Motivation Insights

Another dual lesson today, in gusty conditions and a bit of rain. Again, it at first appeared that we might not fly today, but the incoming cold front held off just long enough to give me some good practice with strong headwinds (dropping like a rock with full flaps), and then, just for good measure, a switch to the perpendicular runway to try a direct 12-knot or so crosswind. It went fairly well, but the other runway is much shorter (about 2500 feet or so), so if you float even a little, you've practically used it up.

My patterns are coming along, and even with the winds, I can maintain a pretty good rectangle. On top of that, the tower kept us in right traffic the whole time, so I had a total of 9 approaches that way, with 2 to the left on the small runway. Good practice, even though it completely baffled the instructor (there was no particular reason for the tower to do it, since there really wasn't much traffic around.)

The problem today, and one that I have been anticipating since the start, is losing a contact lens at some critical moment. I had a mental contingency plan for dealing with it, namely, give the airplane to the instructor and put it back in. Today, it decided to happen during a practice engine failure on takeoff. That's a rush. So I'm trying to put the plane back down, my lens pops out, and I can't focus on the runway. It took a few seconds to figure out that it wasn't going to fix itself, and we had to climb out. T.I. was asking all about how it happens (and how often) and what the plan is if I'm solo. He doesn't wear lenses, so the whole idea is foreign to him. I need to get a backup pair of glasses to take with me in the future, and then hope it doesn't happen again.

So, in preparing to solo, and wondering if it's going to be the next flight...or the next...or the next, I can see how someone could easily become discouraged. All the studying and practicing, your head is full of mnemonics, acronyms, stall speeds, procedures, etc. After all that, all you can do is keep practicing until it falls into place. No additional reading will magically make your landings turn out, (although every so often you read something that gives you a new perspective). So, you trudge on, wondering what you're doing wrong and why it's taking you longer than your friend to solo. It's easy to lose sight of the goal.

My inadvertent solution was simply to not open the textbook or lesson manual for a week or so. There wasn't anything new in there, and I just had to turn my mind to something else. The other half of this was that instead of the lessons, I began reading two new books about aviators. One is Bob Hoover's autobiography, and the other is titled "Fliers" and is a compilation of interviews with all sorts of different pilots. The key was that these books and some other reading remind me why I'm doing this in the first place. All of these folks had their trials, and some of them have crashed their planes, but the focus was on why they fly and what they get out of it. Whether they are military, airline, crop dusters, bush pilots, or recreational, there is a deeper meaning and purpose that pulled them up into the air and kept them active at it. When the weather doesn't cooperate, the plane is just doing whatever it wants, when you're just not getting it right, it's good to have a reminder of what it's all about.

You have to love to fly.