why don't we all tell stories?

[noflyingfan]

Mark asked Ray in his forum to tell the story of his first solo flight, which Ray happily did, of course, because he's awesome. :)

So...in promotion of board bonding, why don't we tell the stories of some of our flights past? Maybe the best one and the worst one to start?

My best was a tie...a few weeks ago, when I went to Cleveland and the captain talked to me and calmed me down to where I was not at all nervous to get on the plane, or the one last week when the night was so clear and the sky so smooth that I just looked out the window the whole time at the little lights on the ground. That one would probably win, if not for the big snoring man in the next seat, and my woogly tummy that night.

My worst would be ever other flight I've ever taken. Just kidding. You know what, I've never actually had a *bad* flight. I had a pretty bumpy one after a bad day stuck at O'Hare (by myself at age 13), but that was before I was hard-core afraid to fly, so it didn't bother me much. And there was the one into Denver when my sister demonstrated, right beside me, proper use of a barf bag, :barf but up till then,the flight was fine. The other perceivably bad flights were all because I was afraid. Huh. Funny the things you realize -- I'm afraid to fly and I've NEVER been on a flight that was really really bad for any reason except the fact that I was afraid. That's pretty telling right there.

[canoga]

Best flight - April 1999. Los Angeles to Guangzhou, China.

This was the last flight before my fear of flying hit. Honestly, I had NO FEAR of flying. I was excited to be traveling with my hubby to go pick up our first daughter in China. I was flying Business Class so I knew I would be comfy. For the 14 hrs, I snoozed, read, and enjoyed being treated like royalty by the FAs serving me warm towels and finger sandwiches with the crust cut off. When the sun came up (after about 13 hrs of darkness), I looked below and saw mountain ranges in my daughter's homeland. I sipped the most exquisite orange blossom tea and felt such a sense of happiness and peace - I can't describe it.

Worst flight - harder to pinpoint since I had a string of real losers there for a while:D

One was Cleveland to LAX - VERY bumpy. As I was trying to buckle my daughter in (after a trip to the potty), we hit a really hard bump and she went airborne. Another was the last time I was in China (April 2003). One and 1/2 hrs of solid hard bumps. It was like riding in a car with square wheels. Plus the wings did the tipping-from-side-to-side thingy. I couldn't understand any of the announcements since their English was heavily accented and I had a death grip on my 8 month old for fear she would go flying (it is very hard to get a seat for an infant on this airline. They automatically book infants as lap tickets and fill up all the other seats). When we landed, I had trouble extending my arms because I had held them in one position with my death grip for so long.

Beth

[beaugest]

You know this was interesting. Good question and I don't have a good answer. Because I really can't think of "a really bad flight..." I've had flights that have been uncomfortable but not anything too crazy...(now, of course, I'm worried that I'm tempting the fates by saying that so I have to go knock on wood...).I had one flight where a piece of the wing fell off as we were landing. But I was young and it didn't make me anxious.
I think what made me anxious about flying had nothing to do with the flights themselves.
My best flight was on Song (after Deb. had to swear to me several times i'd be fine). I was relaxed enough to be able to enjoy my kids and the time on the plane with them. Instead of spending the whole trip mentally assisting the pilot :pray I played cards with them(my kids not the pilots...) Monica

[Chelle]

Good post!

Ok.. my best flight was definitely my last return trip from San Francisco to Toronto. I took a healthy dose of Ativan, but I still did things I'd never done before, like scoot over to an empty window seat, got up to use the bathroom (twice!) and spent the entire descent into Toronto with my nose pressed against the window whilst eating crackers. It was night time and the Toronto lights looked so pretty...

My worst flight.. in retrospect wasn't really THAT bad. I mean, it was at the time, but now that I have more knowledge of aircraft in general, I've changed my view of that flight from "We almost died!!" to... "a moderately turbulent flight with a brief period of severe turbulence" It was my honeymoon, June 1995 (an omen maybe? LOL) and we were flying on a small Airbus from Toronto to Cancun. There was a storm over the Florida Keys and I'm not sure if we flew threw/around/within 100 mile radius of the storm, but it got pretty hairy... I remember being belted in and holding the top of the chair in front of me, and my bum being off the seat, then slamming back down, over and over.. (I had a very sore bum afterwards, and it wasn't just from being in Mexico, lol!). The FA's pretty much abandoned their carts and bee-lined to the back. Food and coffee were flying around, some people threw up. Everyone was pretty somber getting off the plane. I remember asking our tour guide how much it would cost to charter a boat to get back home, I did not want to get back on a plane, LOL.

