Finally committing a bunch of backlogged posts, whoops
This commit is contained in:
R. Tyler Croy
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layout: post
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title: "Reports of Quacking over Danville"
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tags:
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- aviation
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- flying
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---
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After a long week of entirely fogged in mornings, and therefore no flying,
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today was just about as *perfect* as it could possibly be. Unfortunately my
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instructor was all booked, but that didn't prevent me from going for a flight
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by myself.
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The "twist" for today's lesson was that I would be departing the pattern above
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Hayward and flying around in the Mt. Diablo practice area commonly used by the
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flight school.
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After hanging around the school for a bit, eating my lunch and shooting the
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shit for a bit, I drove through the gate and down to pre-flight.
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My current pre-flight procedure includes checking the fuel before anything
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else, today this pattern finally paid off. While the fuel truck filled up [Ugly
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Duckling](http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/8920019697/), I finished up my
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inspection.
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Instead of heading towards 28L, I taxied towards 28R and took off heading east
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towards Mount Diablo.
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<img
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src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/danville-sectional.png"
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align="right" alt="Danville"/>
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Passing Lake Chabot, I climb to 3000ft, go through my climb checklist and start
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to ponder how I'm going to perform the manuevers I set out to perform. As I
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crossed the hills, I see a plane turning about 20 miles straight ahead.
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"Damnit" I think to myself, traffic means more stress in my head while I
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practice.
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I performed a few clearing 360 turns to double-check for more traffic, and
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started setting up for some slow flight manuevers over I-680. As I slowed to
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around 60 knots, I became a bit uneasy with my situation. Hadn't flown in a
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week, was by myself and things felt *slow.* I decided that I'd get to
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slow-flight later after I got more comfortable by myself.
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Generally I found myself "playing around" more than not. Ground reference
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manuevers, climbing and descending turns, forward slips, side-slips, and of
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course slow flight.
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With a good 10-15 knot wind at altitude, taking advantage of the situation I
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started to perform practice patterns, and approaches to runways which didn't
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exist. On previous lessons I had trouble with cross-wind approaches. I was
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determined to get the cowl lined up on my fake centerline, and get a feel for
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how much drift and rudder stomping was necessary to perform a good cross-wind
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landing.
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Satisfied with my hour's worth of work, I started picking out landmarks to make
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sure I took the right track towards Hayward. I could see Livermore, Mount
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Diablo, and I-680 from the cockpit. "But which cities are these stupid ones
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down here?" I grumble to myself, glancing back and forth between the windshield
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and my chart. Gazing westward and I was able to pick out the San Mateo Bridge,
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and start pointing the nose towards Hayward.
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My approach and entry to Hayward's airspace was near flawless, and I entered
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a right base approach for 28R. All my solo work has been on 28L, the giant mile
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long runway, I haven't actually landed on the puny 28R in a while.
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Carb heat on, gas on both, undercarriage present, mixture rich, prop is there,
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seatbealts on, landing clearance received.
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Lined up, speed looking good, flaps lowered to 20 degrees. I fly over the grass
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speeding towards 28R, start my flare, my airspeed slows, I keep pulling back, staring at
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the end of the runway, I keep pulling back and the wheels gently touch down
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shortly past the numbers, right on the centerline.
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On previous lessons, I felt excited about the pattern work and the plethora of
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landings performed. On this lesson, I felt excited about **one** landing, it
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was exhilarating.
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----
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Flying is **fun**, I can't recommend it enough. Tomorrow I'll be going up
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again, for the first time in almost two weeks, I won't be alone.
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---
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layout: post
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title: "Sweating the Stall Stuff"
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tags:
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- aviation
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- flying
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---
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Thus far I've never received a dual lesson with my instructor on a Sunday, as
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it's his only day off. Today we managed to get up in the air on a Sunday
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afternoon for some instruction covering steep turns, stall recovery and spin
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prevention.
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I've taken the approach with my instructor that one would take with their
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lawyer, honesty is the best option. The way I see it, the best way to receive
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good instruction is to make sure that my instructor knows what I'm feeling
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apprehensive about, so we can work through that apprehension instead of hiding
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it.
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<img src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/stall.jpg"
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align="right" alt="Stalled airflow on a wing" clear="all"/>
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Truth be told, spins as a concept have terrified me, their predecessor: stalls,
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also give me the willies. A stall is when the airflow on the top side of the
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wing is disrupted, causing the wing to no longer produce lift. A spin however,
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is when one wing stalls more, drops, and the plane starts spiraling towards the
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ground.
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The thought of getting into such a situation is daunting for me, the mental
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imagery of the ground spinning towards me in the windscreen isn't a favorable
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one. I've been up front with my instructor on this front, and accordingly,
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today's lesson we were going to work through it.
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----
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With a thorough briefing prior to the flight, we head to the parking ramp and I
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set to pre-flighting the Ugly Duckling. Everything looking good, we taxi out to
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28R where I'm then to perform a soft-field takeoff. The general pattern of my
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pilot training has been such I'm never allowed to remain too comfortable for
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too long, flight time is too expensive to waste time piddling around within my
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comfort zone.
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I managed to get us off the ground safely, but as was the case when I first
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started learning to take-off, my feet haven't been doing the appropriate amount
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of work to keep things lined up.
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Either way, I turn towards Mt. Diablo, climb to 1300ft until we're clear of an
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Oakland Class C airspace shelf. Passing Lake Chabot, I initiate a climb, set
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the trim, and relax a bit.
