Countdown to my checkride!

Nearly three months since my last blog post, a lot has happened

I gave my sister and my neice a ride to Boston after they visited us in Maine - a nice comfortable ride for Maya and her bunny!

with my flying! And, perhaps, maybe, hopefully, in a matter of a couple of weeks I will get my license!

I spent the summer in Maine, at our house on Mount Desert Island. N464CD was based at Bar Harbor Airport (BHB) – just a 20 minute drive away.  BHB is the home of Coastal Maine Flight Center – a Cirrus training center. So I have spent a lot of time flying and have cleared some big milestones. Here’s my list from the past 2 months:

• A couple of weeks ago I finally took the dreaded FAA Private Pilot Knowledge test. I hardly aced it – but I passed (a passing grade is anything over 70% and I did better than that).
• I soloed – lots. I did dozens of landings and takeoffs at BHB.
• I did solo takeoff and landings at a big/control tower airport (Bangor and Portland) – talking and landing at the same time
• I did solo cross country flights – starting with BHB to Deblois, Maine (all of 25 miles away) and ending last week with a 300+ mile trip that took me from Bar Harbor to Millinocket, Maine to Portland (with a control tower) and back to Bar Harbor.

The biggest thing, I guess, is that I have been gaining confidence. Each of these steps has given me one more notch of confidence – not over-confidence, by a long shot, but confidence that I can do this and pass my test and be a safe, competent pilot.

Maybe just as interesting for me is that I have not lost my enthusiasm. I can’t think of anything that has been as challenging or time consuming that I have done in my adult life. But I have poured my heart into it, embraced it, and had a great time at it. I’ll do some more updating on the blog soon, but I realized today way too much time has passed between postings.

I soloed! (again)

On Wednesday, Mark took this picture of me after I had done three take offs and landings by myself - they call that smile I'm wearing the "solo smile"

A week into my fly-every-day training, my instructor, Mark Wages, started hinting that a solo was coming. He would mention it now and then, and one night he emailed me my “pre-solo” written test. On Monday, the hints were over, and Mark said “we’ll do a couple of landings and see where you are” and if everything looked good, I’d solo (do a few landings with no one else aboard) the next morning.

If you’ve been reading this blog, you might recall that I soloed once before – in a Cessna 172. That was on December 31, 2009 after a few months of training. But N464CD (a Cirrus SR 20) is a very different plane. For one thing, it’s faster and that means there’s less time in the pattern to set up for a landing.

I did not sleep well Monday night (excited and nervous), and I got up Tuesday at 4:30 am. Over coffee, I took the pre-solo written test and at 6:30  am I gave it to Mark who said “we’re ready to go.” I knew that Mark would not let me solo unless I was ready. Tuesday was a beautiful day in Keene, with calm winds and clear skies. I especially love flying in the morning when I am fresh. So I was ready to go.

As we pulled up to Keene Airport, however, we looked down Runway 02 and saw a strange site. There were  yellow construction trucks with flashing lights and people walking around. Airport maintenance had decided this was such a nice day that they should repaint the lines on the entire runway – effectively closing the airport! With 15 minutes notice, planes could take off and land, but they were not allowing “touch and gos” or any pattern work – the kind of thing you do on a solo.

I felt like the rug was pulled out from under me. My head was in the right place, and I wanted to get this milestone over with. But it was not to be.

As there things often turn out, it was for the best. We decided to fly over to Concord and do some more practice landings. I needed to solo at my home airport in Keene, so today was not going to be my solo day.  That evening, with the new bright stripes on the runway dry and a clear sky over Keene, I asked my step kids if they wanted to go for a flight. Mark and I took them up (first Heather and Lucy and then Griffen and JT) for a sightseeing trip over Keene. We showed them their school, and our house, and we circled Alumni Field in Keene where our local baseball team, the Swamp Bats, were playing under the lights. I made good landings and I felt ready to try again on Wednesday.

When we got home, Lucy (who is eight) gave me a hug and told me “that was the best moment of my life!”

On Tuesday night, I slept great. I knew I could do this, and Wednesday was looking good. Wednesday morning, Mark and I flew two good patterns and had two landings, and Mark said “you’re ready.” I actually was. Mark got out of the plane at the terminal and I taxied to Runway 02 in Keene, a runway I have taken off on over 100 times. I talked myself through it (out loud). I briefed myself on emergency procedures. And I did everything the same way we had been doing it for a week.