:airplane

[WillFlyToDisney2]

Hmmmm - worst flight was my flight from MCO to ATL on a Delta L-1011 the day before Thanksgiving 1989 - the one that sparked my fear of flying and left me grounded until 2003. Let's just say we had a very crippled plane in severe weather and I have no idea HOW we made it to the ground, but we did.

Best flight - probably one of the many legs to LAX with the band. We went out once this year and got exit row seats on the 767-300 - lots of leg room! Also the one where I got to sit by the off duty pilot Richard on a 757 from LAX to CVG - I loved talking to him the whole flight and didnt even notice if there was any turbulence.

:)
Kelley

[noflyingfan]

I'm willing to bet that Richard was cute, Kelley, knowing your penchant for cute pilots. :)

[JPenny]

Best flight: every flight I had until FOF hit. My parents both got their pilots' licenses while I was in jr. high, and we went up fairly often in small planes (cessna 150's and 172's). I remember my dad flying through turbulance and whooping like a cowboy on a bucking bronco. He loved it, and I had absolutely no fear.

I also flew several times a year while in college--no problem at all.

"It" hit on a flight from Atlanta to Chicago. As we were descending into Chicago, it was rainy and stormy. There was some turbulance (nothing radical, compared to some of your flight reports), and the plane shook. We could see nothing but clouds out the windows. The plane repeatedly slowed down and sped up (Now I know the captain was just getting in the pattern for landing and trying to keep on course in the weather). To me, however, any trust I had was gone. I was in panic mode. All I could do was grip the armrests and sit frozen. My face prickled, I was so scared. I was also pregnant for the first time (11-12 weeks). The captain NEVER came on to say anything reassuring. Everyone on the plane was silent, except for my husband, who kept looking out the window and saying "Cool! Look at those clouds"

Later that week I lost the baby--probably not due to my fear or to flying, but just because that happens to women alot. I don't remember being fearful on the flights right after that one, but the fear began there, and grew stronger with each flight.

I am doing much better now, though I had a scary flight from Chicago to Greenville last June. Nothing out of the ordinary for anyone else on the flight, but for me it was very turbulent and scary--late at night, and my coping skills were gone. As we took off through the clouds and rain (is it always raining in Chicago??!!) the turbulance was moderate, and I was very claustrophobic on the small plane (three seats across, ERJ or CRJ), sitting in the very back next to some foreign guy who hadn't had a shower in quite a while.

I love hearing all these "Terrible flight" stories, because it really reinforces the idea (for me) that the flight can FEEL terrible, and yet it still ends safely, time after time. Cool beans.

Have a great day, everyone!

Jean

[WillFlyToDisney2]

Yep, Erika - Richard was a cutie. I still exchange emails with him from time to time and have tried to get him to pop in over here. He still thinks I am nuts for being scared to fly though! LOL

Jean - hugs to you! I wonder if your fear was brought on because of the pregnancy - I know I became much more scared of many things once I had my kids.

I wouldn't wish my "worst" flight on my worst enemy. One thing that a very wise pilot friend of mine keeps telling me though - "but you landed just fine"...

Kelley

[Debbielevis2]

What a great idea this thread is!

Worst: The origination of my fear. First Wedding Anniversary , first flight ever (well, second - first flight was TO there). Bermuda - 1976. Flight over was fine. Nervous because I'd never flown before, but hubby explained most of what was going on. Return flight (gulp!) Squished into the way-back of a 727. Upon boarding, the woman in front of me said to the FA at the door, "I have a real bad feeling about this flight.", to which the FA replied, "Funny, you're not the first to say that". oh, goody!:shocked

Take-off was fine, then suddenly, it got pitch black. Captain buckled everyone in, and we began to rock. And roll. Then swerve and dip. Then big dips and swoops. Then things started slamming around in the cabin. Then people began screaming and holding each other. Then the co-pilot came out to look around the cabin and literally crawled his way back into the cockpit. Then the Air Force pilot sitting beside me said he'd never seen anything like this in his 20 years of flying and when I said, "Are we gonna be alright?" all he said was, "I hope so, lady." The Captain once said he was pretty busy, so wouldn't be making too many announcements, only explaining that it was a very bad storm (no-o-o-o!) and he was going to head up to Canada and swing back down to Boston to avoid the worst of it, but it would lengthen the flight by an hour. This scene was constant. Never got better. We slammed onto a runway at Logan, and found that we were the last flight into Boston that night. I swore off flying and kept to my word for the next 18 years.

I realize now that that was one of those nightmare flights that most people never encounter in their lifetime - including pilots. I also have to remember that we DID land. Safely. :hail I also understand that despite the several horridly turbulent flights I've encountered over the past couple of years are still safe. Yucky, but still safe. I think I'll always think of that flight every time I feel a bump.

