Exploring the "Unknown"- Another Cross-Country Flight

Lesson 28

11-8-12

2.7 hours logged

33.5 hours total recorded in logbook

Today I was finally able to fly again for the first time since the middle of last month and the first time at HXF since my cross country on October 5th as the weather much of that month was not very conducive to flying. Thus you can understand my excitement to be back in the familiar surroundings of the CubAir hangar and, best of all, the cockpit of 9721Y. 

Lake Sinissippi

Today we would at last be flying the cross-country flight I'd had planned out for a month. Our planned route was HXF to Baraboo-Wisconsin Dells (DLL), to Wautoma (Y50), and back to HXF. But before we could fly, we first had to, as the FAA puts it, "become familiar with all available information concerning the flight." For our purposes that day, this mostly concerned the weather information so Joe showed me where I could find all of this online. It seemed like a lot but by the time we were done, I felt I certainly knew what to expect. With the current wind information, we updated my flight planning logs then I pre-flighted the plane. Finding everything in good order we rolled the plane out and climbed in, quickly closing the door after us to keep out the cold as much as possible. On chilly days such as this was I daresay you're extra glad for that little starter button instead of having to stand out in the cold to hand-prop the plane!

Surprising for the temperature, the wind was actually from the south so I opted to takeoff on 18 instead of 29 which, while closer to putting us directly on our westerly heading, would also have meant taking off in a pretty strong crosswind-- strong for me anyway, especially since I hadn't flown in a while. Takeoff at 11:03 was as it should be and though the steps involved have now become almost second nature, I still love the sensations it gives--the throb of the engine, the stick and throttle vibrating in my hands, the transition from jolting and jarring across the grass to the smoothness of flight. Then beneath your wings and stretching out far away on all sides opens up a whole new world you never knew existed from the ground--a whole new world just waiting to be explored from the air. It's a wonderful thing!

At 500 feet, we turned toward the west pointing the nose in the general direction of our first checkpoint--a road/railroad intersection. Due to a rather low ceiling, we couldn't climb above 2,000 feet at first. Gradually, however,  as we flew farther west, the clouds began to break up a little and it wasn't long until I saw a patch of blue sky and then the sun shining through. It was just what our study of the weather before we left had told us would happen! It was still plenty hazy but I was grateful for the sunshine. A little solar heating in addition to the little cabin heat that is actually felt is a big help.

The town of Juneau-Dodge Country Airport can be seen just to the north of town

Beaver Dam Lake and Hwy 151

We crossed Lake Sinissippi, passed Juneau where I could see the building where my dad works, and crossed Hwys 26 and 151, the little towns of Doylestown and Rio and soon came within sight of the great smokestacks of the powerplant near Portage. As with last time, it was exciting to see things looking just the way they were supposed to according to the course I'd marked out on the sectional. A road here, a railroad there, a powerline crossing them, a little lake on this side, an odd-shaped one over there. Even though you may never have seen these places before, you feel like you've already been there as they come into sight gradually, one at a time right where they're supposed to. The sectional suddenly comes to life. That is one of the most exciting things about cross-country flying I think.

Portage powerplant with it's unmistakeable stacks

Cooling reservoir
Note the steam coming off the warmer water on the right half.

Bridge spanning the Wisconsin River

The Hwy 39-90-94 and 39-78 interchange

On our left side now, we could see the ridge rising which signalled that we were nearing our first stop. I began to search for the airport and made the initial radio call stating that we were 10 miles to the southwest, inbound for landing on runway 19. At last, I saw what looked like the airport materialize out of the haze. A little closer and I knew I was right. As compared to finding the airport on my cross-country to Iola, let me just say, an airport with asphalt or concrete runways is much easier to spot then one with grass only!

