Back from Holiday

All the wrong combinations of work, weather, holiday, and travel led to a two-week hiatus. Needed to get flying again, but also needing cross-country and some hood time, I was going to just go up and do some maneuvers to stay in the game. It was supposed to just be some nice, easy flying to keep the skills fresh. Unfortunately, the weather didn't clear up quite as much as it was supposed to, and the winds were up in the 15-knot range...too much for solo work. But, of course, a pilot's luck is a valuable thing.

The only reason I was planning on solo was that the instructor was all booked up for today. The maintenance gods had different intentions, and three of the planes (but not mine) were down for service of one sort or another. One was a DA-40 with some kind of stress crack in a virtually brand new prop. The pieces fell into place such that my instructor was then free to do some dual hood work, which is exactly what I need.

So, with a brisk 32-degree, 15-knot wind, I pre-flighted(flew?) the plane and off we went. The surface winds weren't even as strong as the winds aloft, and we had a huge crab angle on climbout (and just as large coming back for landing, which really messed up my turns.) Under the hood I went, and we did some VOR tracking and slow flight, which I did all right on, but I think the two weeks off took its toll. I was not quite with the plane, and I had to spend some extra moments just keeping the plane on course and at the right altitude. Then, we did some steep turns, which really turned into a roller coaster. My instructor said its one of the hardest maneuvers in the DA-20, but I was still all over the sky.

The hardest part was keeping the pitch just right. Too much and the plane slows down and starts a climb. Too little, and the nose drops like a rock and the airspeed gets way into the yellow. And if you go into it wrong, it just gets worse as the plane oscillates between a diving spiral and a climbing not-quite stall. So, I was at least able to hold it together and keep the banks steep, and I was able to come out on the right heading, but I definitely wasn't in the zone. We did quite a few of these and then did a couple "VFR" on the way in. Those were much better.

Finally, we came in for some nice crosswind pattern work. This was actually fairly straightforward, except for some pretty wonky turns in the strong winds. I did one with half-flaps and three with full. I also practiced transitioning into a slip at about a 1/4 mile final (which is what my night instructor had me do). I actually like doing it that way, and it doesn't seem too weird, although I've read that uninitiated passengers get a bit ill from long sideslips.

Of course, there's always a gremlin...

Upon shutting down and getting all my things, I reached to shut off my GPS (which, up until now, has logged each of my flights). Somehow, it failed to ever lock on to the satellites, and I didn't get a track this time. Oh well. I would have liked to have seen my turns and pattern work, but I guess it will just have to go into the mental vault.

YOYO (You're On Your Own)

The volatile mix of work and weather allowed a narrow window of opportunity. During the winter, dedicated skiers who have understanding workplaces watch for the perfect powder days. When the conditions are right and work can stand to wait a day, it's on. Flying is much the same way these days. Pilot's can become quite the weather-watchers, and when a narrow ridge of cold, high pressure comes to roost for an afternoon, sometimes you just need to go. An extra bonus is when other students cancel their appointments because the forecast says clouds, but they turn out to be nothing (or at least are delayed by a few hours). The end result is an opportunity for a solo cross country flight.

I've had a flight plan sitting in my bag, just waiting for the right day. Today, my instructor was flying all day, but I still needed him to review the plan with the current weather and time of day in mind. I managed to catch him just at the right time, and I was cleared to go, sort of. My original plan was for about a 2.5 hour round trip, but the day was getting on, and we were concerned about getting back after dark. Luckily, there is another field just close enough to meet the distance requirements and still return just barely by sundown. T.I. is comfortable with my abilities, and I am comfortable with the weather, although there were about 20 knots blowing aloft, so I was expecting a few bumps.

In any case, the "go" was decided, and I was off. These first cross-country flights highlight the concept of the best laid plans going awry. Primarily, it is a space problem. As before, I have the chart, navigation logs, airport diagrams, and miscellaneous other documents all neatly organized in a clipboard. In an ideal situation, as the flight progresses, I will note times as I pass checkpoints, and monitor my speed and fuel. However, this is a handful as I am trying to fly the airplane, especially in the spots of turbulence. It really is not too much different than trying to write while driving. The GPS, as much as I hate to use it as a crutch, really saves the day.

