Annoyance and gratitude

Usually I fly Cessna 172s at my flight school/flying club but, just to mix things up, I bought some time on a Cessna 150 at another local airport and I spent a few hours in it over the winter. My flying club is closed because of the coronavirus so I haven't flown at all for 4 weeks but today I was able to get up in the 150 again. It's a self-serve operation and I can come and go on my own so it works for these times.

It was a beautiful sunny day (even if it's STILL winter) but it was pretty windy and the flight was quite turbulent. You feel it even more in the 150 because it's so light. I was eager to get back in the air again after so long and it made me a bit mad that it had to be so windy on the day of my booking. I debated whether I'd even go but figured I shouldn't let the opportunity pass.

It was icy on the taxiways and the wind made the plane skate around. Annoying. There was wind shear on the climbout. Annoying. It was annoyingly bumpy at altitude, as I made my way toward the practice area. By the time I got there, I didn't feel like working on any exercises because it just wasn't pleasant. I was feeling very disappointed about the whole flight. So I circled around and headed back toward the airport. I had to wrestle the plane down to the runway (but the landing was a beauty lol). When I was refueling, the wind caught the last drops of fuel from the hose and blew it into my face. By the time I got out of the plane, I was shaken and irritated. It wasn't as windy or bumpy as a lot of flights I've done but this just wasn't what I needed today. But as I tucked the cute little plane back in the hangar, filled out the aircraft journey log, and then looked at the pictures I had taken (a couple of the door handle because of the bumps), I knew how incredibly fortunate I was to have done such an amazing and wondrous thing, how lucky I was to have that plane to fly, how good it was to be in the air again to see the beauty and practice my skills.

The annoyance didn't fade away; it was a miserable flight! But I was able to reflect on the privilege and gratitude that was also part of the day. I believe these seemingly opposite perspectives can co-exist. We can be grateful for experiences and seize what they offer while also being disappointed that we cannot have what we had hoped for. This is a metaphor for these times. I will cry and stomp my feet and be annoyed about what has been taken from me AND I will remember to be grateful for what this time will show me and teach me and for the ways that it will change my plans.

Flying always teaches me about life.

Right seat dreams

I decided that it might be a good idea to get a flight instructor rating so I could teaching flying as a way to enter the world of commercial flying. My first job ended up being skydiving flying (see earlier post) but I have been working toward being an instructor since June 2019. I picked away at it over the summer but have focused much more earnestly on it since last October.

It's been weird. Flying from the right seat takes getting used to. I felt very disoriented at first, feeling like we were going to crash on landing when actually everything was fine. Not knowing which hand was doing what with the controls. It took about 10 hours to feel comfortable with it.

I also find it very awkward to be role playing all the time as my instructor and I take turns being the student and the instructor as well as being the student and instructor for real. I feel very self-conscious pretending to teach my highly experienced instructor with 10 times the flight time that I have as if he's taking his first flying lesson ever. I wonder if I'm good enough to teach someone how to fly an airplane.

But all those worries aside, I have loved the opportunity to become more proficient. I have learned so much that I can't believe I didn't know and have become even more comfortable handling the plane. My instructor and I have spent some lessons just playing with the plane, setting up very slow flight against a strong headwind, doing 60 degree steep turns, and spinning the plane over and over again. I've come to see flight instructing not just as a good first job but as a role that would be a great fit for me.

I expected to finish my instructor rating this month. I have six hours of training time left and was planning to do my written exam today, with my flight test to follow by mid-April. I had a job lined up and people who were waiting for me to finish so I could be their instructor. Alas, we are now in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. Aviation has been profoundly impacted. Many pilots are out of work. Training is on hold for almost everyone, including me. It's hard to say what things will be like on the other side of this. I do hope very much that instructing will still be waiting for me and that my friends and I can continue to live our aviation dreams.

My summer as a skydiving pilot

This summer I had my first job as a commercial pilot! I randomly emailed a skydiving company to ask if they needed pilots and a few days later I had a job!

To get started, I spent a few days at the company's main drop zone, a couple hours south of where I live. I met the other pilots and flew along with them in the Piper Navajo to see how they did the skydiving flights. Then I did some training in the Cessna 182 that was to be "my" plane at their sister drop zone north of Edmonton, my home. I had a lot of fun during my couple days of training. Skydive flying is exhilarating.

After my training, I ferried the 182 to the drop zone that would be my base. My job was to fly on weekends, taking tandem jumpers up to 10,500 feet above ground (12,500 feet above sea level). I took two pairs per load. It's busy flying because it's all climbing and then descending and landing. There's really only about two minutes of level flight and during that time, I was lining up, opening the jump door, and watching the jumpers exit to be sure they left safely. The climb had to be managed efficiently so it took as little time as possible. The "jump run" - the whole point of the flight - involves leveling off and getting into position over the drop zone on the right heading to accommodate for the wind. I used a GPS to set up the course to fly  - so much easier than doing it visually by watching for the airport so far below, especially when there were clouds. It took me a few flights to get the timing right but after a couple of weekends, I managed to cut a few minutes off my climb and jump run time.

The jump run requires focus and control. After lining up, the door is opened and the jumpers move into position. It's loud and it feels like the side of the plane is missing. I was buckled in and wearing a parachute myself but you definitely feel like you're on the edge. The jumpers jostle the plane around as they move into position, sit on edge, and then suddenly go. Sometimes I took solo jumpers up and they would hang off the wing strut before letting go and stand on the step so they could jump together. It isn't really hard to control the plane during that phase but it does have to be managed. I would watch to be sure that their rigs weren't caught on anything in the plane and that their parachutes were properly tucked in. Pilots and jumpers can die if the chute opens early and gets caught on the plane.

Closing the door after the jumpers were gone involved slipping the plane hard (basically flying it side-on to the wind to use the airflow to push the door down) and then securing the latch. As soon as the door was closed, I would begin a fast and steep descent in a big circle, slowing it down just in time for a nice final approach and landing. I loved the descent phase - just a few minutes alone to enjoy the flight before taxiing around for another load.

