As my flight training continues, there comes a time when every student pilot will need to fly solo. All alone, no instructor to save the day, no one to remind you what to do, just all alone. Some students are ready, they want to fly solo even before they are ready. Not me, nope. I liked to have experience sitting in the seat next to me, coaching me, but it was more for “moral” support than it was for my lack of technical skill. Like anything else, my flying learning curve consisted of good days and bad days, one day I would fly like Maverick in Top Gun, and the next day, I couldn’t fly to save my life (almost literally). There was the part of me that wanted that instructor sitting next to me, and the other part of me that said I got this, no problem.
The solo day had arrived, after a bit of ground, and a good pre-flight we took off and headed to the desert. I was familiar with the airport, we’d practiced there many times. The instructor told me, “let’s see how it goes and if everything is going well, I’ll get out”. Ok, I was feeling a little nervous, but deep down I knew, he would never get out if he wasn’t confident in my skills. We remained in the pattern and did half a dozen or so touch-n-go’s. He hadn’t touched the controls or given any critical instruction so he says, “make this one a full stop, I’m getting out.” I was feeling pretty darn good, maybe even a little over-confident.
In the blink of an eye, I was in the airplane starting it up, alone. He had a handheld radio just in case we needed to communicate. I made my radio calls, rolled into position, and my heart was racing as I added power and felt the wind beneath the wings. As I climbed to pattern altitude I just kept thinking, “Oh my God! I’m doing this!” It was both empowering and scary as hell. I began my crosswind turn, complete, I turned downwind and made my radio calls. Altitude, check. Airspeed, check. Flaps, check. Fuel pump on, check. Pre-landing checklist, check. Alright, I’m good I thought. I make my turn to base, and it feels good, I turn to final, and all is good, the descent is good, airspeed is good, and the attitude of the plane is good. As a get closer to the runway I am right where I am supposed to be, the wind isn’t pushing me around too much, I’m lined up well with the centerline, and I’m good. My landing isn’t perfect but it was a solid B+, maybe even an A.
The instructor and I had discussed I would do three take-offs and landings on this first solo flight. One little hiccup, I was so excited and feeling so good, that I forgot he said, FULL STOP take-offs and landings.
I just had a great solo take off and my landing was nothing to be ashamed of, I knew I got to do it again, so after I touched down, I added full power to take off again, and that’s when the trouble began. I added power too quickly, and the airplane instantly became squirrelly, all over the runway, out of the front windshield I saw the dirt on the left side of the runway, then the dirt on the right side of the runway, the plane wanted to fly, the wings felt like they dipped as I tried to correct and overcorrected, and corrected. Over the radio, I hear the booming voice of my instructor, ” Kill the power! Kill the power!” You have to realize that it took longer for you to read this than it took while it was actually happening. With the power off and a little heavy footed on the brakes, the airplane calmed and I exited the runway and taxied shaking to where the instructor was waiting.
I had shaken myself up pretty well. I was a mess. I shut off the engine, opened the door, and got an earful from the instructor. I not only scared myself but frightened him pretty good as well. I think it’s time to mention, that I was dating and later married my flight instructor, so there was a little more passion to the “earful” than it just being about scaring us both. There was no way I wanted to get back in and pilot the airplane home. I lost the confidence I had built, I was mad I made a mistake, and I was mad at him for the “earful”. But, he made me fly us home. While I was mad at him for that at the moment, (and quite a few moments after that) it was exactly what I needed to rebuild my confidence and “get back on the horse” so to say. I started to feel all the nerves again as we came to land, but I muscled through and brought the plane in as I had so many times before, uneventful. I was still emotional as we exited the airplane to a small crowd of other flight students and instructors. (We routinely celebrated solo flights, and took pictures). Let’s just say that was not one of my better pictures, I was still mad at myself and my instructor/boyfriend.
Second Solo
It took a little time, and some more practice to get my confidence back. Then Solo day came again. I felt even more confident in my skills than I did the first time as we flew back to that desert airport again and the instructor got out, again. This time I was perfectly clear and in all caps, I am going to do three full-stop take-offs and landings, although I had a few hours of practicing touch-n-go’s, so I wouldn’t repeat the situation of the first solo. The second solo isn’t nearly as exciting as the first one, I did three very well-executed take-offs and landings that were really pretty unremarkable. I felt calm, I easily got the airplane set up and in landing configuration. I now had more hours practicing landings than most student pilots. It was becoming second nature, I didn’t feel any pressure of excitement as I did the first time. Except that I did it! I “got back on the horse” and I flew an airplane all by myself. We discounted the “first solo” and used this day as my solo date, as you see, I’m smiling in this photo!