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.
2 comments:
Hi Ryan, You are definitely cramming a lot into that mind of yours in a short time and finesse WILL catch up. At the risk of information overload and being one more instructor, I have a few pearls of wisdom. Small trainers are harder fly and land than the heavier planes you'll be flying (like float and bounce around.) The thing that I recall most helped my landings, especially in light aircraft, were: Set up the approach speed as soon as possible. Control your speed with pitch. Control your decent with power. Get to your flap one speed soon enough to help your decent. Slips in small planes can help a decent; but, don't cross control at too slow a speed - SNAP. Look down the runway (as well as from side-to-side) to visualize the AC's appearance of moving up or down relative to your desired touch down spot.
Juan Ace
Yeah... What he said. Oh, and try your best to keep the plane airborne until you choose to land it. Sage advice, my friend. Stick with me and you might just learn something.
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