It all happens so fast in the air, that there really isn’t time to feel anything but “get the job done.”  On downwind I adjusted the speed to 100 knots (115 miles per hour) and kept the altitude at 1000 feet above the ground. Abeam the numbers, I reduced the throttle, pushed the yoke forward and put in the first notch of flaps. 45 degrees from the numbers, with the descent right at 500 feet per minute, I added full flaps, checked the speed a little above 90 and turned base. Seconds later I was beginning to turn final and I made my radio call, “Keene traffic, 4 Charlie Delta final 02 Keene.” With my speed reduced to 75, I lined up the numbers on the runway, did my final check, and headed straight at the runway. Seconds later, I was over the runway, beginning to round out, and finally adding just enough flare. The wheels touched; it wasn’t a perfect landing. But it was my first in N464CD.

I don’t know if I breathed in that final minute, but as I turned off the runway onto the taxiway, I did. And over my radio, Mark said “that looked good – want to do another?”

The last time I soloed, I remember this rather simple but nice feeling I had – I can fly an airplane. This week, I was smiling and feeling good and thinking: I can fly N464CD.

10 days of total immersion – intense!

A few weeks back, I decided that the next step in my pilot training should be ten days of total immersion. Ten days of flying every day, for a few hours each day.

Mark Wages and me yesterday. Mark is a Cirrus instructor who is giving me 10 days of intense training

The problem with my plan was that Bo, my flight instructor, is just not available for that kind of time commitment.

I needed to turn my training up a notch – push my way through to the next level of competency. I needed to begin the last leg of the work toward being able to fly my airplane by myself. It’s the beginning of June, the weather is great, and in a couple of weeks we are headed to Maine for the summer. I saw a window of opportunity.

All I needed was an instructor who knew the Cirrus and could commit to that kind of time.

So I found Mark Wages. Mark is a young (by age) flight instructor who used to work at the Cirrus factory doing what they call transition training for new owners. Mark now lives in North Carolina, and he does exactly what I was looking for – work with people like me at their home locations. You might call it freelance flight instruction. The cool thing about Mark is that he knows my plane, and he is one of the most experienced instructors out there when it comes to teaching people to fly a Cirrus. So last Sunday I picked Mark up at Manchester Airport and we’ve been flying every day since.

Our days have ranged from days like Friday (19 landings at 2 airports – Keene and Concord) to days where we did a bunch of cross country work, landing at 5 different airports. We’ve done some simulated instrument work (flying by the instruments without reference to any visual cues outside the airplane). We’ve done slow flight, power-on and power-off stalls (the plane does not

Yesterday was Keene Aviation Day at the airport - and over 6500 people showed up to watch acrobatic acts and sky jumpers and see a wide variety of airplanes on display

want to stall, you really have to push it to stop flying). And yesterday, we practiced power-off landings, learning how to land the airplane if the airplane loses power – fun!

Every teacher – of flying or anything for that matter – has a different style. But Mark’s approach is working great for me, and I am making huge strides. The “Cirrus way” of teaching is that there is a technique, a process, a by-the-book way to fly the airplane. Frankly, it’s a structured process which I have been needing – and I am thriving with it.

For instance, we’ve broken down the pattern work for doing landings into lots of small steps, which add up to setting the plane softly on the ground. And my cross-country execution is easier and better. For instance, a small but useful suggestion from Mark was that I overfly a “new to me” airport before I set up for the landing so that I can see the runways, the wind sock, and prepare myself for a well-executed landing.

The next step is to prepare me to solo in my plane.

N464CD was on display yesterday at Keene Aviation Day - when this kid is 20 maybe he'll remember when he first got turned on to aviation

I’ve already soloed (last December) in a Cessna 172, but the Cirrus is a different, faster, more electronically complicated plane. We’re now half way through our time together and  last night, Mark and I talked about the next and last 5 days of our training and our goals for what we want to achieve. So far, the weather’s held out and we’ve gotten some great flying days in. So far, this has been a great experience. In the course of 10 days, my piloting skills are improving dramatically.

Experience teaches even fools (like me)

For three years, from the seventh through ninth grades, I took Latin. I stunk at it. I barely passed. I wasn’t motivated and I just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. Forty plus years later, I’m having deja vu all over again.

We had a nice flight up to Bar Harbor yesterday - my two sons went with me for the first time. Adam took this picture as we approached Bar Harbor airport (KBHB)

In order to become a licensed private pilot, you have to have a check ride with an FAA designated examiner. That seems fair enough – the FAA wants to verify that you can safely fly the airplane before they issue you a license.

