I originally wanted to title this entry, "Practice makes perfect." But in reality, my success today flying had little to do with practice. Ok, maybe more than a little but given that I only fly once per week and don't use flight simulator software I think there's also something else at work. Certainly going over the same maneuver repeatedly helps, much like learning a language or musical instrument. But it's not like I've done these things hundreds or even dozens of times yet.
Ironically, this past week I had absolutely no time to review my flight lessons, textbook or videos. I was a bit worried about this yesterday to tell you the truth. But towards the end of the day I began to wonder if just really trying to apply what I already know along with some basic common sense might get me farther along. I've been all about "learning" on many fronts these days. I read Java docs, create classes and methods. I yawn my way through old math textbooks. I chuckle along to instructional flight videos. I think often about my world, trying to see where I can improve my kung fu both mentally and physically as well as in many less tangible ways.
The fact is, I knew that today would be a review. I know how to take off, turn, climb, descend, use flaps to fly at a snail's pace, and pull out of a power off stall. I may not know all these things like second nature, but I do know them. So today I decided I would just DO them. If nothing else, I was determined at least to try and do them correctly. I will move the yoke, press the rudder, apply throttle, set trim, and make the plane do what I want, dammit. I am after all the pilot. I think I've actually been over thinking and perhaps a bit overly preoccupied with too narrow a focus towards learning all this stuff.
Driving out to the airport is always a joy. My route winds through some lovely Virginia countryside. After some twists and turns through tree-lined two lane, the road opens up into a vast expanse of sky as you near all the clear, flat land around the airport. The Blue Ridge rise majestically to the West. This time of year through most of the afternoon the sun is usually hanging low in the sky above, making an almost endlessly slow decent. The clouds often paint lovely brush strokes in random directions all over the surrounding sky.
The ante was upped immediately upon my arrival at CFC. Regan told me straight out that it was bumpy up there today. My old nemesis had seemingly returned to spar with my new "just do it" mentality. Even more challenging, there was a crosswind. I already knew this posed some issues for takeoff. Regan explained quite clearly, however, that all it really means is doing everything I have already been doing, plus one more thing. Simply put, you pre-compensate by keeping tabs on the wind's relative direction (the flight compass has a marker for this) and turning the yoke completely into or away from it. It's an odd feeling powering up to full throttle cruising rapidly down the runway with your hand on the yoke fully turned to one side. It triggers the automobile driver inside me who wants to turn the wheel back in order to control where I'm going. Nope. It's all feet. But as the plane accelerates and you approach takeoff speed you start to ease off on the crosswind compensation. The plane is actually pointed somewhat sideways as you leave the ground. You're flying in a straight line (if you're doing it right) but the plane is slightly off axis as you adjust for wind trying to blow you in different direction. Neat.
We went over some of the same routines today. I would like to get quicker at my pre flight inspection so that I'll have more time in the air. At the same time, it's not something you want to rush through. Specifically, it becomes about efficiency. I'd like to remember to take out the stepping stool first so I can check the fuel, pour it back through the caps on top of each wing, then physically inspect the fuel levels. Similarly, I'd like to get a better flow of checking the flaps, then piano wires on the aileron hinges, then look back at the wing's surfaces, instead of going back and forth. I refuse to time myself because that starts getting into the rushed mentality. But the idea of efficient flow is one I'm gonna stick to.
Apparently I did quite well at maneuvering the plane today. Getting the flaps down and flying slowly went well as did pulling out of a stall. Flying is so incredibly analog with a very sensitive and potentially unforgiving interface. But within that sensitivity lies a unique degree of autonomy. You never have full control, nature does. But you do have some input into what's going on. You can use as much of it as you like. So in the face of what you could consider complete helplessness, you also have great power. It will bite you if you abuse it and slap you if you don't. I'm reminded of the phrase from the Upanishads about the razor's edge. Piloting is so very much about precisely that.
I had a real feeling of being at the controls. I don't want to say I was "in charge." But I was determined from the outset and seem to have successfully asserted what the engineers of the Cessna 172 can provide. Move this and go there. Move it more and go there more. Combine those movements correctly, watch what you're doing, and you can actually do it right ... insofar as there is such a thing.
