The most protracted PPL ever?........
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Nice work Kev - looking forward to the rest of the write-up!
I think Faff Mode is a critical component of the Skills Test. I'm not normally a faffy person, but I definitely entered said mode a number of times on my test too!
I don't think it's a lasting condition though. I flew last Sunday and the faff was gone
I think Faff Mode is a critical component of the Skills Test. I'm not normally a faffy person, but I definitely entered said mode a number of times on my test too!
I don't think it's a lasting condition though. I flew last Sunday and the faff was gone
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Earlier, I’d got a wind vector of 325/22 at 2,000’ but had been concerned that there was a big discrepancy with the actual wind at ground level, which was about 5 knots. Max seemed surprised too. Had the Met Office cocked up? Surely not! There was nothing I could do now, but go with it. Now, as I began to leave Staplehurst behind, I started checking map to ground, and it became pretty obvious that my TMG was going to take me closer to Bewl Water than it should. In fact, going by the rate we were heading for Bewl it was going to need a hefty change of course to re-establish track – say, ten degrees to the right. The wind must be stronger/lighter/from a different heading than I’d thought. More dodgy decisions followed. I was beginning to lose grip. and something in my brain was saying, “This is ridiculous! How could you ever have believed etc., etc..?!” I ignored it.
I ploughed on, trying not to panic. Then Max bluntly told me that there was Gatwick in out twelve o’clock and if I even thought about another right turn he would have to re-think the whole thing! I began desparately searching about for help. I turned more southerly because it seemed like a good idea and after a while a town floated into view. I checked the time and – that was right – there was the western by-pass, the southern spur. It couldn’t be. Was it? It looked smaller than I thought it would be. It was Uckfield! Max confirmed it and pointed out how Crowborough defines the western limit of uncontrolled airspace. I calmed down and took stock. I set up for my new course and knuckled down, well aware that I needed to do much better to rescue the situation.
From the start of the second leg I felt much more in command. I changed to Shoreham and listened in for a while before announcing myself. There wasn’t much action but we were going quite close to the airfield. As for the navigation, I knew that the south coast should converge gently with our course until Ford, so all I had to do was make it converge gently. And, I’m pleased and relieved to say, it did. The easy navigation tasks on this leg helped me to relax now, and i was beginning to enjoy myself. Max asked me to identify a number of towns en route and this was no problem. Twenty seven miles later I confidently took us between two dual carriageways which pointed at the airfield, looked expectantly at the far side of a large bight in the River Arun, and there it was, bang on time. Max pointed out the prison buildings and their previous RAF use.
Diversion time. I knew this was going to take us back to the training area for the general handling section, and so it was - Deanland.
Deanland is a single grass strip set half way between Eastbourne and Uckfield. It’s not easy to find, and I’m sure the parked aircraft there are only cardboard cut-outs to make it look as though other people found it. Max obligingly took control while I did the homework, then set us up after I gave him the course. Thus established I called Shoreham again to tell them we’d be flying across their northern boundary, but at 2,300’.
Now it was time for a play with the VOR, and to see whether I’d boned up on it sufficiently. Well, it just turned out to be a piece of cake. I can’t understand why I had all that trouble with it at first! The VOR work turned into a bit of a gratis tutorial, with Max going on to explain features and applications of the instrument. Then, another, “What’s that town?”, and I’m having another look – “Famous brewery there”. Ah, that’ll be Harvey’s and the town is Lewis!
I observed, that during all Max’s chat about the VOR, our TMG was a couple of miles south of where it should be, so I snook up closer to Lewis whose southern boundary was shaved by my course; explaining what I was doing all the while. “I take it there was more to your little treatise on the VOR than the benefit of my education”, I said.
“That’s right – confuse and obfusticate!”
Well, it doesn’t take much, I thought. And there, right ahead, was an airfield. To the south and east was a lake and on checking its bearing and distance I reckoned it was Deanland. Max challenged me pretty strongly on this, pointing out on the chart the gliding site nearby. I checked everything – the lake, the little cut-out aeroplanes and the timing. I thought, ‘what’s needed here is some assertion’, so I said I was positive it was Deanland. Final answer. Max nodded, gave me a smile and a metaphorical thump on the shoulder and I was beginning to think I’d put the nightmare first leg behind me and that I was in with a chance.
“Right, it’s the General Handling section”, he said. Now, I’ve read a lot about how people are pretty knackered at this point, some advocating a landing and a break, others pressing on regardless.........not me. I was just getting into my stride!
Here, I must say I was surprised that the format of the General Handling section differed from the way I’d been taught. I’d been over the tasks to a certain depth over and again; so much so I could almost give a briefing myself. Max did things differently and once I got used to that I could brace myself accordingly.
First up was slow flight. Max asked me to set it up for straight and level at 60 knots. And that was it. Fair enough, but what about at 50, then at 45 with flap? Easy peasy.
Well, no. Not easy peasy. It was just different, and I had to accomodate. Such as the stalls. I’d done the HASELL checks and was doing my clearing turns and Max asked me to carry on and make it a steep turn. Bang went my procedure for steep turns! (Note heading, check ground or sky feature, lookout, etcetera.) so I just went for it and guessed when to stop the turn. He seemed pleased enough with it. Then the clean stall itself. That went fine, then Max asked me to set up for approach configuration at 65 knots, then to have another go. HELL check, then off we go again, with me listening hard for the stall warner. This was the second stall, wherin I’d been taught to recover at the first sign of the stall, so when I recovered as the stall warner chirped Max stopped me and asked me to carry on holding back upto the full stall.
Now Max took control and asked me to shut my eyes to set about showing me the disorientating effects of flying in IMC. He put the aircraft through various manouevres and asked me to state what attitude I thought we were in. I said quite confidently that we were in a descending turn – I opened my eyes and we were flying straight and level! He repeated the exercise with similar results. I had an idea that this was working towards the spriral dive recovery, so it was no surprise that with my eyes still closed I heard the motor beginning to wind up and Max call, “Recover!”. I opened my eyes and there was a full-on spiral dive. Chop throttle, level wings – stick and rudder, pull back and wait for 70 knots to restore power to climb. Once again, different from my practised format, where the spiral dive follows two steep turns in opposite directions.