Our first destination, Baraboo-WI Dells Airport

We entered the pattern on the downwind leg, turned base and final. Now to see if I could still remember how to land. My approach was good right up until the moment the wheel touched. Perhaps I didn't level soon enough or get the stick back far enough but whatever the reason, I hit and bounced majorly. I had to add the power back and practically redo the landing. Not very impressive but I haven't done that many landings on hard surfaces yet and remember, this was my first landing of any kind in three weeks. Nevertheless, I was glad the airport appeared deserted with no one around to witness my embarrassing landing.

On the ground at DLL

Touching down for the second time, we taxied to the parking area and cut the engine. Securing the plane so it wouldn't blow away, we went into the tiny FBO grateful to escape the cold for a little while. Inside we found the sole operator, a friendly guy with whom we chatted for a while. As is often the case among pilots you find it's a small world. This person you've never met before knows so-and-so whom you also know and you have an instant connection. Even without this, there is of course the common bond of flight--understanding of the simple joy of flying and the love of airplanes.

Preparing to leave again

Fifteen minutes out of the cold was enough to give us the courage to go back out and face it, so after settling ourselves in the cockpit again, with everything in place, we taxied back the way we'd come and onto the runway for takeoff. On both landing and takeoff the sun was right in my eyes. Maybe I can blame my bad landing on that! Guess I should have brought my sunglasses along but I'm really not in the habit of wearing them anyway.

Leaving DLL

We climbed out, turned crosswind, downwind, then left the pattern, this time taking up the northeasterly heading that, along with a strong tailwind would take us speedily to our next destination--Wautoma. After picking up our first checkpoint, a sharp bend in the Wisconsin River and some railroad tracks a few miles from the airport, there didn't seem to be much in the way of landmarks within sight to guide us to our next so we simply had to look at the sectional to see what recognizable features might be coming up next. Soon we spotted a few lakes but which ones were they? It took some time, but through process of elimination and as other landmarks began to appear we soon had nailed exactly where we were.

At our next checkpoint near the little town of Oxford, Joe made the decision that we were going to divert to Fond du Lac instead of continuing on to Wautoma for weather reasons I suppose, though conditions didn't look so bad to me. It was still sunny as far as I could see but I was willing to trust Joe's judgment and learn a new lesson in the process.

Green Lake

"So how do we get to Fond du Lac from here?" Joe asked. "Start heading east!" was the logical first thought that came to my mind. A good one for starters. So we turned off our planned course, leaving that line and its carefully marked checkpoints and all our careful calculations behind and venturing into the unknown. Whereas we'd been navigating by dead reckoning up to this point, now we we would be navigating by pilotage, using visual references only, no time or distance calculations involved. Thankfully, we had several good landmarks from which to judge our position. To the south, we could see Buffalo and Puckaway Lakes. From these obvious landmarks, we gradually narrowed things down by using towns, roads, railroads, and powerlines. And so, by this method, we were soon flying over the town of Princeton, crossing Hwy 23, and the upper part of Green Lake. The "unknown" was no longer that. We flew south of Ripon, then paralleled Hwy 23 as were flew toward Fond du Lac, crossing Hwy M and passing Rosendale.

Sights interesting along the way

Hwy 23

Grainery south of Ripon

Rosendale

Shooting lanes surrounding deer stands create an
interesting pattern through the marsh south of FDL.

Rows of kilns stand beside an old quarry

As we flew farther east, the weather again began to close in as we flew back into the stuff we'd left behind flying west. Even from Rosendale, I could barely make out Lake Winnebago in the haze so instead of landing at FLD, Joe decided we'd better head direct to HXF. A turn to the south pointed us in the right direction and took us over the town of Lamartine, across Hwy 151, past Oakfield, Brownsville, Thesea and all the other landmarks already familiar to me since I had flown this route both directions flying to and from Iola last month. Visibility was much lower this time however. Though the we could still see the sunshine in the west, we were flying through that same haze as before and were also flying into the wind again which made this last leg of our flight seem to take a long time. Once, I looked down and saw the cars on the road we were flying along, keeping pace with us! I guess you know you're in a Cub when that happens!

Almost there...

