Colleagues and I have been out of town celebrating Twenty Years of Play over the last few days. Hence I haven't had a ton of time to review and brush up on recent flight lessons. The inherent mania of helping put on live electronic music shows is also still coursing through my blood along with a few other things I'm sure.
So I didn't feel as though I had my A game on at the outset today while we reviewed flying at slow speed and learned how to pull out of a zero power stall. Yes, that's where you cut power to the engine and the plane actually starts to plummet out of the sky! Ok, just kidding. Stalling is a misleading term. It's when the airflow over the wing is disrupted enough so that it is no longer generating lift. There's an hysterical screaming (analog) siren that announces a stall. I'm sure the sound is actually not quite so funny to most ... with good reason. But the thing does literally start to scream and crackle like a hoarse vocalist the worse the stall becomes.
Neither of these maneuvers are particularly difficult things to do. But both need to become second nature. Getting out of a stall or slow speed flight is basic training for pulling out of an aborted landing. Flying at slow speed is necessary for final approach. I never knew you could fly these planes at a crawling 40 mph.
After run up, where you rev the engine with the brakes on to test some key systems, Regan unexpectedly had me try my hand at taking off. But you see, I'm still learning how to steer the thing on the runway using my feet. The stick and yoke (a plane's version of a steering wheel) have absolutely no effect on what you do on the ground. It's an odd feeling but I'm getting used to it.
For some reason I just assumed it would be a while before I could actually steer the thing at full throttle down the runway. Trial by fire works sometimes I guess. After all systems checked out, I confirmed with Regan that both he and the plane were in fact insured and away we went. Without any major fanfare or commotion I managed to successfully take off. Before I knew it we were airborne. Cool. It's actually much easier than I thought.
Lots of bright yellow trees on the ground today.
I'm starting to settle in. My routine involves showing up at CFC, picking up the keys and "the can" (an aluminum binder with flight documentation), then heading out to the runway for external pre flight inspection of the plane. Through practice it is getting easier and I'm not so concerned that I've missed some lose bolt or frayed cable. I actually enjoy looking over the plane. It also gives me a chance to spy around and drool. As I strolled out onto the runway today I was met by this lovely bird, clearly marked as a military plane.
I originally thought it was some beautifully restored WWII fighter. But then I noticed the modern looking landing gear and composite material propeller. It turns out this is a T34 Mentor trainer aircraft, a very muscular looking plane. Given that my tax dollars helped pay for the thing I wonder if they'd let me take it for a quick spin?
So I didn't feel as though I had my A game on at the outset today while we reviewed flying at slow speed and learned how to pull out of a zero power stall. Yes, that's where you cut power to the engine and the plane actually starts to plummet out of the sky! Ok, just kidding. Stalling is a misleading term. It's when the airflow over the wing is disrupted enough so that it is no longer generating lift. There's an hysterical screaming (analog) siren that announces a stall. I'm sure the sound is actually not quite so funny to most ... with good reason. But the thing does literally start to scream and crackle like a hoarse vocalist the worse the stall becomes.
Neither of these maneuvers are particularly difficult things to do. But both need to become second nature. Getting out of a stall or slow speed flight is basic training for pulling out of an aborted landing. Flying at slow speed is necessary for final approach. I never knew you could fly these planes at a crawling 40 mph.
After run up, where you rev the engine with the brakes on to test some key systems, Regan unexpectedly had me try my hand at taking off. But you see, I'm still learning how to steer the thing on the runway using my feet. The stick and yoke (a plane's version of a steering wheel) have absolutely no effect on what you do on the ground. It's an odd feeling but I'm getting used to it.
For some reason I just assumed it would be a while before I could actually steer the thing at full throttle down the runway. Trial by fire works sometimes I guess. After all systems checked out, I confirmed with Regan that both he and the plane were in fact insured and away we went. Without any major fanfare or commotion I managed to successfully take off. Before I knew it we were airborne. Cool. It's actually much easier than I thought.
Lots of bright yellow trees on the ground today.
I'm starting to settle in. My routine involves showing up at CFC, picking up the keys and "the can" (an aluminum binder with flight documentation), then heading out to the runway for external pre flight inspection of the plane. Through practice it is getting easier and I'm not so concerned that I've missed some lose bolt or frayed cable. I actually enjoy looking over the plane. It also gives me a chance to spy around and drool. As I strolled out onto the runway today I was met by this lovely bird, clearly marked as a military plane.
I originally thought it was some beautifully restored WWII fighter. But then I noticed the modern looking landing gear and composite material propeller. It turns out this is a T34 Mentor trainer aircraft, a very muscular looking plane. Given that my tax dollars helped pay for the thing I wonder if they'd let me take it for a quick spin?
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