Enjoying the view on the descent

It was a learning experience to work in my first job as a pilot. I challenged myself to get faster and more efficient. I learned to judge the weather differently than before and know when it was still OK to go. I learned about managing customer expectations and I felt the responsibility I had for their safety. I found it very stressful at first. I wanted to be good at it right away and I felt the pressure of everyone's expectations. I got the hang of it, though, and came to enjoy it. It was an exciting, crazy environment and I watched a lot of people experience the thrill of their lives. And then the summer was over before I knew it.

Being a skydiving pilot made me feel badass. I would do it again.

Flying over Africa

This month, I had the incredible opportunity of visiting Africa with my dad and his wife. We were in Zambia, Botswana, Namibia, and South Africa (and I stood in Zimbabwe for 5 minutes, too).

Of particular interest to this newly-minted commercial pilot (I passed my commercial flight test two days before the trip) was the time we spent in Zambia. My father is an organizational consultant and he has worked for several years with an aviation mission based in Zambia. For him, this was a work trip and his wife and I were tagging along. During the three days he worked with them, we stayed at the mission compound in the countryside outside of Lusaka. The compound was beautiful and the guesthouse was charming and quiet.

It wasn't safe to leave the compound to walk on the country roads but one of the staff members mentioned to me that their grass runway was 1000 metres long and I noticed that people would sometimes go out and walk along the edge of it. So I made it my morning routine to walk briskly up and down the runway to get some fresh air and exercise. I did 4 kilometres the first day, then 6 and 8 the next two days. It turned out to be a transcendent way to start each day. It was, for me, almost a spiritual experience to be walking in the warm morning African sun and to be standing on a runway, which is usually not allowed but represents to me the heart of flying.

One day, I was poking around the hangar, looking at the planes, and the chief pilot told me he was taking a visiting VIP up for a flight and that he had room for me if I wanted to join. Did I?! We went for a short local flight in a Cessna 206. I was amazed at the beauty of the landscape. It was great to get the lay of the land around Lusaka.

When it came time to leave Lusaka and move on to the next leg of our trip, the general manager of the mission, also a pilot, gave us the ride of our lives! He flew us in a Cessna 210 from Lusaka to Victoria Falls, a flight of a little over 1.5 hours. The early morning flight over southern Zambia was stunning, taking us over misty rivers, scruffy bush, and verdant farmland. Our pilot let me have the controls for the whole flight. Once we arrived at Livingstone, he flew us over the breaktaking and magnificent Victoria Falls before giving the controls back to me and letting me land the plane at the Livingstone airport. That flight was a once-in-a-lifetime thrill.

All in all, these three days in Zambia were heavenly for me!

I'm a commercial pilot

I passed my commercial flight test today! I'm a commercial pilot!

Last week, I finished the required hours for the commercial license. I took my pilot dad with me for the flight on which I reached 100 hours of pilot in command time. I've been practicing flight test maneuvers over the past couple of months to prepare for this day. I've done some dual time with an instructor and taken a couple of my fellow pilots along to critique me and give me pointers. It's been a lot of fun. Finally, I felt ready (enough) and I wanted to get the flight test done. You just get to the point when enough is enough!

As is typical for spring on the prairies, today was very windy and bumpy. I don't mind turbulence but I worry about landing well on windy days. Somehow, today, I didn't care about the conditions. I just did my thing. After a 30 minute oral exam on the ground, we started the flight with a circuit for a soft field take off and landing. Then we did the cross-country departure procedure and the en route ground speed and ETA calculations. That took us to quiet airspace about 20 nautical miles from the airport, where I demonstrated slow flight, steep turns, stalls, and spin recovery. I did some hood time including timed turns, unusual attitudes, and partial panel. While in that area, I also did a forced approach. Then he gave me a diversion scenario, which was to fly to his airstrip on his farm, about 15 minutes to the south. Once at his strip, I showed him a precautionary landing. Then I put the hood back on and did a GPS intercept and navigated back to the airport. I took the hood off in time to join the circuit for a short field landing and take off. The final trick was a precision 180 power off landing, which I nailed in a 25 knot wind. He made me wait to find out whether I passed! He never really said it; I just assumed as the de-brief went on that I made it. He was actually a nice guy and a very fair examiner. It was a good flight test.

Me and my beloved 172M GJJL

This is a huge milestone in my aviation life. In many ways, this is another beginning but I feel like I've accomplished a lot in the last couple of years and today I feel legitimated as a good and capable pilot. In two days, I'm leaving for a three week trip to Africa. It will be a great reward and a nice break from the intensity of training. Then, when I get back, I'll think about what the next step will be in my flying career!

Instrument rated!

I passed my multi-engine instrument rating flight test last Friday! Flight test day is super stressful but my examiner was a relaxed, supportive guy, which helped make the experience better. I actually enjoyed the flight and he said I did a solid job.

I started the instrument training last September, right after I finished my multi-engine rating. Initially, I spent most of the time in the simulator, learning and practicing radio navigation, approach procedures, and holding patterns. Once I was introduced to those, I did them in the Cessna 172 a few times, alternating flying with more simulator time, depending on the weather. I wanted to earn the multi-engine instrument rating; the training for that can be in a 172 as long as the flight test is in the twin. As I got closer to having the required number of hours, I started flying the Piper Seminole to get used to it again (I had started my multi-engine training in that plane, although I finished in another) and to acquaint myself with the flight test route. My instructor was awesome! I was able to bring a couple of friends along for the ride during my lessons. He also paired us with other IFR students and we rode along on each other's lessons to observe and become more familiar with the route and procedures. That was a great strategy to help us learn more without additional expense.

Meanwhile, my instructor offered a preparation course for the instrument rating written exam. The course was intense - two 13 hour days - but we had a lot of fun. I wrote the exam (called the INRAT) in early January. Right after that, the winter weather treated us to daily flurries and then 3 weeks of extreme cold, putting the last two hours of my training on hold for 5 weeks. Finally last week, we just decided we'd go anyway and did a couple of flights in -30 C so I could finally get to the required 40 hours of instrument training time and go do my flight test!

