I'll run my hand gently over the wing of a small airplane and say to him, "This plane can teach you more things and give you more gifts than I ever could. It won't get you a better job, a faster car, or a bigger house. But if you treat it with respect and keep your eyes open, it may remind you of some things you used to know -- that life is in the moment, joy matters more than money, the world is a beautiful place, and that dreams really, truly are possible." And then, because airplanes speak in a language beyond words, I'll take him up in the evening summer sky and let the airplane show him what I mean.
— Lane Wallace, 'Eyes of a Child,' Flying magazine, February 2000.
Tonight I soloed.
We taxied out to CLL RW34 at about 7:15, just as the sun was touching the horizon. Saturday had been such a disaster that I was looking forward to some landings: 2, 4 ,6, 8 or more...as many as possible to get my feel for the approach back, that I had felt so sure of just 3 days ago but which seemed so alien now.
To recap Saturday morning, I made three poor approaches to CFD, never getting within 50' of the runway. With each go-around my confidence slipped lower until, by the time I came to the depressing realization that the solo effort would end, without a solo, I began a round of second-guessing and confidence deflators that I had not experienced since maybe high school.
I left the plane Saturday at 9AM completely discouraged.
So my sights were set considerably lower as we lifted off to distant CFD (well, at least 8 or so miles away)...do it right and build for the future. Andy had done a short preflight with John R and me, explaining to grab a handful of power (to 1700 RPM), 10 degree flaps and 2 1/2 wheels of trim as the plane drew abeam of the numbers, then ride the downwind leg to base by getting everything stable. If everything's stable when you turn final, the descent to landing should be a piece of cake.
I had experienced this before, but forgotten the step-by-step method, so the refresher was very handy.
We circled CFD at 2000' MSL and announced our entry into the pattern (123.0 MHz) at 1300' and the top of the downwind leg, for landing at CFD RW32. A mile later I pulled back power (carb heat out), nosed up 2 1/2 wheels trim and waited for the speed to settle down to about 75 KIAS before adding flaps. Turning base at about 70, my hands left the yoke to convince myself that we were on a stable glide, then I waited to line up on final. Turned it to final a little short (damn!) but that was easily corrected...saw I was a little high and added 10 more flaps, plus nosed down a little (but not much; Andy was watching airspeed with an eagle eye). Cut power a few hundred yards out and glided in to a pretty greasy one. No sideways pull on the wheels, just straight and slippery. We slowed, back-taxied to RW32 and took off.
The second time through, at the top of downwind, Andy asked if I wanted to do a simulated power-off landing. "Sure." I announced our intentions to Coulter traffic and pulled power. We were plenty high, so I flew quite a bit of the pattern before settling onto a medium short (but high as usual) final. Since we had no power, there was no problem flapping out the excess altitude and we touched down for smooth landing number two.
"A few more of these and I'll have my nerve back to start talking solo," I was thinking to myself. Which was about when Andy opened the door.
"What the...wait! I'm not ready," my mind barked. I heard myself tell him "Let's just do a few more so I can get my confidence..."
"No, why don't you do a couple by yourself. I'll walk back to the end of the runway, and when I get there, you pick me up and we'll go back to Easterwood." And he got out and shut the door. "I don't have a radio, so I won't be able to hear you if you get in trouble. But you can call me on my cell phone. And don't forget your right rudder," were his final words of wisdom. I was alone.
Really alone.
Well. So this is solo. I glanced at the right seat. It looked strange with just a belt and no occupant. I heard the familiar hum of the engine and found myself turning to back-taxi to 32. Straightening out the pedals and giving some taxi-throttle, it was time for a little prayer. It would be nice to quote an elegant phrase that I recited to my Maker, but it was more like God, keep an eye on me here. I really want to do this. Don't let me die.
I turned back up RW32, double-checked my carb-heat, trim and flaps, and full-throttled to the unknown.
I know, I know you've heard it a hundred times. But it's true. The plane really does fly better without a CFI in the right seat. We (my plane and I) jumped skyward and didn't look back till we were 1000' ASL and turning crosswind. Before I knew it we were 1300' and turning downwind.
"Throttle back to 2200 or so.Nose up. Keep speed under control until we're abeam of the numbers. Keep altitude at 1300'" my mind worked efficiently and my hands and feet followed its commands. I radioed traffic at midfield. Reached the numbers. Throttle out to 1700. Carb heat out. Flaps to 10. 2 1/2 wheels of trim. Uh-oh! We're not descending slowly! Man, the plane REALLY wants to fly without Andy here!" Throttle back to 1400-1500 or so. There we go. Start the descent.
Here comes Messina Hof where the base leg starts. Shallow turn into base. Watch for the runway from under the wing. Here it comes...turn to final. A little high, so (check speed to make sure I'm OK there) flaps to 20. Good, now we're goin' down. Point to the numbers. Speed at 75 (a little quick) but stable. Hard to see the numbers because it's getting dark, but damn if I'm gonna squawk the lights on now. Wait to flare...wait...wait. Flare. Float (Hold it...hold it...keep it there til we're back in ground effect) Whew. Back down. Ease back...steady...3..2..1..grease.
Breathe.
Well, there's one. I back taxi to start another one, but now the apprehension is replaced by excitement and cautious confidence. Anouncing my intentions to take off, I kill flaps and carb-heat, wheel to take-off trim and throttle up. (Another little prayer.) And up we go. Oh yes, as I take off I realize that the runway is now dark, so I squawk the lights on. That makes sense, to turn 'em on as I'm leaving. But I know I'll be around in 5 minutes and they'll still be there.
Pretty routine this time. Less float on the landing, but another good one. Let's see, where did Andy want to meet me? I get on the radio. "Coulter traffic Cessna 785 at the north end of runway 32. I'm missing a CFI on this plane. If anyone has seen him, please tell him to meet me at the south end of runway 32."
No response. What's the point of wasting my comedic talent if no one is listening?
Andy waves me down at the end of the runway and I pop the door open.
"Congratulations. Those looked really good." That meant a lot, because I thought they were pretty good, too.
"You floated a little on that first one. The engine sounded a little fast..." He noticed "but then I heard you cut it and brought it down just fine."
The ride back to Easterwood was highlighted by a high-speed approach to the VASI lights. Red on top, white on bottom. 120 KIAS. Kill power crossing University onto RW16. G-L-I-D-E...stretch....touchdown and ease back to wheelie. Taxi home.
We're done. It's been an eventful night.
