This was the SCARIEST flight of ALL!
My seventh lesson was back on Tuesday evening of this week. It was a lovely evening as I preflighted the airplane. Lovely that is, till I check the fuel tanks. I dropped the dip stick into the tank and pulled it out again. 2 gallons!! That's barely enough fuel for us to get airborne and back down on the runway.. I checked it again, banging the stick down to get it as deep as possible. Check again and.... 2 gallons. Rats. The opposite tank had about the same amount of fuel. Sigh... I had been warned that this would happen to me someday.
Now, fuel for the Cessna Flight Club is paid for by our member dues. We are free to use what we wish as long as it's in a Club aircraft. The real burden was having to fuel up the airplane. The way it works is, you taxi the airplane up to a fuel truck, hook up a ground wire (to disapate any static electricity), swipe your club card through a reader, grab the nozzle and hose and start filling the airplanes tanks. Really not that much different then fueling a car, but for the fact that the pump in the fuel truck moves about 10 times as many gallons a second as your pump at a gas station. So don't over fill. Lots of gas everywhere if you screw this up.
With fueling out of the way, we taxied out to the runway and once more I got to take off! The feeling of tires leaving the ground and watching the airport get smaller underneath you as you ascend into the sky is a thrill I hope I never lose. On this lesson, Bruce had me doing more of the radio work, contacting the tower for clearance to take off, etc... He still handled the radio during times when there's a lot going on, like take off, landing and when we're about to get run over by an airliner.
Heading out to the practice area, we actually had a fairly close encounter with another single engine aircraft heading in the opposite direction. He was moving along fairly quickly, passing over us by about 1000 feet or so. We had spotted him in plenty of time to evade had it been necessary, so there was no danger of a collision.
When we arrived to the area near Lake Cheney, Bruce had me start practicing slow flight manuevers some more. First, flying slowly, while making shallow turns left and right, without loosing or gaining altitude. Then, just flying as slowly as possible till the airplane starts buffeting on the edge of stall.
"Slower Steve, Slower!!" Bruce admonished me, as I pulled back hard on the yoke. Cessna's do not like to stall and it takes a lot of pulling to get the airplanes nose up high enough.
"Pull Harder" Bruce said and in a fit of fustration, I yanked the yoke back just a little....
"Ooooooo...... So" I thought to myself, as the aircrafts nose dropped straight down and we proceeded on the most direct route to china, "That's what the ground beneath the airplane looks like."
Yes, ladies and gentleman, I had successfully Stalled the airplane. When I felt the nose drop suddenly, my instinctive response was to push forward. This would get the airplanes speed back up, and we would recover. However, pushing forward was NOT required. The flight lessons emphasied (repeatedly) that you "relieve the back pressure on the yoke". I figured out the distinction pretty damm fast as the control yoke hammered forward into the instrument panel and the aircraft started imitating a lawn dart. Essentially I had over reacted to the stall, sending the aircraft into a far deeper dive then was necessary for a recovery.
Bruce earned his pay just then. "I have the airplane" he commanded, as he slapped the flaps back up, reduced power and began pulling back on the yoke with a smooth even motion. Moments later we had returned to our altitude and made a check of ourselves and the cabin to make sure everything was okay.
After I botched the slow flight, and then the stall recovery, the next great risk was that I would over react again, yanking hard on the control yoke and overstressing the aircraft. It's even possible, that I would have pulled hard enough to send us into a second "High" speed stall. Which would have taken ever longer to recover from, possibly using more altitude then we had.
Oddly, one of my first thoughts was to ask Bruce whether he was okay. It was a silly question in retrospect, Bruce is a trained acrobatic pilot as well as a flight instructor, with hundreds (maybe thousands) of hours of stick time.
We discused it, and what I did wrong as we got back up to altitude and then I had another go at slow flight. No yanking this time, I held steadly back on the yoke, increasing the pressure smoothly as our angle of attack increased. Finally, we felt the gentle burble that indicated that the wing was getting ready to stall and I relaxed, letting the stick move forward. The aircraft recovered and we ended up within a hundred feet of the altitude we started out. Bruce gave me a "Nicely Done" for that and we headed home.
