Long Cross-Country Complete!

Now that the weather in New England has gotten better for flying, I went from delaying my solo cross-country to Groton for 2-3 weeks to completing both that flight and my solo long cross-country within 26 hours of eachother. Since I've alreadt recapped on the first one, let me detail the Oxford-Groton-New Bedford-Oxford trip now...

A few minutes after 4pm yesterday I arrived at Oxford, where Chris was ready for me. I did my preflight, then we went inside to review the flight plans and everything while the plane got fueled up. Chris asked for my flight plan, which I have maticulously detailed: one page for the OXC-GON flight, one for the GON-EWB leg and the third page for the EWB-OXC return flight, all complete with airport diagrams, checkpoints, radios frequencies and notes as needed.

Chris asked me: "what's your plan for Providence airspace?"
"I plan on staying south of it from Groton to New Bedford, then flying over it at 4500' from New Bedford back to Oxford."
"How will you know you're high enough before you enter their airspace?"
I pointed to the notes section on the third page of flight plans and read it outloud: "If not at 4500' by first checkpoint, circle and climb to 4500 feet. If needed, call Providence (134.5) below 4100 feet."
Visibily impressed, Chris replied, "ok, yeah, you're all set then." I love it when my hard work and attention to detail shows and is done correctly.

Chris signed off everything in my logbook, then wrote a quick note for me on a small piece of paper. He folded it in half and wrote "In case of emergency" on it before folding it in half one-more time. He then told me:

"I've done this for all of my students for this flight - all nine of you. Don't open this unless there's an emergency. You can open it when you get back, but not before then."
Curious, I half-jokingly asked: "What is it? Identification in case I crash? I have my driver's license on me."
"Haha, yeah, that's fire-proof paper," Chris laughed.

I promised not to open it until I got back, and while the tempation to peak was hard, I kept my word.

When I climbed into the plane I turned off the VOR to prevent radios problems like those from yesterday's flight. Chris hadn't flown this plane since I tied it down last night.

Everything went perfectly smooth during run-up and take-off. Chris was in front of me on the taxi-way, flying his brother to Hartford. His take-off and climb out were flawless, of course. Mine weren't bad, I noted as I accended. I've certainly gotten much better at holding center-line.

Having just made this leg of the flight the prior day, I forgot to use my flight plan until I was already passing Waterbury (my first checkpoint) and onto my second. Two-three checkpoints later I stopped looking for checkpoints: I knew where the airport was, and I had the "digital VOR" which was quickly becoming a favorite tool of mine. (Chris had told me I could use anything in the plane to make this flight; every tool was at my disposal.)

When I got to Groton, everything went smoothly. I took a few photos and a short video of the airport (and a close-up on my face - by mistake - of me saying "Welcome to Groton" over the sound of the engine) as I taxied back to runway 23 for a take-off. Still the only runway at Groton I've had the chance to use.

Before requesting take-off for the second leg of the trip I reviewed my flight plan and sectional (which had flight paths and checkpoints marked): what was my heading going to be? what altitude was I flying at? what was my first checkpoint? how far out was it? etc. Once I felt relatively confident about flying to an airport I'd never seen before, I got clearence to take-off and depart northeast.

During the take-off roll on the runway birds were flying out of the way, which is usual, but I came within feet of striking one on the lower-right side of my plane almost as soon as I took-off. I'm not sure what would have happened, but I was able to remain calm and focused, which I proud of. There's not a whole lot you can do with a sucidial pidgeon when you're flying -- just don't get yourself into trouble trying to avoid hitting it. Sort of like when you have to avoid running over a squirrel in a car: do your best to avoid it, but don't choose to run into an oncoming truck to save the squirrel. Aside from that the climb out was both smooth and BEAUTIFUL. I took more photos and another short video clip, which will be posted eventually (my apologies for not posting all my promised photos yet!).

The flight to New Bedford (EWB) was calm. I found myself almost completely ignoring my flight plan, and just using my marked-up sectional to figure out how to get there, and how to make sure I was clear of Providence airspace. Again, the "digital VOR" was helpful too. The most exciting part about that leg of the trip (aside from the stunning water scenes below me) was a small Diamond (a type of plane) that passed below me, but he was well clear of me. The fact that I was able to scan and find other traffic successfully felt good though.

