Weekly Checkup

This weekly flight schedule is getting pretty old. I wish I could be back up to twice a week, but I think I'm not likely to see that for a while. The weather is just too spotty (as if it was winter or something). Nevertheless, the clouds parted just long enough to get a good flight in today. I was prepared to solo and practice my maneuvers for an hour or so, but was able to snag an instructor to go up with me to get more prepared for the checkride.

Today was calm on the surface, with a moderate wind aloft and about 7 to 8000 feet to the ceiling. It was a balmy 25 degrees, with only a few degrees to the dew point, but the air was fairly dry and the only symptoms of poor weather were some scattered snow showers to the north.

It was really just a grab-bag of maneuvers today, and I had never flown with this particular instructor before. We did a soft-field takeoff and turned away from the field, then I donned the hood for some brief climbs and turns to headings. That went smoothly enough, and compared to my typical half-hour practice sessions, the 15 or so minutes went by pretty quickly.

Then we did our clearing turns and set up for some steep turns. I almost told the instructor that this was one of my weak points, but figured I'd better just get on with it and not give voice to what really isn't all that bad. Indeed, I heeded my instructor's advice from last time to enter the turn very smoothly. You don't need to snap the wings over to 45 degrees, just get there about the time you've turned nearly 90 degrees from the original heading. So, with that, the first turn to the left came out very well. The turn to the right ballooned a bit, but I kept it under control and didn't bust the 100-foot deviation limit.

Then we slowed down for some minimum-controllable airspeed exercises. About the biggest problem I have with these is getting the speed down in a reasonable amount of time. Rather than setting power where you want it, you really need to reduce it even more and then add a bit as the speed decays. The DA-20 is just too slippery to do it in a timely manner any other way. Unfortunately, I still don't have all the pitch/power/airspeed combinations memorized, so I just target the speed that I want and fiddle with the power until the vertical speed is stabilized. This works pretty well, since there's only a range of a few hundred RPM between different configurations, so I can get close on the first try.

We kept up with the slow flight and added power-off stalls. I did these well, but the instructor pointed out a little flaw (and one that I have never been taught). My typical profile is to reduce power, drop flaps, drop more flaps, and then add a bit of power to maintain altitude. I've been instructed to keep the altitude pegged from the start of the maneuver until the stall. Supposedly, this is not what the examiner wants. (I don't know if this is universal, or some kind of personal preference on the part of the individual examiners.) What he wants is for the plane to be in a descent more like a typical landing profile, then pull back and induce the stall. It's a fairly trivial difference, but it's good to know that might be expected. At least I will know enough to ask during the checkride.

After the slow stuff, we went back to fast, for some power-on stalls. I was a bit over-enthusiastic about these apparently, and forgot to configure for takeoff (as the exercise is supposed to mimic a stall during departure). I went ahead and pushed the throttle in, and we rocketed up 1000 feet, as I realized what I had done. I almost got it to stall, but it was better to level it out and try again. Done properly, it worked out just right.

The added altitude generated by my little space-flight imitation was a nice setup for my next trick - a simulated engine failure, complete with an actual touchdown at the nearby uncontrolled field. This was to be my second engine-out landing, and this one was different in that I was just over 4000 feet above the ground, and about 4 miles from the field (which I could not see from the left seat at the time of the "failure"). So I went through the necessary steps of catching the best glide speed and going through the engine-failure flow check, and had plenty of time to look around. I realized then where we were, confirmed by the GPS, and made a turn toward the field. But now, I had a different problem, needing to rocket back down to earth. I have never done a spiral, and didn't know if it was appropriate, but the instructor just let me do what I felt would work, and he just sat back.

Since I had so much altitude to lose and I had a lot of other options if there really were an emergency, I decided to drop the nose and try to set up for a fairly normal descent. The actual distance from the failure to touchdown was about 9.5 miles. So, even at 1.5 times the optimum glide speed, the gradient was still nearly the optimum 11:1 given in the book. It was quite a challenge to time everything out right, and I came in a bit too fast, with only half flaps. Had it been an actual emergency, I would have dropped the flaps all the way as I was on short final (but technically a bit too fast for them). The instructor thought it would have been a good landing anyway, and I still had quite a bit of runway left, so I guess it all worked out. I even kept up the non-tower radio calls, which I probably would have left out in the real thing.

Finally, it was back to the home base to practice some more soft- and short-field landings. We had to do a 360 for spacing, but all went well, and my landings were good today. I had a bit of a bounce and float on one of them, but at least held the nose up and didn't porpoise. Hey, if even the big guys do it every once in a while, I can't be too hard on myself.

Our go-arounds don't take too long, and I did four of them. While we were doing that, there were quite a few other planes around, and there was a Horizon Air flight holding at the runway the whole time. We offered to extend our pattern so that he could get out, but the other planes coming in made it irrelevant. I knew that it wasn't our fault, but I couldn't help imagining the passengers seeing the same plane land four times while they just sat there burning fuel. Score one for the airlines blaming delays on the little guys.

