Prologue
Chapter 1: First Solo
The instructor opened the door as the Cessna C172M came to a halt on the taxiway, and the noisy burbling sound of the Lycoming Textron engine got even louder. Terrance listened through the consistent rumbling of the engine to the instructor. “OK Terry” the instructor said through the intercom, sounding strangely modulated through Terry’s speakers (Everyone he knew, knew him as Terry instead of Terrance) “I’m going to pull my plug now, but remember you know what to do, you’ve passed the tests so far fine, and your pretty much ready, you feeling confident?”
Terrance nodded, feeling eager to get back into the air, sans instructor. The instructor he was with today was the chief instructor of the flying school at the small general aviation airport in Seattle. He’d seen him at the desk and giving lessons to the guys going for their Command Instrument ratings, but it was the first time he himself had flown with him. It was standard procedure to make new pilots fly with a different, and senior, instructor than their usual instructor for practical test flights.
The instructor did a quick pre-takeoff check. “Breaks on Terry?” he asked. “Yup” Terry replied. The instructor then pushed the throttle a touch forward bringing the revs up to about 1500rpm, he quickly opened up the Carburetor heating system, and closed it, “Go Magneto’s right only” the instructor curtly instructed. Terrance clicked the key from the “both” position to “Right” and the engine’s sound changed somewhat, the tachometer reading 1450rpm. No sooner had the engine stabilized at the lower reading than the Instructor requested that Terrance change to left only magneto systems. Terrance switched the key-locked magneto switch back to “Both” momentarily before positioning it on “left”. The engine regained the full 1500 revs, but then slowed back to the 1450 again. It wasn’t a moment later that the instructor asked Terrance to return the magneto switch to both again. Moments later the increased noise of the engine, released, both it’s pitch and volume descending quickly to stabilize out again at a low rumble, still quite loud, but seemingly soft after the higher revs of the magneto check. Terrance couldn’t help thinking that they had only done such a check, albeit a more thorough one, only twenty minutes earlier before the First solo practical test.
The instructor gave one last speech over the intercom before unplugging his headset. “Ok, so as you remember, it’s a standard circuit pattern, only once around unless there’s a go around. Full stop to this runway, and remember to vacate to this side, I don’t want to walk back to the hangars. Just do everything like you did it the last three times and it should be all good!” and with that he popped out of the aircraft, turning back to close the door. The door, as usual with the C172, took a few attempts to close. Terrance, still with both feet on the breaks, leant over to push the locking handle up to retract the locking bolt further so that it wouldn’t contact the doorframe preventing the door from closing. The instructor gave it one last good shove, and Terrance pushed the handle into the closed and locked position. The Instructor double checked with a hefty tug on the door, and, when it remained stuck fast as it should be, he looked up and backed away, giving a thumbs up on both hands as he headed obliquely away from the aircraft toward it’s tail and toward the bench on the side of the taxiway.
The fuzzy feeling of elation set in as Terence looked forward again, seeing the clear taxiway, the Air Traffic Control tower ahead, and realizing that, for the first time, He was alone in the aircraft. Grinning to himself he took the throttle in his hand, increasing the power to just under 1200 rpm until the aircraft began to slowly trundle along the taxiway.
Adjusting the power Terrance prepared in his head the radio call to tower, wanting to make a good impression. He glanced past the perimeter fence to the small car park on the edge of the runway, noting his parents and girlfriend standing around his parent’s car, tell tale sign the radio scanner aerial in his Fathers hands. He was determined to make this solo the best circuit he had ever done.
Relaxing his grip on the control yoke for a little moment as he changed the frequency from the Ground controller, 119.95 to the Tower controller on 126.25mhz, he let the weight of the elevator push the control yoke away from him for a moment as he pushed his left foot down in a very gentle manner to turn the aircraft toward the runway 11 Left. There was one aircraft on finals and so he waited a few seconds in silence, as he slowed the aircraft down on the wheel breaks. The engine sounded almost relaxed, as the aircraft came to a lazy stop on the taxiway.
