Snow in Seattle

My plans to visit family in Albuquerque were set back today when my flight was canceled this morning. My roommate, who had gotten up at 5:00 am to take me to the airport, had just made it home (about a half hour drive) when I found out that I wouldn't be flying out anytime soon. On our way back, we stopped at Boeing Field to get a few rare shots of real winter weather in Seattle. It was a beautiful morning. If there hadn't been ice covering N738VJ, I probably would have gone up for a little while.

The red plane in the pictures below is N3312J, another planed owned by Alternate Air. It's a Cessna 150, a two-seat plane that's similar to the plane I fly. It's a bit cheaper to rent, but it's a small plane and I'm a big guy. I've tried sitting in it once, but the yoke rests on my knees. While I can pull back and push forward just fine, my knees prevent me from being able to turn enough to safely fly it, which is why I stick to flying the bigger Cessna 172.

360 Degree Flyover of Mt. St. Helens

I found the following three videos today showing a flyover of Mt. St. Helens. You can use your mouse cursor to "grab" the camera and drag it around to change your view.

Enjoy.

Short Film Starring N738VJ

I was going through the postings on http://www.pacificnorthwestflying.com and found a thread started by a Seattle area film student. Her project was to create a short video documenting a flight in a small plane.

The film student ended up going up in the plane I'm training in, along with a fellow student and his instructor. Below is the film that came out of the project.

Morning Flight from Maria Wardian on Vimeo.

Lesson 14 - Intro to Instrument Flight

Flight Time: 1.8 hours
Total Time: 20.7 hours

After being grounded since my first solo because of weather, I was finally able to go up again. The plan today was for an introduction to instrument flight and navigating using VOR.

We took off to the south and followed the pattern around to depart to the north out of the downwind leg. The route took us right through downtown Seattle, and I was able to get a short video and a few photos while Ed took the controls.

Seattle Flyover

Once we were out of town, Ed had me put on an instrument hood, a large gray thing that looks a little like a dog cone that's been cut in half. I placed this over my head and adjusted so that it restricted my view out the windows, but allowed me to still see the instruments.

He then directed to me to make a series of altitude and course changes, and gave instructions as we went along. The small amount of instrument training I get during my initial private pilot training is really just emergency preparation. The idea isn't to allow me to fly through clouds whenever I want, but to give me enough training to get out of them as quickly and safely as possible if I ever do end up in them. Most of what Ed was telling me was to help me fly as steadily as possible, in turns or attitude changes, while paying attention to what the instruments said rather than what my body was telling me.

This was much more difficult than I'd expected. While you're trying to fly and keep the plane moving the way you want it to based on the instruments, I was finding that my body was telling me something different. The instruments would say I was going straight, but I felt like I was turning. If I didn't watch myself, I'd tend to start turning in the other direction to correct this. The same applied for having the nose up and down - I had to really watch the instruments and try to ignore what my body said about whether I was going up or down. Trying to do the opposite of what my body was saying made me feel a little bit motion sick - the first time I've had that experience while flying. I can see why so many non-instrument rated pilots get into trouble when they fly into instrument conditions.

Since we were flying on the East side, I asked Ed what he though about a flyover near my apartment. A friend was in town and said she'd be listening for me to get a few pictures as I flew over. I took off the hood and we did a quick flyover at a thousand feet above the apartment. Ed told me he could show me an easy way to make sure that she heard us, and pulled the power back a few times. It certainly worked. 

On the second flyover, I could see my friend and Sasha (my dog) on my deck. I've see plenty of locations I know during my flight, but I've never seen someone I recognized on the ground. It was another one of those "wow, I'm really doing this" moments.