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----
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When I left the office yesterday, my instructor told me "don't get sick" when
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referring to the steep turns we were to be performing today. Given the type of
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person I am, I thought "like hell was I going to get queasy!" But also, given
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the type of person I am, I wasn't going to take chances and made sure to eat my
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lunch earlier rather than later, just in case.
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He demonstrates a steep turn, at 45-ish degrees and I can definitely feel the
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queasiness in my stomach. Clenching my jaw and tightening my stomach, I focus on
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where the horizon cuts through the plane's cowl, making sure I know what
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"correct" looks like. One to the left, and immediately into one to the right.
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Control is exchanged from the right to left seat and I start going into a
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leftward turn. Little bit extra power and back pressure to hold the turn
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properly, and there's no queasiness. I'm not even sure there's extra G-force
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until my instructor tells me to try to lift my arm from the throttle.
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My theory on the lack of gastro-discomfort when at the controls is that my
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brain treats the airplane as an extension of myself, not too dissimilar to the
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perceptions one has when driving a car. "See the plane, be the plane" I can
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imagine my instructor quipping; it's just a theory.
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With the steep turns done to the right seat's satisfaction, we climb to 5000ft
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to perform some emergency descents. I won't dwell too much on these manuevers,
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suffice it to say, they're fun. Similar to my joy in [forward
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slips](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slip_%28aerodynamic%29#Forward-slip),
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there's just something entertaining about getting a plane down *fast*.
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The only thing left on the menu at this point are stalls and spin prevention.
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Heading northwest, we enter a continuous stall manuever. Wherein I hold the
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yoke as far back as I can, the plane continuously stalls as we descend, and I
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keep the wings level by stomping on the rudder of the high wing, to prevent
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spins. Not having practiced stall recovery in a number of weeks, I could
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definitely feel the beads of sweat on my forehead as I strained to hold the
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yoke back, cautiously eyeing the horizon through the left side of the
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windscreen.
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Urging me to let one wing drop a bit further before I stomp the rudder, I
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refused to give my instructor the satisfaction. "If I just keep these damned
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wings level, I'll be fine" I think.
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After enough altitude is lost, we terminate the exercise and start playing with
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navigation by compass, and identifying how utterly crap compasses are in
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airplanes. Sufficiently disgusted in the compass' performance, we climb again
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to around 5000ft and start *another* series of continuous stalls.
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Heading southwest this time, my level of perspiration unchanged, the plane is
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on the precipice of a stall and I hear "oh, this is going to be good!" from the
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right seat.
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"Who says shit like that?" I think, or maybe I said it, I can't remember.
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The right seat gets its wish. I accidentally let one of the wings drop too low,
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I step on the right rudder, but we keep tilting to the left. I finally give the
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pedal a good stomping, the plane yaws back to the right and I dance around on
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the pedals getting us back to wings level. One or two more, and I get the
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point: **stalled doesn't mean out of control**.
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As we head back towards Hayward, he points out that my trajectory is a poor
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one, practically zero emergency landing areas below as I cross the hills
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between Dublin and Hayward. Another good point in an already jampacked lesson,
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I'm still working on my situational awareness, in addition to everything else
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important to fly safely.
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During my approach, the steps to performing a short-field landing are explained to
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me. With a fantastic wind, straight down the pipe, I manage to perform a good
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short landing, and taxi off the runway to parking.
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Done with the challenges for the day, my mouth dry and my shirt damp, we head
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back to the office to debrief.
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---
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layout: post
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title: "Landing in Seven Three..uh.. Eight Victor Uniform"
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tags:
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- aviation
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- flying
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---
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After almost ten days of foggy mornings and scheduling mishaps, I was finally
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able to get back up into the air this morning, in
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[738VU](http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/9169914387/). Unfortunately the
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Ugly Duckling has been having its annual maintenance done for the past week,
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leaving the California Airways fleet one plane short, and forcing yours truly
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into a less welcoming bird.
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Before heading to bed last night, my instructor set up our plan of attack
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should we be fogged out again this morning, but as luck would have it the skies
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were perfect. A very welcome change of pace compared to the many of the recent
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mornings in the bay area.
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---
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/9169914387/" title="N738VU by
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agentdero, on Flickr"><img
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src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5452/9169914387_03d53697b6_n.jpg"
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width="320" height="240" alt="N738VU" align="right"></a>
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The differences between 738VU and my "usual" plane were noticable starting from
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the preflight. Instead of fetching the special aviation plastic step-stool from
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the baggage compartment to check the fuel, I could stand on the steps, one on
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the fuselage and one on the wing strut. Entering the plane, the more modern
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electronics required a slightly different workflow as well. Unlike the older
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avionics in the Ugly Duckling, things worked more automatically in 738VU, no
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gyros precessing which require tedious calibration, clearly displayed numbers
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and helpful buttons for updating current weather information quickly.
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Ease of use, bah. I don't care for it.
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A couple of times between taxi and the soft-field take-off I performed, I managed
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to either delay or entirely flub my callsign, 737GM and 738VU are close enough
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to allow my muscle memory to screw things up.
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As I took off a **big** difference between the Ugly Duckling and this plane was
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made apparent. Ugly Duckling **loves** to fly, it jumps off the runway and
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climbs like a champ, thanks to the [STOL](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/STOL)
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kit installed by the owner. 738VU in comparison, seems reluctant to fly. Ugly
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Duckling's engine is loud and obnoxious and lets itself be known when operating
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at max power, this other plane buzzed along as it timidly climbed out of
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Hayward.
