Two words

So the purpose of today’s “local drive east” was an interesting one. HB has recently introduced me to the concept of geocaching.

For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, well HB has a T-shirt that describes it as “using million dollar satellite equipment to find Tupperware in the woods”. For a more complete description try here or the official site here.

Urban geocaching is incredible fun. Places that you walk past everyday hide a veritable treasure trove of finds. The trick being to locate them and sign the log without being spotted. HB and I spent a fun morning locating caches within a very small local radius. As we looked online for likely candidates we realised that one site is actually visible from our window!

More rural locations though take on a whole other dimension in this weather. We set out, WMAP, HB and RTH on our drive, set on finding some more caches.

OK, if you are unaccustomed to our weather foibles, I have two words for you. Snow Banks.

Now HB is not a stranger to unforgiving terrain, or wildlife for that matter (interesting story about caching in Florida and a closer-than-you’d-really-like encounter with an alligator) but even he isn’t used to the sheer volume of snow we get.

What appears to be a simple “drive by” according to the website turns into a little bit more of an epic adventure. Often the “easily accessible” cache is the other side of a mound of snow, often the mound of snow is taller than me.

HB was also introduced to different types of snow, specifically compacted vs not. Compacted snow is fairly easy to walk on, non-compacted means you risk disappearing up to your knees in the white stuff. And this is exactly what happened, our foraging occasionally punctuated by yelps of peoples’ legs disappearing into the wild white yonder.

Apparently RTH and I can consider ourselves seasoned geocachers now as we both have sustained injuries associated with the hobby. I have scratches on my scalp from ducking through tree branches and RTH has managed to stab his palm with some sharp ice.

Even the more tame sites prove a little challenging this time of year. A bench in a village park, should be easy to spot you’d think but as we stomped through it, I read the description out loud. Hmm, that’s a little worrying, “Guys?! I think we’re standing on a pond. Can you hear creaking?”

Fortunately we didn’t end up in the pond, but we didn’t exactly stay dry either. Waterproof boots are fine, until the snow enters them from above.

190 kilometres and 8 caches later (would have been more but some were obviously not winter accessible) we returned home; exhausted, a tad damp but happy.

Two words summing up the day: Awesome fun!

Local drive east

I’ve got family visiting at the moment, specifically my brother. He’s hilarious to be around so shall henceforth be known as Hilarious Brother or HB.

I’ve been introducing HB to the various delights of Canadian life. He’s experienced a nice balmy spring day where the temperatures got up to around 5 degrees C where we went for a nice trek around town, followed by 15cm of snow the next day. That one we decided to sit out.

Today RTH kindly hired a car and we went for a little drive. We had a purpose in mind, which I’ll explain another post.

One of the fun things about today was our destination, we were heading to the Claremont area and beyond, hoping to end up somewhere around Lake Scugog. HB was already vaguely familiar with the areas as I’d pointed them out on my aviation charts. Regular followers will know that our practice area is mainly centred around Claremont.

As we discussed the route HB enquired “so how long will it take to get there?” A very reasonable question, you would think.

At this point I had to admit, rather shame-faced. “I don’t honestly know. I’ve only ever flown there!”

Almost a pilot.

I’m in a good place confidence wise at the moment. I’ve almost stopped thinking of myself as a student pilot. I guess I consider myself a pilot who just hasn’t passed her flight test yet.

I really think I’ve got the basics sorted now; I just need to gain experience and polish off the rough edges. I honestly know that I can do what I need to do to get my license. It’s just a matter of time now.

Of course time isn’t being kind to me, winter has just been totally brutal this year and the end still doesn’t seem to be in sight.

Last weekend RTH and I took a little jaunt to the base of Lake Simcoe, it suddenly dawned on me that RTH wasn’t doing anything that I couldn’t do. I could have handled that flight easily on my own. In fact, as RTH pointed out, at this point I’m actually more flight current than he is. A quick look in his log book revealed that, due to being in the circuit working on his night rating, he hadn’t been above 2000ft in nearly 6 months.

