High above the waving meadows
on golden downy wings,
in and out among the shadows,
the little bat sings:
of gorges and mountains,
of the forests and the trees.
drinking long at pleasure's fountain
riding each carefree breeze.
Alone among the stars
under their arch in the sky I glide
the blue horizon at my side.
Tue May 02, 1989 at 21:46 PDT
I got to the airport 20 minutes early and drove the poor secretary nuts wandering back and forth through the lobby. She suggested I sit down at least four times, but I couldn't light for more than a minute. Finally at 1700 hours on the dot this incredibly georgeos woman walks in the door carrying a heavy briefcase large enough to carry the entire spec sheets to the space shuttle and We get introduced. The blond bombshell is my cfi.
We chat for about 40 minutes about the forces affecting airplanes, the Y numbers, ARROW, The Bournoulli effect and the angle of attack. then it is out to the airplane. A long meticulous preflight checking every rivet, cotter pin, reaching into the cowling and seeing if there are any birds nests, and finally into the plane, where there is an even more meticulous preflight.
And now up into the air. Getting airborne was just too fast to follow but once up I felt one with lucifer, all pride and thrills. We went up to 3000' and did some turns, and I had to do what I wanted to do anyway, which was look out the window 85% of the time to make sure I was in the correct attitude. Then we went down to 1500', found the airport, and went on in. It was all over much to fast.
Today I went and got my medical certificate. The doctor is still using the equipment he bought when he got his degree, back in 1541. He checked my hearing, (not so good) my eyesight, (slightly astigmatic) my hight (69") my weight (167, oops, so embaresing) "Turn your head and cough (Very embarasing), lets check your prostate (Ultra embarasing). Everything was very much on the money.
My next lesson is tomorrow. The weather report calls for lots of clouds for late in the day. Earliest report time will be friday. My fingers and toes are all crossed that it stays nice out there.
Thu May 04, 1989 at 21:42 PDT
Tout Comprehende (? last person to speak french in my family was 350 years ago) C 'est pardoner
My CFI may cause wet dreams but she has two annoying habits <1> She wears dark wrap around aviator sunglasses so you can't see her eyes & <2> she chews gum all through the flight. After going through a collection of 180 turns which all seemed to require turning to the west (1730-1930 PDST, with the sun when seen from ground level, gently laying itself to sleep behind the verdant hills and pulling a blanket of darkness lit with thousands of night lights....) right into a glaring sun upset at its nightly toilet being observed.
We also did some climbs and descents with your correspondent at the controls. I am not familiar with the way the throttle works yet. My CFI is very calm and collected. She didn't have kittens or wig out when I pointed the nose at a church steeple and pushed in the throttle. I learned this is the wrong thing to do. The idea seems to be to maintain level flight and pull the throttle back.
Anyway two major purchases planned for next week 1 pr Wrap-around aviator sunglasses 2 cases dentine chewing gum
In ground training we discussed weight and balance (Jack Sprat sits in back, his wife sits in front) and g forces in turns. We also chatted about stability, the flight controls, airport procedures, (how to talk to the tower {Howdy tower, this here is that little blue cessna over on your right. Can I go now?} Torque, P factor, slipstream Gyro (something I will have to read over at least 10 times and still get wrong on the test. Gyro is where the air does an 90* when it hits the propeller? get out sanderson and read it again) Basic aerodynamics.
Speaking of Sanderson I am in the Meteorology chapter right now. I don't mean to criticize too much, but that book is not a page turner. It lacks anything to cause deep breathing. There is no corpse, butler to do him in, or love interest. What's the point? The most passionate thing I have seen so far is where a heavy moist warm front got on top of a cold front causing all kinds of thunder and lightning.
Sat May 13, 1989 at 20:47 PDT
I have had two more lessons, and the last lesson was flying at minimal controllable airspeed. My CFI said this is necessary for landings. We did ok, but I think we will have to have at least three more lessons before we start worrying about that.
First there is the taxi problem. I don't drive, have never driven, am not interested cars, and never want to learn. My taxi driving is something you would see on the back roads on a saturday after payday. We are going to spend an hour on the ground next wednesday learning the fundamentals of moving an airplane on the ground.
Next there is the radio problem. She gave me the radio week before last and the only coherent thing I managed to say was "This is Cessna 5318Mike."
Tower comes back "Go ahead 18 Mike" and I stare at the mike for a bit and say something like to say was "This is Cessna 5318Mike." Tower comes back "Go ahead 18 Mike." "This is 18 Mike we are burble glurble miles to the glumble west and we would like to gland with information tofu. Tower's response was COME Again?? where I froze again and the CFI takes back the radio and gets us to the airport. We are discussing the chatter that goes on the radio and the information the tower can give, that we get into the runway 17 pattern, instead of the runway 30 pattern.
This week I have a ton of reading to do on the dynamics of airplane flying, radio operations, ground controls, and stalls. Once we get into the air we do pretty well. We did turns on reference on the third lessons, mostly using clouds for references. there are lots of clouds in Oregon.
Last lesson was minimal controllable airspeed. I had gotten used to having power steering in the air. Turn the wheel (and keep the feet on the rudder, especially the right one!) and then bring it back. MCAS flight means no more power steering. Next week we visit the tower and then follow the yellow lines until the CFI is satisfied.
Mon May 15, 1989 at 20:07 PDT
In Oregon you are required to sign up with the state Aeronautics board when you start your lessons or start flying in the state. Basically a $8 charge every two years that goes to support rescue crews and publish a directory. I got the directory today and I have been looking through it. It has a B & W picture of each airport from about 6,000 AGL and a brief description of what is there, the important frequencies, what services are available there and such like.
For example Culver Lake ( 44* 31' N 121* 19' W) is 2695' above sea level. They remark that the place is unattended and that you should watch for animals on the runway. It is better to stay in pattern for a while than try to land with a billy goat in the way, especially since goat might try to argue the point.
At Sandy (45* 21' n 122* 16' W) they mention that picnicking and camping is available ON {my italics} the airport.
At Seaside you should watch for elk on the runway. (Would the FAA or the state fish and game people have jurisdiction if you shot one of the elk from the aircraft? I imagine if you had a hunting license fish and game wouldn't mind. I haven't read my FARs yet. I am sure they would have something to say about the matter.)
My CFI gave me a ton of reading on aero theory. It is better written than Sanderson. There are glimpses of humor here and there. For example in the section on stalls they mention that (not a direct quote, but it gives the flavor [i can't find it again]) "Many students have problems when practicing stalls at too low an altitude due to insufficient time to recover before ground contact." I think they would have the problem only once. if they survive the "ground contact" and the physical renewal, they will practice stalls from very hight altitudes. Next lesson on Wednesday. I am going to visit the tower and drive the poor ground person nuts. ("18Mike, please stay on the regular taxiways. Cornell road is closed to aircraft") Details of the tragedy on thursday
------------Wed May 17, 1989 at 21:34 PDT
Lesson Cancelled today because of 1) my unwillingness to walk through cats and dogs weather to the airport from the bus stop in downtown Hillsboro and 2) the flight centers unwillingness to put a learning pilot into high turbulence conditions, and 3) ditto my cfi. Next lesson ? Stay tuned, some bat time, same bat station.
------------Thu Jun 01, 1989 at 20:13 PDT
Old joke about a statistician being one who, with his head in the stove and his feet in the deep freeze pronounces that on average he is very comfortable. Yesterday was that kind of day all day. I was late to work after missing four busses, but I found a $100 bill on the sidewalk on Harbor drive. The day kept on being like that. Even unto the flying lesson.
/ ( I really did find that C Note. Shows everyone here 1)the virtues of aerobic exercise, 2) the benefits of picking up litter 3) the advantages of keeping only small bills in case anything gets lost.)
Flying time was the same way. Everything went real smooth until time to taxi. Both of us forgot the ground frequency and we sat there checking station by station for ground control before the CFI gave up and went to the office to get it. (Hillsboro ground is 121.7. I have it posted about six places around my work station. I will not forget it ever again. Neither will my CFI.) Taxi' d up to the runway without to much bother and then did the takeoff all by my lonesome. We went up to 5000' to do some more MCA practice and buzz around. I inadvertently stalled the aircraft. We did some more MCA, and then we began to deliberately stall the aircraft.
We did about 4 departure stalls, me loosing about 450' each time. Then it became a bit of "Where did you put that airport?" I was able to tell her where I was because I recognized St. Vincents Hospital. I think she wants me to be more physically aware. If I am due south of St. Vincents then HIO is off to the Northwest somewhere. and I got us in that way.
Problems we are noticing as they develop.
We had no clouds in the sky last night. There was however an incredible amount of dirt. I mentioned it to the CFI and she said it makes a nice horizon reference. I gave her a Where are coming from look. (She is from Washington. They just don't have the Oregon attitude up there.) She said "That is what you call 'Positive Attitude flying. What can't be cured can be made useful.'"
We buzzed in and the tower gave another plane (which neither of us could see) the right of way, until we told them where we were, then they switched Then some more 'improved but not great' taxiing.
------------ Fri Jun 02, 1989 at 23:42 PDT
I am tired of saying "My CFI." I don't want to give her right name on the system, so I am going to call her Robyn!