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After escaping under Oakland's Class C veil, the right seat yanks my power out
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and I start bumbling through the emergency landing procedures. We're coming
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down towards a golf course in a valley between two hills and I start to
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hesitate. Instructor terminates the exercise, I climb back up and we continue
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on towards the practice area.
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I'm rusty.
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---
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In the practice area, we work on steep turns, power-on stall recovery and
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emergency descents. Nothing terribly noteworthy, the aviation equivalent of
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crunches and push-ups, plain and simple work.
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After completing the emergency descent, I call up
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[Livermore](airnav.com/airport/klvk) (KLVK) and head towards the pattern for
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some soft-field landing practice. Having never performed the maneuver, my
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instructor demonstrates, handing back the controls after a touch-and-go.
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Entering the crosswind and downwind legs of the pattern are a bit sloppy, turns
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out the rest of the circuit was sloppy, approach included, and I ended up going
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around.
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Definitely rusty.
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The second time around, the pattern was much cleaner, the approach was *decent*
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but as I got close to the runway I entered hyper-focus mode on the soft-field
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aspects of the exercise, and not enough on the *landing* part of it.
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Due to time we taxied back to the start of 25L, performed a short-field
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take-off and headed back to Hayward.
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Entering the approach for 28R at Hayward, I felt confident I could put the bird
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down cleanly on my home turf. Base leg was a bit low, approach felt good but as
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we descended through the last 50ft it started to feel like my feet were
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slipping out from under me towards the left. Go-around has become more
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reflexive, so I crammed the power and floated upwards. Instructor insisted I
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could salvage the landing, something he later pointed out was okay since he was
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in the plane with me. I dropped the power out, resumed my descent and
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performed a plain-jane-landing without issue on the remaining 1300ft of 28R.
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Lesson over, back to parking.
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---
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I'm glad I identified how rusty I can become early. I don't think I'll rust as
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quickly with more experience, but it's important to recognize that unused skills
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degrade over time. Flying a plane is not like riding a bike, or like driving a
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car, it's a different beast entirely. The best way to fly safe, as far as I can
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tell, is to *fly often*, keeping skills and judgement sharp.
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While i'm not thrilled with my flight, I can point at areas which require more
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focus and practice in the near future, which means it was at least forward
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progress.
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---
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layout: post
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title: "Floating over imaginary sod"
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tags:
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- aviation
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- flying
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---
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Wiping the crud from my sleepy 6am eyes, I shut off my alarm and grab my tablet
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off the nightstand. As is becoming increasingly common, my days are starting
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with weather before I even leave the bed. I open up the forecast for Hayward:
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clear skies, winds at 0 knots.
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"*Shit*, I have to wake up now"
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My desire to fly, and desire to sleep are at odds with one another during these
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critical early morning minutes. Grumpy for no good reason, I throw my junk into
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the car to drive down to Hayward.
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---
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On the menu for today in
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[738VU](http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/9169914387/) is a lesson full of
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nothing but short-field take-offs/landings, and soft-field take-offs/landings.
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Staying in the pattern makes for a very productive lesson thanks to Haywards
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unique low pattern altitudes.
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Pre-flight complete, and into the cockpit we go. Turning the appropriate knobs,
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flipping some switches and the engine start checklist is complete, I enter
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Hayward's frequencies into the Garmin and make my initial full call up from
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parking to Hayward Tower.
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I realize my mistake before Tower even responds.
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"Hayward Tower, Seven Three Eight VIctor Uniform contact ground point four"
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Damnit. My instructor smirks, his silence has paid dividends, he saw the
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mistake coming from a mile away.
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Every time I get a little too yeah-i'm-a-pilot-neener-neener confident, some
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minor mistake brings me back down to earth where I'm still just an error-prone
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student pilot.
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"Hayward *Ground*, Cessna Seven Three Eight Victor Uniform at the green ramp
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with information xray, request taxi to Two Eight Right"
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Clearance from ground received we putter off towards the run-up area for 28R.
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---
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My first soft-field take-off I act too timidly with the rudder pedals,
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resulting in us gaining our speed left of centerline, before climbing out.
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Coming around in the circuit, as was the case the day before, my circuit is
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sloppy as is my approach. A go-around ensued as a result, I seem to have a
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habit of needing at least one crappy circuit in order to relax enough to tune
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everything in for the next time around.
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<center><img
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src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/soft-field-landing.jpg"
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alt="Soft field landing" width="800"/></center>
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Coming around again, the circuit is crisper, the approach isn't terrible but a
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little right cross-wind (seriously, very little) nudges me left. My hyperfocus
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on the "soft-field" part of "soft-field landing" kicks in and we end up finding
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the runway left of centerline with a moderate jostling.
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I don't know if they ever name runways after people, but if they do, I hope
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they name the left half of 28R after me for all the time I've spent there.
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That'd be a real nice gesture.
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Over the next few circuits I start to hone in on a proper soft-field landing.
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My instructor is satisfied so we switch over to practicing short-field
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landings.
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Soft-field is all about putting the plane down as gently as possible,
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short-field is all about precision landing, and stopping the plane. Meaning
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my habit of floating in ground effect for 500ft down the runway had to be
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eliminated, my power needed to be reigned in on final approach, and I had to
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get over my worry of hitting the grass leading up to 28R.
