K
KennyFlys
Guest
A couple folks in another threat, eh thread, wanted to know about my event many, many decades ago... when I was a younger grasshopper.
So, here it is...
I originally earned my ticket while I was a Navy avionics tech at NAS Cecil Field in Jacksonville, FL. I worked nights and took lessons during the day over at Navy Jax. In eight months, I had my ticket and was burning avgas all I could. Our 150 then was only $18/hr and the Skyhawk only $22. Even instructors were a whopping $12/hr. The expensive, high performance, retractables and twins were left to the rich guys who could afford $50 an hour.
I got out, flew some while in school but then I did something stupid. I got married. A year goes by then we move to Colorado. A year after that I got involved with the flying club in Greeley. I was having a ball. My marriage sucked and we argued a lot but while some guys went to the bar, I went flying at night. I loved the night sky.
In August 1986, I was taking my wife and daughter from Greeley to Aberdeen, SD. We stopped for fuel in Rapid City (RAP) where the executive terminal had furniture I could only dream of owning at that time. Pierre Flight Service said there was a line in North Dakota moving south slowly. The briefer said it was a safe risk with its speed but I'd be better off on the ground while it passed. I knew well weather can change so I was content in staying. With that lounge? Oh yeah.
My wife, however, saw things differently. She wanted to get to Aberdeen to see her friend. But, I was "Pilot in Command" and I was in charge of the flight. Or, I should have been. I was a wimp and gave in. We loaded and left... that beautiful lounge behind.
An hour later, that line to the north was already south. I was in clouds and light rain. Did I mention I was not instrument rated? Nor had I had very much time under the hood by that time.
I was disoriented, not trusting my instruments and the seat of my pants was king. I would look at the AI and see I was at a 60° bank and had not realized it. Fortunately, little N25525 held up well to my abuse. I was convinced the DG was precessing drastically so I didn't trust it. I called Minneapolis Center (ZMP) who got online with Pierre Flight Service and got a fix on my radio signal. I was too low for radar.
ZMP spoke with airliners and other aircraft but none had the ground in site to point me to a hole. So, I was slowly vectored to a small airport in Phillip, SD (PHP). ZMP set me up for approach and I was out of the clouds with positive control and the airport in site, or at least the beacon. I should add… during this time the runway lights were out for maintenance.
I landed by the lights of the airport manager's pickup, his wife's van and a sheriff's deputy patrol car headlamps pointing along three places down the runway. The manager left us with access to his "lounge" for the night while he went home. We slept on a couch from circa-1930. The spring was in great shape; it just had nothing covering it. Remember what we left behind in RAP?
The next morning, another pilot let us use his car to go get breakfast at a cafe I swear was later used in the movie, "My Cousin Vinny." By about 10AM, clouds had finally lifted and I had 3000 feet or so. Oddly, I had a higher ceiling back toward Colorado. We went on to Aberdeen at an uneventful 2500 feet. The next day, I went up for an hour to convince myself the DG was fine and get back a bit of confidence.
Two days later we took off again, heading back to Greeley. The flight was mild and nearly boring. But, I was a lot safer than two nights earlier. Upon my return, I met one of the owners of the club, himself returning from a weekend trip. I informed him of the events to which he responded with, "Don't be surprised if you don't get a letter."
He called me just two days later saying I needed to get a ride with one of the club's CFI’s before I go up again. He had already been called by Chicago FSDO to find out what idiot was flying the plane registered to his name. A month after that, I got the letter. I had to take a "609 Review" before I could exercise privileges of my airman certificate again.
Between the time of the flight and getting that letter, I left my wife, changed jobs and moved to Denver. There were slight changes in my life. I never took the ride and a year after that I got a letter stating I was in suspension and the FAA was going to seek money penalties if I did not surrender my certificate. The penalty was $300 per day if I recall correctly. I got lucky. The FSDO attorney transferred to another agency and never forwarded the case to the US attorney's office. Nineteen years at $300 a day... ouch! Nope, I never surrendered my certificate.
Roll forward nineteen years to June 2005. I'm living in Georgia and money is much better. I started taking lessons while getting clarification from FSDO on what I needed to accomplish. After completing the Cessna Private Pilot course at home and some 22 hours in the air, I took the 709 Review in September.
With flaky weather I couldn't get a good day to fly down to FultonCounty. I couldn't fly on my own since I was in suspension so an instructor was necessary (There’s no provision to solo someone preparing for a 709 while under suspension). I was also battling for examiner time along with a lot of CFI candidates. I was scheduled for a month but was canceled due to weather. Dan, the FAA examiner, was happy to hear me say "cancel" when he called at 6AM on the day of the scheduled flight. The next day he calls me and says he now has Friday open. "I'll take it!" But, I couldn't get an available instructor. The guys at the school were still great. They just said, "We'll make a plane available for you if you can get him here." Dan got a waiver to come my way rather than meet at his airport.
