Story time... give me your best.
Thread Starter
Story time... give me your best.
G'day everyone.
Maybe this isn't the right place for it, but I've noticed over the time I've been looking and occasionally posting on PPRUNE that there is a lot of doom and gloom cast over aviation in this country, for many valid reasons.
The idea of this thread, is to post your favourite or an enjoyable aviation experience you have had recently or in the past. There are a lot of people like myself that are still (perhaps delusionally) in love with flying in this country, who want to own aeroplanes and fly as much as they can who read these forums, and I thought it might be nice to have some more postive things out there to show the other side of our passion. There are some blokes and gals here with more experience than you could poke a stick at that must have some pretty awesome stories.
I'll kick it off with something pretty benign, I don't exactly have copious amounts of flying experience (yet), but have been in love with aviation for as long as I can remember thanks to my Dads efforts as an airport refuler at Bankstown taking me out with him in the truck on a regular basis when I was 7 years old.
I recently completed my first aero solo in a civlian aircraft, the first time I've really flown an aeroplane without an instructor and had time to really sit back (as opposed to having a very set strict crteria of objectives to complete) and just enjoy what I was doing. I don't think I've felt anything like it before, and I don't think I could get the smile off of my face. Never thought a C172 would be able to do that to me, but I stand corrected. Since getting involved in the civilian side of flying, all I can think is that I want to be an aircraft owner, despite the obvious financial stupidity of that, and just enjoy my own personal flying as much as I want to do it for work. It was great fun.
*disclaimer* If this thread is too lame or a waste of time I'll delete it and we will never speak of it again.
Maybe this isn't the right place for it, but I've noticed over the time I've been looking and occasionally posting on PPRUNE that there is a lot of doom and gloom cast over aviation in this country, for many valid reasons.
The idea of this thread, is to post your favourite or an enjoyable aviation experience you have had recently or in the past. There are a lot of people like myself that are still (perhaps delusionally) in love with flying in this country, who want to own aeroplanes and fly as much as they can who read these forums, and I thought it might be nice to have some more postive things out there to show the other side of our passion. There are some blokes and gals here with more experience than you could poke a stick at that must have some pretty awesome stories.
I'll kick it off with something pretty benign, I don't exactly have copious amounts of flying experience (yet), but have been in love with aviation for as long as I can remember thanks to my Dads efforts as an airport refuler at Bankstown taking me out with him in the truck on a regular basis when I was 7 years old.
I recently completed my first aero solo in a civlian aircraft, the first time I've really flown an aeroplane without an instructor and had time to really sit back (as opposed to having a very set strict crteria of objectives to complete) and just enjoy what I was doing. I don't think I've felt anything like it before, and I don't think I could get the smile off of my face. Never thought a C172 would be able to do that to me, but I stand corrected. Since getting involved in the civilian side of flying, all I can think is that I want to be an aircraft owner, despite the obvious financial stupidity of that, and just enjoy my own personal flying as much as I want to do it for work. It was great fun.
*disclaimer* If this thread is too lame or a waste of time I'll delete it and we will never speak of it again.
Last edited by junior.VH-LFA; 19th Nov 2014 at 01:54.
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Mine was two weeks ago when I turned up for another lesson on the C172 (16 hours total) and the instructor said to go and take it flying, by myself. This was the first solo time without a check from the instructor first. I had done around 1.5 hours of solo previously, but always after letting the instructor out.
While the first solo was memorable, this was my first real experience as PIC with no intervention, real flying, albeit in a circuit
While everything I read about GA worries me, jumping in the cockpit and flying makes you tune out to all the noise.
While the first solo was memorable, this was my first real experience as PIC with no intervention, real flying, albeit in a circuit
While everything I read about GA worries me, jumping in the cockpit and flying makes you tune out to all the noise.
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Just past weekend, I finally got to the stage to carry pax into the training area in a C152 and C172.
Now, I've been solo in the training area a few times prior, but carrying friends and showing them "This is what I do" for the first time gave me a real sense of pride in what I've achieved in my training thus far.
And since none of them had any aerial experience besides being in airliners, the view at 4500 on a severe VFR day showed them a side they've never seen before. The intercom was silent for most of the time, punctuated by "Ooh"s and "Aah"s, clicks of DSLRs taking pictures as they held it too close to the mic boom, and several questions as we flew along.
It was a fun weekend for all who participated, but it was an extremely validating experience for myself
Now, I've been solo in the training area a few times prior, but carrying friends and showing them "This is what I do" for the first time gave me a real sense of pride in what I've achieved in my training thus far.