He actually asked me to remind him if he had missed anything or was about to do something stupid. This was kind of weird, a shift in the balance of power a little bit. I’m not used to being the “experienced” pilot in the cockpit but yes, I’m certainly more “away from the airport” current than RTH is.

The simple fact is that for all intents and purposes I’m a capable and competent pilot albeit a little low on the hours and experience.

I need to widen my horizons a little bit. I’m already expanding my comfort zone in terms of weather and crosswind capabilities.  Now I’m looking at new airports and cross country flights.

I’m also about to do something either incredibly brave or stupid. I’m about to take my first passenger on a trip to an airport that I’ve never flown to before. A full on flight with route planning, filing a flight plan and all that jazz.

Okay so Bob is going to be in the righthand seat but this is a massive step for me. I’m equal measures scared and excited and proud.

Something harder than flying.

RTH and I went on a little jaunt this weekend. Just a little flight to keep RTH in currency. It sparked off an interesting discussion though, about what is and isn’t acceptable behaviour from each other whilst flying.

Understand that when RTH started flying, he was the captain, in control of the plane, in charge of the flight. What he said went. And I didn’t know any better to think otherwise.

Now though, I’m starting to catch up with him in terms of ability and in some areas, experience. The lines have become a little bit blurred.

RTH and I have been married for a while, and have every intention of staying that way, so we are smart enough to realise that as this situation develops it has the potential to cause friction and we’d rather that didn’t happen.

The first stage is recognising the potential for conflict. Well we’ve figured that one out. Interestingly I was always worried that RTH wouldn’t be comfortable flying with me because of his control issues. For various reasons that I’ll go into in another post, I’m slightly reassured about that now. I’d never stopped to consider that I might develop into a “backseat flyer” but I have caught myself heading that way on occasion.

I think the key to harmonious cockpit relationships is recognising the fundamental difference in two issues. Style vs Safety. If you are about to comment or do something about an aspect of a flight you need to ask yourself, is this a style thing or a safety concern. Safety you should speak up, style you should probably keep your mouth shut (at least in that moment)

A couple of examples spring to mind: Me saying to RTH “Sweetie did you just skip an entire section of the checklist?” (He had) is perfectly acceptable. His reply: “DOH! Yes, thanks for spotting that”

Me thinking “Hmm, I’d normally have dropped 10 degrees of flap on approach to landing by now” is a style thing and not a flight safety issue and therefore I should keep my mouth shut.

Instead it makes for an interesting conversation post flight. Apparently pilot pillow talk consists of “so do you prefer to crab or slip on final”!

I’m hoping that by recognising the fundamental difference between the two that RTH and I maintain a healthy environment when we are together but I am learning that there is actually something harder than flying a plane.

Not flying it.

Better

Of course my aim in all this is to become a better pilot. Let’s face it, it shouldn’t be hard to become a better pilot when I’m barely one at the moment.

Recently though I’ve discovered that not only do I need to be a better pilot, I need to work on becoming a better passenger, especially when RTH is flying. I’m really conscious of the fact that I do get anxious up there sometimes, and whilst that’s kind of OK when I’m with Bob, it really isn’t that fair on RTH.

Now that I can cope with the bumps and jolts of mild to moderate turbulence, I needed to figure out what it is that causes me anxiety, in order to work on eliminating it. I don’t wanna stress RTH out, managing passengers is something I’m starting to become aware of.  From a pilot’s perspective, it brings its own challenges. I don’t want to add to them.

I rapidly realised that one thing that stresses me out, is what to do with my hands. This may sound silly but I worry about what to do with my hands when I’m a passenger. I want to make sure I don’t inadvertently grab hold of the yoke or anything stupid. Added to this is the fact that where you would normally rest your hands along the door frame, is exactly the point where the handle for the door release sits. I have visions of me opening the door mid-flight….. not good.

For your average person this wouldn’t be an issue but I don’t have hands that stay still. I need to be constantly doing something with them. If I’m watching TV or reading something at my desk then I’m fiddling with something. I have countless bits of ribbon or elastic or twist ties lying around my home that I mess with, all the time. At work I have a lump of sticky tack that I squeeze and mold while I’m working. I have to be careful in the winter, it leaches the moisture out of my hands and the skin cracks.