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The approach to 28R feels all wrong visually, you cross a big 30ft tree, a
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big street, the parking lot behind California Airways, what feels like an
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eternity's worth of run-up area, some grass and then *finally* the runway
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starts (you can see for yourself [in this
|
||||
video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=brquAtMjNGE&t=101)).
|
||||
|
||||
I always feel too low, so I carry power on my final, which causes prolonged
|
||||
float during the landing flare.
|
||||
|
||||
We worked through that however, and towards the end of the lesson I was
|
||||
crossing the big tree with my power to idle, allowing me to put the plane down
|
||||
pretty much right on the numbers. It took 4 or 5 tries to get speed, power,
|
||||
glide slope and my head all working in concert correctly, but before the lesson
|
||||
was up, I think I was getting it.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Putting in a good, productive lesson feels great, and helps ensure that
|
||||
"flying" always wins over "sleeping in" on mornings when I have lessons
|
||||
scheduled.
|
||||
|
||||
With the basics of soft-field and short-field work there, I can now come back
|
||||
over the weekend and start gaining more experience with the techniques by
|
||||
flying the pattern solo for a bit.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,135 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
layout: post
|
||||
title: "Bouncing over to Concord"
|
||||
tags:
|
||||
- aviation
|
||||
- flying
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
After a completely stressful week filled with project deadlines and a summons
|
||||
for jury duty, this past Saturday I finally managed to get back up into the
|
||||
air. Like the weekend before it, which I neglected to blog about, I was flying
|
||||
in yet *another* plane in the California Airways fleet. With a couple planes of
|
||||
the fleet in for annual maintenance, the only bird available was 733PV
|
||||
|
||||
Superficially the plane looks like 172CA, the first plane I ever flew in, but
|
||||
underneath the hood (literally) is a different engine. The cockpit was largely
|
||||
the same as well, except for my view out the front windshield, probably 3-4
|
||||
inches shorter than what I'm accustomed to.
|
||||
|
||||
While I preflight, my instructor and I notice the anomalous number of Bonanzas
|
||||
flying in and out of Hayward. There are plenty of general aviation aircraft
|
||||
that fly in and out of the field on the weekends, but it's uncommon to see more
|
||||
of one type in a 10 minute time span, other than a Cessna 172.
|
||||
|
||||
I've fantasized about owning a Bonanza, they're spacious and fast, but drink
|
||||
avgas at a rate that scares the hell out of me.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Hopping in the cockpit, everything is laid out largely the same, I go through
|
||||
my engine start checklist and start the engine. "Three Papa ViC" springs alive,
|
||||
I continue through the before taxi checklist, call up Ground, making damned
|
||||
sure I'm on the right frequency, and I hear nothing.
|
||||
|
||||
I notice some flickering text on the Garmin 430, think nothing of it, and start
|
||||
to tune my secondary radios when the right seat reaches over, and turns up the
|
||||
volume on Comm 1.
|
||||
|
||||
"Sorry about that Ground, had my volume low, say again?"
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
*Yeah-i'm-a-pilot-neener-neener.*
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Taxi clearance received, we putter off towards 28R.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
As we meander up to the hold short line for 28R, my instructor says "give me a
|
||||
short field take-off." Okie doke I say, and then slowly mosey over the numbers,
|
||||
and he reiterates "**short** field." Oh right, I was lining up for a soft field
|
||||
take-off, I just burned about 50 feet on my short field runway. Feet on the
|
||||
brakes, I cram the throttle, release, and we're accelerating as fast as
|
||||
Three-Papa-Vic can.
|
||||
|
||||
Around 06 knots we lift off, and I hold the nose as high as I think I can
|
||||
without stalling until about 300 feet, turn right, and start climbing in the
|
||||
direction of [Byron](http://airnav.com/airport/c83).
|
||||
|
||||
Climbing over the hills I notice a glint of sunlight in the sky straight ahead.
|
||||
A plane, but the glint was all I saw of it. My instructor points out traffic
|
||||
off our left wing a few thousand feet flying the other direction, I didn't see
|
||||
him until he was abeam us. My traffic scanning abilities are definitely not as
|
||||
sharp as my instructor's.
|
||||
|
||||
As we close in on Byron, we talk about navigaton using GPS, but primarily VORs.
|
||||
VOR stations broadcast a special directional signal in a circle, like spokes on
|
||||
a bike spreading out from a fixed point (the station). Using these you can
|
||||
triangulate your position and navigate.
|
||||
|
||||
Tuned-in to Concord's VOR, we start heading northward on the eastern side of
|
||||
Mount Diablo when my instructor spots *more* traffic. Another 172 up and to the
|
||||
left of us, and a *lot* closer than I'm comfortable with. "Uhh...I should turn
|
||||
right..right?" "Yeah, why don't you make a full 360 and we'll just let him get
|
||||
ahead of us." Technically we had the right of way, but the only way he could
|
||||
have seen us is if he had a glass-bottomed 172. It was a perfect blindspot, he
|
||||
was hidden by my high left wing, and I was hidden by his fuselage below, our
|
||||
paths slowly converging.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Continuing northward, we stop by to see the *actual* VOR station. In Concord's
|
||||
case, it's sitting in a field or a marsh of some sort, and is pretty easy to
|
||||
spot, a white Chess pawn jutting up from the surrounding green.
|
||||
|
||||
Spotting the reserve fleet, I ask if we can check it out, and I practice turns
|
||||
on a point while I inspect the collection of naval supply ships, mothballed for
|
||||
future use. Satisfied with my sight-seeing diversion, the right seat requests a
|
||||
landing at [Concord](http://airnav.com/airport/kccr).
