Ted
The pilot formerly known as Twin Engine Ted
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2007
- Messages
- 29,923
- Display Name
Display name:
iFlyNothing
Today was a beautiful day out. One of those truly CAVU days, clear and a million visibility. So, in thinking about what to do with my day, I called up a friend of mine in Rhode Island and asked if she wanted to go flying. With a destination and a purpose, I went to the airport, preflighted the Archer, hopped in, and took off. I'm always looking for reasons to build my hours at this point, and today was too beautiful of a day to stay on the ground.
The flight out there was good, a bit bumpy at 5500, but otherwise uneventful. Flight following handed me off through, alerted me to a number of other planes that were traffic. On days like today, especially, this is why I always do flight following. Having a guardian angel out there to tell me where to look for others, and point me out of harm's way, is invaluable.
I arrived at KSFZ and my friend hopped in the plane with me. This flight was special, as it was her first time in an airplane - period. Not even in a commercial sardine can. After giving her a basic explantion of what she needed to do and what was going on, we started up and taxied to the runway. Thinking about the threads we've had on first flights for people, I explained things well, but not too much, and watched what I said carefully. We did a position and hold, and I asked "Ready?" got a slightly nervous, but excited, "Yes" and then off we went. This friend of mine drag races, and her sled runs 11s in the 1/4 mile. So, I explained that takeoff is just like a drag race (in the Archer a very, very slow drag race), except when you hit the end, you pull back on the yoke and something interesting happens, rather than slamming on the brakes.
Airspeed alive, engine gauges good, nose up, a silky smooth departure from the ground (I was particularly proud of that takeoff) and away we went. Climbed up and then departed the area. I explained to my friend what my radio calls were, and what I was saying. The Providence, RI area is busy enough that it's good to be on the radio, and we passed through the Class C there. I emphasized that this is really just English, plus a few extra words. We're all just humans being polite and talking to eachother, explaining what we're doing.
We flew down to KUUU on the water (about a 20 mile flight), and the flight provided a beautiful view of Providence and the water in the area. Many boats were out on the water. With the visibility, Block Island was visible from the coast, which I pointed out to my friend. I didn't need to do much talking, though, her eyes were fixated out the window, looking at this part of the world that she had spent her whole life in, but not once seen other than from the ground. She talked about how much different everything looked from the air, and how cool it was to get to see things from this perspective.
We went back to KSFZ, entered the pattern, and landed smoothly (I was proud of the landing, too). Thankfully there were no crosswinds, so I didn't have to explain the crab angle (that seems to make a lot of first timers nervous). She had a big smile on her face and said how cool it was to go up flying, and it was definitely a lot of fun.
I take leaving the ground for granted. As far back as I can remember, flying in commercial planes has been a fact of life. Making the transition to small planes wasn't too hard because of this. In this case, though, I managed to give someone her first experience in flight, and it was enjoyable enough that she wanted to go up flying again.
I got back in the plane and headed back to Williamsport, this time up at 8500. Up there, it was silky smooth, and I got handed off to fewer centers than I did on the way out at 5500. Not sure if that was my altitude or what, but it was nice. Less traffic up at that altitude, too.
Over Wilkes-Barre while I was with Wilkes-Barre approach/departure, I heard a truly wonderful exchange over the radio. A Comanche called center saying that his gear went down and appeared to be down, but he was not getting the three green lights to indicate it was down and locked. To me, that has to be one of the moments where you rethink having purchased a complex aircraft. However what unfolded was what seemed like the entire sky being concerned for the safety and well-being of this pilot and his airplane, and wondering what was going to happen. The pilot wanted to do a fly-by over the Wilkes-Barre airport and see if someone on the ground could spot to make sure the gear was down and appeared to be locked, which was granted. Then, other pilots flying through the airspace chimed in with suggestions of things to check. Three or four suggestions later, the problem was solved, and the lights came on. I believe it was a rheostat. I can't imagine the weight off that pilot's shoulders when those three green lights came on.
A lot of times it's easy to be up in the sky and feel alone. This was the first time I'd heard a live potential emergency occurring over the radio. It was also a time that showed two things to me. First, always be on flight following! You want someone there when you have a problem! Second, you are NOT alone in the sky. That's a good thing.