Next came the PFL. I selected a good looking field, slightly crosswind but not too upsetting and as we got lower, creeping on base, a handy bonfire confirmed the wind. I recited all the checks and Mayday call. I was at about 600’ pointing into the field on base leg which was fine, because I was heading right into wind. I left the final turn nice and late and crabbed towards the field. We were still quite high so I started a couple of steep ‘S’ turns when Max said, “That’s fine, we’ll get in there. Climb away.”
Then he got the map and told me where we were and asked me to set a course to take us back to the field. We were at 900’ and he asked me to imagine we were beneath overcast and had to maintain that height all the way back to Headcorn. On the way back he asked me what that town was. I had about three goes and they were all wrong!
So, finally back at Headcorn and circuit work. First was the flapless landing. I extended the downwind leg a good way and set up a nice, long approach. It was much flatter than normal, of course, but nice and sedate. The soggy state of the field was evident from all the muddy grooves at the threshold, and it was onto this that we gently lowered ourselves. I don’t know if the word ‘greaser’ can be applied to landing on mud but this was certainly one of my better landings. Then the mud bit and I felt the pressure of my straps before I applied power to get us up again. Up into the circuit once more for the glide approach. Max cut the throttle halfway down the downwind leg. I reduced speed to 70 knots and turned in. In fact I hugged the threshold all the way down: all the angles looking good. Onto final now (Max did the call) and time to bung on 20° flap. Lean on the column and check on the speed for 65. We were coming down quite fast now – oh sh*t, I’ve got full flap! Never mind, the speed’s good and the threshold is right under the nose – go with it. Must remember to flare earlier and firmer, but don’t balloon. The flare was bang on – a little bounce – Max was saying, “Mr. Elliott, Mr. Elliott..........that tells me more about your flying.......”
I fairly glowed. The test was over. Max taxied in and parked. We debriefed in the office and Max had a lot to say about that dreadful first leg. So much in fact, that I thought I was going to get a partial. But he dwelt on the fact that I’d pulled myself together and from then on, had actually flown ‘a good test’. I still wondered what I was going to walk away with until he held out his hand and said, “Congratulations. You’re a PPL!”.
As I drove home I could feel the sun on my back – the weather and countryside were at their very best on this December day. Down came that top.
I ploughed on, trying not to panic. Then Max bluntly told me that there was Gatwick in out twelve o’clock and if I even thought about another right turn he would have to re-think the whole thing! I began desparately searching about for help. I turned more southerly because it seemed like a good idea and after a while a town floated into view. I checked the time and – that was right – there was the western by-pass, the southern spur. It couldn’t be. Was it? It looked smaller than I thought it would be. It was Uckfield! Max confirmed it and pointed out how Crowborough defines the western limit of uncontrolled airspace. I calmed down and took stock. I set up for my new course and knuckled down, well aware that I needed to do much better to rescue the situation.
From the start of the second leg I felt much more in command. I changed to Shoreham and listened in for a while before announcing myself. There wasn’t much action but we were going quite close to the airfield. As for the navigation, I knew that the south coast should converge gently with our course until Ford, so all I had to do was make it converge gently. And, I’m pleased and relieved to say, it did. The easy navigation tasks on this leg helped me to relax now, and i was beginning to enjoy myself. Max asked me to identify a number of towns en route and this was no problem. Twenty seven miles later I confidently took us between two dual carriageways which pointed at the airfield, looked expectantly at the far side of a large bight in the River Arun, and there it was, bang on time. Max pointed out the prison buildings and their previous RAF use.
Diversion time. I knew this was going to take us back to the training area for the general handling section, and so it was - Deanland.
Deanland is a single grass strip set half way between Eastbourne and Uckfield. It’s not easy to find, and I’m sure the parked aircraft there are only cardboard cut-outs to make it look as though other people found it. Max obligingly took control while I did the homework, then set us up after I gave him the course. Thus established I called Shoreham again to tell them we’d be flying across their northern boundary, but at 2,300’.
Now it was time for a play with the VOR, and to see whether I’d boned up on it sufficiently. Well, it just turned out to be a piece of cake. I can’t understand why I had all that trouble with it at first! The VOR work turned into a bit of a gratis tutorial, with Max going on to explain features and applications of the instrument. Then, another, “What’s that town?”, and I’m having another look – “Famous brewery there”. Ah, that’ll be Harvey’s and the town is Lewis!
I observed, that during all Max’s chat about the VOR, our TMG was a couple of miles south of where it should be, so I snook up closer to Lewis whose southern boundary was shaved by my course; explaining what I was doing all the while. “I take it there was more to your little treatise on the VOR than the benefit of my education”, I said.
“That’s right – confuse and obfusticate!”
Well, it doesn’t take much, I thought. And there, right ahead, was an airfield. To the south and east was a lake and on checking its bearing and distance I reckoned it was Deanland. Max challenged me pretty strongly on this, pointing out on the chart the gliding site nearby. I checked everything – the lake, the little cut-out aeroplanes and the timing. I thought, ‘what’s needed here is some assertion’, so I said I was positive it was Deanland. Final answer. Max nodded, gave me a smile and a metaphorical thump on the shoulder and I was beginning to think I’d put the nightmare first leg behind me and that I was in with a chance.
“Right, it’s the General Handling section”, he said. Now, I’ve read a lot about how people are pretty knackered at this point, some advocating a landing and a break, others pressing on regardless.........not me. I was just getting into my stride!
Here, I must say I was surprised that the format of the General Handling section differed from the way I’d been taught. I’d been over the tasks to a certain depth over and again; so much so I could almost give a briefing myself. Max did things differently and once I got used to that I could brace myself accordingly.
