Well, my time finally came. At 9 AM today I arrived at the Old T's alone, and the Oakland ATIS was showing winds under four knots -- perfect! Visibility nine miles -- perfect! Scattered clouds at 1,000 feet -- per-- oh crap. I needed a cloud layer of 2,500 feet or higher to fly.
I looked up. The scattered clouds mentioned were off to the south. I wouldn't be flying south. I bet I could still do it. I gave Stephen a call to make sure, but he wasn't there, so I said screw it, and prepared to fly my second solo.
I checked the plane out, got my fuel slip, and headed out to 9UL for preflighting. During the preflight I was unable to remove the dipstick from the engine. I wrenched and gripped and twisted as hard as I possibly could, but that dipstick was not budging. Exasperated, I entertained the notion of maybe just flying without first checking the oil. After all, I had biked such a long way...
I decided I'd try the dipstick once more after I finished my preflight, and then rethink the matter. So, I got the plane ready, and lo and behold, the damn metal rod separated itself from the engine. I read the oil level.
Five quarts. Two quarts below the recommended minimum.
Okay, so maybe flying off without checking the oil would have been a bad idea. It all turned out well, anyway. I ran back to the clubhouse and got two bottles of oil, filled the plane up, and I was ready to go. Having never refilled a plane's oil before, I was fumbling around trying to figure out where the club stored the oil, how to get it in the engine, etc. etc., and it was nearly 9:40 by the time I was in the plane ready to taxi. I only had the plane until 11 AM, so I felt a little rushed. I wanted to see the sights, fly, and be free!
With the engine started and everything hunky-dory, I got my clearance to take off from 33 on a VFR flight to Mt. Diablo. I was instructed to turn right on course after takeoff and head towards the mountain. Takeoff went smoothly (other than some minor radio problems that were solved by noticing that the volume was turned down), and there I was, flying casually along an eastward course towards Walnut Creek.
First I would do some sightseeing around this city, my hometown, and maybe enjoy the splendor of Mt. Diablo from the air. Then, time permitting, I decided I'd head north to San Pablo Bay and practice whatever maneuvers I'm rusty at. While heading over the hills that separate Oakland and the Inner East Bay from the Outer East Bay, NorCal terminated my radar service and gave me clearance to change frequencies.
I turned off the chatter of the radio and enjoyed the view 2,500 feet above Walnut Creek. It didn't take long for me to locate my parent's house, and I did a few circles around the neighborhood. Northgate High School on a Saturday morning was a large empty plot of parking and fields, though I did see tiny white dots preparing for football practice on the field. Arbolado Park was bustling with soccer players in the north and south fields. Cars creeped up and down Sutton Dr., but squint as I might I couldn't make out any people at the house. Oh well.
I turned southwest and circled around the west side of Mt. Diablo. Flying above the city, Mt. Diablo still rose higher than me, making for a view of some grandeur. I approached the south side with caution, knowing that many planes from Livermore use it as an area to practice aerobatics. I didn't see any planes, though. I had read on the Web that people doing aerobatics in the Mt. Diablo Practice Area tend to coordinate on 122.75, the common air-to-air frequency. I tuned that in but found only old pilots chatting about their families with each other, so I turned it off.
I made a sharp turn just before reaching the south side of Mt. Diablo, and turned around back north. I circled once more over my folks' house in case they didn't hear my ruckus the first time, then continued northwest to San Pablo Bay. As I was being careful not to enter either San Francisco's class-B airspace or Concord's class-D airspace, It had occurred to me that this would be a lot harder without the handy-dandy GPS installed in the airplane. That nifty device plotted all the airspace boundaries for me, taking all the guessing out of navigating and helping me ensure I didn't penetrate any airspace boundaries. I had reflected on what it would be like to fly in 4AC, without a GPS, and with myself having only a vague idea of where the airspace is. I would probably have been much more cautious.