Best flight? Every one since that! No, seriously -- the one last month where it was so smooth, late at night, starry, big moon, pretty landscape, and I was very disappointed to have to land. And, of course, the one where Ray flew me to Phoenix.:ray

Debbie

[JPenny]

Thanks, Kelley—

In retrospect, I was always a VERY idealistic kid, believed in the happy ending stuff, believed the best about everyone. I thought that if I just did everything right, life would go "right" for me. Isn't that what our parents told us?

Anyway, for me, marriage and striking out on my own was a very big "awakening" to real life. I learned that unpleasant stuff happens to people (me) even though I had tried so hard to do everything right. I learned that a lot of things just don't make sense, at least from our perspective down here! The personal, emotional struggles I went through challenged my trust in EVERYTHING and everyone. I was in a major "Wake Turbulance" event, and it took a great deal of time for me to center myself. It makes sense that during this vulnerable time of disallusionment and early pregnancy I would get the FOF hangup, doesn't it?

I am just incredibly thankful to have found a place like this to get support, information, and (hate the psycho term, but . . .) validation. As all of you know, family members and friends who don't understand this stupid fear, can do very little to help.

Thanks, my unseen friends!!!

Jean :wave

[Chelle]

Jean, I'm sorry for your loss :( We have that in common.. I was also pregnant with my first on my 'bad' flight, I just didn't know it at the time. A few days after we got back from Cancun, my doctor sent me for a trans-vag ultrasound because of some 'unusual' cramping (I have a history of endometriosis) and found out I was about 10wks. I also miscarried a couple days later... which of course I blamed on the stress from "the flight from @#%$". That was followed by 5 years of infertility treatment trying to conceive again. Over the course of those 5 years (in the throes of emotional instability) all I could think of was "if I hadn't had that horrible flight, I wouldn't have lost the only pregancy I will probably ever have". I blamed the loss on the flight, which I think is the real root of my phobia, rather than the flight itself.

That was then. Now, I know that 1 in 5 pregnancies miscarry, and likely had nothing to do with the flight (and, given the subsequent infertility problems, it obviously wasn't). Anyway, it's just interesting how our minds can relate things like that.

And... a little prayer to our angels in heaven :hug

[Huey]

I rode my motorcycle to the airport on 31 July 1995, which happened to be my 21st birthday. I had begun flying during the first week of the month. I gave a thorough preflight to the Cessna 172 which is registered as N73WP, owned by Tailwheels and More, at Love Field in Prescott, AZ, home field of Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University.

My parents were driving up from Phoenix to have lunch with me after my flight, but first I had to do a checkout with the aircraft owners for insurance purposes. We started up and taxied out to runway 21L, and by 10AM, it was 105 degrees at an airport that is at around 5200 feet of elevation.

Takeoff went smoothly, and the checkride pilot looks up on climbout and says, "Your [air] vent is screwed up." I look up, take my hand off the throttle, and give it a quick adjustment. As I do this, the engine seems to die and this guy starts yelling, "HOLY @#%$! OUR ENGINE'S OUT! WHERE ARE WE GOING??? WHERE ARE WE GOING???" So help me, as I lowered the nose and leveled the wings, all I could think to say was, "DOWN!". This was the right answer. (The goal is to keep flying the plane and not try to turn back to the airport. I reacted correctly, although I hadn't seen that particular "test" before.)

We land, and my instructor signs me off. Away I go. The wind changed, so now I'm off on 3R. My CFI's daughter, who was videotaping my flight, lowers the camera to save the low battery for my subsequent touch and goes, my instructor says, "Well, there's nothing I can do for him now." Watching that tape years later, I still chuckle at that.

First landing was great, and I earn the vaunted "that was a pretty good landing" from my fairly stoic CFI. (He was one of my professors, and to this day my favorite.) Crosswinds picked up on my next landing, and a fire-fighting airplane was behind me. Apparently, he thought I took too long to turn crosswind, and he said so...the jerk.

As I'm abeam the numbers on my last downwind run, tower calls for me to make an immediate turn to base. They were pulling a "squeeze play". They had traffic coming in straight to the runway, and wanted to work my in before that guy. I was a bit high and a bit fast, and was at that moment slowing down for my first notch of flaps. I looked at the runway 1100 feet below and knew there was no way I was going to be able to slow down quickly enough to go full flaps and descend as quickly as he wanted. The traffic was about 4 miles out, and there wasn't time.

I called back "unable to comply", and without batting an eye, ATC told me to extend downwind, that he'd call my base. I passed the other airplane, and got a quick call to make my turns, cleared to land. I have watched this landing on the video and I can tell the exact point where my descent stops and I make a perfect landing...at a point 1 foot above the runway. The plane stopped flying, and I dropped it in. I made 2 bounces, held my atitude, made my taxi turn with the thanks from tower for trying to work with him. (He'd been told I was initial solo before I arrived at the airport.)

