I Had a Good Day
Flying Club - 02
Tuesday dawns bright and sunny. I am up and showered early. I need to take full advantage of the weather, as Wednesday and Thursday now look very doubtful for flying VFR. Luckily, I can extend my stay through Saturday, if I need the time to log my hours.
I get into my flying suit, grab my pilot bag and helmet, and walk over to club house for breakfast. Coffee, fruit with yogurt, more coffee. I chat with a group of the trainees, waiting for their lessons. One girl, Irina, says she won't be flying until this afternoon, so I invite her come with me. I can't give her a formal lesson, I am not qualified for that, but it will be some experience for her.
We take our coffees to the operations centre, to talk with the CFI. He approves my plan for local circuits, tells me there is Cessna I can take now or PA-38 in preparation, ready in about half hour. I don't much like high-wing aircraft, just prejudice, so decide to finish coffee in peace and take the Tomahawk.
I chat with Irina. She is 26 years, marketing consultant from L'viv. Married but not living with husband. She saved for four years, since she started working, for her flying lessons. I do not say my lessons were gift, but I think she must have decent salary to afford lessons after only four years saving. She is quite glamorous, but not really my type - and not only because she is straight.
It is nearly one hour before CFI lets me know that Tomahawk is on the apron, fuelled, ready for my pre-flight checks.
The Tomahawk looks a bit sad, could do with some new paint, but is mechanically sound. I tell Irina to shadow me as I complete my exterior preflights. Then we climb aboard and I take a few moments to familiarise myself with the controls and indicator layout. It is all very comfortable. I go through the cockpit checks with Irina and then prepare to start the motor.
Everything is smooth as I taxi out to the main runway, keeping in touch with the tower as there is a bit of traffic, coming and going. I have to wait at the holding point while an Antonov AN-2 lumbers down the runway and claws its way into the air. Then another PA-38 comes in to land. The tower gives me permission to enter the runway and take off. I line up, exactly on the centre line. Everything by the manual. Flaps set, accelerate to air speed 100km/hr, gently back on stick to rotate. Continue acceleration to 130km/hr as I climb away from field and gently turn to port. When I am not talking to tower, I try to give Irina commentary on what I do - an interesting exercise in self-awareness.
I have the aircraft for 1hr30. My plan is to fly some local circuits, a couple of touch and go practice landings, and a simple out and back navigation exercise. If there is time, I will show Irina a simulated engine failure procedure, as she has not done one yet.
I find Tomahawk pleasant to fly, nothing at all exciting about it. I let Irina take controls for some straight and level flying, so she can get accustomed to the feel of it. I also give her the local chart and ask her to chose an objective within 20 minutes flying time and prepare to navigate us there.
By keeping in close communication with the tower, I am able to slot my practice landings into the other traffic, without any disruption. Then I climb away to 1700m altitude and pass the navigation to Irina.
She is cautious, or not very imaginative. She has chosen a route that follows the line of a main road, then branches off where a railway line crosses it. So not very challenging for either of us. I give her the controls again for a while, it is interesting to see how intense her concentration is. I was so much younger when I first piloted an aircraft, and I knew immediately I was in my element. I guess Irina will make a good, competent pilot, but she will never become one with the aircraft.
We reach our waypoint and turn back on a heading for home field. The flight is uneventful. Irina and I, we are quite relaxed together and talk about our ambitions. She wants to be independent, free of husband, who she says is a bit of a deadbeat.
I take the Tomahawk into the circuit and line up final approach. Cleared by tower to land, I bring us in gently, happy that there is very little crosswind. A good landing, not my best but more than adequate. Then clear runway at first opportunity and taxi round to apron. Once parked, I run through the procedures for shutting down motor. And we are done.
I thank Irina for her company and help, hope she enjoyed the flight. We go to operations centre to check in, officially hand back aircraft. We fill in our logs. Irina is quite impressed by the number of hours I have flown. I explain this has been bad year and I am trying to catch up.
As we head back to our separate cabins, I admit, a thought crosses my mind... but it is not a good idea.