First up was slow flight. Max asked me to set it up for straight and level at 60 knots. And that was it. Fair enough, but what about at 50, then at 45 with flap? Easy peasy.
Well, no. Not easy peasy. It was just different, and I had to accomodate. Such as the stalls. I’d done the HASELL checks and was doing my clearing turns and Max asked me to carry on and make it a steep turn. Bang went my procedure for steep turns! (Note heading, check ground or sky feature, lookout, etcetera.) so I just went for it and guessed when to stop the turn. He seemed pleased enough with it. Then the clean stall itself. That went fine, then Max asked me to set up for approach configuration at 65 knots, then to have another go. HELL check, then off we go again, with me listening hard for the stall warner. This was the second stall, wherin I’d been taught to recover at the first sign of the stall, so when I recovered as the stall warner chirped Max stopped me and asked me to carry on holding back upto the full stall.
Now Max took control and asked me to shut my eyes to set about showing me the disorientating effects of flying in IMC. He put the aircraft through various manouevres and asked me to state what attitude I thought we were in. I said quite confidently that we were in a descending turn – I opened my eyes and we were flying straight and level! He repeated the exercise with similar results. I had an idea that this was working towards the spriral dive recovery, so it was no surprise that with my eyes still closed I heard the motor beginning to wind up and Max call, “Recover!”. I opened my eyes and there was a full-on spiral dive. Chop throttle, level wings – stick and rudder, pull back and wait for 70 knots to restore power to climb. Once again, different from my practised format, where the spiral dive follows two steep turns in opposite directions.
Next came the PFL. I selected a good looking field, slightly crosswind but not too upsetting and as we got lower, creeping on base, a handy bonfire confirmed the wind. I recited all the checks and Mayday call. I was at about 600’ pointing into the field on base leg which was fine, because I was heading right into wind. I left the final turn nice and late and crabbed towards the field. We were still quite high so I started a couple of steep ‘S’ turns when Max said, “That’s fine, we’ll get in there. Climb away.”
Then he got the map and told me where we were and asked me to set a course to take us back to the field. We were at 900’ and he asked me to imagine we were beneath overcast and had to maintain that height all the way back to Headcorn. On the way back he asked me what that town was. I had about three goes and they were all wrong!
So, finally back at Headcorn and circuit work. First was the flapless landing. I extended the downwind leg a good way and set up a nice, long approach. It was much flatter than normal, of course, but nice and sedate. The soggy state of the field was evident from all the muddy grooves at the threshold, and it was onto this that we gently lowered ourselves. I don’t know if the word ‘greaser’ can be applied to landing on mud but this was certainly one of my better landings. Then the mud bit and I felt the pressure of my straps before I applied power to get us up again. Up into the circuit once more for the glide approach. Max cut the throttle halfway down the downwind leg. I reduced speed to 70 knots and turned in. In fact I hugged the threshold all the way down: all the angles looking good. Onto final now (Max did the call) and time to bung on 20° flap. Lean on the column and check on the speed for 65. We were coming down quite fast now – oh sh*t, I’ve got full flap! Never mind, the speed’s good and the threshold is right under the nose – go with it. Must remember to flare earlier and firmer, but don’t balloon. The flare was bang on – a little bounce – Max was saying, “Mr. Elliott, Mr. Elliott..........that tells me more about your flying.......”
I fairly glowed. The test was over. Max taxied in and parked. We debriefed in the office and Max had a lot to say about that dreadful first leg. So much in fact, that I thought I was going to get a partial. But he dwelt on the fact that I’d pulled myself together and from then on, had actually flown ‘a good test’. I still wondered what I was going to walk away with until he held out his hand and said, “Congratulations. You’re a PPL!”.
As I drove home I could feel the sun on my back – the weather and countryside were at their very best on this December day. Down came that top.
Last edited by kevmusic; 20th Dec 2009 at 21:13. Reason: Formatting and typos
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Best Flying Story Ever
Hi Kev, Just to join in the congratulations. I have been following your story for the last two years or so, but missed the big moment.
You are going to hate me for trying to top your longest ever, but I had my first non space cadet lesson in 1975, and finally managed to solo in September 2008. Have not flown since for all those reasons
. So, even if I do get my PPL in the next year, I might just get the wooden spoon for longest, oldest, student
A quick resume: first lessons on PA28. Marriage. Started business. Child.
Took it up in earnest again in early 90's. Hit by runaway steamroller, lost medical as a result. It did sting a bit. Double vision problem resolved early this century - well, it was a steamroller and it took a while to straighten things out - more lessons. Many years spent learning to land. I had to make it difficult by learning on a Tiger Moth. Reached solo standard at last so went for medical. Sent to heart specialist for more tests. Open heart surgery, no medical. CAA very supportive. Medical reissued on completion of recovery. Many more circuits to get up to standard again. Finally soloed G-AHIZ. Worth every moment.
Your posts have inspired me to keep going. And I will
You are going to hate me for trying to top your longest ever, but I had my first non space cadet lesson in 1975, and finally managed to solo in September 2008. Have not flown since for all those reasons
. So, even if I do get my PPL in the next year, I might just get the wooden spoon for longest, oldest, studentA quick resume: first lessons on PA28. Marriage. Started business. Child.
Took it up in earnest again in early 90's. Hit by runaway steamroller, lost medical as a result. It did sting a bit. Double vision problem resolved early this century - well, it was a steamroller and it took a while to straighten things out - more lessons. Many years spent learning to land. I had to make it difficult by learning on a Tiger Moth. Reached solo standard at last so went for medical. Sent to heart specialist for more tests. Open heart surgery, no medical. CAA very supportive. Medical reissued on completion of recovery. Many more circuits to get up to standard again. Finally soloed G-AHIZ. Worth every moment.
Your posts have inspired me to keep going. And I will
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Does it ever end..........?
@ CPD2, thanks for your kind comments.
