Monday, December 8th

Word came in last night that one of ATP's Seminoles and another flight school's Cessna collided and both planes crashed into the Florida Everglades, killing two student/instructor tandems. Since this blog is public and details are few, I'll decline further comment other than to express my deepest sympathy for the families of those lost.

Trying to study with this news hanging in the air is tough enough. Then came word this afternoon that an F-18 from MCAS Miramar crashed into a house in the neighborhood where I grew up, a few hundred feet from my high school.

Tough to make sense of this day. Just gonna try and keep my brains in my books for now.

Tuesday, December 2nd

Forgot to mention...

I spent Election Day moving out of the Grand Courtyard apartments and into an apartment at ATP. Since my roomies were all graduating at a record rate, and not much in the way of new blood coming in, the ATP brass closed the apartment and moved me into a studio on the first floor of the school, which I'm sharing with flight partner Dan. Not bad, really... the commute to school's great (one flight of stairs) and there's a flight simulator in the backyard. Free coffee, too.

Just finished day 6 of CFI (certified flight instructor) school. All the horror stories I've heard over the months from my friends and roomies are mostly true... it's an immense load of reading, comprehension, quizzing, correlation, and some flying. The CFI 'initial', the checkride done by the local Flight Standards District Office in Fort Worth, is first up and will involve a rather lengthy oral exam, covering everything I've learned, but this time at from the standpoint of an instructor... not just the 'whats', but also the 'whys' and 'hows'. If I'm gonna be teaching it, I'd better know it, right?

Got re-acquainted with an old friend today... the Cessna C172 Skyhawk. It's a requirement of CFI candidates to be signed off as being proficient in stall awareness and spin recovery, so today's the day that asst. chief pilot Javier and I went up to try our best to crash a plane by going vertical. You may recall that in my early stage of private pilot training, we accidentally put one into a spin during a stall maneuver, which looked something like this (not my video!)...



This time we did it on purpose. And what do you know... it was a hell of a lot of fun! We did three of them before heading over to Mid-Way Airport to meet flight partners Mike and Dan for their turn, and they were just as giddy. Dan even got into a few fully-developed spins, where the plane made several complete rotations before recovery. I can't wait to practice these again on my own someday.

Anyway, that was my day. Final day of ground school is tomorrow, to be followed by as much self-paced study as my little ol' noggin can handle. Still no word on my checkride dates, but that should be coming in the next few days. The end is nigh at hand...

Sunday, November 23rd

Hi and sorry again for the absence.

Time since the last post has been spent hitting the books... big time. Had to take the three remaining knowledge tests (Commercial - 90%, Flight Instructor Airplane - 86%, Fundamentals Of Instructing - 94%), grinding through an exhausting CFI pre-test and getting ready for the Commercial Multi-Engine checkride, which finally occurred last Thursday. Despite having a bit of a brain fart on the pilotage (visual navigation) part of the ride, the maneuvers, which included steep turns at a 50-degree bank, stalls, Vmc demo, and short-field landing, went pretty well overall and I passed.

Now then...

Tomorrow begins CFI School... the phase where I've seen several of my cohorts break down. Two weeks of intense ground school, peppered with a handful of flights to prep for the three CFI checkrides. When it's all done, I'll have my Commercial Single-Engine to get past, then I'm done.

I was pretty sure that I'd be done in plenty of time for Christmas. My friends here aren't so sure. Regardless, I hear the local Flight Service District Office, which handles part of the checkride process, is closed from Dec. 20th through the end of the year, so I'll have some time to spend at home with the fam and friends before coming back here to finish.

Off to dreamland. Should be reporting a little more often down the home stretch.

Cheers

Saturday, November 8th

T-minus 30 days...

Cross-countries are over. The final tally...

Monday - Millington, TN; home
Tuesday - study day
Wednesday - Meridian, MS; home
Thursday - Tulsa, OK; Houston, TX; home
Friday - Lamar, CO; home
Saturday - study day
Sunday - study day
Monday - San Angelo, TX; home
Tuesday - Newton, KS; home
Wednesday - Lamar, CO; Tulsa OK; home
Thursday - San Angelo TX; Houston, TX; home
Friday - Meridian, MS; Panama City, FL, overnight
Saturday - Jasper, AL; Monroe, LA; home
Sunday - study day
Monday - Tulsa, OK; home
Tuesday - Monroe, LA; home

Some photographic highlights...

The infamous fried Twinkie from Squealer's Barbeque of Meridian, Mississippi. And the fair was nowhere in sight. This much sugar hits you like a overdose of Thorazine. We may not have been medically legal to fly home.


The 1st trip home from Meridian. A beautiful scene, but Dan and I were heading for our first real weather-danger drill. Nearing the Dallas area, we had to carve a path between two large cells of thunderstorms that developed after we left. With the help of Fort Worth Center, an improvised route well off of our beaten path, and a little luck, we got home safely.


Lamar, Colorado. There's nothing to see here. Nice people, though.


Yours Truly enjoying a little chill time in Panama City on Halloween.


Leaving Panama City. The light spot in the middle is the airport. The blue parts are water. Or sky.


The crew car at the Jasper, Alabama airport. No interior door handles or working gauges, a duct-taped glove compartment, and the trunk smells like a rendered corpse, but hey... it's a limo!


I got to play chauffeur for a couple of fellow ATP guys from Jacksonville who flew in right behind us. They left no tip.


The gumbo at the Waterfront Grill in Monroe, LA. Grubbin', but I may not ever be really convinced that okra was ever meant for human consumption.


A little cloudbusting on the way home from Monroe... my last cross-country flight.


And that's how you cram 75 hours of flight time into two weeks. It was an amazing experience, and the difference in my skill and confidence between that first flight to Millington and the last to Monroe is measurable and astounding. The last few flights included near-perfect radio calls, navigation, curveball handling, and of course... flying. By the Monroe trip, I was feeling ready to take on the next challenge, but first... written exams! Fun's over... time to bury the beak in the books again.

I haven't flown now in about 5 days and I'm already missing it like crazy. This phase of the program is almost all book-learnin'. Have to finish 3 written tests and a monster written homework assignment (I've got about 16 hours invested in it already) by the 15th, then the Commercial Multi-Engine checkride on the 18th, followed immediately by Commercial Single (back to the Cessna!), then Flight Instructor school starts on the 24th. This month will be a bitch.

If you don't hear from me, tell my Mom I love her.

Tuesday, October 28th

Ugh... I hate getting behind. Sorry for the lack of updates, but flying tuckers Yours Truly out, and I've been up to a lot of it lately. I'm also trying to cram for the commercial and fundamentals of instructing written exams, so my brain is acting like one of those plate-spinners of variety-show yesteryear.

