New Year, New Blog Posts!

Happy New Year everyone! Granted if you’re reading this, it’s a post that’s probably been up for a few days, but that’s the way things go around here.

It’s been a busy couple of months. I’ve largely settled in to a new routine of job hunting and getting to know my kids again, which has included some interesting challenges of their own. Meanwhile I think I’ve mostly come to terms with leaving my last job. There are definitely some perks to no longer being associated with Huge Global Multimedia-MegaCorp, especially when I no longer have to facepalm at some new bit of media produced by one of our other divisions. There’s also been the pleasant realization that for the work I was doing at HGMMC, I should have been making significantly more money than what I actually was.

I’m also realizing that while it seems counter-intuitive, I’m actually less stressed out now than I was for the last six or eight months of working. Turns out that constant crunch really was starting to take a toll on my stress level. A couple of my bad habits that indicate stress have just sort of gone away, after resurfacing hard in the last couple of years.

This is starting to sound like one of those incredibly annoying articles about the “funemployed” that the LameStream media was publishing back with the Obama Recession started. Ick. Let me assure you that isn’t the case here. While I am definitely enjoying some unexpected benefits of leaving a somewhat toxic work environment, I am very much focused on finding my next gig. I love my kids, but I was never meant to be a stay-at-home dad. But in the meantime, it’s nice to be playing games, and catching up with my favorite shows again.

Until next time,

For those with wings, fly to your dreams.

Back in the Pattern...

Back again! It’s been another long absence, but I’m planning on being back for a while this time.

It’s hard to explain. I started this blog with the intent of giving voice to some of my general thoughts, and to chronicle my (planned) excursion into aviation. Unfortunately, the flight plan got interrupted by life and kids, and I found I didn’t want to blog for a while, because of what this place reminded me of. Then I came back for a bit, but three kids and 60 hour work weeks pretty much sapped any desire I had to blog, and what free time I had I found I much preferred to do stuff with my family, play video games, or just veg with the TV. In short, screw talking about the stuff I’m doing or thinking, I barely had time to do or think anything anyway.

So why am I back? The simplest answer is that I finally became a victim of the Obama economy, and after three years of 60 hour weeks, I have no idea what to do with myself. So in addition to looking for a new job (hopefully with slightly less brutal hours) I suddenly have free time to do all the things I’d thought about for the past few years but filed under “if I have time”.

Where does the blog go from here? I’m not sure. I’ll probably have a few political thoughts, and definitely some commentary on my job situation and search. I’m trying to catch up on a lot of the major video games that I haven’t played for the past few years while I’ve been busy making them, so I’ll probably have some quasi-reviews and reactions there. I finally have time to go shooting. Of course I now don’t have a money surplus to go shooting very often, but I have time.

I’ll probably use this to talk about some of my project ideas and progress while I’m on my “Involuntary vacation” as well. The biggest thing for me right now is not to waste this time. About eight years ago I had a three month span of being unemployed, during which I did absolutely nothing other than play video games and eat. It’s been one of my major regrets looking back that I didn’t make more constructive use of the time, and not a mistake I want to make again. How I avoid that trap, however, is a question I don’t entirely have an answer to.

“For those with wings, fly to your dreams.”

On Vacation: An FTYD Interlude at The Great Wolf Lodge

Every once in a while, I like to take the FTYD family on a vacation. This year after getting most of our money back from the feds, and getting a decent (if overtaxed) bonus from AUGD we had a choice between two weeks of road tripping, sleeping in a tent and visiting the in-laws in the mid-west, or a long weekend at an air conditioned, in-door waterpark. After a brief debate we chose the waterpark.

I should note at this point that in spite of growing up in Southern California, I had never previously been to a waterpark. Plenty of theme parks, sure, but somehow the waterpark experience has always eluded me. Whether this is because my parents preferred to make our theme park visits in the less crowded (and cheaper) off season, or simply that we avoided them because the only time anyone really wants to go to a waterpark in California is when it's hot, so you spend more time in line working on your sunburn than actually being wet, I couldn't say. But suffice to say this promised to be as new and novel an event for me as it did for my wife and kids.

The waterpark in question is called The Great Wolf Lodge, and is part of a national chain. The Washington location is located roughly two hours drive (or three in traffic) south of Seattle. Conveniently next to nowhere it looms up beside the interstate and shares signage with another fine WannaFleeceASucker tribe's casino. (Shuttles every 15 minutes). Inside the lodge are a variety of shops, restaurants and amusements designed to carefully separate you from your money, usually through the middleman of your begging children and teens.

