Lesson 17: These words... they taste so delicious!
07/12/2007 Filed in: Flying
Thursday 07/12/07
It was a beautiful plan, really. Tuesday we work on short/soft field stuff in the pattern. Wednesday we do another dual cross country. Thursday (today) I do my first solo cross country....
CFI1: We'll go to Crossville together Wednesday and, unless you screw up majorly, you can do a solo cross country Thursday.
Me: Great, no pressure there.
Best-laid plans of CFI and student pilots...
I arrive Tuesday and note some rather ominous clouds and low ceilings. We decide to give it a go since it's pattern work and get a whole two laps before the ceiling drops to 800 ft. As I turn crosswind I enter a pretty puffy cloud. I can still see through it somewhat, so no emergency yet. Not good, though.
Me: Hey, at least I get to log some actual!
I drop out of it, complete the pattern, we do a full stop and my fun is over. Boo!
A cold front moved through that night decisively killing our dual CC for Wednesday morning. Boo, hiss! The good news is that high pressure is moving in and the forecast is glorious for Thursday. Even better is that the forecast is correct. We are go for launch - KCSV, here we come!
On the way to the airport I file our flight plan and get a weather briefing. I have already checked the winds aloft and recalculated the necessary portions of my flight planning. On. The. Ball.
I arrive a few minutes early, grunt something like good morning to CFI1 and begin the preflight. As I'm doing this, something small falls and hits the wing of the airplane and falls on the ground. I retrieve it and it appears to be about a 1/8" nut with some kind of grommet on it. I made a minimal effort to see whence it fell and then put it on the dash where I won't forget to show it to CFI1.
As he comes up, he sees it immediately and begins reinstalling it with the screw that fell out from around the canopy railing.
Me: <joking> Shouldn't you call the A&P over for that?
CFI1: This is the screw that holds the whole airplane together.
Me: You're only allowed preventative maintenance though, right?
CFI1: I'm *preventing* the rest of the airplane from falling apart.
Me: <laughs>
Now back to the flight planning, there is one minor wrinkle of which you should be made aware. During the planning I discover there's a 25 mile stretch with no discernible landmarks. No towns, no big towers, no Virgin Mary crop circles, nada. To make matters worse, if I end up south of the checkpoint that marks the end of that 25 mile stretch, I'll be uberlost as there are no terrain features there either. If I end up north of it, I'll at least know where I am because there's a big lake. I like big lakes more than I like flat, featureless terrain. I'm weird that way.
My unquestionable navigational genius, therefore, persuades me to enact an intentional slight northerly deviation from my carefully calculated magnetic heading. Yeah, that should do it. Sysvr4, you are clever personified. They will pickle your brain for further study when this is said and done.
So I start out about 7-10 degrees more north than is called for on my planning, and right away I'm having trouble locating our position using the map. I'm muttering aloud (I'm sure to the great amusement of CFI1) trying to find something and I see a little town. But there aren't supposed to be any towns here.
Me: Hmmm... that could be Smithville. But how in the world did it end up there? No way, can't be Smithville.... well, maybe.
CFI1: <silence>
Me: You're not gonna tell me are you?
CFI1: Nope.
How rude.
I finally spot a couple of terrain features that clue me in and I keep flying the current heading. Then, miracle upon miracles, I ended up over the lake, and, after a minor sweat, some hand-wringing, and lots of confused looks from CFI1, I know *exactly* where we are. I proclaim as much to CFI1.
Me: <proudly> Aha! We're here.
CFI1: Yep. On the sectional you'll see a clue here, here, and here <pointing out towers, highways, and such>
Me: You'll be happy to know I used all three of those things [to discern our location]
I can smell the formaldehyde already. Problem is that now I've got to guess a new heading to our next checkpoint because I'm about 8 miles north of where I should be. I guess 135 and CFI1 agrees. Or at least, he nods his head with a wry smile that could very easily signal impending trouble.
A few minutes go by and we're up over a town. As luck would have it, my next checkpoint is, in fact, a town. Yippee! Er, hold on there, Lindhberg...
There are two towns at a virtually identical longitudes which are separated by about 10 miles latitude. It occurs to me that if 135 wasn't the correct lotto number this week, I could, in fact, be looking at either of these two towns. Now begins a period of intense cartographic scrutiny.
