Another Solo!

Lesson 29
11-15-12
1.6 hours logged
35.1 hours total recorded in logbook

For various reasons, I was particularly excited to wake up this Thursday morning and find the sky almost clear, the winds calm and the temperature reasonably warm--or at least less cold. It was a perfect day for flying! I couldn't have asked for better! So down to CubAir I went and while Stephen (or Steve M., to differentiate from Steve Krog) finished up with another student, I preflighted 9721Y. About halfway through, Stephen came out of  the office and talked to me as I finished. He asked a few questions pertaining to where I'm actually at in my flight training (we had barely seen each other since I flew my first cross country with him nearly a month and a half ago) and, based on my answers, he and I both agreed that I need to build more solo time (I'd gotten none since my first solo) and that today would be the perfect time to try it provided I felt comfortable with it. A period of time with no solo flying right after the first time is not an uncommon occurrence but it was high time I was up alone again. 

"Do you want me to go up with you for a few landings first?" Stephen asked.
"Yes," I said with relief, half afraid he would make me go by myself from the very beginning.
"Okay, we'll go up, make three landings together and then, if you feel ready, you can kick me out and take over from there."
With this plan made, we pushed the plane out into the sun. I love how the Cubs look in the sunshine.

"You go ahead and get yourself ensconced in the rear seat," Stephen told me and as I did, he rolled out the fuel caddy and pumped in a few gallons, all the while cheerily humming "Ode to Joy" in detached phrases. Finishing this, he also climbed in. We went through the start-up procedure. Brakes set, throttle cracked, mags hot, stick back, yell "Clear!" and push the starter button and with that, the prop becomes a spinning disk on the front of the airplane which will soon pull us skyward.

With the little wind there was almost straight down runway 18, this was the runway of choice. Accordingly, we taxied out to the end of this one, did our pre-takeoff control and instrument checks and the run-up, taxied to center, then takeoff! Oh, the thrill of flight! It's wonderful to experience it again with each takeoff!

We flew the pattern twice, making two landings. As we back taxied for a third takeoff Stephen asked, "So how do you feel?"
"Fine," I replied.
"You're not nervous or scared?" he probed.
"No," I answered with assurance.
"Good. You don't seem like it. If this next landing is good, I'll get out and you can take it."

So around we went once more and made a landing that Stephen apparently judged good enough for he told me to stay off the brakes and let the plane roll down the runway a little farther toward the hangars. "It'll be less distance for me to walk," Stephen explained. As we rolled to a stop, he turned to me and asked, "Are you ready?" I assured him I was. 
"Okay then, come back in an hour."
"Come back in an hour?" Since I had no watch on, I had no way of telling the time. (I usually wear one but my watch battery had died.)  I remembered being told that you can do about eight landings in an hour but I when I pointed out to him that I had no time-keeping device on me, he took off his own watch and gave it to me. I took it and fastened it on my wrist, marking the time as I did so. The watch was, of course, much too big for me but it served the purpose.

"Can I leave the pattern if I want to?" I asked with the amazement of new-found freedom.
"Yes, as long as you don't lose sight of the airport," Stephen told me. He had climbed out and now closed the door after him with the parting words, "See you in an hour!" I fastened the door shut from the inside and returned his wave. After waiting a moment for him to walk a safe distance away, I revved the engine and taxied back up the runway for takeoff. Rather than feeling any nervousness or trepidation as I did on my first solo, I felt only quiet confidence and an eagerness to show both myself and my instructor that I was perfectly capable of making this solo flight just fine.

Even though I could already feel that the plane was lighter, I didn't let it turn more than necessary as I lined up for takeoff. I paused only briefly to check the windsock then pushed the throttle to full and allowed the stick to come forward as the tail came up. The Cub lifted off very quickly and as I flew over the mid-point of the field, already 100 feet high, I looked down to see Steve walking backward toward the hangar as he gazed up at me. I smiled. It was a wonderful feeling to realize I was flying--alone--once again.

Without Stephen's broad shoulders blocking forward vision, I could actually see the instruments! Deciding I'd make a few landings before venturing away from the airport, I flew the pattern just as I'd done so many times before, and came around for solo landing #1. Remembering Stephen's instructions to climb and descend at 65 rpm, I adjusted the controls as needed to maintain this rate of descent and found myself over the end of the runway just when I needed to be. Crossing the threshold, I cut the throttle, levelled, flared and waited for the Cub to settle to earth. It did so with a bump, but I remembered to keep the stick pulled all the way back into my stomach and we were safely down! I taxied back to the end of the runway, eager to do it all over again and not forgetting to push the carb heat back in with my foot as I did so. (That's one of those little things it's easy to forget.) I made two more good landings.

Even in late fall, the countryside still has a certain beauty.

Now it was time to leave the pattern for the first time alone. After a third takeoff, I climbed to 500 ft. and now, instead of making the customary left turn to crosswind, I turned the opposite direction. Now free from the confines of the pattern, I continued my climb on up past 1800 to 2500 ft. Having been given no directives as to where to go other than north or west of the airport and not to go out of sight of it, the sky before me was mine. I could decide exactly where within that wide space I would go and what I would do. That is the joy of flight in uncontrolled (Class G) airspace.

The church which I circled

After flying in a westerly direction for a few minutes, I decided to try some turns just for the sake of practice, trying to hold altitude as I made each one. Once again, I levelled off and flew a straight track, this time heading north in the direction of the wind farm. I flew over a corner of it, then, catching sight of the church below me around the steeple of which I'd once practiced turns around a point, I was reminded that this might be a good exercise to try even though there wasn't a lot of wind. A few of these take longer than you might imagine (everything takes longer in a Cub) and believe it or not, it had already been nearly an hour so I determined it was time to head back to the airport. There it was, still within sight. I'd been careful to follow Stephen's instructions.

As I approached, I checked the windsock. Judging the wind direction to be about the same as before, I descended to pattern altitude and entered a left downwind for 18 announcing the fact over the radio as I did so. Turns to base and final and accompanying radio calls completed the pattern. Now I just had to make one more landing. Being careful to descend at 65 rpm, I came in on an even glidepath, levelled, flared and the Cub once again settled gracefully to earth. I taxied back to the hangar and cut the switches. Only then did I realize I'd forgotten to turn off the carb heat following this last landing! Oh well...a small oversight. I was radiant, basking in that wonderful feeling of accomplishment. No one was there to greet me on my return--not even Stephen. Gradually it dawned on my how completely on my own I'd actually been! Stephen's evident faith in my ability to competently fly the pattern, land, leave the pattern and return without any supervision or coaching from him was a huge boost to my confidence. As I climbed out of the cockpit, he was just coming out to meet me. "How was it?" he asked.
"Great!"
"You felt okay with everything?"
"Yeah."
"Not as bad as you thought it might be?"
"No, it was good!"
He asked how many landings I'd made, if I'd left the pattern, where I went, what I did, how my landings went, if I'd used the radio at all, etc.

As he filled out the paperwork in the office, he remarked, "The watch looks very fitting on you," thus reminding me that I was still wearing his. I quickly returned it with thanks for letting me borrow it.

With our debrief complete, I was free to go. What a delight my flight was that day! What freedom! What accomplishment!  There's quite nothing like that feeling!