Melbourne ... cold cold winter morning ... Just after sunrise... Me in a Tiger Moth starting to freeze, when after my first landing Beth Garrett, the instructor tells me to stop when I have returned to the take off end of the all over field. She gets out and starts tossing her cushions off the metal seat pan designed for parachutes. We aren't high enough to see over the coaming without cushions under us.
I thought Beth must have been uncomfortable but got a big surprise when she whacks them under her arm and says, " Right! Off you go. Do just one circuit".
So, that's why the old man drove me to the aerodrome. Usually I catch a bus then a train and then another bus. He was in on the secret.
Off I go. Gotta keep on the gravel runway as the grass is soft. Not used to narrow confines.
Leap into the air and climb rapidly. Exhilaration... Wow I'm up here alone and turning downwind already.
" OK start concentrating." Checklist... Fuel on, slats unlocked, hatches closed and harness tight". Keep looking around through struts and wires, moving my head about in case someone else is in front.
Turning point for base, start watching the tower more. "Ah a steady green light from the tower". Turn to final, " don't muck it up now... 58 knots... throttle fully closed... getting a bit high... hold the attitude... need a bit of a side slip... Oh oh! now I'm a bit off centre of the gravel strip... Ignore it as I need to start rounding out.
Clunk and bounce... Not too high, stick right back. Another clunk with the left wheel in the gravel path beside the strip where the flares are located for night flying. Bit of drag to the left but under control.
Slow down to walking pace, no one on final, so taxi back to Beth.
Hell I've done it FIRST SOLO. Jubilation! That was 28 August 1960.
I doubt too many forget their first solo.