At the last minute 9UL became available, so I scrambled to reserve it and get a checkride scheduled. Everything fell into place perfectly, so this morning at 10 am I was at the airport with Stephen, ready to go. Cumulus clouds towered into the sky, portending a bumpy ride. We took off and headed north for Gnoss. Low-level clouds meant that I enjoyed a flight over Oakland at only 1,000 feet above the ground. I may have to fly my departures like this all the time.
Over San Pablo the sky was clear and I climbed to 3,000 feet and prepared to enter the pattern at Gnoss. Stephen talked me through the best strategy for doing it, and I pulled it off reasonably well, making a short-field landing. I then departed for Sonoma Valley, an airport I had never been to.
Sonoma Valley Airport was just over a ridge of hills. Its runway is so small that I had to make two entries, as I lost sight of it the first time. When I turned final, I truly realized just how pencil-thin the runway was.
"Wow ... that's a hell of a runway," I couldn't help but say. Stephen told me to show him a go-around, and I was somewhat relieved. We then departed for Petaluma, where I made another good pattern entry, landed, and taxied to parking. We grabbed a bite to eat at the Two-Niner Diner, chatted about all things aviation (including the future of the Alameda Aero Club, which unfortunately looks bleak), then returned to the plane to depart. I got a weather briefing over the phone; the briefer said that low-level clouds were obscuring hills and mountains, and he didn't recommend VFR flight. Stephen said we'd be fine.
As we flew over Santa Rosa on the way to Healdsburg, it looked like he was right: The clouds were 2,500 feet off the ground and well clear of any hills. Due to a misunderstanding, I accidentally busted Santa Rosa's airspace. Stephen wasn't pleased. I got to enjoy a picturesque final approach at Healdsburg again, even if it was a bumpy one, then took off for Cloverdale. At Cloverdale I practiced the pattern entry one more time, then demonstrated my new "aeronautical decision-making skills" to Stephen by telling him I felt fatigued, and it was time to go back. He was mightily pleased that I was able to recognize it now, instead of just ignoring it.
Santa Rosa's runway 14 was out for maintenance, so Tower was scrambling to fit everyone on runway 19. I made a short-field landing and taxied off at the first exit to the Jet Center, where this time we let the attendants fuel the plane, instead of doing it ourselves. Since we were hours early, Stephen and I retired in the pilot's lounge and fell asleep on their big, cushy chairs. Commercial pilots do a lot of waiting around when they're not flying, and don't get a whole lot of sleep, so every FBO generally has a place where they can wait and/or sleep. This one had a nice little board games collection, which was promptly ignored to get some Z's. The sleep helped clear my mind and prepare myself for the checkride.
When Steve did arrive, he was clearly in a big hurry. We rushed through the paperwork, and he told me to preflight expediently while he kept a casual eye on me. He said we didn't have a lot to do, so we'd just fly to Healdsburg, do a landing, then come back and call it a checkride. Who can disagree with that?
Ground gave me clearance to taxi to runway 19, where I did my takeoff. I had forgotten that it was supposed to be a soft-field takeoff, and of course Steve isn't allowed to help me out, so I kind of fudged it and transitioned into a soft-field takeoff as I rolled down the runway. He seemed to buy it though.
I did my best to stay calm and in control as I made my northward departure. Steve was looking everywhere. I remember Tuesday he told me to "use your people skills and keep an eye on your examiner. If he looks scared, you know you're doing something wrong." The problem is, when Steve cranes his neck to look every which way, it's hard to tell if it's fear or just vigilance. In this case it was merely vigilance, but I worried. Since Santa Rosa was busy, there were a lot of planes nearby, and honestly I think I sort of lost my situational awareness for a while on climb-out, but we managed to get out without almost hitting anyone.
I descended into Healdsburg, crossed over the field, then headed southeast of the field to prepare for a long, easy, slow entry into the pattern. I had no intention of rushing it. Steve stopped me before I'd barely begun, though, and said, "OK, you know what you're doing. Let's get out of here." So, I departed the pattern and gave Santa Rosa a call again.
"Skyhawk 739UL, Santa Rosa tower, remain clear of class-delta for now, we got guys working the runways, they're gonna shut the runways down for about 10 minutes, I'll get you your landing clearance after that." It was an unusual radio call.
With 10 minutes to kill, Steve said, "Give me the controls. Want a tour? I love to fly." I let him take control of the plane, and he took me over wine country, pointing out local rivers and lakes. He was eager to float over countryside and clearly loved his hometown.
"I'm not sure if this is a good idea, or not ... but can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, anything."
"Do you promise you didn't cut my checkride short because I screwed something up?" Honestly, I was pretty worried that was the case.
Steve laughed. "No, you did great. Were you worried?"
"Well, my soft-field..." I didn't want to admit I knew that I did it wrong, because Steve would be forced to assess that. Fortunately, Steve had already come to a different conclusion. "Yeah, you gotta work with what the control tower gives you. I know you'd do a perfect soft-field takeoff if tower had let you."
Whew. Yeah, I like that. It's the control tower's fault. I can go with that.
Tower gave us permission to land, and Steve continued to fly the plane right up to the airport, where he gave it back to me and asked me to do a soft-field landing. Tower, however, asked me to do a short-field landing. Steve was not content to let tower override him again, so he had a simple solution: "Make it both a short- and soft-field landing." Yeah, alright.
I came into the runway behind a Bonanza, but at 250 feet or so above the runway Tower told me to go around. Steve immediately seized the opportunity and watched me like a hawk as I performed the go-around procedure. Fortunately I did it fine, and re-entered the pattern for a second landing. Steve and I had no idea why Tower wanted us to go around, but whatever. Steve didn't mind the opportunity for a real-life test.
So I made my short-and-soft-field landing on 19 eventually, and taxied back to the Jet Center. Steve signed my logbook, gave me my temporary certificate and a kitschy little placard, said a quick congratulations, and was on his way. He obviously wanted to get home, but he did mention he was proud. I grabbed Stephen, still in the pilot's lounge.
"I'm a pilot. Let's get out of here." He shook my hand and congratulated me. Stephen had been listening to me over the radio and was surprised at how short the checkride was. I told him that Steve burned through it.
I flew back with Stephen, a nice leisurely flight over the North Bay down to Oakland. Stephen offered one last lesson for me.
"Want me to show you how to land on 33?" I had been wanting this lesson for a while.
"Definitely."
So we got our clearance to land on 33. Stephen talked me through the process. I made a low pass over 27R at 200 feet or so, then turned final to 33 and landed right next to the Old T's. It was quite a dramatic landing, and a great way to finish my last day as a student pilot and my first day as a private pilot.
I thanked Stephen for all the instructing I did, and said I'd see him around. I want to get my instrument rating next, after I've had a few months' rest and flying just for fun ... but I probably won't blog that. Writing these posts has been fun, but it's enough to do it once.
And here we have it. The complete record, from sim jockey to private pilot, in 5 months. I hope you enjoyed reading about it. If there's any one piece of advice I can give you, no matter who you are, it would be to follow your dreams.
I don't believe in Heaven, and I feel that this life on Earth is the only life we've got. I would have never forgiven myself if I were on my deathbed without a pilot's license. So, if you have the time and money, I urge you to follow your dreams as well, because you will not get a second chance.
And finally ... give me a call if you want to go flying!!
Total Cost: $10,968.42
Total Time: 174 days (5 and a half months)
Total Hours: 65.6
Total Flights: 40
1 comment:
Would you consider continuing the Blog? I love reading it!
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