Why am I doing this?

A reasonable question, but  not one I ask myself on a regular basis if I’m 100% honest. I mean I never really question the fact that I’m going to spend my weekends or money doing what I do.  I just kind of turn up and fly!* I’ve always been interested in aviation stuff, mostly from a physics point of view. I probably have a bordering on unhealthy interest in air crash investigations but I can honestly say never in my life have I ever held an ambition to be a pilot. Until now.

Lots of people talk about how they’ve always dreamt of being a pilot, of defying gravity, of gaining the immense sense of freedom that flying seems to give them. I read this statement on someone else’s blog (they were talking about the abysmal dropout rate from people starting their PPL to finishing)

“It’s reasonable to conclude that student and certificated pilots tend to be goal-oriented people: They want to learn something challenging and, by doing so, exhibit skill, confidence, and competence.”

So I started analysing that particular paragraph:

Am I a “goal-oriented” person? – Maybe. Possibly not.  When I left school I knew exactly what I was going to do.  I was going to university; I was going to leave the UK as soon as practically possible. I was never going to have time for a boyfriend, let alone marriage (which I didn’t really believe in anyways). Of course by the age of 19 I was engaged and had gotten married before I even finished my degree! The moving to another country did happen, but much later on.  When I did emigrate I literally had no plans other than where we were going to eat breakfast the first day (I’m a sucker for Fran’s). Neither of us had a job or a place to live. I knew I didn’t want to teach anymore but I had no idea beyond that. Consequently I spent about a year in a half-arsed attempt to find work before settling into something that was way below my skill set, but paid reasonably well.** I wouldn’t exactly call that the life plan of a goal-oriented person.

Did I want to “learn something challenging”? – Well again not really. To be honest I really don’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone. Myself included. I don’t need to “exhibit skill, confidence and competence” through flying because, quite frankly, I demonstrate that quite well every day. I have a job I’m bloody good at, with real prospects for the future. A degree in a subject that would make most people run away crying.  I'm happily married and am generally content. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

And yet, here I am spending a substantial part of my life learning to fly. There has to be some reason. I’m not exactly a whimsical person so there must be some logic behind all this, because I am very determined that I’m going to do this and get my PPL, until someone sits me down and tells me it’s never going to happen.

The truth is,

I started it,

I liked it

and now I’m too damn stubborn to quit!

 

* Before anyone shoots me down in flames. I do a little more prep than that!

** I’m actually still at the same place, slowly working my way up.

Power + attitude = performance

Yet another of Bob’s little mantras (I’m thinking we need an “often heard phrases part 3” soon!) This one is all about making the plane do what you want it to, basically the power setting, combined with the nose pitch decides what the plane will actually do (climb , descend etc.).

Well I’m mixing this up a little, for me the equation is results = confidence = enthusiasm = performance (it reads backwards as well!). Let me explain, the more I achieve, the more I build up my teeny tiny shreds of confidence and the better I do. This has become readily apparent in my last few lessons.  My enthusiasm is just soaring at the moment. I’m enjoying every single moment up there, I can feel the improvements, and I can see the results. I’m learning new stuff and loving it.

When I got bogged down in the circuit it was very hard to appreciate that every time I went up there I was improving. The improvements were small. Significant but on a small scale, finesse rather than gross skills. Important but soul sapping at the same time.

The stuff I’m doing now is fun, albeit in an “OMG-I-can’t-believe-we-get-so-close-to-the-ground” kind of way! It’s rekindling my enthusiasm but more importantly it is bolstering my confidence. After I soloed I still kind of had the “you got lucky” mindset  in that yes, I managed to fly a circuit and yes I got the plane back in one piece and no I didn’t violate any major regulations but any fool can pull that off once. I knew that I would be expected to do more of those solo circuits in succession and really wasn’t sure if I was up for it. Then the weather stepped in and has been out of solo limits for a long time now (typical winter weather here in the Great White North.) Now spring is (hopefully!) just around the corner and the other stuff we’ve been doing out in the practice area has helped a lot. Hell if I can navigate us out there and back with no major traumas I’m fairly certain that I can manage two or three trips around the circuit without getting lost. Compared to the workload I have been experiencing, this should be a doddle*

I know that next time Bob asks me if I want him to get out and let me do a few on my own. I don’t think I’ll be bottling out. Sure my heart will still be trying to thump its way out of my mouth, but I’m willing to give it a go.

 

* yeah don’t worry, I’m also aware of the consequences of over confidence. I don’t think that is going to be an issue!