I loved the training, the way the runway was always there in front of you when you followed the procedures, the radio work, the detail. Because it was so fun, I didn't realize what a big deal it was to having this rating. But after I finished, one pilot told me it was "the one rating to rule them all." My examiner said it was the difference between being an amateur and a professional. And my dad, a 50-year commercial pilot, said "what an accomplishment that is. I know the requirements for that prize, and I am super proud of you for getting to this level. It's definitely the beginning of a career in aviation." I got a bit choked up at that, I have to admit.

I was walking on sunshine for a couple days after the flight test. But now it's time to move on to the next challenge, which will be to pass the commercial pilot license flight test. I'm getting closer!

New year reflections

There's something about the dark, cold, snowy winter days between Christmas and New Year's that allows for quiet reflection about what's been and what's to come.

2018 has been a great year of flying for me. As this year began, I reached my 100 hour milestone. I was so excited that day as a new pilot just launching into the commercial training. Since then, I've earned my night, seaplane, and multi-engine ratings and have made it almost to the end of my instrument rating. I've also successfully completed the written exam for the commercial license. I'm just pushing 200 hours now and, although I'm still a fairly new pilot, I can't believe what I've learned this year.

The night rating training, which I did on those long, cold nights in January and February, was magical and peaceful. I will never forget my first solo night circuits when it was -25℃ or my first night solo cross-country when the moon was full and the fields were silvery white.

The runway at Killam airport on a solo cross-country at night

The seaplane rating was the most fun I've ever had! I was introduced to a whole new world of flying - landing on the ocean or a lake with boats around me, flying low over the water, shutting down and standing on the floats in the middle of a smooth, still lake. I have flown a float plane by myself and it thrills me to think of that. I want float flying to be my job someday.

Just after soloing this beauty

The multi-engine rating, on the other hand, was so frustrating that I had to remind myself to enjoy the flying when I could go. There were so many stops and starts due to instructor availability, a change of flight school (and airplane type), weather, forest fire smoke, and airplane maintenance. It took 4 months and way too many hours (and dollars) to finish it up. My flight test was canceled three times before I finally got to do it. But even this was a great learning experience as I kept myself calm and patient, told myself I would get it done and do it well, and gained confidence and skill flying a more advanced airplane. In the end, I had a great instructor and I loved the Piper Comanche. I was so proud and pleased to have made it through! It made me a better pilot to learn to fly the twin.

The Piper Comanche I trained in for (most of) my multi-engine rating

I spent a good part of the year building time and flying with friends at my primary flight school. We had so much fun as we explored Alberta and learned from each other. Once we all started doing our advanced ratings and training, we didn't fly together as much but those few months of fun in the first half of the year were times I will cherish forever. That wonderful time was capped off with a flight into Saskatchewan in July with a fellow commercial student so we could both do our required 300 NM cross-country trips. That was a great day!

In Humboldt, Saskatchewan

Recently, I've connected with a fellow pilot out at my second flying club and we've flown together a few times this fall. It's been great to have a buddy pilot there, too, so I can have someone to fly with in those planes as well, especially since we both want to build our night hours.

Heading out for a night flight from Villeneuve

It's been an honour for me to fly more with my dad this year. My dad is a retired pilot, with whom I flew hundreds of hours during his flying career. It's the coolest thing to be able to take him up now and continue to enjoy the wonderful world of aviation that I grew up with.

Flying with my dad

This fall, I've been working on my instrument rating. I have loved it! I have a great instructor who is patient, funny, and knowledgeable. I've spent a lot of the training time in the simulator and done most of the flight training in a Cessna 172. A couple of days ago, though, I climbed back into the Piper Seminole, in which I started my multi-engine training, to do a flight in preparation for my multi-IFR flight test. I hadn't flown that plane for 6 months so I wasn't sure how it would go, especially with the busyness of the IFR procedures. But it went so well! It was a great way to end the year of flying.

Last flight of the year - IFR in the Piper Seminole

So what will 2019 bring? I have to finish the instrument rating, which includes a written exam that is notoriously difficult. So there's that. I have to do 5 more hours of instrument training time and then the IFR flight test, which, weather permitting, I hope to do in late January or early February. I am also going to do some dual time with an instructor to prepare for the commercial flight test, which I will aim to do in February/March. Then, with a little more time-building left to do, I hope to complete my commercial requirements by April.

After that, it's a little uncertain. I am planning to work as a commercial pilot but I have to see how that fits in with my current career as a professor. I want to make something of it, though! Aviation has changed my life. It has been the hardest, most exhilarating thing I've done. It has given me confidence and faith in myself. It has shown me freedom. It has given my life beauty. Through it, I have met amazing people. I anticipate great things in 2019.

Now to get on with the work...

A big step along the way

A couple of weeks ago, I passed the written exam for my commercial pilot license. The exam is a 100 question, 3 1/2 hour, multiple choice exam that covers air law, aeronautics and general knowledge, meteorology, and navigation. I finished with 4 minutes to spare! It was a nightmare of an exam and I was sure all the way through that I had failed it but I actually passed with a good margin. I studied hard for it. A fellow commercial student had hired an instructor to do some review sessions for him and invited me to join in. They were very helpful and I found that I was beginning to understand some of the concepts in ways I had never grasped until now. After the review classes, I read the whole study guide textbook along with other materials about aviation regulations and practices. I did some online practice exams and went into the real exam feeling like I had done my best and was as ready as I'd ever be!

Even though I passed, I was traumatized by it and couldn't celebrate until 2 or 3 days later! Now that I've had a couple of weeks to recover, LOL, it feels great to have accomplished yet another step in the journey toward becoming a commercial pilot!

Double trouble

I passed my multi engine flight test! Phew!

I started the training in May at the flight school where I did my PPL. The multi instructor there was set to leave for an airline job so several of us signed up to get the multi rating done while he was still there. I did about 7 hours of lesson time with him through late May and into June. I thought it was a thrill to fly the Piper Seminole but I found the lessons stressful for various reasons. Near the end of June, the plane went into maintenance for a couple of weeks. When it came back online, the instructor was so booked up that I wouldn't have had time to finish the training with him before he left. I was frustrated and had to decide how to proceed.