Lake Sammamish Apartment Flyover

As we flew north over Marymoor Park, Ed had me don the hood again, and we headed in a weaving pattern roughly north and east. This continued for some time, and Ed finally told me we were flying further north than I'd been so far because he wanted me to have no idea where I was. When he was satisfied that we'd gone far enough, he had me remove the hood. The site in front of me was the most amazing view I've ever seen while flying. To our north and east were tall mountains, with peaks at six or seven thousand feet (about double our altitude). Running between these mountains, to the northeast, was a valley, leading into the Cascades and towards a jagged peak. It looked like something out of a fantasy movie like Lord of the Rings. I can't believe I didn't reach for my camera, but I think the view (and Ed saying "Okay, now you have to figure out where we are") had me too stunned to think about it. I'll be sure to get a photo next time I'm out that way, but from looking at my flight track, I'm pretty sure I was looking at Gunn Peak near Highway 2.

Ed then had me dial both Seattle's and Everett's VORs, then use the directional finders to determine our location based on the direction of each station. It took me a little while, but using the rough area on the map the directional indicators told me I should be, I was able to find a few landmarks and figure out where we were. From there, Ed made it more difficult and had me find our way to Harvey Field (S43). It was more challenging than just finding our location - I'm still having a hard time finding new airports until I'm almost on top of them - but I was finally able to find it.

Harvey Field has a notation on the chart that shows that there are skydivers around the airport, and as we flew towards the field, we heard a call from a skydiving plane that was near our location. Looking out the window, I could see a plane on an intersecting course with us, but quite a bit higher. We looped around to get out of the flight path of the plane (and avoid any skydivers), and made our way into the Harvey's traffic pattern.

My pattern flying into Harvey was probably the sloppiest I've done and I ended up entering the pattern on base rather than downwind. I was really letting the wind push me around too much, rather than anticipating it's direction and correcting for it. I made moderate improvement over the next few stop-and-goes, but still wasn't very happy with how I did.

Off-Center on Final Approach Into Harvey Field

Harvey Field is a shorter and narrower runway then I've previously landed on (2671' x 36'), compared to Crest Airpark, which is 3288' x 40'. Those four feet of missing width really do make the runway feel a lot smaller. It's also got power lines right at the beginning of the runway, so you really have to watch your altitude as you come in to land.

Final into Harvey Field
(You can see the power lines - just look for the red
and white pillars on either side of the runway)

Since the field was short, we'd taxi around to the beginning of the runway each time, rather than doing touch-and-goes. This gave me a chance to practice taxiing on grass (keep your power up, the yoke back and don't stop), and a chance to check out a few pretty nice older planes. We did a total of three stop-and-goes at Harvey - one normal takeoff, one soft field and one short field - before heading back south towards Boeing Field.

On the flight back, Ed had me wear the hood once again, and we practiced more turns and altitude changes. He then gave me an introduction to unusual attitude recovery. Ed showed me two types of unusual attitudes - both in turns and one with nose high, the other with nose low - and showed me the steps for recovering, using the instruments to guage your success.

Once his demonstration was finished, he had me try one of each type of recovery. The recovery left me a little disoriented, and I had a hard time maintaining a steady altitude and course after that - the small turns and movements I'd subconsciously make if I didn't watch the instruments closely were much more pronounced after the recoveries. I logged a total of one hour of instrument flight time during this flight, and the required minimum is three to get your license, but I have a feeling I'm going to ask for a few more than that to become more comfortable with it.

We landed back at Boeing Field after 1.8 hours in the air, and my new logbook entry put me over 20 hours - half the minimum time required to get your private pilot's license. I'm sure I'll fly more than that before doing my checkride, but "halfway" is a fun milestone to him.

While I'm looking forward to getting my license, though, I'm really in no rush to get it. Even though I'm in training now, I'm still getting to fly. Once January comes, I'll be flying training flights twice a week. I have the feeling once I get my license I won't be able to fly twice weekly on a regular basis.

So at this point, it's all about the journey, and I'm enjoying training because even though I can't pick up a few friends and fly to Portland, Spokane or Northern California at a whim, I still get to fly a plane on a regular basis.