But before you can take your check ride, you have to pass the FAA Knowledge Test. Here’s how it works: you go to an FAA testing site, sit at a computer, and they give you 2 1/2 hours to answer 60 questions. You need to get a score of 70% (42 correct answers) to pass the test. You can’t take the private pilot check ride until you have passed the knowledge test.

And the FAA makes it easy (not for me, but for other people). Here’s how: They choose the 60 questions randomly from a database of about 700 questions. And the 700 or so questions are made available to everyone. They’re in books, online, in iPhone apps. The questions are multiple choice (three choices) – which means even random guesses should result in a score of 33%.  Sounds easy, right?

Well, not for me. My brain is not properly wired for memorization. I was lousy at foreign languages. I couldn’t remember the various grammar rules in English class in junior high (i before e except after…). And I had those problems when my brain was only 13 or 14 years old. Now my brain is nearly 57 years old and it’s worse!

I have been studying for this test for weeks. In the winter, I took a ground school course that covered much of it. I bought an online course and have watched most of their videos. And I am constantly taking practice tests – there are tons of them online. (Want to try it – here’s one.) Despite all of that, I keep getting scores of 83-85% and I really, really want to ace this test. I figure my actual score at a testing site will be lower than my “practice” tests. One guideline I hear from people is that you should consistently score 90% plus before taking the test.

Some of the questions are easy (for me at least). For instance:

What is the definition of a high-performance airplane?
A) An airplane with a normal cruise speed in excess of 200 knots.
B) An airplane with an engine of more than 200 horsepower.
C) An airplane with 180 horsepower, or retractable landing gear, flaps, and a fixed-pitch propeller.

(The answer is “B”) But other questions require calculations – such as weight limits and something called “moment.” And boy am I struggling with those. Still others are rote memorization.

Here’s an example of a question that simply makes my head hurt:

The operator of an aircraft that has been involved in an accident is required to file an accident report within how many days?

	A)	10.
	B)	5.
	C)	7.

My answer is that if I am involved in an accident, I’ll figure this out – that is if I live to tell about it.

Another aspect of this (and this happened with Latin too – 40 years ago), is that some of the questions are irrelevant to actual flying. For instance, there are lots of questions about navigating using technology (VORs) that is essentially being phased out. And there are one or two questions about GPS – which is how I navigate and most pilots do these days.

So I keep plugging away. The other day I took a practice test in the morning. I thought: if I get a 90, I will drive to Nashua and take the test today. I got a 75! I went backwards! And now I am worried that the more I take the practice tests, the more there may be a point of diminishing return. I am starting to see the same questions over and over and I am trying to remember how I answered it the last time and if that was the correct answer. I am starting to overthink the whole exercise!

The purpose of this particular blog was to vent about my frustrations – with Latin and the FAA. As it turned out, learning Latin wasn’t such a bad thing. So many foreign languages are rooted in Latin and I still remember some of the Latin phrases I had to learn. One was: experientia docet stultos: Experience teaches even fools.

I’m flying again – watch the VIDEO!

It feels great to be back in the saddle again! After a full month (vacations and a 3-week long annual for the plane), I was back in N464CD yesterday. Heather, Bo (my CFI), Ellen Winkler (our interior designer) and I flew up to Bar Harbor yesterday to check on the construction progress. Flying is not exactly like riding a bike – meaning I felt rusty. This video was shot by Heather from the back seat as I landed in Claremont, NH to pick up Ellen. Heather was using her Flip video, and it certainly wasn’t this bumpy – it’s hard enough to hold the camera steady on the ground – but in an airplane, it’s tough!

During the landing you can see what I am seeing, heading at the numbers on Runway 29 at Claremont, and you can hear the stall warning going off (it’s supposed to!) just before we touch down. I haven’t quite figured out how to patch in our communications – so you can’t hear us talking. Interestingly, I think you can hear me adding a little power on the final, because I needed a bit more altitude.

Bo tried to convince me that the month-long break had been good for my learning curve, allowing me to absorb what we had been working on. And I guess I buy it. My landings yesterday were ok – not bad, not great – but ok.

In 5 weeks, we’re heading to Maine for the summer, and I have been hoping to have made some really significant progress before leaving toward my license. We’ll see. Still kind of hard for me to imagine flying from Keene to Bar Harbor without Bo.