|
||||
|
||||
After making my request to enter their airspace, I start negotiating the right
|
||||
way to enter the pattern for runway 32R. Not thinking we would possibly go to
|
||||
Concord, I didn't have any of airport details with me, just the frequencies for
|
||||
radios that I could read from my sectional charts.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
As I come around for approach number one, I'm both fast and high, staring down
|
||||
a *long* runway. The right seat's requested a soft field landing, the left seat
|
||||
was planning *a* landing. Flaps all the way in, power out, I cross the
|
||||
runway threshold somewhere between 300 and 400 feet, descent continues, I
|
||||
contemplate going around but this runway is **enormous**. The wheels chirp
|
||||
further down than the halfway point on the runway and we exit the runway and
|
||||
contact ground.
|
||||
|
||||
Concord's taxiways suck. Not only did I not have my plates with me for the
|
||||
airport, I've nveer studied it too much, and Concord is "alphabet soup"
|
||||
according to my instructor. He advises me to write to my taxi clearance when
|
||||
they call it over the radio.
|
||||
|
||||
After waiting for plenty of landing traffic, we get clearance to take-off from
|
||||
32R again.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Another circuit around, a lower approach, but too much speed. The wheels chirp,
|
||||
and we bounce up, then settle back down onto the runway. I bounced. Damnit.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Heading back to Hayward wasn't terrifically eventful, other than I my subpar
|
||||
landing back at "home" was actually on the right side of centerline for once.
|
||||
Tired from a nigh two hour lesson, I taxi back to parking, putting the hose
|
||||
wheel perfectly on the "T" that denotes the parking spot.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
"See! You can find a centerline!"
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Another lesson down, another list of things to work on.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,159 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
layout: post
|
||||
title: "Climbing through the soup"
|
||||
tags:
|
||||
- aviation
|
||||
- flying
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
With increasingly foggy and overcast weekday mornings, my flight instructor and
|
||||
I have had a few missed lessons due to clouds. This past Tuesday he decided to
|
||||
file an IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) flight plan to get us out of Hayward and
|
||||
to another part of the region with clearer skies.
|
||||
|
||||
That in mind, I arrived at the airport early and started checking the weather.
|
||||
Not only did Hayward have low ceilings, so did Oakland, Livermore and Concord.
|
||||
Fortunately for us, we were planning on heading even further east of Livermore,
|
||||
to Byron.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
While preflighting 738VU, we discussed some of the game plan for getting out of
|
||||
Hayward. My instructor would work the radios to a large extent, but I would be
|
||||
flying the actual departure. I'm not instrument rated by a long shot, but
|
||||
fortunately the FAA has deemed some flying through the clouds as necessary to
|
||||
ensure the VFR pilot's safety, and I have to log 3 hours anyways. Most student
|
||||
pilots accrue their hours by wearing goggles, or a hood that simulates clouds.
|
||||
Lucky for me, I would be logging cloud-time when in *real* clouds.
|
||||
|
||||
"We're going to climb to 600 feet, then turn left to 160 okay? Keep your eyes
|
||||
on the panel, even if you look up for a second you'll start to get disoriented"
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
I pondered that last sentence for few minutes while we waited for our "hold" to
|
||||
clear on the taxiway. Hayward Tower needed to poke a hole in Oakland's approach
|
||||
sequence to let our puny little 172 fly through their flight path.
|
||||
|
||||
"Not even a second? Shit." I think to myself. I kind of wanted to look out the
|
||||
windshield into the white abyss as we passed through the clouds. I wonder if it
|
||||
really takes a second, surely I could sneak one quick look couldn't I?
|
||||
|
||||
Tower's cleared us for departure, I line up on the runway, take a deep breath
|
||||
and cram the throttle forward. After rotation, we still have about 1000 feet
|
||||
before the bases of the clouds. I focus intensely on keeping our heading, first
|
||||
285 until we reach 600ft, then I turn left to 160 and zero in on my panel. In
|
||||
my peripheral vision I can see the buildings below on the left, so I focus even
|
||||
more intently on my panel.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
And we're in the clouds.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
738VU has a funky panel, there's this nice digital display which sits smack in
|
||||
the middle of the left panel. Attitude indicator, wind speed, heading
|
||||
indicator, vertical speed indicator, turn coordinator, altimeter, and probably
|
||||
5-6 other bits of data on this 4" by 8" screen.
|
||||
|
||||
My eyes darting between the bearing on the heading indicator and the
|
||||
attitude indicator. As long as I keep our wings level and climbing, and so long
|
||||
as we stay on the right heading, we'll survive and the controller won't bark at
|
||||
me on the radio. I don't even see the clouds,
|
||||
|
||||
I barely notice any white soup in my periphery, we continue climbing.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
The controller instructs us to turn to 180. Normally, I'm fond of hearty 30
|
||||
degree turns, but in IFR, you're supposed to keep it at 15 degree "standard
|
||||
rate turns." Gingerly I move the yoke and depress the rudder pedal,
|
||||
hyperfocused on the panel. We continue climbing.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
We pop out of the soup at about 2300ft, make one more turn to 090, and continue
|
||||
climbing.
|
||||
|
||||
Leveling off at 3500ft, I'm finally able to really take in the spectacle of a
|
||||
mat of clouds covering the expanse from Hayward to Mount Diablo. The controller
|
||||
informs us of traffic at our 11 o'clock, a Boeing 777. The radio and the skies
|
||||
are silent, nothing existed but my instructor, myself and the tubby Boeing
|
||||
heading southward.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Byron sits on the eastern side of a range of hills which successfully keep the
|
||||
clouds penned in to the west. What it lacked in clouds, Byron made up for in
|
||||
wind, around 16 knots from the south west. With the field to ourselves, we
|
||||
started our landing work.
|
||||
|
||||
First circuit and approach was laughably sloppy.
