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!