It is seriously stressful, not the recovering from an unusual attitude
but the anticipation leading up to it. I’m sitting there, foggles on. Hands up
on the dashboard, head bent down; desperately trying to gauge what Bob is doing
to the plane, despite knowing that the whole point of the exercise is that you can’t
sense what is going on. I'm on tenterhooks for every small change in engine sound. Second guessing what is going on.
Bob calls “recover” and adrenaline shoots through me. Momentarily
confused, I feel like we are nose up but the ASI is creeping upwards towards
the red. Despite what my inner ear tells me, I decide to pull back on the throttle.
Next I sort out the wings; high airspeed means we were never close to stalling,
despite my brain telling me that we were nose high. A touch of aileron input
will sort that bank angle out.
I wait for Bob to tell me that I messed up, that I mistook a stall
for a spiral or vice versa. Nothing. So let’s get us flying again. Cruise
attitude, a touch of power and we are flying again. Needles back to where I’d expect them
Recovery good, a little slow in getting us flying again. Not too
shabby after all. It’s still a crappy thing to do to a control freak though!
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