Robyn and I reviewed all the ground school material today. Density altitude,weight and balance, forces affecting the airplane, and the why and how to fix stalls. We went over radio procedures and made sure i knewthe frequencies. {parenthesis here. The way I memorized the frequencies is I took masking tape and wrote what they were and the number on the tape and then put the tape on every flat surface at my work station. I have built a reputation at work so that the boss merely gave me a 25 watt dirty look (compared to the 250's I sometimes get) when he saw "HIO ATIS 127.65 Tower 119.3 ground 121.7" written in huge letters and taped everywhere. There was no place you could look (I even asked if I could put a tape on the girl next machine over's shirt front {she wears a D cup I think} because that gets stared at a lot but she just turned her head and walked away) without knowing what hillsboro's frequencies were.)
While I was doing the preflight Robyn and the manager were installing headsets. I tried them in Seattle and I disliked them there. After this flight I have developed no deeper affection for them. I think Robyn likes them because she doesn't have to shout herself hoarse to be heard over the engine. I don't mind talking that loud because that is the normal tone of voice in our family.
I did most of the Radio transmission tonight. Tower had no problem
understanding me once I remembered to push the transmit button as I talked.
I did my fourth takeoff at the controls. This was better than the one in Seattle, but the worst one Robyn has seen. She wants right rudder? I gave her some right rudder! I also had my feet too high on the pedals. we had some time building up airspeed until that problem was corrected. Both of the other times I went down the line like a coke head. This time Nancy Reagan was watching. Moi? just say no time.
This was another review day. We did more MCA, strait flight, turns at steady altitude. Then we did power on Stalls which went very nice. Then Robyn demonstrated we could fly at steady altitude even though we were stalled. Then we did some approach stalls. I managed to do most of my stalls without loosing to much altitude, but I still lost 200' or so on the approach stalls. Something that needs more work.
Something new. Robyn pulled the power off and told me "OK you have just had an engine failure. Now what do you do?" {we had covered this in pre flight training} I went looking for a place to land, found one and told her I had one. She began telling me what to do for trouble shooting. While she did that I went past my turn on my field, so we went around and tired in from the wrong wind way, and I missed it again. Next review, turns on Reference again.
Back to the airport. You don't see me doing it, but I like talking with my hands. She asked me how I was going to find the airport and I was explaining it with an untrimmed plane and wide gestures ("There is Mt St. Helens, there is Mt. Hood, There is St. Vincints Hospital, basically I am going to follow I-5 to the 217 interchange and then go le...") all of the sudden she grabs the yoke and pushes it down very hard and then pulls up. I bounce off the roof and she tells me very sweetly to keep control of the plane while I am flying. Pay attention when you are 2500' in the air.
I keep better control of the plane and find the airport with no problem. I give the tower wrong information, but that is easily fixed. I got the plane to the approach and she landed us.
Grievance time. They raised the rental $3 an hour today because of the huge jump in oil prices. That is going to hurt.
Nature notes: I have been doing some constructive bird watching this past while. Mostly I have been watching the pigeons in the park and on the bridge. They have neat ways of landing and turning. The way they turn around the bridge they raise one wing very high and keep the other one level. They just whip around. Their landing is taking the wing and turning it 75*, essentially stalling and then dropping vertically onto Abe Lincoln's head. Lots of bird watching to be done around HIO. I have noticed some red wing blackbirds and some geese this past week. Also a very small woodpecker. It makes a change from pigeons.
------------Sat Jun 03, 1989 at 20:33 PDT
Today was again taking what we had and building. In my other cyber - existence I attend the programmers sigs. There is a little story there about how a computer programmer would build a wall. The way you do it is first lay a line of bricks along the ground, put mortar on top, and then build a wall on top of that. Well, how do you build a wall? You put a layer of bricks on the mortar, slightly offset to the previous bricks, put mortar on those bricks, and then build yourself a wall on top of it. Cyber folk are really into something called recursion. And that is the recursive method for building walls.
Actual flying today, as it does every day, went too fast. I did a Hollywood takeoff (Keeping the nose strait along the white line), climbed up to 1700, right turn, up to 2200, right turn and then I was heading on south. We did a pair of turns on reference. (Mt Hood makes an excellent reference.) Then we did two each power on and power off stalls. Then we took ourselves to some nice and isolated spot, got 5000' up and did todays main lesson.
spins
According to Robyn the FAA no longer requires spins, but she thinks they are something useful to know, just to prove to yourself that you can get out of them. She only shows them if the student is willing and then only 3 hours after a meal. My attitude (still slightly nose high, and kind of sniffy) is I want every single bit she can show me to keep me safe and out of the obituary column. If a spin is a remote possibility I am big on knowing how to recover.
Spinning is accomplished by doing the following silly things. First you power way back, hold on to the nose to keep altitude, and when the stall happens you kick in one of the rudders like Mrs. O'Leary's cow going for best distance on a lantern. The plane turns onto a wing and then points the nose at a cow chewing its contented cud on a hillside and then revolves around the propeller. Robyn let it go round twice. Then recovery.
Which gives me intellectual traumas. The books and Robyn both have hammered the fact that a stall happens at any attitude and any speed, and the way you recover is lower the nose, push in power, straiten the wings, and go for strait and level. OK. I am now heading right at that cow. My nose can't get any lower right? low is down, right? Wrong. We push in the yoke, straiten the wings, and slowly pull out. (That cow was beginning to feel nervous, but now I am no longer aimed at her she is contented again. She is, however, moving under a tree.) Robyn did it twice, We did it twice, and then I did it with a lot of help, if you see what I mean. I have now had my fill of spins. Incidentally I skipped breakfast this morning. Wise decision?
We had to have the plane back by 2230Zulu We finished my last ever spin (aviagods be willing) and so I set a course of 340 on the gyrocompass and set in for some nice strait and level while we discussed what I had learned. Robyn kept looking at the top of the plane like she does when she wants me to notice something painfully obvious. While we are tooling around looking for landmarks we come across an asphalt runway. We discuss how you figure out which runway you are at by visual. I mention in passing we are flying parallel to runway 17.
She peers around and says "That's McMinville, and we are over runway 17. How are the runways marked, Steven?"
{a slight pause here while I look for the tricky part of this question}
"Magnetically in the direction of flight."
"What is our heading?"
"340"
"That is runway 17. Do you think the folks that run McMinville have a practical sense of humor?"
{another long pause while I think that one over}
"yes, they do" I then point at the gyrocompass and look at the magnetic compass. They don't agree at all. It is now time to fix the gyrocompass.
Now we go to a 340 heading and back to strait and level flight. Robyn gets out the sectional and we discuss dead reckoning and basic navigation using the sectional maps. We also spend some time chatting about forces affecting the instruments and the relative amounts of faith to put into them. Our spins have totally turned around the gyrocompass. Something to remember. The plane has two ways of finding out any bit of information you need. it is a good idea to check on both and regulate them against each other
I get us into the pattern and most of the way down and she gets us on the ground. and to the flight center. We get the Hobbs time recorded and the plane tied down, and head in. I forgot my logbook and I go back to get it. The plane is gone, but there is a pumpkin on the asphalt. Never did find the logbook.
Mon Jun 05, 1989 at 22:56 PDT
Today I broke down and bought a pair of wrap around sunglasses. It is the first time I have worn any in 25 years. The world is suddenly an odd shade of orange. Some colors are more intense, some are totally off the wall, and some are washed away. Robyn thinks it was a good idea. They bothered me all during my flight. However, the sun didn't
This was a blessing as today we did 90* turns around an alfalfa field and turns around a point The sun didn't bother me one bit. However the turns did
The point of the exercise is not to get blown off the field, or onto it. I am going to be doing these for a while longer. I have read up on these manouvers, but somehow my reading doesn't convince my hands or my feet.
After the turns around the field we did turns around a point. The first point was a quonset hut. I managed to do two 360*'s around it before we had to recover altitude. Then I did three more around a red barn before we had to go to the next point, an oak tree in the middle of a strawberry field. That time I did very well. We did six laps around it with very little problem. The FAA might look askance, but I felt a tremendous improvement. Then it was homeward bound.
Most of my work has been at 3,4 or 5000'. Today we spent our time at 800 AGL. I could see how fast we were going a lot better than I could at 5000' I could see the farmers on their tractors, the irrigation sprays, the swimming pools ("Hey! She aint wearnin nuttin!") and see the ground as more than merely something to avoid.
Another lesson is just how much (to paraphrase Gertrude Stein) there there is out there. Riding around in a car, or on a bus the world becomes little more than horizon wide strips of factories, shopping malls, burger kings, and gas stations. These last two trips have expanded my horizons in more ways than one. I have seen just how little I know of the place I have spent 28 years in. It didn't take much to loose all my normal visual references last Saturday. ( I should have been suspicious of having Mt. Hood on my left as I was supposedly heading north.) there is a great big world out there, but there is also one here, and I missed it.
Thu Jun 08, 1989 at 19:48 PDT
Portland is having it's usual gorgeous weather the week before Rose festival. If this is a year like any other it will be this way until Friday night. Then it will begin raining wildcats and St. Bernard dogs on Saturday, Parade day. In the meantime we have had 80* days with high cirrus clouds and no wind as I practice my S turns, my turns around a point, and turns around a rectangular field.
This lesson exposed a lot of problems I have allowed to develop. It is now time to put them into the fixer. Working close the the ground is making them more obvious, the problem being I need to snap the habits before we reach too low. problems to fix before we go any further:
Taking stock after 13.6 hours and 11 times in the air I have done:
MCA's, a complete stall series, turns around a point, turns around a field, S turns around a road. I have done the major work on 7 takeoffs.
