I arrived at the Old T's at 9pm, with the sun just barely set and the night air crisp and cool. I had forgotten my badge, but fortunately Stephen was waiting outside for me.
For this flight we would head over to San Pablo Bay and review some maneuvers, then get takeoffs and landings done at night. Stephen said the most important thing was to simply practice night takeoffs and landings repeatedly, since that's all the FAA really cared about.
We headed to the aircraft, and as I pulled my equipment out of my flight bag, I realized I couldn't see a damn thing, much less read the checklist.
"Can I flip on the master switch, just so I can see what I'm doing?" I asked. Apparently that was a perfect segue into lesson #1.
"Always carry two flashlights with you when you fly at night," Stephen said dryly, as he produced two flashlights and handed them to me. Under the light of the larger one, I worked through the checklist, ensuring that interior and exterior lights functioned properly. You never quite realize how bright your strobe lights are until they blind you during a nighttime walkaround.
Once the two of us were settled in I got my clearance, and began a nighttime taxi to runway 33. By now it was completely dark, and although the taxiway had reflectors and the airplane had a taxi light, I was still having a hard time keeping track of where I was going. I performed my runup and continued on to runway 33. Right in front of the runway-33 lighted sign I saw two flashing yellow lights, and it wasn't until after I sailed right past the hold-short line did I realize that those lights indicated where to stop.
My first runway incursion. Oops.
I got my takeoff clearance and brought the plane into the air. As we climbed to 2,000 feet I enjoyed the nighttime cityscape, a sight not unfamiliar but always beautiful. Stephen asked me to open an air vent and feel the air.
"Notice anything?" he said.
"It's very warm." Indeed, the air felt like it was around 100 degrees.
"There's an inversion layer." Warm air from midday had risen during the evening, meaning that while the ground was cool, at altitude it was temperate, even hot.
The other spectacle that caught my eye, flying towards San Pablo Bay, was the nighttime clouds. See, without any good frame of reference, I thought San Francisco Bay was San Pablo Bay, and got myself confused. In any case, a thick layer of clouds, about 800 feet off the ground, get pushed and funneled through the Golden Gate Bridge, and spread out on the other side, blanketing Richmond and Emeryville with clouds each night (and smearing the lights from the ground beneath them). From the sky it looked amazing, like the clouds were being squeezed through the bridge and squirted out over the Bay. How close they hugged the shoreline, too, was spectacular.
When we were over San Pablo Bay Stephen had me do two clearing turns followed by two steep turns. My ability to hold my altitude during a steep turn has improved significantly, and I was even proud of my execution. I gained 100 feet on the rollout, but these are small errors that can be ironed out. For my reference point I used a pair of well-lit towers, a TV broadcast antenna for a station whose call letters I've since forgotten.
Stephen then had me practice slow flight and some power-on and power-off stalls. I did the former just fine, but there are still some issues with my stall recovery. Firstly, I have a tendency to let the plane plummet during recovery, losing hundreds of feet unnecessarily. Secondly, my climbout procedures are a bit off ... I have to remember, carb heat off, throttle full, 20 degrees of flaps immediately, accelerate to Vy, climb at Vy, 10 degrees of flaps, accelerate to Vy, and so on in that pattern. That, plus keeping control of the airplane, is a lot to remember for what is essentially a 5-second recovery period.
Stephen asked me, "if you had an engine failure, where would you land?"
"I ... uhhh ... I guess ..." I had no idea. Looking around all I saw was well-lit city areas and pitch-black water.
"It's harder at night," Stephen explained. "You could pick one of the roads, but you run the risk of getting caught in power lines you can't see. The best option is probably to put it in the drink." When your best option is to ditch a fixed-gear plane in ice-cold, pitch-black Bay waters, your options aren't very good.
Stephen pointed out two nearby airports, San Rafael and Gnoss Field, to show me what they look like at night. We then turned around and headed back to Oakland for stop-and-go work. (You can't do touch-and-goes at night, they don't count, so you have to do stop-and-goes or full-stop landings.)
I got my clearance back to Oakland, and Stephen suggested I navigate using the VOR's and GPS, so I did. No problem, I was fresh from my last cross-country solo, where I did that as well. I was stuck behind another student pilot, also doing night training, and we were each given a runway where we did stop-and-goes.
I had some trouble judging where to make my turns at first, but I picked up a rhythm. The runways are nearly impossible to see when abeam, but when heading upwind you can see them just fine, since the lights all line up. The other advantage of night flying is airplanes are much more visible, with their bright flashing lights.
On my second landing, Stephen asked me to go around, so I performed a decent go-around maneuver. I asked him if it was for training, and he said no -- "You never want to risk it for night landings. Things didn't look good so we'll go around." We were way too high, anyway.
Four more stop-and-goes, and it was 10:30, and I had to call it quits. Plus, after so many landings in a row I start to feel kinda dizzy. We switched to 27R and got landing clearance, then taxied to Kaiser. At night there's one guy doing everything on the radio: Clearance delivery, ground (north and south field), and tower (north and south). It was interesting to be on the same channel as the airlines for once. Puts pressure on you to speak faster, since you're in the presence of old-timers.
I taxied to Kaiser alongside a Cessna Citabria, a small tailwheel aircraft. Manning the tiny airplane was a student not much older than myself and his instructor, a man who bears an amazing resemblance to Shooter McGavin from Happy Gilmore. He walks, talks, and dresses like he is God's gift to the rich and sociable.
Our McGavin friend yakked with us mindlessly about the joys of night flying, bragging about his student (who had apparently finished a long cross-country night flight), while I fueled the plane and tried not to appear uninterested.
I managed to fuel up half of the left wing when the fuel flow suddenly stopped. McGavin and his student had just started fueling. Stephen told me to try again, so I swiped my card and fuel flow was restored.
"Hey!" the other student said. "Pump stopped working!"
I fueled up the right wing and switched to the left, as the McGavin swiped his card in an attempt to get fuel flowing again. I managed to get a few drops into the left wing when the flow stopped again. By now we presumed that two people cannot fuel their planes simultaneously at this pump, so Stephen just told me to pack it up. Apparently he didn't want to hear Shooter talk about his "amazing" experiences either, and was content with leaving one wing empty in the escape. We put everything away and taxied the hell away.
Back at the Old T's I left a note for the next pilot that the right wing would be a lot heavier than the left, and Stephen and I discussed what's remaining in the process. He assured me that, no, my cert is not right around the door, that I have plenty to do yet. Apparently I need 3 hours of cross-country training and five hours of cross-country solo, so there's plenty of that left. In addition, I need some cross-country night practice, and of course The Big One, and a few other odds and ends. It's still a bit of a road yet, but as he said, I'm "cruising" through the syllabus.
I'm off to Germany now. Next week I have another cross-country solo scheduled, assuming the planets align again.
Cost so far: $6,399.34
Time so far: 103 days
Hours so far: 34.7
Projected certification date: August 19, 2007
Projected total cost: $9,200
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