Aviate - Navigate - Communicate

When I checked yesterday, the forecast for today was for cloudy and a 20% chance of snow. Ha! Don't believe it! Woke up this morning to clear, sunny skies, calm winds (on the surface anyway), and a chance to get my remaining cross-country hours in. I hesitated to call my instructor, since it was Sunday, but figured that since I wasn't asking him to go with me, maybe he wouldn't mind. It was, of course, not a problem, but we had to keep our eyes on the wind forecasts.

The winds aloft were 270 at 24, and the winds at the best-looking destination were 220 at 25, with gusts to 30. So, the main concern was turbulence from the winds and mountain waves, and the conditions at my destination, which could be too much for my solo skills. We decided to give it a go, since the winds everywhere else on the surface were calm, and I could always divert if need be. Yesterday's flying had similar winds aloft, so I knew it would be bumpy, but was also willing to take a bit of a beating (it's not like the air's ever totally smooth anyway).

So, I did a quick flight plan, did all the math for wind corrections and ground speed (using FlightPrep software, this isn't much), and got all set to go. Once I was at the airport, I took things a bit slower, to make sure I had everything in order, got the weather briefing, (with the turbulence Airmet), and did the preflight. T.I. signed off the logbook, and I was ready to go.

Today's flight involved three Class D airports, and one TRSA (Terminal Radar Service Area). Basically, this is an area of more involved radar coverage, although the basic rules for entering and communication are the same as any Class D airspace. The additional steps involved calling up approach, setting a discrete transponder code, and then entering the pattern as normal. I switched frequencies to close my flight plan before I had to contact the tower, came back to approach, and then was quickly handed off.

But before I got to that point, I needed to navigate my way over some mountains and into some pretty significant turbulence. It wasn't bad, like rough, but it was like being on a rolling sea, and there were a couple of big up- and down-drafts that sent the altimeter spinning for a few seconds. The trip out was actually better than I expected based on the wind speeds that were out there. Likely, it was due to my flying more-or-less "downstream" and riding the currents.

As I arrived at the destination field, the winds were still up, but I decided to give it a shot. The end of the runway sits on a bluff, though, and the wind currents ended up being a bit too much. My references were all off, since I had never been to this field before, and the slow speed due to the wind really threw off my timing. I touched down a bit too hard, bounced, and touched again. That was quite enough, thank you very much, and off I went. I declared my intention to turn off to the south to my next stop, but was given vectors to stay clear of a departing plane behind me (going much faster). I kept an eye on him, and when he was ahead, I was cleared to proceed on course.

The next leg was the roughest, as it was nearly straight into the wind. In fact, as I approached a mountain ridge, I decided that I didn't really want to fight it, and diverted around it. That helped a bit, but I was getting further and further off my intended course. I also got a little taste of getting lost, as I miscounted the ridges and thought I was closer than I was for a few minutes. Then I saw the GPS distance and realized I still had a way to go. It was a good exercise, though, as I had to put together the landmarks I was seeing, evaluate how much off course I would be, ensure I had enough fuel if I was going way off (plenty of gas today), and consider an alternate field if the wind just simply was too much. The GPS finally indicated about 30 knots of wind as I puttered along at only about 80 knots of groundspeed. It took forever to get around those mountains, but the light at the end of the tunnel was the ATIS that said "wind calm". If I could just get over the waves, it would get better.

I called the tower, gave a position report at about 15 miles, and was instructed to report 5 miles out. There were a few other planes around, so the controller was trying to get us all spaced right. The wind was so much as I was descending, that I was about 8 miles out when he called back to check on me. I said that I was getting there, but the wind was really socking it to me. He understood, and got a couple of the other guys in while I bobbed and weaved. Of course, as I got to the surface, the ATIS didn't lie, and I made a perfect landing. Again, I reported my intentions to depart the area back the way I came (this time with the wind) and away I went.

The last leg was mainly an effort to keep the plane on course, as the winds were much more variable -- in every direction. I would find myself drifting left and right, up and down....I'm really not this bad, am I?

I was watching the clock, but not obsessively, and I knew that the flight would be just about right for the hours that I needed, but I guess I should have paid more attention. I thought I'd throw in a touch-and-go just for good measure as I arrived back at the home base. Good thing I did. When I recorded the Hobbs meter, I found that I had exactly the time that I needed -- no more, no less.

The main lesson for today: the mountains shown on the charts don't look anything like they do in real life. You can pick out prominent peaks, especially if they have towers, but even coming back over the same ground I did on the outbound trip, everything looked different. Which road is that? Where are those powerlines? Which ridge is that? Did I pass that peak already?

But all went well, and I now have all my required hours logged. Another couple of flights with the instructor, and I'll be all set.

Tying a Knot

Today was another flight that just barely fit through a hole in the weather. The primary purpose was to finish off my hood work, but I really wanted to brush up on the steep turns. My instructor said again that they are quite difficult in the DA-20 due to its tendency to oscillate up and down if you don't enter the turn just right and with the nose at just the right attitude.

That's all nice in theory, but it's beginning to really turn into a struggle. I do all right, but it's hard to keep the bank angle, nose pitch, and power just right so as not to wallow all over the sky. I suppose that's the whole point of the exercise...