Another learning to fly a Cirrus blog

Max Haynes is doing a great job sharing his learning-to-fly adventure and anyone enjoying mine will certainly like his: Click on his special “anxiety gauge” to go to this blog

Waiting and annuals

So I last flew on April 7. It is May 3. Yes, I had a business trip in early April and I spent a week in Israel visiting my parents. But the main reason I haven’t been flying is that N464CD has been getting its annual inspection. What everyone told me about annuals is that they will cost twice as much as you think and they will take twice as long. The Murphy’s law of airplane annuals, I guess. But they were wrong. My plane has been in the shop for 2 weeks and 3 days – but who’s counting? Meanwhile, it’s spring. Saturday was a gorgeous, warm, clear and calm day. And, instead of flying, my plane was in a hangar. I am trying practice the fine art of aviation patience. Meanwhile I am studying for my pilot knowledge test – trying to put in enough study hours so I can pass it next week. Do I sound frustrated and anxious to get back in the cockpit? Stay tuned.

What exactly is a glass cockpit?

For about the last 100 years or so, small airplanes have had the same “technology” in the cockpit. It consisted of six gauges (often called a “six pack”) that told pilots their airspeed, their altitude, if they were climbing or descending, if they were turning or if the wings were level, and what direction they were headed.  That’s really all a pilot needed (or needs) to fly the airplane.  But “flying” is not all a pilot is doing. You need to know where you are. And you need to talk on the radio. On top of that, there are all sorts of electrical and engine systems which need monitoring.

About 10 years ago, Cirrus began manufacturing small airplanes with a next generation cockpit. They didn’t really invent this new technology – it had been utilized in larger planes for years. But Cirrus was the first to introduce the technology to the small, single engine airplane. N464CD is a 2005 Cirrus SR20 and this is what my cockpit looks like. On the lower left of the dashboard, you can see three “old-fashioned” gauges. These are back-up instruments in case the electronic instruments fail. I admit to being a technology geek. I’ve told Heather that flying has allowed me to be in touch with my inner geek. She tells me it was there all along.

The two screens you see in the picture are the primary display (on the left) and the multi-function display (on the right). The primary display shows all of the information which used to be on the six gauges – plus lots of other information. For instance, on the PFD, you can see the current wind speed and direction at your altitude – a piece of information which is enormously helpful and which pilots did not previously have access to.

The MFD has lots of screens that you can toggle between. The screen that I use the most shows  a map with my current position and route with current radar weather overlaid on top of it. It also shows me other airplanes in the area and what their position and altitude are. There are other screens that show engine and electrical information, nearest airports with their current weather, and information about my destination including the current weather conditions.

All of this information can add up to one of two things – situational overload or situational awareness. Of course the key is to not be overloaded. Think about the map in N464CD as contrasted with how pilots used to have to fly. I am completely aware of where we are at all times. In the olden days (and the way many pilots still fly), you would use charts and things called “pilot-age” and “dead reckoning.” That meant plotting a route, looking for landmarks on the chart and finding them on the ground and recording the time between way-points.  All of this could be understandably distracting for a pilot – allowing the pilot to pay attention to something other than flying the airplane.

One of the other instruments in N464CD which isn’t all that new is the autopilot. With the autopilot, the plane will automatically maintain an altitude and a heading, so that I can do other things – while always maintaining my awareness of the flying. For instance I can check the map screen, or the engine, or communicate with ATC on the radio – instead of constantly working the airplane’s controls to maintain altitude or heading.

In the view of many, the glass cockpit increases a pilot’s “situational awareness.” Think about it this way: when you’re driving your car, and you get lost, what happens to the quality of your driving? You’re looking for landmarks, street signs, addresses – meanwhile you’re spending less time watching out for the other cars. I’ve used GPS in my car now for probably 7 or 8 years – and I can’t recall getting lost in that time. And I can honestly say that I am less stressed driving because I am not worried about being lost.

Despite what I am saying, a recent NTSB study showed that glass cockpits were not, in fact, increasing safety. Their recommendation was that to realize the safety potential of glass cockpits there needs to be more training of pilots on how to utilize the functionality of the new technology.

The key to flying a plane like N464CD is not to get fixated by the glass screens. I need to remember that I am the pilot. I need to always remember to fly the airplane, to be looking outside.

Landing is the hardest part

I feel great about flying, even to some degree confident. Since last September, when I took my first lesson, I have learned a tremendous amount. I have had 65 hours of instruction. I’ve been attending ground school every Saturday morning for the past few months. I’ve read books, watched videos, taken online courses. In short, I have immersed myself in learning how to fly.

