So we decided to fly to Camrose, 26 NM away, where the runway is oriented 40 degrees more to the north, to catch that crosswind again.
On the way there, just to use the time wisely, I went under the hood to get some instrument time. Specifically, we practiced tuning into the Edmonton VOR and tracking the radial that intersects Camrose. VOR stands for Very High Frequency Omni-Directional Range. The VOR emits radio signals outward in 360 degrees. An airplane can track any one of the radials and follow it to stay on course. VORs are dotted across the landscape so once one is too far away, another one can be picked up. After we did some circuits in Camrose, we headed home and spent some more time practicing the radio navigation. I understand in a textbook way how the VOR works but I find it confusing and tricky to actually track and use it. I understood it better after our lesson that day, though.
As we were finishing up the lesson and approaching our home airport, my instructor said that he loved hopping from VOR to VOR because, "Once you're on a radial, you can just follow it forever." As it happens, I am currently reading Walden by Henry David Thoreau, in which he talks about the many ways there are to live life and how we too easily box ourselves in with convention and expectation. The day after my flying lesson on tracking VOR radials, I read his words: "This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre." The coincidence of reading those words after learning about finding and following a VOR radial was striking to me. Just as a pilot can choose any one of the 360 possible directions emanating from the VOR and fly that way for a long time, we have freedom in life to choose our own direction. Flying has shown me that freedom once again.
On the way there, just to use the time wisely, I went under the hood to get some instrument time. Specifically, we practiced tuning into the Edmonton VOR and tracking the radial that intersects Camrose. VOR stands for Very High Frequency Omni-Directional Range. The VOR emits radio signals outward in 360 degrees. An airplane can track any one of the radials and follow it to stay on course. VORs are dotted across the landscape so once one is too far away, another one can be picked up. After we did some circuits in Camrose, we headed home and spent some more time practicing the radio navigation. I understand in a textbook way how the VOR works but I find it confusing and tricky to actually track and use it. I understood it better after our lesson that day, though.
As we were finishing up the lesson and approaching our home airport, my instructor said that he loved hopping from VOR to VOR because, "Once you're on a radial, you can just follow it forever." As it happens, I am currently reading Walden by Henry David Thoreau, in which he talks about the many ways there are to live life and how we too easily box ourselves in with convention and expectation. The day after my flying lesson on tracking VOR radials, I read his words: "This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre." The coincidence of reading those words after learning about finding and following a VOR radial was striking to me. Just as a pilot can choose any one of the 360 possible directions emanating from the VOR and fly that way for a long time, we have freedom in life to choose our own direction. Flying has shown me that freedom once again.
Buddy pilot
Last year, in ground school, I met another student pilot named Doug. During our flight training, we'd often see each other at the airport. He finished about 3 months before me and we've kept in touch thanks to social media and the occasional coincidental plane rental booking times. A couple of times, we commented on each other's social media postings, saying we should fly together sometime. Eventually I figured we should actually go and do that so I asked him if he wanted to book a time. So, yesterday we flew from Cooking Lake to Drumheller, 117 NM to the south. It was fantastic!
The weather was awful in the days leading up to our flight and even on the morning of our booking, it was questionable. We watched the forecast and weather reports right up until we had to head out to the airport and finally decided it was worth a try. At the airport, the weather seemed dicey due to some very low scattered cloud. We conferred with a couple of the flight instructors and everyone agreed we should go up, see what it was like, and turn back if it was no good.
The low cloud kept us at only 1000 ft above ground level for most of the way down but other than that, the weather was no issue. Visibility was perfect and the views were beautiful. By the time we left Drumheller, the clouds had lifted a bit and we were able to come back at 3500 ft above ground. The views were even more amazing at that altitude!
We had a blast! What was great was that we were able to confess some of our stupid moments from our flight training as well as some of the things we still worry about. Learning to fly can be an isolating experience because you don't spend much time with other students, it's scary to confess your fears to others, and you can't judge whether you're doing alright. So it was awesome to just lay it all out there with each other as we flew along! What you find out when you open up and talk is that you aren't the only one! Besides being a confessional experience, it was also very reassuring to fly with another pilot who is at the same level. We were able to ask each other questions and talk about how we each did things. Both of us said that the nervousness we usually feel before we fly was completely gone with each other there. I flew us down to Drumheller and he flew us back. Neither of us helped each other very much, other than general how-do-you-do-things discussions and questions, but just knowing that there was someone there who had my back was comforting and he said he felt the same way.
I found it to be such a relief to fly with him. Plus, it was just super fun. Drumheller is beautiful, too, located in the badlands of southern Alberta, so it was a stunning place to visit, if only for a few minutes. And what's more is we actually made it! We aviated and navigated and communicated without any issue. We do know how to do this. But it sure is nice to have a buddy pilot.
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| Taking off out of Drumheller; Doug in command |
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| The town of Drumheller in the Red Deer River valley |
The low cloud kept us at only 1000 ft above ground level for most of the way down but other than that, the weather was no issue. Visibility was perfect and the views were beautiful. By the time we left Drumheller, the clouds had lifted a bit and we were able to come back at 3500 ft above ground. The views were even more amazing at that altitude!
We had a blast! What was great was that we were able to confess some of our stupid moments from our flight training as well as some of the things we still worry about. Learning to fly can be an isolating experience because you don't spend much time with other students, it's scary to confess your fears to others, and you can't judge whether you're doing alright. So it was awesome to just lay it all out there with each other as we flew along! What you find out when you open up and talk is that you aren't the only one! Besides being a confessional experience, it was also very reassuring to fly with another pilot who is at the same level. We were able to ask each other questions and talk about how we each did things. Both of us said that the nervousness we usually feel before we fly was completely gone with each other there. I flew us down to Drumheller and he flew us back. Neither of us helped each other very much, other than general how-do-you-do-things discussions and questions, but just knowing that there was someone there who had my back was comforting and he said he felt the same way.
I found it to be such a relief to fly with him. Plus, it was just super fun. Drumheller is beautiful, too, located in the badlands of southern Alberta, so it was a stunning place to visit, if only for a few minutes. And what's more is we actually made it! We aviated and navigated and communicated without any issue. We do know how to do this. But it sure is nice to have a buddy pilot.
That was fun!
This morning, I flew out of Villeneuve, with my dad, to Barrhead. It's a 33 nautical mile trip over beautiful prairie and lakes. It was a very fun flight!