A quick rundown of my cross-country trips so far...

Monday - Millington, Tennessee and back
Tuesday - study day
Wednesday - Meridian, Mississippi and back
Thursday - Tulsa, Oklahoma; Houston, Texas; back
Friday - Lamar, Colorado and back
Saturday - study day
Sunday - study day
Monday - San Angelo, Texas and back
Tuesday - Newton, Kansas and back

During this stage, I call dispatch at 0700 daily and get my assignment. I'm expected to get to the airport within 30 minutes and go wheels-up and soon as possible. So far it's just been day trips, but I think I've got an overnighter coming. Hoping for California or Florida.

Sorry for the short post. There are details to share on every one of these flights and I'll try to put my thoughts on these and future trips down in a more timely manner. Stay tuned. For now, enjoy this picture of the urinal at the San Angelo FBO...


And the accompanying instructions...


Ah, aviation humor... can't get enough of it!

Tuesday, October 21st (x-country!)

"Hope not in sight."

Been busy since the checkride. A full day of Crew Resource Management ground school with two hours in the sim on Saturday, then a Sunday night trial flight to Tulsa with instructor Jeremy K. in the left seat and me flying from the right. Monday is the first day of having to call into ATP dispatch for a flying assignment, but Jeremy tells me not to expect anything since my paperwork from the Tulsa flight takes some time to get processed.

0700 Monday, ATP Dispatch - "You're flying with Daniel P. in 264AT to Millington, Tennessee. Wheels up ASAP."

So much for having Monday off. I hastily throw together an overnight bag with a change of clothes (just in case) and head for the airport, where Dan and I check the weather, assemble and file our flight plan, and head out to the ramp. We flip a coin to determine the order of assignments. Dan was to fly outbound from the right seat, with me manning the navigation and radios from the left, then switching roles and seats for the return flight.

It's a very exciting time. This phase is the meat-n-pertaters of this program... 75 hours of instructor-less cross-country flying to be completed in 24 days. I'll meet new students as they're assigned to me and get to see parts of the country from vantages I've never experienced. It's also the time to really get comfortable with flying the Seminole and getting the feel for all of its systems without the instructor's watchful eye tensing up the cabin air. For now, I'm just stoked that my first cross-country is with Dan... my classmate from the beginning.

After we take off and get vectored by ATC to the east, we start intercepting VOR radials to track our trip through Arkansas. Texarkana, Pine Bluff, Gilmore, Millington. Between radio calls and occasional navaid adjustments I have plenty of time to sit and reflect on just how much we've accomplished during the past few months. Amazing.


In our haste to leave Arlington, we forgot to ask anybody about what to see/do/eat in Millington, a favorite fueling stop for ATP aircraft. The friendly old guy behind the counter greeted us and handed us the keys to the courtesy car (a Buick) and Dan and I go scouting. Since dispatch only gave us a short turnaround to get airborne for our return flight, we had to make it quick... a Little Caesar's pizza pickup and we return to the FBO to chow down. Another flight plan, preflight, and we're off... this time with me flying from the right and Dan navigating from the left.

Flying from the right seat is a bit of a chore so far, especially after being so accustomed to flying from the other side for my entire aviation career up to this point. The gauges are all on the other side, and I'm now forced to use my left hand to operate the switches and levers while steering with my right... it's not unlike driving in England. Much of this burden is eased by my co-pilot's presence though, since I don't have to concentrate nearly as much on mapping and communication. Still... quite an adjustment.

Three hours and ten minutes later, I land back at Arlington at the very last hint of sunlight, tie the aircraft down, and shake my partner's hand. We have survived.


Oh, and...

Flying near Hope, Arkansas (aka Bill Clintonburg), we hear the following over the radio from Little Rock Approach, addressing a jet inbound to Hope Municipal Airport.

"Citation Lima November, do you have Hope in sight?"

"Negative, Approach... Hope not in sight."

Bummer.

Friday, October 17th (instrument checkride)

Instrument checkride passed.

Upon rising at 0530, I check the weather and see the break I've been waiting for... DFW reporting a scattered layer at 3,000. Finally good enough to fly.

I meet checkride examiner K.B. at the airport and preflight N756A, a 2000 model Seminole. The plan is to simulate a flight plan to Houston, then divert after takeoff to Dallas Executive Airport to shoot an ILS approach (single engine), go missed, fly a DME arc, then to Grand Prairie Airport for a GPS approach, go missed again, hold at the published missed procedure, then back to Arlington for a VOR-DME approach and land... all while under the Foggles ("under the hood", as they say).

Shortly after takeoff, I climb to 2,500 feet and go under the hood. K.B. asks me some questions about our plan to Houston, which I answer, and he asks me to take him to Dallas Executive. Along the way, he asks me to descend to 2,000 feet because we're in a thin cloud layer. I do so, and start to consider how this descent will affect my approach. After some quick internal debate, I decide that it can't be done, since the approach needs to be started at 2,300 feet and we need to stay 500 feet below the clouds to remain in VFR. He agrees, and asks me to take him to Grand Prairie instead. The nerves I was experiencing disappear, stoked that I made a good decision at a critical time. Feeling kinda pilot-y all of a sudden!

On the way to Grand Prairie, K.B. takes the controls and asks me to put my head down for an unusual attitude recovery. I can feel the plane dip and weave for about 30 seconds, then when he tells me to recover I look at my instrument panel to find us banked sharply to the left and my airspeed increasing rapidly... we're diving. I cut the throttles, go wings-level, and recover.

We've been grounded for 3 days, which means that everyone else in the area has been grounded for 3 days. The appearance of blue sky after a few days of weather is like ringing the aviation dinner bell. I'd never seen this much traffic in the area before. The Seminole is equipped with TIS (Traffic Information System), which will alert us of traffic within 2 miles of our location and provide heading and altitude of that traffic. Through this 90-minute flight, we got "pinged" about 10 times, each time having to go visual (removing the Foggles) to find the aircraft in our area and make sure we don't collide. It threw a wrench into some of my flows, but I maintained well and K.B. seemed very understanding.

Shot the approach at Grand Prairie with a partial panel... a piece of paper blocking my view of the attitude and heading indicators, so my primary instrument becomes the Garmin 430. Went missed and flew the hold (flying in an oval pattern at a specified place and altitude) over Joe Pool Lake as published, then left the hold for the ILS approach into Arlington's runway 34. I kept waiting for K.B. to cut my throttle, and I could see his hand twitching a bit as if he meant to do it, but I think the heavy area traffic kept him from doing it. I go missed shortly before landing, fly south again for a while, then re-position for the VOR-DME approach into Arlington. Nailed it.