Struggling with my synapses

This may sound a bit weird but I’m kind of enjoying making the mistakes up there and let’s face it I make enough of them.

Seriously though, every mistake I make now is something that I won’t do again and allowing me to make the mistake in the first place means that I don’t get tetchy with Bob for pointing them out.

It’s a drawn out process for sure but I see little glimmers of hope every now and again. I’ve moved beyond blindly accepting ATC instructions, this time I at least realised that making a left turn into some buildings wasn’t a great idea.  My mind is just that little bit slower than Bob’s though, at parsing the information and figuring out what I need to do. I thought it might be fun to compare the mental processes that we both go through when issued with the following ATC instruction:

ATC: change of plan – make a turn to the south to join the right downwind for 33

Me:  ok south is that way and the runway will be on my right*, hang on those buildings there are probably more than 2000ft, am I going to hit them if I turn? Hmm okaaay what did ATC actually say, they said turn south, I can turn the other way to face south, YAY let’s do a 270 degree turn instead

Bob: make a 270 degree turn

*Bob’s thought process kicked in around this point. My mind still has a way to go before I reach the conclusion that he gets to in about 30 microseconds! I’m not bothered though. The fact that my mind is actually thinking through this stuff now is an improvement. I’m getting to the right conclusions, eventually.

Same kind of thing on the way out, Bob’s constantly repeating “Aviate, Navigate, Communicate” to me. I’ve quickly come to learn that usually he’s saying this because I’m failing to do one of these things. For “aviate” usually I’m fixating on the chart and have inadvertently started us into a sure but steady dive for example.

Today’s flight, I had just cleared the control zone and had got myself sorted with a heading to the practice area. As an aside here Bob has gotten wise to my “alternative method” of navigating to the practice area. Basically you have two choices once you leave the zone. One, you get out your chart and fumble around trying to read off a direction and then correct for the wind to get your heading or two, you carry on following the shoreline until you get to the nuclear plant and then follow the road directly north. Method two is longer but easier. Guess which one Bob makes me do!

So where was I? Oh yeah, Bob was doing his usual “aviate etc.” I run through them one by one

Aviate – we are holding both our altitude and course, no problems there

Navigate - course looks good, no issues there.

Communicate - I’ve just been cleared en route, yeah probably should do a position call, Hmm something doesn’t feel right, OHHHH I’m still on tower frequency , that’s why it has gone quiet. Right let’s switch over then and make that call!

Now it’ll be an almost Pavlovian response, cleared en route = switch frequency. Much more effective than telling me to do it as part of the pre-flight brief.

Bit by bit I’m rearranging those synapses into something resembling a coherent thought process. Boy it’s slow sometimes though.

 

It’s the little things…

…that get me excited! I was really happy with today’s flight. Two forced approaches and made the fields both times (although I will admit to “losing” the field temporarily on my first go). I also managed to figure out where the hell I was.  I even knew which way was North! Listening to the soundtrack of the flight is mildly amusing to say the least. I’ve never heard anyone so enthusiastic about spotting a road. I was positively beside myself with glee when I spotted a train, thus confirming that they were indeed railroad tracks below us. And as for spotting the zoo, well you’d think I’d won the lottery.

None of this though, compared to my absolute amazement at making the field when attempting the 360° approach to a forced landing. On the ground I’d struggled with visualising this method. The math made sense to me but I just couldn’t picture in my brain what to do with the plane. Still I figured I’d give it a go and see what happened. Turns out it makes a whole load of sense up there. I picked put my field, got myself positioned up, started my rate one turn and gently orbited my way down.

The video is on YouTube. Yes, I was that excited about making it down! To cap off a pretty solid flight, I nailed that approach and landing to 33. Sweet!

A typical week at work

Monday – tell everyone about flying at the weekend

Tuesday – tell the people I missed on Monday about flying at the weekend

Wednesday – Start stalking the weather to see if I’m likely to be flying at the weekend

Thursday – Start catching upon the reading I need to do to fly at the weekend

Friday – Text Bob about flying at the weekend

Saturday – go flying!

 

Design flaws.

Physically I’m really not designed for flying, and I don’t just mean the lack of wings. I've already mentioned that I’m too short to reach anything useful without assistance. The word clumsy may well have been invented to describe me. Flying is more art than science and  I dropped art at grade 9 after getting an “F”*

Physically, flying is a delicate act, all finesse and fingertips. Well if you met me for more than 5 minutes, “delicate” isn’t exactly the adjective that would immediately spring to mind. I’m more your “person-who-knows-exactly-where-to-thump-the-photocopier-to-get-it-to-work” kinda gal.