Fortunately, the FTYD children aren't old enough to see the appeal in interactive games requiring a wand (rented for $14.95 a game) with a personalized topper (bought for $29.95) or burn money in the arcade, decorate cookies ($3 per cookie) or any of the other diversions. They just wanted to get on the waterslides.

Off we went. Once I adapted to the overpowering scent of chlorine and the noise of rushing water, shouting people and bad pop music, and accepted that my glasses were going to be periodically difficult to see through, I rather enjoyed myself. A question though: at what point inthe last 13 years did the string bikini become normal swimmwear for the barely got their learner's permit crew? I think I would have remembered this from the beaches of my teens, and I don't. It's not like I was checking anyone out with FTYD JR in tow, but I was starting to wonder if John Stossil was going to be standing at the top of the ramp asking me to "have a seat right over there."

Oh well, it was a good day. FTYD JR. proved unexpectedly bold on the slides, and hopefully tomorrow we'll get The Girl on more than the tiny kiddy slide.

Off To the Range!

A couple weeks ago I picked up my first pistol from a local gun store. After passing the IQ test disguised as a background questionierre ("Are you a wanted felon?", "Are you an illegal alien?", "Have you been convicted of domestic violence?" Has anyone ever actually answered "yes" to any of these?) I was able to bring home a gun that hopefully will serve me well in eventual IDPA competition and as a carry piece.

Ruger SR9. 9mm, 4.25" barrel, 17 rounds per mag*

A week later I headed out to the range for the first time. Thanks to my gun gamer sibling, I had four Blackhawk double stack mag holders, and and four extra mags to put in them. Strapping 68 rounds to my right side, plus the loaded SR9 on my left immediately taught me one thing: I need a new belt. The black-leather Wal-mart belt that's reliably held up my pants for years just doesn't quite cut it with the extra weight. Saggy belt issue notwithstanding, I headed out to the range with a friend who hadn't been shooting for about 30 years.

I'm happy to say that the Ruger shoots well, and unsurprisingly, is a lot more accurate than I am. I'll have to work on that. But in the hour or so I was shooting, it happily digested the 100 rounds of cheap 115 grain practice ammo, and 50 rounds of 147 grain hollow-points with nary a hiccup.

Honestly though, the flawless performance of my new gun was a distant second in enjoyment to the smile on my friend's face when he put his first magazine of .22 into a target. I think I got a new shooting buddy, and on the drive home he was talking about buying a .22 of his own. He started off with a Ruger Mk.III, then switched to the more tactical looking Sig Sauer Mosquito, and shot holes in a variety of bad movie posters.

Now I just have to figure out what the best way to work on my accuracy is. I can keep 17 rounds on an 8 1/2 x 11" paper target at 10 yards, but only about half at 25 yards. Given the price of 9mm versus .22, I'm thinking that buying a used .22 and practicing until I can shoot a decent group at 25 yards, then transitioning back to the 9mm might be a good idea. Stay tuned.

*Except in California and Massachusetts. Sorry.

Gun Ed -- Treating Gun Education Like Sex Education

The following was inspired by a comment to Bayou Renaissance Man's recent post about the failure of sex education in Britain.

March 1, 2010
Principal Carlos Vasquez of Compton's troubled Martin Luther King High School announced a radical new program today aimed at reducing the number of deaths due to violent gun crimes. Named "Safe Guns", the program acknowledges that almost one out of every two youths in the high school will at some point be affiliated with one of the gangs which claims Compton for their territory, and that most of the youths attending the school already have access to firearms provided by "Sumdood." The mandatory marksmanship class will replace health class two days a week.

The program has four stated goals:

1. Reduce accidental shootings of innocent bystanders by teaching students proper shooting techniques and marksmanship.
2. Eliminate self-inflicted gunshot wounds by providing each student with a holster appropriate to their gun of choice, and training/demonstrations on how to properly holster and carry their weapons.
3. Lower lethality of gang violence by encouraging students to explore alternatives to traditional center-of-mass shots and target arms, legs, hands and feet instead. This will also be accomplished by providing students with free hardball ammunition, which has been proven to cause less wounding and death than hollow-point or cop-killer bullets, and is less likely to wound a student by explosively failing in their firearm of choice.
4. Protect students from injuries caused by cheap black-market firearms by providing them with safe, reputable alternatives.