Finally, however, the windmills below us signalled that we were surely, although perhaps slowly,  approaching home. Time to start looking for the airport. In spite of the haze, I spotted it without too much difficulty and by 3:30 we were once again safely on terra firma at HXF. My second cross country flight was complete and it too, as with my last one, was a valuable learning experience, though in an entirely different way. I'm thankful I didn't have the winds of last time to contend with but again, I saw the importance of flexibility in flight planning.

                                                                        

The home airport at last!

It was wonderful to be flying in the Cub again but each flight, whether in the Cub or the RV-6, has something of value to teach and each takes me one step closer to my solo cross-country, the next big step in my aviation journey.

First Lesson at OSH

Lesson 27
10-16-12
1.0 hours logged
30.8 hours total recorded in logbook

Tuesday morning, October 16th found me headed to Oshkosh to meet Joe Norris (who also instructs there) for my very first flying lesson out of Wittman Field through the EAA Employee Flying Club based at the Jack Mark hangar on 20th Ave. Many of you have probably driven by it many times before. Joe spent the first half hour giving me an orientation on the plane we'd be flying--an RV-6A. It is a homebuilt experimental and this one is equipped with a nosewheel instead of the tailwheel I'm used to on the Cub. This, along with the fact that the RV-6 is a low-wing airplane while the Cub is high-wing, is probably one of the most obvious differences between the two among many others as you'll see throughout this post.

Together, Joe and I went through the pre-flight. There are obviously different things to check than on the Cub, though certainly some items are the same. We pushed open the big hangar doors which open to the east and pulled the little plane outside, climbed in, buckled our safety belts which, in this plane, also include shoulder straps, and closed the canopy. There is a checklist for engine start-up which is somewhat more detailed than the simple "spin-the-prop" or "push-the-starter-button" method of the Cub. In the RV-6 you actually turn a key to start it! Imagine that!

We let the engine warm up a bit before taxiing then Joe let me practice a bit in front of the hangar. It's certainly a different feel. As with the Cub you steer with a combination of rudder and brake but the brake configuration is different--heel brakes in the Cub, toe brakes in the RV-6. One major difference between nosewheel vs. tailwheel aircraft that becomes immediately apparent is that when taxiing, you can actually see where you're going without S-turning as in the Cub. You can see over the nose! What a revelation! It's true I had to strain a bit as the cockpit of the RV-6 is quite deep and the seats rather low but I could see!

Joe called the tower and requested permission to proceed. The controller cleared us to taxi and we headed out down the taxiway to the end of Runway 9. The pre-takeoff checklist is also a bit more than the simple CIGARS mnemonic we use in the Cub but we checked almost the same things and finding everything in good order requested and were given permission to takeoff. How big the runway seemed! So wide! I advanced the throttle to full power and we were on our way. As Joe had predicted, it took a lot of right rudder to keep the nose pointed straight down the runway but at 90 mph, all it took was a little back pressure on the stick and we were airborne.

Other differences soon began to manifest themselves. Flaps for one thing. The Cub doesn't have any. This is one of those extra things to check on the checklists. The cockpit configuration is also different. For starters the seating is side by side rather than in tandem resulting in a roomier feel as well as a different look/feel when taxiing and turning in flight. In addition to this, since the throttle is in the middle of the panel rather than over on the left side as in the Cub, the right hand controls this while the left hand handles the stick. That definitely felt strange at first and is going to take some getting used to.

Even with all these differences, however, I found myself able to adjust fairly quickly. We exited the pattern and flew west of town to practice turns, slow flight and the like, just so I could get a feeling for the plane. As for its actual flight characteristics, I found it just as responsive to even the tiniest control inputs and just as eager to climb as the first time I handled the controls on a short flight earlier in the summer at a flying club meeting. It handles beautifully.

