Today is the third anniversary of my solo flight. I remember the day, though through the fog that remains when events snowball before you’re quite sure what’s happening to you. Every pilot you meet will tell you he/she remembers solo day like it happened yesterday. I have to say that I don’t. If it weren’t for my journal and the photos taken by MK and her husband, I’d probably not remember it at all…
Early morning airport weather showed nearly no wind, straight down the runway, the ceiling marginally low. My girlfriend’s husband had his flight lesson directly before mine, and MK had driven to the airport in case this turned out to be S’s solo day, as we all assumed it would be.
When I arrived, the three of them – MK, S, and our instructor – were walking in from the plane. S had just solo’d, and MK taken photos of the shirt ceremony. I told them I was going to lock myself in the bathroom. Instructor P said you go ahead and do that, but we have a master key.
MK and her husband headed to breakfast and I walked out to preflight. Every move I made felt focused this time, no idle chatter on my part. It dawned on me that I might know what I was doing. We stayed in the pattern and did three touch and goes. My third landing was good. A surprise go-around was next.
The airport VP radioed up to ask if we wanted to go on today’s fly out. Instructor P told him no thanks; we’re going to work on some other things….and that’s when I knew. I completed one more trip around the pattern, then a full stop landing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.”
“I might as well get it over with.”
I remember being preternaturally calm while P filled out what seemed at the time like dozens of endorsements, signing both my log book and student permit.
While he signed, I watched people milling around the office door. I thought I saw S and MK and some others, but it was too far away to be sure.
Then… he got out, walked around back of the plane, up the left side, and waved.
I taxied to the hold short line, called that I was backtaxiing, went to the end of runway 36, and turned. Wasting no time, I lined up, took a deep breath and did my departure call. Takeoff was no problem. On downwind I heard and saw a plane backtaxiing; he said he’d be out of my way in time, but there was no chance in hell. I was on base and he was still only halfway down the runway. I called down to Instructor P and told him I was going to go around. Not a big deal; power up, flaps up, regain pattern altitude. I heard Instructor P on the radio telling that pilot that this was a first solo. On downwind for the second time, I saw a second airplane moving on the south ramp and thought now what. I kept calling intentions. The second pilot/plane radioed the first and a discussion ensued regarding which of them would depart first. The second pilot/plane announced he’d taxi for departure as soon as the Cessna completed her first touch and go. I had two mini-jets sitting there waiting on me, which cracked me up.
The first landing was acceptable. I took off again. The air was starting to get bumpy at 1500.’ My second landing was an impressive imitation of a ping pong ball. Mortified, I muttered to myself I would do the third and final one right. One of the two planes has departed. I radioed in, botching the call, saying both full stop and touch and go….”wait, I didn’t mean that.” The third landing is OK. I radioed in “can I go home now?”
I didn’t realize I had an audience until I got in….MK and S, two other female pilots, one with her husband, the VP, and another couple I didn’t know. All were there for the fly out, but had hung around to watch until I was done. Just as well I didn’t know!
Solo day reminded me of sitting for the CPA exam…terrifying until the test begins, then all you’ve studied and learned comes tumbling out when you need it.
A spectacular day for Instructor P, as well…two solos, back to back.
Early morning airport weather showed nearly no wind, straight down the runway, the ceiling marginally low. My girlfriend’s husband had his flight lesson directly before mine, and MK had driven to the airport in case this turned out to be S’s solo day, as we all assumed it would be.
When I arrived, the three of them – MK, S, and our instructor – were walking in from the plane. S had just solo’d, and MK taken photos of the shirt ceremony. I told them I was going to lock myself in the bathroom. Instructor P said you go ahead and do that, but we have a master key.
MK and her husband headed to breakfast and I walked out to preflight. Every move I made felt focused this time, no idle chatter on my part. It dawned on me that I might know what I was doing. We stayed in the pattern and did three touch and goes. My third landing was good. A surprise go-around was next.
The airport VP radioed up to ask if we wanted to go on today’s fly out. Instructor P told him no thanks; we’re going to work on some other things….and that’s when I knew. I completed one more trip around the pattern, then a full stop landing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.”
“I might as well get it over with.”
I remember being preternaturally calm while P filled out what seemed at the time like dozens of endorsements, signing both my log book and student permit.
While he signed, I watched people milling around the office door. I thought I saw S and MK and some others, but it was too far away to be sure.
Then… he got out, walked around back of the plane, up the left side, and waved.
I taxied to the hold short line, called that I was backtaxiing, went to the end of runway 36, and turned. Wasting no time, I lined up, took a deep breath and did my departure call. Takeoff was no problem. On downwind I heard and saw a plane backtaxiing; he said he’d be out of my way in time, but there was no chance in hell. I was on base and he was still only halfway down the runway. I called down to Instructor P and told him I was going to go around. Not a big deal; power up, flaps up, regain pattern altitude. I heard Instructor P on the radio telling that pilot that this was a first solo. On downwind for the second time, I saw a second airplane moving on the south ramp and thought now what. I kept calling intentions. The second pilot/plane radioed the first and a discussion ensued regarding which of them would depart first. The second pilot/plane announced he’d taxi for departure as soon as the Cessna completed her first touch and go. I had two mini-jets sitting there waiting on me, which cracked me up.
The first landing was acceptable. I took off again. The air was starting to get bumpy at 1500.’ My second landing was an impressive imitation of a ping pong ball. Mortified, I muttered to myself I would do the third and final one right. One of the two planes has departed. I radioed in, botching the call, saying both full stop and touch and go….”wait, I didn’t mean that.” The third landing is OK. I radioed in “can I go home now?”
I didn’t realize I had an audience until I got in….MK and S, two other female pilots, one with her husband, the VP, and another couple I didn’t know. All were there for the fly out, but had hung around to watch until I was done. Just as well I didn’t know!
Solo day reminded me of sitting for the CPA exam…terrifying until the test begins, then all you’ve studied and learned comes tumbling out when you need it.
A spectacular day for Instructor P, as well…two solos, back to back.
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