On the route I finally figured out how New Bedford got such a weird airport tag of "EWB": New Bedford -> newbedford -> nEWBedford -> EWB. That helped me remember both the name, and the tag, of the airport.

Coming in for landing everything was going fine. I finally was entering the downwind leg of the pattern, meaning I could do a more "typical" pattern landing in terms of when I put my flaps down, etc. I was coming in so high that I made sure to decend rapidly. When I got to pattern altitude (about 1070' there) and was setting up for landing on runway 23 (yes, 23 at EWB too) I was still decending. I slowed my decent a bit, but still opted to make tighter traffic once I was cleared for landing. As I'm making my turn base - then final - I heard the tower clear someone to take-off on the runway. I slowed my flight down and thought about radioing the tower "Uhh, tower, comfirm 987 clear to land runway 23?" but decided it might rub the tower the wrong way; besides, I was perfectly able to space out a bit and land clear of the departing craft.

I made my landing smoothly and tower asked where I wanted to go. I requested "transient parking" which I thought was the name of "temporary" parking at an airport, but the tower asked me to repeat. I used the word "temporary" this time to make sure my intentions were clear, and stated that I was unfamiliar with the airport. (Despite having a crude diagram on my flight plan I'd certainly never been there before, and was by no definition "familiar" with where to park.) After all, there's no point in using the correct terminology (assuming "transient" even was) if it doesn't get the idea across.

The tower gave me instruction to taxi via bravo to parking, though I didn't understand where he instructed me to park. I decided to try to find out myself before asking him, but first he had me hold short of crossing taxiway alpha as a jet came towards me and took alpha to the runway. He then instructed me to continue to parking once the jet was clear, where I found a young man directing me where to park. I was approaching him, but didn't turn when he apparently wanted me to. Clearly I should have gotten more familiar with hand signals. He made a gesture to explain to loop around into the parking spot, which I did. Upon turning off the engine I apologized and told him I was a student pilot - the only person I told the whole trip. He was very understanding, and directed me to the bathrooms.

I tied the plane down, had some crackers I brought along and called Chris as I was instructed. He congradulated me and told me he wouldn't be there when I got back, but to call him again then. I made another call to a friend, but ended up leaving a voicemail. I used the bathroom, got some water, took a few photos (they'll come, I swear!), then checked my fuel. I had enough, but there was no reason NOT to put more in, so I had Paul - the guy who helped me park - put in 4 gal in each wing. Since the cost of fuel was built into the plane rental, I got a reciept so I could get paid back.

I checked the planes fuel after paying for it, but that was the extent of my preflight since I'd only landed 15 minutes ago. I untied the plane and got cleared for take-off back towards Oxford. Nothing usual about it, but still AWESOME that I was in Massachusetts - after crossing Rhode Island - alone in a plane. I focused and commanded the plane to climb to the 4500' cruise altitude I'd chosen for my flight back, clearing Prodivence's airspace at 4100'. I made it to the altitude as planned, without having to circle over my first checkpoint like I'd read to Chris, but I still wasn't comfortable. See, Providence is a class C airport - which is pretty big, like Bradley in Connecticut is. Even though I was 400' above the top of their airspace, I knew there would be traffic - BIG traffic - in the area, and I didn't want to risk dipping 500' and getting in trouble. I decided to call Providence approach.

"Providence approach, Cessna November 48984 with request." After a minute with no reply I repeated. That time I got an answer.
"November 48984, state request and location."
"November 48984, departing New Bedford, flying west towards Oxford-Waterbury, request flight following."
"48984, squawk 0444, ident"
"November 48984, squawking 0444"
Once I changed my transponder from 1200 (for standard VFR flight) I pressed the "ident" button to confirm the change. They then called back: "November 48984, got your ident."

They were very busy, as was Bradley approach during my one experience with Chris. I noticed a Boeing 737? 747? decending about 7-10 miles in front of me, so I went a little further south to stay clear. In fact, it wasn't until I got much closer that I even realized I was passing over the path a Boeing just took. Awesome! I was a little concerned, however, that approach didn't warn me about that traffic, so I kept my eyes peeled for other traffic, not wanting to rely on approach. It was tough though, since I was heading west -- directly towards the setting sun like last evening's return flight.