After close to an hour in flight, we headed back to the airport and were given permission to land on 18. Flying the approach right over town was a new feeling for me as a student pilot since HXF is pretty much in the country. It made me a slight bit uneasy as I wondered what we'd do if the engine quit here. I suppose we would have been close enough to the airport to glide in and still make it but it's definitely not something I'm used to flying out of HXF where there's plenty of fields all around where one might set down in an emergency and few houses. 

Again, that runway looked absolutely huge as we came down to meet it. Over the runway threshold, I flared--a bit to early perhaps--we floated for a few seconds, then I pulled the throttle and we were down with hardly a bump. It was so smooth in fact that I could hardly believe we were actually down! It was so easy! It seems that, just as it has been told to me over and over again, landings in the tricycle gear airplane are no trouble at all after having done them in a tailwheel aircraft. It shouldn't have surprised me I guess but I found it very exciting! Their predictions were correct! Part of this may be due to the airplane itself also however. When I voiced my surprise to Joe he told me that this plane is  "a real sweetheart" when it comes to landings and just all around. "Everyone who flies it, loves it!" he said.

After exiting the runway, we taxied to the self serve for fuel.  When we climbed out, we found that the wind had picked up considerably. "Good thing we flew early," Joe remarked.  When we'd finished fueling, we climbed back in, went through the engine start-up checklist all over again and Joe requested permission to taxi back to the hangar. You have to request permission to do anything at these towered airports it seems! Back at the hanger--I taxied the whole way with no trouble--we shut down the engine and headed inside to complete the paperwork. 

My first lesson out of OSH and in an RV-6 was complete. Adjusting to towered airport operation will take time but as for the flying, I have to agree with Joe that that RV-6 is a sweet airplane to fly. You know, I'm not quite sure but for some reason I think I now understand what is meant when they talk about the "RV grin" as I'm pretty sure I was wearing it as I left the hangar!

Leaving the Pattern

Lesson 26

10-5-12

2.9 hours logged

29.8 hours total recorded in logbook

Following a mentally overwhelming two-hour flight planning session yesterday afternoon sandwiched between a two-hour music rehearsal in Menomonee Falls and over an hour long drive back to Oshkosh for two hours of Bible Institute class, I finally arrived home around 8:30p.m. After trying rather unsuccessfully to plan out the rest of my flight scheduled for the following day going off of what little it seemed I could remember from the afternoon of how to go about this, I went to bed sometime after midnight to the sound of the wind whistling outside.  None of this seemed to bode well for a cross-country flight the next day.

Sure enough. The day dawned cold and windy--and I mean windy! At least the sun's shining, I thought as I gathered my things and headed for the car. This was an improvement over the blustery overcast of the day before and provided a small comfort. Yet I still arrived at the airport stressed and with some trepidation, something Steve (M.) picked up on immediately. He didn't say anything about it then but later he told me he'd said to Dana, "I've never seen her so nervous and quiet before." It wasn't the flying I was nervous about but I was obviously downcast when Steve asked how my flight planning had gone. I sure didn't have much to show for a couple hours wrangling, neck deep in terms, figures, calculations and the whole use of the E6-B flight computer. It was trying to wrap my mind around all this that had me worried.

We had only an hour before our planned time of departure so Steve did his best to walk me quickly through a few calculations pertaining to our flight which now, with the updated wind information, he decided had better only be up to Iola and back instead of our originally planned route of HXF to Manitowoc, to Iola, and back to HXF. (Less time in the air and thus, less time getting bounced around in the more-than-20-knot, gusty wind.) I still didn't understand much of it and my face must've revealed my discouragement. "Are you gonna be okay with this?" Steve asked. I nodded. I knew I'd be okay once we got off the ground. "Okay then. Go ahead and preflight 21Y," he told me. 

As I did the walk-around, I tried not to let the cold or my agitated state of mind interfere with my careful inspection of the various attachment points, the engine compartment, or the control surfaces. I finished and met Steve coming out of the office. He looked scrutinizingly into my face as he asked once again, "Are you sure you're ready?" 