Google Earth Map of Today's Flight

First Solo - Update & Videos

I went up with Ed again today and started working on instrument flying. I'll post a full report about it later, but for now, here are the videos from my first solo flight.

First Solo Takeoff



First Solo Touch-and-Go

First Solo!

Flight Time: 1.7 Hours
Total Time: 18.9 Hours

Animated GPS Track of Today's Flight

Saturday was supposed to be my big day - my first solo. At about 10 am, I was driving to Boeing Field, hoping to get there half an hour early to get 8VJ ready before Ed arrived. Only a few miles from my house, I got a call from Ed, letting me know that someone had left the master switch on, killing the battery. Since the cowling needed to be opened to get 8VJ up and running again, that meant I wasn't flying that day. My first solo was delayed again, and it would be another two weeks before Ed, 8VJ and I would all be available for another try.

I was dissapointed, but tried to not let it get me down that much. I'm learning to fly in a rented airplaine during the winter. Delays and diversions are going to happen, so no reason to let it get me down. Anyway, I figured if I harbored too many hostile feelings towards whoever left the switch on, I'd do it myself sometime very soon (I probably will anyway at some point).

I heard back from Ed before the end of the weekend, and he let me know he was available to fly on Monday and wanted to know if I was able to get the time off of work. He'd booked 8VJ just in case. I called him immediately to let him know that yes, I would be available, and then had a hard time falling asleep because of the anticipation.

Today I woke up and anxiously watched the weather and checked the weather reports compulsively. The weather was cold, but the skies were clear and the winds calm. If it held, it would be a perfect day for my first solo.

The weather held. Once again I arrived at Boeing Field half an hour early to get the plane ready. I was nervous when I arrived. I knew I was going to solo, and I was probably more nervous that I'd ever been showing up at the airport. I've found, though, that for this reason I really enjoy the pre-flight inspection. It's tedious, yes, but there's something soothing in the process. It's almost a zen thing. You go over every part of the aircraft, step by step. You take your time and don't rush it, and in the process you get to know the plane better, and see for yourself that it's ready to fly. More importantly, the process itself helps you focus your mind on nothing but flight. Things that mattered 10 minutes ago don't matter by the time I'm done, and even the nervousness of flying a plane largely goes away because I've checked it out - and everything is right.

I know it sounds hokey, but for me at least, it's true.

Because I was nervous about soloing today, I took more time that normal and by the time I was finished, I was relaxed and ready to go.

Ed pulled in just as I finished. He also pulled up in time to catch me rubbing my head from smacking it on the wing after standing up from checking the brakes. With the wings at forehead level, I'm surprised it hasn't happened before and I'm sure it will happen again.

We took off again following the Vashon departure towards Bremerton. On the way we practiced slow flight and stalls, then a few touch-and-goes and a stop-and-go at Bremerton National. On the last landing, he had me pull off the runway. As we'd planned, Ed opened the door and started to get out of the plane.

Taking Off From Runway 13R at Boeing Field

On the Downwind Leg at Bremerton

Before getting out, he told me a short story about his first solo. His instructor, he said, had told him he needed to run to the bathroom. After getting out, he wiggled the elevator, hitting Ed with the yoke, and motioned for him to get out of there. He said his instructors intention was to avoid allowing him to worry about it ahead of time. Ed told me that he'd decided never to do that to any of his students, because soloing should be a mutual decision - something that should happen when both instructor AND student think they are ready. He also said he felt that being surprised by a solo meant he wasn't able to mentally prepare himself.

Personally, I'm glad I knew the solo was coming. I was nervous about it ahead of time - more nervous than I've ever been before a flight. But even with that as a factor, over the past few flights I've come to realize that I was ready to solo and had started to really look forward to it. Knowing that the solo was coming meant that even though I was nervous, I could put that fear into the back of my mind and do what I've already done many times already. The only difference is that this time I accelerated and gained altitude a little quicker without the weight of a second person in the plane.