After the ritual shirt cutting, I drank my first beer at 10:30 AM and didn't stop until 1AM. I kept it together long enough to have lunch with my folks and Doc (my CFI), and found out that my parents had arrived early, and I'd flown late. They's seen both of my flights. @#%$, was my old man proud. Doc had told him that I was an absolute natural born stick and rudder man (this was an ex-fighter guy talking). Dad didn't tell me this for years afterward, as he didn't want me to get a swell head. :)

It was one of the 5 best days of my life.

[WillFlyToDisney2]

Jean and Chelle - right there with ya. :grouphug

Huey - great stories!!!

Kelley

[WillFlyToDisney2]

Okay WAIT a second. I just did the math and realized that I AM OLDER THAN HUEY!!!!!!!!!! :shocked :shocked :shocked

Kelley

[xiknal]

I had had my pilot's license for about a month, and was in the middle of an aerobatics course taught by Jim Garrett, the same ex-military instructor who had taught me basic flying skills. We had just finished a lesson on spins--the maneuver in which one stalls the plane and then, in dramatic uncoordination, sets it on a vertical flight path (straight down) while whirling around with the nose about thirty degrees above the relative wind--so one isn't really pointed straight down, though it sure looks that way!

I had begun to get pretty comfy with spins, but they still had a sort of siren-song--a come-hither--to them that got my heart rate up and a strange sort of excitement and pride fired up in me. We had been doing them power-off and power-on, going around four to six times before initiating the recovery, which involves pulling the throttle to idle (if there is power), verifying the ailerons are neutral, applying full opposite rudder, and then pushing the nose forward...how far forward depended on several variables. But I had to really push and hold the elevator forward (and trust the process!) if we had gone into it with power, or if our weight was at the upper limit, or if we were well into the developed phase (starts around turn three or four). Whew...it was still a little scary but I was hooked, and fascinated.

Our training manual was The Basic Aerobatic Manual by Bill Kershner. He had been a military pilot and a test pilot for Cessna before setting up his Ace Aerobatic School in Sewanee, Tennessee (y'all in Nashville can go fly with him!). In the manual he describes--and graphs--a 21-turn spin, showing how the C-150 Aerobat he was flying goes through predictable pitch oscillations as the inertial and aerodynamic forces in the spin compete with one another. Of course, Kershner advises his readers not to take the bait...don't do this at home, folks...keep it to six turns or less, he says.

We were sitting in the flight school office...I remember it well. Jim says "I'd like to do a 21-turn spin sometime". He looked at me with a certain wild streak in his eye that reminded me he had trained Air Force pilots in T-38s for ten years. As if from someplace very far away, I heard myself say "I'd like to be there with you when you do it". Omigod...did I say that? Memories of years of groundedness washed in, images of Greek gods cast down due to hubris (tempting fate)...the thought of being in a spin that long got my heart pounding, but I knew as soon as I'd said it that we were gonna do it. Jim gave me a very serious look--a pact-making look. "OK, Barb, if you really mean it, then...we're in this together." I am nodding, still partly in that faraway place seeing destiny loom large and thinking holy $#!t.

It's not the sort of thing one just goes out and does. There's some science to it, and you have to be able to get up high. Jim had done ten turns once. Together we had done six a couple of times. We settled on a plan to do some math (to calculate the altitude needed) and wait for a crisp, clear day when we could get up as high as we wanted to. It was late August, 1994.

About a week later, on a cloudless day, we had an aerobatic lesson scheduled. We knew when we met that this could be the day. We had done our homework; we would need to climb to at least nine thousand feet to complete 21 turns and recover with a good margin of altitude remaining. I told ATC our intention to go to the practice area to 5500' for aerobatics--the usual altitude. Everything was, as they say, nominal. I was awash in adrenaline. Jim was surely zingy too, but he could sure keep his cool. As we climbed, we'd glance at each other with grins inspired by a sense of mission and a razor's edge focus. That sort of thing was old hat for him, of course. I could see how he could inspire it in new Air Force pilots. I knew it would be OK with him there. My fear and my determination bled into one another, as though they were born together. The sky seemed especially crisp and blue and lovely. Everything had an edge to it; my senses were attuned to the sumptuousness of the world, and it always seems more sumptuous on the brink. We reached 5500' and I called ATC and requested nine thousand. "That's approved". OK, up we go.

