If yesterday felt like a lesson in what not to do when learning to fly tailwheel aircraft, today felt like how to fix all of those errors and get it right. I woke up this morning determined to get to the airport, get back in the groove and flow of tailwheel flying, and most of all to have fun. 1.9 training hours and 17 grass strip landings later I can say that not only did I accomplish that list of goals but also that I did it while dealing with a crosswind.
Crosswinds and gusts have intimidated me since I began flying in 2012, and my intimidation hasn't diminished simply because I passed my checkride and have my ticket. And yet I had much more flying around today than I did yesterday when the winds were calm. We certainly worked on crosswind landings, but also crosswind takeoffs, nudging the plane to lean on the left or right tire during takeoff depending on wind direction - something that you can and should do in a tri-gear plane like our Skylane but that felt more extreme to me in the Super Cub. I was nervous to do that but with the big bush tires on the Super Cub it was so much fun!
Today's fixes for yesterday's problems included:
1) Remembering to sit up straight in my seat rather than crouching down as I descended, a habit I had formed as if I had to bodily land the same way as the plane.
2) Envisioning the glide path of my plane properly when on downwind in order to turn base at the right time, remembering that it is less about a squared-off pattern and more about setting myself up at the right angle and height to land well, and being reminded that this will change depending on airports, terrain, wind, and aircraft.
3) Being mindful of the terrain below me. For example, on a windy day like today, my instructor's suggestion to extend my crosswind to avoid turning and flying downwind over a ridge was extremely helpful in terms of avoiding getting bumped around. And he did the right thing by letting me make the mistake of flying downwind over the ridge myself and experiencing those jolts before suggesting an easy way to avoid it on the next pattern.
4) Not giving up when I didn't like something that was happening on short final approach or as I was over the runway, and realizing that I could make small corrections to revise and improve my landings that were in the moment, intuitive, and effective.
When I woke up this morning I really did not want to go flying because I was feeling so discouraged about yesterday's flying but then I remembered something that I learned from my CFI in Lakeland that seems pretty simple to say and think but can be difficult to put into practice when you feel like you're failing: If at first you don't succeed, fly, fly again!
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Stalling the Aviatrix
In aviation, one way to think of a stall is as an event caused by a lack of air flowing over the wings of an airplane, which leads to a deficit in the amount of lift needed to keep the airplane flying. Today I felt like I stalled - like a number of things got to me while I was flying, resulting in a lack of airflow and thus a lack of lift. Please note that this was not at all the case in my actual flying, but more in the way the act of flying and learning felt. All of this is to say that I feel disappointed in my tailwheel flying today.
I logged two hours and sixteen landings in the Super Cub today between Andover Aeroflex Airport's and Trinca Airport's grass strips in the service of my ongoing quest for my tailwheel endorsement. By the end of the time, the landings were fine, but just that and not good, great, excellent, or perfect (not terrible, poor, or dangerous thankfully but not what I wanted, either). So they were fine but could use some work to attain a solid assessment of "good".
Weather, work, family obligations, illness, and lack of funds are the kinds of things that get in the way of heading to the airport to go flying. But what about the things that hinder flying once you've pre-flighted and are taxiing to the runway to take off? The things that get into your brain and won't get out no matter how vigorously you try to shake them out? What about the things that come up during the flight that might throw you off? I'm thinking of examples like:
- not getting enough sleep the night before and deciding to fly anyway
- engaging in the typical 24/7 work lifestyle that so many people have adopted out of necessity so that there are always emails pinging and files to work on over the weekend
- having a conflict with a friend, spouse, partner, co-worker, or family member that nags at you
- worry about something, ranging from waiting to hear about medical test results to wondering if your dog is okay at home without you to hoping you get that home loan to hoping you don't hit too much traffic on the way home to just about anything people typically worry about
- differences in pattern etiquette (e.g., "We're using runway 1." vs. "Well, we're using runway 19!") [For the non-aviators/aviatrices reading this, runways can usually be utilized in either direction so the runway number depends on which direction you're taking off and landing. These directions always differ by 180 degrees as they are based on a magnetic compass, just as North refers to 0 degrees and South refers to 180 degrees on a compass. Thus, pilots need to agree on which runway they are taking because they cannot arrange to meet in the middle to admire each other's aircraft.]
- the wind picking up
- lack of confidence
- needing to use the bathroom (Just as your car does not have a toilet, neither does my small plane which seats the same number of people, if not sometimes fewer.)
