"I completed the aerobatics course today. Did a couple random maneuvers
and then a competition type sequence of loop leading directly into
hammerhead turn leading directly into Immelman leading directly into a
one turn spin, any one of which would have scared the piss out of me
before I began all this.

The airplane I've been flying is the Super Decathalon, high-winged
monoplane, black with red "shooting stars".

BTW, the intent is that it should *not* be swashbuckling. The whole
idea is to explore some of the outer reaches of the flight envelope so
as to better understand the center region. The top ten priorities are
"Safety First."

That being said, I never dreamed I'd actually fly a loop, never mind
flying one as a 'warm-up' before the real lesson. You actually get
accustomed to looking out the windshield and seeing pine trees pointed
straight at you.

Cross Country: A Short, Short Story

Big thaw this week. It hasn't been above freezing since Thanksgiving, and both January and February (to date) were 10-15 degrees colder than normal.

Cessna 172

Yesterday, it actually hit 50+, a most timely and welcome break that I was able to use to complete the lastof the cross-country checkoffrequirements for a Private Pilot license. I started with an afternoon solo X-C to New Bedford and back. The trip was fast, pleasant and smooth. Navigation was dead easy, particularly since I'd rehearsed the flight several times with Microsoft Flight Simulator. Checkpoints jumped out at me and I hit most of them right on the money. But the real purpose of the trip was to get some experience dealing with Air Traffic Controllers.

My previous flights were to the west and north, out in the boonies and away from the most popular airways. What you do out there nobody knows or cares. This one went right down I-495, and even passed within a twitch of the Boston Class B airspace. "B" is for"Busy". You don't go in there unless you've got a good reason for doing so. And student pilots don't go in there without a note from God.

But just being in the neighborhood is an opportunity for invaluable experience. ATC offers a thing called "flight following", formally known as Radar Services. The primary purpose is to guide pilots following intrument flight plans through clouds to their objectives, and to keep them clear of oneanother. It's also available to VFR pilots on a workload permitting basis.

New England Winter

You call them up, ask very sweetly,and maybe they'll give you a transponder code. The code identifies you on their radar screens and they will thereafter provide traffic advisories - "Cessna 96792 - King Air at 10 o'clock, your altitude, heading Southwest".They can also do vectoring - "Sir, your destination airport is that large, empty area with the paved runways forming a giant 'X' on the ground that you see two miles directly ahead." Sometimes they're nice, sometimes they're brusque - depends on how they feel and how much IFR traffic they have to handle. Sometimes they're downright ugly, particularly when they're "at their limit". I wasn't looking forward to be scolded for my various fumbles but it's something one has to learn.

Yesterday they were very nice. My initial contact at Boston Approach assigned me a transponder code but warned me "remain clear of Bravo airspace". Fine. I had deliberately selected a route to stay clear.
A short time later, he handed me off to someone else. The controllers each have 'territories' they manage and you get passed from one to the next as you move along your route. The second guy, who was so chipper and cheery I wondered if he'd had anything besides beer for lunch, quite unnecessarily cleared me into the sacred Bravo airspace. A first.

I got handed off at least a dozen times. On the whole, they were cooperative and helpful. During the trip home, one lady even suggested I turn 20 degrees further North. "It will take you a bit out of your way but you can stay "With Us" for another 12 miles." Quite an agreeable experience. I was pumped.

After sunset, I did the second trip, a supervised night flight to Providence. This wasn't as easy. While conditions were "severe clear", in fact nearly ideal, the effort of coping with the airplane and radio traffic in a dark cockpit soon had me soaked with sweat. Fortunately, I had Joy along as instructor.

Cessna 172 Accomodates the pilot and three passengers, max speed 259 km/hr, range 1,554 km

Joy is a First Officer for Northwest who was doing some moonlighting between assignments. She was a pleasant companion and offered authoritative coaching on how to deal with the busy airspaces around large commercialairports. Like finding the airport in the first place. Our destination was T. F. Green International, the main commercial airport in Rhode Island,
located at the south-eastern corner of Providence.

We got a spectacular light show flying over the city, so dazzling that I could barely make out the airport beacon, never mind the runway. It never occurred to me that spotting something the size of four counties would be difficult, even at night. But beyond the edge of the city glow there was nothing but blackness.

As we settled down towards where the airport was supposed to be, aided somewhat by Providence Approach - "Sir, turning *LEFT* will make the numbers on your compass go smaller" - Joy asked if I could see the runway. I couldn't. "Tell him to turn up the lights", she suggested. I called the tower and asked him to turn up the lights. "Oh, sure thing," he said cheerfully. Sounded like he'd been out to lunch with that other ATC, and then had a few more for supper. "Let me know when you want them turned back down."

Turned back down? I could make out no detail whatever on the
ground, and I couldn't imagine why, if I ever *did* see the runway,
or even a grassy area to land on, I would want it to disappear
again. For a moment, nothing. Then ... ***BLAM*** Out of the blackness
burst the eye-searing, multi-colored outline of a huge, 7,000 foot runway, complete with centerline, threshold lights, and a visual slope indicator. You could almost feel the regional power grid sag under the increased load. It even had a stroboscopic "rabbit", repeatedly racing across in front of us from left to right, visually urging every airplane with 150 nautical miles towards the runway threshold. It was like getting sucked into a Black Hole.

Once I got properly lined up, I realized I wouldn't be able to read my own instruments for the glare. I called the tower again and asked him to turn the lights back down. They promptly receded to a dim glow, now quite adequate

Cessna 525 CitationJet Described as a small affordable entry level jet

given our corrected position. And it was even a half-decent landing. As we went over the threshold, Joy pointed out a Southwest Airlines 737, waiting at the hold short point. "See", she said, "you have just as much right to be here as they do." Joy seemed to appreciate the experience,too. Perhaps flying as an everyday job makes you forget how enchanting it can be. Seen through the eyes of a neophyte (yours truly) she was reminded of the wonder. Other than the enchanting part, the whole thing scared the Bejesus out of me. Of the 15-20 'conflicting aircraft' ATC called to us, I saw exactly one. And my navigation was a shambles. We even had to ask them to vector us back to our own home airport. "Sir, your destination airport is that large, empty area ...."

I think they make you do a night cross country hoping it will be so intimidating you won't want to try it on your own once you've got your license. Saves them a lot of bother going out for Search and Rescue while their favorite network Prime Time shows are on TV. Certainly made a believer out of me. Anyway, I've now fulfilled all the formal requirements and can now
begin tuning up for the checkride.

Evan Suits - 2/21/03