We leveled off at 9000', did a couple of clearing turns, told ATC our intentions (they'd see the altitude loss and we wanted them to know it was intentional), discussed a few details. Recover by 3500'. If anything doesn't look good, Jim takes the plane and we get out of it; otherwise Barb flies the maneuver...if 'flying' is the word for such a thing. We'll count out loud together, as before. Deep breath, let it out, carb heat on, throttle back, slow waaay down, stomp the left rudder to the floor and pull the elevator back to the stop...hold those inputs fast, and into it we go...one...two...three...it's speeding up as it always does about here...four...five..we count in unison as the chosen landmark (a straight road) whirls past again and again. I know Jim has half an eye on the altimeter as well...I am just glad to see that road go by and stay focused. No time, or room, or brain cells, available for what ifs.

It's stable. No oscillation, no more speeding up or slowing down. I am wedged against the controls but oddly at peace. I'm in unknown territory, but at other times in my life I've gone there and have never regretted it. Ten turns...halfway. The ground is clearly rising up toward us, altimeter looks good...twelve, thirteen, fourteen. This is cool. It's so stable...all of those myths about a spin just getting worse and worse as it continues are just wrong. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, "altimeter is OK", Jim says, and I shout "let's keep going!"

We reach 25 turns and Jim says "let's recover". Opposite rudder, forward pressure, two more turns and the spin stops. The ground now appears to be whirling in the opposite direction. Giggling, I pull out of the dive. We whoop and holler. The vacuum gyros have tumbled and my dizziness slowly fades. I find I can still fly while dizzy. What a thrill, what an accomplishment...we are both laughing heartily now, and Jim calls ATC to tell them we've leveled off; we're right at 3500', three thousand above the ground.

There were a few more maneuvers that day--cuban eights, immelmanns, snap rolls, says my logbook, but I don't remember them. I remember that long, whirling ride past the known universe, and well past where most pilots have gone. I remember, too, the oil streak all over the left side of the plane that we discovered after we landed back at AUS; we had thrown out a couple of quarts, in fact (still had enough, barely). I remember spending the next hour wiping the oil off. I didn't mind; it was an honorable task. I remember pilots walking by asking what happened, and the strangeness of explaining what I had just done, expecting no one to believe it. They believed it. Word got around.

I've done some other long spins, longer ones than this, but...there's nothing quite like the first time! :D

Barb

[MarcoAviator]

The vacuum gyros have tumbled

You mean that they were still spinning after the spin stopped? (I heard that can happen to old model gyros).

[MarcoAviator]

My turn ...

Saturday 2/21/2004 was a beautiful day. Back then I was a student pilot about to go on my first long solo cross-country flight. Never felt more ready for a cross country.

I check the weather, file the plan (oh yeah, we file a plan for this flight. It's Loooooooong ... only one leg is 105nm Linden to Cape May), drive to the airport, check out, pre flight, take off.

First things first: fly the plane and get settled on my trip. VOR is tuned and responsive, off we go. I get out from under the innermost rings of Newark's Bravo Space and when I am cruising at 2500 over water and I can relax a bit I start working on opening the plan. I am five minutes out I will take it into account.

So ... how do you open a plan? 122.2? 122.1? 122.3? Well... the AF/D says that Millville receives on all of these frequencies ... but where am I receiving? I know that Colts Neck is an outlet, so I put it on the receiver and try to listen.

I try once, twice, three times. I only hear garbage. I give it a break for a few minutes. Now I am 10 minutes into the flight and I am almost over the Colts Neck VOR. If I can't hear now I am doing something wrong.

I try again, saying that I am over the Colts Neck VOR. I say it twice just to make sure. And very faint, under an enormous amount of static... I can hear them over the VOR.

We struggle for a while trying to understand each other. He can hear me but I am having a hard time hearing him. Too bad. The last thing he says is that my flight plan is open. Good bye.

Phew!

Then I fly without too much fuss, along the coast and take lotsa pictures.

Here you cand find those Pictures (http://www.thepilotlounge.com/scripts/forums/index.php?showtopic=528)
(those are the same pics I uploaded to the gallery a while back, by the way).

Nothing happens here. Except that my time estimates where precise to the fraction of the minute!!!!

I got good at this planning stuff. I had to stare in disbelief at my watch, incredulous that I got my planning and times so @#%$ good! I make it to Cape May in EXACTLY 1 hour and 8 minutes. My estimate was 1:10

So I set up for my first landing.

It's a bit turbulent so I put down only one notch of flaps.

And then right at the flare ... I decide to put the plane down a bit in a hurry. Not enough nose high attitude and I touch down on all three.

It's not a jolt. It's a gentle jump. But the plane is airborne again... just a few inches away.

And then it start purpoising ... 1, 2, 3, 4 times!!!! Five bounces total!!!

Again ... nothing serious... just ... gentle and VERY VERY VERY humiliating.

