Contnues from Learning to Fly 2

Lesson 46 Gusty solo circuits
It's Saturday, and the weather omens and tea-leaves say it's going to be increasingly windy, to the point that a severe weather warming has been issued. Qualifying Cross Country is the eventual goal, but perhaps not today. Maybe I can do some Instrument flying or Practise Forced Landings.
Two out of three Instructors are off sick so the third is flat out. No Instruction today, but to my amazement they decide I can go off and do some solo circuits instead, something I've been desperate to do ever since my solo consolidation. I feel my landings have deteriorated since those warm August days....
Starting the aircraft from cold is always a trial: I'm very glad my BMW isn't this hard to start on a cold morning! Once started, I request taxy for circuits from the tower and toddle off across the empty airfield (I'm now convinced no one flies from October to March). The wind is gusting across the runway and I'm hoping I can make a better job of crosswind landings on to a wet runway than I have done before.
Once I take-off the effects of the gusts are far more apparent. It's impossible to keep the aircraft straight, but this is great practise! I get blown about all round the circuit but crosswinds and gusts are something you have to take in your stride. I turn Base, trim for 75-80Kt, turn Final a long way into wind because I'll be blown across during the Final, fly the approach Jeremy Clarkson-style and keep a wing low in to the wind.
And it's all very low-stress: I remember my Instructor showing me how to do approaches and it felt like this; like you were on rails and the numbers on the end of the runway were just coming towards you inexorably. Sure, it's bumpy and gusty but the aircraft is trimmed and the less I fight it the smoother it is.
I'm aiming for the upwind edge of the runway as an experiment, as if I'm going to land on that, knowing that as I flare and straighten out I will drift across to the centreline. And that's exacty what happens and now I'm not panicking because the aircraft is headed for the grass on the downwind edge of the runway. So a proper, controlled flare and I touch on the centreline pointed straight down the runway. A satisfyingly quiet squeak from the tyres and I'm rolling. Let's see if we can do a few of these consistently.
Carb heat and flaps away, throttle and right rudder, wing down hard in to wind and at 65 I lift off and trim for best climb out.
On the third circuit I'm turning Base and can hear the Tower talking to another aircraft who asks for a straight-in approach to Final. The Tower says he's number 2 to land (I'm no 1), he agrees then promptly cuts me up by flying right across in front of me. I'm not too fussed; I just do an orbit (good low level turn practise) and follow him down at a safe distance, but it was a bit naughty.
As I progress the wind gets up and by end of an hour my bladder and the crosswind component are telling me it's probably time to call it a day. A last landing (this has been great practise: I feel a lot happier about crosswind landings) and I taxy off to the pumps where I am met by the flying school owner who tells me that my Instructor was flying the aircraft that cut me up, and he got a right telling-off from the Tower afterwards.
So it's not just me that makes a mess of things!