|
||||
|
||||
Second circuit wasn't much better, but I was at least getting my bearings
|
||||
correct, even though I hadn't landed with such forceful winds before.
|
||||
|
||||
Third time around, "turn downwind here" the right seat commands. Dutifully I
|
||||
turn left, assuming he's not been happy with my typical "B-52 patterns."
|
||||
|
||||
"Make the runway" he states after yanking the power out.
|
||||
|
||||
Oh right, we're practicing that while we're here too. I quickly roll the trim
|
||||
wheel all the way down and we balloon up to best-glide, starting the emergency
|
||||
landing process. We go through a few more circuits, and a few more emergency
|
||||
landings, short, and soft-field landings.
|
||||
|
||||
Before leaving, we line up for runway 30, instead of 23 which we had been
|
||||
using. We intentionally approach the wrong runway so my instructor can
|
||||
demonstrate what maximum cross-wind component means for the Cessna 172. The
|
||||
handbook for the plane puts it at 15 knots of direct (90 degree) cross-wind, we
|
||||
had 16.
|
||||
|
||||
Descending through 200 feet, trying to maintain centerline, I run out of
|
||||
rudder, and the wind just continues to push us right of the runway. There's no
|
||||
way I'm landing in this much cross-wind, if this were a non-lesson, I would be
|
||||
diverting to another field or runway with more favorable conditions. We
|
||||
terminate the exercise at about 100ft, I make a turbulent right turn and we depart
|
||||
the field, back towards Hayward.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
At our cruising altitude my instructor reaches into the back seat and pulls out
|
||||
his IFR training glasses.
|
||||
|
||||
"Put these on"
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
My sunglasses come off, and the dork-goggles come on, restricting my vision to
|
||||
just the instrument panel. He picks up IFR clearance with the controller again,
|
||||
and we start to get vectored into position to make an approach into Hayward.
|
||||
As with our departure, I'm hyperfocused on the panel, trying to keep my heading
|
||||
while making boring standard rate turns.
|
||||
|
||||
Entering the soup, I start shadowing the controls more. I can't see him in my
|
||||
peripheral vision, but I know he's lining up our approach, looking at the panel
|
||||
on the left side of the plane from his seat on the right.
|
||||
|
||||
Dork goggles on, in clouds, lining up an approach, I'm not even flying the
|
||||
plane and I'm stressed.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
We descend out of the clouds around 1300ft and I am given full controls back
|
||||
with the instruction "give me one more soft-field landing."
|
||||
|
||||
A light jolt and chirp of the wheels and 738VU is on the ground, with 1 and a
|
||||
half pilots who just safely navigated the abyss.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
We shutdown and secure the plane, my instructor and I both beaming, thrilled to
|
||||
have gotten some instrument flying in.
|
||||
|
||||
I didn't have much time to revel in the accomplishment, and hustled off to a
|
||||
regular work day. shifting one set of stresses and joys out of my head for
|
||||
another completely different one.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
The double life continues.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,169 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
layout: post
|
||||
title: "Monterey for almost lunch"
|
||||
tags:
|
||||
- aviation
|
||||
- flying
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
After a brief hiatus, this past Saturday my instructor and I embarked on the
|
||||
next part of my flight training: cross-country flying. Up until now, everything
|
||||
has been within 20-30nm (nautical miles) from
|
||||
[Hayward](http://airnav.com/airport/khwd) (KHWD). I originally planned a flight
|
||||
up to [Santa Rosa](http://airnav.com/airport/ksts), but an airshow this weekend
|
||||
caused me to look for alternative destinations.
|
||||
|
||||
Many members of the flight club will fly cross-countries to
|
||||
[Modesto](http://airnav.com/airport/kmod) or [Sacramento
|
||||
Executive](http://airnav.com/airport/ksac), but both of those destinations are
|
||||
eastward and bake with triple-digit temperatures most days, not my cup of tea.
|
||||
I decided we would head southward to [Monterey](http://airnav.com/airport/kmry)
|
||||
(KMRY) and cool ocean breezes.
|
||||
|
||||
<center><img
|
||||
src="http://agentdero.cachefly.net/unethicalblogger.com/images/kmry.png"
|
||||
alt="Monterey"/></center>
|
||||
|
||||
When calling for a weather briefing, I've always introduced myself as a student
|
||||
pilot which nets friendly explanations on occasion. When asked my
|
||||
destination, I responded "Monterey .. uhh, do want all my way points too?" The
|
||||
briefer paused "oh yeah, that'll be really important," he then went on to
|
||||
explain the process, why the FAA wants to know certain pieces of information,
|
||||
helped me file my flight plan and then gave me a full standard weather
|
||||
briefing.
|
||||
|
||||
9:30 in the morning and the lesson had already started.
|
||||
|
||||
My instructor arrived and we began to discuss the flight, reviewing my fuel
|
||||
burn, planned speeds, altitudes and route of flight. While not perfect, I was
|
||||
able to justify my decisions for my routing and calculations. After expressing
|
||||
some concern about the weather, we reviewed the conditions in Monterey and
|
||||
[Salinas](http://airnav.com/airport/ksns) which lies to the east. While
|
||||
Monterey wasn't looking great, Salinas was, and we had 45 minutes of flying
|
||||
ahead of us to let Monterey clear up.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
With the binder for [738VU](http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/9169914387/)
|
||||
in hand, we headed to the green ramp and started pre-flighting the airplane.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
After a soft-field take-off from 28R, I turn right towards Mount Diablo and
|
||||
climb to 1300ft until we're clear of Oakland's airspace. Passing by Lake
|
||||
Chabot, I continue climbing to 3500ft, my first planned altitude. Time to open
|
||||
our flight plan, I had the Oakland Flight Service Station queued up in the
|
||||
comms, my thumb ready to depress the button
|
||||
|
||||
"Wait, uh, what do I say again?"