After what feels like forever I finally come to the taxiway when I hear on the radio somebody saying

"Hey piper, are you taking off or what? I am turning base here"
"Hum yeah ... when that Cessna stops bouncing and gets out of the runway I'll take off"

I get out of the runway blushing to my hairline

"Cessna 172 is clear of the active, sorry about that guys!"

@#%$!

Well ... on the ground I close the plan, call my instructor to say that I am ok and alive, call my wife to say hi, have a snack and take more pics.

Then I preflight the plane again ... and I take off again.

Direction Flying W or South Jersey.

I will decide on the fly where to land. I wanna land safe, so I will chose the airport that is favored the most by the wind.

The wind was 020 at 10 when I got there ... which means Flying W, runway 1.

So I travel for a bit and keep an eye on the VORs ... until both VOR line up and tell me that I am at destination and I should see the airports.

And I don't see them.

One minute goes by and then another. I am still traveling and I am starting to get the impression that I am going to bust some airspace.

I try to re-tune the VORs and select different radials. They tell me that I am North of the airports now but when I look where they are supposed to be I still can't see them.

My initial fear and panic soon turn to anger.

How the @#%$ can I miss 2 airports? not one but TWO!!!!!

I would settle for either one of them at this point but I still can't see them

I am tuned in on the frequency and I can hear them talk.

I keep an eye out for landmarks. I can see the highway, shaped exactly as on the map.

I can see a small lake, I can see McGuire in the distance and I definitely see Philly. I can even see Philly's airport from here. It's such a beautiful sunny day and I can't see 2 freaking airports under my nose.

I am sure that I am @#%$ close to them and I can't see them.

This area is tight. McGuire is right there to the east and Philly is right to the west. I am flying low for Philly but I am getting nervous. I have been circling for about 15 minutes trying to see the airports and I can't see them. I am getting concerned I could get more confused than I already am and really bust in some airspace.

Last thing I wanna see is the business end of an F16.

Screw it. I am going to land at Princeton. I know where that is. I am familiar with the landmarks. I need a three stop cross-country and that's going to be my second stop. I got plenty of fuel (plane was full when I started ... I got at least 3 more hours to go and Linden is an hour away and Princeton is just a small detour on my way back.

Just when I made up my mind and started to go North ... Flying W!

Just where I imagined it would be: under my nose (under my left wheel to be exact).

Try to look to far in the distance for something and you will miss what's right under your ass.

I am pissed at myself.

I pass over the field. I wanna make sure this is the right place.

Runway numbers are correct. I know that runway 1 has right pattern and should be the one in use ... and to confirm a plane announces right turn for runway 1 on Flying W and there it is ... a small Cessna turning base, 1000+ feet below me.

I do my checks; I start on my way for the 45. Do the turns, pattern and land ... in anger.

The good news is that this is one of those nice center line, smooth, landings (in spite of the fact that the wind almost blew me off the runway on the numbers ... ).

I taxi back and without delay I am up in the air again (doing a short field take off ... just in case. Flying W is awfully small compared to Linden).

On the way back things start getting weird.

I notice a few things:

1 - I am going to be very late. For some reason this leg (due straight North) is taking me forever.
2 - Turbulence is increasing a lot!
3 - Airplanes landing at Newark are scaring the living @#%$ out of me.

Point number 3 is due to the fact that the jets are following a pattern that I have never seen before. They are awfully low. At some point flying at 2000 feet AGL and WELL under the 3000 feet ceiling one of them pokes under and flies at my same altitude. I am not joking.

All of a sudden I see a few miles away a 737 flying level with me. That does scare the living @#%$ out of me.

What is going on here? They are not going from a west to east pattern anymore. Now they look like they are going to the north, doing a U turn back to the south around me and Linden and then back to Newark.

What tha ...??

I am late and another student and instructor need this plane. So in plain disregard of turbulence I crank the engine to the limit of the green arc and fly as fast as I can tolerate in this bumpy air.

And i screw up: I don't check ATIS. This should go into one of those "Never Again" articles in the AOPA magazine.

It will down on me only later that ... something was happening. ATIS would have told me what but I was so much in a hurry and so busy flying and distracted by all those jets flying so @#%$ close to me that I forgot to check ATIS. Why they were flying so low is beyond me. I know I was low. I could see the cars in the streets. I knew I was way below 1400 by the time I got to the Raritan Bridge.

I try to call Linden Unicom and the school at least 5 times but nobody is answering. I can hear everybody else on 123.00 but ... no Linden. Is everybody dead?

I assume that my radio is working. It was working 5 minutes ago when I stopped talking to ATC ...

I go my usual way home from the south and it's bumpy as @#%$ ... only it's always bumpy around here in Linden, so I don't make a big deal out of it.