I have some hypotheses about what happened with my flying today and it's two or three of the above, all of which resulted in distractions and a negative mindset leading my proverbial Aviatrix wings to stall. I'm going up again tomorrow and I'm going to try to bring a better attitude about whatever comes my way. Mr. Aviatrix picked me up in our Skylane, so here is a photo of us flying away from Andover (in the upper quarter of the image):
I logged two hours and sixteen landings in the Super Cub today between Andover Aeroflex Airport's and Trinca Airport's grass strips in the service of my ongoing quest for my tailwheel endorsement. By the end of the time, the landings were fine, but just that and not good, great, excellent, or perfect (not terrible, poor, or dangerous thankfully but not what I wanted, either). So they were fine but could use some work to attain a solid assessment of "good".
Weather, work, family obligations, illness, and lack of funds are the kinds of things that get in the way of heading to the airport to go flying. But what about the things that hinder flying once you've pre-flighted and are taxiing to the runway to take off? The things that get into your brain and won't get out no matter how vigorously you try to shake them out? What about the things that come up during the flight that might throw you off? I'm thinking of examples like:
- not getting enough sleep the night before and deciding to fly anyway
- engaging in the typical 24/7 work lifestyle that so many people have adopted out of necessity so that there are always emails pinging and files to work on over the weekend
- having a conflict with a friend, spouse, partner, co-worker, or family member that nags at you
- worry about something, ranging from waiting to hear about medical test results to wondering if your dog is okay at home without you to hoping you get that home loan to hoping you don't hit too much traffic on the way home to just about anything people typically worry about
- differences in pattern etiquette (e.g., "We're using runway 1." vs. "Well, we're using runway 19!") [For the non-aviators/aviatrices reading this, runways can usually be utilized in either direction so the runway number depends on which direction you're taking off and landing. These directions always differ by 180 degrees as they are based on a magnetic compass, just as North refers to 0 degrees and South refers to 180 degrees on a compass. Thus, pilots need to agree on which runway they are taking because they cannot arrange to meet in the middle to admire each other's aircraft.]
- the wind picking up
- lack of confidence
- needing to use the bathroom (Just as your car does not have a toilet, neither does my small plane which seats the same number of people, if not sometimes fewer.)
I have some hypotheses about what happened with my flying today and it's two or three of the above, all of which resulted in distractions and a negative mindset leading my proverbial Aviatrix wings to stall. I'm going up again tomorrow and I'm going to try to bring a better attitude about whatever comes my way. Mr. Aviatrix picked me up in our Skylane, so here is a photo of us flying away from Andover (in the upper quarter of the image):
Saturday, October 24, 2015
We're going back...to the tailwheel!
Today marked my return to working on my tailwheel endorsement. My last three scheduled dates for training were all canceled because of poor weather (IFR, storms, and lastly wind). I hadn't flown it (or any other aircraft) since the third week in September. Today was admittedly a bit gusty, but we went for it anyway.
An important aviation principle is remaining current, meaning that pilots must fly within a certain time frame and complete certain requirements in order to legally fly. These requirements are put in place to ensure safe flying. Most of the pilots I admire and listen to recommend flying as much as possible and much more often than legal currency requires in order to retain a feeling of comfort and confidence; this comfort and confidence includes getting to know your airplane, practicing for emergencies, and just plain practice flying in general (takeoffs, landings, navigation, radios - just to itemize a few skills). Life can get in the way of this, including things like work, family obligations, weather, illness, and even distance from the airport. Mr. Aviatrix is very good about maintaining currency, and will make sure to fly with a CFI sometimes even if he is legally current but feels like it's been a few weeks and it would be better to go up with a teaching expert to wake up his skills. And you read that right - a few weeks. Practicing your flying skills to keep them sharp can be hard enough to accomplish in a plane you fly in all the time, but it's also important when learning to fly an unfamiliar aircraft. I'm glad I was able to refresh my currency in the Super Cub today. Even the act of climbing up into it today was a challenge, similar to the first time I did it - something that had become a bit easier by my last lesson but that I was rusty on after an approximately four-week break.
It was my first time flying while wearing layers (thermal shirt, sweatshirt, leather jacket) this season. The mental and physical work of learning the stick and rudder skills to successfully track the Super Cub on the ground and to land it smoothly with as few bounces as possible (and hopefully none when I go back out) made it so that the layers - and the cabin heat - made it a bit hot in the plane. Despite that, once I peeled off a layer or two and remembered my sight picture and the way the Cub flew, things really took off.