K.B. is silent as I taxi back to the main ramp, where I park, complete my shutdown/termination checklists, and finally...

"Congratulations, you passed this examination."

Flight partner Daniel and instructor Aaron meet me at the ramp. I hand the plane over to Dan and 90 minutes later, he also has his instrument rating.

As an instrument-rated pilot, I can now fly outside of Visual Flight Rules. In other words, I can bust clouds!

With instrument rating in tow, tomorrow I start "302", which is ATP code for right-seat flight training and crew resource management. Since I'll be flying with another student instead of an instructor for the next 75 flight hours, this training will help us manage our shared duties and identify individual responsibilities while flying as a team. Time to start acting like a pilot!

Tuesday, October 14th

Passed the oral portion of the instrument checkride, but there's an overcast layer at only 500 feet so the flight is postponed until tomorrow. The instrument checkride must be flown in VFR conditions, so I'm a slave to Mother Nature for now. More of the same weather is forecast for tomorrow.

UPDATE -- Grounded again Wednesday. Now it's thunderstorms which may continue through tomorrow.

UPDATE UPDATE -- Grounded again Thursday. Waited around from 6:30am to about 1:30pm for the cloud layers to disappear but no joy. Forecast is clear tomorrow, so we should be in business. Hope I still remember how to fly...

Thursday, October 9th

87% on the instrument written exam.

I was hoping to get into the 90's, but considering that it's one of the tougher written tests in this process, I'll plead temporary satisfaction.

Flew to Stephenville for the second time on Wednesday for a quick flight and a quick bite. Met up with two instructor-student teams (Walt/David & Aaron/Jose) from the private program. Lunch damage at the Hard Eight was $16 for three pork back ribs, a jalapeno sausage and 'nana puddin'. Ouch, but damn...

Lots of sim work and book-learnin' again. My instrument checkride has officially been scheduled for Tuesday, and I've got some work to do. Daniel, Jeremy and I spent yesterday afternoon poolside at the apartment going over elements of the oral portion of the checkride and I was surprised at how ready I am for it... I think. We're spending sim time practicing the checkride 'profile', trying to get the feel for the fast-paced requests of the examiner, who will be cramming a lot of orders into a 1-hour flight. Lots of people bust this one by getting disoriented or behind in their duties, but I'm feeling pretty good about it. Gotta stay focused.

By this time next week I should be starting my cross-country flights!

--

I must share these videos. I got them from a post on jetcareers.com and still giggle about them in my spare time.





For the life of me, I can't tell if these are pilots with amazing comedic skills or comedians with amazing pilot skills.

Saturday, October 4th

Two great flights to report. On Wednesday Troy and I flew to College Station to shoot some approaches. A bit shaky on the first, better on the second, and the third was this one back home into Arlington.



I was about 8 miles out, about to intercept the ILS for this runway when Troy cuts the power on my left engine to idle... simulated engine failure. We had done this several times, but this was the first time trying it while attempting to maintain the glideslope into the runway and under the Foggles. As you can see, I wound up a bit long, but I was pretty happy with my first attempt under those conditions.

--

Friday night was the biggie. The 300-mile marathon... and back. It's actually a requirement for the commercial certificate, which is coming up, but ATP kills two birds with one stone by having us shoot instrument approaches along the way, all under the Foggles. I preflight 4917A and file for...

- Arlington to Mineral Wells, GPS approach. Nailed it, then went missed (intentionally didn't land)
- Mineral Wells to Abilene, VOR approach. Nailed it, then went missed again.
- Abilene to Midland, ILS approach. Another good one, this time to a full stop.

We meet up with another Seminole team (instructor Aaron and student Adam) in Midland, grab the FBO's courtesy car and grab a bite to eat, then take off again...

Midland to Alliance for 10 VFR night take-offs and landings. I had been here before in the Cessna, but this was the first time since I had worked out the kinks in my landings, and the first time in the Seminole.

We had finished a few when Aaron and Adam came in behind us to do the same. Once again we pick a night with no other traffic using the airport, so the tower assigned the left pattern for 16L to A&A and the right pattern for 16R to Troy and I. It didn't take long before we were flying in tandem, like looking into a mirror, including the base leg for landing, in which we momentarily are flying head-on. This is a humbling enough experience during the day, but when it's night, with another plane's landing light shining in my face... oy. I don't mind telling you that I peed a little.

Ten laps in a traffic pattern is draining enough, but we're not done. Last stop is Cleburne, where we shoot a visual approach and land.

"Back home, boss?" I ask Troy, who looks at his watch and sighs.

"We've got another hour left."

We head for the practice area south of Arlington and well, just fly around. Rather pleasant, but it's now 0100 and we've been flying with only one break since 1700, and consciousness is getting scarce. Aaron shares an idea on the radio.

"I'm asking ATC if they'll vector us through DFW so we can take a tour."

The airspace around DFW is extremely busy and as such, air traffic control keeps very tight control of it. However, in the wee small hours on a Friday night even controllers get bored. Sure enough, ATC clears A&A to fly direct over DFW airport and east to downtown Dallas. Troy and I wait a bit for spacing, then get request and get cleared to do the same. This was a pretty sweet ending to the evening... got great views of the big airport from 3,500 feet and then did a lap around downtown Dallas at 2,500 feet... both areas normally verboten for civil aircraft.

A few more stop-and-goes at Arlington and we're done.

My head hit the pillow at 0300... hard.

Friday, September 26th

Lots going on here, but nothing that would make for solid copy. Mostly book learnin' and studying up for our written instrument test, which should be in the next few days. Checkride in about two weeks. And my instructor Troy is getting hitched this weekend, so we got subs for a few days.

Went up yesterday afternoon to practice approaches and holds after a disastrous morning session in the sim* which rattled my confidence. The flight went great... shot a VOR-DME approach and a GPS approach (the Seminoles all have dual Garmin GNS 430s, by the way) at Corsicana which both went good, then an ILS approach back into Arlington which was damn near perfect. Feeling great about my progress.

--

Nearly everyday I read the online version of my hometown paper, uniontrib.com, and today they reminded me of the 30th anniversary of the crash of PSA flight 182. Sorry to wax sentimental about such a morose topic, especially on a blog that's meant to spin aviation as a wonderful pursuit, but it's weighing on my mind. Christ... 30 years.