The radio sprouted to life with the firm voice in the tower clearing the aircraft on final for Touch and go. Terrance noted that the voice was a new one, different to the voice that had been present throughout his flight with the Instructor in tow, a slightly higher tone. He seemed to speak faster also. Once the incoming aircraft acknowledged his clearance, Terrance keyed the radio with the yoke-mounted transmit button and spoke. “Tower, this is Cessna two two eight alpha charlie for entry into the pattern, holding short runway one one left with echo.”
Terrance almost forgot to call the last piece of the call “with Echo” signifying that he had the weather information signified as echo by the automatic terminal information system of the airfield. They had checked it just before takeoff the first time and then just before the Instructor exited the aircraft, noting no change. Each time the weather information changed, the letter that designated the information would cycle up one, so that if a pilot checked in with, say, information Delta, but Echo was current, then the Controller would know to read the weather report to him, or tell him the items that had changed from when Delta was current.
There was a short silence before the controller came back with the reply instruction. “Roger, two eight alpha charlie Hold short runway one one left, traffic is a Cessna on finals”. Terrance replied concisely, feeling happy and elated. “Two eight alpha charlie holding short one one left”. In the next few seconds he became aware of the noise of the engine again, It was almost unconsciously like the engine sound was somehow reduced during his conversation with the tower, of course this was not so. The Lycoming simply continued burbling away, it was just in his concentration that the sound of the engine had seemed to fade into the distance.
Terrance took a last look over the instrument panel, making sure all was normal with the aircraft, and then sat back to watch the Cessna complete it’s touchdown.
The inbound aircraft touched down a few yards into the runway, the main gear struts just bouncing noticeably. The flare was a bit flat, and it seemed to have gotten a slight gust of wind on final. As the aircraft sped along the runway, cleaning up it’s flap, the controller spoke again over the radio frequency, the voice sounding almost electronic.
“Two Eight Alpha Charlie, Runway One One Left, line up and wait”
Terrance pushed the throttle a little way forward and the engine increased in pitch, sounding almost cautiously excited.
“Line up and wait runway One One Left Eight Alpha Charlie” replied Terrance through the keyed mike, appending his own callsign as the controller before had done, reducing it to a three alpha numeral callsign, hoping that the controller might follow suit as the last one did. It was a common practice to append callsigns if no confusion would result from it. And as there was no other “Eight Alpha Charlie” in the circuit, or indeed, on this frequency at all, the last controller had been using the appended version.
As the Cessna made it’s way around the corner to line up with the runway centerline, Terrance brought the throttle back to idle again to slow down and begin a little braking. Terrance looked up the runway to line himself up with the centerline and noted the Cessna was again airborne, the majority of it’s top, rear surface visible, and the rear windows reflecting the glare of the sun. The aircraft in front was almost purely white, and it’s glare was considerable, making Terrance wince a little as he squinted out the glare. The engine, again at it’s idling constant sound, burbling with a consistency of, perhaps, auditory breakfast cereal, now took on a little more of an edgy character. Terrance felt his heart beating just a little faster, waiting for the inevitable takeoff clearance, like a racing car driver waiting for the start of the race, or an Astronaut waiting for the countdown to cycle through zero and send them hurtling toward the moon. Terrance smiled at the prospect, though with a little sadness. It was still a recent memory the loss of the valiant crew of Challenger, and the feeling, indeed memory was still haunting. He pushed the feeling aside and recomposed himself in a moment. He still had a latent grin on his face, and used that to remind him of what was happening. Here he was, in a Cessna C172, sitting on the runway, seconds away from taking the aircraft up into the air with no-one on board but himself.
As the aircraft in front gained more and more height, the tower controller finally came over the radio to release the bundle of exuberance into the air. In the always under-stated voice of generic Air traffic controllers everywhere, Payne tower released Terrance and his charge to the sky.
“Cessna Two Eight Alpha Charlie runway one one left cleared for takeoff.”
