Thu May 12, 2016 10:21 pm
Watching Motoave touch delicately down on that riverbed makes me realize I have a very long road ahead of me. I used to wonder how long it would take to have that first "I really wish I was on the ground.” flight. Turns out, in my case, about 32 hours.
Today was my first solo cross country. We flew the route dual yesterday, mostly in pouring rain. I really enjoyed yesterday's flight because it gave me some insights into marginal weather. Our destination airport, CYPS (Pemberton), has a nice long wide strip and we practised some soft field landing technique because I've been having trouble with some ballooning when I add a bit of power. It was really instructive to fly to an unknown airport and actually practise proper circuit procedures without dodging hillsides and noise abatement areas. On the way back we did a bit of ridge flying and explored some valleys. Brilliant day, despite the wx.
This morning was clear and bright so I showed up early, with my waypoints and fuel calculations already done. At the hold short line I made a note to myself to report the PTT button because it was hard to maintain a constant transmission without it skipping out. Departure was uneventful but I soon realized as I reached 4000' it was going to be bumpier than previous in my experience. I slowed down a bit and did my best to trim the plane but I was a bit uneasy with the bumps and the variation in prop noise with each gust. In my mind, if I don't change anything in terms of throttle or attitude, things should sound pretty much the same so it took a while to sync my ear with normal engine/prop sounds. Navigation was easy as I would have had to climb to 9000' to leave the long valley that connects the two towns and my groundspeed calculations and ETA were straightforward.
By the time I started my descent into CYPS I was comfortable and at ease with the plane. I entered the circuit properly and despite being a bit behind the plane getting my checks, radio calls and flaps set, I made a pretty decent landing. I backtracked and took off, thinking I probably should have just done a touch and go. That was probably my first mistake. On that circuit I turned base way too soon and was really high when I turned final. I figured that would be a good time to practise my go around. On the next circuit I stretched the downwind a bit to give myself a bit more time on final and made a decent landing, albeit a bit to the left of the center line. That was the end of the fun. I decided it would be smarter to touch-and-go instead of backtracking so I pushed in the thottle and carb heat. I was reaching for the flap switch when I realized I’d let my feet get lazy and I was rapidly heading off the left side of the runway. Momentary panic and some clumsy feet but I got it pointed straight and lifted off just as the flaps came all the way up (I’d forgotten to bring them up slowly in my panic) and the plane dove back toward the runway. I managed to avoid touching down but I was really shook up by almost running off the runway, then almost smacking back down, which was, of course, the perfect time to run into the worst of the rough air which made me really wonder if I was in control of the airplane at all. Breathe. Check airspeed, then rpm, then altitude (for whatever reason, they are my comfort trinity) then make a plan. I was too embarrassed and scared to try another landing so I figured I’d best head for home but when I went to make my radio call my PTT was dead. Aviate, navigate, communicate, I figured I could ignore that problem for a while. When I levelled off at 4000’ I tried plugging my headset into the right seat. That seemed to work so I spent the 25 minutes home trying to forget about Pemberton. I was making my radio calls but was a bit surprised that there was no other traffic and the radio was silent all the way home. Squamish was windy and erratic and I chickened out on my first approach before I even got below the tree line at the end of the runway. On the second try I was getting pretty frazzled as I watched the windsock erratically dancing in circles. I figured I’d at least get it below the treeline and hope for calmer air near the runway. That worked, but the poor plane protested my ham-fisted pilotage with a fair bit of tire squeaking and a bit of a bump. My hands were sweaty and my heart was pounding as I crossed the threshold, called down and clear, and came to rest on the pad.
I was sitting there, collecting myself when one of the helicopter pilots walked over with a big smile. He asked how my flight was, and inquired if my volume might have been turned down by mistake. I guess he was trying to reach me to coordinate a landing sequence but I couldn’t hear anything. At that moment I felt like such a crappy pilot I just said sorry, without trying to explain the radio difficulty I’d had. Nice guy, he told me not to worry because everybody has been there.
A bit later, when I was de-briefing with my instructor, it became clear that when I had reached over to lift the flaps after my touch-and-go, I had switched the intercom to an isolate mode which messed with the PTT on the left side and the volume on the right.
Lessons learned today:
1. Don’t do things on your own that you haven’t done several times with an instructor.
2. Don’t rush to raise the flaps on either a touch-and-go or a go around.
3. Quit booking lessons in the early morning when winds are calm. Learn to fly and land in bumpy weather.
4. If you have a radio problem and think you’ve fixed it, do a radio check or assume you are NORDO.
5. When you make a stupid mistake like looking at the flap switch instead of down the runway, try to isolate that mistake, fix it, and not let it snowball.
I have more dual instruction next. I want to rebuild my confidence and work on crosswind/gusty landings. I feel pretty competent from about 20’ AGL on up but I need more time and coaching on landings.
Any other advice also appreciated.