We did practice one new maneuver that was quite fun: correcting for a takeoff made with too high an angle of attack. Thankfully, I perform all my practice at altitude. It is practice after all and having the ground 100ft beneath me would seriously reduce the margin for error. So while up in the air you slow the plane down, then simulate takeoff by applying full throttle and pointing the nose of the plane almost straight up into the sky until the screaming stall warning starts to sing. As they say around here, yee haw. Correction comes simply by pointing the nose back down while maintaining a climb. Easy, and like I said, fun.
My relationship with the evil little ball is getting better. I'm learning more about what coordinated flight really means. It's not just about keeping the plane nicely lined up and preventing it from pitching, yawing and rolling to and fro. It's also, and perhaps more, about giving input through one control and then using another to compensate or compliment what you're trying to do. So if the wind is blowing you one way, forcing evil little ball to one side, you apply rudder to that side AND compensate with the yoke. In retrospect I want to say "duh of course." But for some reason this aspect of coordination dawned on me today much more than previously. In taking action to affect change, multiple aspects of control must be applied.
So all in all a good day. Regan said it was my best lesson yet. I had absolutely no problem with the turbulence. Until next time, nemesis. See what you get for not doing your homework? Well that's not completely true. Sometimes you do your homework in other ways. Sometimes when it's showtime you wing it confidently based on the work you've already done. I guess the trick is knowing when you can in fact do that versus when doing so is potential folly. Sometimes you "just do it" but also need some idea of exactly what to do. As I got the plane set up for landing, not something I can do yet, it started to hit me again that while incredibly fun, rewarding and more wonderful than I had ever imagined, flying isn't a game. Or if you want to call it that, it's a serious one.
Ok, now for the obligatory photo shoot. That sexy Avanti was on the ground as I walked out to inspect my plane. Man, if this plane were a woman, I'd marry it. The picture sadly comes nowhere close. I'm almost tempted to buy a real camera just so I can snap shots of this machine.
But by the same token all planes are beautiful, just like people, right? Ok, maybe not. But my little bird really is. The Cessna 172 that's been helping me learn so much is a cute little gal with no hidden surprises, unlike some I've known. She's got heart, character and class. Never pretends to be something she's not. See for yourself:
What makes her beautiful isn't just the shiny white paint or speedy stripes down her side, but the overall design, built in safety, cotter pins holding nuts in place, vinyl seats, ample engine power, cruise speed of around 130mph, location of the flight instruments, feel of the controls, the fact that she's almost forty years old, still going strong, and has likely taught hundreds of people to fly. Beauty perhaps really is in the eye of the beholder.
Ironically, this past week I had absolutely no time to review my flight lessons, textbook or videos. I was a bit worried about this yesterday to tell you the truth. But towards the end of the day I began to wonder if just really trying to apply what I already know along with some basic common sense might get me farther along. I've been all about "learning" on many fronts these days. I read Java docs, create classes and methods. I yawn my way through old math textbooks. I chuckle along to instructional flight videos. I think often about my world, trying to see where I can improve my kung fu both mentally and physically as well as in many less tangible ways.
The fact is, I knew that today would be a review. I know how to take off, turn, climb, descend, use flaps to fly at a snail's pace, and pull out of a power off stall. I may not know all these things like second nature, but I do know them. So today I decided I would just DO them. If nothing else, I was determined at least to try and do them correctly. I will move the yoke, press the rudder, apply throttle, set trim, and make the plane do what I want, dammit. I am after all the pilot. I think I've actually been over thinking and perhaps a bit overly preoccupied with too narrow a focus towards learning all this stuff.
Driving out to the airport is always a joy. My route winds through some lovely Virginia countryside. After some twists and turns through tree-lined two lane, the road opens up into a vast expanse of sky as you near all the clear, flat land around the airport. The Blue Ridge rise majestically to the West. This time of year through most of the afternoon the sun is usually hanging low in the sky above, making an almost endlessly slow decent. The clouds often paint lovely brush strokes in random directions all over the surrounding sky.
The ante was upped immediately upon my arrival at CFC. Regan told me straight out that it was bumpy up there today. My old nemesis had seemingly returned to spar with my new "just do it" mentality. Even more challenging, there was a crosswind. I already knew this posed some issues for takeoff. Regan explained quite clearly, however, that all it really means is doing everything I have already been doing, plus one more thing. Simply put, you pre-compensate by keeping tabs on the wind's relative direction (the flight compass has a marker for this) and turning the yoke completely into or away from it. It's an odd feeling powering up to full throttle cruising rapidly down the runway with your hand on the yoke fully turned to one side. It triggers the automobile driver inside me who wants to turn the wheel back in order to control where I'm going. Nope. It's all feet. But as the plane accelerates and you approach takeoff speed you start to ease off on the crosswind compensation. The plane is actually pointed somewhat sideways as you leave the ground. You're flying in a straight line (if you're doing it right) but the plane is slightly off axis as you adjust for wind trying to blow you in different direction. Neat.