Terrance replied back “One One Left cleared for takeoff Two Eight Alpha Charlie”. Slightly disappointed that the controller had not taken his lead to append the callsign, but happy that the wait to be let loose was finally over.
The engine responded wonderfully as he opened the throttle, smoothly, all the way open. The Engine transformed from a deep soulful growl to an all encompassing, ear covering roar. The rush of adrenaline and excitement being further stimulated by acceleration forces and the sudden feeling of being in control of something, absolutely marvelous and powerful. Terrance held the yoke a little more taught, keeping the elevator somewhere near where he felt the neutral position would be.
“Airspeed active, taco 2300 steady, and instruments green” said Terrance to no-one in particular as he went through the monitoring process of the takeoff. At this point the aircraft could be still bought to a standstill only halfway down the runway should it be required. As the airspeed climbed further toward the takeoff speed, the air started pushing the elevator to it’s neutral position, just slightly further toward him. The aircraft’s nose began to feel like it was trying to pull itself up, so Terrance held some downward force on the elevator. The trim was slightly off, the aircraft simply wanted to get airborne. “Fifty five knots” Terrance spoke, louder, almost as a secret language to the aircraft itself that it would now be allowed to become airborne. Terrance relaxed the forward pressure and the nose lazily rotated up, suddenly the ride became ultra-smooth, though not before a small feeling of suddenly drifting slightly left set in. The wind was slightly gusty and carrying the aircraft in a direction a little bit left of where the nose was pointed. Terrance corrected the aircraft left, feeling a hotness under his skin, of responsibility and controlled excitement.
The aircraft accelerated a little toward seventy knots, and Terrance began to raise the nose a touch more as the altitude climbed higher. The small, well-kept needles, which indicated altitude, started rotating clockwise, passing toward the 3, indicating 300 feet. Terrance took a quick glance over his right shoulder, noting the airports runways, and that he was just a touch left of the runway left. Just about perfect so far. Adjusting the backpressure he held on the yoke, he kept the speed indicator needle pegged between the mark for 70 knots, and the little notch that indicated 75 knots. Kind of like a balancing act, if the needle drifted toward the 70, a slight relaxing of the backpressure would slow it’s movement to a stop, maybe reversing it. If the needle drifted toward the 75 mark, a slight increase in the backpressure would ease the needle back down.
In only a few seconds the Altitude passed 500ft. As the Airfield was more or less at 0 feet altitude, this was the point in the circuit pattern where the aircraft was permitted to turn.
Keeping up the balancing act with the pitch and speed, Terrance then turned the yoke to the left; setting up a bank between the first and second notches on the artificial horizon, while also keeping a good look out the window. The aircraft turned smoothly in response to the inputs and he added just a little rudder to keep the turn coordinated and smooth. Continuing the turning climb until, glancing over his left shoulder he estimated his position to be climbing away at a 90-degree angle from the runway. Surprised to find the aircraft at the circuit height of 1000ft so soon, Terrance overshot his altitude by almost 100ft, reducing the throttle, which because of the increase in speed during the climb was now sitting at about 2600rpm, down to a reading of 2400rpm and set about stabilizing the aircraft into a slight descent to recapture 1000ft. It wasn’t long before the turn onto base leg was to come up, so Terrance looked intently for the other Cessna.
During the climb, Terry also noted another aircraft call inbound. Not in the pattern, this was an aircraft arriving to Payne field from somewhere else. Now as he looked for the other Cessna, and stabilized his aircraft into a thirty-degree bank turn to final.
The pilot of the other Cessna in the pattern came on the radio.
“…ssna Eight Hotel Golf downwind for Touch and go”
Terrance steered the aircraft out of the turn, being careful not to let it balloon out as he leveled the wings. He pushed the trim wheel down a few rotations to ease the pressure the elevators where giving on the yoke, and double checked his spacing with the runway, and altitude while the controller dealt with the other aircraft.