I've been nervous to fly the planes at my new flying club at Villeneuve. They are 172s, which is what I trained on, but they are slightly different than what I'm used to. They have analog instruments (affectionately known as 'steam gauges') and carbureted engines (which means you have to know when to heat the carburetor so it doesn't ice up), along with other slight differences such as how the flap levers and radios work. As well, Villeneuve is a towered airport, whereas I trained at a small, uncontrolled airport. I joined this club precisely for these different experiences but, right now, while I'm a new pilot, the lack of familiarity with the planes at Villeneuve has caused me some stress when I think about flying there.
I was terribly nervous when I did my first flight there as pilot-in-command in August, although it turned out to be perfectly fine. Today, the weather looked good and the wind seemed manageable, so we were looking forward to going up. I wasn't nervous at all today! I have never been so relaxed before a flight and it was a nice feeling. I had reserved the flying club plane with which I'm most familiar so that helped. As soon as I sat in it, and scanned the equipment, I felt good to go.
The airport was quiet and the sun was shining. I taxied down to the active runway, did the run-up, and then got take-off clearance. We turned out of the circuit and set the GPS for Barrhead. I always set the GPS because it's a back-up and a double-check, but I navigate mainly with the map so I can stay proficient at that. This time I had to keep three big lakes on my left and then cross over the Pembina River just south of Barrhead. We were there in no time since we had a decent tailwind. I joined the circuit and did a pretty nice landing.
I recorded the times, reset the GPS, and took off again. The flight back was beautiful, too, even though we had an incredible headwind! It was smooth but our ground speed was 60-70 knots, in a plane that normally cruises around 100 kts. It felt like we were crawling. We joked about whether we'd have enough fuel for the hours it would take to get back or whether we'd make it in time for the next rental.
I switched back to the tower frequency a little over halfway there, just to be ready, but a few minutes later, I decided to make a position report on the enroute frequency since we were still a ways out and it seemed like it might be forever before we got back at that ground speed! Silly me, though, I had forgotten that I had switched over and I made the broadcast on the tower frequency. In the moment that it dawned on me: "Juliet Juliet Lima, this is the Villeneuve tower frequency." Me: "Tower, I just realized that. My apologies." Thankfully, there was nobody else on the radio so it was probably just a laugh for ATC. 😜
When I contacted Tower again a few minutes later - this time for real! - I was cleared straight in for Runway 16 and did another perfectly fine landing.
This was really a great flight! I felt good about how I performed (except for that silly radio thing but that was minor). We talked and soaked in the views. I enjoyed being a pilot today and my dad enjoyed coming along!
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| South of Barrhead |
I've been nervous to fly the planes at my new flying club at Villeneuve. They are 172s, which is what I trained on, but they are slightly different than what I'm used to. They have analog instruments (affectionately known as 'steam gauges') and carbureted engines (which means you have to know when to heat the carburetor so it doesn't ice up), along with other slight differences such as how the flap levers and radios work. As well, Villeneuve is a towered airport, whereas I trained at a small, uncontrolled airport. I joined this club precisely for these different experiences but, right now, while I'm a new pilot, the lack of familiarity with the planes at Villeneuve has caused me some stress when I think about flying there.
I was terribly nervous when I did my first flight there as pilot-in-command in August, although it turned out to be perfectly fine. Today, the weather looked good and the wind seemed manageable, so we were looking forward to going up. I wasn't nervous at all today! I have never been so relaxed before a flight and it was a nice feeling. I had reserved the flying club plane with which I'm most familiar so that helped. As soon as I sat in it, and scanned the equipment, I felt good to go.
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| My favourite flying club plane - C-GJJL |
The airport was quiet and the sun was shining. I taxied down to the active runway, did the run-up, and then got take-off clearance. We turned out of the circuit and set the GPS for Barrhead. I always set the GPS because it's a back-up and a double-check, but I navigate mainly with the map so I can stay proficient at that. This time I had to keep three big lakes on my left and then cross over the Pembina River just south of Barrhead. We were there in no time since we had a decent tailwind. I joined the circuit and did a pretty nice landing.
I recorded the times, reset the GPS, and took off again. The flight back was beautiful, too, even though we had an incredible headwind! It was smooth but our ground speed was 60-70 knots, in a plane that normally cruises around 100 kts. It felt like we were crawling. We joked about whether we'd have enough fuel for the hours it would take to get back or whether we'd make it in time for the next rental.
I switched back to the tower frequency a little over halfway there, just to be ready, but a few minutes later, I decided to make a position report on the enroute frequency since we were still a ways out and it seemed like it might be forever before we got back at that ground speed! Silly me, though, I had forgotten that I had switched over and I made the broadcast on the tower frequency. In the moment that it dawned on me: "Juliet Juliet Lima, this is the Villeneuve tower frequency." Me: "Tower, I just realized that. My apologies." Thankfully, there was nobody else on the radio so it was probably just a laugh for ATC. 😜
When I contacted Tower again a few minutes later - this time for real! - I was cleared straight in for Runway 16 and did another perfectly fine landing.
This was really a great flight! I felt good about how I performed (except for that silly radio thing but that was minor). We talked and soaked in the views. I enjoyed being a pilot today and my dad enjoyed coming along!
Still becoming a pilot
Since getting my license, I've done about 10 flights, half of them as pilot-in-command (PIC), so I have kept my hand in it for sure. But confidence doesn't magically come with the license and I seem to be developing some anxiety again; I have a lot of nerves before I fly.
I noticed this acutely when I planned to fly my dad to Barrhead from Villeneuve, a 30 NM flight, on August 23. As is my custom, I obsessed about the weather, mainly the winds, the day before, and in the morning, I became quite concerned that the crosswind would be too much for me to handle upon landing in Barrhead. Dad and I drove out to the airport but I was so stressed on the way, thinking of all of ways that this planned flight was overwhelming me. Besides the wind, this was going to be my first flight as PIC in one of the Namao planes, which were still somewhat unfamiliar to me. To top it off, my reservation had been transferred to a different plane than the one I had booked, one that I had never flown (this was done because my plane was too close to its hours for its next maintenance). It was just too much. I didn't think I could do it. Once at the airport, I confirmed that the winds were fairly strong, about 12 knots, which isn't that bad but it's too much for me if it's a crosswind. Dad was unconcerned at first but when he realized how much uncertainty I was faced with, he suggested that we fly but we just do circuits at Villeneuve, where we could have an into-the-wind runway. I was greatly relieved by that suggestion. The club manager gave me a briefing on the equipment differences in the airplane I was assigned. Feeling like it was all more manageable, we did go and do some circuits. It all went very well in the end. I was able to fly that plane and handle that wind.