We spent about three hours at the table in oral followed by 2.5 hours in the air and another hour back at the table. All through the flight, I kept wavering, wondering.... "Ok, I blew it." to "This is looking pretty good." Just when I was relaxed headed back home, he would throw a maneuver at me from steep turns to emergency landing to stalls. Not just once, but several times, inter-mingled when you didn't know they would come. On landing back at Gainesville, he pulls power on me just prior to base. At the same time, a Beech slides in without notice, no comm. We do an extended downwind and I make a normal landing. Second time, we do power off. It's not perfect but I make it. He tells me I did it because I was committed. I had no power to concern myself with so just fly the plane. The last time, he took away my flaps. I was high, fast and landed a ways down. But, it was a safe landing. I wasn't convinced as he tells me to go ahead and taxi in. I'm thinking I failed. As I cross the hold line he tells me, "Congratulations, you're a private pilot again." As I clean up the plane, he tells me to relax; he'd take the plane since I know how to taxi. Relief and libations were in order, even if just a chocolate shake.
He wrote out a temp certificate and I received my permanent, “green card” a couple months later. I flew for a couple months just getting used to things again since I never got to "solo" while retraining for the review ride.
Over Christmas weekend of 2005, I flew up to St. Louis (CPS) and then back down to Cape Girardeau (CGI) to see my sister. I got in some good cross-country time which I enjoyed while I also parked my lowly Skyhawk next to this gorgeous G-IV with the tail number "N1EB" and the logo "EIB" on the tail. I'll let you figure that one out.
I made a similar trip over Christmas weekend of 2006; again parking next to that G-IV at CGI. But, that time my plane was a bit more of a match… both had glass panel cockpits. I made a detour down to Picayune, MS for a day to make a visit. After the trip was done, I had logged fourteen hours under IFR; over half of it at night and a couple in IMC. I was in heaven… sort of.
So, that's how it came about but even better how it ended, or maybe the end of the beginning. I'm proud to be part of the some 618,000 Americans who holds an Airman Certificate.
Since that time, I’ve obtained an instrument rating and commercial pilot certificate. I’m currently working on CFI with the goal to take the checkride sometime in December 2007.
In looking back to that day with Dan, I was too involved with other things to notice if Dan was writing down tail numbers. But, you can never be sure who is watching and listening. The pilot of that Beechcraft may have gotten a letter just like I did. Personally, I'm convinced the one sure way to never get that letter is to be vigilant. Constantly read, test yourself and seek instruction from others. Follow not only legal minimums but establish your personal minimums. Get your instrument rating even if you never plan to fly in IMC but then practice it; be proficient. Improve every aspect of flight from the minute detail of "boring" preflight and instrument check to following checklists with religious tenacity to knowing all aspects of the weather.
Carefully follow the rules and laws established by God and government. Neither has to be forgiving when you don't. I learned that lesson twenty years ago.
So, here it is...
I originally earned my ticket while I was a Navy avionics tech at NAS Cecil Field in Jacksonville, FL. I worked nights and took lessons during the day over at Navy Jax. In eight months, I had my ticket and was burning avgas all I could. Our 150 then was only $18/hr and the Skyhawk only $22. Even instructors were a whopping $12/hr. The expensive, high performance, retractables and twins were left to the rich guys who could afford $50 an hour.
I got out, flew some while in school but then I did something stupid. I got married. A year goes by then we move to Colorado. A year after that I got involved with the flying club in Greeley. I was having a ball. My marriage sucked and we argued a lot but while some guys went to the bar, I went flying at night. I loved the night sky.
In August 1986, I was taking my wife and daughter from Greeley to Aberdeen, SD. We stopped for fuel in Rapid City (RAP) where the executive terminal had furniture I could only dream of owning at that time. Pierre Flight Service said there was a line in North Dakota moving south slowly. The briefer said it was a safe risk with its speed but I'd be better off on the ground while it passed. I knew well weather can change so I was content in staying. With that lounge? Oh yeah.
My wife, however, saw things differently. She wanted to get to Aberdeen to see her friend. But, I was "Pilot in Command" and I was in charge of the flight. Or, I should have been. I was a wimp and gave in. We loaded and left... that beautiful lounge behind.
An hour later, that line to the north was already south. I was in clouds and light rain. Did I mention I was not instrument rated? Nor had I had very much time under the hood by that time.
I was disoriented, not trusting my instruments and the seat of my pants was king. I would look at the AI and see I was at a 60° bank and had not realized it. Fortunately, little N25525 held up well to my abuse. I was convinced the DG was precessing drastically so I didn't trust it. I called Minneapolis Center (ZMP) who got online with Pierre Flight Service and got a fix on my radio signal. I was too low for radar.
ZMP spoke with airliners and other aircraft but none had the ground in site to point me to a hole. So, I was slowly vectored to a small airport in Phillip, SD (PHP). ZMP set me up for approach and I was out of the clouds with positive control and the airport in site, or at least the beacon. I should add… during this time the runway lights were out for maintenance.
I landed by the lights of the airport manager's pickup, his wife's van and a sheriff's deputy patrol car headlamps pointing along three places down the runway. The manager left us with access to his "lounge" for the night while he went home. We slept on a couch from circa-1930. The spring was in great shape; it just had nothing covering it. Remember what we left behind in RAP?