About Compton
Since the 1950s, Compton's murder and violent crime rate has risen steadily, although it had dropped several percentage points since 2002. However, citing an average murder and gun violence rate still several times higher than the national average, school officials feel that this radical plan was the best solution. "They're going to shoot each other anyway" said one school official off the record. "The best we can do is teach them to be more responsible about when, where, and what they shoot."

A Rational Voice on Gun Control Comes Out of Olympia

I was utterly shocked to see this story show up on the local news sites today:

Chelan sheriff says gun laws can't stop killers.

The upshot being that in the wake of the murder of four police officers by a parolee (who had previously been pardoned for murder in another state), our governor and legislature, ever eager to give the appearance of action without actually having to do anything, appointed a commission to "See what Washington laws could be changed or strengthened to prevent this from happening again."

Somebody screwed up though, and appointed someone with some sense to the panel. The sad thing is that I'm sure there's a lot of politicians in Olympia who are going to be shocked at the idea that there's no way to make buying a stolen gun, shooting police officers, then stealing one of the officer's service pistols more illegal than it already is.

A Winner is Chosen

I've been priveledged to have had the chance to take the past two weeks off from work. In addition to the opportunity to see the wife and kids that I am too often a stranger to, I also had the chance to see how much rust a sixteen year old water heater contains when it fails, and test the capabilities of a friend's Hoover Steam-Vac against rust in carpet.

I also went to the range. After water heater day, I needed it, and I had planned to use this break to figure out what kind of carry gun I wanted to buy. I'd already settled on 9mm for a caliber, partially on the recommendation of my more famous brother, partly because 9mm is cheaper than .45, and largely because I'm not a particularly good marksman, and I'd like to get good with small bullets before I try getting good with bigger calibers. With that in mind, here was my short list of possible purchase options:
1. Glock 19
2. Sig Sauer P250
3. Stoegar Cougar
4. Ruger SR-9
5. Springfield XD-9
6. Smith & Wesson M & P.

All were guns within my roughly $600 price range, had decent reps for reliability, and were available for rental at my local range. I took them out, shot each one in right- and left-handed modified Weaver stances and single handed from both sides. (I should note here that like my brother, I'm cross-dominant, meaning that my dominant eye is on the weak hand side. This means I'll probably be training to shoot primarily left-handed.) In the end, I successfully found a gun I really liked. The Glock was too uncomfortable, the Sig had too long a trigger, the Stoegar was just a little too weird, but the Ruger was just right.

An SR-9 for me it is then. In the silver/black two-tone, because I don't care to pay the $30 Tactical Surcharge for the black on black version. It's good timing too, because my CCW permit arrived in the mail precisely on schedule, making me legal. So soon, once my tax return comes in, or my bonus shows up, I can start spending money like a drunken democrat congessman: I'll need the gun, spare mags for IDPA, cleaning kit, holsters, lots of ammo to feed through, probably a small gun safe, ammo, and did I forget ammo?

It's going to be an interesting year.

Until next time,
For those with wings, fly to your dreams.

Making Up My Mind, Part 02

I was planning on making this a much more ordered and scholarly post in the vein of Part 1 in this series, but a post by Caleb over at Gun Nuts inspired me to take it in a different direction.

You see, fear, or at least the refusal to be ruled by it, figures into my own decision to carry. It's like this: for various reasons, I tend to work past midnight 3-4 times a week. Often this means my car is the last one in the parking lot, and while my building itself is quite secure, the parking lot is somewhat less so. Trespassers, car prowls, and break-ins are, if not entirely common, certainly an occasional occurrence and annoyance.

For these reasons, when I work late, I walk past a bunch of windows overlooking the parking lot and the path to my car, scanning carefully for anything or anyone irregular. Then I walk out the door knowing that if I missed something, or there was someone in a spot I couldn't see, then I'm pretty much screwed. I don't have the conditioning to run, or the skills to put up much of a fight. It'd be a Very Bad Night for me.

If I lived alone, that might be all right. It's one thing to run risks when you're the only one who might suffer major detriment, but it's quite another when your risks could have a dramatic effect on a wife and three little children. While my overall risks may still be fairly low, evaluated against my lack of latent defensive skills, and the possible consequences of failure, left me with two questions: How much gun can I afford, and what caliber should it be?