After lunch, I take the Tomahawk again for a solo flight. This is more extensive. My flight plan is triangular cross country exercise, with one landing out, at an unfamiliar airfield. Once again I complete all the preflight checks - never take anything for granted - and ensure I have enough fuel for the flight, plus a good safety margin.
Once airborne, I am navigating by map and visual reference. I have GPS as backup, but I enjoy the challenge, watching time and airspeed, noting the effect of the wind and correcting for it.
Flying solo is strange, you are apart from the world, apart from life other than the immediate element you exist in. I guess it must be same for solo sailor. To me, I feel it as a metaphor for my life, as though the air I breathe is not quite the same as for everyone else.
I find the airfield more or less where and when I expected, after a few course corrections. Landing was fine and I had a good welcome from the members. Their coffee was truly excellent. And their bathroom most agreeable. After about half an hour of pleasant talk and an invitation to them to fly over to our field sometime, for a meal, I was soon back in the air, on the second leg of my journey.
Nothing more to distract me. I fly on to my planned turning point, and set my course for home.
It is late afternoon by the time I am entering the circuit. On downwind leg I get message from tower, go around, someone is dawdling on runway. So I take it round again and this time land without incident, although not without bumps. It is my least good landing for the day. I must be more tired than I thought.
After completing all the procedures as earlier, I handed the aircraft back, and updated my log. I sat for about 30 minutes in clubhouse, just unjangling my nerves. Sometimes I do not know just how "jangled" they become. Irina is there. She had a good lesson, said she felt a bit more confident after out flight. She is friendly, I am... what? Lonely? Yes, a bit, though I am accustomed to that. Wound up? In need of some release? For sure, that would do me good. But now, with Irina? I know it is just not a good idea.
If she is here later in week, I will offer her another flight. See what happens then.
I go to my cabin, shower and drop onto bed. Drift into reverie, until I feel the cool evening air making goosepimples on my skin.
I dress, jeans, tee shirt, leather jacket and walk over to clubhouse. Three of the guys have got together to prepare a meal of pasta with tomato sauce. It is really good. I eat more than I need and I start to feel grounded again.
Yes, it has been a good day. They open some bottles of wine. I allow myself a glass. In celebration.
Tuesday dawns bright and sunny. I am up and showered early. I need to take full advantage of the weather, as Wednesday and Thursday now look very doubtful for flying VFR. Luckily, I can extend my stay through Saturday, if I need the time to log my hours.
I get into my flying suit, grab my pilot bag and helmet, and walk over to club house for breakfast. Coffee, fruit with yogurt, more coffee. I chat with a group of the trainees, waiting for their lessons. One girl, Irina, says she won't be flying until this afternoon, so I invite her come with me. I can't give her a formal lesson, I am not qualified for that, but it will be some experience for her.
We take our coffees to the operations centre, to talk with the CFI. He approves my plan for local circuits, tells me there is Cessna I can take now or PA-38 in preparation, ready in about half hour. I don't much like high-wing aircraft, just prejudice, so decide to finish coffee in peace and take the Tomahawk.
I chat with Irina. She is 26 years, marketing consultant from L'viv. Married but not living with husband. She saved for four years, since she started working, for her flying lessons. I do not say my lessons were gift, but I think she must have decent salary to afford lessons after only four years saving. She is quite glamorous, but not really my type - and not only because she is straight.
It is nearly one hour before CFI lets me know that Tomahawk is on the apron, fuelled, ready for my pre-flight checks.
The Tomahawk looks a bit sad, could do with some new paint, but is mechanically sound. I tell Irina to shadow me as I complete my exterior preflights. Then we climb aboard and I take a few moments to familiarise myself with the controls and indicator layout. It is all very comfortable. I go through the cockpit checks with Irina and then prepare to start the motor.
Everything is smooth as I taxi out to the main runway, keeping in touch with the tower as there is a bit of traffic, coming and going. I have to wait at the holding point while an Antonov AN-2 lumbers down the runway and claws its way into the air. Then another PA-38 comes in to land. The tower gives me permission to enter the runway and take off. I line up, exactly on the centre line. Everything by the manual. Flaps set, accelerate to air speed 100km/hr, gently back on stick to rotate. Continue acceleration to 130km/hr as I climb away from field and gently turn to port. When I am not talking to tower, I try to give Irina commentary on what I do - an interesting exercise in self-awareness.
