You Know You're A Pilot When #3

You know you're a pilot when...

• You feel a pang of "uh oh" when, 45 minutes out you realize you forgot to study the STARs, approach plates, and airport taxi diagram for your airport of intended landing, and you are sitting in row 14!
• You automatically visualize a little miniature runway aligned to the appropriate magnetic headings when you hear 28-10 (and if you hear 28L-10R you visualize two parallel runways). 
• You say 28 as "two eight" instead of "twenty eight".
• You mentally compare the pitch or climb angle of the roads you drive with bank and pitch angles of the plane you fly.
• You can't remember which type of plane you are in, but you sure know the call sign and can hear that call sign no matter how busy the chatter is.
• You know when you see three people standing by a particular location they must be a flight instructor and family waiting for someone as they do their first student solo. 
• Any time you see a picture with clouds in it you automatically think about the relative stability of the air that created the cloud and how smooth or turbulent you would expect the air to be in and near that cloud.
• You find yourself mentally calculating the crosswind component for any wind reported by ATIS on approach as a reflex. 
• Your daughter catches you walking around the living room holding a trekking pole up in front of you to represent the wings and cowling of a plane as you walk through a chandelle. 
• Any time you are outdoors you scan the skies looking for airplanes and smile whenever you see one.
• You can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening than fly a friend over the city and bay at night. 

Bonus -
You know you've been studying for the Commercial Written test too long when...

• You know what Figure 8 looks like and what the fuel burn rate is at 55% cruise power without looking at it.
• You don't like dealing with Figures 16, 17 and 20 but are OK with Figure 18 and 19.
• You finally have figured out how to answer all of the ADF and RMI questions. 
• You know how much weight you will have to shift to the new station to get the desired new CG without even doing the calculation.
• If given a bearing change and time for the change you can calculate time and distance to station in about 20 seconds, in 5 seconds if the bearing doubles.
• You know the difference between advection, radiation and steam fog. 
• You know how many positive G's a normal category aircraft is certificated to handle.
• You don't need to look it up to know a plane at a 60 degree bank will experience a 2G load factor.
• You can get through 200 random questions from the test bank in 2 hours with no wrong answers.

Oh it is fun to fly!

Working With a CFI

I started my formal commercial pilot training last weekend. Today was my second training flight for the new rating. It was fun. It was fun because I talked with my CFI candidly about my level of comfort in the plane and my desire to try to keep the flying fun and not fixate on specs. My CFI is a darned good CFI. It seemed he had already detected my comfort level wasn't where it needed to be and when I told him how I am particularly sensitive to different sounds in the plane he decided he would address that as well. I've learned what the Arrow sounds like on normal climb out, cruise and descent. I am not familiar to what the plane sounds like when it is taken through its paces with full power and power off, full prop or prop full back, full power climb and no power descents. Planes making unfamiliar noises set off warning bells in my mind.

Today's flight started with a focus on the different sounds the plane will be making... the squeal of the landing gear horn when the power is pulled back to idle. The bit of a surge the engine makes, sometimes, when the prop is shoved forward or the manifold pressure is suddenly reduced. The changes in the sound when doing steep turns at 18" of manifold pressure. The brief cough in the engine when power is reduced or increased quickly. The feel of the buffet on the edge of a stall, the actual feel of a power on stall and the pitch required to make it happen.

After I got comfortable with the vast variety of sounds and pitches we started working on the components of chandelles. Taking the components one piece at a time worked really well and with increased comfort at the high pitch required for the second half of the maneuver I was able to roll the wings level very smoothly and slowly. The last one I did was to commercial spec without much effort at all.

Another thing to note on that last chandelle was a 172 was below us doing slow flight. We noticed him and did not get too concerned about it just made sure to "see and avoid". It turns out the Cessna had an ex-DPE we knew in it. He was watching us and caught up to me later to tell me he saw my chandelle and said it was very nice and smooth.

One thing chandelle's do is they make you climb, so, I got to learn how to do a steep spiral to descend quickly. That was fun too... then it was time to go back to RHV. I did a nice straight in approach and landing, ending on a high note for me.

