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).
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Sunday, January 31, 2016
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.
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.
Monday, January 18, 2016
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?
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?
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
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).
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).
Sunday, November 8, 2015
If at first you don't succeed, fly, fly again
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!
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!
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.
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