That sounds like a story in itself! 
I bet you thank your lucky stars that's all you lost!
Well, the news is, I still haven't completed. Somewhere along the way, my R/T practical was overlooked, so I'm booked to do that next Thursday, the 14th, with Max, the same examiner. More burial in CAP413!!
An interesting, slightly spooky twist came up on the leg back to Headcorn. Way, way back, in 1982, when Dad's business had gone bust and I'd had to put away my flying stuff for the infefinite future (for the first time), an event occured that stuck in my memory. One early evening, Dad called me urgently to the back door. I looked up just in time to see a very low Tiger Moth passing right over our house and lurching off to the north-east. The cloudbase was overcast at just a few hundred feet, and the Tiger was clearly in trouble.
Later, the local evening news reported a light aircraft having come down in a field near Sunderland Airport. I drove to the location and and found the Tiger, in the corner of the field, tipped into its nose. That was it, really, but quite a dramatic event to occur when one is so recently smitten with the flying bug.
Fasty forward 27 years later to the last leg of my Skills Test, and, as I 've mentioned, we flew back under an imaginary low cloudbase. the circumstances prompted me to relate the Tiger Moth story to Max as we flew.
"What year did you say that was"?
"1982".
"In Sunderland"?
"Yep".
Brief silence. Then Max said, "I'm a friend of the guy that did that and six weeks ago he was telling me about it".
Talk about flabbergasted! When we got got back he phoned the pilot and confirmed it. I thought that was an incredible way of bringing the story full circle. An event that was there from the beginning of my flying career that popped up again right at the end of my training.
Hit by runaway steamroller, lost medical as a result.
I bet you thank your lucky stars that's all you lost!Well, the news is, I still haven't completed. Somewhere along the way, my R/T practical was overlooked, so I'm booked to do that next Thursday, the 14th, with Max, the same examiner. More burial in CAP413!!
An interesting, slightly spooky twist came up on the leg back to Headcorn. Way, way back, in 1982, when Dad's business had gone bust and I'd had to put away my flying stuff for the infefinite future (for the first time), an event occured that stuck in my memory. One early evening, Dad called me urgently to the back door. I looked up just in time to see a very low Tiger Moth passing right over our house and lurching off to the north-east. The cloudbase was overcast at just a few hundred feet, and the Tiger was clearly in trouble.
Later, the local evening news reported a light aircraft having come down in a field near Sunderland Airport. I drove to the location and and found the Tiger, in the corner of the field, tipped into its nose. That was it, really, but quite a dramatic event to occur when one is so recently smitten with the flying bug.
Fasty forward 27 years later to the last leg of my Skills Test, and, as I 've mentioned, we flew back under an imaginary low cloudbase. the circumstances prompted me to relate the Tiger Moth story to Max as we flew.
"What year did you say that was"?
"1982".
"In Sunderland"?
"Yep".
Brief silence. Then Max said, "I'm a friend of the guy that did that and six weeks ago he was telling me about it".
Talk about flabbergasted! When we got got back he phoned the pilot and confirmed it. I thought that was an incredible way of bringing the story full circle. An event that was there from the beginning of my flying career that popped up again right at the end of my training.
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I was not looking forward to the R/T practical. I somehow couldn't focus on it: CAP 413 was just too boring and there was nothing on the net......
The night before the test I dug into my bag and unearthed two CDs that Max had given me a year or so ago. It was a commercial recording of R/T practices made by a professional-sounding guy doing the narrative and all the 'calls'. It was much more immediate and 'real' than CAP 413, albeit rather old-fashioned. I listened to segments of both CDs, fast-forwarding a lot.
I needn't have worried. Max gave a thorough briefing, which was basically a rehearsal of the route, interspersed with some of his many 'war stories'. Then we were off and it all went really smoothly - I could almost say I enjoyed it!
Anyway, I passed.
So that was it! All hoops duly jumped. Last week saw yet more delay, this time over certifying copies of my passport - eventually I just decided to send off the original - the hell with it. So off it all went Special Delivery, yesterday; and I hope to get my licence by, say, the end of the week in two weeks - around the 5th of Feb.
Meanwhile, I'm wondering whether to get a bit of dual top-up before I set off in this brave new world. I've still only had three flights since last August............
The night before the test I dug into my bag and unearthed two CDs that Max had given me a year or so ago. It was a commercial recording of R/T practices made by a professional-sounding guy doing the narrative and all the 'calls'. It was much more immediate and 'real' than CAP 413, albeit rather old-fashioned. I listened to segments of both CDs, fast-forwarding a lot.
I needn't have worried. Max gave a thorough briefing, which was basically a rehearsal of the route, interspersed with some of his many 'war stories'. Then we were off and it all went really smoothly - I could almost say I enjoyed it!
Anyway, I passed.So that was it! All hoops duly jumped. Last week saw yet more delay, this time over certifying copies of my passport - eventually I just decided to send off the original - the hell with it. So off it all went Special Delivery, yesterday; and I hope to get my licence by, say, the end of the week in two weeks - around the 5th of Feb.
Meanwhile, I'm wondering whether to get a bit of dual top-up before I set off in this brave new world. I've still only had three flights since last August............
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Red letter day
Yesterday, the famous poo-brown wallet arrived. I can't believe that it's finally happened! I'm still walking on air.
Still can't get into the air, though. I tried to get some dual last Thursday but the weather stopped that, so hopefully, next Thursday?......
Still can't get into the air, though. I tried to get some dual last Thursday but the weather stopped that, so hopefully, next Thursday?......
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First flight after skills test...
...was a dual, as predicted. Well, it had been two months, or so. Bruce phoned from his home to say that he was going to be delayed by snow but it was dry and clear in the Medway towns, so off I went. The forecast had given 'significant' snowfalls for east Kent. Hmmm. And the Met had given a northerly wind of some 25 kts at 1,000 feet. More hmmm. At least the wind would be down the unlicensed 'short' runway, 03, and as this was not to be a training flight I could use it for the first time.