"November 48984 Airbus 6000 at 11 to 12 o'clock" they called me.
"November 48984, could you repeat the altitude?"
"6000 ft, 1000 ft above you, between 11 and 12 o'clock" he repeated. If he was annoyed, it wasn't clear.
A moment later "984, traffic in sight." Let me tell you, those things are HUGE, even when you're 1000' below and not directly under them. I knew I was clear of him though, so there was no worry, and I was almost past the busy area, having only seen the two jets.

About 10-20 miles later I requested to terminate flight following. This one took a second call again, but was then granted. I realized I was well south of my flight plan's path, but using the "digital VOR" and my sectional I realized I didn't care about the flight plan. I knew where I was, I knew where I was going, and I knew what I was doing. It was pretty cool being so confident in my ability.

Most of the rest of the flight back included me snacking on peanuts (all long flights have peanuts, don't they?), singing to myself ("Whole New World" was still in my head), taking photos (mostly of the sunset) and relaxing (including barely touching the controls). It was a nice, though at moments boring, flight back. I tried to figure out breifly how to turn on the AM radio Chris once showed me that the plane had, but gave up quickly. I decided it was best not to start twisting a bunch of knobs I thought was the radio only to find out it was something critical.

As the sun crept behind the final peaks of the mountains out west, I knew it was going to be another twilight landing. Having just been through one yesterday, and today confident in my tools and abilities, I was unfazed. When I finally got to Oxford I made all my radio calls, spotting the traffic I was to follow and set-up my landing perfectly. I noticed as I decended on final that I love the way an airport looks at night: like Christmas with all the little white, red, green and blue lights adorning the runway and taxiways. With all my flaps in - something I hadn't done for either previous landing that trip - I was coming in nice and slow. Like yesterday's landing back at Oxford's runway 36, I noticed ground effect almost worked in opposite again: instead of hovering for a few seconds above the runway the plane felt like a giant magnet was dragging it down. I kept applying back-pressure, but not fast enough, so I jerked it. Oops. I definitely stopped decending, but I was now doing the "burp" that often ends in a less-than-smooth landing. I pushed the nose over and managed to flair slightly, making for a smoother landing, but still not the best of the day.

The ATC cleared me to taxi back to Classic Air (he must be so familiar with 48984 by now that he knew where I wanted to taxi to) and I took a few photos of the sunset behind the tower as I taxied in. I turned off the plane, logged my time and tied it down. I left Chris a voicemail and was finished. My long cross-country was done.

On the drive back to my house, Chris called and congradulated me again. He told me to call him back on Sunday to plan what we'll do next, but until then he'd text me the number of the guy I'd be taking my check-ride with to call Friday (today). In 2-3 weeks, I will be taking my test. My next lesson will be sometime next week, so you can expect my next post then. Until that time though, I think I'm taking a break - I'm exhausted after flying 4.7 hours solo in a 26 hour span. My flying this week is done.

...

I stopped for gas en route and pulled out my wallet. I almost forgot about a small piece of paper that was folded up inside it, reading "in case of emergency." Having kept my word to Chris, I finally opened it. It read:

Emergency huh
To bad
Figure it out!
Sincerely
Christopher

Finally Solo'd - Just not to Groton

Sorry it's been so long since I updated, but here's a summary of how things are going...

Saturday afternoon I arrived at the airport just before it started pouring. Huge storms were rolling in, so I helped move the airplanes around and tie them down. There was clearly going to be no flying that day; there were thunderstorms all over New England and winds gusting to 60mph. I hung around the airport for a bit, then finally left, scheduled my next lesson for Tuesday, since I couldn't make it before then.

Monday night my plans freed up, but Chris wasn't able to make it when I called him (and he said the weather wasn't good enough anyway), so no lesson then.

Yesterday was looking good. I was worried that the clouds were too low, so I was tracking them all day: 1-800-WX-BRIEF, AviationWeather.gov, OXC ATIS (Oxford's Automated Weather line). Everything said the lowest clouds were 3600-3900' -- just high enough -- and moving up. At lunch I thought "I should call Chris" but upon asking myself "why? To say: 'see you tonight'? I'll just see him at 6."