I was a second-grader at Francis Parker School on September 25th, 1978 when word came in before lunch that a plane had crashed in North Park and that a lot of people had died. A 7-year old doesn't have much concept of such things, but I knew that my sister Maggie lived in North Park, so I got pretty scared until I discovered upon returning home that she was okay. Ever since, I've been fascinated with that incident. As the years went on and I matured along with the historical significance, I realized just how much PSA and that crash meant to San Diego (its headquarters).

In fact, my first memory of flying was on a PSA plane, on a night flight as a toddler (from L.A. to San Diego, Mom reminds me). One of their famously gorgeous stewardesses asked me if I wanted some ice cream. Presumably with Mom's approval, she led me by the hand up to the galley and helped me make a sundae... fudge, nuts, whipped cream, everything... in a glass bowl! Try getting that kind of service on a 10-hour flight these days, much less a 40-minute hop.

30 years!

Events like these are a reality that pilots and passengers face, but from them is born new technology that keeps us all pretty safe, and I, for one, am quite grateful for it.


* thanks for reminding me... it's technically a "flight training device", not a simulator. I wish sarcastic inflection was an option in written form.

We have three of these at Arlington. It my not look like a whole lot, but has features that make it remarkably close to flying the Seminole. In fact, controlling this thing is a bitch... much tougher than the real thing, since the "outdoors" are only found immediately in front of the left seat and of course, the "seat of the pants" sensations are missing. Still a pretty good trainer, though. We're getting to know each other quite well...

Monday, September 22nd

Quick one...

Yesterday was a very good day overall. Sim and ground school in the morning, learning about ILS approaches, GPS approaches, missed-approach procedures, holds and fixes.

About 1700 I file an IFR flight plan to Waco and back to try this stuff in a real-world environment. Going up in 6816A, a brand-new 2008 Seminole. First of all, my radio calls are getting much better. Some ATC highlights from the flight...

"Seminole 6816A, cleared to KACT via JPOOL3 departure, Waco transition, climb and maintain 2,000, expect 6,000 after 10 minutes, departure frequency 128.62, squawk 5515."

(after a simulated missed approach into Waco) "Seminole 6816A, roger going missed, proceed as published, right turn to 2-5-0, climb and maintain 3,000, expect vectors for approach."

Standard stuff, actually. Typing this out now, it seems terribly easy, but to the ear of a student like me... listening to, comprehending, reading back and executing all this information while trying to stay airborne in moderate turbulence is definitely a learned skill. Looking forward to getting good at it.

Ended the evening at buddy Dave's (happy birthday, man!) house with carnitas and Monday Night Football. My Chargers put a cherry on a fine day, beating the Jets 48-29.


Ground school, practice written tests, and more simulator today. More reports as they become interesting.

Sunday, September 21st

Instrument phase! The meat of the whole program... learning how to fly a plane with no outside visual references while following ATC orders to the letter. It's tough to get the hang of!

I mentioned in earlier posts about getting some exposure to instrument flying during the time-building phase of the Cessna program, but now it's getting pretty intense, because I'm expected to act as pilot-in-command. Trial by fire.

Last night I took my first flight since my instrument checkride on Tuesday. At 1700 Troy and I went wheels-up in Seminole 6865A for Tulsa (Jones Airport again) flying VFR under a IFR flight plan. We get instructions for 4,000 feet as we crossed to the west of Dallas/Fort Worth airspace, and I suddenly get a taste of what it's like sharing the air with big planes as two commercial jets passed across our nose. Frontier Airlines Airbus at 11 o'clock, eastbound, 2,000 feet above us. American Eagle RJ, 10 o'clock, eastbound, 1,000 feet above us. Very exciting to be so close. Camera will be nearer to me for future flights.

Nearing Jones at twlight, we get vectored to the north to position for runway 19 right, behind three T-6 Texans that were flying in for what turned out to be a charity party in the hangar of the FBO we were heading for.

A quick bite to eat in the town of Jenks and we're heading home. This time Troy asks for and receives clearance for a cruise altitude of 10,000 feet... a new record for me. In an unpressurized cabin like this one, this means we gotta watch each other for signs of hypoxia, although neither of us is very worried... it's only a two hour flight. The Seminole got to 8,000 feet in no time... the remaining 2,000 feet seemed to take an eternity.

I've said it before... night flying is absolutely amazing. Cool stable air, less traffic (and friendlier controllers... a nice by-product) and not much to do except enjoy the scenery, above and below. The precision approach path lights are out at runway 16 at Arlington, so I'm on my own for establishing my glideslope back home. I nailed it. Not that tough, actually.

This phase requires a lot of book-learnin'... tons of ground school, studying, and training in the simulator to learn about approach plates, holds, fixes, and a bevy of other rather important details to make me a safe pilot. Stay tuned... after the instrument checkride in a few weeks comes the dual cross-country trips, when I'm paired with another student instead of an instructor. This should be fun...

Oh, and the primary lesson learned from Saturday's flight. The worst Italian food in the world is not found at Olive Garden. It's at Mazzio's of Jenks, Oklahoma. Please take heed when rolling though, my friends.

Tuesday, September 16th (multi-engine checkride)

A friend reminded me that I haven't mentioned anything about my living conditions here.

(my best Don Pardo) "Students at ATP Arlington stay at the fabulous Grand Courtyards Apartments in lovely Grand Prairie, Texas."

It's not a barracks, but it ain't exactly the Four Seasons. Actually, it's a very decent (but small) place... I'm just having to share it which is a hard sell for someone of my advanced years.

I'm in a 3-bedroom 2-bath apartment, and currently share it with three other students (with room for one more), none of whom are over 25. We get along fine. Some housekeeping issues, but that's to be expected. Joe is a month ahead of me in the program and has been an invaluable aid in last-minute exam cramming. Alex is in the CFI program and is just a few days away from being done. David is the new guy... just started the Private Pilot Program. They're so cute at that age!

Oh, and I passed my multi-engine checkride today. 8 hours of simulator time, 8 hours of actual flight time, and a truckload of study hours was all it took! On to the dreaded Instrument Rating. This will be about 3-4 weeks of intensive ground school, with 35 hours of flight time and about 45 hours in the simulator. This will be a real test... one of the most difficult phases of the program.

Celebrating tonight with Jenifer... an old friend of mine who lives here. I worked with her about 12 years ago when I lived in Austin. We lost touch over the years and I'm looking forward to getting re-acquainted. Maybe I should tell her that I'm a pilot...