I opted to move over to the flying club where I am also a member. Things seemed more stable and accessible there. I restarted the training with my new instructor in mid-July. It had been almost a month since my last lesson in the Seminole and now I was flying a Piper Comanche with a very different instructor! I felt in many ways that I was starting over. I loved the Comanche, though, and appreciated my instructor's patience and sense of humour.

I had a couple of enjoyable lessons in July and felt like I was getting used to the busy-ness of the fast airplane and starting to get the hang of the required exercises. In August, however, I was only able to do two lessons because of bad weather, forest fire smoke, my instructor's busy schedule, and my week away in Victoria for my seaplane rating. When I flew in late August, I was rusty and frustrated again. I tried to chill out but I felt like it was taking too long and I couldn't get into a groove.

Somehow, with a few good flights in early September, my instructor said I was ready for my flight test. We booked it for Sept 12 but it was cancelled for weather. We rebooked for Sept 17 and then the 18th but both of those were also cancelled for weather. I kept studying for days, trying to remember it all while waiting for the time to come. On the 18th, I was able to do the ground portion (an oral exam on aerodynamics, airplane systems, flight planning) so we'd at least have that out of the way if the weather ever improved! The ground portion lasted about 75 minutes. It went well and he said I had excellent knowledge. The next day, Sept 19, turned out to be a lovely blue sky day, the first we'd had for weeks (we got a lot of snow this month - two months too early!), so I was able finally to do the flight test. We were in the air for about 70 minutes, going through the circuit, stalls, steep turns, flight at reduced airspeed, and single engine procedures. After we landed and I had shut the engines down, he told me I had passed. Huge relief!

My examiner was a nice guy and said supportive things to me before we went but he was super detail-focused and picky! After the flight test, we debriefed and he told me every little thing I had done wrong (for 45 minutes). After the long list of all of my errors, he simply said, "But there was lots that was good, too." Wow!

This was a challenging rating. There was a lot of new knowledge and skill to acquire. I felt that it took my aviation experience to a whole new level. After all the work and studying, together with the frustrations of the process, I can't quite believe I'm done!

Seaplane heaven

I spent the last week on beautiful Vancouver Island working on my seaplane rating at the Victoria Flying Club. I did this rating partly for fun and partly with the hope that it would lead me to a really cool job once I finish my commercial license.

There isn't much opportunity (if any) in my area to learn to fly floats, which is why I went out to the west coast to do this rating. I set up a week worth of lessons with VFC and hoped that the weather would cooperate and I would get the hang of it during the one week I had out there.

Turned out the weather was stunningly perfect during the four days it took for me to complete the training. I also had an awesome instructor - experienced, patient, fun, and interesting - and he showed me the float plane life while also teaching me how to fly the plane.

My first lesson was last Tuesday. John, my instructor, drove us to the seaplane base at Patricia Bay, adjacent to the Victoria International Airport, and showed me how to do the pre-flight inspection, which includes pumping seawater out of the floats, and how to put the airplane into the water. It's definitely more complicated to get a float plane ready to go!

On the ramp, ready to go

That first day, we flew around the gulf islands and did some take-offs and landings in random spots on the ocean. It was a thrill and quite a change for me to fly at only 100-200 feet above sea level. We landed near Saltspring Island, beached the plane there, and got out to stand on the beach for a few minutes. After taking off again, we headed east, right out into the open Strait of Georgia, with Vancouver in the distance, to do some rough water takeoffs and landings.

Beached on Saltspring Island

On Wednesday, we did two lessons. The theme of the morning was tight spaces. First we did a few circuits in a narrow ocean inlet. John encouraged me to snug right up against the mountainside to maximize the space I had. I felt like we were going to hit the trees for sure. Then we flew up to Shawnigan Lake on the other side of the ridge to do a few more takeoffs and landings in the narrow valley.

In the afternoon, we flew to Cowichan Lake to practice glassy water takeoffs and landings, doing the required stalls and emergency landing practice on the way there. (Did you know that you can land a float plane on grass without damaging it at all?!) The water was smooth and the long lake made it a great place to practice the long, slow descent and landing technique for glassy water. After a few circuits, we landed, shut down, and climbed out onto the floats. It was a hot and perfect blue sky day. I took my shoes off to dip my feet in the warm water. A couple of boaters came by to say hi as we enjoyed a few lovely moments bobbing on the quiet lake.

Floating on Cowichan Lake

By Thursday, I was trying hard to bring together all I had learned and starting to imagine myself doing it alone. The rating requires 7 hours of training, including 5 solo takeoffs and landings, and I knew the solo time was coming soon. This lesson involved more takeoffs and landings, this time at Bedwell Harbour on Pender Island. Another glorious day.

I didn't sleep well on Thursday night because I was pretty sure I'd have to fly that plane alone the next day. On Friday, we rushed to get the plane in the water before the tide was too low and then flew over to nearby Quamichan Lake, also known as The Lake of Seaplane Student Solos. We did some circuits together to get me used to the area and also practiced docking. We stood on the dock for a long time, waiting for some wind to disturb the glassy water so I could solo. To pass the time, we took John's friend's dinghy out for a spin. Once back to the dock, the water was still too smooth so we did a couple more circuits together. My last landing was totally awesome so John said, "Well, I think that means I need to get out now and let you go." 

Alone in the plane, I wasn't terribly nervous but I did feel my heart beating a little faster. I cleverly used the transponder dial to count my circuits. Taking off in a seaplane is weird because the nose goes way up at first but then settles down on its own before the pilot pulls back to lift off. The first circuit was fine - climb out, circle around to the downwind leg, low over the trees, flare, touch down. On circuit number 2, the wind had picked up and the crosswind on landing surprised me and pushed me a bit sideways, which I immediately corrected. On the third circuit, I was prepared for the crosswind, so the landing was smooth. The beauty of landing a float plane is that you aren't limited by a runway; you can land in any direction, depending on the wind. So, for the 4th and 5th circuits, I flew a slightly shifted circuit, aligning myself into the wind, and the landings were easier. 