I decided to take the less pretty main road route through Maidstone to Headcorn, and as I got past south-east Maidstone, the snow started to get 'significant'. By the North Downs, at Sutton Valence it was really starting to mean it, and by Headcorn it had downright attitude! The depth increased from about 4 to 6 inches while I waited for Bruce. Thanks to the wind no snow appeared to be accumulating on the aircraft.
No-one else had turned up to fly, but on the other hand, no-one had closed the runways - we could potentially fly! At this point let me emphasise that this was not a decision I felt able to make, other than that I would probably have scrubbed long before this point. I have total trust in Bruce's judgement - his attitude and professionalism have kept him safe over forty years of flying and I've always thought that if you do things his way you can't go far wrong. So when Bruce said he would go and check the runways, I said, "I'll go and DI the aircraft". And with collars turned up against the blizzard, we sallied forth.
The aircraft I'd booked was the only Cessna 150 availble - the Aerobat (a new engine meant we couldn't do aerobatics, though) - and I brushed off snow wherever I could find it. The airframe was mostly clear but quite a lot had accumulated behind the leading edges of the ailerons and this needed removing with care: those ailerons are very good finger-shears in a strong and gusty wind!
Bruce took his trusty Blackberry with him, and here is 29/11:
Open for business! We started up early in the sequence a) to warm up and b) to get moving before the next snow shower came through (it had stopped by now). Taxying fast over the snow we arrived at 03's threshold for a short-field take-off. The upwind boundary fence looked alarmingly close but the strong wind and 'IE's new engine got us into the air in half the length.
We levelled off at 2,300' and headed north-west, and it immediately became apparent how marked the snow boundary between east and west Kent really was.
Here, Bruce tried me with a couple of steep turns. They were not as neat as I would have liked, but were apparently passable. Then we bimbled about sightseeing for a while before heading back to the airfield.
It would have been impractical to practise circuits on 03 (too small) so we did them on 11. This was interesting because it made square circuit-keeping a challenging exercise in geometry! I don't think I've flown in such a strong wind before. We did two circuits, one normal and one flapless. The first time I finished downwind I knew base leg was going to be quick (with the wind behind us) but I didn't realise how quick, and I overshot. It seemed to take ages to claw my way back to the extended centre line. Bruce asked me not to touch down, so we floated down the runway, more or less on track, with left wing down and opposite rudder, then we climbed away.
The next circuit was flapless and I managed the final turn a little better.
Flapless approach to 11. The crosswind from the left was 25 knots at 1,000'.
This time Bruce asked me to gently touch on the left mainwheel. We actually touched on both, despite me being convinced I still had left wing down! Never mind, we were still on the runway and that was what counted. This time we had to climb out to 500' then turn right to be downwind on 03 for a full stop. 03 is 312 metres and I knew we'd be using the wind strength and the snow to bring us in to a stop.
"This will be a performance landing", said Bruce, "So we'll be taking full flap. Turn in any time you like". And so followed one of the most fun landings of my life.
There was no base leg to speak of. We were at quite a high angle to the threshold so I took full flap and reduced to 60 mph. I noticed that there were trees all the way up to the threshold. We came down steeply, but steadily. "Keep the nose down, we use throttle to control speed". Now there's an interesting snippet of new information at this stage! This was high workload but I was loving every minute. We cleared the trees comfortably, but I could see every detail of that boundary fence.....then the mains settled on the snow. It grabbed us like the arrester wires on the Ark Royal, and we trundled sedately off the runway without even having to backtrack. Landing on a short runway? - easy peasy in a strong headwind on snow.........and with an experienced instructor!
Final approach to 03. The runway is central. The theshold is obscured by the middle propeller stripe and the upwind boundary is just above it.
I decided to take the less pretty main road route through Maidstone to Headcorn, and as I got past south-east Maidstone, the snow started to get 'significant'. By the North Downs, at Sutton Valence it was really starting to mean it, and by Headcorn it had downright attitude! The depth increased from about 4 to 6 inches while I waited for Bruce. Thanks to the wind no snow appeared to be accumulating on the aircraft.
No-one else had turned up to fly, but on the other hand, no-one had closed the runways - we could potentially fly! At this point let me emphasise that this was not a decision I felt able to make, other than that I would probably have scrubbed long before this point. I have total trust in Bruce's judgement - his attitude and professionalism have kept him safe over forty years of flying and I've always thought that if you do things his way you can't go far wrong. So when Bruce said he would go and check the runways, I said, "I'll go and DI the aircraft". And with collars turned up against the blizzard, we sallied forth.
The aircraft I'd booked was the only Cessna 150 availble - the Aerobat (a new engine meant we couldn't do aerobatics, though) - and I brushed off snow wherever I could find it. The airframe was mostly clear but quite a lot had accumulated behind the leading edges of the ailerons and this needed removing with care: those ailerons are very good finger-shears in a strong and gusty wind!
Bruce took his trusty Blackberry with him, and here is 29/11:
Open for business! We started up early in the sequence a) to warm up and b) to get moving before the next snow shower came through (it had stopped by now). Taxying fast over the snow we arrived at 03's threshold for a short-field take-off. The upwind boundary fence looked alarmingly close but the strong wind and 'IE's new engine got us into the air in half the length.
We levelled off at 2,300' and headed north-west, and it immediately became apparent how marked the snow boundary between east and west Kent really was.
Here, Bruce tried me with a couple of steep turns. They were not as neat as I would have liked, but were apparently passable. Then we bimbled about sightseeing for a while before heading back to the airfield.
It would have been impractical to practise circuits on 03 (too small) so we did them on 11. This was interesting because it made square circuit-keeping a challenging exercise in geometry! I don't think I've flown in such a strong wind before. We did two circuits, one normal and one flapless. The first time I finished downwind I knew base leg was going to be quick (with the wind behind us) but I didn't realise how quick, and I overshot. It seemed to take ages to claw my way back to the extended centre line. Bruce asked me not to touch down, so we floated down the runway, more or less on track, with left wing down and opposite rudder, then we climbed away.