So I got to the airport a little after 6 only to find Classic Air Services (the company Chris works for) closed and locked. So I called him and left a voicemail. When he called back he confirmed what I expected: he was at his house, and the weather wasn't good enough for me to go. I wasn't too happy, but I knew I should have called him earlier so I wasn't mad with him. He suggested I do some touch-and-gos solo (he wasn't too worried about the insurance; I'm a much better pilot now so he just warned me to be careful), since I was there already. Considering how much I wanted to fly, that I wanted to practice some solo landings and I needed more solo time, this sounded good to me. So I hopped in the plane and went. Have I mentioned how great it feels to be able to do that?

Start-up, taxi-out, engine run-up: everything was fine. I remembered to set my transponder to ALT (so I can be tracked by ATC if needed), something that I've been forgetting in recent flights. As soon as I got enough speed and took off I was climbing FAST. Normally I would be very happy with this, but for some reason it was extra bumpy today. So I gave it some nose-down trim to slow my climb, and made my left-turn cross-wind fairly shallow, using rudder to swing the plane around. During my run-up the airport had gotten VERY busy, so when I called tower to request my first touch-and-go he told me to extend my down-wind so other traffic could come in first. No problem -- I just kept going straight past the airport...

I was starting to get concerned when I was 3 miles away from Oxford (which isn't as far as non-pilots might think, but I've normally turned within half that distance). I was getting ready to call tower and remind them of my position (I was NOT going to turn without their permission; that would get me in a lot of trouble and risk hitting another plane) when finally they called me:

"984, I've lost sight of you. Where are you now?"
"This is 984, I'm about 3 to the Northwes-- sorry, Northeast."
"Ok, I see you. When you get to 4, turn final and report."
"984, will report final turn at 4"

I got a little past 4 by the time I completed my turn to base, but that worked well because when I turned final there were so many people talking (including one person who ATC started yelling at to reply) that I didn't get to call until I was 4 miles out. I called just after ATC had given someone else clearance to land.

"Oxford Tower, this is 984, I'm at a 4 mile final."
"984, you're number 2 to land following traffic turning base. Continue at the slowest possible speed you safely can."
"984, number 2, looking for traffic, slowing down."

A few seconds later I found the traffic and reported it. Once he landed I was clear to land. As I came in I turned on the carb heat and dropped in my flaps. By the time I had it all in I felt like I was going very slow, but my airspeed indicator said I was going at least 80. As soon as I got over the airport it got VERY bumpy. It felt like a crosswind from the east was pushing me left of the runway, but I used rudder properly and stayed calm and confident -- key in any landing. I performed my touch-and-go and was told to make left traffic again, so I did. Climb up was just as bumpy as last time, but now the clouds looked like they were starting to creep down.

Nothing too exciting about that touch-and-go. Traffic had slowed down; the only two staying in the pattern were myself and another student pilot who was landing and taxiing back. As I came in for that second touch-down I heard their conversation:

"Oxford tower this is Hotel 81 holding short of 18 request take-off."
"Hotel 81, hold short."
"Roger that."
"Hotel 81, repeat back the command. State intentions."
"Oh, I'm looking to do 3 more landings and taxi back."
"Hotel 81, no, I mean: when a controller tells you to hold short the pilot is required to repeat 'holding short' back"
"Oh. Hotel 81 holding short. Sorry, student pilot."

I was surprised at how patient the controller sounded. He must have been in a good mood (he did congratulate a previous pilot on his short landing earlier). It was probably Ben, who was in the tower on the day Chris took me up to tour it.

During climb-out this time I was told to make right-traffic, so I did. The clouds on the left looked like they were getting higher again, so it seemed like I was directed to the cloudier side. I knew this was because there was some traffic east of the airport (which was to my left as I departed runway 18), but I still thought it was funny. I'd hardly ever done right traffic off runway 18 before, so it was certainly a good experience to see what it looked like from there. I was going to make this my full-stop landing, but ATC called me before I could contact them and cleared me for another touch-and-go, so I figured I'd go for it.