Lesson 47 Communications breakdown
Another early Sunday morning start. I hate these: I never feel sufficiently prepared or awake. Note to self: following attainment of PPL, no early-mornng weekend flying!
It may just be good enough to do my Qualifying (solo) Cross-Country, known as the QXC (don't you love this jargon?).
Obtain signature, fly from Oxford to Conington, land, obtain signature, fly from Conington to Gloucester, land, obtain signature, fly from Gloucester to Oxford, land, obtain signature. Without getting lost......
A lack of NOTAM preparation and the inevitable paperwork delays departure until past 11am. I shall need to get on to get back before dark.....
Pack up the aircraft with a spare headset and spare oil, start up and leave (they seem to have abandoned check circuits). The air is cold and the aircraft leaps in to the air. Within 100 feet I realise it's going to be hazy: navigation is going to be a challenge today.
First waypoint is Beckley mast, directly in front of the crosswind leg on climb out.... except that today I can't see it in the haze. Question: should I abandon, or wing it? Oh, sod it, I know where it is, fingers crossed.
Cross Oxford and head for where I know the mast is. Can't see it, must be below. Yup, there it is, roll out and start the stopwatch. I can see below but not much else. Ooo er....
Ten minutes later I switch radio to Cranfield but they can't hear me properly, and even I know there's something up with the radio: it's all distorted in my headset. Reseat the headset connectors, turn the radio off and on again, thump it, check the frequency, wait a bit until I am closer, try again.... just as bad. Huh?
I decide it's them (and they are hugely busy, too busy to provide an effective Flight Information Service anyway) so abandon any attempt to contact them and decide to wait until I am closer to Conington.
Twenty minutes later my navigation gets me near Conington (cool!) and I attempt to contact them. They struggle to hear me (on either headset) until I am almost in the overhead, then suddenly everything is OK again. They've changed to a right-hand circuit which fools me for a moment: shake the mental Etch-a-Sketch then the image reforms: descend here, turn this way, land here. I'm already on the Dead Side and can descend. Clearing turns, carburettor heat and chop the throttle. Descend to 1000ft and cross to the Live side for the circuit. Neatly round, turns in the right places and I'm on Final, set up and trimmed. No crosswind to speak of, so I land neatly and backtrack.
On the packed and tiny apron a baton man waves me to stop, then having shown him the key so he knows I'm shut down, he reverses me in to a parking space with a pushrod. Valet parking: do I tip him?
Jump out (it's cold in Peterborough) and enter the packed, warm clubhouse. I love coming here: they are very friendly and welcoming. Signature and landing fee; grab an energy bar and call Kidlington. The radio has apparently played up before but maintenance can find nothing definitively wrong with it (now they tell me!). So I'll carry on. It was OK near the airfield so maybe it's just weak. Anyway, it's a long walk back to Oxford......
Back to the apron; check oil and fuel, start up, and go. Climb in the overhead to 2000ft then head West. I can't climb above 2,500ft because that's where the clouds are. Hmmm, it's OK here but this won't get me over the top to Gloucester.
The clouds lift but now the sun is in my eyes and I can't see a bloody thing so the Landing Light goes On. Fortunately my navigation is accurate and everything comes up on the numbers. I swap radio to Sywell but they can't hear me properly either, so I dogleg around them a bit and press on. I probably should abandon and go back to Oxford but quite frankly having come this far I'll press on. Even if I have to descend in the overhead at Gloucester I know the radio will eventually function.
The cloudbase lowers dramatically as I cross the M1 near Daventry and I'm forced down below 2,000ft. This will need to lift if I'm to pop over the hills to Gloucester.
West of Gaydon it's a navigational desert; all I have to go on are the hills looming ahead, so I keep going and up pops Evesham, right on schedule. Even cooler! Deep breath and try to talk to Gloucester Approach.
Their response comes back loud and clear: I'm saved. The clouds relent and I pop through a gap in the hills near Bishops Cleeve. A final wall of cloud is between me and sun-kissed Cheltenham. I'm forced down to 1,800ft as I pop under it, and the hills are looking a trifle close (that hillwalker just ducked), but I'm through and I can see Cheltenham, then the airfield. A drama-free approach is followed by a lousy landing: I seem to float for ever as the runway is downhill but eventually the wheels touch and we're down. Gentle braking as the runway is wet and backtrack.
Park up next to a very smart Scottish ATP propjet airliner and jump out feeling scruffy. It's warmer in Gloucester. In through the extremely smart Arrivals hall (Nothing to Declare!) to pay my landing fee and glean my signature. Off to the café for a drink amongst the non-flyers watching the aircraft moving around on the apron. Half of them have binoculars and notepads. I feel some watershed has been crossed: I used to be one of them; now I'm one of the people they watch.
Kidlington is having showers, they are worried about me getting back and landing in the rain, but I set off anyway as the clouds have lifted just enough for me to pop over the hills scraping the base. I now have a tailwind and it seems that the moment I breast the hills I can see Little Rissington airfield: my half-way home point.
Change to Brize Radar who are quiet and bored and can hear me perfectly, and within 10 minutes I can see Farmoor reservoir and the airfield, so I thank Brize and change to Oxford, who can hear me fine. A gentle descent past Charlbury and Blenheim and I drop in to the empty circuit.
Like yesterday, it's a bit crosswindy so I offset the approach, drop a wing into the wind, and aim for the upwind side of the runway. The runway is very wet and the landing is interesting: I feel the wheels aquaplane for a while as they spin up before biting and pulling the aircraft straight. Not dangerous, just interesting.
No taxying on the grass, so I let the aircraft roll all the way down the runway before gently easing in brakes at the far end. Taxy in, shut down and breathe a sigh of relief.
A final signature and it's In The Bag. Everyone wants to shake my hand. I'm nearly a Grown-up Pilot. And the radio is to be replaced.