The next circuit was flapless and I managed the final turn a little better.
Flapless approach to 11. The crosswind from the left was 25 knots at 1,000'.
This time Bruce asked me to gently touch on the left mainwheel. We actually touched on both, despite me being convinced I still had left wing down! Never mind, we were still on the runway and that was what counted. This time we had to climb out to 500' then turn right to be downwind on 03 for a full stop. 03 is 312 metres and I knew we'd be using the wind strength and the snow to bring us in to a stop.
"This will be a performance landing", said Bruce, "So we'll be taking full flap. Turn in any time you like". And so followed one of the most fun landings of my life.
There was no base leg to speak of. We were at quite a high angle to the threshold so I took full flap and reduced to 60 mph. I noticed that there were trees all the way up to the threshold. We came down steeply, but steadily. "Keep the nose down, we use throttle to control speed". Now there's an interesting snippet of new information at this stage! This was high workload but I was loving every minute. We cleared the trees comfortably, but I could see every detail of that boundary fence.....then the mains settled on the snow. It grabbed us like the arrester wires on the Ark Royal, and we trundled sedately off the runway without even having to backtrack. Landing on a short runway? - easy peasy in a strong headwind on snow.........and with an experienced instructor!
Final approach to 03. The runway is central. The theshold is obscured by the middle propeller stripe and the upwind boundary is just above it.
Last edited by kevmusic; 14th Feb 2010 at 23:10. Reason: to say, thanks to Bruce for letting me use his photos.
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Quick update.
I've managed some flying, but with just the one day a week available to do anything not connected with work, then Mrs. Km's birthday and a trip to the doctor's can be added to the list of flying no-gos, alongside the usual culprits. My plan was to convert to a 4-seater initially, but a long, hard look at my rapidly-dwindling flying fund (any other musos finding the gigs hard to come by?) prompted me to take the quickest possible route to the Tiger Club's Turbs. These give you £65/hr all-in flying, if you like open-cockpit taildraggers - which I do! However, to fly the Turbs, the Tiger Club likes you to graduate by way of the Tiger Moth. What a bummer! Oh well, time to grasp the nettle! 
Here, I must confess a touch of naivety. I fondly believed the conversion process would invovle a couple of check flights to get you used to the beast. Not a bit of it! There's a whole syllabus to cover, from general handling to navigation. The club sends you up with a "check pilot", who's an instructor in all but name. Mine's a serving RAF instructor, a thouroughly professional guy he is too. We did the upper air work okay and now we're onto circuits.
Now I found the Tiger a pussycat in the air. Light and positive on the controls, though you do have to keep an eye on the slip needle which doesn't always work as expected. For instance, who'd have thought you'd need top rudder in a left-hand climbing turn? Well, in G-ADGT you do! But the day we got onto circuits was a different matter. There was a light northerly crosswind of about 5 knots, and I was all over the place. All over the place on take off, all over the place on landing. I don't think I've had the instructor take over this much for twenty years! Quite a humbling experience, let me tell you. A skittish filly in a crosswind, is the Tiger. More of the same on Thursday.
Last Thursday I thought I needed to do something for myself. I've gone straight onto the Tiger and one way or another I've had the right hand (or front) seat occupied by instructors, examiners and check pilots for the last eighteen months! Since my test I've never sogned out and flown an aircraft all by myself so I thought I'd do just that. I planned a route following the North Kent coast to Sandwich, giving Manston a call, routing down to Dover and so back to Headcorn. 'YL is tech so I used the loaned 152 and had a ball. Weather was clear, the cloudbase drove me lower as I went east, Manston Radar didn't answer my calls (
) the thermals played me up, she flew left wing down and hadn't got as much grunt as 'YL but I had a super time and took loads of piccies.
Next Thursday - back to the Tiger!
I've managed some flying, but with just the one day a week available to do anything not connected with work, then Mrs. Km's birthday and a trip to the doctor's can be added to the list of flying no-gos, alongside the usual culprits. My plan was to convert to a 4-seater initially, but a long, hard look at my rapidly-dwindling flying fund (any other musos finding the gigs hard to come by?
) prompted me to take the quickest possible route to the Tiger Club's Turbs. These give you £65/hr all-in flying, if you like open-cockpit taildraggers - which I do! However, to fly the Turbs, the Tiger Club likes you to graduate by way of the Tiger Moth. What a bummer! Oh well, time to grasp the nettle! Here, I must confess a touch of naivety. I fondly believed the conversion process would invovle a couple of check flights to get you used to the beast. Not a bit of it! There's a whole syllabus to cover, from general handling to navigation. The club sends you up with a "check pilot", who's an instructor in all but name. Mine's a serving RAF instructor, a thouroughly professional guy he is too. We did the upper air work okay and now we're onto circuits.
Now I found the Tiger a pussycat in the air. Light and positive on the controls, though you do have to keep an eye on the slip needle which doesn't always work as expected. For instance, who'd have thought you'd need top rudder in a left-hand climbing turn? Well, in G-ADGT you do! But the day we got onto circuits was a different matter. There was a light northerly crosswind of about 5 knots, and I was all over the place. All over the place on take off, all over the place on landing. I don't think I've had the instructor take over this much for twenty years! Quite a humbling experience, let me tell you. A skittish filly in a crosswind, is the Tiger. More of the same on Thursday.
Last Thursday I thought I needed to do something for myself. I've gone straight onto the Tiger and one way or another I've had the right hand (or front) seat occupied by instructors, examiners and check pilots for the last eighteen months! Since my test I've never sogned out and flown an aircraft all by myself so I thought I'd do just that. I planned a route following the North Kent coast to Sandwich, giving Manston a call, routing down to Dover and so back to Headcorn. 'YL is tech so I used the loaned 152 and had a ball. Weather was clear, the cloudbase drove me lower as I went east, Manston Radar didn't answer my calls (
) the thermals played me up, she flew left wing down and hadn't got as much grunt as 'YL but I had a super time and took loads of piccies.Next Thursday - back to the Tiger!