As I flew over Hercules, approaching San Pablo Bay, a sudden red blur streaked across my view above me, heading southbound. I craned my neck to see, but it was too late. I think it was an airplane that flew a little too close to me for comfort. I wondered briefly if I should maybe change to a different altitude, but I couldn't think of any particular strategy to improve this situation other than keeping a more wary eye out for other traffic.
Over San Pablo Bay I did some clearing turns then practiced power-on stalls and slow flight, since I remember having trouble holding my altitude in those maneuvers. I did alright, but of course without Stephen to grade me I'll never know. Following that I chose to practice my steep turns a bit.
During all this I was checking my phone very frequently to keep track of time. I had it in my head that I would head back to Oakland at 10:30, giving me 30 minutes to land and taxi back. I thought that was a generous estimate. But still, I was so worried about having the plane past 11 am (a big no-no) that I had to fight myself to stay flying and enjoy my time up in the air.
Finally, at 10:25, over San Pablo and nearly 4,000 feet up, I relented and decided to head home. See, this is where I would love to have had a sectional chart. I couldn't remember which frequency to contact NorCal on if I am approaching Oakland from the north. I decided I'd just contact them on the last frequency they were with me on, and ask them. I got Oakland's ATIS and made my call.
"NorCal approach, Skyhawk 739UL, request."
"739UL, go ahead."
"Which frequency do you use for approaches to Oakland from the north?"
"Are you heading in to Oakland?"
"Yes, I'm heading in from the north."
NorCal was confused, since this wasn't a typical thing you ask over the radio.
"Do you want ... like, traffic advisories?"
"No, I'm wondering which frequency to use."
"9UL, that would be me!"
"Oh! Alright then." I hadn't thought about what to say next, so I fumbled through it. "Skyhawk 739UL ... uhh ... is a Skyhawk ... uhh, over Richmond at 3,000 feet ... uhh ... landing at Oakland with Xray."
I was so busy thinking of what to say, I didn't put any effort into trying to say it in the correct order. It was pure luck that the information happened to be stated in the correct order.
"9UL, squawk 0362 and ident."
"Ident" is the controller's way of saying, "You sound confused. I bet you're confused about where you are, so I don't trust that you're actually over Richmond, so I will have your transponder broadcast your position, and I will trust that."
"Squaking 0362 and identing, 9UL."
I punched the numbers in and hit the ident button.
"9UL, radar contact, directly over Richmond." You're damn right I was directly over Richmond, punk! I know where I am. Bitch. "Head to the Mormon Temple at or above 2,500 feet, then make right traffic for 27R."
I did as I was told, and as usual, I was handed over to Tower before hitting the temple, who cleared me into 27R. I passed over the Coliseum on a right 45, then turned downwind and base. Tower cleared me to land on 27R, and a quick glance at my clock showed it was 10:46. I was doing fine on time.
Right about then it dawned on me that I would have to refuel the plane. Okay, now I was worried. Could I land, refuel, and get back to the Old T's before 11:00? With little to no wind my landing was perfectly silky smooth, the type of landing that would have made Stephen proud. I brought the plane to Kaiser, and refueled as fast as I could. Hopping back in, I returned to the Old T's with not a second to spare.
I secured the airplane then returned to the clubhouse to do the paperwork. Waiting there was Stephen with his student; they were scheduled to take 9UL next. Stephen shook my hand and congratulated me on my second solo, but he was clearly feeling rushed. He took the keys from me and wasted no time in getting to the airplane.
I did my paperwork, finished up at the clubhouse, and rode home. And I had the foresight to take home the wrong headset, in a classic Tim move. My headset is still at the club, and the one I took home is one of the junky loaners that they make available for everyone.
Sigh.
The second part of my phase check is Wednesday with Joel again.
Cost so far: $5,150.11
Time so far: 77 days
Hours so far: 25.5
Projected certification date: August 21, 2007
Projected total cost: $10,100
No comments:
Post a Comment