Solo complete!

I felt so proud and relieved after the solo was finished! After I docked, John and I walked up the hill to his friend's house. He made us lunch and showed us his hangar full of old restored and soon-to-be-restored airplanes. Then we hopped back in our seaplane and took it home to Patricia Bay. 

Yesterday, Sunday, I went into the office at the Victoria Flying Club to fill out the paperwork for my seaplane rating. The chief flight instructor shook my hand and said, "Congratulations, you're a seaplane pilot!" I got all choked up. It seemed unreal to hear those words. 

This was a week in heaven! I love flying a float plane. I could do it all day, every day. Even if nothing ever comes of this, this was the best vacation I ever could have had. But I really, really hope that this can be my job someday. 

300 nautical mile commercial cross-country

My pilot friend and fellow commercial student, Cam, and I have been trying for some time to get our 300 NM cross-country flight done. Weather has thwarted us several times but we were finally able to do it yesterday, on a sunny lovely prairie day.

In Canada, we are required to complete a cross-country flight to a destination 300 NM in a straight line from our point of origin, with two landings enroute. We chose to go to Humboldt, a very small town in Saskatchewan, which is 300.1 nautical miles from Cooking Lake, our home airport. Our waypoints were Lloydminster, on the Alberta/Saskatchewan border, and North Battleford, Saskatchewan. We chose the route because a) the weather was good in that direction b) it was the right distance without going much farther than necessary and c) it happened to be on the VNC (VFR navigation chart aka map) that we already had. I flew there and Cam flew back so both of us got our 300s done!

We did a quick review of our flight plan with an instructor on Friday, the day before our flight. Saturday morning was calm and beautiful and we took off just before 8:00 a.m.

Lloydminster, our first stop, is on the wide-open prairie and I loved the feeling of spaciousness as we approached. Our arrival into the busy MF there went smoothly after we were handed off from flight following with Edmonton Centre. After a short rest, we departed for North Battleford. I expected the prairie scenery to be similar all the way but there was a lot of variation – hills, rivers, lakes, different crops and colours – and the landscape sparkled in the sunlight.

The arrival into North Battleford was beautiful, with the town set beside the wide North Saskatchewan River. 

On the ground there, I checked the weather and filed the next flight plan. Once we had refueled, we began the longest segment to Humboldt. The weather briefer had told me that there were isolated thunderstorms developing across Saskatchewan but that we'd be able to get around them easily. We never did see them but there were showers and there was more cloud build-up on that leg and it was bumpy! 

Just after setting out, we heard a radio call from another 172 that was also heading for Humboldt. I never saw him but I made frequent position reports to ensure we maintained safe spacing. 

The area around Humboldt has a thousand tiny lakes dotted amongst the fields! 

Humboldt Lake

The airport is small, the runway short and narrow, but I was thrilled to land there. We met the pilot of the other plane, who landed just behind us, and then chilled for a few minutes in the tiny terminal before starting Cam’s trip back. 

This was an amazing day! I experienced a longer trip in unfamiliar airspace and over new geography. Cam was easy, fun company and it made me feel secure to have another pilot with me but I knew what I was doing and I realized on this trip how much I've grown as a pilot. I reflected on how aviation has introduced me to some great people and given me a whole new appreciation for the beauty of the prairies. It was such a privilege to be able to do this!

Frustrations and their benefits

In the last six weeks, a few things have interfered with my satisfaction with flying. I think it's important to acknowledge when things aren't going well. It's OK to feel down about things sometimes. As well, in reflecting on issues that arise, it's possible to learn from them and/or develop a plan to overcome them.

The biggest problem for me recently has been illness. I developed an overwhelming cough and was quite sick for the better part of a month. Needless to say, I barely flew at all, except when I felt slightly perkier for a couple of days and was able to squeeze in two back-to-back flights in early May. I probably wouldn't even have bothered except that I had a couple of hours remaining on some pre-purchased block time, which was about to expire, so I dragged myself out to the airport to get in a little time. I feel better now but the cough and fatigue are lingering so I am still taking it slowly. It's never good timing to be sick but sometimes it's a way of being forced to slow down and rest and renew yourself. There's nothing like being grounded to make you eager to fly again!

Even though our long and harsh winter finally came to an end in late April, the weather has still been an issue. It's been as windy as Jupiter almost every day for the last five or six weeks. I still worry about wind because I'm never sure if I can land on a windy day. Still, it's been so windy that, even if I had more confidence and skill, there have been many days where flying would be iffy. I was supposed to do my 300 NM cross-country trip, a requirement for the commercial pilot license, with a fellow pilot on May 19. We had to cancel because the winds were 20 knots, gusting to 30 at a 90 degree angle to the runway at Cooking Lake. It's been very frustrating and has interfered with my flying goals this month.

The windy weather, while frustrating, does present some opportunity though. I do need practice with windier conditions and there's no shortage of days for that! On one of those early May flights, my pilot friend Cam and I flew to a nearby airport. It was SO bumpy, I couldn't even let go of the controls long enough to switch to my sunglasses. The approach was crazy wild, with strong winds, wind shear, and crosswinds. Once I made it to the ground, the landing was good but it was a wrestle to get it there. Cam and I had to laugh at the conditions that day and, once we were down, we both said it had been a little bit fun and challenging in a good way. I finally flew again yesterday, three weeks after that wild ride. I went to Wetaskiwin, 30 NM away. I left at 7:00 a.m. to try to beat the winds that typically pick up in midday. The winds on the ground at Cooking Lake and at Wetaskiwin were about 8-10 knots, only about 10-20 degrees off the runway, so pretty good. It was smooth in the climb-out and smooth and beautiful at altitude. But when I arrived at Wetaskiwin and turned final, the winds were 24 knots between 100 and 500 feet off the ground. I gave it a lot of power and practically rammed that plane down to the ground. The landing was good but wow! When I returned to Cooking Lake, I encountered the same conditions on final. I actually had to go around and try again because I couldn't quite get my airspeed and descent stabilized in that wind. The second time, I got it in with a passable landing. So much for the calm of the early morning! I don't like flying when it's like that but it is good practice and I was pleased that I handled that.