Thursday, September 11th

Summer appears to be drawing to a close here in Texas... the weather is getting more predictable. Unfortunately it's predictably cloudy, and I gotta fly VFR for the next few weeks. On top of that, we've got Hurricane Ike threatening our livelihoods. Due to hit Houston Friday night with 100mph winds and hit us with 40-50mph winds by Saturday and into Sunday.

Day four of ACPP and I'm already getting a little bored with the simulator. It's fun, and remarkably close to the real thing, but it's just no substitute for actually going wheels-up. Today though, a break in the weather sent everyone scrambling for the ramp, and I got in on it. Troy (our main instructor for this phase) and I head out to 910KT... a 2000 model Seminole.


Preflight, left engine start, right engine start, taxi. It's already feeling very different, being a twin engine with low wings instead of the single engine high-wing Cessna. And remarkably cramped. I had heard this, but with kneeboard and headset attached and the door closed, it really became clear that sharing this space meant getting really familiar with your flight partner. And since the trim controls and fuel selectors are located between the seats... even more so. Excuse me... pardon me... my fault... 'scuse me...

Taxiing in an unfamiliar airplane is a bit awkward, but I get the hang of it quickly. After mistakenly identifying myself as 920TA (one of the Cessnas), I correct and get takeoff clearance. Man, this is what simulator just can't simulate. Full throttle in the Seminole really pushes you into your seat, and takeoff speed (75 knots) comes fast. I gasp at the rotation as we get off the ground.

"Positive rate... gear up."

I had feared forgetting to bring the gear up (a common error), but I didn't. We're off and flying. The terrain passes underneath us far quicker than I'm accustomed, but other than that it's not much different to fly this baby. I demo some maneuvers (stalls, slow flight, steep turns) like I did in the simulator, and did okay. Another few flights and I should be good to go for the checkride. Shot a few landings at Mid-Way, and also did fine. Much different landing the Seminole, since it doesn't float down the runway like the Cessna, but it's similar enough to get the hang of fairly quickly. One more landing at Arlington and we're done.

Excited beyond belief. This bird will be my home for the next 3 months.

Monday, September 8th (first day of ACPP)

After being off since August 20th, barely knowing what to do with myself except study in-between watching the Olympics and election coverage, it's time to get back to work, learning the Piper PA-44 Seminole for ATP's Airline Career Pilot Program.


I had four days last week to visit my sister and brother-in-law in New Jersey, and also had a night to spend with friends in Manhattan (see Jersey Boys at full price... the drummer's got a little one on the way!). Had to get the hell out of Texas and not think about flying for a few days. I think it did the trick. Got back Saturday, barely missing the remnants of Hurricane Hanna as it threatened NYC.

Today went much like the first day of the private program... lots of paperwork, a visit from the chief pilot, test results and logbook review. This time, however, I'm paired with one guy (old reliable Daniel) instead of being lumped into a class of six. The instruction already seems far more personable and easier to absorb. Good thing, too... because this is going to be a serious challenge. Flying a twin-engine requires more advanced knowledge of aerodynamic principles, and well... there's twice as much to go wrong with another engine!

Used a long break in the day to go out and sit in a Seminole for a while, to get formally acquainted. Feels like a blind date. "I've read about you and heard so much about you... I can't believe we finally get to meet!" She didn't return the compliment. Not yet, anyway.

I get asked frequently what I'll be doing next. Today's activity made this clearer. This week I'll be learning the Seminole from top to bottom, first on the ground, then in the simulator, then the first actual flight should be Wednesday if the weather holds up (it's raining now). By next Wednesday, I'll have my private multi-engine checkride. Scary to think... my checkride is scheduled but I haven't even flown this thing yet. Haven't even been in the sim yet! I trust that my school knows what they're doing. The next 30 days will be training for my instrument rating, which is a major headache. I've seen adult male tears shed over that one, so I hope I can keep up. The reward for passing the instrument checkride is that I'll graduate to the most fun part of this whole experience... dual cross-countries. I'll be paired with another student and will get to fly ACTUAL cross-countries, to California, Florida... and everywhere in between. Commercial ratings (single and multi-engine) come next, followed by Flight Instructor school. If all goes to plan, by mid-December I'll be done and holding enough certifications to land a job, probably as a CFI at first.

I had a nice surprise on the ramp when I was greeted by this.


The Arizona Commemorative Air Force is visiting Arlington and giving rides in this beautiful B-17 for the next few days. Since it's parked right next to ATP's ramp, Daniel and I moseyed over and got a closer look. I asked the man shown here, who was watching over things, where he was from. In a thick accent, he smiled and answered, "Germany. It is first time here."

I complimented him on the aircraft and lamented that I wouldn't be taking a ride today, then walked away puzzled, wondering if there any Japanese tour guides at Pearl Harbor.

First simulator flight at 0730 tomorrow.

Tomorrow's episode... "Simulated Inverted Flat Spins And The Students Who Love Them"

Saturday, August 16th

A day after a fairly uneventful trip to San Angelo, TX and back, Ben and I grabbed 920TA and filed a plan to Monroe, LA. I was excited, since I've always had a soft spot for the Bayou (New Orleans in particular), having been through here several times, and was looking forward to seeing it from the air. Here was what I saw enroute.


So much for aerial views of swampland. Nearly 3 hours and a successful ILS approach later, we're flagged into the local FBO by a very friendly guy who chocks our nosewheel, hands us the keys to the courtesy car, and suggests we head for the Waterfront Grill. Man, what a find! Started by sharing a bowl of crawfish dip, then I had a huge bowl of really bitchin'* gumbo. Nice view too.


We thank our concierge back at the FBO for the meal suggestion and start off back home. During the run-up (where we test the engine at the end of the taxiway), the left magneto check made the engine stutter and drop about 500 RPM, which isn't normal. I had seen this before, on my first solo cross-country, and knew how to fix it, but the procedure I had used before wasn't working. Ben fooled with it a few times but no joy, so back to the FBO. A phone call to Arlington and a new procedure later, problem solved and away we go.

It's dawning on me that my time in the Cessna is coming to an end, and I'm already getting a little sentimental about it. ATP's private pilot program comes with an 85-hour allowance and I'm at about 80. I'll get to fly them again briefly later in the program when I go for my commercial single certificate, but for now I'm already starting to miss it. It's made me a pretty good pilot and been a fun little bird to fly around in, especially when I get views like this on my way back from Monroe.


* Dad, this word is just fine. Use it loudly and liberally. (earlier family debate... carry on)

Thursday, August 14th

After a day off, Ben and I are back into 441CA and off to Houston. This was much like the return flight from Tulsa the other day... broken cloud layers and beautiful scenery. ILS approach into David Wayne Hooks Airport, but this time it was under the Foggles again, and my first try at minimum decision altitude... the point-of-no-return where I commit to either land or call a missed approach. After using instruments and ATC's instructions to navigate my way to the airport, Ben has me remove the Foggles at about 700 feet above the airport and I land pretty well. Not perfect, but going from sightless to sighted in a split-second occupies a number of brain cells.