This flight was a review of all flight so far. It got off to a inauspicious beginning. The person in line in front of us for takeoff did his preflight runup strait on instead of at 90* to the taxiway, which is the usual way at Hillsboro. We had to wait for him to go onto the runway before I could be sure we wouldn't get clobbered in his propwash. I then turned us 120* before we did ours. This meant we had to go all the way around before we got to the line. I did the takeoff, and we went around to the south and did our S turns over a golf course.
Robyn expects me to know exactly where that airport is at all times. She is able to look out the window and point at a bit of ground haze and say with absolute authority "There is the runway." I am not sure until I get lots closer to it. Monday is time for Review. Maybe by Wednesday I might be doing a landing.
I may not live that long. I showed Robyn what I have been writing about her. She hadn't had time to read it by the time I left, but by now she may be sharpening her knives. She has always been after me to learn the fine points. She may show me some new ones. Stay Tuned Some bat time, same bat station.
Mon Jun 12, 1989 at 22:58 PDT
Today we did touch and goes. We did 5 of them, the last one I totally freaked on. It was up, over, downwind (There was no wind, but it has a name) base, final. Robyn is big on doing safety checks on pattern entry, so every time we went around we did a "Gas, Mixture, seat belts and Safety" check.
Sun Jun 18, 1989 at 19:15 PDT
(The light fades, the shadows lengthen, the robins and larks take one last flight and check that no wandering worm has been missed before they turn in. The stratus clouds turns orange and pink as the sun nestles in behind the coast range for its evening rest. There is a rustle of leather wings as once again der Fledermouse checks his radar and navaids for an evening's education in the high adrenalin art of flying)
Today, because of a scheduling snafu I was unable to get a C-152. I therefore had the option of waiting an hour for one to arrive, or to rent a C-172 instead. So I did the sensible thing and got a check out on the 172.
The 172 had a wildly different dashboard with several new navaids, and a spare radio that caused more frustration than provided any help. It also had a different cowling, which is what I spend most of my time looking at when I am checking my attitude.
We did MCA, Stalls, an emergency, and back to the airport.
For the emergency we found an airport and did a pattern and a flyover. On the way down Robyn demonstrated the drag effects of opening a window. Over the runway Robyn's window opened up with a bang. It wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't startled me through the roof and if it hadn't opened where we were. The airport was a private restricted place, and right at the very far end of runway 17 was Forest Grove's municipal sewage plant. I have come across sweeter perfumes.
Robyn says that from now on she is going to spring more and more emergencies on me. There are all kinds of places and times an emergency can happen, and I should be prepared for all of them. According to her most emergencies are the result of trying to fly Seattle to LA on one tank of gas, two Ava Marias and a paternoster.
I still have no Idea how Robyn manages to find that airport. My mental Gyrocompass wants to put it several miles to the west of where it belongs.
Yesterday morning we did seven touch and goes. It was a collection of everything we have done over the last two months. 90* turns, takeoff, landing, rectangular pattern, and stall. Since yesterday was the first day we had a wind in three weeks the pattern looked less rectangular then rhomboid. The small end (sigh) was where downwind turned into final. (Whatever happened to base you may ask? I don't know, it was around here somewhere)
I know I am not stupid. (no comments from the peanut gallery, please.) I have diplomas from Kindergarten, grammar school, and the local polytechnic. I even have three years of college. I can learn, I have done it before.
For some reason touch and goes can't get beyond the the concrete. I still do the same things over and over. We do takeoff, climb out anywhere from 65 to 75 knots, [Vy is 70] climb to 900, where I either just turn, or I wiggle the wings for a bit and turn on reference (a cow, a semi going down the sunset highway, a passing 747) or just turn right and watch the gyrocompass roll over to 40*. By now I am at pattern altitude. Another turn, lower the nose and zip downwind, carb Heat at midfield, and at the numbers I finally notice I am still at full power. Lower throttle down to 17, 10* Flaps, and turn base. This is where Robyn always has a fit. I keep making turns with a high nose. Our airspeed is now 65ktl. Turn final (here I never do nose high, I don't know why I only do it on base turns but I do it every base turn) and line up the runway. Which keeps moving off to the right. I have to keep chasing it. We finally get down to about 270 feet, which is where I want to flare. Something that bothers Robyn. (field elevation at HIO is 204') I have yet to land that plane by myself.
You notice I have said nothing about trimming. I haven't been. We did four touch and goes and then went and did trim practice. We will be doing more on Saturday.
When I was walking to the airport this evening I was surprised at how little activity there was. Usually there are several planes doing pattern work plus the normal takeoffs and landings. there was nothing happening at all tonight. I was even more surprised when I got there and saw two fire trucks, a rescue helicopter, an ambulance and a police car parked in our taxiway. I turned the corner of the building just in time to see a Cessna land without a nose wheel. The plane stopped, and all the emergency vehicles went zipping down to get in on the action. Fortunately they were all disappointed. The pilot walked away, and there was no fire. I slowed down on preflight tonight, and payed very close attention to the nosewheel.
Postflight we discussed what needs attention. Lots of stuff. Trim, Low altitude turns, division of attention, altitude maintenance. Saturday we will do two touch and goes, and then do review. Then two more touch and goes. Meanwhile I see solo flight fading ever farther into the southern horizon...
Another problem I have: How do you know enough to ask a question? I am doing preflight and postflilght with Robyn and there are times I am at a loss even to know what question to ask.
Friday evening we did five more touch and goes. I still have yet to land by myself, but I am getting closer all the the time. The weather yesterday morning had a brisk 14 mile wind at 160* or thereabouts. They changed active during my second round so I got a bit of crosswind practice.
We got a strange instruction from the tower. We were doing final when we got an instruction to "fly over final" Robyn got on the the radio and asked if he wanted us to do a go round. The controller said "No, fly around final and come back in." Meanwhile he had given another plane clearance to takeoff. I got to watch a very good takeoff from about 800' above and 1/2 mile back. The controller noticed where we are and told us to do a slow go round at this point. Back at the flight center the CFIs talked it over and decided the controller thought we were still on base when he gave that instruction. I wonder what the guy doing the takeoff felt when he looked behind him and saw me puttering along behind him
I have had 17 lessons, have gone up and down 34 times, and I have 20.5 hours in so far. I will report any progress if it happens.
------------ Mon Jul 03, 1989 at 21:41 PDT
Today I did 9 more goes, and robyn did 9 more touches. Total hours 21.6. I can see a lot of progress these past three sessions so the frustration level has gone way down. A problem that I started today was pulling back on the throttle on the way down. (I keep my hand there, and as we go down so do the RPMs) This means I am trying to land the airplane in the middle of the shopping center across 24th St. from the airport.
I found a couple of interesting books at Powell's this weekend. (My first excursion into the aviation section of that landmark) The first "Fair Weather Flying"" by Richard Taylor is very entertaining. I think is has even been helpful as I had less communication trouble with the tower. Robyn likes more verbiage than Mr. Taylor recommends, but not much more. The other neat book Is put out by Flying Magazine and was called "I learned About Flying From That." It is a collection of hair raising stories about students first experiences with wake turbulence and the speed at which IFR weather can move in on you.
Sat Jul 08, 1989 at 21:07 PDT
Today is a day that I will laugh at, sometime in the future. Not for at least a week, and maybe a year will pass before I recall July 8 with anything but a shudder. (If you are wondering if I did something horrible to the airplane, you are in for a disappointment. That went pretty well)
I used to work for a place called Saturday Market. This is a local arts fair that takes place in Portland's old town every weekend between March and Christmas. We got a new site boss (referred to among us site people as Herr Graf von Hindenberg because he is very big around, slow moving, full of hot air, & is a famous disaster.) and after dealing with the guy for three months I up and quit. Since then I have been working for various vendors, booth sitting, helping out here and there, and making a general pest of myself as usual. Right after I quit I got signed on to help set up a booth this weekend. I figured I could get it set up by 6:30 and be at the airport by eight. It only takes the guy I would be helping 17.562 minutes to do it by himself, and I gave myself 45 minutes to be on the safe side. (Where was he? He was doing a fair in Eugene, in the next sectional south) He had shown me how it was done, and it looks so simple. More dangerous words are never spoken. At 7:00 I asked Ron, one of the vendors, if they could give me a ride to the airport when I got done. He said sure. I then spent another 40 minutes struggling, and finally success was in my grasp. I put on the last touches, showed it off to the boothsitter (who had come 10 minutes before and had actully got the show on the road) and ran to Ron's booth.
Ron was gone.
The upshot was I had to race up to the bus stop. I called the flight center on my way and told them I was going to be seriously late. I got to the bus stop just in time to see the tail lights of the bus fade as it went off on its merry way to Forest Grove, without me. The next bus would leave in half an hour. I did some reading. I did some swearing. I kicked the bus shelter once. I spent some time hopping up and down on one foot.
The bus came at long last. On the bus, and now on to Hillsboro. It was now 8:30. I knew by now I would be late for my 8:00 appointment.
The bus ride to Hillsboro takes 65 minutes, each of them flowing over the dam as swiftly as mollasas. Each grain of sand through the glass took its time and smelled the roses along the way.
We arrived in Hillsboro right on schedule. 9:35, and now the best part of the trip. The half hour walk to the airport. I usually spend the time walking, observing the flight traffic, the clouds, the flags on top the shopping mall, the birds; If I am early I watch an inning of Little League baseball. There is an abandoned house that never ceases to give me a chuckle, as the Addams family lived there. Walking is healthy, good for the cardiovascular system, and is a good time to do some contemplation of the universe. Life hands you a lemon, make lemonade. Positive attitude flight will keep you in equilibrium. Lord knows I needed it.