So, I should know from that experience that I don't need to worry and stress as much as I do. But it seems that as time goes on, I am increasingly afraid to fly. I don't trust myself. It's very easy for me to be hard on myself and judge myself. Sometimes I wonder if I just suck as a pilot. But, I did really well on my flight test. My Namao instructor was complimentary, too. My dad thinks I'm OK. So I must be OK! Interestingly, my Namao instructor said he really enjoyed flying with me when I was a brand new pilot because he has a particular interest in helping people make the leap from student pilot to licensed pilot. I've since thought back on that; obviously this transition is a thing. Also, it's interesting that once you start to admit your worries to others, they are free to admit theirs, and then you both know that you aren't just awful at it when everyone else is great. I admitted my insecurities to a couple of fellow pilots just this week. One of them, a guy in my commerical ground school class has been a pilot for a few months and he started telling me stories of silly things he's done. It was so reassuring and validating. Another is a friend from my private pilot ground school class, who told me that he still feels especially pleased when he does a good landing. So rather than beat myself up, I am trying to analyze and understand this situation so I can do something constructive to remedy it.
First of all, I complicated things for myself when I joined Namao. The planes are different and the airspace is more complex there and it's still new.
Second, I am not comfortable with crosswind landings and that has a huge influence on how comfortable I feel taking off in the first place.
Third, I am a new pilot. I just haven't seen a lot or had to deal with that much yet so not knowing what each flight will bring is a bit stressful.
What can I do about this? Well, I have to keep flying. I can't run away from it because it's a challenge right now. Thinking back to the fear I felt before I did my first solo flight away from the airport, I know that I have to do it anyway and that I have to do exactly that which I fear in order to improve.
I need to do some crosswind landing practice with an instructor. If I can get the hang of that, I won't be as attached to the ground and I will be able to handle a windy landing if I find myself at another airport where conditions are different.
Although Namao is cheaper, which is partly why I went there, money isn't everything and I can still fly at Cooking Lake where I am more familiar. I have to fly once a month at Namao to stay current but I can always do a few extra flights at my home airport so I can get used to being a pilot without adding another layer of stress.
I can fly with other pilots! Both of my ground school classmates that I mentioned are interested in flying with me so we can learn from each other and offer each other some security.
I just have to keep at it. Underneath it all, I love flying and I want to get better at this! I now have some ideas to make the transition easier. One step at a time.
I noticed this acutely when I planned to fly my dad to Barrhead from Villeneuve, a 30 NM flight, on August 23. As is my custom, I obsessed about the weather, mainly the winds, the day before, and in the morning, I became quite concerned that the crosswind would be too much for me to handle upon landing in Barrhead. Dad and I drove out to the airport but I was so stressed on the way, thinking of all of ways that this planned flight was overwhelming me. Besides the wind, this was going to be my first flight as PIC in one of the Namao planes, which were still somewhat unfamiliar to me. To top it off, my reservation had been transferred to a different plane than the one I had booked, one that I had never flown (this was done because my plane was too close to its hours for its next maintenance). It was just too much. I didn't think I could do it. Once at the airport, I confirmed that the winds were fairly strong, about 12 knots, which isn't that bad but it's too much for me if it's a crosswind. Dad was unconcerned at first but when he realized how much uncertainty I was faced with, he suggested that we fly but we just do circuits at Villeneuve, where we could have an into-the-wind runway. I was greatly relieved by that suggestion. The club manager gave me a briefing on the equipment differences in the airplane I was assigned. Feeling like it was all more manageable, we did go and do some circuits. It all went very well in the end. I was able to fly that plane and handle that wind.
So, I should know from that experience that I don't need to worry and stress as much as I do. But it seems that as time goes on, I am increasingly afraid to fly. I don't trust myself. It's very easy for me to be hard on myself and judge myself. Sometimes I wonder if I just suck as a pilot. But, I did really well on my flight test. My Namao instructor was complimentary, too. My dad thinks I'm OK. So I must be OK! Interestingly, my Namao instructor said he really enjoyed flying with me when I was a brand new pilot because he has a particular interest in helping people make the leap from student pilot to licensed pilot. I've since thought back on that; obviously this transition is a thing. Also, it's interesting that once you start to admit your worries to others, they are free to admit theirs, and then you both know that you aren't just awful at it when everyone else is great. I admitted my insecurities to a couple of fellow pilots just this week. One of them, a guy in my commerical ground school class has been a pilot for a few months and he started telling me stories of silly things he's done. It was so reassuring and validating. Another is a friend from my private pilot ground school class, who told me that he still feels especially pleased when he does a good landing. So rather than beat myself up, I am trying to analyze and understand this situation so I can do something constructive to remedy it.
First of all, I complicated things for myself when I joined Namao. The planes are different and the airspace is more complex there and it's still new.
Second, I am not comfortable with crosswind landings and that has a huge influence on how comfortable I feel taking off in the first place.
Third, I am a new pilot. I just haven't seen a lot or had to deal with that much yet so not knowing what each flight will bring is a bit stressful.
What can I do about this? Well, I have to keep flying. I can't run away from it because it's a challenge right now. Thinking back to the fear I felt before I did my first solo flight away from the airport, I know that I have to do it anyway and that I have to do exactly that which I fear in order to improve.
I need to do some crosswind landing practice with an instructor. If I can get the hang of that, I won't be as attached to the ground and I will be able to handle a windy landing if I find myself at another airport where conditions are different.
Although Namao is cheaper, which is partly why I went there, money isn't everything and I can still fly at Cooking Lake where I am more familiar. I have to fly once a month at Namao to stay current but I can always do a few extra flights at my home airport so I can get used to being a pilot without adding another layer of stress.
I can fly with other pilots! Both of my ground school classmates that I mentioned are interested in flying with me so we can learn from each other and offer each other some security.
I just have to keep at it. Underneath it all, I love flying and I want to get better at this! I now have some ideas to make the transition easier. One step at a time.
Commercial ground school
My flight school is running commercial ground school classes this fall and I decided to sign up! The first class was on Monday. There are four of us. Tonight was the second class. On Wednesdays, we join with the much larger private pilot ground school class, since half of what we do is review. The people are very friendly. One of my commercial classmates owns a Cessna 340 - a big, corporate-sized twin engine - so we went over to his hangar after class to see it. He's going to give us rides - often! Another of my classmates is a new pilot as well, and we are going to fly together sometime. I think this is going to be a very positive experience.
I am 55 years old and most people get into aviation as a career when they are much younger. However, there is a terrible shortage of commercial pilots right now and that makes this a good time for me to consider a flying career of some sort, even as a retirement job in years to come. Who knows? Maybe I can fly a float plane someday or teach others to fly. At the very least, these classes will teach me more and make me a better pilot. It will most likely take me a couple of years to get a commercial license but that's fine with me. I'm flying anyway!