I see that the windsock is stiff and blowing at 90 degrees off the runway. I use 27 because it's the one I am used to and it's the one with the best escape route in case of go-around (runway 9 would smack you right into the wall of Bravo space. Going around gives you less options there, if you are in a hurry to climb).

I line up struggling with a lot of turbulence. One notch of flaps will do today.

None of this even makes me wonder what is going on.

All of the school planes are parked. This rings the first feeble alarm bell in my head.

The second alarm bell rings when I notice that I am crabbing almost 20 degrees to stay on downwind and I am doing 100 knots.

The third is the fact that base takes forever at 80 knots.

I crab without thinking and i compensate for the wind without thinking. It's pure instinct in this phase of my flying career. I do notice that I have to do it ... but it's usually after I do it and I think "OH ... I am crabbing, look at that. Nobody told me to but I am doing it".

Only today sounds more like "Holy @#%$, that's a lot of crabbing I have to do today".

Final is brutal. I am getting slapped all over the place. I have to work the yoke like some gym tool to stay on the centerline.

I go wing low automatically nowadays. I just put in crosswind correction, again, by instinct. I just do it, I don't even think about it.

So I do it: I put in crosswind correction. Then I put in more crosswind correction. Then I put in more crosswind correction. Then I put in more crosswind correction.
Then I put in MORE.

Now I know what's wrong. Now I can answer all my questions:

1 - I am late because there is a fierce wind from the North. There wasn't supposed to be any: the forecast said that the winds would stay calm through the day. Yeah right ...
2 - It's not only wind, it's turbulence and wind shear.
3 - Newark is redirecting all traffic on another runway, obviously. Usually traffic is very orderly but now it's all over the place, which means that the wind is changing right now. (that's why it was probably unpredictable).
4 - I should have listened to ATIS.

I fly the plane on the centerline, gripping the yoke and twisting as fast as I can to respond to the wind gusts. I pump those rudder pedals almost like I am on a bike.

I never landed with so much wing-low before. Wind is coming from the right .. right wing low. I try to crab & wing low at the same time .. makes for an interesting and quite crooked landing technique but I don't know what else to do.

Incredibly the first wheel touches down without a peep. Playing with the yoke and the rudder I bring the nose down and to the left. The other main touches down.

Both wheels start screeching as the wind literally pushes the plane to the left ... laterally. I take the flaps up and let the nose settle down ... and the plane stops strafing to the left ...

I apply max crosswind correction with the yoke ... and I am out of the runway and on the taxiway.

I taxi back slow and easy ...

At the school the instructors look at me like I have three heads.

"Where the @#%$ are you coming from?" they ask.
"Just got back from my X-Country, why? "
"How was your landing?"
"Had to use a lot of crosswind correction. Why are you guys all on the ground? How bad is it?"
"It's 25 gusty to 35, with low level moderate wind shear."

I need to sit down.

"Yeah yeah yeah, stop fussing around you are on land. The plane is fine. End of story" the dispatcher says ...

Hum .. yah. I am on the ground.

Flashbacks.

I look at my hands. I am not shaking. I am badly surprised. I am pissed that I didn't follow the rules. I am really burning that i didn't get ATIS before getting to Linden. Would have helped me not being so badly surprised.

But I am not shaking. I have been in worse turbulence and i know I landed in bad crosswinds before. I just did what I always do and what my instructor taught me.

that's all.

I get back up, pay say good-bye.

Later my instructor (he wasn't at the school when I landed) calls me.

"So, how did it go?"
I tell him everything.
He laughs and says, "well, can we still use the plane?"
"Heh.. yeh, it's still in one piece."
"Cool, good job then. See you next weekend, hehe". Click.

3.3 hours as PIC

[Huey]

Bill Kershner is a good guy to talk to, indeed.


" I was awash in adrenaline."

That was sweat, Barb. :)

[Passenger Mark]

The best flight, and the worse flight.

They were the same flight!

The first one! Last December from Ontario to Phoenix.

The worse, because I have never had that tough of a time getting on and staying on a plane. Because I had never, up to that day taxing to the runway, thought I was going to die. And had never before, or since had anxiety attacks as severe as the ones taxing out.

The best, because once I go my stubborn butt on the the plane, and actually DID IT, I found out that I could fly. That flight re-opened my world!