After Ed got out of the plane and I started to taxi, I was balanced somewhere between nervous and ecstatic. I had butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. After making sure no one was on final approach, I announced that I was taking off ("Bremerton traffic, Cessna Eight Victor Juliet, departing runway one-nine for touch-and-goes, Bremerton"), and off I went.

Taxiing To My First Solo Takeoff

At about 300 feet, I really realized that I was alone in the airplane. This thought was not accompanied by fear or nervousness, but instead was quickly followed by an almost subconcious thought telling me, "You've done this lots of times already. It's what you've been training for these past few months. There's nothing different now than during the touch-and-go you just did."

Flying the Downwind Leg

The first touch-and-go went well, although I had some problems with following my final glide path - I came in a bit too low to start out with and had to add a little bit of power to maintain altitude. It wasn't extremely low, though, and I landed it fairly smoothly.

As I was on final for the second landing, I heard three or four people make calls that they were entering the pattern and I was worried that things were getting a bit crowded, so rather than doing a touch-and-go I pulled off the runway. Ed shrugged at me and made a circling motion with his finger pointing at the sky. I didn't need much urging, so I taxi'd back to the runway and got ready to take off again.

Second Solo Landing

This time someone made the call "Cessna something or other on long final to runway zero-one. I, and every other aircraft in the pattern, were taking off on runway one-nine, which meant we were all using the same strip, but one person was going to try to land against the flow of traffic. Before I pulled onto the runway I made a call saying "Bremerton traffic, Cessna on final approach runway zero-one, can you confirm that you said zero-one?"

The pilot responded saying that yes he was, and that was still three miles out, and would pass over the airport to move into the traffic pattern going the same direction as everyone else. Hearing that, I made my call and took off again. This time, as I flew on my downwind leg and started preparations to turn base and then into final to land again, I noticed another plane coming in. I'm not sure if it was the same plane or not, but he had entered the pattern in the opposite direction (which also means the same altitude), and was on a course that would lead him to intersect with me.

Third Solo Takeoff

Rather than worrying about who should have right of way, I made a call that I was turning a 360 out of the pattern to get out of his way and would re-enter on a 45 degree angle on my downwind leg. The pilot of the other plane acknowledged my call, realizing he was going the wrong direction, and said he would follow me in on my path.

I took a loop out of the pattern (making Ed briefly question whether I'd decided to leave him behind) before re-entering the pattern. During this time I made a call to let the other pilots know that I was on my first solo, and to be patient with me. One of them responded with a quick congratulations and to let me know that he'd slowed down to let me back into the pattern - a good thing since the pattern was getting very crowded at this point.

I landed again - this time coming a little high, which meant full flaps (40 degrees) and no power for most of my final leg. I pulled off the runway to pick up Ed, and off we went back towards Boeing Field. He asked if I wanted to practice anything else on our way back and my answer was a definate no. I'd had a lot of fun, but I was coming down from an adrenaline high and was more tired than I'd been since my first few lessons. On the flight back, I told him all about the solo (I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop talking, actually. Adrenaline and all, you know).

Third Solo Landing

The total flight was 1.7 hours, 0.4 of which was solo. My next flight, scheduled for Thursday (Thanksgiving) would be just as exciting, he told me. With this flight, Ed was there to brief and debrief me, and my solo was just a few laps around the pattern. Rather than having him there to fly with at the beginning and end, the entire flight - pre-flight to tie-down will be completely solo.

As I mentioned earlier, Ed took videos from the ground of my first solo flight. I'll post the videos to this blog as soon as I get copies from him next time we fly together on December 6.

Oral Exam Preparation

Once I have a few more hours under my belt, and Ed and I both feel that I'm ready, I have to meet with a Designated Pilot Examiner (DPE), who will decide if I really am ready. The exam is made up of two parts: an oral exam that can last up to an hour and a half (or more from what I've heard) and a practical exam. The practical exam is just a flight. You take the DPE up with you, and he has you show him all of the maneuvers that I've been learning. He makes sure that you can perform each one safely and correctly, and if you can, you pass.