And since none of them had any aerial experience besides being in airliners, the view at 4500 on a severe VFR day showed them a side they've never seen before. The intercom was silent for most of the time, punctuated by "Ooh"s and "Aah"s, clicks of DSLRs taking pictures as they held it too close to the mic boom, and several questions as we flew along.
It was a fun weekend for all who participated, but it was an extremely validating experience for myself
Ah to be 22 again 
It may come as a surprise to you LFA that the vast majority of us started out with the same exuberance and enthusiasm you did.
Anyway, pictures tell a thousand words right?
Green Island
Real flying
It may come as a surprise to you LFA that the vast majority of us started out with the same exuberance and enthusiasm you did.Anyway, pictures tell a thousand words right?
Green Island
Real flying
Last edited by j3pipercub; 19th Nov 2014 at 01:10.
Thread Starter
Sprucegoose
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Never lose the passion, even after 9000 hours every flight still brings a smile to my face!
Taking my grandparents for a fly. They had been flying with dad before and were supportive of his flying pursuit, and then I got to take them flying when I was able to take passengers. I think they'd be pretty proud of my achievements and where I am now with my career nearly 5000hrs later.
Yeah there's some cool stories of crap weather, dodgy aircraft and operators in the middle of nowhere, oddball pax and circumstances etc... But they don't make me as happy as I was taking grandparents (and many other very supportive family members) up for a fly, purely just for the fun of going for a fly.
Yeah there's some cool stories of crap weather, dodgy aircraft and operators in the middle of nowhere, oddball pax and circumstances etc... But they don't make me as happy as I was taking grandparents (and many other very supportive family members) up for a fly, purely just for the fun of going for a fly.
Try this Australian story of the good old days. Pity the editor didn't spell Momote correctly. Beats the hell of ploughing through Part 61 at bedtime.
Four Merlins to Memote - Air Facts Journal
Four Merlins to Memote - Air Facts Journal
Indeed that is the taxiway for runway 21 at YLTV Latrobe Valley. It's where I first flew a 172 with young Evan Constas as my instructor. I believe he has moved onto big stuff or at least he did some 20 years ago. That was when John Willis was the CFI. The 172 was somewhat less advanced than the one in your picture.
Dr, I may be aware of "someone" that has taken off on that taxiway, just sayin'
Dr, I may be aware of "someone" that has taken off on that taxiway, just sayin'
Thread Starter
Indeed it is YLTV. Nice airport and I've enjoyed flying there.
You two better spill the beans...
I've spent my lunch time reading up on Cessna P210's... a man can dream.
You two better spill the beans...
I've spent my lunch time reading up on Cessna P210's... a man can dream.
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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.
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.
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My most memorable flight - was my last flight.
Almost a year to the day - the Skipper gave me the opportunity to fly the last sector of the pattern back into Sydney.
It all ended with a visual approach to approx 5nm final Rwy 16R. Down over Mosman from the coast, dipped the wing around Gladesville and into the slot at 5nm. A real bit of flying that was rewarding and enjoyable. Jagged a nice touchdown in the zone for the 18 wheeler.
Although I talk like it was just me - it was really the combined efforts of the skipper and the other 2 guys that made it all happen like silk. I just did the caressing and fondling of the controls. They did all the work. Thanks guys.
I remember walking out the gang plank and into the terminal......having that look back to make sure the strobes or beacon were not left on after a long night at work.
I did not know it at the time - but it was my last flight. Medical cancelled and job terminated. Flying over half way through a career.
When a Jumbo goes past - I still look up and think of that visual approach - what a great way to finish when you never saw it coming! I still see the guys faces in my thoughts - and mentally thank them for a great last flight.
Cheers guys.
Almost a year to the day - the Skipper gave me the opportunity to fly the last sector of the pattern back into Sydney.
It all ended with a visual approach to approx 5nm final Rwy 16R. Down over Mosman from the coast, dipped the wing around Gladesville and into the slot at 5nm. A real bit of flying that was rewarding and enjoyable. Jagged a nice touchdown in the zone for the 18 wheeler.
Although I talk like it was just me - it was really the combined efforts of the skipper and the other 2 guys that made it all happen like silk. I just did the caressing and fondling of the controls. They did all the work. Thanks guys.
I remember walking out the gang plank and into the terminal......having that look back to make sure the strobes or beacon were not left on after a long night at work.
I did not know it at the time - but it was my last flight. Medical cancelled and job terminated. Flying over half way through a career.