I was able to do twelve landings today, with ten of them at the little grass strip near the flight school called Trinca (13N) and two at Andover Aeroflex itself (12N), which has a paved runway as well as its own little grass strip. Some of them were even good, although not as many as I would have liked. I'll just say that when I did my first few landings today after an unexpected break in tailwheel training, I bounced so much that I made sure to tighten my seatbelt, reminiscent of that famous Bette Davis line from the film All About Eve: "Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night!" Hitting the grass felt like Disney's Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. But at least I worked my rudders to track straight once I rolled onto the ground.
In addition to returning to tailwheel training ASAP in order to regain the skills I had learned in September, I was so grateful for the break from reality that an hour or two off the planet affords. I can never recommend this enough. Whatever is bothering you or stressing you out will disappear, even if only temporarily. When I fly I literally cannot think about anything else but flying, which is as it should be.
An important aviation principle is remaining current, meaning that pilots must fly within a certain time frame and complete certain requirements in order to legally fly. These requirements are put in place to ensure safe flying. Most of the pilots I admire and listen to recommend flying as much as possible and much more often than legal currency requires in order to retain a feeling of comfort and confidence; this comfort and confidence includes getting to know your airplane, practicing for emergencies, and just plain practice flying in general (takeoffs, landings, navigation, radios - just to itemize a few skills). Life can get in the way of this, including things like work, family obligations, weather, illness, and even distance from the airport. Mr. Aviatrix is very good about maintaining currency, and will make sure to fly with a CFI sometimes even if he is legally current but feels like it's been a few weeks and it would be better to go up with a teaching expert to wake up his skills. And you read that right - a few weeks. Practicing your flying skills to keep them sharp can be hard enough to accomplish in a plane you fly in all the time, but it's also important when learning to fly an unfamiliar aircraft. I'm glad I was able to refresh my currency in the Super Cub today. Even the act of climbing up into it today was a challenge, similar to the first time I did it - something that had become a bit easier by my last lesson but that I was rusty on after an approximately four-week break.
It was my first time flying while wearing layers (thermal shirt, sweatshirt, leather jacket) this season. The mental and physical work of learning the stick and rudder skills to successfully track the Super Cub on the ground and to land it smoothly with as few bounces as possible (and hopefully none when I go back out) made it so that the layers - and the cabin heat - made it a bit hot in the plane. Despite that, once I peeled off a layer or two and remembered my sight picture and the way the Cub flew, things really took off.
I was able to do twelve landings today, with ten of them at the little grass strip near the flight school called Trinca (13N) and two at Andover Aeroflex itself (12N), which has a paved runway as well as its own little grass strip. Some of them were even good, although not as many as I would have liked. I'll just say that when I did my first few landings today after an unexpected break in tailwheel training, I bounced so much that I made sure to tighten my seatbelt, reminiscent of that famous Bette Davis line from the film All About Eve: "Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night!" Hitting the grass felt like Disney's Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. But at least I worked my rudders to track straight once I rolled onto the ground.
In addition to returning to tailwheel training ASAP in order to regain the skills I had learned in September, I was so grateful for the break from reality that an hour or two off the planet affords. I can never recommend this enough. Whatever is bothering you or stressing you out will disappear, even if only temporarily. When I fly I literally cannot think about anything else but flying, which is as it should be.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Super Steam Gauge Super Cub
The last time I posted here was a week ago to report on my introduction to tailwheel flying after I had logged one hour of it in a Super Cub. This post is being logged after almost a full, second day of working on the tailwheel endorsement during which I logged more excellent learning and discussion on the ground along with two full hours and eighteen landings in that very same Super Cub. I can confirm that, of my 138 total flying hours, this is still the most fun I've had flying an airplane, even when things got tough...which they are bound to do just starting this out and learning to tap the rudders to keep the plane straight during takeoff and landing rolls as well as learning three-point landings where you put the plane into an attitude of trying to land the tailwheel first. In fact, today was even more fun than the last time because some of the skills are beginning to gain traction. My clumsy climb into and out of the tandem cockpit raised up on bush tires is even starting to look slightly less clumsy, although I imagine I still need many more climbs before I can look like I know what I'm doing.
