No Joy

In aviation, when air traffic control (ATC) alerts you that there is traffic (other aircraft in the vicinity of your flight), your radio response should include whether you have spotted that traffic, whether it is in your way or not, whether you need to move to avoid it, or whether you do not see it. For the last option, you can tell the controller, "We do not have the traffic in sight," or something similarly wordy, but another option for conveying that you do not see the other aircraft is to say, "No joy," which is an old expression indicating that you do not have your target in sight.

I would argue that the expression "No joy" could also be used during flight training, when trying to capture a new certification or endorsement and not quite getting it, or better yet trying to capture the happiness and excitement about flying in the first place. I'm bringing all of this up because, although I turned in consistently good tailwheel landings today, I was not able to capture that feeling of joy from flying that I usually get when I do it. When I popped up in the air in the Super Cub today, the thrill was gone and it felt more like work, like an unattainable goal, like a Sisyphean task, except instead of pushing a boulder up a hill and having it repeatedly roll back down, I bounced those bush tires down on the grass strip just to take off and bounce them down again. Maybe I'm being punished for thinking this was something I could be great at?

Things that could have contributed to my continued but ultimately futile search for my target, joy:

- Hassles encountered upon getting my car out of the parking garage and driving it from the city out to rural New Jersey: Before I even had the opportunity to enter the fray that is the traffic heading towards the Lincoln Tunnel on 9th Avenue, one of the parking attendants yelled at me for politely asking for my car. For once I yelled back (kind of; he was meaner).

- Gusty winds making me work harder for good flying: The winds scared me a bit as my wings got bumped up and down, but that just made the consistently good landings that much more rewarding. But it wasn't fun. I wasn't enjoying anticipating when to put in more aileron for crosswind correction on takeoff, when to crab, or anticipating shear as I came in past a cluster of tall trees. Okay, I did start to enjoy the crosswind correction on takeoff, especially when the Cub leaned on the right tire.

- Negativity from other pilots: Someone I have seen hanging around the airport but not actually flying was intent on criticizing my home airport, Lincoln Park (N07). I myself have written on this blog about feeling intimidated by the tiny strip, but have always been focused on feeling confident to land there (which I finally do), and I don't think negativity or scare tactics help. This pilot continually brought up crashes there, even warning me not to stand too close to the woods near our airplane hangar because I might get hit by a crashing plane. The only upside to this conversation was that for once I said exactly what I would have wished to have said later when ruminating about it, simply responding: "You're intense about Lincoln Park, aren't you? I think we should all be proud of our home airports and we should all try to fly safely."

- Wishing I had the sign-off in my logbook already. I know, I know: "You can't hurry Cub, noooo you'll just have to wait..." [sung to the tune of "You Can't Hurry Love"]

I sure hope the thrill isn't gone away for good for me and the Super Cub, and that in the coming weeks instead of saying, "No joy" about the elusive thrill I can say "Tally ho!" (meaning I have my target in sight).

Current Events

As I was thinking about what to write about flying earlier today, I remarked to Mr. Aviatrix that there wasn't much to say because today's flight was uneventful. What I realized almost as soon as I said that is that that is a good thing. I also think I am feeling that way because flying is becoming more of a regular thing for me, and I am feeling less and less like a 'wannabe' and more and more like a plain old aviatrix. And yet it was eventful because it was a beautiful day of once again seeing things I would only get to see from our small aircraft flying over the snow-dusted hills and ridges and thawing rivers and lakes of the states of New Jersey and New York.

Even the fact that we can talk on the radio to other aircraft in the pattern with us at untowered airports still leaves me with a sense of wonder. For example, today we were in the pattern at Sullivan County Airport (KMSV) in Bethel, New York with a Piper Comanche ahead of us. Nothing eventful happened, and yet I still think it is very cool that as we were calling out our positions to each other, we could watch our aircraft carrying out our plans; when he said he was turning left base, watching his single-enging, low-wing plane square off to the left from our vantage still amazed me, even though I've seen my share of aircraft in the pattern.

After we turned in some landings at KMSV, we headed back to Lincoln Park (N07). It was a nice little 'currency' flight, making sure we got up for about an hour and a half and got some flying in. I even dialed in a nice landing at N07 with a little welcome guidance from Mr. Aviatrix. I am extremely grateful for another non-eventful and yet very eventful flight.

