Muppet with a Go-Pro

Is the title of the photograph below.

Taken by my pilot passenger S.

Yeah it’s not the most beautiful picture of me in the entire world, but it shows one important thing.

No, not that no one looks good wearing a video camera welded to their head.

It shows me smiling.

I was having fun.

Please remember that even now, I get nervous before I get in that plane.

But once I’m up there, I’m all smiles.

I sent the photo to Bob (with the aforementioned caption) because I wanted him to see it.

Together we invested so much effort and time in getting me my licence. And now I’m loving every moment of it.

What it's all about

A day off work, relatively decent weather and a last minute decision to see if a plane was available all added up to a pretty sweet day!

I dropped an email to flying friend to see if they wanted to tag along and planned a nice little local jaunt around Lake Scugog. A flight, incidentally I’ve attempted a couple of times, but been thwarted on the weather front every time.

For once all the pieces seem to align. Flight services confirmed my take on the weather; clear, bright but with reasonable winds from the east. Those winds being the only minor spanner in the works, a little stronger than I’d like but they were straight down the runway, even if it was my old nemesis 08!

I’ve got a few blog posts to come about today but it was just amazing really. A totally uneventful but fun flight, no real purpose in mind other than to fly and enjoy the view.

Courtesy of my passenger S, I’ve got some awesome photos to share and the video is being Youtubed as we speak.

Looking back, this is what it was all about. The reward for sticking with my PPL training, for the early morning treks to the airport, the late night study sessions, the angst of whether I’d ever feel ready.

A spontaneous flight with a friend, enjoying the view, shooting the breeze and appreciating the sheer majesty of what we do.

Some days I think we all earn one of these

Why we don’t fly

I had a plane booking and a willing victim passenger. The sun was shining despite the temperature being a tad on the cool side.

It should have been a great day for flying. Made even better by the fact that I’m legitimately skiving off work to get the flight in.*

I’d started having second thoughts the night before when the TAF was calling for winds of 15 gusting 25 but irritatingly at 240 degrees.

Those winds are strong BUT if they WERE straight down the runway they’d probably be doable to a degree. Challenging but not impossible. Right on the border line.

Already I’m tending towards the NOT side of the decision tree.

Fast forward to the morning

While I’m gathering up the various items you need to fly a plane legally. RTH has pulled up the TAF, “Ermm do you really thing you need to do that he asks”

I inquire as to the latest numbers

Once I hear the 18 gusting 28 at 230, I stop packing up stuff and say “Yep, I guess I’m not going to need to drag this into the office then”

Once at work I phone down to cancel “I don’t fancy playing with those winds” I say. No one questions this in the slightest.

A little later I get a text from a new found flying friend “Good decision to cancel today’s flight, have you seen the GFA?”

Intrigued I take a look.

This is what I see (I’ve added the green arrow for the geographically challenged. This is CYTZ)

For those of you who don’t speak fluent GFA-ese

The following

Is shorthand for “you don’t have enough sick bags on board”

That’s why we don’t fly. 








*Boss wanted to fly with me, suggested a Friday afternoon, who am I to argue?

Why we fly

Last time when I was down at the airport, keeping up my currency I had the good fortune to run into Bob, he’d just finished up with a CPL student and was waiting on his next.

I’d just finished my “three times around the block” circuits for currency and was reasonably happy with how it all went.

We fell back into old routines quickly, chatting about flying, the world in general and our usual topics.

“How’s work?” Bob inquires.

“Hell!” I reply with the kind of laugh that indicates I’m actually being fairly truthful.

“And you?” I reciprocate.

He gives the half shrug and wry smile that I understand all too well.

“You too, huh? To be honest that’s one of the reasons I’m flying today. I just felt the need to burn through some sky. To be up there, even if it was just circuits, you know?” I respond.

A look passed between us, a moment of clarity and entire mutual understanding. Bob knew exactly what I was talking about.

“I used to do the same thing,” he confessed “have a bad day at work and just fly, then at least I’d have achieved something”

He’s 100% right. 

Flying is amazing, awe inspiring and satisfying. In the circuit there’s a rhythm, a cadence to the flying and yet you still have to be hyper aware as to what’s going on around you.

You switch off the parts of your brain that are p!ssed at your boss, the parts that are frustrated at the world and replace them with the memory of muscles needed to land, the mental processes need to parse what ATC is trying to do.