I arrived bright and early for my 8:00 appointment at 10:10. The secretary gave a large hello and said I would have a different CFI today, as Robyn had called right after I had hung up and left a message. Her car was dead as Marley, as a doornail, as Ceasar. She was stranded in Wilsonville, a mere 20 Knots away, and no bus service.
Today's CFI, I Ingrid will her call, is a german lady of about 32-35 . We used headsets, and after dealing with the speaker on the last flight I almost liked it.
After this things began to improve. I had a review lesson. We did some MCA, a short stall series, and then four traffic patterns. Same problem as always, but this time I did two landings, very bumpy landings.
Not a lot about flying today. Sorry about that. This lesson went just like all the last five have gone. I am enjoying the flights. The hills, the roads, the fields with the irrigation sprays. The feeling I am up with the angels is still there. I have reached the point where I can pick out chopsticks on the aviation piano, and as far as I have gone I see that much farther I have to go. Getting it down is a matter of push, push, practice,practice. I see my goal, I keep my eyes on it, and if it is still far away, each step I take brings it into clearer view.
Mon Jul 10, 1989 at 21:51 PDT
Of the nine landings we did tonight, I am not going to discuss numbers 1 or 8, because she did those two, nor am I going to go into details on number 2, when Robyn just let me loose and I dribbled the plane down the runway in a manner which would be admired all over the NBA. (I now have a great deal more sympathy for a basketball. I have been there.) Number 7 was a learning experience. I don't want to repeat it. The landing I want to concentrate on is number 3. I wish I had a video camera record that one. Probably all the video flight schools wish the same. A gentle crosswind from the west; a cross control landing I did by myself lined up perfectly with the runway, a gentle flare starting at the chevrons, a drop exactly on the upper end of the 0 at runway 30, a Hollywood takeoff to finish it off.
A confession I maybe ought to make to Robyn, but haven't yet. I am sure she knows anyway. The last 40-50' of the landing kill me. I am relaxed on the way up, exhilarated when I feel the plane separate, when I see the lines on the pavement sink below me, when I see the cars shrink as If I left them too long in the hot water it is all I can do to keep from bouncing in the seat. The last bit in makes me absolutely soggy with sweat. Like all flight instructors she wants me to flare gently. I Know all of you went through it, but when I see that asphalt come at me that fast and that close I want to pull that yoke and hold it tight. I know what will happen when I do that.
Something I have known all along is controlling the airplane is a piece of cake. It doesn't want to do anything stupid. Controlling myself is the hard part.
We were both very pleased with how today went. With the exception of number seven I was smart all the way down, and number 8 showed I still am heading behind the power curve, but I caught it before she did, but it made me to freaked to land so I gave it to her myself that time. I will have the memory of #3 forever...and the memory of #s 2,7, and 8 to keep me from being insufferable.
Wed Jul 12, 1989
at 22:37 PDT
The temperature today at 4:30 was 85, the winds were at 160 gusting at 11 Ktl. We discussed traffic patterns and then 11 did of them. First we did four on runway 12, and when the wind shifted to 270 we did 7 more on runway 30. I did two very bumpy ones while Ingrid kept her hands in her lap, the rest I did with help. Ingrid spent most of the evening trying to convince me to get closer to the ground. We did one go-round at what must have been one or two feet off the runway. Apologies to Ingrid and Robyn, but I am not yet at the point where I can be comfortable at that altitude. I am afraid I will have to keep doing pattern work until I get that assurance.
Sat Jul 22, 1989
at 01:23 PDT
It is now later, and time for last night's details. Everyone here familiar with the work of some russian dude named Leo Tolstoy? The first sentence in his book "Anna Karenina" is "Happy families are all alike, unhappy families are unhappy each in their own way." Or to quote King Arthur's brother Mordred "Ye good things are deadly dull." In a word their are no details. Each turn was perfect, the plane touched and rolled down the runway like a croquet ball on a perfect pitch and the takeoffs and upwind (ok, a wrong name, I just like it better) legs were just like the books said.
(someone get a shovel.....
....It is getting too deep and high in here)
I almost cancelled out last night. There were great puffy clouds laying all over the sky, dark gray on the bottom as if they had been left in axle grease overnight. There was a great grey monster parked between me and the airport, just waiting for me to get out of the bus to dump gallon upon gallon of water on my unprepared head, the weather was as muggy as Central Park and the sunrise this morning had featured clouds in pink rows like ham lined up on a plate. I called the FSS for an excuse. They didn't have one. Instead they had lots of enthusiasm. Ceiling would be high, clouds scattered here and there but breaking up, perfect weather for everything but hunting worms.
On the way in I tried to guess the wind direction. It was in from the north, the flag at Burger King flowing gently over the playground as I passed by. I noticed the traffic was using runway 30. I watched some touch and goes.
In the cockpit the asphalt comes at me very fast and steep, or so it seems. The planes landing all scoot in shallow. We put in flaps to increase the angle of decent, which is shallow enough as it from what I see, what must descents have looked like in the days before flaps is staggering.
We went up, checked for runway drift, turned to correct, turned to far to correct, or rather I went up and did all these things. She just chewed gum and watched the scenery.
One of the awful things that she has been trying to cure is my tendency to make a crystal pattern. A pointy end where crosswind and base should be. We fixed that today. After the sixth landing we came to a full stop and discussed the reason for these strange looking patterns. The problem was I was getting to wrapped up in ground references. We fixed that on landings 7 & 8.
One thing she is still doing is talking to tower during the pattern. She wants me to listen to what is happening and to identify traffic when I see it. There was a lot of it. There were five of us in the regular pattern plus one more guy doing crosswind touch and goes, who we also had to look out for. We had to do three goofy maneuvers: A 360 turn in the downwind, and two extended downwinds, one of over five miles. Robyn likes a nice tight pattern. The guy in front of us for most of the night liked extra long downwinds, so we had to do it his way, even though on one occasion we could have landed in front of him he took it so far. Then there were the two jets that landed. Not the kind of quiet night where it is just Robyn, Me, a couple of ducks doing touch and goes in a nearby pond, and the tower controller.
August 2, 1989
Last night the flight center's four Cessnas were all down. One had a shot magneto, one had a cracked cylinder, one had its hundred hours and one was in Seattle for a wedding. So instead we took off in a Grumman trainer.
The Grumman has short thick low wings, is painted grey, has a picture of a Lynx on the tail and stars on the wheels. The roof pulls back and you step in through the top.
Climb attitude is a lot shallower than in the Cessnas, but the rate of climb is a lot faster. We got up to 2500' and headed southwest.
It has been a soggy week. Parades of clouds have marched across the sky, some long and sinuous; some tall, stately and dignified. Above the mountains to the south there are oval clouds that just hang out and watch their great cousins march across the sky, great white battleships sheparded by small grey wispy tugs.
When I got to the airport it was in the center of a great blue charmed circle. As we flew we passed beside one great tall cloud We spent five minutes going by each other, the cloud self important ignored the folks in the little plane except to give the wing a small push up on his way by. Below us passed his grey familiars scooting along in case their services were required by the great one.
We settled in by henry Hagg lake and did our checkout maneuvers. Some MCA, a stall, turns. We climbed up to 3500 and headed northeast. As we passed over a field I said I thought that would be a good place for an emergency landing. Robyn then immediately pulls the power and says "Ok, get me there." By now we were directly over the field, but I did a nice little pattern and we came in a little high, a little fast, but reachable.
We then went in, tied down, I paid for the flight, said my goodbys, and walked off the airport, down Cornell road watching the sunbeams show between the clouds, admiring the rainbow trailing off into Lake Oswego
Wednesday I called up the Portland tower and asked if I could visit sometime soon. They said Thursday at 5:30 was agreeable to them. 5:30 Thursday afternoon found me at the white courtesy telephone trying to find the tower.
Portland International is like every big city airport. They began building it in the late '40s, and if they are lucky it will be finished just this side of infinity. It is set up right next to the Columbia River at the very north end of 82nd avenue. There are Three runways, 2/20 and the ILS Runways 10L/25R which is 8000' and 10R/28L which is 11000'. 2/20 is about 100' west of 10l and crosses 10r/28l at midfield. Last night they were using runways 28. The tower at sits in the same place it has always been through phase after phase of construction. It is just over the lobby with tinted windows leaning out as they go up. On top of the tower is a great grey geodesic ball.
The white courtesy phone gave me instructions on where I was supposed to go. First stop, the Radar Control room on the third floor.
The Radar room is kept almost dark enough to develop black and white prints. There are four Radar screens along one wall, three of which had operators on duty. The man in charge was busy, so he plopped me down in front of the open screen gave me a monitoring phone, and went to do a chore. The phone scanned the tower, departure, and north approach frequencies.
The radar screen is just like the movies. It is about a foot in diameter, and there is an amber line revolving clockwise about twice a second around the screen. Every time the line goes around whatever is moving jumps position. What is fancier than the movies is almost all the blips are labels. The blips had an arrow, and identifier and long series of numbers and letters which changed back and forth between formats. I spent 10 minutes just watching the planes buzz round while waiting for help on decoding.
