Lesson #8: You guessed it ... landings!

Apparently there is a 7:30 AM on Sunday, because this is when I awoke to go flying. See, there was a sizeable amount of rain pattering on my windows the night before, so I felt secure in staying up til 2:30 AM, believeing that the rain would not relent in the morning, and cancel my lesson (again). Well, as luck would have it, the rain did indeed stop by morningtime, so, awoken with 5 hours of sleep, I now had to make the 5 mile trip to the airport by bike and BART. Oh well -- at least I get to fly a plane.

Today we would be adding some flaps into my landings. Today also marked a momentous occasion -- my first flight as an official AAC member. Since I was no longer Tim Morgan, student pilot, but now Member Number 3012, student pilot, I could check out the airplane myself. This enviable responsibility primarily entails the thrilling act of "filling out a lot of paperwork," after which I grabbed the keys to 9UL and we headed out.

Following preflight, Stephen made it clear that this time, I would be doing all of the radio unless I cracked under the pressure. That felt good to hear. Doing the radio means you get to talk in your Pilot Voice, which is secretly the best part of general aviation flying. You can't normally talk in your Pilot Voice. If you went to 7-11 and tried to buy a hot dog in your Pilot Voice, the employees would probably look around for hidden cameras, thinking they were on a candid TV show.

Generally, the only other time I get to use my Pilot Voice is when no one else is within earshot except the cats.

So we took off from runway 33 with the intent to enter the traffic pattern for runway 27R and do some landings. In the early morning there was no wind and no one else was around, so we basically had the runway for ourselves for the first five or so landings. Stephen had me do 3 without flaps to get back in the groove, then the remaining landings were with 10 or 20 degrees of flaps. Because the runway was otherwise unoccupied, I took my landings at a nice, leisurely pace, and Stephen had me make them full-stop-and-taxi-back landings.

After the first five landings, morning approached noon, and a cold front brought with it a bank of low clouds. It was getting difficult to stay 1,000 feet below the clouds, as necessitated by regulations. That, plus the fact that more pilots were waking up and runway 27R was getting a bit more crowded, compelled Stephen to expedite my training. The last five landings were touch-and-goes, to keep things moving.

The improvement in my landings is remarkable. A few of them were a little on the stomach-turning side, but the majority of them were not only acceptable, they were downright pleasant. Stephen of course wouldn't dare hint this to me, but I felt his pride. In particular, I noticed during the last 3 or so landings, he wasn't even paying attention. Usually he has his hands hovering near the controls, ready to yank them away from me to avert a disaster, but towards the end, he wasn't even looking at the runway. He was staring off into the horizon, counting the clouds or something, like a jaded passenger who has put idle trust into his pilot.

It's probably best that you don't dwell on this too much, or you will realize the only way I could know this is if I was looking at Stephen instead of the runway, which is never a good idea when you're on short final.

On landing 7 Stephen said we could just keep going until I had enough, but other than the encroaching clouds and the bumpier air they harolded, I felt no sense of urgency. I could have done 15, maybe even 20 landings if I had the fuel or the money to pay Stephen to sit in the cockpit and count clouds while I landed. I realized that Stephen had instructed me all that he could about the art of landing, and basically all I was doing now was practicing. This was something I could do on my own time, once I got my solo privileges, rather than bore Stephen with it. So, I called it quits on the tenth landing (a nice round number).

As you might expect, we taxied to Kaiser to fuel up. Since I was an AAC member, I would be buying the gas this time. Credit card reader was broke, though, so we had to call in a fuel truck to fill us up the old-fashioned way (back before they had self-serve pumps).

When we returned to the Old T's I was greeted by an unexpected surprise -- Stephen handed me the pre-solo quiz. This was his roundabout way of saying "you're getting close to the time when I will let you solo." That, plus his offhand mention of us "covering new material" next lesson, is I think his way of saying, "Congratulations, your landings don't suck anymore." A compliment given in the sort of way only a flight instructor could.

My bike ride home was consumed with thoughts of this upcoming milestone -- the day I will be able to solo.

Cost so far: $2,489.21
Time so far: 29 days
Hours so far: 9.3