You can’t hang on to the useless crap that circulates through your mind at 3:00am in the morning. You are simultaneously exercising the most primal survival seeking parts of your brain as you do something that no human was ever designed to. While at the same time you need every single one your highest order mental processes to carry out the multitude of tasks required.

There’s simply no room for anything else.

All the emotional baggage you pick up just goes.

Flying is the ultimate paradox in that it demands total and utter concentration while at the same time totally clearing your mind.

And that’s why we fly

It’s all about the landings.

I made a joke about doing some circuits for my currency flight, in order to persuade myself that I haven’t forgotten how to land.

But the truth is that as far as your passengers are concerned, landings are all that matters. As a pilot you are judged on that split second when your tyres make that initial contact with the tarmac and nothing else.

Yes takeoffs might be impressive to a passenger, awe inspiring for sure. As a pilot, the takeoff is pretty much a routine affair. Planes want to fly. Line her up, apply power, keep her straight and eventually she’ll take off.

It’s pretty hard to mess up a standard takeoff.

During the actual flight, passengers will be impressed alright. But more by the scenery than anything else. While perhaps aware of the fact that you are somehow guiding the plane, chances are they’ll not be giving a second thought to your actual workload. They’ll be too busy admiring the view to admire how you are maintaining the perfect crab into the wind in order to get the plane pointing in the direction you want.

If your passengers are perceptive, they might pay at least a superficial acknowledgement to the sheer number of tasks you need to divert your time between.  Then they’ll go back to their camera.

It’s only on final to the runway that they’ll suddenly remember that they are in a plane and that they have to get back on the ground again.

This is when the knuckles turn white. Sometimes for pilots as well as their payload.

The final and sometimes sole memory they will take away from this flight is how well you manage that split second between being in the air and being on the ground.

Unlike pilots who have many criteria by which they judge a satisfactory landing. Passengers only have one.

Pilots evaluate the approach; was it stable? Did you hit your planned speed? Did you make good use of the flaps? Were you too steep? Too shallow? Did you need to drag it in?

We judge the landing as a whole. Were you on the centreline? Did you flare at the right time? Did you touch down on mains first? Or did you three point it into the tarmac? Did you bounce?

Passengers just want that greaser. That’s a good landing to them. They have no concept of crosswinds. They don’t know that sometimes it’s better to make a positive landing. That, in certain conditions, it is good technique to land on one wheel then the other.

Fortunately I have an ace up my sleeve.

Most of my passengers have a skewed reference point from which to form their opinion. If they have any experience of the commercial operations at CYTZ then they are expecting a heavy landing.

The runway here at CYTZ is on the short side for the Dash 8 Q400s that operate out of here. Short enough that they run with reduced passenger carrying capacity in order to reduce the weight. 

Consequently their operating procedures call for an early and firm landing. With fairly aggressive braking as well.

Once any passenger has experienced this, even my dodgiest landings are like kissing a cloud!

Truly solo

I finally caught a break in the weather on Saturday, long enough for me to get a quick hop in. In a spate of bad timing, I wanted to take a friend up on the Friday of next week but my currency lapsed on the preceding Monday.

Not a problem, seeing as the weather decided to cooperate, mostly. It was cold and a little windy but mostly sunny and bright. So I dutifully grabbed a plane for a quick 3 times round the circuit jaunt. Just enough to persuade myself that I do indeed remember how to land.

 It was the most bizarre flight I think I’ve ever done.

For a start it was the first truly solo flight I’ve done since getting my PPL.  Every other flight I’ve had either passengers or RTH or Bob on board. Someone else in the other seat.

That combined with the fact that the apron was completely and utterly empty, left me with a really strange feeling.

I picked up the keys from the previous pilot, signed the paperwork, filled in the flight sheet and grabbed my cushions.

“I’m just going to bash out some circuits.” I inform no one in particular. No one seems remotely concerned about what I’m planning on carrying out with the plane that has just been released to me.

Dispatch are busy shuffling planes and timings and the owner is busy haranguing dispatch.

Noone is remotely concerned about the ink-barely-dry-on-her-licence pilot and her intentions.

I complete my walkround on an eerily quiet apron, leaving the engine cover on until the very last minute. There’s not even anyone around to help me wrestle the beast back into the rear baggage compartment.

Finally as I go to start the engine, I lean out the window to call “CLEAR” and realise I am the only plane on the apron.

I look around one final time and mutter to myself, “I guess I’ll just start the engine then….”

“guys?.........anyone…….?”