Well, it’s finally here. The first lesson after Stage Check 1, which as you can read below, was a less than optimal experience. I’ll write more about this lesson later, but here’s proof that I WAS smiling after my lesson today.
Thanks to Certified Flight Instructor, Chris, for snapping this upon our safe return.
Number of take offs: 4
Number of landings: 4 (these should usually be equal)
Mistakes made: 1,345
Percent that I was so nervous my mouth was dry: 75
Times the instructor said “Just do it!”: 17. (What, is this guy Nike, or what?)
Price of lunch at the drive through afterwards: $4.65
All kidding aside, it was a good lesson, even if I wasn’t at my best.
I arrived around 7:30 and organized myself. Tom, the Chief Flight Instructor and my instructor for the day, was running behind. He’s a busy guy, since he runs the place, and was constantly being interrupted to take care of little management fires which seemed to be popping up.
We finally sat down together for the oral quiz about 8:15 or so and he took me through the usual suspects: What paperwork do you have to have on you when you fly? Which documents must the airplane have on board? That sort of thing. Airspace. Maps and charts. Navigation.
I thought I did pretty well on those. I missed a few, which is to be expected, particularly since I had been away from flying for extended periods of time. During the course of the conversation, he provided me with tips to make things easier, and clarified some questions I had. This was time well spent. As such things always do, It helped me to reinforce the things I did know, and point out the weaknesses.
On our way out to the plane, we had a chance to chat. Tom did, indeed, start flying in 1956, though he told me it took him nine years to get his private pilot’s license. He is retired from one of the major airlines, but wasn’t a pilot. Somewhere along the way, he said something about it being easier when you’ve had “10,000 hours doing this.”
By the numbers: I have 14.
Hours.
To say that I was intimidated would be accurate. To say that I performed poorly because of it would also be accurate.
To say that once we spent a little time in the air together, I found myself really liking him would also be accurate. He’s a funny guy with a strong laugh and a penchant for telling silly jokes. You know, like “mother-in-law” jokes. It was really somewhat endearing.
Anyway, he put me through all the moves, and praised me when I did right, and let me know when I screwed up. And, as I have said, I did that a lot. I got so nervous, I had a death grip on the yoke, which makes flying about….
By the numbers: Times harder it is to fly when you’re hanging on the yoke for dear life: 1,000
Anyway, after about an hour or so of my own frustration and three of the four landings, we headed back to Manassas. I shot the approach quite well, I thought, though his opinion was to fly by eye and ignore the existing runway visual aids for landing. I thought that was rather peculiar advice, given that I would think that any pilot would want any resource at his disposal. But his point about not always having them was well taken, after my experience in Ohio where there were none.
If you’re going to end, it’s best to end on a positive note. As I have always said, I’d rather be lucky than good, and this time I was lucky. I settled the plane in just as nicely as if I had been doing it every day. Tom said “Nice landing” more than once, so I think I got at least that right.
Once inside, we went back and went over the lesson and did the paperwork. Routine stuff.
The biggest lesson I learned from all this is that I talked myself into making this lesson way more difficult and nerve-racking that it needed to be. I was well prepared, academically speaking. I had reviewed the basic maneuvers in Ohio, so I wasn’t lacking in understanding. I just let my own performance anxiety keep me from being at my best. I talked myself into being intimidated by both the words “stage check” and by Tom when neither were warranted.
By the numbers: Balls present: an adequate pair.
I shoulda used ’em.
It’s too freakin’ early for this shit. It’s mornings like this I wish I had taken up power napping instead of aviation.
Off to the airport!
I have another whole day to freak out! I got a call at 8:40 this morning cancelling my lesson. (And while I am thinking about it, here’s just one of my many pet peeves: When people write or say “8:40 am in the morning.” AM is ALWAYS in the morning, you redundant dweeb!)
I am rescheduled for 8:00 tomorrow morning.
I have scheduled my Stage Check One AGAIN with the Chief Flight Instructor, Tom AGAIN and now I am all anxious AGAIN.
One mechanical cancellation and a weather cancellation prevented the previous attempts. Plus, the Blizzard of 2010 put the kibosh on much of my aviation activities for the last few weeks.
There will be significant academics in my newly adjusted weekend plans in preparation for this event.