|
||||
|
||||
I feel confident in my current abilities to fly a plane, it's not a brash "I'm
|
||||
the shit" confidence, but more a "I can get myself up and down without
|
||||
incident" confidence. My radio work has also been decent, but the radio work
|
||||
for a cross-country through the bay area turned out to be one of the bigger
|
||||
challenges to the trip. I've never opened a flight plan before, most times even
|
||||
though Hayward Tower clears us to leave the frequency, we stick with them while
|
||||
in the practice area.
|
||||
|
||||
After reciting and reviewing the exchange once or twice, I give it a go.
|
||||
|
||||
"Oakland Radio, Cessna seven-three-eight victor-uniform on one-two-two point
|
||||
two."
|
||||
|
||||
Silence. Am I on the right frequency? Yes, okay, how long do I wait for them to
|
||||
call me back? Is my radio volume up far enough? Looks like it, so ... call them
|
||||
again?
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
"Oakland Radio, Cessna seven-three-eight victor-uniform on one-two-two point
|
||||
two."
|
||||
|
||||
"Seven-three-eight victor-uniform, Oakland Radio, go ahead"
|
||||
|
||||
I stumble through opening my first flight plan, and then switch frequencies to
|
||||
NorCal Approach.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
General aviation was designed for smaller people, approaching the Calaveras
|
||||
Reservoir crammed in this Cessna tincan, I have my kneeboard, folded chart,
|
||||
flight plan and fuel calculations all sitting in a haphazard pile on my lap.
|
||||
Struggling to keep the pile, and my long legs, out of the way of the yoke
|
||||
proved to be a challenge. When our textbook discussed the notion of "Cockpit
|
||||
Resource Management" I'm not sure they had "find a way to not fumble all over
|
||||
yourself" in mind.
|
||||
|
||||
We mark the time as we cross over the reservoir, right on schedule.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
The visual references I had chosen for the flight were all prominent enough to
|
||||
where I had no problem picking them up from our meager altitude of 3500ft. We
|
||||
continued southward past San Jose towards San Martin. Reaching [South County
|
||||
Airport](http://airnav.com/airport/e16), I turn right towards Monterey, and
|
||||
climb to 4500ft, finally clear of San Francisco's Class Bravo, and San Jose's
|
||||
Class Charlie airspace.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
The air is noticably cooler as we close in on
|
||||
[Watsonville](http://airnav.com/airport/kwvi), the air vents get closed up and
|
||||
we start our final turn and descent into Monterey. Due to clouds, I dog-leg
|
||||
south along the coast, instead of taking the direct route over the bay. With
|
||||
Monterey in sight, I'm reluctant to shed altitude with mountains so close
|
||||
to the south and east of the field, clouds to the north and west.
|
||||
|
||||
I think I asked for permission to perform a forward slip to shed some altitude,
|
||||
a clearly confident pilot-in-command moment. Either way, I start dropping like
|
||||
a rock, at about 800 feet per minute towards a gigantic runway with two private
|
||||
jets taxiing alongside. Still too damned high, I pick up my pace, rush through
|
||||
my mental landing checklist, line up (hopefully) on the centerline, and throw
|
||||
in full flaps.
|
||||
|
||||
Crossing the threshold too high and too fast, I'm not thrilled with the
|
||||
approach but I'm determined to make it work (*yellow flag*). We settle onto the
|
||||
runway with a jolt and exit the runway, my head hot from the stress. Neither of
|
||||
us too pleased with the landing, I breath in slow and deep to calm down.
|
||||
|
||||
Without much time to eat or anything but take a leak, we decide to depart
|
||||
immediately and head back to Hayward.
|
||||
|
||||
Sitting in the runup area, I call and close our flight plan from my cell phone
|
||||
before contacting ground for my departure instructions. We taxi back the runway
|
||||
in front of another jet and start our take-off roll, the lone prop plane among a
|
||||
sea of lurking private jets.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Lurching into the air, I become anxious about the clouds straight-ahead. Well,
|
||||
I'm anxious about the clouds straight-ahead and filling the entirety of the
|
||||
right side windows. The right seat calls tower
|
||||
|
||||
"Monterey Tower, we'd like to do a left downwind departure to maintain VFR"
|
||||
|
||||
Tower grants us permission, I turn early, dodge a few clouds and then climb
|
||||
above the layer of clouds over the bay to 3500ft.
|
||||
|
||||
Monterey behind us, blue skies ahead, I'm instructed to follow roads
|
||||
instead of using the inverse of the headings I had calculated for the first
|
||||
half of the flight. I spot Highway 101 over Prunedale, and follow it through
|
||||
the hills and back into San Jose.
|
||||
|
||||
Similar to a return trip in a car, the flight back into Hayward seemed to go by
|
||||
much quicker than the flight out.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Touching down on 28R with another jolt. I ended up rushing again, and didn't
|
||||
properly flare. Rolling to the end of the runway, I look at my watch "Got time
|
||||
for a couple circuits?"
|
||||
|
||||
We take-off again, fly a couple circuits, with my landings improving back to
|
||||
(rougly) where they should be, before calling it a day.