Terrance keyed the radio once there was a space to talk, and, after a small hesitation, declared himself on downwind for a full stop. Feeling a little heady for a moment as the controller stated the obvious that he was number two in the sequence, and to continue approach for runway one one left.
The turn to base and beginning of descent was always the most difficult part of the pattern to fly, requiring good judgment. Landing an aircraft was no easy task. After nearly 20 hours of flying, much of that in the pattern, Terrance was still no expert at it, but knew enough to not kill himself. He felt he was probably good enough to not even make a fool of himself in front of, not only the instructor, but also the Parents and girlfriend.
Mel had been new to Highschool, arriving only in year 11. Her parents had gotten jobs in Seattle, though it was likely not a permanent thing. They still owned their house in San Francisco, California. Terrance had somehow managed to befriend her almost right away. She was a quiet girl in her own way. Also pretty, though some didn’t think especially so, some skin issues, but not especially bad. Terrance was planning on taking her to the Prom at the end of the school year. It was quite amazing how fast things had progressed from first meeting, to dating to the point of bringing her out to watch his first solo with the parents, but it was a good thing. She was however, only a fleeting thought, lasting only a moment. Instead replaced with procedure, although a quick glance out to the horizon, a glistening, beckoning horizon, made Terrance feel at once awed and humbled. King and servant at once.
“Fifteen hundred revs” he spoke aloud as he smoothly banked the aircraft into the turn to Base. Holding the altitude as the aircraft slowed down to 90 knots. “Flap ten”. Moving the switch to place the flaps to their ten-degree down position, Terrance relaxed the backpressure letting the aircraft begin descending. The Cessna in front was just about touched down on the runway, looking small and insignificant in the distance. The parents and car at the threshold fence were not even noticeable at all. Terrance kept a close watch on his progress, noticing a twin engined aircraft just a little lower, and a touch to the right heading more or less right at him and his aircraft. Noticing his profile getting a little high, Terrance opened more flap to steepen his descent angle. “Flap twenty” he noted, and just for extra measure, pulled some power off to steepen the descent even more, while pegging the airspeed at 70 knots.
Mentally preparing to turn to finals and loose the five knots to get to finals speed at the same time, Terrance heard the Controller give him the clearance to land and vacate to the left side.
“Twenty Eight Alpha Charlie cleared to land one one left vacate to the Left”
The controller then cleared the twin baron to land on one one Right as Terrence began his finals checks. “Ok, Breaks released, Undercarriage, Mixture full rich, Fuel set to both…” he said aloud to himself, realizing he had not said his before landing checklist while on the downwind leg, and continued on “Three hundred feet, tower no light gun, runway is clear, cleared to land and Carby heat off”. As Terry said the items out loud his eyes went to each control which related to the items, and placed his hand on them in the well-rehearsed ritual of the memorized checklist items, maintaining his left hand on the yoke and the aircraft flying the correct profile. The turn to finals complete, and speed reduced to 65 knots, Terrance lowered the flaps to the landing setting of thirty degrees, and, adjusting the throttle a little, concentrated all his effort on getting the aircraft on the runway. Eyes darting from instrument to out the window, to instrument again, the picture seemed to slide right into the correct position, The aircraft was crabbing just a little, so Terrance waited till about the flare height, and reducing the throttle to Idle, added a little rudder with his feet, and a little movement of aileron to counter, holding the aircraft flat, and at the same time pulling the nose up just a touch, nice and smoothly.
The only thing announcing his touchdown were the two, quiet skid like sounds, one just a fraction of a second ahead of the other, of the rubber tires contacting the runway. Terrance smiled to himself as he realized he had just accomplished is first solo flight. Not only that but it had been the best landing he had yet achieved. A true “Greaser” as they said. Elated and smiling, proud of his achievement and still enjoying the glow of the moment, Terrance turned off the runway and called the tower “Two Eight Alpha Charlie clear of runway left”. And with that his first ever flight as "Pilot in Command" was over.