Sunshine State Survey

I'm feeling a little less like a "wannabe" and a slightly more like a regular "aviatrix" as I write this. Mr. Aviatrix, our dog whose head is shaped like an airplane with giant delta wing ears, and our C182 have all been in Florida for a couple of weeks for some immersive flying. My goals have been to increase my comfort with our plane and with being PIC, to prepare for the instrument rating written exam, and to build PIC cross-country hours for the instrument rating (the FAA requires 50). Mr. Aviatrix also did some training: He obtained his multi-engine seaplane rating in a Grumman Widgeon! He is now in possession of every possible airplane rating.

We based our plane and ourselves in Vero Beach (KVRB). I flew a lot of hours with a terrific CFI and IFR guru. Although I thought my KLAL training had me flying all over Florida, this time I really took a survey of the Sunshine State. The IFR guru and I took a couple of trips down memory lane and visited Lakeland (KLAL), where I completed my private pilot training. We flew to Space Coast Regional, which itself provides long runways (5,000 and 7000 ft) but is also so-named due to its proximity to the NASA Shuttle Landing Facility, which has a 15,000 foot runway that can be viewed from your plane and approached low, but definitely not landed upon. I practiced some landings at small, untowered fields like Pahokee (KPHK), La Belle (X14), and Sebastian (X26). We even visited a fly-in community, Spruce Creek (7FL6), which is where Mr. Aviatrix did his Grumman Widgeon-ing.

Today we flew to Venice Beach (KVNC) to meet friends of ours for lunch. I was PIC and Mr. Aviatrix handled the radios and also helped me out with flight planning. Our dog was PAX. Flying us all there and back, I finally felt like a real pilot, rather than some imposter who is living (and flying) in fear that the FAA is going to send me a letter saying that signing off on my check ride was a mistake and could I please return that little seafoam green card with Orville and Wilbur on the back?

Flying Meditation

“When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” — Leonardo da Vinci

Leonardo da Vinci was probably not talking about flying an airplane when he said or wrote these words but they applied to whatever his version of the freedom of flight might have been and for most of us who fly aircraft, the words likely ring true.

I returned to flying our Cessna Skylane today after a 4+ month hiatus during which I was cheating on it with an aforementioned (in other posts) Super Cub. Admittedly, I was not looking forward to flying the Skylane, despite its greater speed and G1000 glass cockpit. One reason I was not so enthusiastic is that winter has finally arrived in the northeast and temperatures the past couple of days have been in the 20s. I did not relish pre-flighting in the frigid hangar, feeling my fingertips go numb as I fumbled with my checklist and my fuel sump. I was not looking forward to getting into so much plane after flying a more stripped down aircraft that felt like I had strapped on my own pair of wings every time I flew it.

And yet, this apprehension about flying the Skylane was the very reason that I needed to fly it, kind of like feeling like you are too stressed to meditate or don't have time is the very time that you need to do it most. I needed to get back in the sky in this plane and remind myself that I knew how to fly it...and that is pretty much what I started doing.

For those following routes of flight on this blog, we began at N07 of course and headed to MGJ for a few landings. I quickly learned that all of my tailwheel landings would do me no favors, as I had to readjust my sight picture, my use of airspeed, flaps, and trim, and my flare. Thankfully it didn't take too long. Then in a bit of symmetry, we flew the Skylane to 12N where I've been doing my tailwheel endorsement. I managed to do some nice landings on a runway that is similarly short and narrow compared to N07, waved to my wonderful tailwheel instructor, and headed back to N07, where I was finally able to dial in some nice landings after feeling so challenged last year. I think I might be a real pilot after all!

I had a wonderful time and was reminded again of how time flies when I am PIC (and how it's a bit slower when someone else is in the left seat). Not only does time fly, it stops - I forget everything on the ground that is bothering me and automatically place my focus on the plane. I don't even have to try not to think about stressors, rather they just magically recede and evaporate. And now I am back on the ground, looking out the window at the blue, cloudless sky and thinking about when I will be up there again (which will be tomorrow).