This has been a high-hour weekend for me, and tomorrow is some more flying. After today I've just rounded 90 hours total time. I'll probably pass 100 hours before Gastons, if not before then on the trip down.
The flight out there was good, a bit bumpy at 5500, but otherwise uneventful. Flight following handed me off through, alerted me to a number of other planes that were traffic. On days like today, especially, this is why I always do flight following. Having a guardian angel out there to tell me where to look for others, and point me out of harm's way, is invaluable.
I arrived at KSFZ and my friend hopped in the plane with me. This flight was special, as it was her first time in an airplane - period. Not even in a commercial sardine can. After giving her a basic explantion of what she needed to do and what was going on, we started up and taxied to the runway. Thinking about the threads we've had on first flights for people, I explained things well, but not too much, and watched what I said carefully. We did a position and hold, and I asked "Ready?" got a slightly nervous, but excited, "Yes" and then off we went. This friend of mine drag races, and her sled runs 11s in the 1/4 mile. So, I explained that takeoff is just like a drag race (in the Archer a very, very slow drag race), except when you hit the end, you pull back on the yoke and something interesting happens, rather than slamming on the brakes.
Airspeed alive, engine gauges good, nose up, a silky smooth departure from the ground (I was particularly proud of that takeoff) and away we went. Climbed up and then departed the area. I explained to my friend what my radio calls were, and what I was saying. The Providence, RI area is busy enough that it's good to be on the radio, and we passed through the Class C there. I emphasized that this is really just English, plus a few extra words. We're all just humans being polite and talking to eachother, explaining what we're doing.
We flew down to KUUU on the water (about a 20 mile flight), and the flight provided a beautiful view of Providence and the water in the area. Many boats were out on the water. With the visibility, Block Island was visible from the coast, which I pointed out to my friend. I didn't need to do much talking, though, her eyes were fixated out the window, looking at this part of the world that she had spent her whole life in, but not once seen other than from the ground. She talked about how much different everything looked from the air, and how cool it was to get to see things from this perspective.
We went back to KSFZ, entered the pattern, and landed smoothly (I was proud of the landing, too). Thankfully there were no crosswinds, so I didn't have to explain the crab angle (that seems to make a lot of first timers nervous). She had a big smile on her face and said how cool it was to go up flying, and it was definitely a lot of fun.
I take leaving the ground for granted. As far back as I can remember, flying in commercial planes has been a fact of life. Making the transition to small planes wasn't too hard because of this. In this case, though, I managed to give someone her first experience in flight, and it was enjoyable enough that she wanted to go up flying again.
I got back in the plane and headed back to Williamsport, this time up at 8500. Up there, it was silky smooth, and I got handed off to fewer centers than I did on the way out at 5500. Not sure if that was my altitude or what, but it was nice. Less traffic up at that altitude, too.
Over Wilkes-Barre while I was with Wilkes-Barre approach/departure, I heard a truly wonderful exchange over the radio. A Comanche called center saying that his gear went down and appeared to be down, but he was not getting the three green lights to indicate it was down and locked. To me, that has to be one of the moments where you rethink having purchased a complex aircraft. However what unfolded was what seemed like the entire sky being concerned for the safety and well-being of this pilot and his airplane, and wondering what was going to happen. The pilot wanted to do a fly-by over the Wilkes-Barre airport and see if someone on the ground could spot to make sure the gear was down and appeared to be locked, which was granted. Then, other pilots flying through the airspace chimed in with suggestions of things to check. Three or four suggestions later, the problem was solved, and the lights came on. I believe it was a rheostat. I can't imagine the weight off that pilot's shoulders when those three green lights came on.
A lot of times it's easy to be up in the sky and feel alone. This was the first time I'd heard a live potential emergency occurring over the radio. It was also a time that showed two things to me. First, always be on flight following! You want someone there when you have a problem! Second, you are NOT alone in the sky. That's a good thing.
This has been a high-hour weekend for me, and tomorrow is some more flying. After today I've just rounded 90 hours total time. I'll probably pass 100 hours before Gastons, if not before then on the trip down.