I am 55 years old and most people get into aviation as a career when they are much younger. However, there is a terrible shortage of commercial pilots right now and that makes this a good time for me to consider a flying career of some sort, even as a retirement job in years to come. Who knows? Maybe I can fly a float plane someday or teach others to fly. At the very least, these classes will teach me more and make me a better pilot. It will most likely take me a couple of years to get a commercial license but that's fine with me. I'm flying anyway!
Night
My awesome instructor moved on to a new job about two weeks before I did my flight test. I spent the last couple weeks flying with the chief flight instructor anyway for my flight test prep and I was just grateful that my instructor had been able to see me through my lessons. For a month he flew with a company up north and then he got scooped up by a regional airline and moved to the coast. Even though I was finished my lessons, I was sad to see him go. I was very happy, then, to have a chance to fly with him again at the end of July. It was partly just an excuse to fly together and partly a chance for me to get familiar with the one plane at my flight school that was different and I had never flown. We decided to make it my first night lesson to make it even more worth it.
Wow! It is fabulous to fly at night! It's so calm and peaceful. On this night, we took off just at sunset so we could watch the transition to night from the air. We didn't do anything complicated but it gave me a chance to experience the different perspective and feeling of flying in the dark. Perhaps the conditions made it so but we were both feeling a bit philosophical and we talked about how amazing flying is and what it teaches you about life.
It was a pleasure and a treat to have another chance to fly with my instructor and it was truly a surreal experience to be flying at night.
We have tried twice since then to schedule another night lesson but it has been too complicated for him to manage now that he has another job. This evening, after the second attempt to book something, we realized that this is probably not going to work out anymore. He is moving onward and upward and so am I, both of us into new adventures. My night lessons will continue with another instructor.
Smoke gets in your eyes
Every flight is a learning experience and this one was quite unique! Today, my dad and I flew to Camrose, just to land and come back. It's just 20 minutes in the air one way. We had planned to go to Vegreville but when I checked the NOTAMs (notices), I found that the Vegreville airport was closed for the day. So, I pulled out my map and quickly checked the headings for Camrose instead. Once we took off, it turned out to be very, very smoky, due to the extensive forest fires in BC. If I had not had a GPS and had had to rely on my map for navigation, I probably would have turned back. Visibility was about 3 miles. I suppose I could have done it because I could have made sure I held my heading and gone from lake to lake until I was there but I felt much better setting the GPS for Camrose and following the line. Despite the smoke, I was actually able to spot the airport at Camrose fairly easily since coming in to there from Cooking Lake, you're pretty much looking straight down the runway. I find it awkward to join the circuit at Camrose because of the arrival path so I ended up doing a pretty crummy circuit at Camrose but still a beautiful landing. Heading home, I set the GPS again but could see Cooking Lake well enough in advance because it's a pretty big lake. Coming back, I did a beautiful circuit but a bouncy landing. Oh well. You can't win them all and everything is learning. This short flight taught me a lot!
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| Joseph Lake in the smoke, midway between Camrose and Cooking Lake |
Pilot-in-command
So far, my flights as pilot-in-command (since getting my license) have been with my dad on board. Although he doesn't get involved, it gives me a sense of security to have him there. But I definitely have to get used to being the only pilot on board! Tonight I had a chance to do that. I took my friend up for a local flight, just to bomb around the Cooking Lake area. It was a lovely evening and we had fun. He was a bit nervous, more about flying than about flying with me, but it meant a lot to me that he was willing to take the chance on flying with a new pilot. I was able to relax and enjoy the flight, which is still hard to do since I still have to concentrate a lot of what I'm doing. We were up for just under an hour. He loved it and so did I!
A new club
I absolutely loved my flight school (Cooking Lake Aviation) and I wouldn't change a single thing about the experience I had there. In addition to flight training, they also rent their airplanes and so I intend to carry on out there as I build my hours as a pilot. They have very nice, fairly new Cessna 172s with beautiful Garmin 1000 digital avionics, and they do all the work of fueling and moving the planes to get them ready for you. However, renting an airplane is very expensive so I have been thinking about ways to reduce my costs.
Last month, I went out to pay a visit to the Namao Flying Club out at Villeneuve airport on the northwest side of the city. It's a little farther away for me but their rental rates are the lowest of anywhere around here so I wanted to check it out to see if it would be an option for me. In addition to saving me some money, flying out of that club/airport offers me experience in controlled airspace (Villeneuve is a controlled airport) and a chance to fly older planes with analog instruments and carbureted engines, which is more like real life when buying one's own airplane, in case I ever decide to do that.
Namao has four Cessna 172s. As well, thinking ahead, they also have a Mooney M20D, which is a faster single engine with retractable gear and a constant speed propeller, two things that would be new for me and would be the next step up for me once I gain some more experience. Way down the road, they also have a twin engine Piper I could learn to fly if I do a multi-engine rating. I was impressed by my visit there so I signed up for membership in the club.
Since then, I've done 3 flights with an instructor there because an initial checkout on type is required to be able to fly their planes. The checkout was like a mini flight test so I was glad that was still fairly fresh in my mind. The instructor I flew with was awesome and gave me some great tips and helped me feel comfortable in these planes, which are a bit different than what I'm used to.
For the first flight, we did upper air exercises like stalls and steep turns.
The second time I flew with him, I had to demonstrate an emergency landing. He surprised me by pulling the power back to idle, which mimics an engine failure and makes the plane descend fairly quickly. The closest field for me to choose was a canola field right below me. I maneuvered the plane down to it. We didn't actually land but for a transcendent and beautiful moment, just before I gave it power and went back up, we were flying quietly and slowly just above all that canola and my vision was filled with yellow. It was amazing!
My third flight with him was yesterday; we went to the nearby Parkland airport to do circuits. He told me that I fly well and my landings are safe so I am now free to fly their 172s to my heart's content.
Last month, I went out to pay a visit to the Namao Flying Club out at Villeneuve airport on the northwest side of the city. It's a little farther away for me but their rental rates are the lowest of anywhere around here so I wanted to check it out to see if it would be an option for me. In addition to saving me some money, flying out of that club/airport offers me experience in controlled airspace (Villeneuve is a controlled airport) and a chance to fly older planes with analog instruments and carbureted engines, which is more like real life when buying one's own airplane, in case I ever decide to do that.
Namao has four Cessna 172s. As well, thinking ahead, they also have a Mooney M20D, which is a faster single engine with retractable gear and a constant speed propeller, two things that would be new for me and would be the next step up for me once I gain some more experience. Way down the road, they also have a twin engine Piper I could learn to fly if I do a multi-engine rating. I was impressed by my visit there so I signed up for membership in the club.