The head of the office came back and showed me the numbers. Some planes were mere horizontal blips. These were the ones without transponders. There were small squares going hither and thither. The controller was able to move his cursor over one and turn it into a big blip, which was a series of letters and numbers that identified who was in charge of him, (Newberg, North Approach, South Approach, or Final), VFR or IFR, Aircraft ID Destination, Altitude if he had Mode C, heading & Ground speed in Knots. For example there was a Cessna 172 not using radar service flying VFR from HIO to Kelso, WA, at 3000' on a heading of 290* going 75 KTL He appeared as just a little square on the screen until he was singled out. Then He appeared as "Z C-172 LSO 30 2975"
(My apologies to those who know better. I have forgotten the right numbers for IFR and VFR flight.)
One of the features of the radar screen is it has lines going from the airport with a circle about halfway along the line. There were two lines going from PDX, one from HIO, and one from Newberg. The circle is the Middle Marker. What any of this means is still as far beyond me as the middle marker is from the airport, which is pretty far.
After he finished his explanation, he called up the tower and got me permission to visit there.
The Portland tower had four people in it when I got there. There was The departure controller, the ground controller, and the Tower Controller, plus one other lady whose main concern was finishing a slice of cherry pie when I came up. After I arrived another controller showed up with a large container of Coffee mate. The controllers rotated jobs around twice while I was up there.
I arrived just in time to see an incident happen. The tower controller lost visual on a Comanche while bringing in an Alaska Airlines jet. The Comanche then proceeded to land on the wrong runway, right in front of the Alaska flight. The Controller was standing there with her binoculars looking off into the haze and asking the Comanche to report his position. When the Alaska flight came down the captain must have told the controller where the comanche was. He was sitting in front of the taxiway with the Alaska plane right behind him. The controller on standby having finished her cherry pie relieved the control chief on ground duty. He then got out a bright cherry piece of card stock and wrote up the incident. When Coffee mate came in Departure took over tower control and the crew chief and the first tower controller went downstairs to discuss the incident. While they were there one of the pilots involved called the tower to explain.
The differences between operations at Hillsboro and Portland were entirely of scale. Portland had a larger kitchen, went through more coffee mate, had blueberry muffins instead of peanut butter cookies and There was one person doing departure and another doing ground, where at Hillsboro the ground person did both jobs. The procedures were the same. Departure got the information from the pilot and wrote it down on a little card. When he was done he passed the card to the ground controller who assigned the pilot a runway, and got him over there. When the plane was at the active the ground person passed the card over to the tower person who sent the plane off. In addition to the cards the tower controller had a note pad where she kept a list of who was in the air coming in where. The major difference in the towers was Portland had a pair of radar screens.
I had a nice ten minutes watching the traffic. Most of the planes going out were cargo trips, two UPS and one Emerey. Alaska Airlines brought three planes in, a Cessna took off for Astoria IFR...
I said my thank yous and took my departure.
Today I had yet another flying lesson. Before I start, lets change the music. Going to toss all my blues records in the trash. Time for some Ludwig von B. 9th Symphony. Maestro.
I arrived ten minutes early, and went out to preflight immediately. When Robyn arrived I was just finishing. We got in the plane and chatted over what happened at Portland Tower last thursday. The main lesson being if the controller gives you a dippy instruction (To err is human) the proper response is either "come again" or "Sorry I can't do that, may I have another clearance." If his instruction will put you into a cloud it is the pilot's responsibility to set him right.
We went up to 3000', did some turns that averaged out at 45║ (Some were 30║, and some were 60║. The next goal is to get the standard deviation down.) Then we checked ATIS, we were still using Quebec. Then it was four touch and goes. Then we did a full stop, and went over to the West Parking area. On the way Robyn Explained in detail what she wanted. I was to do three landings to a full stop, and then come back and pick her up. She wanted my Radio communications to be more like my early landings, low and slow. She talked all the way. Even when the plane came to a full stop she didn't. She took the logbook and the worn and tattered medical certificate signed it, and hopped out of the airplane. A V sign and she disappeared behind a hanger.
I turned up the radio and listened to the ground traffic. When they finished I began the process of hyperventilating and pushed the transmitter.
"Hillboro ground this is Cessna 714RomeoKilo, Student pilot, first solo at west parking, with information Romeo."
"4RomeoKilo, are you sure you are at west parking? I can't see you."
I thought "What is the matter with HIM! I know where I am, does he know where he is?" I gave the transmitter a push. "Hillsboro ground, this is 4RK. I am right below you."
"4RomeoKilo, I couldn't see you through the hanger. Proceed to Runway 30, hold short on Runway 2."
"4RomeoKilo."
I went down the taxiways, down the center of the taxiways. Following the yellow lines I sang a couple of choruses of "Wer'e off to see the wizard." Before I reached runway 2 I was given clearance to zip right across, and after acknowledging the instruction I did so. On my way to the runway I fell in behind a blue tail dragger. He must have either got takeoff clearance at the ramp or not bothered with it because he didn't stop at the holding lines. He just up and went. II Stopped at the lines and got clearance. Which came very quickly. Every step of the way I talked my way through the procedures. "Ok, here is the runway, line the nose up just like a record producer, there nice and strait, power, rudder, rudder, and more rudder, 55ktl, and rotate." Here is where it became obvious I was alone. The plane usually takes its time getting off the deck. (she is a very petit lady who weighs nothing...in theory)..this time it was if someone had pulled a string. Another difference was I got to the altitude where I usually turn before I ran out of runway beneath me.
Have I mentioned Hillsboro has right patterns? This means before I Make a turn I have to lean far forward to see around Robyn and find out what is out there. This time it was just a quick glance out the window. I didn't have time to think about how I was watching the pattern and the traffic, I was just busy doing it. I just did my basic pattern and did it by the numbers. I talked each step through, and between steps I hummed whatever tune seemed to fit the moment. The Blue tail dragger had vanished into the horizon after getting a raspberry from the tower and so I was alone in the pattern, even the ducks on the pond if front of the Intel plant, realizing their best interests, stayed out of my solo.
Ah the landing. Nothing to Brag about, but not one to cause the ELT to go off either.
Next time around was just as lonely, but a landing I will brag about.
I had asked my sister to loan me her video camera, she didn't want to and now I wish she had. I wanted that one on tape. By the time I got to the Holding lines for the third takeoff traffic had suddenly increased. I told the tower what I wanted to do and she told me to hold short for landing traffic. The traffic landed and I waited for clearance. And waited. And waited. Just as I was picking up the microphone to remind them I was there I got my clearance and I went on in, and took off. This time there were lots of folks coming in. Unfortunately I never saw the guy in front of me. The tower controller Asked me to reply when I had traffic, and I never did. At last the controller told me to turn base, I came in and landed, went back to the west parking area and saw a lady waiting for me. I stopped the plane and asked "Hey, lady, need a lift?"
Thu Aug 31, 1989
at 19:46 PDTHave any of you noticed that the moment you began your flying lessons everyone and his brother already has a pilot's licence? Three people at Saturday Market and two bus drivers I know of have licenses. A third bus driver is just starting his stall series. Several other passengers gave us odd looks as we discussed doing the stalls. He has as much of a problem with them as I did.
Monday the 21st of august was vfr, but not very good vfr. We were supposed to have gone to McMinville, but Robyn decided to do pattern work with me instead. Visibility was 10 miles, but that was in periodic rain showers, one of which parked itself right on the final approach. Crosswinds came from both sides of the runway. After an hour of this we parked the plane and did our postflight as a light rain pattered on the roof of the plane. I paid the bill and began the walk to the bus stop and watched the sun poke through, and by the time I was on the bus the clouds were all heading east painted red by the setting sun.
Walking home gave me a cold. There was no lesson on Wednesday. Monday was the Saturday market Picnic. They had chicken on the grill, lemonade, and several different kinds of salad. There was also a volleyball net, and I played in about 6 games. Tuesday Morning I woke up barely able to move. Wednesday was little better. I couldn't bend down, I couldn't stand up, I couldn't flex several muscles without their reminding me I had abused them, and they didn't want to co operate any more. I did pre flight oh so very slowly. Shut my eyes and bend on my knee to check the control wires to the Empanage, down on both knees to take off the back chain. Then (ouch) up again, over to the wing and check the flaps and aerlerons, but then came the time to check the fuel. That happened even more slowly. How is the landing strut? Bend over (Ahhh...) and check it out.
We had a new airplane last night. Robyn says there are lots of planes without radios. This one tried to even out the average. As always when we get a new plane there is a long time while we try and figure out the communications gear.
Last night we did our first cross country to an uncontrolled airport. Robyn's terrestrial job is working in the finance department of a construction firm. End of the month is kind of hectic for her. Lesson tonight started at 6:30 instead of the usual 5:00.
McMinnville is 23 Miles South south west of Hillsboro. After takeoff we went due south looking for landmarks on the way. The first was the Newberg VOR station. This sits on the top of a crescent shaped mountain with a gentle slope on the north side, and a steep scarp on the south side. There were farms and developments on the north, but the south was all timber. The station is tall, white, and the design has lots of interesting Freudian implications. Around it at evenly spaced intervals are little white things that look like signboards.
The next checkpoint was where the Willamete bends way to the west. directly due west is the airport.
A gentleman name of VonClauswitz has one remark in the quotation books. "The map is not the terrain." There is a great difference between a blue line on the map, and a green river between the trees seen at an oblique angle.
The map insists that the valley floors are deep green and the higher altitudes are lighter greens or browns. That is not the way of Oregon in August. The hay has just been brought in, and all the fields are a light tan, on the sectional they would be between 7000 9000. The hills are all an intense green you don't see on the map, but the map colors them yellow.