All of my landings were fine, but during this take-off I encountered serious force pushing me left. I don't know if it was just the force of the prop turning, or if there was a gust of wind too or something. I'd been building up my speed on the runway pretty high before take-off on my previous climbs, but this time I decided to pull back a little since I wasn't keeping center line very well after that force. I should have just corrected with right rudder; I'll remember that for next time. Minor mistake considering I already had plenty of airspeed, but still something to work on.

This time during climb out the ATC called me:

"984, the pattern is clear so you can make any traffic either way. Which do you want?"
"984, I'll make right traffic again, thanks."
"984, right traffic approved."

That was pretty cool, being given an option by the controller. Seriously, whoever this guy was he was my ideal ATC.

I went right to get more familiar with that pattern, since, as I'd said before, I wasn't used to it. At mid-field I called and requested a full-stop.

"984, you're clear to land number 2 following traffic turning left base. Report insight."
"984, clear to land number 2, looking for traffic."
[A moment passes.]
"984, traffic in sight."

I extended my downwind again, but only about a 1/2 mile this time (as opposed to the 3 miles the first time). I came in for my landing and touched down smoothly. (I need to remember to focus my eyes on the END of the runway once I enter my flair, it always makes my landings so much better.)

Then came the best part of the whole evening:

"984, taxi back with me via Alpha. And I don't know if you're a student, but you held your own very well in the unusual pattern today, very good work."
"984, taxiing via Alpha. And yes, I'm a student, and thank you very much! Have a good evening."
"Thanks, you too."

Having an air traffic controller commend you on your flight performance? One of the highest compliments I can think of while acting as pilot in command. I'm still pretty proud of myself for that.

I taxied back, shut down the plane and tied it down, double-checking to make sure I entered the time in both logbooks, performed the shut-down correctly and had properly tied the plane down. Chris had left me a message apologizing for the night's confusion, and suggesting that the weather was supposed to be very good on Thursday. I called back and left him another message, mostly just letting him know I landed safe, tied the plane down and was "go" for Thursday. On my drive out I checked ATIS one last time -- the clouds were now at 1700' -- pattern altitude. I was correct about my observations while flying. Always a nice thing to confirm.

Today it's pouring out and foggy all around. Hopefully Chris's forecast for tomorrow will be correct. Either way I'll be making another post soon. All next week (Saturday to Saturday) I'll be on vacation with my family (and girlfriend) at Sandbridge Beach in Virginia, so Chris and I are trying to get my solo in before then. Thursday looks like it's our best shot.

We'll see soon enough. Until then, here's hoping for good weather.

Cross Country & Rain

Well, the rain went away in time for the weekend! In fact, the weather forecast for Saturday was "calm winds, clear below 12,000' and visibility greater than 10 miles." In other words, perfect conditions. When I got to the airport though, Chris seemed skeptical. He showed me AviationWeather.gov and showed how everything was great -- except the dew point. You see, the closer the tempature and the dew point are, the more hazy the conditions are. Well, turns out they were pretty close on Saturday.

After telling me we weren't going to Groton (which has only 1 "T" in it, oops!), Chris said we could still go up and possibly divert somewhere else. So we went, using the flight plan I made the previous night.

The ride was smooth (except under one cloud), but hazy the whole way. I kept waiting for Chris to tell me to divert to another airport, but I kept finding my checkpoints en route and he seemed pleased with that. He showed me how to use the VOR, which I grasped the basics of, and we used that until Groton was in sight. I got ATIS and called the tower. The guy there was CRANKY! Chris warned me that all ATCs are like this, and that the guys at Oxford are just really cool. Great.

There was a lot of traffic at Groton, and the ATC's voice was speaking faster than I could listen. As soon as I finished talking to him, he'd already be on the radio again talking back to me -- so fast that I'd miss the "984" that he'd start his reply with to indicate he was talkign to me. I had to turn to Chris a few times and ask "was that directed to us?"