I’m clumsy, uncoordinated and capable of putting my foot in it both literally and metaphorically. Seriously sometimes I feel that teaching me to fly is like trying to shove a baby elephant into the passenger seat of a car. Technically possible but not comfortable for anyone involved.

I guess the flips side of that is that I’m not a precious little flower who turns her nose up at the smell of aviation fuel and doesn’t mind getting her pretty little hands dirty when checking the oil.

I just wish my legs reached the peddles and I could see over the instrument panel

 

* Quite an achievement seeing as the grades went from A to E !

And so it begins.

Today is quite an important anniversary for me. On the face of it not immediately linked to flying but in actual fact inexorably intertwined with the whole deal.
One year ago today I was in hospital having fairly major abdominal surgery. I mention this, not because I want sympathy, actually the complete opposite. It was the best thing I ever had done and has allowed me to start what feels like a completely new life.

I’d been feeling crappy for a while, although I didn’t realise just how crappy and after faffing around with various tests, treatments and other medical interventions which didn’t leave me with any answers* or feeling any better. I opted for what I call “the engineer’s solution.” It goes something like this:

Do I need the organ in question?

No.

Will my symptoms stop if I have it removed?

Yes.

Then book me in for surgery!

None of this messing around with, “well we could try X drug and some people have had an improvement if they try Y.” Nope, I was fed up and wanted rid.

Modern surgical techniques are astounding. No question. I don’t ever recall feeling “in pain” sure I was uncomfortable for a while but never really in pain. I stopped with the prescription painkillers after 2 days (this may or may not have had anything to do with the fact that you couldn’t drink while taking them!) The tiny scars are all but invisible now. Even after a relatively short time they were hard to find. We had to go hunting for them at my aviation medical!

I consider myself fortunate to live in a country that has such amazing healthcare. I didn’t consider the waiting time to be too excessive (I’m a realist; I wasn’t suffering from anything life threateningly urgent). I had a great surgeon, with fantastic continuity of care. All of this and not a cent out of pocket from me**, not because I’m rich or because I have great insurance but because that’s the way things work here.

The road to recovery was probably longer than I would have liked, but I was aware that I only had one chance to do this properly. Doing something stupid would probably cause permanent damage. Again I was lucky when work didn’t bat an eyelid at the 5 and a bit weeks I eventually ended up taking off. Probably in part because I left detailed plans of what needed to be done and when. End upon end of bullet-pointed instructions and timelines. I also insisted on a handover training period for the temp. It went as well as could be expected and no one held it against me that the temp they hired turned out to be a complete and utter psychopath***!

There were a few hurdles along the way, sheer boredom being one of them. When I eventually got mobile I did some stupid things inadvertently like pushing through the turnstile at a subway station with my stomach first! OUCH!!! Even a few months later my lack of stomach muscles gave me issues. Pushing the plane back into a parking spot left me feeling it for days and there was just no way I was going to be able to twist enough to get up onto the wings for my preflight****.

As an aside I'm eternally grateful for living in a city like Toronto where no one bats an eyelid if you wander round the city during the day time in your PJs!

So what does this all have to do with flying? Well it’s hard to explain but within a very short space of time it became clear to me that I’d got more energy than I’d had in years and quite frankly it felt like a massive weight had been lifted from me. I was never going to have to worry about certain things ever again. When you’ve gone through medical stuff that involves biopsies and waiting weeks for results, you start to look at things very differently, no matter what the eventual outcome is. Some of it is physical; a lot of it is psychological.

I wanted to do something, anything with my “new life”. I wasn’t tired anymore. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. Fear of flying had the potential to hold me and RTH back from our travel plans. It was time to do something about it. I’d never let my fear stop me from travelling, but quite frankly I was sick of feeling that way every time I got on a plane. RTH was working on his PPL. I wanted to fly with him. Something had to change.

I’ve never been one for small gestures. Go big or go home. So I started on the biggest adventure of my life. I’ve never regretted it for a second!

 * even after the surgery, I still don’t have a definitive diagnosis, but the op has worked!

 ** Yes I’m aware of how healthcare is actually funded and that I do pay for it, albeit indirectly. I have no problem with this when you look at the alternatives.

 *** Serious nutjob, but I think it made them appreciate me even more, so I’m not complaining!

**** Still prefer not to!