Having carefully researched and thoroughly deliberated on the matter with myself, I proclaim with utter certainty that the town over which we have just passed is the original checkpoint and that we are on course. I'm feeling pretty darn good about it, too, I tell ya.
It is here that I ask you, gentle reader, to refer back to the subject of this post and, furthermore, to cast your mind back to a minor scribbling I made in my last writeup. Reproduced here for your convenience:
quote:
Originally posted by Sysvr4
All in all, I found navigating via pilotage to be a pretty simple affair. In fact, I was pretty surprised at how often and easily I was able to identify our exact position between checkpoints
After my near boastful proclamation of having pinpointed our position, CFI hands me a rather sizable metaphorical fork for the above words and requests their immediate consumption. I have chosen the wrong town. Damn. It.
He shows me a couple of things on the map that should have clued me in (but didn't). Making matters worse, immediately after he does so, I am able to show him a couple of different clues from the map which I missed that, again, would have told me definitively the town over which I was flying. This is no consolation to my damaged ego or full tummy.
Having no choice in the matter, I decide to shake it off (for now) and keep flying the airplane. After all, I *still* have yet to find our destination, and I find myself, yet again, in a position of guessing headings. Hmm... deja vu.
I fly my best guess heading and I'm looking for anything to tell me where I am. I am just beginning to panic and think about throwing in the towel when I *finally* spot the road I've been searching for converging just outside the town of Crossville (our destination). I silently thank every deity I can think of.
Let us not forget, however, that I still have not found the airport. I'm studying and studying my poor sectional again when...
CFI1: So where's the airport?
Me: Looking for that now.
CFI1: Where is it in relation to the town?
I look at the map and note that it's just west of the town, which should be off our right wing. I quickly glance that way and, if I weren't 1000 feet too high, I'd be on a perfect right base for the runway. I'm grossed out that it took any prodding at all to find it, but I reserve some degree of confidence that I would eventually have looked in that direction on my own. Probably.
As it turns out, I overfly the airport, check the sock, do a nice at-pattern-altitude entry and a very mediocre approach and landing. CFI1 directs me to the ramp so we can "stretch our legs".
Me: You really want to talk about how this went so wrong, right?
CFI1: Why don't you tell me instead all the things you did right?
Say what?! I was floored. I honestly couldn't think of anything for several seconds, I was so focused on all the negative stuff. My realization of that now disgusts me more than the errors I made.
I finally manage to come up with a few things I did right. Many of them I did very, very right, but I had overshadowed them with the bad stuff. Don't let this happen to you. When I make my next set of checklists, I'm going to insert, in random locations:
"Ask yourself what you did right!"
© CFI1, 2007, all rights reserved
On the ramp we do discuss how I got off course. Long story short... don't sweat a 25 mile stretch. Dead reckoning works if you let it. I, of course, thought I could outsmart nearly a century's worth of navigational teachings and experience. Turns out, not so much.
The return trip was very much uneventful. By that I mean that the landmarks stayed put and did not scramble around when they saw me coming. I even made a very nice straight-in final approach to Smyrna, if I say so myself. Landing... meh.
Later, in the office...
Me: So did that count as screwing up "majorly"?
CFI1: Look, you got a bit off course, but you fixed it. If I weren't there you could have used GPS as a last resort. I'm comfortable with a sign off for solo CC.
So that's how it'll be on Monday. Back to KCSV, all by my lonesome.
Tomorrow I fly with CFI3 again... hood work and finally that trip across Nashville. Oh, and another 50 foot runway. I'm ready for it this time, though. I intend to put some serious smackdown on that runway. Ok, bad choice of words.
Logged: 1.9
Comments
Dstang65
Junior Member
Registered: Jul 2007
Location: S.FL (KFXE)
Posts: 17
To quote a Guiness commercial...
"Brilliant!"
Another great write up.
Sounds like you are about there.
Good luck on the upcoming solo XC
Dan
clh
Senior Member
Registered: Dec 2005
Location: houston
Posts: 125
Remember, they paint town names on water towers so us lost pilots can figure out where we are. Nothing in the FARs says that we can't fly down to read a road sign either. LOL. Look forward to the XC wirte-up.
rjh
Member
Registered: Jun 2007
Location: KC
Posts: 27
More fine reading. Keep it up, and good luck on your XC.