My security is my responsibility, and I'm going to make sure I have the tools to defend myself as best I can. The news carries too many people with sound-bytes of "I never thought this could happen in my neighborhood." I refuse to be one of them.

Shoot Him In The Gun!

I'm a little surprised none of the gunbloggers I read seem to have covered this yet, but the most recent Mythbusters covered the popular "disarm the poor bad guy by shooting his gun" myth that's popular both in the movies and with anti-gun advocates who've gained their gun knowledge from movies.

Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of videos up on Discovery.com, but here's a summary and some of my own observations.

1. Even under lab conditions, you can't knock the gun out of someone's hands 100%. The first test they guys ran was to make a mechanical analogue with the same grip strength as a human hand, and try to shoot the gun out of it. Even with perfect alignment, they couldn't successfully shoot the gun out of the hand when it was pointed forward in firing position.

2. Lead Bullets + Steel Guns = Flying Fragments. The tests referenced above also revealed what happens when a lead bullet strikes a gun: the bullet fragments, providing fast-moving chunks of lead that go in multiple, unpredictable directions. Take a look at the start of this video. In the full episode, they show that a number of the bullet fragments hit the guy holding the gun, and had the gun been next to the head of a hostage, it's entirely possible some of the fragments could have hit the hostage too. Lead fragments and unarmored human tissue aren't a happy mix.

3. You can't predict the human element. To test variations in human reactions, they worked up a way to have the user hold a gun that fired in a different direction, simulating the shock of a bullet hit, and remote fired the gun when the holder wasn't expecting it. Here's a video explaining the design, and the physics that make it work. Jaime dropped the gun two out of three times. Adam never dropped it. Had Adam been an actual target, he could potentially have gotten his gun up and a center of mass shot off even after his gun was hit.

Admittedly, the show wasn't perfect. I would have liked to see the show take the experiments farther, testing different calibers and bouncing a few rounds of a Glock or another wonder-nine, but this did have some great visuals and proof.

What did the episode teach, really? For people who actually make the "well, the cops are trained marksmen, they should just shoot the bad guys in the arms, legs, or gun", this should provide some solid visual and scientific proof for why shooting someone's gun is a bad idea. People will still get hurt, and it's not reliable.

Making Up My Mind, Part 01

A week ago, I broke from my normal work routine to take an early lunch break. I drove downtown to the non-descript building that houses our local police department, and emerged a half-hour later with a lighter wallet and slightly smudged fingertips. Assuming no major bureaucratic foul-ups, I should be receiving a piece of paper sometime in early January that gives me the legal ability to carry a concealed handgun.

"But why?" I've been asked a couple of times. It's a fair question. I live and work in a pretty safe neighborhood, the weekly crime blotter usually shows about as many DUI stops as violent crimes, and I've never been the victim of a violent crime. What made me, a married father of three who has never owned a gun decide that it's time to begin going about armed.

The answer is, admittedly, pretty complex, but I'm going to do my best to explain it here. Really, my reasons can be divided into two groups: general concepts, and personal realizations. I'll cover the general concepts now, and the personal stuff in another post.

In general terms, I've always been comfortable with guns. My father was a member of law enforcement, so I grew up around firearms, and shot them with my dad on a few occasions. In my adult life, I've been known to make an occasional trip to the local range and blast holes in paper targets for a relaxing afternoon. Oddly enough, in spite of being the oldest of my siblings, I'm the only one who has yet to actually own a gun.

A couple of years ago, though, I started reading a lot of "gunbloggers." These folks have a lot of other interests, backgrounds, and hobbies, but they also share general conviction about the benefits of an armed citizenry, the rights of people to be armed, and the fun of shooting. Bloggers such as Ambulance Driver, Caleb, Breda, Lawdog, The Atomic Nerds, and a host of others were instrumental in developing my world view to a point where I could intellectually accept the benefits of being an armed citizen.

These are what got me to accept the use of going about armed. But going from rational acceptance to personally embracing the armed citizen life would require some developments in my personal life as well.

We'll cover those in Part 02 of this series.

Coming back

My last post of any significance was about sixteen months ago. For all intents and purposes, this has been a dead blog in the mean time, but here I am, starting again.

Why bother? Mostly because I feel like I have some things to say again, some stories I want to tell, and my muse has finally come back.

