Zen and the art of flying.

I have recently discovered that it’s not only the map reading gene I appear to lack, it’s also the map folding gene.

Once again, RTH puts me to shame here. His charts are magnificently folded; they are a work of art to behold. What else would you expect from someone who practices random acts of origami? His desk at home sports an assortment of origami animals, as do the shelves in our bedroom. I’ve always known that RTH has better spatial awareness than me but his skills come into a whole other dimension when it comes to chart folding. He can just look at it and instantly devise a system of folds that make cunning use of the existing structure but allow you to fold out the sections you are going to need en route, while at the same time the bits you are done with miraculously disappear back into the pack. All the time, somehow managing to fit it into the little pocket on his kneeboard.

I have yet to figure out how to use my kneeboard effectively, let alone how to affix a chart to it in such a way that I can actually use it. Here I’m trying Bob’s method of tucking the chart between the edge of the dash and the windshield until I need it, then utilising the yoke clip to attach it to when needed. Of course sorting all this out requires me to release my death grip on the yoke. Something I’m still not massively comfortable with.

Anyways, the basic jist is that RTH’s charts are a thing of beauty and mine look like someone attacked them with a rolling pin to get the creases to stay*. Every time we have a ground briefing that involves using my charts, I openly wince as Bob proceeds to unfold it as I know I’m never, ever going to be able to tame the thing back into the cockpit again!

I actually have this bizarre feeling that this’ll get easier when I’m doing solo stuff. I’ll have a whole empty seat to put my crap on!

 

*This may well be because I did, in fact, attack them with a rolling pin in order to get the creases to stay!