So I decided to solve the problem fairly easily. The last time I flew with RTH , I just put one of my fiddly bits of elastic in my hoodie pocket and happily occupied my hands that way.

It helped. A lot actually.

Seems silly but if it makes me a better passenger, then so be it. 

My pledge as a student.

Today’s flight was pretty much a carbon copy of what we had planned to do last lesson. Notice I say planned. Unfortunately we had to cut my last flight short due to my unhappy desire to revisit my previous meal.

I don’t know whether it was the bumpy conditions, the time spent under the hood, a slightly dicey stomach in general or any combination of the above but I did not feel good.  I tried taking a few deep breaths but midway through an attempt at a forced approach I had to admit to Bob that it wasn’t going to happen. I spent a good few minutes with my face pressed into the cool air vent while Bob reassured me that we’d take it nice and gently back to City.

Eventually I recovered enough to land the plane before expelling the offending stomach contents on the apron.

For today’s lesson I made sure that I’d eaten properly and was adequately hydrated beforehand. I did my stint under the hood and gladly removed it.

“How you doing?” Bob enquired.

I reassured him that I was fine. We carried on, some power on stalls.

“Are you feeling alright?” Bob asked.

Again, I was doing fine. This carried on every couple of manoeuvres. I tried not to let Bob’s over anxious concern bother me.

He’s not in a great position. He needs to check I’m OK without planting the idea in my head that I should be feeling ill. He needs to make sure that I feel comfortable telling him that I’m not doing ok without making a big deal of it. At the same time he doesn’t want to embarrass me.

It has the potential to be a no win situation really. Luckily for him, Bob’s dealing with a student who doesn’t embarrass easily and who isn’t shy in coming forward.

So that we don’t have to broach the subject again, here is my pledge as a student pilot…

… I do solemnly swear that I, WMAP, will inform my instructor at the first signs of impending nausea, and will take the appropriate avoiding action before it becomes an imminent issue.

I was fine this lesson though, must have just been a transient thing.

Easy decision.

As I mentioned Bob is away this weekend and had arranged for someone else to sign me out. He’d wrote his usual epic essay in my PTR outlining what I was authorised to do and arranged for one of the other instructors to brief me beforehand.

Bob had all the bases covered, except the damn weather of course. Now this is a problem, the weather has been so variable lately sometimes with the METAR/TAF not exactly telling the entire story either. Take last lesson for example, the winds were decidedly on the marginal side, not just strength but direction as well. Last lesson I elected not to go solo, but if faced with the same choice again I’d probably give it a go. Bob was quite complementary about my crosswind landing.

From Bob’s point of view though, the unknown weather is slightly problematic. He’s not around to look out the window and oversee my decision. He has to trust my judgement and another instructors.

The day before I got a text confirming the time and a gentle reminder of all the sources of information available to me in order to make a decision.

Turns out I didn’t really need any of them. I set the alarm, woke up and looked out of the window. Mist was cutting visibility down to the next building on the block. Hmm, not a great start. Without bothering to get out of bed, I reach for my phone. METAR looks crap, ditto for the TAF.

RTH makes an enquiring grunt from somewhere in the midst of the duvet. “Buttonville is reporting ceilings at 1200ft” I say.

“What’s the prediction for when you take off?” asks RTH

“800” I reply gloomily.

So that is an easy decision. No point even phoning flight services. The only decision I have to make now is when to call the flight school. I want to give the other instructor plenty of notice but don’t want to call too early and risk no one being there to pick up.

Eventually I call two hours before my flight. I speak to dispatch, “Hey J, it’s WMAP. I’ve got a flight at 10, I’m cancelling due to weather.”

We have a brief chat to confirm who needs to be informed (not Bob this time!) and he assures me he’ll make the arrangements.

Immediately I feel vindicated, J’s our resident weather expert. He’s also a lot less conservative than me. If he isn’t batting an eyelid that I’m cancelling then I’ve made the right choice. This is also confirmed by the fact that I don’t see a single light aircraft take off that morning.

I like weather decisions that can be made from the comfort of your bed!