McMinnville is a lot more impressive from a higher altitude. Up close the runways are lots shorter than what I am used to. The airport has runways 22 and 17 coming together at a point, with a long taxiway running between the thresholds of runways 4 and 34. Runway 22 has a bunch of lights running up to it that flash in sequence heading into the field, where they meet a strip of green lights at the threshold.
We came in over the airport and checked out the windsock, crossed the runway, and did some touch and goes. Unicom was closed, and the only other traffic on our frequency was at Estacada more than 30 miles away. We still told whoever was out there what we were doing. After four touch and goes, I did two solo touch and goes. I still bounced hard each landing. I picked Robyn up and we talked over the pilot controlled light system.
After playing with the lights we began emergency procedures at the airport. We were up at 200 feet when Robyn pulled the power. The next try we got up to 700' when she pulled it again. It cost us 500' to get back to the strip before we were even lined up for going the wrong way. Then she demoed a pair of short field takeoffs. After all this it was time to back to Hillsboro, in the dark.
I think she was counting on my loosing myself again. The Gyrocompass had processed about 30* and if I had followed that I would have wound up in Gresham, or at Troutdale. Instead I knew what the area looked like, and I flew to Portland's Antenna farm instead of on a heading. About 15 miles out I noticed a flashing beacon, and mentioned it, and that is the beacon at Hillsboro. A long final on what looked like a far shorter runway, and then a very nice job of taxi ing through a maze of blue lights.
Unfortunately night flight through rural districts isn't what I thought it should look like. It was just like going through a darkened room with just enough lights from outside to see that it was the chair you tripped over, instead of the table with the picture of uncle Burt in his National Guard uniform. One of the things she promised we would do is fly over my house. That will have to wait a while, because I live under the General Aviation pattern for PDX.
Thu Sep 07, 1989
at 19:48 PDT
Last night during preflight we discussed short field, grass field and fields with the "standard 50' FAA tree." On Short field takeoffs she likes to set up on the very edge of the runway, Check flaps put on the brakes, go to full power, release brakes and go. If the tree is there one should rotate to Vx until the tail has brushed past the topmost pine needle, and then speed up to Vy.
Next we talked about short field landings . Short field landings require you know what is down there, and whether the pilot and the plane are capable of landing safely. When dealing with short soft fields, not do the pilot's skills have to be considered, but also things like density altitude and Gross weight. She said she was in an accident at a short field as her boyfriend's passenger. The plane clipped a wing on a tree and whirled around. Boyfriend died.
It has been many days since my last flight. The Tualitan valley seemed to be perpetually full of a brisk fog. Every friday evening would see the arrival of another low pressure system with a steady onshore flow which would mope around Portland till tuesday when a high pressure system would come in with its temperature inversions. Every Saturday and Sunday I would call up Robyn, read the report I had from the FAA, and it would be "Better luck next time."
Yesterday was next time. Salem was reporting five miles visibility and Eugene was reporting 1/8 of mile in fog, but Toledo, Wa and Seattle were reporting 15 miles with scattered stratus at 2500 and high cirrus. So we decided to try Chehalis Wa instead of Corvallis OR. Robyn sat me at a desk and told me to create a flight plan right there.
First I set up my checkpoints. These were Scappoose, The Trojan plant, Kelso Wa, and the point where two major power lines came together. The power lines went direct to Chehalis. Then we discussed the good points, such as the clarity of my choices, and the not so good points, such as a lack of times and fuel burns. This corrected I called the FSS and filed a plan to Chehalis.
Once in the air we activated the flight plan and called Portland approach. We were immediately given a squawk and passed over to Seattle Center. And that is the last I heard from flight following.
Robyn wanted to work with the VORs. Every ten minutes or so I would triangulate from the Astoria and Battleground stations to see where we were. Sometimes we got interesting results, and sometimes we got useful ones.
Chehalis turned up right where it was supposed to. Unicom wasn't manned and it looked to me as if the wind was blowing from the north so we landed on runway 33. We did a touch and go and were on downwind when somebody else showed up. We announced our intentions, and he announced his to land on runway 15. Believing he would wait for us to get down and gone we were on final when lo and behold, there he was turning final. Discretion being the better part of valor we aborted, cleaned up, and bugged out.
The trip home was like the trip up. Wispy clouds rolled down the hills, St. Helens' open amphitheater sliding from view, frost in all the shady spots in the hills.
As we were following the Columbia Robyn pulled an emergency and asked where I would land. I chose what looked like a convenient field and set up for it. We got all the way down to 700' AGL when I noticed a strip of concrete pass beneath. I had completely missed the Scappoose airport in my search for a landing spot. Does anyone else have as much trouble as I in finding airports?
The river turned east and we went over the hills. Behind the hills the haze lay in deep drifts peeking over ridges and laying in the great bowl of the Tualitan valley. We listened to ATIS and the chatter on the tower frequency. The airport was out there somewhere, but where? We told them where we were. They said come on in. Just as I was about to ask Portland approach to find it for us it showed up directly in front. After a bumpy landing (remember how long it has been since I have flown last?) we taxied to the tie down and on to home.
The following day, sunday, was an obviously zero zero day but I had borrowed something from the flight center and I had to return it. En route I got involved in my first auto collision. The bus driver tried to run a yellow light, and a Chevy van jumped the green. Both drivers skidded to a to a gentle bump. Hai ai ai AI! Maybe I should buy a bike?.... Stay tuned.
Tonight Robyn stayed home and washed the dog. Steven went to the airport and flew around Hagg lake. I feel terrific. The dog feels put upon and abused. Robyn feels bushed.
I arrived about a quarter to six. After a long drink at the fountain, (If the operator notices a big jump in his water bill and starts making inquiries, I will be very demure and innocent) I went and pre- flighted the plane. My usual way of testing for how much gasoline is in the tank is to put my finger in it. If I can't touch it, it aint there. There was not enough gas for me to reach. After prefllighting I started the plane and asked permission to taxi to the gas station. The usual procedure is for the gas trucks to come to the plane, but the trucks were in the shop for overhaul. The gas station is only 800 yards away from the flight school's tiedown. The ground controller replied in a voice just like our dog when he sees he is about to get involuntarily wet, the same wail of a martyr at the stake,I didn't need clearance for that kind of movement.
Having got my gas I went and did some flying. First I did one touch and go. Then I went southwest and kept on climbing, with pauses to check the traffic, until I reached 6000'.
Along the way up I tried to keep a heading, but it kept drifting back and forth about 9* Part of this was due to my looking out the window and admiring the scenery. The sun was gradually losing altitude,the shadows from the trees stretched across the roads and into the fields.
Small hills took on long shadows. I watched the roads weave necklaces around the hills, the irrigation sprays revolve around their fields. When I got to the lake I watched the folks out in their boats doodling designs in white across the green paper of the lake.
Robyn and I had discussed what she wanted done. I had some goals myself. I did some 360* turns both way, some MCA, a pair each of power off and power on stalls (one of which almost got away into a spin but I shoved the yoke in before it had a chance to start. Robyn wanted me to practice cross control to a point. I found a hill and did a cross control approach to it, and then went back up to altitude and did it again toward a lake. I admired some more scenery and then dialed in ATIS. Then I called the tower and got my clearance for a left base. I put my heading onto 300, The sun at my left wing and the moon rising through the smog on my right, and began looking for my airport off to the right. St. Andrew was now doing the tower, and when I didn't report right base he asked if I had the airport in view. I did not. He recommended I get help from Portland in finding it. Just then I looked off to my left and directly below. There was my runway! I was right above it at 3000'. I told the controller where I was. He did not make an audible sigh. He did tell me to do a right pattern, and to report across from tower on downwind. When I reported I got permission to do a touch and go. On my decent they turned on the beacon, and so I only did one touch and go before I went in and tied down.
I am not a believer in mental telepathy, but as I attached the chains to the plane I heard a voice through the phsycic either sigh, and say "The full moon sure does bring 'em out of the woodwork."
{september 17}
Last night was my third solo flight in as many days. The weatherman on channel 8 had lowered his smiling gears about six notches thursday night and predicted the kind of saturday that usually happens on the family picnic. Instead Saturday brought high stratus clouds, which hung out over the northern part of the sky. The weather specialist said things were more marginal the further northwest you went.
It was very busy at the airport. When I arrived all the planes at the flight center were out enjoying the afternoon. I had a new aircraft assigned, which taxid up to the parking area only five minutes late. After all the paperwork was done (the flight center is now on fall hours which means you let them run your charge card through _Before_ you fly. After all, if you can trust them with you life, can't you trust them with your charge card?) I went to the airplane and preflighted. The gas was low again so after I finished preflight I went to the gas station (not bothering the ground controller this time) and got a fill up.
First I did a pair of touch and goes, and then I went south and practiced trim control for a while. I would move throttle in or out and maintain strait and level at different airspeeds. Then I spent some time doing 360* turns at minimal controllable airspeed. Then I tried out some power off stalls. One of these went too far and almost went into a spin. After correcting that problem I looked at my watch and noticed I had better hurry in as I had to have the plane back by 7:30. In my flying I had gone way off southeast, beyond Oregon City. I got myself oriented back to the airport, climbed to 3000', trimmed for 85 ktl and settled back to watch the sunset.
The clouds had arranged themselves into long orange bands running northeast-southwest, and the sun was resting on top of the coast range before turning in for the night. Off to my right the sunlight was quickly climbing up mount Hood's bare gray sides. Below I saw the first oranges and yellows gilding the trees. The houses in the valleys were in the shade and had their lights on but the houses on the hills still got the last glances of the sun as it went to its rest.