I was still able to keep the chart open and monitor it, while changing radio frequencies and fiddling with the VOR receiver. But that was about the extent of it. Overall, since I am familiar with the terrain and the towns I was flying over, this was not a problem. It will be interesting to venture over places I have not been before. This time, at least, I concentrated on holding course and altitude, configuring for climbs, cruise, and descents, watching outside, and just feeling comfortable with the plane.

So, aside from the brief intervals of turbulence (mostly on the return trip), the flight was a success. I did a touch-and-go at the half-way point (in gusty winds), a full stop landing and a "real" short-field takeoff at the destination, then fought the headwinds and made it back almost exactly on schedule, with the sun going down and the field lights coming on. Not "night", but it made for a nice return landing at dusk. Although the last landing suffered a bit from a stiff crosswind that petered out about 50 feet above the ground, so I wallowed a bit getting it down straight, but it all worked out.

The total length of the flight was about 230 miles, done in about 2 hours, 10 minutes. Not bad for a first solo cross-country, but it was easy to identify things that I should have been keeping better track of. One is to scan the engine instruments a bit more often, and the other is to watch for emergency landing sites a bit more often. One reason for that was my familiarity with the area and the wind that could have easily carried me over 10 miles from 5,000 feet above the ground. Again, it was good that I was at least conscious of this, and the flight was a good stepping stone to more unfamiliar areas.

Loose Ends

Today was not originally scheduled as a flying day, but the weather this week is not supposed to be all that great. Since it turned into a sunny afternoon and there was a plane free for an hour, I took the opportunity to fly some pattern work and try to clean up my soft- and short-field takeoffs and landings.

I flew 10 approaches, with mixed results. I did a couple on the short crosswind runway, too, just to force the tighter tolerances. Since I have the majority of the required hours, my remaining work is solo cross-country and a bit of hood-work. Anything else is whatever I feel needs more refinement, which tends to be my landings.

Today, though, I was also getting a better mental picture of the airplane's movements through the air. The important thing is to "stay ahead of the airplane" and be able to anticipate what is going to happen next. This is done through a combination of watching the instruments, looking outside, listening to the wind and engine, and feeling the motion of the plane and the responsiveness of the controls. Early on, a lot of this is done by constantly cross-checking the airspeed indicator and the vertical speed indicator while watching the plane descend for landing. Today, I felt that I had to look at them less, while depending on the "muscle memory" of holding the right control pressures at the right times. This meant that I could spend a few extra seconds looking outside and judging my glide visually. It was an important shift toward trusting the plane to do what I've asked it to do and allowing it to continue with minimal prompting.

All was not perfect, however. As I made the first touch-and-go from the crosswind runway, I was busy watching my pattern and making the turns at different locations. This meant that I neglected to raise the flaps during the climbout. At the typical pattern speed and the amount of time between the climb, level off, and descent, there wasn't quite enough time to notice that my airspeed didn't quite get up to what it should have. So when it came time to lower the flaps again, I did so without looking, and ended up putting in full flaps too early. It took a few seconds to figure out why my speed and power settings didn't agree, but once I did, I managed to get the plane configured properly. Unfortunately, the turn toward the runway suffered a bit while I was doing this, and I came in a bit too steep. Since this short runway doesn't leave much for error, I touched down, but had to quickly get it back up into the air. Not pretty, but not a terrible go-around either. Although it was intended to be a touch-and-go, it would have really been better described as an aborted landing.

I should add also, that this incident did not go unnoticed. Coincidentally, a coworker who is also a pilot happened to be driving along the freeway under the pattern as I was performing this display. He mentioned the next day that he saw one of my school's "plastic airplanes" motoring around the pattern with full flaps in... So I 'fessed up that it was, indeed, yours truly. We had a good laugh...the dirty rat.

Coming up will be the solo cross-country, as soon as the weather allows.

Real-time Weather Decisions

The internet is really a great tool for aviation, especially when it comes to weather forecasting and trip decisions. Although pilots are required to have a complete outline of the trip (and one of the best ways is through 1-800-WX-BRIEF), it's always a good idea to bone up on the current and forecast weather before giving the briefer a call. That way, you know ahead of time what they should be telling you and it is easier to listen to the specific details without trying to picture it in your head.