Going from flying a glass cockpit G1000 C172 and C182 for most of my hours to the steam gauge Super Cub with a completely different sight picture and even way of sitting near my CFI (he sits behind me instead of to my right) has been truly refreshing and I can already notice ways that it is improving my flying:
1) I look outside more because the computer bells and whistles of the two G1000 screens are not pulling my eyes inside and down. Today this was especially tempting as we flew with the cockpit door open. There is nothing like feeling the wind against your skin as you fly an airplane and actually feel like you know what you're doing. I felt so free...and pretty cool.
2) I keep in mind that the plane is ahead of the instruments and that the G1000 is fibbing a bit because it can't possibly be as accurate about altitude and airspeed as it's saying. In a steam gauge plane, the needles are giving me the information and they are just about right but I don't focus on the minutiae of their numbers. For example, for the takeoff in the Cub, I push the throttle forward, let the stick go, feel the tailwheel come up on the roll, feel the stick move forward with a little tension, and then I know it's time to pull the stick back and take off.
3) I can't see over the nose during takeoffs and landings - the two activities that comprise the bulk of the tailwheel endorsement training. Instead, I must look at the periphery of my sight picture, at 10 and 2, at the runway, at the parked planes, at the lights on the side, and at the grass. In other words, I must take everything in and not zero in on the runway, something that I tend to do in the Cessna trike gear aircraft (and apparently I'm not alone). I would say I can't wait to see how this improves my flying the next time I fly the 182, but I'm much more excited to fly the Super Cub again. I almost don't care if I never get to fly the 182 again!
There are so many more things I'm excited about and have learned about tailwheel flying. Of my 18 takeoffs and landings today, only one was on a paved runway, so one more thing I've learned is that I would really love to find a way to have a home with a grass strip in the backyard.
Going from flying a glass cockpit G1000 C172 and C182 for most of my hours to the steam gauge Super Cub with a completely different sight picture and even way of sitting near my CFI (he sits behind me instead of to my right) has been truly refreshing and I can already notice ways that it is improving my flying:
1) I look outside more because the computer bells and whistles of the two G1000 screens are not pulling my eyes inside and down. Today this was especially tempting as we flew with the cockpit door open. There is nothing like feeling the wind against your skin as you fly an airplane and actually feel like you know what you're doing. I felt so free...and pretty cool.
2) I keep in mind that the plane is ahead of the instruments and that the G1000 is fibbing a bit because it can't possibly be as accurate about altitude and airspeed as it's saying. In a steam gauge plane, the needles are giving me the information and they are just about right but I don't focus on the minutiae of their numbers. For example, for the takeoff in the Cub, I push the throttle forward, let the stick go, feel the tailwheel come up on the roll, feel the stick move forward with a little tension, and then I know it's time to pull the stick back and take off.
3) I can't see over the nose during takeoffs and landings - the two activities that comprise the bulk of the tailwheel endorsement training. Instead, I must look at the periphery of my sight picture, at 10 and 2, at the runway, at the parked planes, at the lights on the side, and at the grass. In other words, I must take everything in and not zero in on the runway, something that I tend to do in the Cessna trike gear aircraft (and apparently I'm not alone). I would say I can't wait to see how this improves my flying the next time I fly the 182, but I'm much more excited to fly the Super Cub again. I almost don't care if I never get to fly the 182 again!
There are so many more things I'm excited about and have learned about tailwheel flying. Of my 18 takeoffs and landings today, only one was on a paved runway, so one more thing I've learned is that I would really love to find a way to have a home with a grass strip in the backyard.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
The Funnest Flying Post Ever
Superlatives are appropriate for descriptions of aviation and I definitely use them. I've applied them to the "biggest" plane I've ever seen up close (a C5 at Airventure), the "best" flying moment I've ever had (up to this point, still the moment I passed my PPL checkride), the "bumpiest flight" (a windy flight to Gabreski Airport in a Cirrus with Mr. Aviatrix at the controls and doing a great job), the "most inspiring flight" (my first ever in a small plane with Mr. Aviatrix at the controls taking me on a date to lunch at Orange County Airport), the "scariest" flight (first solo cross-country), the "most restorative" flight (my first-ever ride in an open cockpit aircraft and in a Stearman provided by one of the wonderful, supportive owners of Tailwheels Etc. towards the end of my PPL training when I just thought I wasn't going to be able to finish and had the ample sweat and tears that day to back that feeling up), and the "coolest" aviation experience (watching the STOL competitors recreate the Valdez competition at Airventure) [see photos]:
Today I can add "funnest" to my list of aviation superlatives (the grammar police aren't sure if it's a real word, but I'm risking it). As of today, my funnest flight was in the front seat of a PA-18-160, aka Piper Super Cub, a classic tailwheel aircraft. If you heard someone in rural New Jersey whooping and yipping around 9:45 this morning, it was me taking off in the one at Andover Aeroflex as the tailwheel came off the ground and I gently pulled the stick back to climb into the air. I wasn't whooping so much when I had to climb into the thing, with its 29" bush tires and my 62" height, but I made it in and it felt like where I was meant to be. We worked on S-turns and fast-taxis on the ground, working to control that slippery, slithering tailwheel on the ground. As anyone who does tailwheel flying can attest, touching the wheels to the runway in the landing is just the beginning; once you're down you need to control the airplane to taxi it straight.
