Solo #4: A successful flight in N4312R "The Death Trap"

Sharp-eyed readers will remember that 4312R was the airplane that I suffered an electrical fire in, and the airplane that Stephen called "bad luck." Well, fortunately, I don't believe in luck, and I'm an ingratiating sort of fellow, so I figured I'd give "The Death Trap" another go. I had reserved 4AC, but her pistons still haven't been broken in, and with 9UL out, I had no choice but to switch my reservation to 12R.

I opened her squawk log with a sort of dread.

There, written on photocopied forms, for all the world to know, were listed her problems. Testaments to her failure as enscribed by pilots past, who had presumably at least survived her throes. I could only summon the courage to read the latest entry. Apparently 12R was having transponder problems of late.

This is not a surprise. See, about three weeks back, 4AC began having transponder failures. So, Ginny the club mechanic, in her infinite wisdom, decided to swap the transponders on 12R and 4AC (presumably to determine if it was the transponder or the transponder antenna). Well, lo and behold, now 12R pilots are squawking transponder failures. Fun times.

In addition, apparently the plane has a tendency to roll to the right when kept in level flight.

My preflight was also filled with such portentous omens. Not 2 minutes in to the preflight had I noticed that the landing and taxi lights had failed. Checked the switch, checked the circuit breaker ... yep, definitely broken. I walked back into the clubhouse and read the squawk log again. Sure enough, someone else had noticed the same thing a few flights back.

Oh well. If he flew anyway, why shouldn't I? I marched back to 4312R, determined not to let these little gnats of problems stop me. 12R's right tank was filled to the brim, while her left tank was a quarter empty. I made a mental note to feed from the left tank for the first 30 minutes or so of flight (a mental note which was promptly forgotten).

The preflight was otherwise successful, and since the wind was calm, I requested a takeoff from runway 15. Given that I was parked not 50 feet from runway 15, I did my run-up right in my parking spot, then let the airplane roll up to the hold-short line. With so little taxiing to do, things were moving quickly, so I didn't have time to second-guess or doubt my ability to remember each little task.

Once I had (finally) gotten my takeoff clearance, I made a crosswind departure and headed straight for Mt. Diablo. I had called my father prior to taking off this time, so he should be listening for the sound of my engine. I climbed to 2,500 and passed leisurely over Oakland and the hills around Danville. Once I was nearing the edge of Walnut Creek, I began a descent to 1,500 feet and located first Northgate High School and then Arbolado Park, where I initiated my first turn.

Level at 1,500 feet, flying at a comfortably slow 90 knots, I circled my parents' house. I was low enough that I could make out my father should he materialize outside the house. Sure enough, on my second circuit, a signaling mirror caught my eye. My father was watching me. I rocked the wings abruptly to indicate that we'd made eye contact.



Even without the tiny point of light that was his signaling mirror, I could even see his tall figure walking around the backyard pool, to keep me in view. As I turned north of the house on my third circuit, I reflected on how small the coniferous trees in the neighbors' backyards seemed in comparison to the towering green giants that loom over you when your feet are planted firmly in the ground. As if to further hammer the altitude in, I saw a small white bird migrating northwest over the house, about 100 feet below me. I was truly enjoying flying.

After a fourth circuit I decided the point had been made and contact had been established, so I turned towards a course west of Mt. Diablo and pressed on at 2,000 feet or so. I made a languorous circle around Mt. Diablo, which yielded the most thrilling views I've yet experienced from the cockpit. I guarantee that the first person I take flying will get to experience this with me. The stark grandeur of Mt. Diablo rising above you and around you, its rugged beauty, the whole thing is unforgettable. I reveled in its marvel as I made a complete 360-degree turn around the mountain's peak.



I had decided that following this excursion I'd travel to the San Francisco Bay and do some sightseeing near the Peninsula, of the Golden Gate, Alcatraz, Treasure and Angel Island, etc. I flew a wide course that took me over Concord's Buchanan Field and on to Benicia, when I gave NorCal a call.

"NorCal Approach, Skyhawk 4312R is over Concord Buchanan, 2,700 feet, heading to the Peninsula, request flight following."

NorCal came back intermittently. I had to repeat my request a few times, and then frustrated, told them I'd call them later. I climbed to 4,000 feet to clear anything that might be obstructing my radio, but they were still intermittent.

"12R, still not picking you up on radar, ident please."
"12R, identing." Oh no, transponder problems...

No response. (Or possibly static.)

"NorCal Approach, 4312R, do you see me yet?"
"12R, did you get my ident request?"
Ugh. OK, forget San Francisco. Let's just get on the ground. "Affirmative, identing again. There were transponder issues in the past, I'd like to just land at Oakland."

Another pause.

"12R, did you receive my request to squawk 0367?"
Oh. "Negative! Squawking 0367, 12R."

Please tell me you see me now, NorCal...

"12R, radar contact, 8 miles west of Concord, proceed direct to the Mormon Temple at or above 2,500 then right traffic for 27R, advise when you have Hotel."

OK, so he is still assuming I want to land at Oakland, even though it wasn't a transponder failure after all, but ... whatever. I can gawk at the Peninsula another day. I flew over the hills to Emeryville, then turned south and passed over Berkeley, as per a typical approach to the Mormon Temple, which takes you over UC Berkeley with a great view.



I landed on 27R then taxied directly back to the Old T's, not needing to refuel the airplane. This was a good solo. 12R didn't kill me, and for the first time, someone else besides Stephen had seen me fly. I'm looking forward to my cross-country solos over the coming weeks.

Cost so far: $6,016.34
Time so far: 92 days
Hours so far: 31.8

Projected certification date: August 15, 2007 (50 hours) or July 17, 2007 (40 hours)
Projected total cost: $9,500