Flying overhead was our good friend the banner tow aircraft, preparing for the Bay to Breakers. The rickety biplane Navy trainer was yet again making passes to hook a banner. I snapped a poor quality photo with my phone camera. I had it in my head to save space, though, for in the event that I did solo today, I would be snapping lots more poor quality photos.
Waiting at the Old T's, Stephen told me to head straight for the aircraft. He'd already preflighted 4AC. The wind was calm and my opportunity was nigh, and he didn't want to waste any time before the weather changed. He informed me that I'd be doing a few takeoffs and landings to show him I hadn't suddenly forgotten how to fly, and if he was good and I was good, my time would come.
We walked briskly to 4AC, strapped in, started her up, and took off on 33 for pattern work on 27L. I was told to do three normal landings, no frills, with flaps. The wind was calm, and although you couldn't say the same about me, I did my best to make the landings as silky smooth as possible. Thanks in part to the lack of gusting and in part to my unbreakable concentration, all three landings went pretty darn well. Only a few bumps here and there, but very smooth otherwise.
Stephen told me to park at Kaiser. This was his flight-instructor way of saying, "it's solo time, baby." I brought the plane to the fuel pump and shut it off. He took my logbook from me and unceremoniously penned a solo endorsement. Now came the obligatory, time-honored, and sacrosanct Pre-Solo Goodbye Speech.
"Tell them you want to do pattern work on 27R if you can get it, but take 27L if you have to. Also, be sure to tell them you're a student pilot on his first solo."
I couldn't hold back a small scoff. "What, so they'll clear the airport for me?"
"Just short of it. They'll give you some extra attention." I didn't need extra attention! "I'll be listening in on a handheld radio." He said it as if to warn me to do as I was told.
Stephen looked me straight in the eye. "You are the pilot in command for this flight. Your word is law. If you have to deviate from any regulation, break any law, or disobey any order for the sake of your safety, then do it. A pilot in command has a lot of power and a lot of authority. Use it to stay safe. Don't be afraid to go around or ask for another runway or simply tell the tower 'no' if you need to. They are sitting comfortable in their air-conditioned room, and you are flying the plane. If things go wrong, cut the solo short. We can finish it another time.
"Do three full-stop landings on 27R. Bring the plane back here when you're done ... in one piece, please." My mind was racing, absorbing all this information. I didn't want to fuck up my first solo.
Stephen paused. He couldn't think of much else to say.
"The plane will climb faster without me onboard. Good luck." And with that, he shut the door.
The cockpit fell suddenly very silent.
Of course, inside my mind was racing through a thousand thoughts a minute, but amidst all of that I managed to command my hands to the appropriate controls and start the plane. I calmly asked ground for a taxi to 27R. When cleared, I carefully brought the plane out to the taxiway and down to the threshold of 27R.
Almost immediately, the second-guessing began. Without Stephen aboard, if I forgot something or overlooked a step anywhere in the process, he won't be there to point at it and give me an angry glare. So I found myself double-checking everything and second-guessing myself constantly. I did my best to reign it in and trust my training.
The other realization I made was that photos are not going to be a possibility. I had envisioned my first solo's blog entry would be a photo-rich experience, but it became clear to me that this was simply out of the picture. I concentrated on flying the plane.
I was at the hold-short line for 27R. MALTDD. Everything looks fine. Did I forget anything? Flaps? Carb heat? Cool it, Tim. You're fine.
"Oakland Tower, Skyhawk 854AC is ready for takeoff at 27R."
"4AC, hold short."
"Holding short, 4AC."
Silence. A Citation business jet was inching towards my runway. Twiddling my thumbs to expel nervous energy, I watched him creep closer and finally land. A pilot flying such a jet would have hundreds, if not thousands, of hours. His landing was flawless and he rolled gently down the runway. I reflected on this a bit.
"4AC, cleared for takeoff, 27R, right closed traffic, winds 260 at 8."
"Cleared for takeoff, 27R, right closed traffic, 4AC."
I brought the plane onto the runway. 27R is a lot bigger than 33. The runway traveled off thousands of feet into the distance. I lined up with the centerline. This is it.
Throttle to maximum, yoke slightly forward, right rudder to hold the centerline. Oil temperature and pressure rising, airspeed increasing. The runway starts passing beneath me. Sixty-five miles per hour. The airplane is buffeting a bit, ready to fly. I bring the yoke smoothly back, and the airplane leaps into the sky. My first solo takeoff.
I bring the airplane around for the crosswind leg, and again to the downwind leg, and begin preparing for landing. Carb heat on, fuel selector both, mixture rich. Engine and oil gauges are in the green. Power back to 2,000 RPM. I'm abeam the "27R" numbers. Power back to 1,500 RPM, flaps to 20°. Trim for 80 miles per hour. Turn base.
Final approach, 27R. The runway is a straight shot, barely any wind. Power slowly back to idle, and I glide it in at 75 miles per hour onto the runway. I was a little high so my landing is long and I touch down in the center of the runway. That's fine. It's a small plane and big runway; I have plenty of leeway.
After landing, a strong leftward yaw kicks in and I hear my left tire squealing. I quickly apply right rudder to correct, and the skid stops. Must have been some windshear close to the runway. I bring the airplane slowly to a halt, taxi off the runway, and prepare the airplane for takeoff again.
"4AC, taxi back to 27R."
"Taxi 27R, 4AC."