When a Jumbo goes past - I still look up and think of that visual approach - what a great way to finish when you never saw it coming! I still see the guys faces in my thoughts - and mentally thank them for a great last flight.
Cheers guys.
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Two years ago, Christmas, flying a traffic management guy up and down the NSW South Coast to monitor traffic jams.
About to take off for third flight of the day, he get a phone call and starts p!ssing himself laughing. Tells me that a circus truck has overturned just south of us, and monkeys have escaped into the freeway.
Took off in a great hurry, I'm not missing this, and sure enough next to Bombo station there is a Stardust circus truck. It was still upright but the 4WD towing the monkey trailer had caught up to traffic, jackknifed, and overturned.
Fire service are frantically running around trying to corral wayward chimps while we circle overhead, traffic guy taking photos, and me calling everyone to come and have a look.
About to take off for third flight of the day, he get a phone call and starts p!ssing himself laughing. Tells me that a circus truck has overturned just south of us, and monkeys have escaped into the freeway.
Took off in a great hurry, I'm not missing this, and sure enough next to Bombo station there is a Stardust circus truck. It was still upright but the 4WD towing the monkey trailer had caught up to traffic, jackknifed, and overturned.
Fire service are frantically running around trying to corral wayward chimps while we circle overhead, traffic guy taking photos, and me calling everyone to come and have a look.
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Night flights where the cruising level is just on the cloud tops and a big,bright full moon. 'Cloud surfing', watching huge battlements of cumulus sliding by. The extreme thrill of very fast flight past clouds. Gently turning one way, then the next around an endless cloud world. These are things that mere ground dwellers will never experience.
737 Taipei to Guam. Tropical typhoon forecast to be on our track about 600 miles from Taipei. Night flight very dark. Radar scanning ahead for first signs of storms surrounding the eye of the typhoon. Passengers sleeping peacefully, no drunks thank goodness. In cloud but radar has slight ground returns from big waves (or so we thought) but still no sign of storm clouds. Figured typhoon must be well off track. Then without warning straight into severe turbulence, lightning, St Elmo's fire on the windscreen.
Thinks WTF! Check radar tilt and Gain control. Switch distance scale. Radar still peaceful scene with apparent slight returns from sea below. More very heavy turbulence. Turns out radar must have failed earlier in cruise but no warning. We had hit the first storms surrounding the eye. Took a punt and turned 90 degrees right and spent next ten minutes with both pilots heads peering through windscreen watching for gaps and weaving between storm tops that were illuminated by lightning flashes.
Eventually left storms behind and turned to track to Guam. Pacific island air hostess came up front with coffee and said "that was good fun, can we have some more bumps, please?". "You're kidding" said the F/O "why do you want more bumps?" "Because we can have a sleep and don't have to serve dinner to the passengers" said the girl.
Thinks WTF! Check radar tilt and Gain control. Switch distance scale. Radar still peaceful scene with apparent slight returns from sea below. More very heavy turbulence. Turns out radar must have failed earlier in cruise but no warning. We had hit the first storms surrounding the eye. Took a punt and turned 90 degrees right and spent next ten minutes with both pilots heads peering through windscreen watching for gaps and weaving between storm tops that were illuminated by lightning flashes.
Eventually left storms behind and turned to track to Guam. Pacific island air hostess came up front with coffee and said "that was good fun, can we have some more bumps, please?". "You're kidding" said the F/O "why do you want more bumps?" "Because we can have a sleep and don't have to serve dinner to the passengers" said the girl.
My contribution. From a published book of which I, of course, deny all knowledge and/or responsibility. Do not try this at home.
"Sometimes the wind is calm
and sky is clear, perfect conditions for fishing, sometimes the wind is
strong off the shore, good for fishing but the crosswind makes life
exciting for pilot and sometimes there is fog. The fog is the worst.
If the spotter plane flies above the fog he can’t see the fish, if he
flies in the fog he is too close to the fish and the noise of the engine
will frighten them. Luckily, on this occasion the fog has stayed away
until the fishing is completed, but getting home in the fog is the next
problem. The weather is often perfect above the fog banks but once
you are up there, unless the fog is clear at your destination, there is
nowhere to go and the pilot can easily run out of fuel and ideas at the
same time so the technique of ‘fog hopping’ was developed.
While this may sound quite suicidal, in reality it isn’t on the relatively
long beaches on the north coast of Xxxxxxxxxx. A Super Cub with
beach landing wheels and a pilot with an intimate knowledge of the
topography of the coastline can fly home quite safely if he happens
to get stranded on a fog bound beach.
