The following may have allegedly happened to me during my first solo a few years ago. I will deny it vociferously if pressed on the matter. In fact, I deny it now:
****
After waiting week after week after week for a calm day, with clear visibility, it was finally MY BIG DAY.
The instructor hopped out of the C150. "Good luck, do about three circuits, then taxi back to the club". Gulp.
Deep breaths. VERY careful checks. Perfect radio calls. "Clear takeoff, runway 27". Here I go. Up, up and away. Wheee.
On final approach during the third circuit, I decide that I'm having an absolute blast, and 'about three circuits' actually means 'four'. Well it does, doesn't it? Yes, it clearly does. Oh, yes.
If only I'd known...
On the fourth climb out, the bl00dy, flipping, peeing, s0dding seat-runner catch slipped, and I found my finger-tips over a foot away from the yoke. At 200 feet. Watching the airspeed decay.
Panic? Moi? Mais, non. I have the heart of a lion. Yeah, right.
Swearing loudly at myself, the aeroplane, the seat, I pushed the yoke hard forward with my shin, (Ouch, but who cares), released the harness, then parked my bum on the metal bar at the front of the seat (Uncomfortable, but who cares).
I sorted the seat out during crosswind. Harness back on. Safe and sound. Phew, that was a close one.
(Below me is the Mersey. Around me is controlled Scouse airspace. Riddle-me-ree, where am I?).
Shaking like an epileptic leaf, I continued around the circuit, trying not to whimper too much during my downwind call.
"G-XXXX is d-d-downwind".
No answer from the controller. Had the sudden slam backwards of the seat damaged an aerial cable or something? What do I do if it has? Something about flying parallel to the runway flashing my lights on and off and on and off. Probably. Aarrgghhh!
"G-XXXX is late downwind".
Nothing. Oh lordy-lord. It's just not my day.
"G-XXXX is VERY LATE downwind".
Nothing.
"G-XXXX IS VERY, VERY LATE DOWNWIND".
Thankfully, the controller had only popped downstairs for a pee. Returning to the tower, her reassuring tones filled the airwaves. However, you can all understand that I'm very close to tears by now.
THIS. HAS. NOT. BEEN. A. GOOD. CIRCUIT. FOR. ME.
Top landing, though.
Lessons learned?
One. Always ensure that your seat is fully locked whenever you climb into a Cessna 150 or 152. I've found out subsequently that the seat-runner locks are notorious for this sort of thing. Rocking back and forth like Grandpa Moses works for me.
Two. Do as you're bl00dy well told by the instructor.
[This message has been edited by Tricky Woo (edited 20 September 2000).]