Why did I stop? That’s a much more complicated answer. I suppose a bit of the blame can go to a chaotic work schedule while we pushed our latest game out the door that left me a little burnt out, and bringing our third child into the world probably didn’t help either. But the truth is, this blog had become all about my flying journey, and that had come to an abrupt halt in September when I realized that the money was gone, and the funding source I’d hoped to have wasn’t going to happen. Blame the economy, blame the housing bubble, mostly blame me for stupidly optimistic planning, but the fact remains that I made two supervised solo flights, and one unsupervised solo flight of a few touch and goes, then walked away from the airfield.

It sounds silly, but it hurt too much to come back to this blog. I felt kind of sad every time I saw a Cessna or a Piper fly overhead in the clear blue sky this summer. Flying had been my dream for years, and I did not happily choose to postpone that dream once again. Getting back to a place where I could go to the airport again, or think about this blog, took a long time. Approximately sixteen months, apparently.

But I’m back. Like I said above, I feel like my voice is coming back, and I’ve got a few things to say. Some interesting things have been happening in my life, as Mrs. FTYD and I have tried to live more financially responsibly, FTYD Junior has passed four years old and turned into a pretty interesting kid, FTYD Daughter provides weekly lessons in understanding women and why men have trouble doing so, and FTYD Boy #2 is cute. And I’ve made the decision to join the ranks of the armed Americans. That last one there, is what’s probably going to be a big topic for the next few months at least, as I spend some time explaining how I came to make the decision to be an armed family, and explore the fun of figuring out what gun to buy when you’re a total newbie.

Thanks for reading, and see you soon.

For those with wings, fly to your dreams.

Windows is Shutting Down. Please wait while updates install...

I'm returning to blogging. There will be new content posted in the next couple of days.

Errata

It’s been a slow few weeks on the blog. I’d like to say that the silence is due to me flying every day, studying for my written test, and that the only thing I’m waiting on is a date with an FAA examiner to approve my flying.

In reality, I haven’t flown since my last entry. Reasons for this range from Good (week-long road trip from Washington to Nebraska for a close friend’s wedding, playing Mr. Mom with The Girl for a few days while The Lovely and Gracious Wife (TLGW) and The Boy went to another friend’s wedding in Indiana), to Bad (forgot to move logbook from firesafe to flight bag after returning from vacation, found this out when asked to present said logbook to CFI to receive sign-off for a solo flight) to Ugly (wind, wind, and more wind. Who’da thunk that it’d be so difficult to get a tee time with less than a seven knot crosswind component in Seattle in August?!?)

Still, it’s been a fun month. For the Nebraska road trip we deviated from the Interstate onto a lot of two-lane highways, and a highlight of one night’s all-night drive through Nebraska was seeing the rotating green/white airport beacons as we came into each small town. Those beacons were often the first milestone that some civilization was coming up, and someday I’m looking forward to seeing a few of those little airports from the air (though perhaps not at night).

On the Indiana trip, The Boy got his first taste of real aviation with a pair of non-stop rides on an Airbus A319, which he thoroughly enjoyed. Even a week and a half later, he’s still talking about the ride on “Big Plane” (with arms outstretched as far as they’ll go) with Mama, followed by a choo-choo ride (with whistle noises).

And then there’s the weather. August is one of the sunniest months in the Puget Sound, and this year is no exception. What I’m also learning, though, is that August also seems to play host to a lot of unstable weather patterns, most of which blow in from the bay at about an 80 degree angle to the Boeing Field runways. I’m beginning to think there’s a Murphy’s Law corollary for August flying weather in Seattle, and it goes something like this:

1. On sunny days, the crosswind will be too strong to fly.

2. On days when the crosswinds are okay, the ceiling will be too low to fly.

3. On days when both the crosswinds and ceiling are okay, you will be too busy at work, need to spend time with the family, or forget your logbook. Barring all of these, no aircraft will be available.

C’est la vie, I suppose. Or as the great philosopher Calvin would say “When life gives you lemons, wing ‘em right back with some lemons of your own.”

Just like Beggar's Canyon Back Home

Saturday marked the successful completion of my second supervised solo. Due to circumstances beyond my control (namely the perpetual rehabilitation of the Bravo taxiways at Boeing Field, which this weekend meant that they closed the main runway) we made the very short hop over to Renton (RNT) to conduct the procedures.

I've never flown out of Renton, (home of Boeing's 737 assembly line) but it's an interesting field. One end of the single runway is backstopped by a great big barrier fence, while the other ends where the lake and seaplane base begin. We were operating towards the water, which at least solved the question of where I was going to go if I had an engine failure on takeoff.

