Returning To Flight...Temporarily

Though I suspect that future flying will experience similar gaps as has been the case recently, it still felt good to get back up there today.

The "biennial flight review" (a bit of a misnomer according to the FAA) is the two-year checkup for a pilot certificate. They require at least an hour of ground review and an hour of flight to ensure that the pilot is up on the regulations and remains safe in the aircraft. Today was my day.

I could have done this with any instructor in any plane at any airport. Specifically, I could have done it at the local field here in a cheaper Cessna 172 with an instructor that I have only flown with one time. Or, I could make the road trip back to my original training field, fly the very familiar (and more expensive) DA-20, and see my original instructor again. I chose the latter, and I'm glad I did.

I had spent the week doing some light reading of the FAR's, the various handbooks, and the operating manual for the Diamond. I felt pretty confident of the book learning, but have been quite nervous about the time off taking its toll on my flying skills. The recent past in the 172's just hasn't reinforced that I can stay 100% ahead of the plane. With the low number of hours I've had in them, I just didn't feel that my flying was as smooth as it could have been. This, combined with the fact that I haven't been as comfortable with the instructors here, led me to spend the extra money to get some better quality review and build my confidence in the air.

And it worked out beautifully.

It has been about a year since I flew the Diamond, and nearly 18 months since I flew with my old instructor. We spent the ground time going over some real-life scenarios related to the type of flying that I've been doing and will likely do in the future. Regulations, dealing with different aircraft, flight planning, and so forth. Like in the oral exam during the checkride, it's not necessary to know everything by memory, as long as you know where to find the information.

But then we got to the flying. During the pre-flight, it all started to come back to me. I had my old checklist, and was in the same plane that I flew on my second lesson way back in July 2007. We've both accumulated a lot of hours since then. We strapped in and were ready to go.

The instructor pointed out a few updated things on the field (the controllers now have radar scopes in the tower - the better to see you with...) and in the procedures. Everything was going so smoothly. There was little wind on the surface, and the cool air made for a nice climbout.

We got to the maneuvers, and started with what was my nemesis prior to the checkride - steep turns. Sure enough, I blew the first one (let the nose get too high) and couldn't get it back in line. But the second try was dead-on - both to the left and the right. My headings were on, I gained less than 100 feet, and kept the angle of back right at 45 degrees, pulling 1.2 G's.

We moved to slow flight, power-off stalls, power-on stalls, turning stalls, and "steep" stalls. I don't know what else to call the last ones...they're not part of the regular test maneuvers, but the instructor had me do some slow banks over to 45 degrees while letting the plane slow to stall speed. I don't know that I'd want to do one of these in a Cessna, as they are more prone to spin, but it works just fine in the Diamond...and is good practice.

Then we did a bit of hood work. Typical things like turning to headings and a descending turn. But then the instructor pulled a sneaky one. He had me look down and close my eyes while still flying the plane. This was a demonstration of spatial disorientation (the danger of flying into the clouds without proper training). Let me tell you, this is a very uncomfortable feeling. I knew that he wouldn't let us get into a dangerous situation, but there is absolutely nothing nice about hearing the engine wind up (so you know you are descending), but not knowing how to correct for it, since you don't know which way is up, how fast you are turning (if at all), or where you are.

He kept this up for nearly a minute (it seemed like a very long time...) and then had me open my eyes. Holy cow! We were in a steep, descending spiral - exactly the situation that kills many pilots who become disoriented in the clouds and don't trust their instruments. Your inner ear tells you that everything is hunky-dory, meanwhile, the speed is increasing to the point that the plane could break up in flight. Without arresting this condition, it's merely a matter of what kills you first - an in-flight disintegration, or high speed impact with the ground. Scary stuff, but a very powerful lesson.

And lest you think that this could only happen to a low-time pilot or student, my instructor (a part-time charter pilot) also ended up in the same condition during a checkout flight with his examiner (as part of a similar demonstration). Experience doesn't trump our biological shortcomings.

The last order of business was some touch-and-go's. There isn't much to say here other than these were perhaps the best landings I've ever made - ever, ever. The approaches were probably a bit high and fast, but extremely stable and well controlled. One of them required a forward slip to lose some extra altitude, but the touchdowns were glass-smooth. I could have even pulled off a good crosswind landing if I had to.

I had a great time revisiting old friends (of the human and aircraft varieties). It was definitely a confidence-booster to be in familiar territory and be able to really show my stuff.

Turbulence

No, not that kind.

The kind of turbulence that affects the course of one's life. Job changes, personal endeavors, and other stressful circumstances.

As in flying, negotiating this sort of turbulence means not fighting the ups and downs. Just maintain control and a level attitude.

In my case, it means doing what I can for CAP, though that experience may come to an end as quickly as it began. It also means dealing with my now-overdue flight review, which means I'm not even current to fly as a PIC.

But it also means finding a balance between being exactly where you want to be at a given moment and being on a long-term course that will deliver you where you want to be at the end of your journey.

Flying is at the junction - the fulcrum if you will - of these two opposing forces. Starting very soon, my work will take me to Canada for a long-term project. Will I get to fly in a foreign country? Not if I don't get my review done. Will it matter? Well, probably not in the long run. But just to know that I could if I wanted to and if the opportunity presented itself, it's worth it to get the review done before I go.

And CAP?

That's a more difficult question. I've enjoyed teaching the cadets - even for such a short time. I've also enjoyed being a part of the exercises and the overall experience. But, it is ultimately a volunteer organization. I feel bad that with the local squadron (indeed, the entire wing) being so small, they will have difficulty keeping things going. But they, like any other similar group, must deal with the real-life concerns of work and family.

I will see if it will be possible to continue contributing, but it will definitely not be easy. If I were in the states, I at least could hook up with another squadron temporarily, but not up in Canada. And it's just too far away to make short trips back down south just for CAP.

So next week I'll be doing my flight review with my original instructor, and back in the DA-20. I'm looking forward to getting back up in the air as a pilot rather than as a passenger. But with so many months away, I have some studying to do. On the plus side, it will be yet another new experience along the path. And it does appear that I am headed in the right direction, bumps or not.