The next morning, another pilot let us use his car to go get breakfast at a cafe I swear was later used in the movie, "My Cousin Vinny." By about 10AM, clouds had finally lifted and I had 3000 feet or so. Oddly, I had a higher ceiling back toward Colorado. We went on to Aberdeen at an uneventful 2500 feet. The next day, I went up for an hour to convince myself the DG was fine and get back a bit of confidence.
Two days later we took off again, heading back to Greeley. The flight was mild and nearly boring. But, I was a lot safer than two nights earlier. Upon my return, I met one of the owners of the club, himself returning from a weekend trip. I informed him of the events to which he responded with, "Don't be surprised if you don't get a letter."
He called me just two days later saying I needed to get a ride with one of the club's CFI’s before I go up again. He had already been called by Chicago FSDO to find out what idiot was flying the plane registered to his name. A month after that, I got the letter. I had to take a "609 Review" before I could exercise privileges of my airman certificate again.
Between the time of the flight and getting that letter, I left my wife, changed jobs and moved to Denver. There were slight changes in my life. I never took the ride and a year after that I got a letter stating I was in suspension and the FAA was going to seek money penalties if I did not surrender my certificate. The penalty was $300 per day if I recall correctly. I got lucky. The FSDO attorney transferred to another agency and never forwarded the case to the US attorney's office. Nineteen years at $300 a day... ouch! Nope, I never surrendered my certificate.
Roll forward nineteen years to June 2005. I'm living in Georgia and money is much better. I started taking lessons while getting clarification from FSDO on what I needed to accomplish. After completing the Cessna Private Pilot course at home and some 22 hours in the air, I took the 709 Review in September.
With flaky weather I couldn't get a good day to fly down to FultonCounty. I couldn't fly on my own since I was in suspension so an instructor was necessary (There’s no provision to solo someone preparing for a 709 while under suspension). I was also battling for examiner time along with a lot of CFI candidates. I was scheduled for a month but was canceled due to weather. Dan, the FAA examiner, was happy to hear me say "cancel" when he called at 6AM on the day of the scheduled flight. The next day he calls me and says he now has Friday open. "I'll take it!" But, I couldn't get an available instructor. The guys at the school were still great. They just said, "We'll make a plane available for you if you can get him here." Dan got a waiver to come my way rather than meet at his airport.
We spent about three hours at the table in oral followed by 2.5 hours in the air and another hour back at the table. All through the flight, I kept wavering, wondering.... "Ok, I blew it." to "This is looking pretty good." Just when I was relaxed headed back home, he would throw a maneuver at me from steep turns to emergency landing to stalls. Not just once, but several times, inter-mingled when you didn't know they would come. On landing back at Gainesville, he pulls power on me just prior to base. At the same time, a Beech slides in without notice, no comm. We do an extended downwind and I make a normal landing. Second time, we do power off. It's not perfect but I make it. He tells me I did it because I was committed. I had no power to concern myself with so just fly the plane. The last time, he took away my flaps. I was high, fast and landed a ways down. But, it was a safe landing. I wasn't convinced as he tells me to go ahead and taxi in. I'm thinking I failed. As I cross the hold line he tells me, "Congratulations, you're a private pilot again." As I clean up the plane, he tells me to relax; he'd take the plane since I know how to taxi. Relief and libations were in order, even if just a chocolate shake.
He wrote out a temp certificate and I received my permanent, “green card” a couple months later. I flew for a couple months just getting used to things again since I never got to "solo" while retraining for the review ride.
Over Christmas weekend of 2005, I flew up to St. Louis (CPS) and then back down to Cape Girardeau (CGI) to see my sister. I got in some good cross-country time which I enjoyed while I also parked my lowly Skyhawk next to this gorgeous G-IV with the tail number "N1EB" and the logo "EIB" on the tail. I'll let you figure that one out.
I made a similar trip over Christmas weekend of 2006; again parking next to that G-IV at CGI. But, that time my plane was a bit more of a match… both had glass panel cockpits.
I made a detour down to Picayune, MS for a day to make a visit. After the trip was done, I had logged fourteen hours under IFR; over half of it at night and a couple in IMC. I was in heaven… sort of.So, that's how it came about but even better how it ended, or maybe the end of the beginning. I'm proud to be part of the some 618,000 Americans who holds an Airman Certificate.
Since that time, I’ve obtained an instrument rating and commercial pilot certificate. I’m currently working on CFI with the goal to take the checkride sometime in December 2007.
In looking back to that day with Dan, I was too involved with other things to notice if Dan was writing down tail numbers. But, you can never be sure who is watching and listening. The pilot of that Beechcraft may have gotten a letter just like I did. Personally, I'm convinced the one sure way to never get that letter is to be vigilant. Constantly read, test yourself and seek instruction from others. Follow not only legal minimums but establish your personal minimums. Get your instrument rating even if you never plan to fly in IMC but then practice it; be proficient. Improve every aspect of flight from the minute detail of "boring" preflight and instrument check to following checklists with religious tenacity to knowing all aspects of the weather.
Carefully follow the rules and laws established by God and government. Neither has to be forgiving when you don't. I learned that lesson twenty years ago.
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