To continue my litany of complaints, I have felt discouraged socially. So far, I have never perceived any discrimination or exclusion from the other pilots at the airport, who tend to be young guys. I've always felt that they like me and see me as a pilot like any other. They are kind and friendly to me and always happy to see me. But I've realized lately that they do still tend to gravitate toward each other and tend to make their flying plans with each other. It makes perfect sense, of course. It's natural for them to want to be with each other. But it has highlighted for me lately that I am an older female pilot. Also, in general, I feel like I am more often scrounging for someone to fly with than I was before. My pilot friends have been less available to fly with me lately. I love to fly with my brother, who's a student pilot, but he works full-time and can't come with me every time I go. I know this is just the natural evolution of social life. But I feel the shift and I feel the ways that I am different.

Still, I want to use these feelings constructively. One thing that this shift does is force me to fly by myself. I haven't actually spent very much time alone in the plane. It's nice to have company and nice to have the security of another pilot-mind in the cockpit but I can fly a plane by myself and if my circumstances are pushing me to do more of that, that's a good thing. I went to Wetaskiwin alone yesterday and managed the conditions on my own, calmly and cooly. I am not going to wait for company - I'm just going to book a plane and go! It will be very good for me to learn to rely completely on myself. I will also focus more on taking non-pilot passengers with me. That will be fun in a new way, build my confidence as a trustworthy pilot, and give my friends a thrill, too. On a larger scale, I want to think about what it means to be a woman in aviation and an older new pilot. I can use my unique situation to inspire others and let them know that aviation is for anyone. I've reached out to a few women I know who have started and then left flight training or expressed interest in starting it to offer to take them flying and to encourage them in their pilot journeys. I have been pushed into greater self-reliance and have been prompted to think about how I can use myself to show aviation to others.

Finally, it's been very challenging to manage my job as a professor and invest the time I want to in my commercial pilot training. Being a professor is very demanding. It's competitive and the expectations are high. It's a more-than-full-time job. But my job is also very flexible and the pay is decent. I have come to appreciate more than ever how fortunate I am to have the means to pursue my flying goals, which my job provides. Focusing on this instead of the stress has helped me to balance, maintain, and cope with my commitment to both my job and my flight training.

I have to say that it's been a challenging month with a few frustrations. It can be hard to take. But I can see the lessons and opportunities that the challenges present. I don't believe in pretending that everything is hunky-dory when it isn't. That's not fair to ourselves and it takes away the opportunity to use difficult times constructively and productively. Growth is hard but growth is what I want.

Winter on the prairies

March was a rough month weather wise and winter still has an unusually late grip on the prairies. It's been unseasonably cold and the weather has been patchy and changeable. We've had snowstormy days that have suddenly cleared into lovely evenings and beautiful blue sky days that have deteriorated quickly. Still, in between periods of weird spring weather, there have been some opportunities to take flight over the white, winter prairies.

I was able to take my dad flying again after almost six months. We had flown together at the end of September and then in early November he had a stroke. There were days when I feared the worst and I wondered if we'd ever have the chance to fly together again. But he worked very hard on his therapy and made an amazing recovery. We were able to fly togeher again on March 11, which happened to be a gorgeous, perfect, warm, calm, blue sky day. We flew from Villeneuve to Drayton Valley, a 47 NM trip. Our route took us over Hubbles Lake where, in my other life as a triathlete, I swim in the summers with my friends, then past Wabamun Lake, and finally over the North Saskatchewan River as we neared Drayton Valley. We stayed on the ground there for a few minutes, soaking up the sunshine, before heading back. My dad was mostly quiet as he looked out the window at the trees and farmland passing beneath us. He later said how nostalgic he had felt for all the years he had been a pilot; he said it was so special to be able to fly with me. I felt honoured.

Hubbles Lake

I went to Camrose twice this month, two days in a row. Camrose is a small city, southeast of Edmonton, 26 NM from Cooking Lake Airport, which is my home airport. On March 12, my friend and I had plans to go for dinner. I asked her if she wanted to fly somewhere to get a meal and she agreed! We chose Camrose because it's a short flight and it's near her childhood home on a farm in the area. We walked into town for supper and got a ride back to the airport with her dad, who just happened to be in town at the same time. The next day, I went back to Camrose, this time with my brother, to meet our niece who lives there. She brought pizza to the airport and we ate it in the lovely little terminal there. It was really fun and the flight was beautiful, even though it was very hazy that afternoon.

Departing Camrose

My friend Doug and I have been wanting to fly to St. Paul, 70 NM to the northeast of Cooking Lake, for some time. St. Paul is the pretend destination on the cross country exercise for the private pilot flight test and we have always said we would go there for real one time! The day we went had been stormy all day and we were sure we'd have to cancel our plans. But by the evening, things had cleared up and we were able to head off. It turned out to be an amazingly gorgeous and smooth flight and we marveled about how beautiful it was that evening. We landed at home in the setting sun, making it back before the thunderstorms - in March! - started.

On the way to St. Paul

March 25 was another strange weather day but was clear and beautiful out at the airport, so I took off again with my dad, this time planning a triangle to the north and east of Cooking Lake. We were about 2/3 of the way to our first stop when we ran into very low cloud and poor weather. We didn't actually get caught in it but I knew we couldn't go any farther. We tried to divert to the nearest airport but it was under cloud as well so we went to the next closest one, which happened to be Camrose again! We landed there, taxied back to the threshold, and departed for home. We were always safely under clear blue sky but wanted to be sure we made it back before the weather could move in further.