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If this is your first taste of taildaraggers then your experience is spot on and quite normal.
They feel totally uncontrollable for a time,then it all clicks and you realise you don't need all those large inputs,just lots of small ones.
But there is no quick and easy way,but when you have cracked it,you'll think.
"What was all the fuss about?"
Happy flying,I found the Cub much sweeter to fly than the Tiger Moth.
Lister
They feel totally uncontrollable for a time,then it all clicks and you realise you don't need all those large inputs,just lots of small ones.
But there is no quick and easy way,but when you have cracked it,you'll think.
"What was all the fuss about?"
Happy flying,I found the Cub much sweeter to fly than the Tiger Moth.
Lister
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Oppurtunities to fly have been really bad this summer, mainly due to the constant crosswinds over 11/29 which were right outside the Tiger's limits. Owing to the loss of G-ADGT the club are now really picky on the conditions in which it will allow its one remaing Tiger, and the world's most significant (G-ACDC), to be flown.
Nevertheless, I got onto roller landings with the club chairman as check pilot. My first circuit was rubbish but the landing was ok; thereafter I managed proper circuits with a succession of pretty decent roller landings. Next step (a month later
) was more of the same, this time with the club secretary. Afterwards, he began talking about the Jodel (Jodel D150 Mascaret) which, in layout, was most similar to the Turb.
My next session, therefore, was on the Jodel, a type I'd already spent some hours on during a previous spurt of training in '03. As we taxied out it all felt pretty familiar, but after we'd taken off he wanted me to do one or two things differently, such as keeping the speed (downwind) in the white arc and not reducing speed and selecting flap as soon as I turned base. Well, I got high. So high, in fact, that I set up an approach that I couldn't possibly land from (without using every trick in the book), so I did the decent thing and went around. Quite a humiliating moment, and another kev-session that starts with utter crap - and then it all comes good.
As this one did. I then managed to pull off a series of pretty three-points which replaced the "what-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do-with-this-one" look with satisfied nods.
"Well, how do you fancy a go on the Turb?" Those magic words. Finally.
I concentrated very hard to the briefing - it was to be my first solo in a single-seater! - and expected to be limited to a circiuit or two. But when I was told not be longer than 45' I knew I had the green light for a mini-bimble.
So I took off (the Turb has real acceleration on the runway!) headed to 3'000 over Romney Marsh and had a play. It was fantastic.
So now I'm there. I can take up a Turb for £65/hour or be a bit more lavish and fly the Jodel, or perhaps the Cub, or take up one of Weald Aviation's Cessnas if I want. All that dreaming for nearly thirty years has borne fruit. And real life is much better!
Nevertheless, I got onto roller landings with the club chairman as check pilot. My first circuit was rubbish but the landing was ok; thereafter I managed proper circuits with a succession of pretty decent roller landings. Next step (a month later
) was more of the same, this time with the club secretary. Afterwards, he began talking about the Jodel (Jodel D150 Mascaret) which, in layout, was most similar to the Turb.My next session, therefore, was on the Jodel, a type I'd already spent some hours on during a previous spurt of training in '03. As we taxied out it all felt pretty familiar, but after we'd taken off he wanted me to do one or two things differently, such as keeping the speed (downwind) in the white arc and not reducing speed and selecting flap as soon as I turned base. Well, I got high. So high, in fact, that I set up an approach that I couldn't possibly land from (without using every trick in the book), so I did the decent thing and went around. Quite a humiliating moment, and another kev-session that starts with utter crap - and then it all comes good.
As this one did. I then managed to pull off a series of pretty three-points which replaced the "what-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do-with-this-one" look with satisfied nods.
"Well, how do you fancy a go on the Turb?" Those magic words. Finally.
I concentrated very hard to the briefing - it was to be my first solo in a single-seater! - and expected to be limited to a circiuit or two. But when I was told not be longer than 45' I knew I had the green light for a mini-bimble.
So I took off (the Turb has real acceleration on the runway!) headed to 3'000 over Romney Marsh and had a play. It was fantastic.
So now I'm there. I can take up a Turb for £65/hour or be a bit more lavish and fly the Jodel, or perhaps the Cub, or take up one of Weald Aviation's Cessnas if I want. All that dreaming for nearly thirty years has borne fruit. And real life is much better!
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Well done Kev.
Congratulations on making the grade. I am struggling along trying to get there too. I had my first trial introductory flight 32 years ago. I have been to 4 schools, flown 5 different types of aircraft, had something like 16 different flying instructors (plenty more ground school instructors) clocked up over 100 hours of flying training and I seem to be going backwards. I passed my GFPT many years ago but am not currently considered ready for solo exercises in the training area. It is very depressing and embarrassing but I am going to continue and complete the training.
I really enjoy flying so I'm going to press on. I just wish that I did not the 'distinction' of having one of the most protracted PPL courses ever.
Congratulations on making the grade. I am struggling along trying to get there too. I had my first trial introductory flight 32 years ago. I have been to 4 schools, flown 5 different types of aircraft, had something like 16 different flying instructors (plenty more ground school instructors) clocked up over 100 hours of flying training and I seem to be going backwards. I passed my GFPT many years ago but am not currently considered ready for solo exercises in the training area. It is very depressing and embarrassing but I am going to continue and complete the training.
I really enjoy flying so I'm going to press on. I just wish that I did not the 'distinction' of having one of the most protracted PPL courses ever.
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Long X Country
Learned to fly at Wolverhampton in the 60,s. and it was time for 3 leg solo X country. January 4th 1967, Auster J1N , G-AHST. Its bitterly cold, grey, overcast. The Auster has no radio,no heater,vis can only be described as adequate. The briefing was only.."Dont hang around its going to snow later" Anyone remembering John Standen will understand!