Today, I had a bit of information that, somehow, the briefer did not. Inexplicably, as I was looking at the current field weather on my computer screen, the briefer's system indicated "no information". And my source was the automated weather directly from the airport. I don't know where Lockheed-Martin gets its data, but it had better get with the program.

Not that it would have made much difference. The intended flight was a 250 mile night round trip that would have skirted right along a cold front in winds of 30 to 40 knots. The forecast was literally changing hourly, since no one could seem to get a handle on where the front would move and how fast. Rather than push the envelope, we opted for a bit shorter flight along the same route that I flew just two days ago. With it being night, this was fine with me, but I didn't have any flight plan made up for the trip. So we "winged it" as it were, and used VOR and GPS navigation to make the run.

It was still windy, but not as bad in the direction we were going -- only about 25 knots or so. So we made terrible time on the outbound leg, but definitely made it back on the return. And with some mountain waves of turbulence thrown in for good measure, it was challenging to remain on course and at altitude.

We arrived at the destination, and did some touch-and-gos. Two were on the big runway, and two on a smaller crosswind runway. The lesson was aimed at forcing me to maintain the proper glidepath (at night and without the VASI). I still come it a bit too high and with too much power, but again, I managed smooth landings. The shorter, narrower runway forces much of the sloppiness out of the approach, since if you don't have it right on, you won't have enough room.

After a few of those, we went back up for the return trip. Again, fairly uneventful, and a bit more turbulent, since we were 1000 feet lower, but manageable. The arrival at the home base was also a bit of work, since we had a pretty good crosswind. I had nearly full rudder in to compensate. As we touched down, I had to let it go and give opposite rudder as the wind went away and the controls lost effectiveness. I had a bit of a swerve, but it was still a decent landing.

Even with all that, it's only about half of the night cross-country hours that I need, so I'll hopefully have another soon. Maybe next time I'll be able to give the nearby Class C airspace a go.

As a postscript, I feel pretty good about my weather analysis, since I probably could have taken the longer trip if I had an alternate field (just in case). Simply watching the satellite pictures and observing the conditions "up stream" led me to believe that the weather was not going to be quite as bad as forecast. While I don't know what's up a few thousand feet wind-wise, I can see that the forecast overcast and rain is a total no-show. That front just wasn't going anywhere and we probably could have skirted it in both directions. But the local weather lore says that when the wind gets above a certain speed in certain places, the turbulence is terrible. That much is likely the case tonight, and while it technically would have been a reasonable VFR flight, I don't cherish bouncing around the sky like a ping-pong ball.

Over the Hills and Far Away

Today was a short cross-country flight to allow the instructor to observe how I did transitioning through the various phases of flight, navigating, communicating, and simply being organized in the cockpit.

To be fair, this was hardly my first go at these tasks, and I've done most of this from the right seat countless times. The main trick today was keeping the plane on course and flipping charts in the cramped cockpit. The DA-20 feels pretty roomy for such a small plane until you need to have something in your lap (something bulky, like a pencil). So, today, as the instructor just sat and observed, the flight was completely uneventful.

My first (logged) cross country was supposed to be last night, but 40 knot winds and moderate turbulence reported for our flight altitude caused us to scrub it. No sense getting beat up for no reason. A night flight would have been more of a challenge, but it was nice to go somewhere a bit different, and concentrate more on the cruise tasks rather than spin around in circles over the "patch".

The only real difficulty was entering a right-traffic pattern at an unfamiliar field, with a right crosswind across the runway. This meant that I would have needed to be a bit farther from the runway to account for being blown in close during my turns. I wasn't. In fact, I was a bit too close in and had to go around. I could have technically landed since the runway was 10,000 feet, but it would have taken too much room and I felt better going around and entering a left pattern. The result was a much cleaner landing. The landing back at the home base was even better. Although it was a bit fast, and didn't even trigger the stall horn, it was smooth as glass. I'm not sure if it was the best form, but it sure felt good (and no criticism from the right seat, so I guess it was OK).

Now, if the weather holds out, I will have a night cross country in about 48 hours, with a different instructor again. Looking forward to it.