Staying where the sky is blue

On my final flight in March, I went up with my pilot friend Cam. It was another crazy day with weather all around us and we debated about going at all. But it looked OK to the south so we decided to go the 60 NM to Lacombe. It was bumpy at low altitudes but we cruised at 7500 feet, about 5000 feet above ground, where it was smooth and beautiful. I flew the outbound leg. It was a bit of a windy wrestle in the circuit at Lacombe and I had a crosswind on landing but I did a nice job with it! The terminal there is beautiful so we hung out for a few minutes before leaving. The clouds had rolled in by the time we got back to Cooking Lake and the wind had picked up to a good 15 knots; thankfully for Cam it was pretty much straight down the runway. We were glad we got to squeeze in another flight.

Off to Lacombe at 7500' ASL

The snowy prairies are stunning and every day I get to fly over them is a joy. It was a good month. Now I'm looking forward to some green views from the cockpit.

Night rating!

Last week, I finally finished my night rating!

After a couple of instructor changes, a switch in flight schools (see post on Dec 13), several weather cancellations, and a few weeks dealing with family illness, I was able to put some time in during January and February to get this done!

In mid-January, I completed the required dual and instrument time. My instructor and I did some night circuits, I spent a couple hours in the simulator and under the hood with him guiding me, and we did a night cross-country trip to Rocky Mountain House, 88 NM southwest of Cooking Lake Airport.

In the simulator

On January 28, it was finally time for me to go solo, starting with some night circuits. I was a little apprehensive before heading out but it turned out to be a great evening. I was amazed at how precise my circuits and how greasy my landings were! It was a real confidence-builder and a great way to start off the solo time I had to do. 

Solo circuits

February brought some more nasty weather and some flights just for fun but when the chance to fly at night came again, I did a couple of cross-country trips to fill the remaining four hours of solo time. On February 22, I did a two-hour triangle from Cooking Lake to Camrose to Vegreville. I've traveled to these towns a few times before and chose it because I wanted to do a familiar route while adjusting to night flying. It was a lovely, peaceful trip and it went perfectly well. 

I did the last two hours on February 28. Alberta had received some snow the day before, so I decided to head east/southeast to Killam, 62 NM away, where the runway was most likely to be clear. The moon was almost full and it lit up the night, shining off the white, snowy fields. 

Moonlight and the Killam runway lights

The flight was smooth and quiet (only a few people on the radios at night). My landing at Killam was a beauty. I shut down there and went into the small terminal to eat my pear and cheese. I like the Killam airport because they often have homemade cookies and I was not disappointed this night! I enjoyed being the only one at the airport in the quiet darkness. The flight home was pleasant. After landing back at Cooking Lake, I did one more circuit just to get to the required 5 hour total. Once I shut down, I went inside where my instructor filled out the paperwork for my night rating!

Last night I did my first flight as a night-rated pilot. My pilot friend, Cam, and I flew to Rocky Mountain House. I was PIC on the way there; he flew us back. It's a nice flight because it takes you just south of the city, through Class C airspace, so there's some radio work to do. But there's a nice, long, quiet stretch over the prairies, too, once the city is behind you. 

Passing by the south end of the city on the way home from Rocky

Night flying is very different. There are certain unique risks but there's also peace and quiet and the beauty of the stars and the lights on the ground. I'm glad I've been able to add this to my flying skills. 

Ice pilots

I had the most amazing experience last Monday! I landed on an ice runway on a frozen lake!

I heard about the Gull Lake Fly-in through a pilot I follow on Instagram. I thought it sounded like a great experience so I asked my commercial instructor, Nathan, if he'd like to go with me. He was excited about it and, by the time the day came, three others, all pilots, had decided to come along, too! We set off from Cooking Lake in two planes, three in ours, with Nathan's student in the back, and two in the other.

It was cold and windy but it was one of those unbeatable blue-sky Alberta days! Gull Lake is 65 nautical miles southwest of Cooking Lake, about 40 minutes in the air. The flight there, over the central Alberta prairies, was stunningly beautiful!

Gull Lake is a big lake so we could see it in the distance, with the Rocky Mountains as a backdrop. The ice runway is on the southern edge of the lake so I flew out wide over the lake to join the downwind for runway 30 straight in.

Another plane was arriving from the east, moving faster than we were, and he wanted to land on 12. So to make that work, I crossed over the field from mid-downwind 30 to join the downwind for 12. My approach went over the open lake. There was a hefty crosswind, but I judged my turn to final just right and rode the centerline in. Nathan reminded me to slow down a bit, which was helpful, since I was focusing pretty hard on that narrow strip of clear ice! My landing was lovely. I was surprised by how rough the surface was and I figured out quickly to be careful of braking too hard. We rolled out to the end and taxied off, taking our place in the long line of parked airplanes.

Several people approached our plane (the white one in the picture) to welcome us, which was so nice! The organizer welcomed me by name; I had emailed him earlier about the event and I guess he knew it was me since I was the only female pilot there! We climbed out and found our friends, Ben and Aaron, who had arrived in the other plane, just minutes before us. My Instagram pilot friend found me and we met each other in person. Once we were all together, we walked off the lake and up the road to the community hall where they had coffee, hot chocolate, apple cider, and hotdogs. We sat outside the hall in a circle around the firepit, where we ate, roasted marshmallows, and laughed our heads off. When it was time to go, we climbed onto the hay wagon, which took us back out onto the ice, to our waiting airplanes.

Morgan, Nathan's student, flew us home. I rode in the backseat, which was so relaxing, and enjoyed the view. This was a very fun event and it was surreal to land on a lake! This was one of those incredible, pinch-yourself pilot experiences.

A little excitement

Yesterday, my pilot friend and I went flying together, as we often do. We planned to fly to Whitecourt, 105 nautical miles west of our home airport at Cooking Lake. It's a nice route over the city and then into a countryside dotted with lakes, with a view of the Rocky Mountains in the distance. I was PIC on the way out. We chose the route because it offers plenty of opportunity for radio work - obtaining clearance into Class C airspace over the city, making enroute position reports, and then communicating with the ground station (MF - mandatory frequency) in Whitecourt. We also wanted to request flight following, which is when you stay with air traffic control even after leaving the controlled airspace over the city, for the purpose of receiving traffic reports.