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| All the planes were inside the hangar when I visited! |
For the first flight, we did upper air exercises like stalls and steep turns.
The second time I flew with him, I had to demonstrate an emergency landing. He surprised me by pulling the power back to idle, which mimics an engine failure and makes the plane descend fairly quickly. The closest field for me to choose was a canola field right below me. I maneuvered the plane down to it. We didn't actually land but for a transcendent and beautiful moment, just before I gave it power and went back up, we were flying quietly and slowly just above all that canola and my vision was filled with yellow. It was amazing!
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| Flying over beautiful canola fields north of Villeneuve Airport |
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| Beautiful day over Parkland county, south of Villeneuve |
A little trip
About 30 nautical miles to the south/southwest of Cooking Lake is a town called Wetaskiwin, which is the home of the Reynolds Museum, a world-renowned transportation, aviation, and agricultural machinery museum. It happens to be immediately adjacent to the airport so it's handy to fly in and walk over. So, today, I flew my dad and my son down there to pay a visit.
We were only at the museum for an hour but we managed to have a quick look at almost every exhibit. It's very well done; I was very impressed! I would highly recommend it.
It turned out to be a stellar day so the flight was smooth and beautiful. As a new pilot, this was another chance for me to practice cross-country skills and an arrival at an unfamiliar airport. The flight went well, except for a mistake in my heading calculation, which I corrected when I realized that my track wasn't quite matching the line I had drawn on the map! I was able to see Wetaskiwin from a fair distance out and had no trouble locating the airport. The flight home was more relaxed because I could see Cooking Lake almost as soon as I took off so I just flew there. This was a fun day. It's pretty neat to just hop in a plane and fly off somewhere!
We were only at the museum for an hour but we managed to have a quick look at almost every exhibit. It's very well done; I was very impressed! I would highly recommend it.
It turned out to be a stellar day so the flight was smooth and beautiful. As a new pilot, this was another chance for me to practice cross-country skills and an arrival at an unfamiliar airport. The flight went well, except for a mistake in my heading calculation, which I corrected when I realized that my track wasn't quite matching the line I had drawn on the map! I was able to see Wetaskiwin from a fair distance out and had no trouble locating the airport. The flight home was more relaxed because I could see Cooking Lake almost as soon as I took off so I just flew there. This was a fun day. It's pretty neat to just hop in a plane and fly off somewhere!
My first passenger
I took my first passenger up today. My dad is a pilot and I spent my whole life flying with him so it was an honour and a thrill for me to take him up on my first flight as a licensed pilot. He wanted to do circuits with me since it's "the biggest bang for my buck." We did six. It's a lovely day today. My circuits were sharp and my landings were good. Glad I could pull it off with him in the plane with me! He barely said a word but he really enjoyed it and I could tell he was proud of me. So cool.
I am a pilot!
I took my flight test two days ago and I passed! I am a licensed private pilot!
That was stressful! Everything you know has to come together in one shot! You don't have to be perfect but you have one chance to demonstrate each skill so you have to get it pretty close the first time. The test begins with a circuit to demonstrate a specialty take-off and landing. I was asked to do a short field take-off and then he let me choose the landing so I opted for the soft field. That went well.
After that, we departed for the cross-country/navigation demonstration. The night before, I had to prepare a flight plan for a trip that we would start on during the test. I was happy with my departure procedure and I was bang on track at the first checkpoint, where I had to calculate my ground speed and ETA. Then we stopped that exercise and headed toward the practice area. The rest of the test included stalls, steeps turns, slow flight, slipping, instrument flying with the hood on so you can't see outside, emergency and precautionary landings, and diversions. My instrument time wasn't ideal because I didn't have the plane trimmed up nicely so I didn't hold my altitude as well as I could have. Everything else was good, I thought, but I didn't know what my marks were. The examiner was kind and fair but I was still pretty intimidated! On the 10 minute flight back to the airport, we chatted about this and that. I did a nice landing and taxied back to the flight school hangar. After I had shut down, he said, "Well, Sarah..." - eternal pause, my heart was pounding - "....Congratulations! That was a nice flight test." I threw my head back and let out a big sigh! What a relief! What a thrill! When I went inside to do the log books, everyone in the office congratulated me and I actually jumped up and down with excitement.
Today I went out to the airport again to get my temporary license signed and to see my instructor, who was not at the airport during my test (he was, in fact, flying up north that day, and heard me on the radio during my flight test). He was very pleased for me and proud of me. He is the most awesome instructor I ever could have had. This was a great day. I did it!
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| This is the plane I flew for the test |
After that, we departed for the cross-country/navigation demonstration. The night before, I had to prepare a flight plan for a trip that we would start on during the test. I was happy with my departure procedure and I was bang on track at the first checkpoint, where I had to calculate my ground speed and ETA. Then we stopped that exercise and headed toward the practice area. The rest of the test included stalls, steeps turns, slow flight, slipping, instrument flying with the hood on so you can't see outside, emergency and precautionary landings, and diversions. My instrument time wasn't ideal because I didn't have the plane trimmed up nicely so I didn't hold my altitude as well as I could have. Everything else was good, I thought, but I didn't know what my marks were. The examiner was kind and fair but I was still pretty intimidated! On the 10 minute flight back to the airport, we chatted about this and that. I did a nice landing and taxied back to the flight school hangar. After I had shut down, he said, "Well, Sarah..." - eternal pause, my heart was pounding - "....Congratulations! That was a nice flight test." I threw my head back and let out a big sigh! What a relief! What a thrill! When I went inside to do the log books, everyone in the office congratulated me and I actually jumped up and down with excitement.
Today I went out to the airport again to get my temporary license signed and to see my instructor, who was not at the airport during my test (he was, in fact, flying up north that day, and heard me on the radio during my flight test). He was very pleased for me and proud of me. He is the most awesome instructor I ever could have had. This was a great day. I did it!
"Don't let that plane land!"
June was my last month of training. I spent some time with my instructor, reviewing emergency landings and some of the other maneuvers I will have to demonstrate on my flight test, and I did my last hour of required solo time. I feel good about most skills but I have struggled with landings all along and, for most of this month, was still not quite getting the feel for it. I did a practice flight test with the chief flight instructor just to see if I was ready for the real thing. Other than messing up the steep turn like I never have before, the ride was a good one, except for the landings! I have to do two landings for the flight test, including a specialty landing (special techniques for short runways or grass runways), and I can't blow the whole thing because I mess up the landing!
I have done well over 100 circuits to practice landings and watched many YouTube videos about how to land a plane. My ground school instructor jokingly explained to us that a good landing is when you can walk away from it and a great landing is when you can use the plane again. By that definition, they've all been great but they sure haven't all been pretty and a couple were quite marginal!