Got a look at ATP's Houston location and grabbed the FBO's courtesy car to grab a bite to eat. Uneventful return flight.




Hey, they can't all be fascinating!

Tuesday, August 12th

"They've got cookies!"

Ben and I hop into 2656G and head north.

We filed an IFR flight plan to Stephenville yesterday, but today was the real test. Shortly after being directed through DFW's Class B airspace, we entered our first cloud... and stayed there for about 90 minutes on our way to Tulsa. All the book-learnin' on spatial disorientation and "trusting your instruments" came back to me like a fastball to the noggin, but reading about it and expereincing it are two very different things. The windshield turns stark white and my senses instantly starting telling me that I'm climbing and banking hard to the right. After focusing on the instruments for a second, I realize that I'm flying level but banking slightly left. The next hour and a half is spent adjusting my eyes and learning to scan my gauges. Tougher than it sounds, and hard to articulate.


Also experienced my first true ILS approach for landing into Tulsa's Jones Airport. Arrived exhausted but feeling pretty good about the flight. Learned something pretty cool!

While I chat up the gas truck driver, Ben ducks his head into the FBO and turns back to me, grinning. "They've got cookies!"

The way home was easier. Flying through a broken layer of clouds meant being able to keep my eyes focused on something other than just the instrument panel, which was far less fatiguing. On the way home I spotted my great-granddad's home of Denison, TX and took a photo. That's the Red River separating Texas and Oklahoma.

Good day of flying... and more to come.

Monday, August 11th

After the checkride, I had my first days off in over a month. I used it to sleep and watch the Olympics. Perfect timing! Starting Monday the 11th, it was back to work. This phase of the program is used to build logged hours and introduce us to IFR (instrument flight rules), a crucial part of the next phase of training.

First stop... Stephenville, home of the Hard Eight Barbeque. Ben and I flew 2656G there and met flight partners Daniel (with instructor Walt) and Ali (with instructor Javier). First flight through clouds, too... a fascinating experience. More on that later.


The Hard Eight is a popular fly-in, so they keep two golf carts at the FBO for transport to the restaurant, where we were greeted by the most beautiful sight these eyes have ever seen. Ever wonder what the salad bar in Heaven looks like? Here you go.


After crippling ourselves by ingesting obscene amounts of dead pig, we're homebound. Thanks to FlightAware for the illustrated track of our flight. As you can see, I'm learning about keeping my heading through clouds.

August 08, 2008 (private pilot checkride)

The final prep flight on Thursday didn't go well, as I was staying a step behind the procedures, seemingly always preoccupied with one thing or another, rather than looking ahead to the next item on my checklist or getting set for the next arrival. My landings also took a step backward, all of which concerned me since, as Ben reminded me ad-nauseum, my final exam was tomorrow. I spent the evening preparing the necessary navigation log for a flight from Arlington to Hillsboro to Lubbock, and getting quizzed for the oral exam by my roommate Joe, who went through this only a month ago and was a huge help. I still didn't sleep well that night.

0545 - I report to school to check on the weather and complete the endless array of paperwork needed to complete the upcoming tasks. At 0630 I'm greeted by K.B., a friendly 60-ish man who's one of ATP's two designated checkride examiners. Behind a closed office door, we sit down and he tells me what to expect about today's events. After the oral exam, we'll take a flight where I will be, in effect, carrying my first passenger and he'll expect a nice ride.

"Tell me about your aircraft."
"Tell me about the engine in your aircraft."
"Describe the electrical system in your aircraft."
"What are the required inspections needed for your aircraft and how often do they need it?"
"Tell me the V-speeds for this aircraft."
"Define density altitude."
"What's advection fog?"
"What's hypoxia? How can you tell if someone has it and what do you do about it?"
"Carbon monoxide poisoning... same questions."
"Describe wind shear."
"What's P-factor?"
"Define adverse yaw."
"Show me on the map where a Mode C transponder is required."
"What's the minimum visibility requirements for VFR flight in class G airspace at night?"

And on... for two hours.

When I was twelve, I competed in the San Diego County Spelling Bee. I couldn't tell you what words I spelled correctly, but I'll never forget the word I tanked*. Similarly, I'll always remember the one question that I completely missed on this day.

"Is participation in separation services mandatory in a Terminal Radar Service Area?"

Turns out that it's not. I still passed.

I drew a lucky card in getting 441CA, the bird that got me through my first set of good landings and my first solo. A call to weather services confirmed what I was a little worried about... the nearby front had shifted the winds and instead of taking off from the usual runway 1-6, I had to depart from 3-4, which I hadn't done before. No big deal, really... but I'm starting to wonder if there were any more curveballs coming my way.

Good takeoff and smooth air heading south toward Hillsboro. About halfway there, K.B. asks me to divert to Lancaster. Christ... Pennsylvania? California? I hadn't even heard of the Texas one. I whipped out my sectional chart and found it... just beyond good ol' Mid-Way Airport, where I'd been a hundred times, and was within sight at my 8-o'clock. I turned and headed that way, which put us on a perfect course for Lancaster. After I convinced him that I knew what I was doing navigationally, he had me demonstrate some maneuvers. Steep turns, check. Slow flight, check. Power-on stall, check. Power-off stall, check. Emergency landing, check.

"Never mind Lancaster. Take me to Mid-Way and show me some landings."

Along the way, K.B. hands me a things-that-can-go-wrong list. "What would you do if you experienced each of these?"

• partial or complete power loss
• engine roughness or overheat
• carb icing or induction icing
• loss of oil pressure
• fuel starvation
• electrical malfunction
• vacuum/pressure and associated instrument malfunction
• pitot/static malfunction
• landing gear or flap malfunction
• inoperative trim
• inadvertent door or window opening
• structural icing
• smoke/fire/engine compartment fire

I fight the urge to offer the funny answer, which is of course, "All at once? Crap my pants." Instead, I think out each one and answer well enough to keep going.

Short-field and soft-field takeoffs and landings at Mid-Way (also on the runway opposite the one I'm used to) go well. Keep in mind... a pilot on a checkride is waiting to hear the words "take me back to our airport". The earlier it's said, the worse the news. It's about this time that I hear it from K.B., and I'm only mostly sure that it's good news. A well-executed short-field landing and a taxi back to our ramp later, K.B. breathes.