With the oral exam, he asks you all sorts of questions regarding everything concerning flight - weather, cross country planning, aerodynamics, and a multitude of other subjects. I've got books on what I'll be asked, and I'm studying when I'm not flying. I wanted more than just books, though, so I did some looking around for an example of an oral exam. I came upon something much better than I expected: A video of an actual oral exam. While I've been studying the materials, it's been incredibly helpful to have an example of the real thing to watch and listen to. Be warned, though; it's an actual oral exam, which means it's about an hour and a half long.

Lesson 12 - Touch-and-Goes and One Last Solo Review Flight

Flight Time: 2 hours
Total Time: 17.2 hours

Pre-Flight Inspection

I showed up at Boeing Field early today so I could get the plane ready before Ed showed up. Today we did a brief review of everything I've learned so far, then practiced lots of touch-and-goes at Bremerton and Boeing Field. I was still uncomfortable with forward slips to a landing, and since I need to be able to do those before soloing, that's what we practiced.

Originally the plan had been for today to include my first solo flight. However, since I had to cancel yesterday's flight, that's been bumped up to next weekend. I'm dissapointed that I wasn't able to solo, but it was a great flight, and made me realize I'm 100% confident that I'm ready to solo. I'm feeling much more at ease in the plane, and I'm performing all of the maneuvers much better than I was just a few lessons ago.

While flying back from Bremerton, I got a few pictures of the Naval Base and a straight in arrival to Boeing Field over downtown Seattle.

Bremerton Naval Base

Aircraft Carriers at Bremerton

Submarines

Discovery Park

Magnolia and Ballard

The Space Needle and Lake Union

Downtown Seattle

A Float Plane Flying Over Downtown Seattle

Straight in to KBFI With Mt. Rainier in the Background

Google Earth Map of Today's Flight

Lesson 11 - Review and Pre-Solo Prep

Flight Time: 2.1 hours
Total Time: 15.2 hours

Ed told me that today was going to be about review of everything we've gone over previously in preparation for my first solo flight.

We took off on the south departure and then turned towards Vashon Island, where we were planning to turn south to go around Sea-Tac and head to Tacoma. The weather report said that we'd have more than enough ceiling, but once we got over the sound, it was clear that ceilings were only at 1500 feet - too low to stay in the pattern at Tacoma. Everything looked clear to the east (near where we flew last time), so Ed had me circle Vashon Island while he radioed Sea-Tac for permission to cross over in Class B airspace. I've posted a few images of the flyover below.

Sea-Tac International Flyover

We stayed up for over two hours - my longest flight to date. We finished the day with a few touch-and-goes at KBFI, and practiced forward slips, something I've practiced plenty of times at higher altitudes, but rarely on final approach.

Overall it was a good flight, and I'm feeling more at ease with everything we've been practicing. After the flight, Ed told me that he thought I was progressing well, and said that he thought I was ready to solo. We made plans for next weekend, and if the weather cooperates, I'll be taking my first solo flight.

Google Earth Track of Today's Flight

Lesson 10 - Getting Over Stalls and Spins

Flight Time: 1.6 hours
Total Time: 13.1 hours

I showed up about an hour early for today’s flight to give myself time to go through 738VJ’s flight manual to write down some of the more important numbers – normal climb out speed, best rate-of-climb speed, best angle of climb speed, and some of the numbers along those lines. I got through that pretty quickly, snapped a few photos and finished my pre-flight ahead of time, so by the time Ed showed up we were ready to fly.

N738VJ

We’re definitely moving into Seattle winter weather now, and we had some light gusting and broken/scattered clouds at 4,000 feet today. Since our plan was to practice stalls, spins and steep turns, we needed to find a gap in the clouds large enough to stay between 4,000 and 5,000 feet and still stay clear of clouds. We decided to head southeast, where it looked like there were some breaks in the cloud cover.