To set things in motion, the aircraft is pointed in the direction
of Xxxxxxx, there being little or no wind in most fogs, and taxied
along the beach at a speed that will allow it to stop within the visible
distance. If the fog only allows a visibility of 50 metres, a speed of
about 10 kilometres per hour is enough. If the fog lifts a little, the
throttle is opened a little, the tail comes up, speed goes up to about
50 kilometres per hour, a slight further improvement in visibility and
we are airborne at 40 knots, about 80 kilometres per hour at a height
of ten feet. If visibility drops again, slow a little, wheels back on the
beach, until conditions improve, then back into the air, sometimes up
to 50 feet and 85 knots, 170 kilometres per hour, then back to sea level
as visibility gets worse.
The headlands are the only problem. It pays to know when one
will appear and if visibility is really bad, it may be necessary to stop
and wait till it improves. If visibility is reasonable, say, more than
a couple of hundred yards, follow the headland round to the next
beach, keeping close to it to keep the waters edge in sight as glassy
water in fog can be tricky and height above it is easier to judge if you
can see the shoreline.
After some taxiing, some flying, some half and half, it is quite
possible to arrive at Xxxxxxx. However, if the fog is that thick, the
airport is invariably closed. It is best to taxi the last five kilometres to
the airport boundary along the beach so the Flight Service Officers
on duty can’t hear the sound of the engine. You are required to report
if you are flying in the vicinity of the airport, but if you are taxiing
along the beach then, of course, you are not flying, but it is still best
not to bother them.
On arrival, the engine is shut down until after five o’clock in the
afternoon and the Flight Service Officers go home. After they have
gone, the weary pilot fires up the engine, takes off and hops over the
sand dune and onto the fog shrouded airstrip and puts his aircraft
back into the hangar. Just another day at the office to a working fish
spotter."
"Sometimes the wind is calm
and sky is clear, perfect conditions for fishing, sometimes the wind is
strong off the shore, good for fishing but the crosswind makes life
exciting for pilot and sometimes there is fog. The fog is the worst.
If the spotter plane flies above the fog he can’t see the fish, if he
flies in the fog he is too close to the fish and the noise of the engine
will frighten them. Luckily, on this occasion the fog has stayed away
until the fishing is completed, but getting home in the fog is the next
problem. The weather is often perfect above the fog banks but once
you are up there, unless the fog is clear at your destination, there is
nowhere to go and the pilot can easily run out of fuel and ideas at the
same time so the technique of ‘fog hopping’ was developed.
While this may sound quite suicidal, in reality it isn’t on the relatively
long beaches on the north coast of Xxxxxxxxxx. A Super Cub with
beach landing wheels and a pilot with an intimate knowledge of the
topography of the coastline can fly home quite safely if he happens
to get stranded on a fog bound beach.
To set things in motion, the aircraft is pointed in the direction
of Xxxxxxx, there being little or no wind in most fogs, and taxied
along the beach at a speed that will allow it to stop within the visible
distance. If the fog only allows a visibility of 50 metres, a speed of
about 10 kilometres per hour is enough. If the fog lifts a little, the
throttle is opened a little, the tail comes up, speed goes up to about
50 kilometres per hour, a slight further improvement in visibility and
we are airborne at 40 knots, about 80 kilometres per hour at a height
of ten feet. If visibility drops again, slow a little, wheels back on the
beach, until conditions improve, then back into the air, sometimes up
to 50 feet and 85 knots, 170 kilometres per hour, then back to sea level
as visibility gets worse.
The headlands are the only problem. It pays to know when one
will appear and if visibility is really bad, it may be necessary to stop
and wait till it improves. If visibility is reasonable, say, more than
a couple of hundred yards, follow the headland round to the next
beach, keeping close to it to keep the waters edge in sight as glassy
water in fog can be tricky and height above it is easier to judge if you
can see the shoreline.
After some taxiing, some flying, some half and half, it is quite
possible to arrive at Xxxxxxx. However, if the fog is that thick, the
airport is invariably closed. It is best to taxi the last five kilometres to
the airport boundary along the beach so the Flight Service Officers
on duty can’t hear the sound of the engine. You are required to report
if you are flying in the vicinity of the airport, but if you are taxiing
along the beach then, of course, you are not flying, but it is still best
not to bother them.
On arrival, the engine is shut down until after five o’clock in the
afternoon and the Flight Service Officers go home. After they have
gone, the weary pilot fires up the engine, takes off and hops over the
sand dune and onto the fog shrouded airstrip and puts his aircraft
back into the hangar. Just another day at the office to a working fish
spotter."