|
||||
|
||||
Cross-country flying is a big milestone, one I've been looking forward for a
|
||||
while. Flying is fun, but flying to other places is something else. Considering
|
||||
that we flew to Monterey in 48 minutes, a drive that would have taken over
|
||||
twice as long, it's safe to say that there are plenty of [$100
|
||||
hamburgers](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/$100_hamburger) in my future
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,114 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
layout: post
|
||||
title: "Morning Exercises at KHWD"
|
||||
tags:
|
||||
- aviation
|
||||
- flying
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
After my less than desirable landing performance the day prior, I set out this
|
||||
past Sunday to get some needed practice on my own. Since I'm cleared for solo
|
||||
pattern work at the field, what better way to start a Sunday than with some
|
||||
circuits?
|
||||
|
||||
I made quick work of the pre-flight and engine start procedures, without my
|
||||
instructor I had nothing to chit-chat about, nothing to do but focus on the
|
||||
work ahead of me with [738VU](http://www.flickr.com/photos/agentdero/9169914387/).
|
||||
|
||||
"Hayward Ground, Cessna Seven-three-eight victor-uniform, student pilot, solo,
|
||||
at the green ramp with information echo, request taxi to two-eight-left."
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Cleared to taxi, I slowly creep forward, then hit the brakes to check for brake
|
||||
fluid. Nothing on the left side of the plane, but without a right seat, I can't
|
||||
lean far enough over to see the right wheel. I'm sure it's not leaking brake
|
||||
fluid, pretty sure anyways. Oh well, let's keep taxiing.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
After completing the run-up, I taxi to the hold short line for 28L, and request
|
||||
clearance for my circuits. "I should do a soft-field take-off" I think, pushing
|
||||
the flaps to 10 degrees. Lining up on the center line, I cram the power.
|
||||
Wobbling to the left I push the right rudder, "don't hit the tail!" I push the
|
||||
nose back down again. Soft-fields are challenging, you have to fight the plane
|
||||
to stay closer to the ground, requiring foot and yoke coordination that I'm
|
||||
still perfecting. Climbing to 20-30ft, I'm struggling to hold the nose down in
|
||||
order to continue gaining airspeed to climb out. Reaching about 75 knots, I
|
||||
concede, retract the flaps, and let the plane climb.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
The left pattern is 650ft at KHWD. I have a *lot* of trouble staying at that
|
||||
altitude, doubly so without an instructor helping to weigh the plane down. That
|
||||
first circuit found me at odds with my aircraft, wrasslin' against it to keep
|
||||
the right altitude, bobbling around in winds that would be characterized as
|
||||
"light and variable." Another unimpressive "pilot in command" moment for me.
|
||||
|
||||
Turning late to final, I correct and start lining up for my first approach and
|
||||
landing. Wobbling down towards the runway, I'm carrying extra speed. I flare
|
||||
closer to the runway, balloon a little, and start feeling for the runway.
|
||||
Balloon again, give a little extra power, keep the nose high, that runway is
|
||||
around here somewhere **bump**. I'm on the right side (my instructor's side) of
|
||||
the runway.
|
||||
|
||||
"Carb heat identified, flaps identified, trim set for take-off, max power"
|
||||
|
||||
I was cleared for touch-and-go's, I'll be damned if I'm not going to take
|
||||
advantage of it.
|
||||
|
||||
Another wobbly circuit, another landing feeling for the runway, another
|
||||
touch-and-go.
|
||||
|
||||
**Damnit**.
|
||||
|
||||
One more circuit, on this approach I found myself feeling for the runway again.
|
||||
With an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach, I cram the power and initiate a
|
||||
go-around.
|
||||
|
||||
**Double damnit**.
|
||||
|
||||
The next approach isn't fantastic either, I can't seem to get my turn from base
|
||||
to final right. I'm carrying more speed than I should into the flare, the mains
|
||||
hit, and I bounce **high**. Bouncing a 172 is a surreal experience, a new one
|
||||
for me at least, for the ascent I couldn't actually tell that I wasn't on the
|
||||
ground. Reaching the apex, I realized I *was* in fact still airborne, and I
|
||||
*was* in fact falling back down to the ground. I get a modicum of power in too
|
||||
late, and jolted back down onto the runway.
|
||||
|
||||
Between shouting expletives at myself, I decide against a touch-and-go, I turn
|
||||
on taxiway delta, and call tower:
|
||||
|
||||
"Hayward Tower, 738VU off 28L at delta, I'd like to taxiback to start and
|
||||
straighten my spine out."
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
The controller has been the same since I started this morning, I'm assuming he
|
||||
just witnessed that awful bounce. I figure nobody is going to yell at me for
|
||||
deviating ever so slightly from the script.
|
||||
|
||||
I clean up the plane, carb heat off, flaps up, trim set to take-off, mixture
|
||||
leaned, take a deep breath, and taxi back to the start of 28L.
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Relaxed, I straighten my spine out, screw my head back on correctly, and get
|
||||
back up into the air for more circuits.
|
||||
|
||||
With each circuit improving my landings more, I'm able to mix it up with one or
|
||||
two short-field landings and take-offs. Circuit after circuit, I keep racking
|
||||
them up.
|
||||
|
||||
By the end of it, I'm back to the slight chirping of the wheels I prefer.
|
||||
|
||||
With my landings in better shape, I land full-stop and taxi back to parking and
|
||||
shut down. All said and done, I *think* I performed 9 landings and about 11
|
||||
circuits total.
|
||||
|
||||
The plane tied down, I head back to the office to return the binder and
|
||||
back home for lunch and a normal Sunday afternoon.
|
||||
|
||||
I could get used to this kind of morning workout.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Loading…
Reference in New Issue