Lesson 48 PFL Hell
Pre-skills-test revision is the order of the day. Flying conditions are perfect, so off we go for some local area work. We're going to scare the residents of some little villages near Banbury again.
We start with steep turns, so after a HASELL check we go round and round and round.... Apart from forgetting to feed the power in as we pass 30° of bank the first time I'm OK.
Next on to stalls. We're taught to fly pretty conservatively with respect to stalls: the aircraft actually stalls at about 50Kt clean and about 40-45Kt with 2 stages of flap, but we're taught to fly the approach at 75Kts so we're miles away from the stall at all times even in the turn to Final. So it seems strange and abusive to keep on pulling the stick back until the aircraft wallows. Finally it reluctantly tries to drop a wing and we recover. Not hard and there's plenty of warning.
So on to Practice Forced landings. I'm rusty on these, fail to make the proper post-engine-failure-checks, fail to trim for 75Kt (actually a good rule is that 4 quick flicks back on the trim wheel and you're approximately there), fail to make a simulated Mayday call, fail to identify a suitable field, fail to then make that field, and generally just screw it all up.
Second time around is marginally better: at least I'm doing the right things in the cockpit this time, but we still miss the field by miles. Third time it's still all over the place. Fourth time it's still not good: I keep misjudging, either too high or too low and and we're running out of time. More thought and practise is clearly needed here.
We recover back to the field for a straight-in approach with lots of balloon on the landing, my nerve is so shot. Will I ever be able to get everything right?

Lesson 49 Visiting the muddy field
Following yesterday's depressing realisation that I really didn't know how to plan, let alone execute, a PFL, I've spent a day reading up on techniques and we have thoroughly pre-flighted. Today the weather is even better: nil wind, very cold but beautifully bright and no haze. We will be doing nothing but PFLs.
We start off by cutting the engine at 3,000ft and seeing how far the aircraft will go in a straight line before hitting the ground. That's a good start to judge distances (and it's not very far.....).
Then we practice curved approaches from various heights. Like many things in flying, it's one thing to read the book, another entirely different thing to actually fly it. Also, it's best to work out a simple system that works for you rather than try to use someone else's method. After some experimentation, we conclude that upon engine failure it's best to immediately turn downwind, find a field under the left wing and perform a long U-shaped left turn in to it, keeping it in sight at all times and aiming to land approximately in to wind. Too low? Tighten the turn. Too high? Expand the turn or use flaps, but remember that height lost cannot be clawed back. Of course, in strong wind conditions the Final approach needs to be shortened, but if you build a bit of extra height in and expect to use flaps then the strong wind will just mean you don't have to use flaps, rather than you hitting the trees.
All the fields we choose are muddy as hell: I suspect that in the event of a real engine failure I'd turn the aircraft over on landing, but at least the Master switch would be off and the speed would be low.
We practice down to very low levels: you can't really tell whether your approach is going to work until you're virtually flaring. We only do one approach and climb away per field, so as not to upset the neighbours! Strictly, this has to be illegal, as you're not allowed to fly lower than 500ft, but I decided my Instructor's licence was less important than my learning......
This becomes great fun and my confidence improves hugely as I do survivable PFL after survivable PFL. The weather is fantastic and this is real flying: popping about the countryside and seeing the sights. We wander all over Warwickshire, up and down. I'm pleased to find that even without a map I am not lost: I can pick up the main landmarks and I know where we are most of the time.
We finally pop up near Enstone and fly a Right Base approach. I haven't done one of these before, but they are very easy, and I set up a nice long Final for a reasonable flare, then make the old mistake of landing on the mains and the nosewheel together: a very bad habit indeed. Still, a nice smooth landing.
This has been a very useful exercise and I feel a great deal happier about engine failures now, although the real thing has to be pretty buttock-clenching! But at least I now have a plan. I will aim to practice these regularly on solo flights.