"Yes, I'm ready," I replied as firmly as I could, returning his look. I was as ready as I'd ever be and there was no way I was not going to make this trip if Steve was okay with going in spite of the less-than-ideal winds. I'd been looking forward to it all week and, in addition, it had worked out that Mr. Rushing was going to fly some friends up to meet me at our destination--the famous Iola Friday fly-in and lunch. So no matter my frustration with the flight planning, plus just being tired, I meant it when I told Steve I was ready. "Okay," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

We pushed the Cub out of the hangar, I gathered my carefully marked and folded sectional charts and airport directory, gloves and hat (which I was soon to be very grateful I'd remembered to bring), and climbed in, Steve after me. He closed the door to bar the wind and cold as much as possible but both seeped in through the cracks around the windows and door anyway. We started up, taxied to the end of Runway 29, and went through our pre-takeoff checklist. I pushed the throttle to full power, and we were off. In an incredibly short few seconds, we were airborne at 10:03a.m. Our ground roll must've been fewer than 30 feet thanks to the strong wind! We climbed to our altitude of 2500 ft. and made the turn to our compass heading which had both a significant wind correction angle and magnetic variation figured into it. 

So from here on out it's simple, right? Just hold heading and altitude! That's easier said than done, I soon discovered--especially in a wind like that! We went through some bumps as we were climbing, but once we reached altitude, we actually found the air to be smoother than we had anticipated. 

Gradually, I began to relax and my spirits rose with the airplane as I drank in the beauty of the landscape passing slowly beneath us. Far below, I could see our shadow. That always makes me smile. From up here, I could put all those flight planning problems behind me and focus on the fun part--flying the airplane! And also not getting lost! We hadn't gotten too far when Steve asked me where we were. I pulled out my map and began the search for landmarks. For the moment, it wasn't too hard to guess where we were without even looking at the sectional. We were approaching the large windmill farm that lies just northwest of HXF and is one of the major landmarks in finding that airport. Soon I spotted the white ball of a radome which was marked on the map. It was right where it should be, just to the west of my course line. This also made me feel better. It was to good to see that all that brainwork on the ground it paying off in the air as the landmarks lined up.

Sometimes Steve would take over the flying for me while I checked and double-checked our whereabouts. Handling both flying and navigating was a bit much--in that wind at least! I wasn't too afraid of getting lost, just didn't want to stray off course. We flew over, or near the towns of Theresa, Mayville, Knowles, and Oakfield and as we passed Horicon Marsh on the left, I began to search for my first checkpoint--Hwy 151. It seemed slow to appear but I finally caught sight of it and could answer without hesitation when Steve asked me "What road is this?" 

Aerial view of our land

Now I could see Lake Winnebago and the Fond du Lac airport clearly on my right. There was Hwy 23 and then Eldorado Marsh. Now things really began to look familiar. There was Rosendale and--oh! Looming directly ahead of us and only slightly below, a very tall radio tower. We were a bit too close to it for comfort, so Steve told me I'd better climb a couple hundred feet. I pushed the throttle forward accordingly. We crossed Hwy 26 and my excitment built as I realized we were going to fly right over my house! I pointed it out to Steve and he took the controls and threw the plane into a right bank so I could get a picture. I didn't know our course was going to take us directly over the house or I'd have told Mom to be on the lookout for us. We couldn't take time to circle or anything as we were still trying to keep to our time and so continued on by. About the time we crossed my second checkpoint, Hwy 44 over Pickett, I heard Mr. Rushing's voice over the radio! They were already nearing our destination while we had only just passed the half-way point time-wise of 10:30! A quick comparison of this with the distance remaining to fly showed that we were already off on our time. The flight was taking longer than we'd planned.