I am not patient and I tend to try to overcontrol the flow of life. I can strategize and put a good plan in place to reach my goals but I just do not have patience for the process or the journey. These personal characteristics are exactly why landing the plane was hard for me.
A good landing depends on a good approach. That part of it has never been hard for me. I got the hang of the circuit right away and have almost always been able to set up a nice, stable approach and put myself in position for the landing. But it would all fall apart in those last, critical 15 seconds when the plane is right over the runway, just about to touch down.
In those last few seconds, the landing depends on two things: patience and perspective. As you pass over the numbers at the end of the runway, you have to shift your gaze from close to far, and look way down to the end of the runway, gradually raising the nose of the plane as it nears the ground. This is called the flare. These adjustments require patience. Ironically, the point of the action the pilot takes in these moments is to try to hold the plane off the runway, instead of trying to put it down, so that it can slow down and slide itself in. My ground school instructor told us that if we spoke the words, "Patience, patience, patience" to ourselves while in the flare, then that would allow the time it took for the plane to be ready to stop flying. One instructor I flew with said, "Don't let that plane land!" He taught me that NOT trying to land the plane is what actually makes it land.
I did it wrong so many times during my training. I tried to flare too forcefully and too soon and then push the plane down onto the runway in my eagerness to be there. I kept my eyes on the nose of the plane instead of taking the long view down the runway so I could see the subtle changes in the process and make the adjustments needed to ease it in. My rush to be there led to some hard landings, bouncing back up and down again, because I was not waiting for it to come together and for the timing to be right. You cannot make a plane land. It has to be ready. The pilot's job is to get it ready.
The time it takes to land is not long but it's a period of time where time seems to stand still. A lot of happening in those seconds but it is happening by itself in a way, enabled by a patient, focused, and skilled pilot. The pilot is very much in control of what happens yet must also be willing to wait for the plane's own timing. Some days, the plane seems to float forever, eating up the runway, not touching down. Those situations test a pilot's patience more than ever but it is even more important.
Clearly, this is instructive for life in general. When I finally realized that I have to wait and take a long view, I got it. I stopped trying so hard. It worked. I landed the plane. Five, then ten "greasy" landings. And quite suddenly, my fear of landings dissipated, in much the same as as the airspeed bleeds off during the flare. I have to say that this revelation is still quite new for me. I still worry about landing. I still have to embed this lesson into myself. But I see it differently now. I know now how I need to view this to make it work.
Patience. Trust the time it takes to come together. Take a different perspective. This doesn't mean being passive; you have to stay focused on the goal, be an active part of the process, and make adjustments to ease the transition, but in the end, not pushing so hard will make it work out much better than forcing it.
As I reflect on my landing woes over the last six months, I can see that learning to land a plane has been perhaps one of my greatest life lessons and one of the most dramatic examples of how flying is a metaphor for life.
I have done well over 100 circuits to practice landings and watched many YouTube videos about how to land a plane. My ground school instructor jokingly explained to us that a good landing is when you can walk away from it and a great landing is when you can use the plane again. By that definition, they've all been great but they sure haven't all been pretty and a couple were quite marginal!
I am not patient and I tend to try to overcontrol the flow of life. I can strategize and put a good plan in place to reach my goals but I just do not have patience for the process or the journey. These personal characteristics are exactly why landing the plane was hard for me.
A good landing depends on a good approach. That part of it has never been hard for me. I got the hang of the circuit right away and have almost always been able to set up a nice, stable approach and put myself in position for the landing. But it would all fall apart in those last, critical 15 seconds when the plane is right over the runway, just about to touch down.
In those last few seconds, the landing depends on two things: patience and perspective. As you pass over the numbers at the end of the runway, you have to shift your gaze from close to far, and look way down to the end of the runway, gradually raising the nose of the plane as it nears the ground. This is called the flare. These adjustments require patience. Ironically, the point of the action the pilot takes in these moments is to try to hold the plane off the runway, instead of trying to put it down, so that it can slow down and slide itself in. My ground school instructor told us that if we spoke the words, "Patience, patience, patience" to ourselves while in the flare, then that would allow the time it took for the plane to be ready to stop flying. One instructor I flew with said, "Don't let that plane land!" He taught me that NOT trying to land the plane is what actually makes it land.
I did it wrong so many times during my training. I tried to flare too forcefully and too soon and then push the plane down onto the runway in my eagerness to be there. I kept my eyes on the nose of the plane instead of taking the long view down the runway so I could see the subtle changes in the process and make the adjustments needed to ease it in. My rush to be there led to some hard landings, bouncing back up and down again, because I was not waiting for it to come together and for the timing to be right. You cannot make a plane land. It has to be ready. The pilot's job is to get it ready.
The time it takes to land is not long but it's a period of time where time seems to stand still. A lot of happening in those seconds but it is happening by itself in a way, enabled by a patient, focused, and skilled pilot. The pilot is very much in control of what happens yet must also be willing to wait for the plane's own timing. Some days, the plane seems to float forever, eating up the runway, not touching down. Those situations test a pilot's patience more than ever but it is even more important.
Clearly, this is instructive for life in general. When I finally realized that I have to wait and take a long view, I got it. I stopped trying so hard. It worked. I landed the plane. Five, then ten "greasy" landings. And quite suddenly, my fear of landings dissipated, in much the same as as the airspeed bleeds off during the flare. I have to say that this revelation is still quite new for me. I still worry about landing. I still have to embed this lesson into myself. But I see it differently now. I know now how I need to view this to make it work.
Patience. Trust the time it takes to come together. Take a different perspective. This doesn't mean being passive; you have to stay focused on the goal, be an active part of the process, and make adjustments to ease the transition, but in the end, not pushing so hard will make it work out much better than forcing it.
As I reflect on my landing woes over the last six months, I can see that learning to land a plane has been perhaps one of my greatest life lessons and one of the most dramatic examples of how flying is a metaphor for life.
Seaplane
This weekend, I went to Victoria, BC to visit a friend. I had only booked my flight as far as Vancouver so my timing could be flexible but the day before I left, I decided to take the seaplane from Vancouver to Victoria. There's a seaplane base next to Vancouver International (YVR) and you arrive right into Victoria harbour. It's very convenient and I thought it would be a fun experience.
On the shuttle from YVR to the seaplane, I asked the driver how many seats the plane had. She said it depends on whether you count the one next to the pilot. I asked how you get to be the one who sits next to the pilot, thinking that for sure it involved paying more money. "You just ask the pilot!" she said.
