IFR Lesson 16 - Rumblin Train
12/19/2007 Filed in: Flying
IFR Lesson 16 - Rumblin Train
Yeah, another IFR lesson writeup. Sure, I could sit here and blather on endlessly about how CFII covered up all the instruments in the cockpit and demanded I fly every approach within a 50nm radius with duct tape over my eyes and my left foot and right hand tied together. Or.... I can briefly tell you we did slow flight, stalls, unusual attitudes, and a couple approaches and then detail me and CFII goofing off for an hour in the Seminole together.
I know which one I'd want to read, and I for damn sure know which one I'd rather write!
We arrive at M54 and meet with MEI (a different one than the MEI with whom I originally trained) to make sure I'm still somewhat competent behind the wheel of this thing.
I preflight the airplane and have very little difficulty remembering all the crooks and crannies in which I've been taught to look. Then we climb in and I find that right away I'm fumbling around looking for switches that just 90 days ago were second nature. Hmmm, that's weird. Evidently the synaptic connections formed during my training need a bit of additional adhesive. Maybe that's what sniffing superglue is all about... hmmm. Someone cue the "Airplane" reference!
MEI points out a couple of items in the interest of time and, after the runup, it's time for the takeoff briefing. Upon which I also, almost inexplicably, stumble. I got to "once the gear goes up" and just stopped dead like it required switching to Laotian for the remainder of the briefing. Ok dude, it's time to find your Seminole legs again. I can still do this. Right?
I apply power, check the gauges and we're zooming down the runway and quickly reach rotation speed. On the upside, I find that I'm still able to think way ahead of the airplane. The downside is that first pattern was complete crap because I flew it way too tight. In reflecting on it, it may have been precisely *because* I was really ahead of the airplane, and thought to turn earlier than I probably should have.
The landing is acceptable but long and we taxi back to the starting line. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping the thing slow enough on taxi and I'm unwittingly riding the brakes pretty hard. After a bit of brake squealing and much deserved chiding from MEI about that, we're off again for round two and it's demonstrably better. Actually felt like I knew what I was doing again this trip around. Very much improved.
I was expecting the third trip around to be the best yet. I get upwind around 400 AGL and...
MEI: Let's make this one fun! (yanks back right throttle)
Me: (grimace)
Having watched him do it I unconsciously correct with rudder input as he's pulling it back. Which would have been really spectacular if I hadn't pressed it on the wrong direction. I briefly, and somewhat alarmingly, send the nose swinging the wrong direction. After ensuring my feet and brain are talking on the same frequency, I'm able to right the ship (or rather, left it) and fly the pattern pretty much like I did 3 months prior.
After a pretty decent landing, MEI appears satisfied so I drop him off and CFII climbs into the right seat. After a bit more landing practice I let him take the controls for a bit. That was a really bad idea. Not because he didn't know what he was doing. Oh no, to the contrary, the smarmy bastard flew the thing from the first moment like he'd done it all his life. I mean really... the guy should have had the common decency of screwing up *a little* to boost my ego. Blow through an altitude by a couple hundo. Miss your airspeed by 10 knots. Anything! Harrumph. Must be how he was raised.
So after a bit more pattern work its off to shoot my first multi approach. Given almost zero time to setup for the approach, I didn't really even understand where we were in relation to the plate. My situational awareness of the approach when we began was firmly in negative territory, with a high absolute value. Nevertheless, a bit of sweat and swearing later and I'm flying the VOR 19 approach, albeit at a faster clip than I'm accustomed. Like, 50% faster. Ack!
Surprisingly enough, I flew the approach acceptably after my initial confusion, and it culminated with another passable landing. Sadly, CFII had another lesson pending so we had to cut short our fun and head back.
You know it's a good day when you can buzz around the patch and shoot an approach well into the triple digits.
The bad news is that this wasn't a banner performance for me, and my multi skills evidently atrophied at a somewhat alarming rate, in my opinion. The good news is that I now have a much better understanding of how important it is to do recurrent training in twins, which could easily be a life-altering experience.