I found the airport no problem. When I got there I was the only pilot in the pattern, so I did three more touch and goes, and by then it was 7:30. I got the plane back to the tie down only seven minutes late.
While I taxi ed in, I asked permission to visit the tower. The controller said "come on up." I turned the plane over to the next renter, who was taking his daughter along for company while he did night touch and goes for recurancy. I noticed that even after I came in on a plane that was running like a digital watch, he still did an exhaustive if swift preflight, chatting about the weather, the outrageous price of aviation gasoline, where on earth did they hide that hobbs meter, wasnt' that a nice sunset.. while I got my stuff together on the asphalt. He got strapped in, and waved, and i walked over to the tower.
On my way I went and looked into a vasi on the inactive runway. The Vasis at Hillsboro are in two wide boxes about 50' apart and about 4' off the ground. Their front is a wooden panel with a three inch slit, and inside is a row of four bright lights, just like auto headlights, only more intense. The bottom half of the lights was clear, but they had run a red plastic strip on the top half, which surprised me. I would have assumed the strip would be on the bottom as red lights mean you are too low. I reached the tower and went on up. Portland tower has an elevator, but I don't know if they are suitably grateful or not. There are lots of stairs between the ground and the controller's room.
When I arrived The plane I had just landed was over at the runway doing his final checks. There was no one else there. The controllers and I talked over communications procedures and what they liked to hear. We recognized each other's voices from thursday night. They were a lot nicer, and had some friendly suggestions.
Mostly they wanted me to confess I lacked visual on traffic sooner than I do. We traded stories about our CFI's and our airplanes. The lady doing ground control trained in a Citabria, the tower operator remembered his cub and its ways.
The controllers didn't go into specifics but they did say even experienced pilots were making new and exciting mistakes this year. The usual thing is the same folks make the same mistakes, and after a while you hear a certain voice you can vector traffic for this pilot's style.
This pair was in the tower the day that cessna came in without a nose wheel, and they told how when they brought him in they had a mechanic on the phone, one controller handling both tower and ground and the other working the plane down and talking to the mechanics. I saw my ride drive in and said goodbye, promised I would be back soon.
During preflight the gas was unreachable yet again, so I went over to have the tank filled. The gas station is maintained by Chevron, and they worked it just like the old time commercials. He filled the tank and washed the windshield. When was the last time any of you drivers saw that happen?
Last night yet another solo. Upon Takeoff I went strait out toward Mt. St. Helens until I got over the hills east of the airport and then I turned south and just enjoyed the sunshine and the view of the city.
Portland is built on either side of the Willamette just south of where the river runs into the Columbia. On the west side of the river there are several hills running north-south close in to downtown. Portland's bridges run from the sublime with the St. Johns bridge a graceful tall suspension bridge at the north end to the bauhouse horror of the Marquam bridge clogged with rush hour freeway traffic to the south.
Portland's downtown is along fifth avenue and is enclosed by the parenthesis of the US bank tower on Burnside and the First Interstate Tower to the south on Madison. On foot it is a twenty minute walk, and is cool from all the trees along the streets. At 3000' it is but 88,000 turns of the propeller and it behind you. After my short tour of Portland I went back to Hillsboro and did more pattern work for an hour.
The sun in your face makes finding traffic hard, but when landing with it behind, or better yet with a quartering tail-sun one of the delights of landing is watching my shadow running across the grass to meet me on the runway.
Speaking of traffic, there wasn't a lot tonight. One of my current goals it to be able to find traffic quickly, and when I was mostly worried about getting down there were people all over the place doing patterns, coming in and going out, just like rush hour at the sunset-217 interchange. Now that the weather is beautiful, I feel confident in the pattern, and would like some company, I usually have the airport to myself. Not entirely. This being fall the waterfowl who live in the ponds north and west of the airport are finishing their chick's flight training before the great move over the next two months, and the birds who live between the runways are practicing formation flying around the tower.
Two goofy calls from the tower. Or rather a goofy call from the tower and a goofy response from me in reply to a request to change runways.
I like to fly in the evening and watch the shadows yawn and stretch across the fields. I am also wary of traffic and have a hard time seeing it so I fly with every available light on. When I was coming back to the airport from a short excursion over Forest Grove I was, as is normal for me, lit up like Bonnivile Dam. One of the other pilots was looking for me, didn't have me, and told the tower so. The tower comes back and tells me to turn on a light. The only thing left to turn on was the cabin light, and as I believe in co operating with the tower always, I turned that on.
Later I was doing touch and go on Runway 2. I had just lifted off when the tower tells me I am "Clear for touch and go on 30, I will call your base." I was wondering what he was up to. I told him "This is 4RK. I just took off!" He must have known what I meant even if I didn't because he came back putting special emphasis on the runway number " Please fly RIGHT TRAFFIC _RUNWAY_30_. I will call your base. I apologized and lined up for downwind. When he called my base I did something else I will have to confess. I acknowledged, and continued downwind looking for the traffic. Finally I asked if the traffic had landed, he said yes, so then I turned. Meanwhile I wasn't the only one goofing up the change in pattern. While I was coming in for final the Tower was telling someone where I was and trying to convince him traffic was now on 30. He was looking for me to be doing final, as I was, and he flew about 750' above me as I put in the last flaps. He then figured out what he was supposed to do. I told tower I wanted a full stop and went in and tied down.
Today we did the long awaited Astoria Trip. All my meticulous plans are sitting here beside my computer, where I left them this morning on my way to work. I therefor had to make up a new bunch from a sectional I had in the bottom of my backpack and a pad of post-it notes during breaks in the work day. I arrived at the flight center early tonight and was just finishing measuring the distances between my checkpoints when Robyn came in. She looked at my flight plans, and sighed. I had put the weather briefer's report of winds aloft at the top, and along the side I had a list of checkpoints and the distances between each. Each leg of the trip had its own little note, and somewhere, or rather anywhere on the note there was a notation on the true course, the wind correction, the magnetic deviation, (20*E around here) the indicated course, and the ground speed. We talked over my checkpoints. On the Hillsboro-Astoria leg they were the curving railway trestle by the Sunset-Clatskenie road junction, a stream, and three roads coming together over another stream. She didn't think much of any of them, and after trying to fly by them, neither do I.
While we were waiting to take off we watched the aircraft in the pattern land. She was in ecstasy over a sprightly little tail dragger - biplane with yellow wings and a blue fuselage and he came bouncing down the runway. Then he did a ground loop, broke off his landing gear, and plowed a 20' long furrow down the runway with his propeller. After assuring the tower that nothing was burning he got out and stood in front of his plane. He looked ok, the only thing he broke in the crack up was his heart. The plane had gone from a joyful bird to something for an insurance adjuster to pull his chin over.
After takeoff we filled our flight plan and went looking for the first of my checkpoints. We didn't find the trestle, but the point where the roads split served just as well. Then we missed the next one entirely. The next one was just before a pass between Saddle Mountain and a range of shorter hills. She found that one.
Before we got to Saddle Mountain I had been noticing the ocean rising behind the hills. When we went through the pass it was like leaving a room and coming outdoors. The view opened up north and south to the point where the world ends. To the north the Columbia was spreading out at the mouth, to the south hills marched into the sea. The sun had turned basketball orange. What I wanted to do at this point was park the airplane right there, put some Ray Orbison or Anne Murry on the tape deck and just lay back and watch the sunset, 4500' in the air on a crisp fall evening. She was after me to find the airport. Who cares about the airport? It will still be there when I am ready. Sunsets like that are the important things. Finding Astoria Airport was very easy. It is on the across a small river from Astoria and it has three sets of runways arranged like a concrete star. After we located the airport we turned to Kelso.
The only checkpoint from Astoria to Kelso that worked was a bend in the river just west of a big island. Being as large as it was, kinda hard to miss.
One pleasant surprise enroute from Astoria to Kelso was the fact Mt. St. Helens was in a direct line on my heading. After we passed the bend in the river I just pointed the plane at the mountain as if I were tracking a volcanic VOR. We did one touch and go at Kelso, and then followed the river to where we could see the Antenna farm over Portland's west hills, and then turned Yesterday I went from HIO to BTG to DLS to Scappoose to HIO. Total Hobbs time 3 hours on the button.
things got lost
After checking with Robyn, who then went off with a student, I sat down and examined the flight plan and looked over my flight guide maps of the airport for a half hour memorizing the appearance of the airport and the traffic patterns at both the Dalles and Scappoose. Then I went and preflighted, called Atis, and started on my way.
My intended route was to go up to the Battleground VOR and follow the 070 Radial down the Gorge. This meant I had to go over the PDX ARSA. After I filed my plan I called Portland approach, and asked them for flight following. They began to vector me all over North Portland until I got over the airport and then they sent me on my way. I chased after my radial, got on it, and started along it. Seattle Center was to busy to flight follow so I went out alone.
My checkpoints out of BTG were a 3700' mountain, Carson WA, A 4300' Mt, Hood River OR, and the Dalles. The trouble with using mountains as checkpoints is there are so many of them around here. the ground is twisted and crumpled and crunched up like an unrolled ball of paper. I got over the mountains and tried to keep the wings level in the bouncy air and I had a hard time deciding which one was the one I wanted. Heck with it.