I waited to see the pilot of my flight and then made sure I was first in line to ask him if I could sit up front with him (as it was, nobody else was vying for the right seat). He said yes!
He was really great. He pointed out landmarks, explained the complicated airspace in that area, and told me who he was talking to on the radio throughout the flight.
As we approached Victoria, he remarked how beautiful the view was and said, "It never gets old. Flying is divine." So true.
I took the seaplane back to Vancouver on my trip home, too, and sat in the cockpit with the pilot once again. This was an incredible experience that made quite an impression on me! I can see myself flying a float plane someday....
On the shuttle from YVR to the seaplane, I asked the driver how many seats the plane had. She said it depends on whether you count the one next to the pilot. I asked how you get to be the one who sits next to the pilot, thinking that for sure it involved paying more money. "You just ask the pilot!" she said.
I waited to see the pilot of my flight and then made sure I was first in line to ask him if I could sit up front with him (as it was, nobody else was vying for the right seat). He said yes!
He was really great. He pointed out landmarks, explained the complicated airspace in that area, and told me who he was talking to on the radio throughout the flight.
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| Over the gulf islands |
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| Over Victoria |
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| On approach into Victoria harbour |
The other side
One of the perks of being a pilot is that you can usually find a way to arrange a visit to a control tower. This morning, I was able to have a tour of the new and beautiful tower at the international airport. As I climbed the stairs, I could not believe the amazing panoramic views of the prairies from up there. Absolutely stunning!
One of the controllers spent 40 minutes with me, explaining their systems and the ways they coordinate traffic flows and communications among aircraft, the terminal zone, tower, approach/departure, and ground. It was fascinating to see how this works from the other side and to have this perspective on air traffic.
One of the controllers spent 40 minutes with me, explaining their systems and the ways they coordinate traffic flows and communications among aircraft, the terminal zone, tower, approach/departure, and ground. It was fascinating to see how this works from the other side and to have this perspective on air traffic.
The long cross-country 2.0 - Solo
For my short cross-country flight, I ended up having to wait two months between the time I did it dual (Feb 24) and my chance to do it solo (Apr 29), thanks to bad weather. But this time, for my long cross-country, I only had to wait a week! The weather's been nice lately so I was able to head off alone on Friday, while the experience of last week's dual flight was still fresh.
I reversed the route we did last week so that the navigation was still a challenge and I'd have to approach the destination airports from different angles.
I got clearance into the terminal control zone a few minutes after taking off, this time heading over the very south end of city, just a few miles north of the international airport. The controller asked me to turn from my southwesterly heading to a northerly heading, to make room for some traffic on approach to the international. That little deviation from course didn't concern me since I was still over the city and there were many landmarks to get me back on track.
I was cleared enroute west of the international and by then I was halfway to Drayton Valley, which is 67 NM from my home airport. I passed over a large power plant - easy to spot - and then followed the river in.
I saw the town and airport from a long way off. My landing was fine. I recorded my times, texted my instructor, and taxied back to the threshold for take-off. There was nobody on the ground at the DV airport but there were helicopters in the area and someone passing just across my climbout path so I waited for the traffic to clear and then pushed in the throttle!
Two things make it very easy to navigate the 60 NM flight from Drayton Valley to Whitecourt: A huge lake and a big hill at the end. Chip Lake is halfway so I aimed for it first. The terrain is rolling but still mostly prairie so the big hill stands out as a great landmark. The Whitecourt airport is tucked right behind it.
Whitecourt airport has a Mandatory Frequency, which means that you talk to a radio operator on the ground, who is not an air traffic controller but provides information and helps incoming pilots coordinate their arrivals. I contacted Whitecourt Radio when I was 15 NM out. About the same time, a somewhat pushy and obnoxious pilot, incoming from the south as well but a few miles west of me, contacted the MF. He misunderstood a question the MF operator asked and then was rude to him, as if it were the radio operator's fault. His radio transmissions were a little unclear so when he was asked to repeat himself, he spoke deliberately slowly, like he was talking to someone he thought was stupid. Anyway, we were going to be arriving at nearly the same time so I was focused on being sure I knew where he was in relation to me.
Circuits are flown counter-clockwise (left hand) unless otherwise noted and circuits on Runway 29 at Whitecourt are right-hand. The rude pilot did not know that and was not listening when told that. So I made the approach with a right-hand circuit and he announced that he intended to join left-hand. I was concerned that we were on a collision course on the base leg, the leg of the circuit just before turning final. I announced my position in the RIGHT hand circuit a couple of times to Whitecourt Radio but the other pilot never clued in and didn't announce his location as he approached. I kept my eyes peeled but didn't see him before I turned final. Meanwhile, it was windy there and flying the circuit was like riding a bronco so I was holding on tight while avoiding the traffic! I made it to the runway, greased the landing!, and taxied over to the terminal. Mr. Rude Pilot landed a minute after me.
By this time, I was over two hours into the trip so I needed to stretch and pee. I went into the little terminal and rested on the couch for 10 minutes. I called flight services to amend my flight plan since I had stayed on the ground longer than expected and then hopped in my plane for the last leg.
The leg between Whitecourt and Cooking Lake was the longest of the trip, at 104 NM. I decided not to bother with the overhead departure procedure, which makes it easier to set an accurate heading, because half of the flight home follows a major highway. So I climbed out, lined up with the highway and set my heading then. I checked the map from time to time since the highway weaves a bit, of course, just to be sure I was in line with other landmarks. It was very bumpy but it didn't bother me and I took some time to enjoy the beautiful views. I was feeling pretty relaxed.
As I approached the city, I got clearance to transition across the control zone, and was then cleared to descend into Cooking Lake as I left the city on the east side. My total flight time was 3.6 hours (231 NM). I was exhausted when I landed but definitely thrilled. The flight went very well. It's hard to believe that I just did that when I think back to the out-of-body experience of my first lesson, when I just had to fly straight and level for 2 minutes. A lot of the time, I still feel nervous and so novice but this flight showed me that I have learned a lot and I am becoming a pilot!
I reversed the route we did last week so that the navigation was still a challenge and I'd have to approach the destination airports from different angles.
I got clearance into the terminal control zone a few minutes after taking off, this time heading over the very south end of city, just a few miles north of the international airport. The controller asked me to turn from my southwesterly heading to a northerly heading, to make room for some traffic on approach to the international. That little deviation from course didn't concern me since I was still over the city and there were many landmarks to get me back on track.
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| Between city and international airport |
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| West of Edmonton, enroute to Drayton Valley |
Two things make it very easy to navigate the 60 NM flight from Drayton Valley to Whitecourt: A huge lake and a big hill at the end. Chip Lake is halfway so I aimed for it first. The terrain is rolling but still mostly prairie so the big hill stands out as a great landmark. The Whitecourt airport is tucked right behind it.