I had fun though. Renton has some interesting aircraft operating out of there, and having success flying the pattern in an unfamiliar airport definitely boosted my confidence. The only squawk was that the mic on my headset started acting up again, requiring me to borrow my instructor's headset during the solo.

Oh well. During one circuit I had a brief bit of excitement when a flash of light at my altitude caught my eye absent of any warning from Renton tower or the TCAS system. I started to shade right, until I realized that I was attempting to avoid a mylar balloon.

Finally, my instructor was nice enough to use my little hand-held video camera to record some grainy video of my landings for posteriety. Here's one of my better ones from Saturday (visible short final starts at about the 00:53 mark).

A Milestone

According to the statistics published by the AOPA, there are only about 600,000 pilots in the United States. This means that pilots make up about 0.2% of the population.

On Tuesday, I felt like I truly joined them as made my first solo flight.

As flights go, it wasn’t anything terribly special. Three touch and goes in the pattern with my instructor to make sure I was having a good day, with the third landing being a full stop. We taxied back to the flight school, my instructor got out, grabbed his hand-held radio and signed my logbook, then I fired up the DA-40 again.

This, of course, was the point when I found out that the fuel injector system in the DA-40 doesn’t like being shut down and hot-started within fifteen minutes. I’ve grown accustomed to an engine that reliably holds its RPMs as soon as it starts, but not this time. This time it started with a bunch of 50 RMP swings, which made me a bit nervous. But the roughness went away at flight RPMs with a slight leaning of the mixture, so I figured take it to the run-up area and if it was cleared up by then, I wouldn’t worry.

I calmly dialed in the ground control frequency, and pushed the transmit button. And was immediately rewarded with a squealing bit of feedback while I tried to talk to the controller. Time to switch to the handheld mic that I’ve never used before.

Honestly, after that, things seemed to go pretty easily. The Diamond climbed a bit faster with just me on board, and while my landings weren’t great, they weren’t bad either.

I made three touch and go’s, then brought her back to the flight school. In the same number of pieces I left with.

Boo-yah.

A vacation and a fresh start

It’s been an interesting month since my last post. My flying was interrupted by a week and a half vacation to California, then resumed with a focus on passing my first stage check. In the parlance of the flight school I’m attending, this stage check is a flight where one of the school’s Master CFIs rides in the right seat, and observes your behavior as though you were flying solo. It’s his determination of whether you can safely get one of the school’s expensive aircraft off the ground and return it in the same number of pieces you left with that decides if you’re ready to solo.

I figured that I was pretty well prepared for my stage check. I hadn’t done much of any studying while on vacation, preferring to simply enjoy some time to unwind from the 60+ hour work weeks I’ve been doing for the past few months, but I had scheduled a refresher flight with my instructor for the day after we the family got back from our trip. The refresher flight went up on a nearly windless Saturday morning, and was probably one of the smoothest I’ve ever had. Stalls, slow flight, and steep turns were all within PTS standards, and one or two of my landings even felt pretty good. I was confident of a good performance the upcoming Tuesday.

Tuesday arrived, and as I drove to the airport, I could feel a bit of nervous energy kicking in. I was still excited though, and the butterflies were doing a pretty good job of flying in formation. I tossed up a couple of quick prayers, and soon enough, my questioner for the day started in on the ground school questions.

And then everything fell apart.

It’s been more than seven years since I graduated college, and at least that long since I’ve taken a difficult test that meant something important. I had totally forgotten that when I feel confident beforehand with limited preparations, I’m setting myself up for a world of hurt.

My recalled ground school knowledge wasn’t up to standards. I think it was close in most areas, but not enough to pass the actual FAA test. Still, the instructor didn’t fail me right there, so we headed out to preflight the airplane.

At least that part went well. I’m fairly sure he had pulled the circuit breaker when I wasn’t looking, but either way, I managed to catch and reset it when it came up on the checklist. The transponder was also not in its proper VFR configuration, but again, those were little things that I managed to catch before firing up the engine. It wasn’t until after the prop started spinning that I started getting rattled.

In hindsight, my first mistake wasn’t as bad as I thought. The winds were in the process of shifting, a new ATIS bulletin was about to go out, and the ground controller told me to taxi to the wrong runway and only caught his mistake after I’d finished my run-up checks. Of course, I thought I’d misheard (the instructor confirmed that it was the controller’s mistake, not mine afterwards) and spend the taxi back to the other end of the runway mentally kicking myself for being stupid, and telling myself to shake it off and focus.