So after some re-do of unusual attitudes, VOR navigation, and constant rate climbs and descents under the hood, we did a whole mess of steep turns, which truly must have looked from the ground like a literal aerobatic show. Nevertheless, by the end, I had a better feel for them, and with a few more tries, it shouldn't be a problem. At least I know what to focus on....

Then we did some pattern work, with some soft- and short-field landings. Since I had asked about power-off landings a while back, we decided to try one today...just like the commercial maneuver. We went to idle just abeam of the numbers, and I turned in just a bit closer than I usually do. I haven't practiced any of this, so I had to kind of guess at when to deploy the flaps. We were aiming for the 1000-foot mark on the runway. T.I. gave it just a touch of throttle as we were about 200 feet above the ground on final, but overall, I made a decent landing (and spot on at the mark). And that was even with a bit of float. Of course...there was no surface wind today, so I still wouldn't want to try a real-world version of this quite yet....but it was good to see that I could probably pull it off in an emergency...and it was also good to try something a bit different than the regular stuff.

With the hood work hurdle out of the way, I just need the weather to hold off long enough to get another long cross-country done. But so much for having it all done by the end of the year. My instructor wants to do at least one mock checkride (and maybe two) before the real thing, and unless the holidays and the weather somehow align between now and then, it probably won't quite get done. The only way to do it would be to be ready to fly on a moment's notice if the weather clears up. But then there's that job thing....

Not So Fast

A few weeks ago, my instructor said that things would happen quite fast as I neared the end of my flight training. The reason for this is that the cross-country trips tend to pile the hours on much faster than the 90-minute lessons that are more common in the beginning. While this is true in theory, and makes logical sense, the weather becomes a significant factor this time of year.

So, while I probably could have had my certificate by now if I'd started a month earlier, I struggle to find a decent sized hole in the weather and the work schedule -- big enough for another cross-country and a block of time for a checkride. So, when the sun broke through earlier this week, it was a target of opportunity. I took a long lunch and went up for a quick flight to tighten up my maneuvers.

It was a short trip, only 0.9 hours, but enough to keep things fresh. I focused on sticking right at my target altitude through some ground reference and steep turns, and then came back for a couple of touch-and-gos. I wanted to keep my transitions nice and crisp, with smooth turns, climbs, and descents. Overall, it went well, but my steep turns still need work. Well, it's always something.

Just a Test

Definitely no graphical portion to go along with this post. Simply another hurdle passed as I took my knowledge (written) test yesterday.

Of all the required tasks for the pilot's certificate, the written test should be, by far, the easiest. Since all of the questions are public, there shouldn't be any surprises, right? Well, even with the Sporty's practice tests there are still too many questions to be able to see them all. So, of course, there were a few I hadn't seen before.

Most of my strikes were on airspace and even one classified under instrument procedures (I don't know how that one sneaked in). But in the end, I got an 87, so I passed, and I can work on the deficiencies before my checkride.

The weather simply has not cooperated lately, and another week has gone by...soon, very soon....

Bad Attitudes

Today was to be another "wild card" with much of the lesson dependent on what the weather did. As it turned out, the forecast was pretty much on, but the predicted snow appeared to be moving in just a bit faster than expected. And since my recent flying schedule has been on the ragged edge of the weather (finding a narrow window of good weather here and there), a little bit makes a big difference. So what was to be a couple of hours in the sky had to be cut short. But that really wasn't a big deal; it just means I need one more flight to finish off the hood work.

Overall, I'm rapidly approaching the checkride, and due to my expressed interest in an instrument rating, we did a bit of hood work that went beyond the standard PTS topics. We did some more slow flight and stalls, VOR tracking, and miscellaneous multi-tasking, but we also did some timed turns (using rule-of-thumb true airspeed calculations) and did some more aggressive unusual attitude recoveries.

It was this latter exercise that nearly turned my stomach. We have typically done maneuvers that were also found in other exercises: power-on stalls, turning stalls, and the random ups, downs, and power settings that can be found in inadvertent flight into clouds. This time (without my prior knowledge), the instructor took us to the edge of aerobatic flight, with near-60 degree banks and near 25-degree pitch up and down. Still well within the limits of the plane, I could definitely tell we were pulling more G's, but as the books all say, you can't trust your inner ear. He would jink one way, then enter a full bank the other way, adjust the power in the middle. By the time I would look up, we weren't how I felt we would be, and the attitude indicator was in a place I haven't seen before.
Even with all that, it was a fun flight, and I was able to handle the recoveries with only one glaring error: I would forget to put my feet back on the rudder pedals on a couple (I'm sure it had something to do with my concentration on not getting sick....) Although I was too busy to notice, T.I. said that we had some light negative-G moments at the top of one of these, too.

At the end, we did a couple more VFR steep turns, which I did much better than last time. I asked whether the checkride would include steep turns under the hood. The answer was that technically, it could, but no one had heard of any instances where this had occurred. So as long as I can keep things upright with the visual horizon, I should be all right.

My last required hours are another half-hour of hood time and another 2.5 hours or so of solo cross country. I will see if I can get the written test done next week as well... Not too much longer...