"Congratulations. You've passed this test." I'm a pilot.

More paperwork and some congratulations from my mates back at the classrooms, and I'm off for the rest of the day. Celebration dinner and beers at Dave & Brittany's, where I'm asleep before midnight. I've got tomorrow off to let it all sink in.


* Jacamar. Not J-A-C-K-A-M-A-R.

Friday, August 1st

Well, it was shaping up to be another day in class, grounded by unfavorable atmospheric conditions. No thunderstorms today, but now the issue is haze and crosswinds. Even though I've done a ton of crosswind landings with a pilot in the right seat, school policy won't let me solo with a crosswind component greater than 7 knots. KCRS (Corsicana) reported crosswinds of 9 knots at 0800. Grumble.

By 1100, that crosswind was reported at 8 knots, and by 1pm... 4 knots. Go time for my 50nm cross-country. Visibility listed at 10 miles, but Matt warns us (having just flown) that he suspects less through the haze, so be careful. Daniel, (flying his 150 miler), Mike (first solo this morning, first cross-country this afternoon), and I preflight our planes. Today my flavor is 9485 Zulu, a steady mount that has treated me well before.

Oh, and it's 106 degrees on the ramp. Around here they call it 'balmy'.

We finally got a pretty good taste of the fun yet to come in next phases of this program... preflighting, taxiing, and flying together as a team. Daniel got a sizable headstart on us, since he had further to go and not much time to waste, but I stayed behind Mike all the way to Corsicana. Mike had already done a touch-and-go by the time I arrived, and Daniel was climbing out to head for Cleburne. I also landed, came to a full-stop, and taxied back around to do it again. One more and it was time to head home. Once again, Mike got ahead of me by about 10 miles but we kept a close 'radio eye' on each other. Along the way, I made my YouTube debut.



This was over Bardwell Lake, which doesn't show up. That's the Texas Motorplex (a drag strip, not to be confused with Texas Motor Speedway) just ahead of the right wing strut.

I wish I could really explain what I love about this. Amongst the noise and stress of watching traffic and gauges, there's an amazing sense of peaceful solitude up here. As I get better and better at this, I'm sure that sensation will amplify, and I can't wait to get there.

My first solo landing at Arlington wasn't exactly textbook. Approach procedures were perfect to the letter, but as I was on a 45-degree entry for left downwind, the tower and another Cessna miscommunicated and I wound up flying next to her on the remainder of the downwind, which was an odd predicament. Tower thought she was departing to the south, but she re-entered the pattern instead. I couldn't do a 360-degree turn to space us out, since traffic from Grand Prairie Airport was just off to my right. Tower requested an immediate short approach from the other plane, she complied and disappeared onto the runway, and I continued downwind, base, and final. Forgot to retract the flaps before my taxi back to the ramp, but other than that, I think we can chalk this flight up as a success.

It's Daniel's birthday. Burgers and beers at Cheddar's (next to the apartment), then home.

Next... the 150nm cross-country and checkride preps!

Thursday, July 31st

Thunderstorms have been teasing the area the past two days and so there's not much to report, I'm afraid. We're grounded until the weather settles down, so we've spent the past two days watching videos and going over oral exam test questions. We watched 7 hours of these today...



7 hours of Martha King. I'm sure she'll be incorporated into my dreamscape tonight so now I'm too terrified to sleep.

Spent last night with Dave and Brittany and Dave's dad Lyle, who's in town overnight. Had a great meal of Prairie House barbeque and Shiner Bock. Always good to spend time with them... definitely one of my better choices to train here in Dallas, close to good friends.

Took the time tonight to finally go see The Dark Knight. The hype is justified... it's a great movie, with lots of surprises. And Heath Ledger really is a spectacular Joker. I really have nothing new to add to what's already been written about it, I guess. I'm just trying to stay awake...

Tuesday, July 29th

No solo x-country today. Ben had another exercise in mind for me... instrument navigation and unusual attitudes, which I had been looking forward to.

I have been through pilotage and dead-reckoning training, both of which rely on outside visual aids for navigation, and since this in Texas in the summer, we count on VFR conditions just about all the time. But there are instruments on a plane, even on a little Cessna like this, that will help me from getting lost if I happen to wander into IFR conditions. Hence, today's lesson featured a stylish new accessory.

Foggles. Designed to keep your eyes on the instrument panel only, to simulate flying through a cloud or thick fog, when the windshield becomes merely a shield for wind. Ben has me put them on at climbout, about 500 feet AGL, and they didn't come off for about 2 hours. Instrument panel, meet Ryan. Ryan... instrument panel.

Ben calls out headings and I use my heading indicator to aim for them. I maintain altitude (well, kinda... it's rough 102-degree air) and airspeed... not much to it, really. I just have to trust Ben to keep scanning for traffic. He also gives me a long lesson on using the onboard GPS and VOR radials to track to a particular location, in this case the Glen Rose VOR itself, which we lap around.

(Note to my San Diego kin... ever wonder why that big bowling pin is sticking out of the middle of Mission Bay? That's our VOR station.)

There's an extremely hazardous condition common to pilots known as spatial disorientation, which has killed many pilots... most notably JFK, Jr. With so many sensations going on during a flight, it's not difficult in IFR conditions to have the feeling that you're flying straight-and-level, when in fact you could be in a steep dive. Sometimes it's hard for your body to recognize the difference. The unusual attitudes exercise develops trust in one's flight instruments, which is paramount to combating spatial disorientation.

Ben has fun with this exercise, which starts with him taking the controls and telling me to close my eyes and put my head down. The plane starts weaving, dipping, climbing, banking... I was able to keep track of our position for a few seconds, but by by the time I hear "look up", I have no idea what to expect. I open my eyes and look at my gauges. Airspeed increasing rapidly... attitude is nose down and banked. Throttle out, ailerons neutral, recover from dive.

Another one, and upon looking up I see my airspeed slowing down about the same way. I cheated a bit here... I could easily tell that the sun was in my face so I knew I had to recover from this extreme climb before we stalled, and I did.

Another one, and this time the airspeed and attitude indicator were fine, which worried me for a split second until I realized that Ben had tried to pull a fast one. After all the dipping and diving, he had brought us to straight-and-level flight before telling me to open my eyes.

I kept the foggles on the whole way back, using the GPS to get back to Arlington. Ben handled the radio and gave me subtle instruction (5 degrees left, 2 degrees right, etc.), and by the time I got the order to remove the foggles, I was on right downwind for runway 16. Bounced the landing, but hell... I had been blind for the past two hours and I was a little discombobulated. Ben says it happens on all foggle flights.