We went over some of the same routines today. I would like to get quicker at my pre flight inspection so that I'll have more time in the air. At the same time, it's not something you want to rush through. Specifically, it becomes about efficiency. I'd like to remember to take out the stepping stool first so I can check the fuel, pour it back through the caps on top of each wing, then physically inspect the fuel levels. Similarly, I'd like to get a better flow of checking the flaps, then piano wires on the aileron hinges, then look back at the wing's surfaces, instead of going back and forth. I refuse to time myself because that starts getting into the rushed mentality. But the idea of efficient flow is one I'm gonna stick to.
Apparently I did quite well at maneuvering the plane today. Getting the flaps down and flying slowly went well as did pulling out of a stall. Flying is so incredibly analog with a very sensitive and potentially unforgiving interface. But within that sensitivity lies a unique degree of autonomy. You never have full control, nature does. But you do have some input into what's going on. You can use as much of it as you like. So in the face of what you could consider complete helplessness, you also have great power. It will bite you if you abuse it and slap you if you don't. I'm reminded of the phrase from the Upanishads about the razor's edge. Piloting is so very much about precisely that.
I had a real feeling of being at the controls. I don't want to say I was "in charge." But I was determined from the outset and seem to have successfully asserted what the engineers of the Cessna 172 can provide. Move this and go there. Move it more and go there more. Combine those movements correctly, watch what you're doing, and you can actually do it right ... insofar as there is such a thing.
We did practice one new maneuver that was quite fun: correcting for a takeoff made with too high an angle of attack. Thankfully, I perform all my practice at altitude. It is practice after all and having the ground 100ft beneath me would seriously reduce the margin for error. So while up in the air you slow the plane down, then simulate takeoff by applying full throttle and pointing the nose of the plane almost straight up into the sky until the screaming stall warning starts to sing. As they say around here, yee haw. Correction comes simply by pointing the nose back down while maintaining a climb. Easy, and like I said, fun.
My relationship with the evil little ball is getting better. I'm learning more about what coordinated flight really means. It's not just about keeping the plane nicely lined up and preventing it from pitching, yawing and rolling to and fro. It's also, and perhaps more, about giving input through one control and then using another to compensate or compliment what you're trying to do. So if the wind is blowing you one way, forcing evil little ball to one side, you apply rudder to that side AND compensate with the yoke. In retrospect I want to say "duh of course." But for some reason this aspect of coordination dawned on me today much more than previously. In taking action to affect change, multiple aspects of control must be applied.
So all in all a good day. Regan said it was my best lesson yet. I had absolutely no problem with the turbulence. Until next time, nemesis. See what you get for not doing your homework? Well that's not completely true. Sometimes you do your homework in other ways. Sometimes when it's showtime you wing it confidently based on the work you've already done. I guess the trick is knowing when you can in fact do that versus when doing so is potential folly. Sometimes you "just do it" but also need some idea of exactly what to do. As I got the plane set up for landing, not something I can do yet, it started to hit me again that while incredibly fun, rewarding and more wonderful than I had ever imagined, flying isn't a game. Or if you want to call it that, it's a serious one.
Ok, now for the obligatory photo shoot. That sexy Avanti was on the ground as I walked out to inspect my plane. Man, if this plane were a woman, I'd marry it. The picture sadly comes nowhere close. I'm almost tempted to buy a real camera just so I can snap shots of this machine.
But by the same token all planes are beautiful, just like people, right? Ok, maybe not. But my little bird really is. The Cessna 172 that's been helping me learn so much is a cute little gal with no hidden surprises, unlike some I've known. She's got heart, character and class. Never pretends to be something she's not. See for yourself:
What makes her beautiful isn't just the shiny white paint or speedy stripes down her side, but the overall design, built in safety, cotter pins holding nuts in place, vinyl seats, ample engine power, cruise speed of around 130mph, location of the flight instruments, feel of the controls, the fact that she's almost forty years old, still going strong, and has likely taught hundreds of people to fly. Beauty perhaps really is in the eye of the beholder.
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