We flew out on the short runway, northbound towards Seattle, and turned 180 at 500 feet to head southeast towards Enumclaw – a town that’s about halfway between Seattle and Mt. Rainier. There we found a clearing that was about 10 or 15 miles wide – large enough for what we needed.

Prior to going up, I’d told Ed that I was feeling too uncomfortable with stalls and steep turns, so I told him that I’d like to go up and practice them repetitively until I started to feel more comfortable. As we got into the clearing, facing Mt. Rainier and the sun, we started with power off stalls.

We repeated power on and power off stalls for the next half hour or so, throwing in variations with and without flaps, as well as in left and right hand turns. At one point, I let us continue stalling longer than is normal to get a feel for the later stages of a stall.

Ed called me on leaving us in stall for too long, and I explained that even though I know the point is to recognize and get out of a stall, I just wanted to show myself that going into a stall was not the end of the world. He continued this training by showing me a continued stall. Ed took control of the rudder and ailerons, while letting me control the rudders. He then put us into a stall and had me keep us straight using the rudders while we dropped continuously for about thirty seconds. This exercise left me feeling much more comfortable with practice stalls and maneuvering because it showed me how to recover from situations that had previously scared me.

Once we recovered from the stall, we went back up to 5,000 feet, where Ed had me try a few 45 to 50 degree steep turns – which I’m getting much more confident with – and then asked me if I was ready to see a spin. I thought it for a second, and even though I was nervous, said yes. My goal this flight was to face all of the maneuvers that had previously made me nervous, and a spins just plain scared me.

Ed took the controls and put us into a power-on stall configuration. As we stalled, instead of shuddering and dropping the nose slightly, we dropped quickly off to the right and then straight down into a spin. When we started dropping, I felt fear, and once we were in a downward spiral, I had just enough time to look at the ground in front of me, say a quick exclamation and think, “That’s the ground in front of me,” before Ed had us straightened out. I’ve seen plenty of movies where a pilot experiences g-forces and I’ve even experienced it a little on rides at Six Flags, but none of them prepared me for the real thing. I felt like I weighed a couple of thousand pounds as I was pushed into my seat when we pulled up – and that is just a fraction of what someone flying high-g’s in fighter plane feels.

We did two spins after that – one in each direction – and on the last one I thought to pull out my camera and take a few pictures.

Entering the Spin

In the Spin

Stopping the Spin

Pulling Out

I ended all three dives and spins laughing and found that the fear I had felt at the beginning of the first quickly becoming exhilaration and pure enjoyment. Ed told me that there’s a few ways people react to their first spins – they freeze, scream, or have fun. I fell into the third category, even if I was shaking a little from the adrenaline when we pulled back into level flight.

From there, we flew back to the northeast towards Boeing, where Ed had me find Crest Field (a small airport south of Renton) using his aeronautical chart and landmarks. After some searching, we found Crest, and he had me line up to get into the pattern about a thousand feet too high. He then pulled the throttle to idle, and had me glide down, simulating an emergency landing. The breeze blowing over the treetops by the airport was higher than I expected, and I ended up having to do a go-around. The runway was much narrower than any runway I’ve landed on previously, but I put the plane down on the centerline the next time I landed. We pulled the plane off onto the taxiway, and taxi’d back around to the beginning of the runway, and watched another Cessna (a taildragger) land a perfect landing in front of us.

After that, we did a soft-field landing (my best yet) and we were on our way back to Boeing Field, where we did a few uneventful touch-and-goes before calling it a day.

Renton Airport

Sea-Tac Airport

Straight in to Boeing Field I

Straight in to Boeing Field II

Straight in to Boeing Field III

Straight in to Boeing Field IV

Waiting for Traffic at A3

Waiting for one of Galvin Flight School's Diamond DA-20s at A3

This was my best flight so far. I'm feeling much more confident in control of the plane and I gained a lot of confidence in areas that had previously intimidated me. I can’t wait to go up again.

Google Earth Map of Today's Flight