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| Chip Lake |
Circuits are flown counter-clockwise (left hand) unless otherwise noted and circuits on Runway 29 at Whitecourt are right-hand. The rude pilot did not know that and was not listening when told that. So I made the approach with a right-hand circuit and he announced that he intended to join left-hand. I was concerned that we were on a collision course on the base leg, the leg of the circuit just before turning final. I announced my position in the RIGHT hand circuit a couple of times to Whitecourt Radio but the other pilot never clued in and didn't announce his location as he approached. I kept my eyes peeled but didn't see him before I turned final. Meanwhile, it was windy there and flying the circuit was like riding a bronco so I was holding on tight while avoiding the traffic! I made it to the runway, greased the landing!, and taxied over to the terminal. Mr. Rude Pilot landed a minute after me.
By this time, I was over two hours into the trip so I needed to stretch and pee. I went into the little terminal and rested on the couch for 10 minutes. I called flight services to amend my flight plan since I had stayed on the ground longer than expected and then hopped in my plane for the last leg.
The leg between Whitecourt and Cooking Lake was the longest of the trip, at 104 NM. I decided not to bother with the overhead departure procedure, which makes it easier to set an accurate heading, because half of the flight home follows a major highway. So I climbed out, lined up with the highway and set my heading then. I checked the map from time to time since the highway weaves a bit, of course, just to be sure I was in line with other landmarks. It was very bumpy but it didn't bother me and I took some time to enjoy the beautiful views. I was feeling pretty relaxed.
As I approached the city, I got clearance to transition across the control zone, and was then cleared to descend into Cooking Lake as I left the city on the east side. My total flight time was 3.6 hours (231 NM). I was exhausted when I landed but definitely thrilled. The flight went very well. It's hard to believe that I just did that when I think back to the out-of-body experience of my first lesson, when I just had to fly straight and level for 2 minutes. A lot of the time, I still feel nervous and so novice but this flight showed me that I have learned a lot and I am becoming a pilot!
Onward and upward: The long cross-country
Today, my instructor and I did the second of the required cross-country flights. This was the long cross-country, which has to be a triangular route of a minimum of 150 nautical miles; this flight was 230 NM. We went west over the city, first to Whitecourt and then to Drayton Valley. I chose the route because it would take us through the Edmonton terminal control zone and give me some experience talking to air traffic control.
It was a gorgeous day and a beautiful route. The prairies are very green right now. Heading west, the terrain becomes a little hillier and eventually the mountains appear in the distance. We took a short break in Whitecourt and then went on to Drayton Valley.
I really like my instructor, which is nice when you spend hours in a tiny cockpit together. We both had fun and enjoyed the day and the flight went without a hitch. I will do this by myself next week. I'm ready.
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| East side of Edmonton, just after departing Cooking Lake |
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| Over downtown at 4000' above ground |
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| Leaving Whitecourt |
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| Almost home - Cooking Lake on the horizon |
Solo cross-country OR I flew the plane a long way by myself
The skies were wild and crazy today so it wasn't a day I would have imagined doing my first solo cross-country trip. In fact, when I got to the airport, the ceilings were quite low and we had to watch and wait to see if the flight would be a go.
I have to admit, I had mixed feelings about whether I wanted it to clear up, although I wasn't terribly nervous. But there I was, already at the airport, and I knew I had to do the flight if I ever wanted to be a pilot. Eventually, the lower cloud layer did start to clear off and it seemed more likely that I could go.
The plan today was for me to fly the route in the opposite direction to when my instructor and I did it way back in February. So, the decision was made that I would go and I got in the plane to head for Camrose. The flight to Camrose is about 20 minutes long, once you're up. The weather looked wild all around me but, except for some turbulence, it was really no issue. Navigating was no problem because there's a big lake at the halfway point, which is easy to see right after departure and then once you're at that lake, you can see Camrose, a small city, in the distance. The airport at Camrose was quiet and my landing was a beauty. I texted my instructor to tell him that I had landed. He told me he was proud of me! I got a bit choked up at that!
I taxied back down to the hold short line of the active runway and recorded my times. Then I looked up at the sky in the direction of Vegreville, my next destination:
I didn't think that looked so good! I texted my instructor again and sent him this picture. He told me to take off and see what it looked like and come back to Cooking Lake if I had to. So I took off and set my heading but as it turned out, this ugly mass of clouds was just to the west of my track. It wasn't too bad along my direct path.
My biggest challenge on that leg was spotting a massive flock of migratory birds about 3 miles ahead of me and wondering whether I'd have to deviate around them. Thankfully, they were out of my way in time! When I got to Vegreville, I couldn't find the airport, although Vegreville is a small town and I knew the airport was on the northeast side. I circled and finally saw it. I had a bit of a crosswind there so the landing was slightly off but safe and OK. Again I recorded my numbers, checked in with my instructor, and taxied back down for the take-off.
Just as I pushed in the power for the take-off, I had a fleeting thought that I had forgotten my line-up checks, a quick review of all the systems to be sure they were all good. Unfortunately, that meant I took off with 20 degrees of flaps (which I had forgotten to retract after landing), which makes it pretty tricky to climb out and hold the airspeed since the flaps create drag. I got the flaps up and the plane started to climb better! Relief! Slightly freaky moment.
I had some blue sky on the last leg so it was a nice flight, although I had to stay a little lower to avoid clouds and rain. It seemed like no time at all and I was landing back at Cooking Lake, with 105 nautical miles (195 km) covered and 2 more hours of solo flight time done!
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| Waiting out some pretty ugly weather |
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| Looks like it's clearing up |
I taxied back down to the hold short line of the active runway and recorded my times. Then I looked up at the sky in the direction of Vegreville, my next destination:
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| On the ground in Camrose, looking northeast. I'm going that way! |
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| Between Camrose and Vegreville, 2000' above ground |
Just as I pushed in the power for the take-off, I had a fleeting thought that I had forgotten my line-up checks, a quick review of all the systems to be sure they were all good. Unfortunately, that meant I took off with 20 degrees of flaps (which I had forgotten to retract after landing), which makes it pretty tricky to climb out and hold the airspeed since the flaps create drag. I got the flaps up and the plane started to climb better! Relief! Slightly freaky moment.
I had some blue sky on the last leg so it was a nice flight, although I had to stay a little lower to avoid clouds and rain. It seemed like no time at all and I was landing back at Cooking Lake, with 105 nautical miles (195 km) covered and 2 more hours of solo flight time done!
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| Heading home to Cooking Lake from Vegreville |
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