Next checkpoint was Carson WA. Carson is a very small town next to a very small river emptying into the Columbia. I found it with no difficulty and went on to my next mountain, which was also hidden in a mob of his friends all of whom were creating lots of turbulence, at least for my experience of turbulence. I was about 3000' over the tallest ones too
One of my sisters is into nature. She has books on Geology and Forestry cascading from every convenient shelf. If you are into Geology, the Northwest is the place to be, because we have more of it than anybody. No oil, which is usually in geologically dull places anyway, but lots of mountains, volcanos, and fast rivers. The geology makes the forestry interesting. Different trees grow in different places because of rainfall, altitude, soils, and sunlight. From 7500' I could see bands of trees as they changed on the way up the hills, getting darker foliage as they went higher. The trees changed from ridge to ridge, firs on the west side of the cascades, pines on the east, and once past the final range of hills into the Dalles the trees were lonely oaks in wide seas of sage.
.. Another odd feature of the local Geology is the Grand Coulee. During the last Ice age water melted under and behind a great ice dam up in Canada. One day the dam broke and sent billions of gallons of water racing down the Columbia Valley. To the west of the cascades most evidence of this sudden freshet have been eroded away in the perpetual rain, but to the east the old rock is still there and the signs of the great dam break still show in the hills.
The Columbia is a fast green river, but behind the dams the water slows to a more sedate pace, and soils deposit more easily. Nowdays there are ever lengthening islands as more dirt settles and the western end. Soils also get more chance to settle at the mouths of streams. Every stream of consequence has a long brown fan in the river now. The town of Hood River has built up a dike to keep the dirt out of the port area.
My mom came from Hood River, and on the wall in her bedroom is a drawing of what Hood River looked like in 1930 as imagined from about 4500'. As I went east from Carson the scenery to my right became ever more familiar. Mt. Hood changed from its familiar shape from my bedroom window to the familiar shape of the picture in my mom's room. Some things have changed. You can't see very far in the dirty atmosphere, there is a bridge instead of a ferry to White Salmon, the cannery has changed shape, there are more houses spread out from the city. It didn't look that different though.
From Hood River to The Dalles the trees began giving out until they vanished completely. On the last ridge before the Dalles trees spilled down the eastward slope until the point where the last trickle of water seems to have failed, and the sagebrush took over.
After passing Hood River I began calling the Dalles Unicom. Nobody home. Nobody flying there either. I kept calling. Finally I got a response. Runway 30 was in use. (?) Winds light and variable. I set up for a pattern, and flew in.
One of the inducements the Dalles has to landing high is the position of the runway over the river. There is a great tall cliff 50' from the edge of the runway that drops strait into the water.
After landing I called up the FAA and told them I was safe and happy. I then called up the flight school and told them the same thing. Then I taxied to the runway.
Most airports I have been to so far have signs everywhere telling you how to find this and that, and if the grass around the field isn't well mowed, it is at least chopped once in a while At the Dalles the sage was growing tall and ignored. Since Sage never gets too tall anyway it was no big deal. It was just difficult to see over it to the next taxiway.
On my way to the runway I listened to a pilot of a Cherokee coming in to land. Should have recorded him. He was a model of good radio behavior. He called every leg and he was a delight to hear. While he came in I tried to do my 360 view turn. I managed it falling off the taxiway for almost no time at all. After he was clear I did my takeoff, climbed to altitude, and headed down the river. After calling the FAA and telling them I was airborne (Poor lady who was running the RCO was having problems with a pilot who wanted to keep jumping the line.) I tried to get Seattle Center for flight following. Seattle Center couldn't get me on Radar and they told me to try Portland Approach when I got to Bonniville dam. When I got to Bonniville, Portland said try again when I got to Cascade Locks. Finally they found me and watched me cross the ARSA.
After crossing the ARSA I did a pair of touch and goes at Scappoose. Scappoose has noise abate which means right traffic over the Slough for runway 33, which unicom said was the active runway.
And then home. A very uneventful trip. I found the airport, I saw almost all the traffic (except the lady in the cub I was supposed to follow) and landed with a gentle skeet, instead of the usuall boing boing.
Such a nice trip, I took myself out to dinner.
It seems there is a great deal of stuff got lost and put here.I am going to have to rearrange everything.
Hokay, the first checkride.
I arrived ten minutes early and finished filling out the forms and double checked all my paperwork. I found quite a few holes from the fact I lost my logbook, but all the important things were there.
When we first scheduled he told me to make a plan for Lebanon. so when he arrived, looked over the paperwork and pocketed his check we went back into the classroom and looked over my plan.
I had chosen the Newberg VOR, Mt Angel Monastery, the Salem airport, & the city of Albany as my check points down to Lebanon. (flack jackets not required, different Lebanon) He asked why I chose Mt. Angel, and I said it is a big building on a hill that is distinctive from a distance. He pointed out my flight path would carry me over the Salem Control tower, and asked if I needed to call the Seattle tower. I said since my plan called for me to fly at 4500', I wouldn't have to call them, as there interest only went up to 3000' AGL.
He then looked at Albany and asked how I would be able to distinguish it from the surrounding towns. The honest answer to that is "I can smell it!" Instead I told him there was a distinctive chemical plant in Albany that put forth a plume of steam visible for miles.
After that we went over the map and discussed airspace. What is this blue circle around Seattle for, what are those heavy blue lines, what are those magenta lines, what are these light grey lines, what do these numbers mean in the center of each grid, what do you need to go into a TCA, If you wanted to go from Troutdale to Pearson, WA, would you need to talk with Portland approach, when, why, and why even if you don't need to, should you.
Then we went over the the meaning of a control zone, and a control area, what you need for entry into a control zone and who you should talk to to get a special VFR into one.
And now for the airplane.
We did a thorough preflight check. He asked what color was the gasoline. I said it is a very very pale blue here in HIO. He asked what the color meant. He asked how I could tell I had the wrong kind of gas. I explained I could either smell it, or the color would be wrong.
I have no idea how he did it, but he managed to get some contamination into the sump, which I looked at in surprise, since I had never seen a cloudy gucky container of gas before. I quickly emptied it, and made another sample, which was better if not good. Emptied that one and took another which was almost clear, and took one more that was fine.
Next we discussed the systems. What ran what, what would fail if this or that got plugged.
After the preflight was completed we strapped ourselves in, and started the checklist. Midway through he asked where the flight center kept their airplane docs. I showed him the book, and found where I had lost my place, and continued.
We listened to ATIS, which was being read by my least favorite HIO tower controller. After he saw my method of writing down atis he asked what each number meant, and why I put everything down in the order I used. then we got ground clearance and headed to the runway.
Once there I went and did the run up, and made sure he was wearing his seat belt. We did a short field take off over the standard FAA 50' tree, and went toward Newberg VOR.
Hillsoboro was partly cloudy with scattered cumulous as low as 1300' On the way to Newberg we had to dodge a couple of clouds that wanted to pass in front of us. Once past Newberg VOR the heading I planned was blocked by a big ugly monster with a bad attitude, so I said I was going to go around him. The examiner (Call him Humphrey) Said "No, find Aurora and we'll do some landings there. " I got out my friendly map and found what radial Aurora was on, dialed it in, and flew out on it. (That was the only way I would have found it, I still don't know where it is!) In short order I found it, and kept my feelings of surprise to myself.
This is where things began to get very unhappy. All I managed to do was to prove Humphrey didn't where false teeth. If he had, he would have lost them. If he didn't have training as a flight instructor he would have lost his breakfast. If I would have been in his shoes, I would have lost my temper. I came in too high, to slow, too hard, too everything wrong. Each time the plane went Bang rattle rattle cough roar. When he had enough of this foolishness he said "Lets go northeast"
He took over the airplane and gave me the funny hat you wear for Instrument simulations. He went and turned the airplane each and every way, and gave me three times to recover. The error I made here was to leave the throttle alone. I got the wings level and the plane stabilized each time though.
Then we did some stalls. We did power on, power off, and stalls in landing configuration. Again I did them without touching the power. This made him very unhappy. Mainly because I lost so much altitude.
We had been buzzing back and forth over a small private concrete strip airport for almost 45 minutes. I had seen it out of the corner of my eye for a long time. I wasn't the least surprised when he pulled the throttle and said "now what?" I found the airport under my wing and pointed it out to him. I had been trimming the plane while telling him where it was, and then I began setting up for a landing. This time the setup was beautiful. I would have made a great landing there. Instead he said go to the Hillsoboro airport. He pointed it out, and I said fine, tuned in ATIS and checked what the word was.
We set up, landed (splat), and taxied home.
Need I say I was not surprised when he got out the pink slip?
So, two weeks later, there we are again bright and early of a saturday morning going over the problems from the previous flight. I did all the checks, made sure he was wearing his seatbelt just in case he was going to do anything cute, and went out to the south practice area. Again we had the company of frisky clouds on our way out. We did the stalls the way he liked them, and headed back to the airport, and some incredible landings. Remember the old Timex commercials? That is the way the folks as Cessna must build airplanes. Anyway, we did four or five of these bouncey bouncy landings. I knew I had flunked again. He told me to tell the tower we were coming in for a full stop. So I just relaxed and took it easy on down. No problems setting up, the wheels touched asphalt as quietly as a wet tennis shoe walking across linoleum and right at the numbers. The best landing I had done in ages. I skidded over to the nearest taxiway, and called ground. On the way to the flight center he asked if I had much crosswind experience. I said no. He said you should try and get some, and was quiet again.
I stopped the plane, leaned on the wheel and looked down the parking area while he got himself out of the seatbelts. "Ok, you passed, get the plane put away and pay your bill and come down to the dealership down there and we'll finish the paperwork."