As we continued northward, the terrain below once again became unfamiliar. Our course took us directly across Lake Poygan but Steve told me to steer around this. "That water would be cold," was all the reason he gave and all that was needed. I didn't need to be told twice. I could tell just by looking that, were we to have an engine failure over the middle of the lake, we probably would not be able to glide to the shore. Steve has been teaching me to be constantly aware of the nature of the terrain below and almost subconsciously thinking, where would I land if the engine conked now. This is simply good practice for any pilot. The farther north we travelled, however, the less suitable landing places there were. Fewer and fewer fields and more woods. Though less hospitable to off-airport landings, their colors sure were beautiful!

Gorgeous colors!!!

On approach to land at Iola (68C)

After passing a third checkpoint, Waupaca Airport, it was time to begin the search for the tiny airport at Iola. Here for the first time, I could find no obvious landmarks agreeing with what I saw on the sectional. We weren't lost--at least Steve didn't seem to be. If I'd been flying alone though.... Even when he pointed out several small lakes in the distance as landmarks, I didn't seem to be able to figure out which ones they were on the map. We were getting close and still I could not see the airport. Where could it be?! Even when Steve finally pointed it out to me, it took me a minute to actually see. It's so small! As confirmation that this was indeed Iola, he also pointed out the junkyard of cars not too far from the airport. Dana had told me to watch for this as it is easier to see than the airport itself. She was right!

I flew the approach to Runway 22 but Steve helped me out quite a bit with the landing. It was just so gusty! Once we were down, he let me taxi us over to a parking spot beside N7374E--the Wings 172. I hadn't even stopped when I caught sight of Mr. Rushing and the three other familiar faces of my friends. I was so glad to see them! I swung the plane around, facing into the wind, and cut the switches. Steve graciously told me he'd take care of securing the plane so I could meet them so I climbed out rather stiffly and was soon face to face with the four of them. For Mr. Rushing's three passengers, it was their first time ever up in a plane so I asked, "How was the flight?" Their smiles were answer enough for the moment. "You must've made good time," I remarked. "Twenty-eight minutes," Mr. Rushing told me. He met Steve and they hit it off well as most fellow pilots seem to.

Together, we all walked inside the main building on the airport--a barn-like structure with this message on the side: "Built for the Love of Flying." Inside, it was warm in both atmosphere and (especially welcome) temperature. A fire blazed on the hearth in the one corner and the smell of  lunch cooking filled our nostrils. Standing in groups of twos or threes, or seated on couches or at the long tables which occupied the greater part of the room were the usual fly-in crowd. Mostly older folks, but some younger ones, men and women, pilots and non-pilots. Above our heads hung an array of all types and sizes of model airplanes.

Soon the line began forming for the meal and we fell in. It was a delicious lunch! Pork chops, mashed potatoes, gravy, beans, rolls, applesauce, and pie or cookies with ice cream for desert! As we ate, my friends told me their first impressions of flying. Comments like the following reminded me of my own early flights: "The houses look like dollhouses!" "But it didn't seem like we were really going that fast!" "He let me fly for a while! It's not as hard as I thought it would be."


We were just finishing when Steve, talking to Mr. Rushing about my flight training so far, said, "We're not letting her off with just being a straight-and-level, fairweather pilot. We're doing short-field, soft-field takeoffs and landings, dead stick landings, wheel landings, the whole bit and we're working her hard the whole way." It seemed a fairly accurate description but I must say I'm glad they're doing things the way they are. I do want to be the best I possibly can be.

The airport as seen from the air. Can you find it?

Now Steve turned to me and began to discuss the plan for our flight from Iola. He told me if I felt up to it, we could try flying to Clintonville by pilotage. I told him I was and so he went out to preflight the Cub while I finished my conversation and said goodbye to my friends. They accompanied me to the plane and watched as we climbed in, buckled up, and taxied back out the way we'd come in. Again we used Runway 22. As I pushed the throttle to full power, I gave one final quick wave to that little group of four who had braved the biting wind to come stand beside the runway as I took off. In seconds, we were airborne. 