It was a beautiful plan, really. Tuesday we work on short/soft field stuff in the pattern. Wednesday we do another dual cross country. Thursday (today) I do my first solo cross country....
CFI1: We'll go to Crossville together Wednesday and, unless you screw up majorly, you can do a solo cross country Thursday.
Me: Great, no pressure there.
Best-laid plans of CFI and student pilots...
I arrive Tuesday and note some rather ominous clouds and low ceilings. We decide to give it a go since it's pattern work and get a whole two laps before the ceiling drops to 800 ft. As I turn crosswind I enter a pretty puffy cloud. I can still see through it somewhat, so no emergency yet. Not good, though.
Me: Hey, at least I get to log some actual!
I drop out of it, complete the pattern, we do a full stop and my fun is over. Boo!
A cold front moved through that night decisively killing our dual CC for Wednesday morning. Boo, hiss! The good news is that high pressure is moving in and the forecast is glorious for Thursday. Even better is that the forecast is correct. We are go for launch - KCSV, here we come!
On the way to the airport I file our flight plan and get a weather briefing. I have already checked the winds aloft and recalculated the necessary portions of my flight planning. On. The. Ball.
I arrive a few minutes early, grunt something like good morning to CFI1 and begin the preflight. As I'm doing this, something small falls and hits the wing of the airplane and falls on the ground. I retrieve it and it appears to be about a 1/8" nut with some kind of grommet on it. I made a minimal effort to see whence it fell and then put it on the dash where I won't forget to show it to CFI1.
As he comes up, he sees it immediately and begins reinstalling it with the screw that fell out from around the canopy railing.
Me: <joking> Shouldn't you call the A&P over for that?
CFI1: This is the screw that holds the whole airplane together.
Me: You're only allowed preventative maintenance though, right?
CFI1: I'm *preventing* the rest of the airplane from falling apart.
Me: <laughs>
Now back to the flight planning, there is one minor wrinkle of which you should be made aware. During the planning I discover there's a 25 mile stretch with no discernible landmarks. No towns, no big towers, no Virgin Mary crop circles, nada. To make matters worse, if I end up south of the checkpoint that marks the end of that 25 mile stretch, I'll be uberlost as there are no terrain features there either. If I end up north of it, I'll at least know where I am because there's a big lake. I like big lakes more than I like flat, featureless terrain. I'm weird that way.
My unquestionable navigational genius, therefore, persuades me to enact an intentional slight northerly deviation from my carefully calculated magnetic heading. Yeah, that should do it. Sysvr4, you are clever personified. They will pickle your brain for further study when this is said and done.
So I start out about 7-10 degrees more north than is called for on my planning, and right away I'm having trouble locating our position using the map. I'm muttering aloud (I'm sure to the great amusement of CFI1) trying to find something and I see a little town. But there aren't supposed to be any towns here.
Me: Hmmm... that could be Smithville. But how in the world did it end up there? No way, can't be Smithville.... well, maybe.
CFI1: <silence>
Me: You're not gonna tell me are you?
CFI1: Nope.
How rude.
I finally spot a couple of terrain features that clue me in and I keep flying the current heading. Then, miracle upon miracles, I ended up over the lake, and, after a minor sweat, some hand-wringing, and lots of confused looks from CFI1, I know *exactly* where we are. I proclaim as much to CFI1.
Me: <proudly> Aha! We're here.
CFI1: Yep. On the sectional you'll see a clue here, here, and here <pointing out towers, highways, and such>
Me: You'll be happy to know I used all three of those things [to discern our location]
I can smell the formaldehyde already. Problem is that now I've got to guess a new heading to our next checkpoint because I'm about 8 miles north of where I should be. I guess 135 and CFI1 agrees. Or at least, he nods his head with a wry smile that could very easily signal impending trouble.
A few minutes go by and we're up over a town. As luck would have it, my next checkpoint is, in fact, a town. Yippee! Er, hold on there, Lindhberg...
There are two towns at a virtually identical longitudes which are separated by about 10 miles latitude. It occurs to me that if 135 wasn't the correct lotto number this week, I could, in fact, be looking at either of these two towns. Now begins a period of intense cartographic scrutiny.
