When did this become routine?

I was about to head off on a solo flight to the practice area and was waiting for Bob to finish up briefing his previous student.

This student in particular seems to be powering through his training, he’s off on his solo cross country. I remember when he was pre solo.  Still we are not in competition and personally I think that Bob probably deserves a student who’s a little a little sharper on the skill and lower on the angst-side for a change. Either that or no one's told him that you are meant to have an emotional meltdown before you get in the plane.

Bob and I do a very quick briefing but it’s not really that necessary. I know what I need to do and how to accomplish it. Before I know it I’m strapped in, going through my preflight checks and have started her up.

The trip out to Claremont is uneventful, the view spectacular. It occurs to me as I make the trip to the practice area, every landmark so easy to spot, every key point familiar in the extreme, that this route has become almost…..mundane. Routine even.

It holds no mysteries for me. Even though there’s extensive chatter on the practice area frequency, I have enough local knowledge to appreciate that none of them are in my way. I even manage to spot that whoever is flying JES has misplaced their position. The time and distance between their two stated positions being an impossibility.  Sure enough a minute later comes the correction.

On my return I ask Bob “when did the trip out to Claremont become so routine?” He merely smiled that indulgent smile I’ve come to recognise, it usually appears straight after I’ve achieved something that I claimed was impossible 5 minutes previously.

At the same time though, whilst commenting that he’s never seen me so relaxed about flying, he’s sensitive to the fact that I’m encountering some difficulties. Difficulties that he reassures me most students go through.

I’m not so comfortable with the airwork. It seems counterintuitive to me. I’m having a hard time stalling the plane, for example, because I’m used to either recovering well before it gets to that stage or simply not putting myself that close to the edge of the envelope in the first place.

Cross country flying is all about planning and precision. Smooth climbs, planned descents. Something I’d actually gotten quite good at on my second cross country.

Now I’m being asked to go back to the extremes. Yanking the control column back to a point I’d never, ever manage in flight. I’m not happy doing it and yet I know that I’m going to have to.

When I pointed out to Bob that I should get bonus points on my flight test for NOT stalling the plane, he just smiled that smile again.

My research on the internet has led me to believe that students undergo two major “learning plateaus” in their training, as well as the more minor peaks and troughs.

One is when they first start doing circuits. Well yep for sure I hit that one alright! The second is on the run up to their flight test. I remember RTH telling me the lesson before his flight test he failed to make the field every single time on his many forced approach attempts.

I can’t imagine I’ll be any different.