Unfortunately, I was starting to get rattled, and it started to show when combined with my lack of recent practice. I blew through the final takeoff items checklist a little too fast, and forgot to note the takeoff time before we went roaring down the runway. In fact, I pretty much forgot the proper use of checklists, period, until we were in the practice area and I was working on my maneuvers.

It was a bumpy afternoon. None of my maneuvers would have met the PTS standards, but they, at least, were sufficiently close that the instructor felt comfortable saying I could practice those solo. Then it was time to head back, and my fun really got started.

The winds were still shifting, and the pattern was nice and busy. Boeing Tower was obviously dealing with a lot of aircraft, and I started on a long base leg entry; an approach I’ve never quite done before. Predictably, I came in too high, and ended up going around. On the bright side, the landing on the go around was one of the smoothest I’ve managed yet (and it ate up more runway than it should have. Ed.) After that we pulled up for another touch and go, only to have the tower flip the active runways and have me do a 180 in the downwind leg. In a move that shouldn’t have surprised anyone, the instructor then decided that it was the perfect time to have me simulate an engine out landing. Had it been an actual emergency, I could have made it (I would have used the big 9000’ runway) but on the 3150’ foot little airplane runway my engine miraculously fixed itself in time for me to go around. And have my flaps do a simulated failure.

I couldn’t do a flapless landing any better than I could an engine out. Perhaps sensing that I was just about at the end of my rope, nothing else had simulated failures on the next go around, and I was able to get the aircraft on the ground again (with a decidedly jarring point that I was very definitely on the ground).

After one final confused brain fart about where to park, I sort of fell out of the airplane and had a brief discussion with the instructor. The short was that my landing approaches weren’t good enough yet, but everything else was close enough that he’d leave my actual solo approval to my regular instructor.

That was the Tuesday of a week ago. In perspective, written down, the story doesn’t sound that bad, just a challenging day with a lot of good learning experiences, but it took a lot out of me at the time. There certainly hasn’t been anything recent that has left me as mentally and emotionally drained as that couple of hours.

But I’m pressing on. My next flight is Thursday, back with my regular instructor. With some better focus on using checklists and maps, and not relying so much on the fancy G1000 instruments, I should be soloing in a couple more weeks. I’m trying to keep in mind what a pilot friend of mine, a guy who used to be an Air Force instructor, told me about training:

“Training isn’t the fun part. It’s not supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to teach you to be safe when you’re ready to fly for fun.”

Wake-Jumping at 4,000 Feet: More flights

The slow, drawn-out process of Spring is finally taking hold here, but the weather patterns involved have continued to make flight lessons a challenge. In the past couple of weeks, I've had two lessons canceled outright, and one that we ended prematurely after finding the ceilings too low at the practice area, and the air too turbulent at the airport for me to learn anything. There's a time and a place for learning crosswind landings, but my instructor isn't a big fan of the "throw you in the deep end and tell you to swim" approach. Considering he has to ride in the seat next to me, I don't blame him at all.

Still, Saturday managed to bring with it an unexpected heat wave, and some good flying weather. With my regular instructor on a vacation (not my fault, I swear) I went up with another instructor from the school, and committed aviation.

Actually, it was a flight with a lot of personal firsts for me: First time flying off the big runway at Boeing Field, first Vashon departure, first time my left-hand steep turns have approached adequate, and my first landing at a different airport. Oh, and my first time flying into an uncontrolled airport as well, plus my first attempt at a landing on a runway using PAPI lights rather than VASI.

I didn't do too badly, though it's still crystal clear that I need a lot more practice before my landings can be described with adjectives other than "jarring", "bumpy", or "tooth-rattling". With 8.9 hours in my logbook, that's to be expected.

I've got another flight scheduled for tomorrow, about which I'm guardedly optimistic of my chances for succesfully completing. The weather is back to its typical combination of rain and small sunbreaks, so we'll see.

Until next time,
For those with wings, Fly to your dreams.

Flight Lesson 4 – Takeoffs are optional, Landings are mandatory

I fear I’ve taken a bit longer than I should for this update [and that’s a change how, exactly? Ed.] but the weather and my schedule haven’t exactly been cooperating again, thus I’ve had one flight in the past couple of weeks, plus a ground-school lesson.