Oh, shit! I forgot to tell him I was a student pilot. I had wondered if Stephen was really listening, or if he just told his students that to scare them into cooperating over the radio, but I wasn't going to chance it.
"Tower, be advised 4AC is a student pilot on his first solo."
The words felt like shame exiting my mouth. I was ready for some derision over the radio.
"4AC, roger."
Well ... there might have been some derision in the background...
Takeoff #2 now. MALTTD again, take the runway, line up, and then full throttle. At about 20 knots, the nosewheel starts oscillating. Badly. The entire front of the aircraft feels like it's going to fall off. The plane is shaking violently as it picks up speed, rolling down the runway.
My mind is racing. This is a crucial moment. I have to decide if I want to abort the takeoff or press it, and I have to decide now. I spend about a quarter second thinking about the possibilities: What if the nosewheel falls off? What if the plane flips over? Ultimately I decide to press the takeoff, and with a gasp of air, I lift the plane into the air. As soon as the nosewheel hits sky the plane settles down. In the back of my head I wonder what will happen when I land, and the nosewheel touches earth again.
I fly the pattern once more, line up for final approach, and bring the airplane down to the runway. Fortunately, the nosewheel didn't act unusually upon landing, but that annoying windshear caused my plane's tires to squeal again.
Number three now. The pattern's getting busier now. Bay to Breakers means a bunch of helicopters are taking off and landing. The radio's getting a little more crowded, and I'm getting a few traffic advisories. Regardless, I take off and put down a third time just fine. The windshear is pretty bad this time, and my tires squeal for a good five seconds before I get the airplane under control, but the runway is wide and I have plenty of room.
"4AC, you going back again?"
"Negative, 4AC is going to Kaiser this time."
"Roger 4AC, taxi to ramp."
"Taxi to ramp, 4AC."
I brought the airplane to the fuel pumps exactly as before, and I saw Stephen exit the FBO with what I think was a smile on his face. He walked behind the aircraft as I shut it down, and when I exited the plane he was snapping photos. I smiled and stood next to my baby, the beautiful 4AC that brought me skyward and safely to the Earth, proud as a button.
Stephen firmly shook my hand and congratulated me.
"She's a beautiful aircraft, isn't she," I said, gazing upon 4AC's glistening form in the sunlight, empowered by the moment.
"What? No." Stephen looked at me like I was crazy. "She's ugly as sin."
"Oh. I guess when you've felt like you were gonna die so many times in one plane, some kind of Stockholm's syndrome sets in."
"Did anything go wrong?"
"Second takeoff was a doozy. The nosewheel kinda got out of control."
"Probably should have lifted off sooner."
We got into the aircraft, and Stephen had me return to the Old T's. This would be a short lesson, less than an hour, but a momentous one nonetheless.
Stephen gave me a little talk about my future solos. I can do them without him at the airport, but I should call him if the weather gets worse, so he can come sit in the right seat. I would need to get a phase check with a different instructor, to make sure both Stephen and I are on track. I was given the number of another instructor to call. If I wanted, Stephen could sign me off for solos at a different airport, in case I get bored of flying circles around Oakland all day. I think I'll do this. Flying back and forth between Oakland and, say, Concord or Palo Alto is more exciting than simply staying in Oakland's airspace.
"You'll need some ground school back here, too. I'll schedule you together with Shannon, since she's catching up to you real fast."
Let me tell you a little somethin' about Shannon Cantwell.
Shannon is the specter that haunts my every accomplishment. I dread when Stephen mentions her name, because he does so with gushing pride. Every milestone I hit is done with a comparison to Shannon, and I always compare unfavorably.
Not three lessons ago, Stephen had been once again discussing his wunderkind student. "How many landings did it take you before you could finally do it unassisted? Nine?"
"Yeah, I think," I had said, my voice filled with anxiety at what would invariably come next.
"Would you believe she had it down on her second landing? Two! That girl's unbelievable!"
It was the same story each time. Shannon had started a complete newbie to flying, and her first flight was a terrible display of uncoordinated inability. She learned faster than anyone thought possible, though, and she's on track to get her license in simply record time. She started learning weeks after me, and even though I have years of prior simulator experience, she will be overtaking me in progress any moment now. That ground school lesson will likely be the moment.
Suffice it to say, I don't like it when Stephen brings up Shannon. Tempers my pride somewhat. It will be interesting to finally meet this miracle girl, however.
My next lesson is tomorrow, and will likely be my first cross-country flight, and the first step towards my next milestone, a cross-country solo endorsement. No doubt I will hear about how Shannon did it before me.
I had half-expected, half-hoped Stephen wouldn't charge me for the time he spent outside the aircraft. So it came as quite a surprise when he said, out of the blue, "Flight instructors should charge extra for the time they spend sitting in on the ground, listening on the radio."
This threw my brain for a loop. "What??"
"You get so nervous, sitting down there, unable to do anything if something goes wrong. It wracks the mind a bit."
I scoffed. "Well, you're welcome to forgo that next time. You can turn off the radio."
Ultimately, I didn't have to pay him extra, but I did have to pay him for the time he spent sitting in Kaiser, listening on the radio. Sigh.
As I rode my bike home, once again the banner tow biplane was trundling along above me, now with a new banner. I felt as if I was looking at the airplane with a completely new set of eyes.
Cost so far: $4,596.16
Time so far: 57 days
Hours so far: 20.9
Projected certification date: August 7, 2007
Projected total cost: $11,000
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