The Cub seemed reluctant to climb at first and the trees at the edge of the field loomed up quickly, but finally, the plane climbed out of ground effect and we cleared the trees with plenty of room to spare then circled back around in the opposite direction to begin our flight in the direction of Clintonville. Now we were caught in the teeth of the wind again and it tossed us first this way, then that, up and then down, once with such force that I was thrown against my seatbelt as I lifted out of the seat! Good thing Steve had reminded me to be sure it was fastened!

We hadn't gone far and Steve asked me how I was doing. I felt fine in spite of the turbulence and told him so but he made the decision that we'd better forget the flight to Clintonville and head straight for home. Accordingly, I turned us back to the south. "Looks like we're in for a rough time of it!" Steve said. "I can tell you right now this flight isn't going to be much fun." I felt his hands and feet with mine on the controls a good portion of the time. "The best thing to do in this kind of turbulence," he told me, "is just to keep the wings level." I noted he wasn't quite so concerned with holding exact heading and altitude now. All his concentration was simply on flying the plane.

Just to make our trip qualify as a dual cross-country by FAA standards with three takeoffs and three landings, he decided we'd do a touch-and-go at Waupaca. The airport soon came into view and we began our descent. By this time Steve was doing most of the flying. I just followed him lightly on the controls. Even this was difficult to do at times. As we neared the ground, the stick in front of me jerked back and forth, side to side erratically and the rudder pedals were working like crazy and Steve guided the Cub down to the hard surface of Runway 31. At last the wheels touched, though only for a few seconds. He gave it full throttle and we were climbing again in far less time than it takes to tell it. Whew! I could almost sense his relief at being away from the ground again. "Frankly, that landing was about at the edge of my limits," he told me. "I'll need to change my shirt when we get back!" He might very well have been sweating but my teeth were chattering. The sun had become obscured by clouds and, let me tell you, it was cold! My muscles soon grew tense with it. That lever labelled "Cabin Heat" doesn't seem to do much of anything!

When our fuel indicator began to look low, Steve had me switch on the fuel lever to allow the fuel in the wings to flow down and replace the empty space in the tank up front. Soon the gas gauge rose to a much more comfortable level. Now there was nothing to do but hang on and do our best to stick to our course--and keep and eye out for other traffic. You wouldn't think this would be a concern on such a blustery day but there was still plenty of chatter over the radio indicating the presence of other aircraft in spite of the wind. Steve's vigilance paid off when, just southwest of Oshkosh, he suddenly caught sight of another aircraft on a collision course with our own. No sooner had he shouted the alarm then, before I had even barely caught sight of the plane, Steve threw ours into a quick dive out of the path of the oncoming aircraft whose pilot evidently never even saw us! Wow! What a lesson in situational awareness and traffic avoidance! It's important never to let it slide even on cold and windy days!

Our house

Arun and Bethany's house

As we flew on, the air gradually smoothed out a bit, making the second half of the flight a little better than the first--but it was still cold. Our course again took us over Pickett and my house, past Arun and Bethany's house just a few miles from ours, past Rosendale, across   Hwy 151, and all the landmarks we'd flown over that morning. Approaching the wind farm, it was time to start searching for the airport. It took me a while but, sure enough, there it was--home--just as we'd left it. We flew a teardrop shaped pattern and landed on 29 on the grass. We were back at last! Whew! What a flight! 

Steve K. and Dana were glad to see us back and they, and the dogs, gave us a warm welcome. Then Steve M. filled out my logbook--a whole 2.9 hours flying time--the longest I've been up yet! In the remarks section he wrote simply "Dual X-country" then added "Very windy!" Those few words encompass a flight that was simple in some ways but in others was the most challenging flying I have ever done!

Home at last!

One of the things I learned aside from just the technical aspects of flight planning and preparation was to be flexible during the flight--constantly able to adjust and adapt as needed to changes in wind direction, course (to fly around Lake Poygan in this case, but another reason might be for weather), speed, altitude, etc. Often if one of these changes, several others are affected. I'm still getting used to that whole idea. Now about the wind...It was good for me to have the experience of flying in it and I don't regret it at all for that very reason. Still, I'm hoping for a little less next time as I'm sure Steve is also!