Yeah, another IFR lesson writeup. Sure, I could sit here and blather on endlessly about how CFII covered up all the instruments in the cockpit and demanded I fly every approach within a 50nm radius with duct tape over my eyes and my left foot and right hand tied together. Or.... I can briefly tell you we did slow flight, stalls, unusual attitudes, and a couple approaches and then detail me and CFII goofing off for an hour in the Seminole together.
I know which one I'd want to read, and I for damn sure know which one I'd rather write!
We arrive at M54 and meet with MEI (a different one than the MEI with whom I originally trained) to make sure I'm still somewhat competent behind the wheel of this thing.
I preflight the airplane and have very little difficulty remembering all the crooks and crannies in which I've been taught to look. Then we climb in and I find that right away I'm fumbling around looking for switches that just 90 days ago were second nature. Hmmm, that's weird. Evidently the synaptic connections formed during my training need a bit of additional adhesive. Maybe that's what sniffing superglue is all about... hmmm. Someone cue the "Airplane" reference!
MEI points out a couple of items in the interest of time and, after the runup, it's time for the takeoff briefing. Upon which I also, almost inexplicably, stumble. I got to "once the gear goes up" and just stopped dead like it required switching to Laotian for the remainder of the briefing. Ok dude, it's time to find your Seminole legs again. I can still do this. Right?
I apply power, check the gauges and we're zooming down the runway and quickly reach rotation speed. On the upside, I find that I'm still able to think way ahead of the airplane. The downside is that first pattern was complete crap because I flew it way too tight. In reflecting on it, it may have been precisely *because* I was really ahead of the airplane, and thought to turn earlier than I probably should have.
The landing is acceptable but long and we taxi back to the starting line. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping the thing slow enough on taxi and I'm unwittingly riding the brakes pretty hard. After a bit of brake squealing and much deserved chiding from MEI about that, we're off again for round two and it's demonstrably better. Actually felt like I knew what I was doing again this trip around. Very much improved.
I was expecting the third trip around to be the best yet. I get upwind around 400 AGL and...
MEI: Let's make this one fun! (yanks back right throttle)
Me: (grimace)
Having watched him do it I unconsciously correct with rudder input as he's pulling it back. Which would have been really spectacular if I hadn't pressed it on the wrong direction. I briefly, and somewhat alarmingly, send the nose swinging the wrong direction. After ensuring my feet and brain are talking on the same frequency, I'm able to right the ship (or rather, left it) and fly the pattern pretty much like I did 3 months prior.
After a pretty decent landing, MEI appears satisfied so I drop him off and CFII climbs into the right seat. After a bit more landing practice I let him take the controls for a bit. That was a really bad idea. Not because he didn't know what he was doing. Oh no, to the contrary, the smarmy bastard flew the thing from the first moment like he'd done it all his life. I mean really... the guy should have had the common decency of screwing up *a little* to boost my ego. Blow through an altitude by a couple hundo. Miss your airspeed by 10 knots. Anything! Harrumph. Must be how he was raised.
So after a bit more pattern work its off to shoot my first multi approach. Given almost zero time to setup for the approach, I didn't really even understand where we were in relation to the plate. My situational awareness of the approach when we began was firmly in negative territory, with a high absolute value. Nevertheless, a bit of sweat and swearing later and I'm flying the VOR 19 approach, albeit at a faster clip than I'm accustomed. Like, 50% faster. Ack!
Surprisingly enough, I flew the approach acceptably after my initial confusion, and it culminated with another passable landing. Sadly, CFII had another lesson pending so we had to cut short our fun and head back.
You know it's a good day when you can buzz around the patch and shoot an approach well into the triple digits.
The bad news is that this wasn't a banner performance for me, and my multi skills evidently atrophied at a somewhat alarming rate, in my opinion. The good news is that I now have a much better understanding of how important it is to do recurrent training in twins, which could easily be a life-altering experience.