Having carefully researched and thoroughly deliberated on the matter with myself, I proclaim with utter certainty that the town over which we have just passed is the original checkpoint and that we are on course. I'm feeling pretty darn good about it, too, I tell ya.
It is here that I ask you, gentle reader, to refer back to the subject of this post and, furthermore, to cast your mind back to a minor scribbling I made in my last writeup. Reproduced here for your convenience:
quote:
Originally posted by Sysvr4
All in all, I found navigating via pilotage to be a pretty simple affair. In fact, I was pretty surprised at how often and easily I was able to identify our exact position between checkpoints
After my near boastful proclamation of having pinpointed our position, CFI hands me a rather sizable metaphorical fork for the above words and requests their immediate consumption. I have chosen the wrong town. Damn. It.
He shows me a couple of things on the map that should have clued me in (but didn't). Making matters worse, immediately after he does so, I am able to show him a couple of different clues from the map which I missed that, again, would have told me definitively the town over which I was flying. This is no consolation to my damaged ego or full tummy.
Having no choice in the matter, I decide to shake it off (for now) and keep flying the airplane. After all, I *still* have yet to find our destination, and I find myself, yet again, in a position of guessing headings. Hmm... deja vu.
I fly my best guess heading and I'm looking for anything to tell me where I am. I am just beginning to panic and think about throwing in the towel when I *finally* spot the road I've been searching for converging just outside the town of Crossville (our destination). I silently thank every deity I can think of.
Let us not forget, however, that I still have not found the airport. I'm studying and studying my poor sectional again when...
CFI1: So where's the airport?
Me: Looking for that now.
CFI1: Where is it in relation to the town?
I look at the map and note that it's just west of the town, which should be off our right wing. I quickly glance that way and, if I weren't 1000 feet too high, I'd be on a perfect right base for the runway. I'm grossed out that it took any prodding at all to find it, but I reserve some degree of confidence that I would eventually have looked in that direction on my own. Probably.
As it turns out, I overfly the airport, check the sock, do a nice at-pattern-altitude entry and a very mediocre approach and landing. CFI1 directs me to the ramp so we can "stretch our legs".
Me: You really want to talk about how this went so wrong, right?
CFI1: Why don't you tell me instead all the things you did right?
Say what?! I was floored. I honestly couldn't think of anything for several seconds, I was so focused on all the negative stuff. My realization of that now disgusts me more than the errors I made.
I finally manage to come up with a few things I did right. Many of them I did very, very right, but I had overshadowed them with the bad stuff. Don't let this happen to you. When I make my next set of checklists, I'm going to insert, in random locations:
"Ask yourself what you did right!"
© CFI1, 2007, all rights reserved
On the ramp we do discuss how I got off course. Long story short... don't sweat a 25 mile stretch. Dead reckoning works if you let it. I, of course, thought I could outsmart nearly a century's worth of navigational teachings and experience. Turns out, not so much.
The return trip was very much uneventful. By that I mean that the landmarks stayed put and did not scramble around when they saw me coming. I even made a very nice straight-in final approach to Smyrna, if I say so myself. Landing... meh.
Later, in the office...
Me: So did that count as screwing up "majorly"?
CFI1: Look, you got a bit off course, but you fixed it. If I weren't there you could have used GPS as a last resort. I'm comfortable with a sign off for solo CC.
So that's how it'll be on Monday. Back to KCSV, all by my lonesome.
Tomorrow I fly with CFI3 again... hood work and finally that trip across Nashville. Oh, and another 50 foot runway. I'm ready for it this time, though. I intend to put some serious smackdown on that runway. Ok, bad choice of words.
Logged: 1.9
Comments
Dstang65
Junior Member
Registered: Jul 2007
Location: S.FL (KFXE)
Posts: 17
To quote a Guiness commercial...
"Brilliant!"
Another great write up.
Sounds like you are about there.
Good luck on the upcoming solo XC
Dan
clh
Senior Member
Registered: Dec 2005
Location: houston
Posts: 125
Remember, they paint town names on water towers so us lost pilots can figure out where we are. Nothing in the FARs says that we can't fly down to read a road sign either. LOL. Look forward to the XC wirte-up.
rjh
Member
Registered: Jun 2007
Location: KC
Posts: 27
More fine reading. Keep it up, and good luck on your XC.