We settled in nicely as we flew over the city and then out over the fields. But, about 2/3 of the way to Whitecourt, our pleasant conversation was interrupted by a blaring alarm. A red warning flashed on the annunciator panel: High carbon monoxide level. I immediately turned off the heat and opened the vent by my face. Cam opened his vent and then got out the emergency procedures manual, which told us to do what we had done. With all of the vents open, the alarm turned off within a minute.

Thoughts ran through my head about what to do next and I think Cam was having the same ones. It seemed like things were OK. The alarm stayed off. But we pondered what to do. Whitecourt was about 20 minutes away. Should we keep heading in that direction? Turning back was a possibility, too, although it was nearing sunset and we didn't have time to make it all the way back before nightfall. So, that wasn't a great option since I don't have my night rating yet. As it happened, we were nearing the town of Mayerthorpe, which has a small airport. That seemed to be our best option.

In that situation, I was very happy that we were still on frequency with air traffic control for flight following. I radioed them and told them about our issue and our intention to divert to Mayerthorpe. We were at 6500 feet at the time and he said he would lose radar and radio contact with us once we were below about 4000 feet. He asked me to call him one final time at around that altitude. He also asked a commercial flight that was passing overhead if I could call them once we were safely on the ground, so that they could relay the message back to him.

I began the descent into Mayerthorpe and joined the circuit. The runway was covered in snow but thankfully it wasn't very deep and I could still see the pavement markings beneath the snow layer. My landing was nice but the runway was very uphill so it was interesting to adjust the landing flare. As we taxied to the tiny terminal, I radioed up to the overhead flight to let them know we were safely on the ground and to thank them for keeping an eye out for us. I heard the pilot (another woman!) radio back to air traffic control to let them know, too. We spent a few minutes in the terminal to take a few deeps breaths. We weren't scared and we kept our cool but once we were down, it struck us a little. I called in to amend our flight plan and told the briefer what had happened. Five minutes later, his supervisor called me back to ask if we were OK and if we needed any assistance on the ground. I said that things seemed fine at that point and that we were going to head back to Cooking Lake.

I was absolutely amazed at how many people rallied to help us out, even in a minor emergency situation. It chokes me up to think of it now. Although it was up to me/us to make the decisions and get back down, I felt like a lot of people were with us in those few minutes. It was good to experience that.

Once we caught our breath, we climbed back into our plane and rubbed the dash lovingly so it would be kind to us on the way back. Cam flew what turned out to be a beautiful, peaceful, uneventful night flight back home.

Letting it unfold

I am very definitely a "destination" person rather than a "journey" person. I am goal-oriented and certain about what I want to achieve. I have been learning a lot lately about being in the present and letting the process unfold. More and more, I see how the letting go can lead to things I never expected.

Flying parallels life in so many ways and yesterday I saw this lesson in action yet again.

I had a plane booked for the afternoon and had arranged to fly with another pilot. The evening before, he messaged me to say that his schedule (he flies commercially) didn't work out after all for him to fly with me.

I started to ask other pilot friends if they wanted to come along and even posted an invitation on a Facebook group for fellow pilots at Cooking Lake. But all of them said they couldn't join me due to work and family events. Being a little nervous about flying on my own, I quietly hoped the weather, which was looking iffy, would lead to a cancellation and I'd be off the hook. But, lo and behold, the day turned out to be bright and sunny and the forecasted snow never materialized. It seemed I had no good reason to cancel, so I left for the airport.

There was a light crosswind at the airport so I was just that much more nervous thinking about heading off on my own. But honestly, I do know how to do it and practicing with a slight crosswind would be fine and good for me. So I climbed into the plane. The airport was crazy busy on such a nice day and I could hardly manoeuvre the plane around all the others on the ramp. As I slowly crept forward, I passed a fellow pilot, Aaron, who did his training around the same time as me, as he taxied in from his multi-engine lesson. We waved at each other.

I taxied down to the other end of the airport to do my run-up at the active end of the runway. While I was working through the checklist, Aaron came on the radio saying, "Hey, Sarah, don't go! Can I go with you?" I taxied back down to the hangar and saw him running across the apron. He hopped in and we got ourselves out of the traffic jam again and headed off.

Climbing out of Cooking Lake enroute to Vegreville

I hadn't flown with Aaron before, although we had said we wanted to go together sometime. This turned out to be a perfectly serendipitous opportunity that I never thought would happen and didn't see coming. I was almost about to take off alone and then everything changed! And we had a blast! We talked easily and laughed a lot. We talked about our own flight training and flight tests and our plans for flying careers in the future. When we landed in Vegreville, Aaron had arranged for a friend to meet him at the airport to say hi. I was introduced to him and the two of them climbed into the plane to have a look and take selfies. We were only on the ground for about 15 minutes (had to get back before dark) but it was one of those rare moments with friends or even strangers that just make you smile and feel like life is good.

The flight back was great, too, and as we neared our home airport, a friend of mine from commercial ground school recognized my voice on the radio as he was also approaching the airport. He said, "Is that Sarah?" I said yes! We cracked a few jokes as we also negotiated our position in the circuit. He landed just before me and then watched me land, broadcasting on the radio to everyone in the area that my landing was a good one. Back in the hangar as I filled out the paperwork, we talked with other students and instructors and had some good laughs.

This was such a great day! I was so pumped after it was over. I had begun by wishing the weather would interfere so I didn't have to fly alone. Yet, it unfolded to be a fabulous series of events that I never could have planned. I am so glad I took the first step and allowed such a wonderful day to unfold. If I had tried to control it and fear it, I would have ended up staying at home and missing it all. This is a great lesson for life. Take the first step and you might be amazed!

Another blog

Cooking Lake Aviation, where I rent planes, did my PPL training, and am working on my commercial license, asked me to write a post for their new blog, to share my experience of becoming a pilot. It was a lot of fun to write about my flight training journey and I hope it inspires someone to take it on for themselves!

Here is a link to the post on their blog:

https://flycla.ca/my-journey-through-flight-school/