At first, I had a difficult time with the entire concept of landing an airplane. It is an unnatural, counter-intuitive thing to do. The act of pointing your airplane at the ground while traveling through the sky at 80 miles per hour – well, it’s something that just doesn’t come naturally. In my first few lessons, my body and my mind were shouting at me: don’t do this! Over time, I overcame this hesitancy. I can – now – fly the airplane on its final approach from 500 feet in the air down to the ground.

It’s what happens next that is still a challenge for me. Despite the fact that I have done over 100 landings, they are the one area of flying that I still struggle with. More specifically, it is the final few seconds of the landing that are hard for me.  Actual landings (meaning the last 10 feet or so) take seconds, and because they last only for a moment or so, it is more about muscle memory then anything else. Think about the pitcher in a baseball game. Prior to pitching the ball, she can think all she wants about how she is going to throw a fast strike right down the middle of the plate, but when it’s time to do it, you don’t think, you just do it. There is no time to think.

The same holds true for landing an airplane. As I turn from the base leg to the final approach, I am still in thinking mode. I tend to talk out loud during this process. I’ll say: 100% flaps. I’ll say the speed outloud. I’ll state if I think we are too high or too low. I’ll say “centerline.”  The speed needs to slow to 75. The glide slope needs to line up. (There are lights to the side of the runway at most airports which can clue you in as to whether you are high or low. White lights mean you are too high. Red lights mean too low. A combination of half white and half red means you are just right.) So, while on the final approach, I am still in thinking mode. I am looking at the lights, checking my speed, aiming at the numbers on the runway. I am adding power if I need to be higher; or reducing power if I am too high. I am pointing the nose down if I am too slow; I am pulling up a bit if I am too fast.

Just as we pass the threshold of the runway, I can pull power all the way back (we’ve made the runway), and I can begin to pull the nose up slightly. As I near the ground the nose gets pulled up even more because you want to touch down on the main wheels, with the nose wheel still above the ground. I want to bleed off any speed. I want to feel the ground effect which will help us stop flying. And I want to hear the sweet sound of the stall horn as we gently touch the pavement. While I can explain this, all of this is happening in a few seconds, and it is different for each landing. It takes finesse, and intuition, and muscle memory. And, as  a pilot, I am a work in progress. I desperately want to grease my landings, but I don’t. I pull up too much, or too little. I have a tendency to stop flying the airplane in these last few seconds, and I need to stay active; I need to remain the pilot until we have come to a stop.

Here’s a cool video by fellow SR 20 pilot Rick Felty of a nice landing at Southbridge airport. The video is a good landing that demonstrates what I am talking about. Rick is talking his way through the pattern, and the final, and as he passes the runway threshold, he “lands” the airplane.  That thing he does – which you don’t even really see in this video – is what I am still working on.

I have set a goal for myself, which is less about getting proficient at this final piece of the landing puzzle, and more about the amount I am going to practice. I want to do 30 landings in the next 10 days. It’s just a number. And my other goal should be that I will avoid being too harsh on myself. These landings will come, it just takes practice. But it sure would be nice to grease a landing this afternoon!

Keene to Bar Harbor in 1 hour!

Why am I learning to fly? Besides all of the other reasons (like it’s something I have always wanted to do) – this is probably the main one: it will be phenomenally convenient and will save me tons of pain. This weekend I drove Emily back to college in Bar Harbor, Maine.We left Saturday late in the afternoon, stopped overnight in Portland (and had a great dinner). And got to Bar Harbor today around 1. So we left Keene at 4 on Saturday and got to Bar Harbor on Sunday at 1 – a total of about 21 hours.

Because I am letting Emily keep her car at school, I needed a way back home. So Bo, my flight instructor, flew N464CD up to Bar Harbor this afternoon and we flew back together. We left Bar Harbor airport at 4:30 and because we had 25 knot headwinds, I didn’t walk into my house in Keene until 6:30. Total time: 2 hours. (Because of the winds, it only took Bo an hour (1 hour!) to fly to Bar Harbor – at a max speed of 215 knots – nearly 240 miles per hour.) When I drive, it’s about 320 miles. Flying (which is significantly more direct), it’s about 200 miles.

We’re doing a bunch of work to our house in in Southwest Harbor, which is near Emily’s college. Emily and I got to inspect the construction progress. But when I think about why I fly, it is so that on weekends Heather and I can easily leave our house in Keene on a Friday night at 5 and be having dinner at our favorite restaurant in Southwest Harbor by 7.  Oh, and I promised Emily that if her grades were good this semester I would fly her out to Martha’s Vineyard for lunch!