I brought a confidence to today's flying that I just haven't had in our C182, maybe because the plane is lighter and more in tune with the sky or maybe because this is the kind of flying I have wanted to do ever since my "coolest" experience at Airventure watching those pilots do their STOL flying. As the fantastic CFI and tailwheel expert (and something of a regional celebrity) with whom I trained today said, it's "like you're wearing it," which I think of as putting on your own wings and truly flying through the sky. Communing with the sky and nature and focusing on this purest of aircraft provided the feeling of "flow," a term coined and studied by psychologist and professor Dr. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (I am a psychology associate prof myself, so must throw these references in from time to time). This is the sensation I seek and often get when I fly, the feeling that time and stress both pause as I focus on doing an engaging activity that requires my focus and concentration and that I love. It even gave me a research idea or two once I was back on the ground and out of the plane...
Today I can add "funnest" to my list of aviation superlatives (the grammar police aren't sure if it's a real word, but I'm risking it). As of today, my funnest flight was in the front seat of a PA-18-160, aka Piper Super Cub, a classic tailwheel aircraft. If you heard someone in rural New Jersey whooping and yipping around 9:45 this morning, it was me taking off in the one at Andover Aeroflex as the tailwheel came off the ground and I gently pulled the stick back to climb into the air. I wasn't whooping so much when I had to climb into the thing, with its 29" bush tires and my 62" height, but I made it in and it felt like where I was meant to be. We worked on S-turns and fast-taxis on the ground, working to control that slippery, slithering tailwheel on the ground. As anyone who does tailwheel flying can attest, touching the wheels to the runway in the landing is just the beginning; once you're down you need to control the airplane to taxi it straight.
I brought a confidence to today's flying that I just haven't had in our C182, maybe because the plane is lighter and more in tune with the sky or maybe because this is the kind of flying I have wanted to do ever since my "coolest" experience at Airventure watching those pilots do their STOL flying. As the fantastic CFI and tailwheel expert (and something of a regional celebrity) with whom I trained today said, it's "like you're wearing it," which I think of as putting on your own wings and truly flying through the sky. Communing with the sky and nature and focusing on this purest of aircraft provided the feeling of "flow," a term coined and studied by psychologist and professor Dr. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (I am a psychology associate prof myself, so must throw these references in from time to time). This is the sensation I seek and often get when I fly, the feeling that time and stress both pause as I focus on doing an engaging activity that requires my focus and concentration and that I love. It even gave me a research idea or two once I was back on the ground and out of the plane...
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Flying High Upon the Wings of Love
Yesterday I resumed some IFR training, including attempting my first instrument approach with my CFI talking me through it. I can definitely understand why IFR student pilots are so exhausted after training sessions - scanning those instruments, orienting oneself, listening to the radio, and executing a landing after 'breaking out' (of the clouds) requires a lot of mental energy. After my training session we returned to N07 for a quick lunch and a call for a flight briefer for an afternoon trip.
Once our lunch was finished, I had my briefing, and our car was all tucked away in the hangar, I climbed into the left seat of our C182 for my afternoon mission: fly Mr. Aviatrix and our dog to KFOK, also known as Francis S. Gabreski Airport in Westhampton Beach, New York. This was only my third time flying Mr. Aviatrix anywhere and I had never flown with our dog in the backseat, so I was a bit nervous.