We did our landing and taxiied back, giving me a chance to see the airport a little. There are two runways (and a third that had been closed down) which cross each other to make an "X", runway 23/5 and 15/33. We landed -- and took off -- on runway 23, right over the water. After we climbed to 1000' we turned right and Chris made me fly back with no navigation tools: no flight plan, no map, no VOR and without the digital system (which basically acts like a digital VOR). All I could use was my eyes and memory. I made a mistake at one point of thinking Meriden was Waterbury, but corrected it as we got closer.

My big mistake of the flight actually took place within the traffic pattern. We were #2 to land, so I was extending my downwind before turning to base. Then I made a stupid mistake -- part out of stupid reasoning and partly out of just not thinking -- I extended my base. Here's a visual:


The problem is that the traffic patter isn't just flown to the left of the runway, but to the right of it too. Sure enough, I flew into the right side when I extended my base, while there was traffic there. I never saw any, so I couldn't have been about to hit it, but Chris took the controls and jerked the plane to the left. I don't know if it was really as dramatic as he made it seem, but you can be sure I won't forget a sudden 60 degree bank left just before landing. That's a mistake I'll be thinking about more when I'm in the pattern from now on.

We landed and Chris told me that (aside from that stupid mistake) my navigation was great. My radios with Groten could have been better (I called them "Oxford" before take-off, and told them we were North-East -- when we were really North West -- when entering their space, though I corrected myself on that one), but overall he was VERY impressed. He sincerely didn't expect us to make that flight, but I had done well. If the weather on Sunday was good, I'd be making the trip solo. I was nervous at the idea of that, but if Chris trusted me, I could too. He has pretty high expectations.

I left that afternoon praying for good weather.

That night I woke up between 4 and 5 am to pouring rain and sounds of thunder. "Shit," I thought. "Flying's off." When I woke up around 9:30 (what good's the weekend if you can't sleep in?) the rain and thunder had passed, but it was cloudy and wet outside. Chris called and we agreed to meet anyway, but not go flying unless it really cleared up. Thirty minutes later there was signs of the sun and Chris called again. We were flying. I called 1-800-WX-BRIEF to get a forecast to Groton, and they warned me of thunderstorms on my route. So we were flying, but I wasn't going to solo even if Chris let me.

I got to the airport and things were looking down again. Any signs of the sun had hidden behind the clouds. Chris and I sat down and he explained VORs to me in more detail -- how they work, how to read them, etc. Then he pulled out the "pre-cross-country solo exam." I wasn't prepared for this; I quit studying after I passed the written. I filled it out as best I could, certain I failed. After I handed it to Chris he informed me that the score didn't matter: I just had to go over it with him. In fact, he thought a few of the questions were wrong as he graded it, but it was done, and that was the important thing.

We checked the weather and he suggested a few touch-and-gos. I informed him I would not do them solo, but that if he was up for it, alright. So we went for "three landings" Chris said. When we got to pattern altitude (1700' at Oxford) visibility was 5 miles at best. I made a tighter turn from base to final to not repeat past mistakes and came in for the landing. Chris told me to perform a go-around, so I gave it full throttle, carb heat (I was thinking of the Goodspeed incident as I did it) and the first notch of flaps up. Chris radioed that we were doing the go around. Second and final notches of flaps, sequentially. I nailed it.

Just before turning to base some rain appeared on the windsheild. I asked Chris if we should land it, cause I wasn't looking to fly through rain. "Nope, we do one more," he said.

While on final it was raining more. I wanted to touch-down and stop. "You sure?" I asked.
"Positive," Chris said. So we did the touch-and-go.

Upon the final turn to downwind I found myself entering a cloud (which Chris called "fog"; I don't see a difference) at 1700'. We decended to 1600' to get clear of it, but I had had about enough. The visibility must have been down to 3 miles and it was still raining. We performed the final landing (worse than the previous one) and taxiied back.

Overall it wasn't too bad. Chris said I "freaked out", but I just don't think Chris has ever seen me freak out. I thought I was using good judgement to say "hey, let's not fly through rain." It wasn't until we finished that Chris said it was good practice in case I ever find myself in that situation. Good point. Thinking about it that way I wish we'd done more practice. He's always got a good reason for what he does -- I'm just a little to slow to pick up on it sometimes.

The next flight is schedule for 6pm on Tuesday. Weather pending, I'll solo to Groton then. Wish me luck.