Got a prop swing at 10am and set off for Sywell. The large compass on the floor and a stopwatch miraculously took me 55minutes later to Sywell. Friendly staff signed my log,gave me hot coffee and at 1130 I set off for Leicester East. Made a turn round the field and when overhead set course for 25 min leg.
At this point things started to deteriorate. The horizon was no longer there and I had to descend to 1500ft to remain clear of cloud.The plastic side window kept vibrating open as the wedge had fallen out,the cold got worse. 10minutes into the flight I became aware that it was starting to snow.
The vis got even poorer and I noticed that the ground was becoming snow covered. I really did not know what to do other than carry on and hope! I had 34 hours total time in my log book. I had only landed once before on a paved runway and found the Auster a bit of a handfull.
I realised that not only did I have to find the field but would have to locate the right runway in the snow. Suddenly at the right time the large hangers slid past my wing and I was coming overhead the airfield. Problem was the T was not visible in the snow. Managed to position just to the west of the field and started down. Could just make out the smooth runway from the grass and made an arrival.
It could not be called a landing as I managed to slide off the strip on to the grass where I came to a stop. I sat for a while until the shakes subsided at which point a jeep arrived with the CFI and helped get The Auster to the parking. I recall asking the CFI if he would sign my log and I would wait for the snow to stop. His words can not be repeated . He obviously wondered why ANYONE would be airborne and doing qualifying X country in that weather.
After thawing out they telephoned W.ton and explained that I would be returning on the train! Oh the ignomy. I was wearing my ex RAF flight suit complete with wings and P.O.s bars.and I recall some wag on the train asking if I had" lost my plane mate"
Two days later the club rang me and asked if I would please go and fetch their Auster to complete my task.
Thinking about it over the years I guess I was lucky, I got my licence and flew for another 30 years !
Got a prop swing at 10am and set off for Sywell. The large compass on the floor and a stopwatch miraculously took me 55minutes later to Sywell. Friendly staff signed my log,gave me hot coffee and at 1130 I set off for Leicester East. Made a turn round the field and when overhead set course for 25 min leg.
At this point things started to deteriorate. The horizon was no longer there and I had to descend to 1500ft to remain clear of cloud.The plastic side window kept vibrating open as the wedge had fallen out,the cold got worse. 10minutes into the flight I became aware that it was starting to snow.
The vis got even poorer and I noticed that the ground was becoming snow covered. I really did not know what to do other than carry on and hope! I had 34 hours total time in my log book. I had only landed once before on a paved runway and found the Auster a bit of a handfull.
I realised that not only did I have to find the field but would have to locate the right runway in the snow. Suddenly at the right time the large hangers slid past my wing and I was coming overhead the airfield. Problem was the T was not visible in the snow. Managed to position just to the west of the field and started down. Could just make out the smooth runway from the grass and made an arrival.
It could not be called a landing as I managed to slide off the strip on to the grass where I came to a stop. I sat for a while until the shakes subsided at which point a jeep arrived with the CFI and helped get The Auster to the parking. I recall asking the CFI if he would sign my log and I would wait for the snow to stop. His words can not be repeated . He obviously wondered why ANYONE would be airborne and doing qualifying X country in that weather.
After thawing out they telephoned W.ton and explained that I would be returning on the train! Oh the ignomy. I was wearing my ex RAF flight suit complete with wings and P.O.s bars.and I recall some wag on the train asking if I had" lost my plane mate"
Two days later the club rang me and asked if I would please go and fetch their Auster to complete my task.
Thinking about it over the years I guess I was lucky, I got my licence and flew for another 30 years !
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A sad announcement to you, my 'virtual' flying friends
You guys have been with me through the roller coaster ride of my pilot's progress, and have seen the slings and arrows I've had to face along the way. So I feel this thread is the proper place to announce the news that my darling wife and partner of 25 years passed away a month ago.
Never remotely interested in flying herself, she nonetheless knew my passion, and once the kids were packed off to uni. she came up with the plan to finance the dream. She shared all my joy and upsets, we had a little celebration when I got my licence and even videoed me opening the package from the CAA.
She had been ill and disabled for many years, and twice before had been rushed to hospital with the pneumonia that eventually killed her, but carried on teaching and going out shopping and dog-walking to within a few days of the end. A remarkable and strong lady. I don't think I would normally come on PPRuNe to make an announcement of this sort, but she's been so bound up with my story here that I feel I should.
I won't be flying for a little while, of course, but I might wander down to the Tiger Club in the next couple of weeks, just to lend a hand on the ground.
Never remotely interested in flying herself, she nonetheless knew my passion, and once the kids were packed off to uni. she came up with the plan to finance the dream. She shared all my joy and upsets, we had a little celebration when I got my licence and even videoed me opening the package from the CAA.
She had been ill and disabled for many years, and twice before had been rushed to hospital with the pneumonia that eventually killed her, but carried on teaching and going out shopping and dog-walking to within a few days of the end. A remarkable and strong lady. I don't think I would normally come on PPRuNe to make an announcement of this sort, but she's been so bound up with my story here that I feel I should.
I won't be flying for a little while, of course, but I might wander down to the Tiger Club in the next couple of weeks, just to lend a hand on the ground.
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Kev,
as I said in a PM to you last week when you informed me of your tragically sad news:- let's aim for your Pitts trip this summer and if it happens in Norfolk, I'm sure that we can arrange to have a pint or two of Adnams in The Bell with Lister!
Just be warned that Lister is not accustomed to quaffing ale in a pub he can walk to!
as I said in a PM to you last week when you informed me of your tragically sad news:- let's aim for your Pitts trip this summer and if it happens in Norfolk, I'm sure that we can arrange to have a pint or two of Adnams in The Bell with Lister!
Just be warned that Lister is not accustomed to quaffing ale in a pub he can walk to!