Mark

[xiknal]

That's what makes your trip report about it so special, Mark. It's full of suspense, supercharged anxiety, triumph, and inspiration.:thumbsup

Barb

[xiknal]

Marco,

That was a great story! Nothing like a few little things going wrong to remind us that it's a big responsibility when our arses are entirely at the mercy of our brains, with no one else to step in and take over. We have a few VORs like that around here, where the briefer has to talk to us over the noise of the signal, and we have to use a different freq to talk on than receive. The DPEs always throw a question about that at my students on the oral. I, too have wandered and wondered where the $#@*% airport was. On my long solo x/c as a student I couldn't find one of them (Mexia) either and somebody with a radar screen told me where to look. :doh A little stress and anxiety can sure shrink our scan. But you did great, especially with the gnarly crosswind and wind shear coming home. :banana

And yep, the gyros do keep tumbling for a few secs after the spin stops unless we keep it to four turns or so. In the spin, the attitude indicator tries at first to keep up, and then it does a funny, silly thing: it rotates to inverted and rocks back and forth. But after we recover, it assumes a sick posture and won't come out to play for 20 minutes or so. The DG whirls around, stops, then whirls to try to catch up. :crazy This continues for a bit after we recover, and it'll be 90 degrees or more off when it stops.

Huey, I sure enjoyed the solo story! How many hours did you have at that point? I would have $#@T a brick :jawdrop being given an unexpected short approach on my first solo. My trick now is to chop power, pitch up and quickly climb into the white arc, go full flaps and kick in a strong forward slip...ah, those 172s have a placard that says "AVOID slips with flaps extended", reminds me of those signs that say "avoid forest fires while walking in the woods". :noevil Well...sometimes ya can't avoid. At least we have a 9000' runway.

And yep, there was some sweat, too, before the fun began, but the adrenaline high was intense, and it lasted for several days after that spin. :hyped

[spiffyone]

I'm older than Huey too. But...though I haven't met her yet...I have done the math and realized I am YOUNGER than Monica.

And I gotta be happy about something. :hamster

[Huey]

I had 10.6 hours when I showed up on the day I was going to solo. (As I said, this was not spontaneous. We all knew it was happening that day.) My logbook shows cleared to rent the 172s solo by the Tailwheels CFI (I can't read his signature) at 11.4 hours. This was going to be my last ride before soloing, but as Doc was looking over my logbook to make sure we'd covered everything prior to signing me off, he realized he hadn't remembered to cover slips with me in our previous flights. My last logbook entry pre-solo reads "4 landings, slips, cleared to solo" and took 0.8 hours. So, I had 12.2 hours.

I've stopped training 3 times, because I moved or because of my $ignificant other. Had I not, I'd be one of those few who got it at the minimum 40.0 hours. I also had a rather unscrupulous CFI at the Marion, IA, FBO. I killed a bunch of hours flying with this guy, allowing him to convince me that I had become a menace to aviation in the 6 months between leaving Prescott and resuming flight in Cedar Rapids. I could do nothing right, and things that had come easily before were now not only imperfect, but totally wrong. According to this guy, would require many more dual hours before soloing again.

Fate intervened. I got a new officemate at work within a month or so of this. Turns out that my officemate was a pilot, too, and had flown with this guy before. He had almost 30 hours before initial solo, and another 20 before he could leave the pattern. He was not the only one to have such time consuming dual sessions. It turns out that this guy was holding students back as much as possible in order to rack up enough time for an ATP. Dan, my officemate, finally wised up when he and another 80+ hour student compared notes and realized that they were well outside the curve. I flew once more with the guy (to be fair), and as we passed over one particular airport, I mentioned that it might be a likely place to shoot some approaches on the way back. He replied that we wouldn't be doing that, since both runways had right handed patterns, and those were too advanced for me. I soloed in RHP, was very familiar with them and told him so. Didn't matter. Too advanced. I fired him then and there, as we cruised. I told him he could take the controls, but I was no longer paying for any time from that point on, or I flew back and he signed off. I think I may have the altitude record for firing someone.

I appreciate the trick on the short approach, but I've learned how to do it since then. ;)

I've heard of the recommendation not to perform full flap slips with the Cessna, but I don't think there's a prohibition, at least not that I've heard of (having not read every POH out there, I could be wrong). The reasoning is, as you know, that the flaps could block out the empennage. My understanding is that if you keep the nose down, you won't get the bobbing motion that the full flap slip may cause.

[beaugest]

And I worry when I have to fire people on the ground??? What a place to potentially piss someone off.
Spiff, I'm older than everyone on this board so I don't know if I count...

[xiknal]

I think I may have the altitude record for firing someone.

You might, but it's hard not to imagine (the) Donald or Martha firing some flustered staffperson as they winged home in a Gulfstream at 41,000' ;)

However, you surely did it with as much chutzpah and savoir faire as anyone has, and rightfully so.

I wonder what my students would say if I suddenly told them that right patterns are too advanced for them? :rotflmao One of our local airports has a RHP and it's a non-issue once they learn how to spot the numbers and do a smooth turn to base, and they get that stuff in a couple of circuits.

Too bad there are CFIs like him...but there are.

I can well believe you'd have finished in 40 hours, Huey. :tiphat Now don't get a swelled head or anything...8)