Responsibility

So as forecast I’m beginning to get the start of anxious thoughts in the run up to my first solo away from the airport. Although no signs of throwing up yet, you’ll be glad to hear!

I’m trying hard not to dwell on the anxiety, on what could go wrong. I keep telling myself that none of the “disaster scenarios” that I’ve prepped for have ever occurred to me while Bob was in the plane, the chances of them happening on my first solo to Claremont are diminishingly small but shouldn’t be totally discounted. I also keep telling myself that Bob has a much better grasp of my abilities than I do. He’s always been better at judging what I am capable of than me.

Beneath the general undercurrent of nervousness (I think it’s safe to call it nervousness rather than panic), I’m feeling something else as well. I’m feeling what I can only describe as the weight of responsibility, pressing down on me a little.

When I first started this flying stuff it was all very easy. Bob made all the decisions. He decided if the weather was ok, what we did, where we went, how much control I had of the plane, what I said to ATC, what height we flew at, which runway we requested, if we had enough fuel, if the plane was fit to fly, hell even if I was fit to fly.

More and more of this stuff is becoming my responsibility. I have to make the call on these things. If I get a 150 rpm drop on one mag, ultimately it’ll be my decision to fly that plane or not. If the cloud base is at 3000ft, I need to be the one who decided if those conditions are ok for what we have planned. It’s even gotten to the stage where if I ask Bob what the plan for next lesson is, he asks me what I want to do. The idea being that I know what I need to achieve, I should be looking at the conditions and figuring out what we can do. What are the winds doing? What’s the cloud base at? What’s the forecast?

I’m acutely conscious of the fact that every small decision from now on will be my responsibility. Forget to visually check the fuel levels? Maybe the engine dies and that Practice Forced Landing loses the “Practice” part. Every tiny, small action, or inaction has a consequence and the burden of responsibility is shifting more and more towards me. Being “PIC” is more than just what column you log the time in.

I’m starting to feel the implications.