I have the aircraft for 1hr30. My plan is to fly some local circuits, a couple of touch and go practice landings, and a simple out and back navigation exercise. If there is time, I will show Irina a simulated engine failure procedure, as she has not done one yet.
I find Tomahawk pleasant to fly, nothing at all exciting about it. I let Irina take controls for some straight and level flying, so she can get accustomed to the feel of it. I also give her the local chart and ask her to chose an objective within 20 minutes flying time and prepare to navigate us there.
By keeping in close communication with the tower, I am able to slot my practice landings into the other traffic, without any disruption. Then I climb away to 1700m altitude and pass the navigation to Irina.
She is cautious, or not very imaginative. She has chosen a route that follows the line of a main road, then branches off where a railway line crosses it. So not very challenging for either of us. I give her the controls again for a while, it is interesting to see how intense her concentration is. I was so much younger when I first piloted an aircraft, and I knew immediately I was in my element. I guess Irina will make a good, competent pilot, but she will never become one with the aircraft.
We reach our waypoint and turn back on a heading for home field. The flight is uneventful. Irina and I, we are quite relaxed together and talk about our ambitions. She wants to be independent, free of husband, who she says is a bit of a deadbeat.
I take the Tomahawk into the circuit and line up final approach. Cleared by tower to land, I bring us in gently, happy that there is very little crosswind. A good landing, not my best but more than adequate. Then clear runway at first opportunity and taxi round to apron. Once parked, I run through the procedures for shutting down motor. And we are done.
I thank Irina for her company and help, hope she enjoyed the flight. We go to operations centre to check in, officially hand back aircraft. We fill in our logs. Irina is quite impressed by the number of hours I have flown. I explain this has been bad year and I am trying to catch up.
As we head back to our separate cabins, I admit, a thought crosses my mind... but it is not a good idea.
After lunch, I take the Tomahawk again for a solo flight. This is more extensive. My flight plan is triangular cross country exercise, with one landing out, at an unfamiliar airfield. Once again I complete all the preflight checks - never take anything for granted - and ensure I have enough fuel for the flight, plus a good safety margin.
Once airborne, I am navigating by map and visual reference. I have GPS as backup, but I enjoy the challenge, watching time and airspeed, noting the effect of the wind and correcting for it.
Flying solo is strange, you are apart from the world, apart from life other than the immediate element you exist in. I guess it must be same for solo sailor. To me, I feel it as a metaphor for my life, as though the air I breathe is not quite the same as for everyone else.
I find the airfield more or less where and when I expected, after a few course corrections. Landing was fine and I had a good welcome from the members. Their coffee was truly excellent. And their bathroom most agreeable. After about half an hour of pleasant talk and an invitation to them to fly over to our field sometime, for a meal, I was soon back in the air, on the second leg of my journey.
Nothing more to distract me. I fly on to my planned turning point, and set my course for home.
It is late afternoon by the time I am entering the circuit. On downwind leg I get message from tower, go around, someone is dawdling on runway. So I take it round again and this time land without incident, although not without bumps. It is my least good landing for the day. I must be more tired than I thought.
After completing all the procedures as earlier, I handed the aircraft back, and updated my log. I sat for about 30 minutes in clubhouse, just unjangling my nerves. Sometimes I do not know just how "jangled" they become. Irina is there. She had a good lesson, said she felt a bit more confident after out flight. She is friendly, I am... what? Lonely? Yes, a bit, though I am accustomed to that. Wound up? In need of some release? For sure, that would do me good. But now, with Irina? I know it is just not a good idea.
If she is here later in week, I will offer her another flight. See what happens then.
I go to my cabin, shower and drop onto bed. Drift into reverie, until I feel the cool evening air making goosepimples on my skin.
I dress, jeans, tee shirt, leather jacket and walk over to clubhouse. Three of the guys have got together to prepare a meal of pasta with tomato sauce. It is really good. I eat more than I need and I start to feel grounded again.
Yes, it has been a good day. They open some bottles of wine. I allow myself a glass. In celebration.