It was an approximately 80 mile, 40 minute flight that included some time over the Long Island Sound. We divided up the responsibilities before we left: Mr. Aviatrix would handle the radios as well as the fuel-air mixture. I would fly the airplane. We would both look for traffic. I am happy to report that the flight went very well and I even had some moments of relaxing, enjoying the view, and chatting with Mr. Aviatrix as we were flying. He was an exemplary SIC and was so helpful and supportive, sweetly repeating over and over, "You're doing great! You're doing great!" The only time I didn't believe he felt that way was on my landing when he tried to "help" with the flaps; I was annoyed in the moment but I understand his impulse to want to make sure it was the perfect landing, as well as to rely on his own habits and ways of doing things. As in many other situations in life for most people, I'm sure sometimes it was difficult to relinquish control. This was our best flight together with me as PIC yet. In some ways, this was the flight that made me feel like a real pilot, more than when I passed my checkride, because it was just a regular trip from one place to another, flying real passengers, simply for the purpose of getting somewhere...getting somewhere in the most fun way possible of course!
Once our lunch was finished, I had my briefing, and our car was all tucked away in the hangar, I climbed into the left seat of our C182 for my afternoon mission: fly Mr. Aviatrix and our dog to KFOK, also known as Francis S. Gabreski Airport in Westhampton Beach, New York. This was only my third time flying Mr. Aviatrix anywhere and I had never flown with our dog in the backseat, so I was a bit nervous.
It was an approximately 80 mile, 40 minute flight that included some time over the Long Island Sound. We divided up the responsibilities before we left: Mr. Aviatrix would handle the radios as well as the fuel-air mixture. I would fly the airplane. We would both look for traffic. I am happy to report that the flight went very well and I even had some moments of relaxing, enjoying the view, and chatting with Mr. Aviatrix as we were flying. He was an exemplary SIC and was so helpful and supportive, sweetly repeating over and over, "You're doing great! You're doing great!" The only time I didn't believe he felt that way was on my landing when he tried to "help" with the flaps; I was annoyed in the moment but I understand his impulse to want to make sure it was the perfect landing, as well as to rely on his own habits and ways of doing things. As in many other situations in life for most people, I'm sure sometimes it was difficult to relinquish control. This was our best flight together with me as PIC yet. In some ways, this was the flight that made me feel like a real pilot, more than when I passed my checkride, because it was just a regular trip from one place to another, flying real passengers, simply for the purpose of getting somewhere...getting somewhere in the most fun way possible of course!
Monday, August 24, 2015
Returning from My Aviation Vacation
I flew as PIC today after a hiatus of a little over five weeks. It has not felt good at all not to fly: I've worried about the atrophy of my aviation muscles and felt like I wasn't really a pilot. But Mr. Aviatrix has been taking the plane a lot for work, so I can't really complain. Although he's been flying it so much that I've joked that we need a second aircraft (some of my suggestions have included a Husky, an old 172, a Super Cub, and even a trike - I love all kinds of aircraft). We also did some fun flying around Canada, all of it with some IMC (instrument meteorological conditions, meaning clouds, meaning instrument flying as there is nothing to look at outside the airplane), so I could not do that flying. I certainly got to practice my radios, as I at least could help with that part of the workload. For any pilots that read this, you'll be relieved to know that I still sound like myself and am not talking in that "radio voice" we sometimes hear on the frequencies - you know the one that resembles 70s radio disc jockeys introducing the latest summer hits.
Today I went with my CFI to Sullivan County Airport (KMSV) to make sure I still had my landings and to build some cross-country time for my instrument training. While it would have been perfectly legal for me to fly there myself, I think it is always beneficial to fly with a CFI if you've taken some time off from flying, and as a new pilot myself I think it is essential, especially as I complete my transition to a high performance C182 from the classic trainer C172. The runway there is so long that we were able to do stop-and-go's, something I haven't done since my primary training at KLAL. Then we returned to N07 where I logged a couple of (very thankfully) uneventful landings.
Lastly, I hit 130 hours today!
Today I went with my CFI to Sullivan County Airport (KMSV) to make sure I still had my landings and to build some cross-country time for my instrument training. While it would have been perfectly legal for me to fly there myself, I think it is always beneficial to fly with a CFI if you've taken some time off from flying, and as a new pilot myself I think it is essential, especially as I complete my transition to a high performance C182 from the classic trainer C172. The runway there is so long that we were able to do stop-and-go's, something I haven't done since my primary training at KLAL. Then we returned to N07 where I logged a couple of (very thankfully) uneventful landings.
Lastly, I hit 130 hours today!
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