Good flight, good day. Hoping the solo cross-country comes tomorrow.

Monday, July 28th (1st solo!)

"Wheels up in 30 minutes, Tobin."

This was Matt's 'good morning' to me as I walked in at 0800. There was a stir around the classroom as I arrived and it took me a second, but I realized that it's solo time. Ben had advised the brass of my good flight on Sunday, and they were anxious to rip me away from my proverbial teat. A few wide eyes and thumbs-ups from my mates and I suddenly wished I had ordered a decaf instead.

I called WX Brief for an area forecast and grabbed my flight bag. Matt walked me out to the ramp (another first) and tells me to treat it like any other flight, to relax and just show the man what I've learned. I preflight 441CA, my lucky steed from yesterday.

Javier, the assistant chief pilot, meets me a few minutes later and we chat planeside. He tells me about the same thing Matt told me... to relax and have fun with the flight. I am now Pilot In Command and he was my passenger, and I'm just taking him for a nice ride. I'm still a little tense at this point, but feeling confident until after starting the engine I accidentally cut it by pushing the throttle forward instead of the mixture, something I hadn't done before. I wince and look up to see Matt ahead of me, arms folded, tsk-tsking me from across the ramp. Yikes. Javier tells me one more time to relax, and it worked. I'm now convinced that I've completed my glitch for this mission and I'm suddenly feeling great. Engine restarted, checklists complete, taxi clearance received. Onward.

Smooth air all the way out to the south practice area. Javier is chatty and full of really good advice. It's quickly evident that he knows what he's talking about. I demonstrate steep turns, slow flight, a power-off stall, and an emergency landing simulation over a freshly threshed field. He also takes some extra time to teach me how to do a forward slip, a very fun maneuver designed to hemorrhage altitude while retaining airspeed without flaps.

On to Mid-Way. I get the approach calls in and enter the pattern. Three nice landings later, Javier tells me to go full-stop and taxi to the ramp. He hops out, asks for my logbook and medical certificate, endorses them, then again tells me to relax and take her up for three or four touch-and-goes. He also reminds me that the plane will be a lot lighter without him in it, so be ready.

"Good luck." The door closes. I am all alone.

Longest taxi of my life. Grinning, trying to stay focused, thinking about emergency procedures, correct radio calls, checklists, and that the seat next to me is empty. Hooboy.

I position to the threshold and push full throttle. It's just like any other takeoff, except that it lifts up like an elevator because that seat next to me is empty. By 500 feet AGL I'm laughing aloud hysterically, but I collect myself in time to hit my crosswind position call on the radio. Landing #1 goes great, just like the others. Landing #2, not so much. A crosswind gust rattled me and I bounced it. Landing #3 goes like #1. I call out for full stop and Javier radios me to go around one more time. Landing #4, more of the same. I taxi back to the ramp where Javier flags me into a slot and hops back in. Being the experienced pilot I now am, I try to anticipate the first thing out of his mouth.

"#2?"

"#2. You know what you did?"

"Yep."

"Great. Let's head home. Nice job."

Nailed my approach procedures back to Arlington (except for calling the tower "Mid-Way Traffic" out of habit, which I corrected immediately). Another good landing and we're home. Another logbook signature and I'm officially cleared for solo flight.

Rumor has it that I'm getting thrown to the fast-track wolves starting tomorrow. First solo cross-country (50nm to Corsicana) awaits!

-Alone in Arlington

Sunday, July 27th

Over 20 years of being close friends with musicians, I have occasionally tried to pick up a guitar and strum a few basic chords. No matter how much time passes or how long I practice, I would always give up after not being able to transition from a D to a G. Something just wouldn't click.

Today, something clicked. 114 landings after I started almost three weeks ago, I nailed 6 out of 7 of them over at Mid-Way. I quite suddenly got the feel for how the airplane is supposed to react to ground effect and my flaring inputs. I'm not sure who was smiling bigger... me or instructor Ben.

"I knew you had it in you. We'll make a pilot out of you yet."

It's 105 degrees here, so afternoon flights are suddenly very unpopular. We got excused a little early for the first time ever so I went over to Dave and Brittany's for dinner. Man, Dave can cook!

Saturday, July 26th

"That bitch cut us off!"

So began my first exposure to "air rage". Remarkably similar to road rage, but about 100 miles an hour and 2,000 feet in the air certainly adds a quirky element.

Friday was my first flight with lead instructor Matt (of "donut grease" fame) went well. He's a cantankerous Irishman from Kansas with a foul mouth and a cruel streak... two qualities I happen to admire. He's also a hell of a pilot. After demonstrating maneuvers over Lake Bardwell, we flew over to Mid-Way Airport for some touch-and goes, since it's well known by now that soft landings have been my Achilles heel.

There have been two fatal accidents in two days in this immediate area, so everyone's on edge, watching carefully... or so we thought.

After the first landing, which was I was happy with, especially considering the crosswind, I climb out to re-enter the pattern. Just after calling out my position (turning left crosswind for runway 1-8) to the area and preparing to turn left downwind, another Skyhawk (something something Romeo Juliet) appeared ahead and just above us, entering the downwind leg straight on, which is a big no-no.

"Traffic, high!", I barked, and I cut the throttle in half while Matt yanked the yoke to the right to avoid it. It passed across our nose just about 200 feet off. Just then, a female voice crackled over the radio.

"Midway Traffic, Cessna Something Something Romeo Juliet entering left downwind for 1-8, full stop". No shit.

"That bitch cut us off!" Matt was instantly beet red. "My controls!" He pushes full throttle, steers us to pattern altitude behind her and clicks the mic.

"Ahem... Midway traffic, Cessna 9379 Foxtrot is also on left downwind for 1-8, and thanks for the radio call," Matt chirped.

"Ahem yourself... this is Class Echo airspace, sir... it's for everybody."

Matt's face twists into a knot. "I know her! We're going full stop, too. I gotta pee anyway."


We land (another nice one, thankyouverymuch), and taxi to the main hangar. Matt opens the door an bolts the second we stop. While I secure the plane, I scan the area but can't find him anywhere. A full 15 minutes goes by before he returns, grumbling.

"Bitch ducked me and locked the door. Let's go home." I chose to let a seething man seethe.


Today I did my 150nm "cross-country" flight, from Arlington to Corsicana to Cleburne to Mid-Way to home, with more pilotage and landing successes. Gotta refine more items such as falling behind on checklists, but feeling pretty good overall. No word on solos yet, but I know the instructors are looking for more from all of us before that happens. More to come.