I think a large portion of why this particular flight went so well is me being up front with my CFI about my level of comfort, sensitivity to sound and desires for the tone of my flying. In my opinion, being able to be honest with your CFI, having a CFI that is able to adjust to and address your concerns and needs, and then trusting that CFI and putting your best into whatever they tell you to do critical to successful flight training. It's a relationship that requires both people, CFI and student, to work together for a common goal. I'm happy and grateful to have a very good relationship with my CFI developed over many years of flying together. That relationship will drive my future successes in flying :)

Standing at 13,200 Feet

Here are some brief impressions of a two and a half day trek in the Eastern Sierras. Our trek was from the Onion Valley trail head at 9,200 feet, over Kearsarge Pass at 11,760 feet, past Kearsarge and Bullfrog lakes, down to Vidette Meadow (9,000 feet), and up Bubbs Creek all the way to its alpine lake sources and even further, to stand on Forester Pass. Forester Pass is knife edge ridge between Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks at 13,200 feet. It's the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail. We hiked around 35 miles total distance and a few miles of vertical distance as well.

Acclimatization

Acclimatization works! I live at sea level. I fly, usually, at 5500 feet or below unless I'm going on a long cross country. There is no reason I should be able to hike with a 20 lb pack on my back at altitudes ranging from 9,200 feet to 13,200 feet without gasping and panting for air. No reason aside from the fact that, three days before our trek, my friend, Chris, and I drove up to Mammoth Lakes and worked and played at 7,600 feet to get our bodies used to the thinner air. The night before the hike we went down to about 4,000 feet at Independence, CA to have easy access to the trail head for an early start.

Trekking Poles

Trekking poles ROCK! They help you use your arms to pull your body up steps, up inclines, across level ground when the legs are tired. They help balance when crossing streams on little stepping stones. They provide extra balance and support for tired legs and knees when climbing down steep inclines and steps. They also double as tent spikes when needed.

Food

If you are like me and don't eat a lot when exercising, and plan to hike from dawn to dusk, pack about 1/3rd of the food you think you need. This will leave you with plenty left over when done with your trek. When you are done and have the finish of the trip made, find a new hiker on their way into the wild and offer them your extra food. Someone will take it and make your pack feel much lighter.

Sleeping At Altitude

It is cold at 10,700 feet at night. Even if the general temperature is significantly higher than it would be on a "standard day", the temp drops significantly when the sun goes down and gets even colder just as the sun peaks over the mountain tops. Bring extra wool socks. Wrap your cold feet in the "emergency blanket" you brought if you are feeling too cold. That works in a pinch. Expect strange dreams and unsettled sleep as your body keeps waking you up to complain about the oxygen you're not breathing. Don't hyperventilate, it wont' help. If possible sleep in a grove of trees or in a sheltered spot so the wind doesn't batter your tent and make you colder. If you happen to have a sunburn you can use the heat from the sunburn to warm your cold hands.

The Sound of the Wind

Gusts at night in the high sierras just sound amazing. They start off as a whisper, then a hiss getting louder, then a whoosh, then a roar and a bang as the gust passes your tent like a freight train. Suddenly the tent is flapping wildly, only to calm again to gentle twitches as you wait for the next gust of wind.

Rods and Cones

If you don't believe what your CFI taught you about rods and cones and the way the night adapted eye cannot see what its directly focused on, try following the motion of a satellite across the sky by looking directly at it at night. You can't. The only way to see that satellite is to look slightly away from it. All of the sudden it will appear. Look at it directly, it will disappear.

Standing at 13,200 feet It Isn't Easy but It's Worth It

Like anything worthwhile in life, reaching the tops of Kearsarge Pass (twice) and Forester Pass was not easy, by any stretch. However, it was totally worth doing and not miserable to do.  I highly recommend it.

What's it like to climb up Forester Pass? Go to the gym. Put on a 20 lb pack. Get on the StairMaster. Set it to random between 50% and maximum grade up and start climbing... for... three... hours. That's where the similarity stops. Here's what's different.

You can stop any time you want for a brief break. You've got your trekking poles to balance you and pull you up. The sights around you are out of this world. The air is sweet and pure and the breeze keeps your body comfortably cool while the sun is comfortably warm. There's usually a creek flowing near by, or an alpine lake sparkling in the rocks, or at the very least amazing vistas of mountains and rocks as far as the eye can see. Every time you stop you can see you've progressed significantly since your last stop. Every time you pause near a large rock you can lean on that rock to take the weight of the pack off your back. And whenever there is a particularly amazing view, you stop a bit longer to take a photo or two and that helps your legs and lungs recover enough to continue on.

After three hours you stand on the knife's edge and peek over the edge of the world. You take off your pack, sit down in the cool breeze, lean back on a comfy rock, and grab a quick lunch. You've accomplished the hard, the difficult, the unlikely and unusual ... and it feels good. Not at all unlike learning how to fly. :)