Ground school was somewhat illuminating as we mostly focused on airspace regulations, and map reading. It was a good reality check session for me, on the order of realizing how much I don’t know. Odds are I’ll be resorting to flash cards to memorize the subtle distinctions between Class B, C, D, and E airspace rules. At least maps have legends you can use to (mostly) figure out what things mean.

The real fun, however, was on my flight lesson. I finally got some good weather, a cool, clear, crisp Saturday morning with nothing but the light haze from a thermal inversion layer making The Mountain (Mt. Rainer for the non-local) a little less than picture perfect. Either because the weather North at Everett was less stellar, or because I’m still taking too long to do my pre-flight checks, we scrubbed the original plan to fly to Paine Field in Everett and learn landings there, instead staying in the Boeing Field pattern for an hour.

No complaints here either way. Takeoffs, especially when I get to do them, are still a rush that I don’t think I’ll ever completely tire of. If pushing the throttle full forward and getting pushed back into your seat by acceleration as your airplane lunges for the sky ever starts failing to bring a grin to my face, it’s time to check my pulse, because I’m probably dead. Plus, in an hour of pattern work, I finally started to feel like I can keep up with the airplane during these maneuvers.

Nobody was going to mistake my landings for those of a pro though. By the end of the hour, I’m pretty sure my instructor wasn’t adding a lot of extra control input to get us on the ground safely, but every single one of them was definitely of the “Hard Thud” variety. Still, it was definitely fun, especially as I started to get the reference points and important directions.

Weather.com and the Magic 8-Ball both agree that tomorrow should be a good flying day, so hopefully I’ll get Lesson #5 in. Saturday should be interesting as well, since I’m planning on taking The Boy with me to start getting him familiar with the airport and real airplanes. No flying (obviously) we’re just going for the point where jet noises don’t freak him out.

For those with wings, fly to your dreams.

Flight Lessons 2 and 3

Flight training report this week. I missed doing an update for my second lesson, wherein the most significant thing was experimenting with slow flight. We just barely got the flight in under cloud cover that would start snowing later in the week, but it’s time logged, and right now I’m still of the opinion that any flying day is a good day.

I finally got to try out my new flight bag too. I’d been using a backpack I’d gotten as a freebie at a game developer’s event a couple of years ago, but for my birthday, my Lovely and Gracious Wife got me a dedicated flight bag from Sporty’s. She even got my initials monogrammed on the bag! I’m really blessed to have a mate who supports my crazy plans and dreams.

Tuesday was another flying day. Lesson number three, and my introduction to stalls and instrument flying. It was a really bumpy afternoon, and of course, I would be under the hood (a vision restricting device that blocks your view outside the airplane) during the worst of it, just fighting to keep the airplane straight and level. In some ways, though, it’s easier than trying to do the same thing in a simulator, since your tactile senses help tell you the airplane is moving. Not that I can entirely trust them. I’ve “enjoyed” some lovely vertigo sensations while playing simulators, when I knew my butt was nailed to the floor, and could tell my inner ear to shut up, I know better than to trust my sense of balance when the airplane really could be banking left.

Stalls in the DA40 are interesting too. It’s a very well behaved trainer, and after the stall warning horn starts, the next thing you get is a mild buffeting on the stick, then buffeting of the entire aircraft, before the nose finally drops at around forty-five knots. Basically the aircraft gives you plenty of “Don’t do that”, “No, really, don’t do that”, “Seriously, if you keep it up, stuff is going to happen!” feedback beforehand. It also seems to glide quite nicely at seventy-eight knots, as demonstrated when my instructor decided to give me my first taste of emergency procedures with a brief bout of “engine trouble”.

Assuming the weather holds out as good, I’ll go up again tomorrow morning (Saturday). Apparently I’ll try landing for the first time *twitch*.

For those with wings, fly to your dreams.

Please Help Global Warming!

Note: I did get to fly on Thursday, and will have a post about that and my schedule up in the next couple of days, but first, this important message!

HELP GLOBAL WARMING!


Because it's past the middle of April, it's Seattle, and it's snowing outside. Seriously, can we get some extra CO2 here? Blizzards in Cleveland in April I can deal with, because it cancels baseball games that give me lovely double-headers to attend in August (anyone else remember the fun that was the first couple weeks of last year's baseball season). But Thundersnow-storms out my office window I have a little more of a problem with.

Well, at least my kids are happy. Per the Lovely and Gracious Mrs., The Boy and The Girl are standing at the dining room window shouting "Snow!" right now.