Homeward bound, Bruce helped me get the airplane lined up on the centerline of the runway and talked me through a smooth landing. Sweeeeettt, though somewhat anticlimatic after that deep stall manuever.
All in all, another fun flight!
Next lesson, Sunday!!! Beware earthers!
Now, fuel for the Cessna Flight Club is paid for by our member dues. We are free to use what we wish as long as it's in a Club aircraft. The real burden was having to fuel up the airplane. The way it works is, you taxi the airplane up to a fuel truck, hook up a ground wire (to disapate any static electricity), swipe your club card through a reader, grab the nozzle and hose and start filling the airplanes tanks. Really not that much different then fueling a car, but for the fact that the pump in the fuel truck moves about 10 times as many gallons a second as your pump at a gas station. So don't over fill. Lots of gas everywhere if you screw this up.
With fueling out of the way, we taxied out to the runway and once more I got to take off! The feeling of tires leaving the ground and watching the airport get smaller underneath you as you ascend into the sky is a thrill I hope I never lose. On this lesson, Bruce had me doing more of the radio work, contacting the tower for clearance to take off, etc... He still handled the radio during times when there's a lot going on, like take off, landing and when we're about to get run over by an airliner.
Heading out to the practice area, we actually had a fairly close encounter with another single engine aircraft heading in the opposite direction. He was moving along fairly quickly, passing over us by about 1000 feet or so. We had spotted him in plenty of time to evade had it been necessary, so there was no danger of a collision.
When we arrived to the area near Lake Cheney, Bruce had me start practicing slow flight manuevers some more. First, flying slowly, while making shallow turns left and right, without loosing or gaining altitude. Then, just flying as slowly as possible till the airplane starts buffeting on the edge of stall.
"Slower Steve, Slower!!" Bruce admonished me, as I pulled back hard on the yoke. Cessna's do not like to stall and it takes a lot of pulling to get the airplanes nose up high enough.
"Pull Harder" Bruce said and in a fit of fustration, I yanked the yoke back just a little....
"Ooooooo...... So" I thought to myself, as the aircrafts nose dropped straight down and we proceeded on the most direct route to china, "That's what the ground beneath the airplane looks like."
Yes, ladies and gentleman, I had successfully Stalled the airplane. When I felt the nose drop suddenly, my instinctive response was to push forward. This would get the airplanes speed back up, and we would recover. However, pushing forward was NOT required. The flight lessons emphasied (repeatedly) that you "relieve the back pressure on the yoke". I figured out the distinction pretty damm fast as the control yoke hammered forward into the instrument panel and the aircraft started imitating a lawn dart. Essentially I had over reacted to the stall, sending the aircraft into a far deeper dive then was necessary for a recovery.
Bruce earned his pay just then. "I have the airplane" he commanded, as he slapped the flaps back up, reduced power and began pulling back on the yoke with a smooth even motion. Moments later we had returned to our altitude and made a check of ourselves and the cabin to make sure everything was okay.
After I botched the slow flight, and then the stall recovery, the next great risk was that I would over react again, yanking hard on the control yoke and overstressing the aircraft. It's even possible, that I would have pulled hard enough to send us into a second "High" speed stall. Which would have taken ever longer to recover from, possibly using more altitude then we had.
Oddly, one of my first thoughts was to ask Bruce whether he was okay. It was a silly question in retrospect, Bruce is a trained acrobatic pilot as well as a flight instructor, with hundreds (maybe thousands) of hours of stick time.
We discused it, and what I did wrong as we got back up to altitude and then I had another go at slow flight. No yanking this time, I held steadly back on the yoke, increasing the pressure smoothly as our angle of attack increased. Finally, we felt the gentle burble that indicated that the wing was getting ready to stall and I relaxed, letting the stick move forward. The aircraft recovered and we ended up within a hundred feet of the altitude we started out. Bruce gave me a "Nicely Done" for that and we headed home.
Homeward bound, Bruce helped me get the airplane lined up on the centerline of the runway and talked me through a smooth landing. Sweeeeettt, though somewhat anticlimatic after that deep stall manuever.
All in all, another fun flight!
Next lesson, Sunday!!! Beware earthers!