Even so, I think I can honestly say I didn't mind the bumpy flight. Seeing the grins on three faces still showing the delight that only the thrill of first flight can put there more than made up for the rough ride and the cold of my flight. Introducing people to this whole new and wonderful world is its own reward. To see the earth from this new dimension--the vantage point of the birds...I don't think you ever quite get over it even if you never actually learn to fly. And giving others the chance to experience this is well worth the cost! The timing for this flight could hardly have been more perfect. It was the seven-year anniversary of my own very first single-engine airplane ride, off by one day. How special! Any day in which you are able to introduce three new people to the wonderful world of flight has to be a good one!

The Finer Points of Flying

Lesson 25
9-28-12
1.1 hours logged
26.9 hours total recorded in logbook

Though I wasn't even scheduled to fly today it happened that they had an opening and so asked if I would like to come down. I said yes of course and so less than 24 hours after my previous lesson was on my way down to HXF again. It was another beautiful sunny day and still fairly early in the morning. Operating as we did from runway 36 we were in the perfect position that the shadow of the Cub was just off the left wing. I've never seen it so clearly before. It's a beautiful sight!

I flew with Steve M. and today we worked on short-field takeoffs and landings for a good portion of the time. I practiced using the throttle to control my rate of descent and using the best climb speed on takeoff. These are all the finer points of takeoffs and landings. In practicing short field landing technique, we made it our goal to touchdown just after a slight dip about at the halfway point of the first half of the runway and still stop before reaching the concrete runway bisecting 36. I did all right with a little help from Steve on the brakes. On my last one, I managed to stop even before the taxiway! I'm not sure how many feet that was but it was short!

Another thing we tried was flying the entire length of the runway "bottle high" as Steve called it--only a couple or three feet off the ground but never letting the wheels touch. Finally you give it full power and soar up and away. "It's a great way to check a field over before landing if you have to make an off-airport one," he told me. We also did a go-around, simulated engine out landing and a few more wheel landings. That's quite a bit to cram into an hour's worth of flying time.

Back in the office however, after filling out the logbooks, Steve and I spent another hour working on ground school--preparation for the oral part of my checkride which may be coming up sooner than I think. Steve said I could be ready by Christmas. That's really not as far off as it sounds. Well, let me just say, it looks like I'll need to do quite a bit of studying to be up to par. This lesson, perhaps more so than any I've had up to this point really challenged me and caused me to realize how little I really know and how much I've got to learn. I guess what it really boils down to is the difference between the actual flying part of learning to fly and all the brainwork of memorizing terms, tables, formulas and figures that go along with it. Steve told me there are those to whom the bookwork and study is the easy part and flying is difficult and there are others to whom flying comes naturally and they struggle with the study part. He put me in the latter category. I knew he was right. The flying does come pretty easily to me--the rest, not quite so much. I've got a lot of studying to do.

Before I left, Steve M. gave Steve K. the report on what we worked on. Steve K. listened and nodded approvingly. It's all good stuff to know if you're going to be flying in any kind of back-country. The two of them told me regaled me with stories of the landing strips they've heard of in bush flying. One way in, one way out, uphill, downhill, strips that take you off the edge of a cliff or have trees or terrain that must be cleared on takeoff. All part of the exciting world of bush flying! 

Speaking of exciting, one other thing we discussed before I left was initial plans for my first dual cross-country which we agreed we'd plot the following Thursday and fly the next day. After suggesting a few destinations we decided on Iola. This little airport holds a fly-in lunch each Friday, semi-famous with both locals and "not so locals" because, to a pilot, distance means less than to an automobile driver. The world becomes smaller in more ways than one once you've entered the "aviation brotherhood." We casually decided the route would be Hartford to Manitowoc, Manitowoc to Iola, and Iola back to Hartford. Despite feeling a little discouraged over the ground school session, I was already looking forward to this with much anticipation.