Lesson 50 No! Not that one! I need it to fly by....
Arriving early on a glorious December afternoon we are treated to an impromptu display of aerobatics over the airfield by an ex-RAF aerobatic Instructor. He does things with an aircraft even I didn't think were actually possible (like inverted negative G outside horizontal circles...) for about 20 minutes before retiring to the circuit, presumably out of fuel!
The last thing you get to learn before your PPL exam (and they do it last because you need to learn to fly properly first....) is Instrument flying so that if, on your travels, you happen to wander in to a cloud, you have a reasonable certainty of being able to turn the aircraft 180° and get in to clear air again without spiralling in to the ground.
This lesson happens in glorious December VFR 9999 NoSig conditions so we need Foggles: goggles that stop you being able to see outside but still allow you to see the instruments.
We start by learning to fly straight and level on just the instruments, which is surprisingly difficult and requires a lot of concentration. Then we move on to climbs and descents (easy) and finally to 180° turns to an opposite compass bearing. Actually, whilst keeping the height steady is a bit of a challenge this is not too difficult, but the trick is to trust absolutely the instruments, regardless what your lying little inner ear tells you.
Having done several of these and got reasonably proficient at them my confidence is growing.... until my kind Instructor reaches over and plasters a piece of sticky white paper over the Artificial Horizon.
"Partial Panel failure" he says. "And I want you to descend to 2,000ft and fly a heading of 210°
Now how the hell am I going to fly this? Well, using the vertical speed indicator, Direction Indicator, airspeed indicator, turn and bank and altimeter. That's how.
A fair amount of inference later I mange to comply.... until he reaches over and blanks the DI as well.
"Oh dear, that seems to have failed as well....."
So we use the compass instead, letting it settle after each manoeuvre. Then he blanks the airspeed indicator, so I have to use the rev counter and the vertical speed indicator. By this time I'm sweating a bit.
I also notice it's beginning to get very gloomy indeed around the aircraft. We continue with turns and descents for some time until he finally asks me to remove the foggles and lo and behold, there's the runway, all lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Now land it"
"What, with no airspeed indicator?"
"I'll bet you never look at it anyway; you go by sound and feel"
And he's right, and we do a pretty reasonable night approach. He follows through on the flare as first-time night landers tend to misjudge this, and we're down between the paths of light for post-landing checks and some petrol.
What fun...... my first partial panel failure night landing.

Now it's on to Revision.

Lesson 51 Everyone has bad days
It's another late December afternoon, cold and bright. We start late, so the sun is already going down. Today we will revise circuits.
The aircraft is warm and has just flown (we virtually kick the previous occupants out) so starts easily. We taxy out and take-off. I'm careful to keep everything shipshape, keep a good look-out, be accurate with heights and distances and make like I know what I'm doing with the radio.
On the first approach I'm a bit high turning Final, so I come off the power early and perform virtually a glide approach. I try too hard to be flaring as we cross the numbers but have too much energy. I underflare, the aircraft doesn't properly arrest its rate of descent and we thump down hard.
"Well, that'll have the examiner on the edge of his seat"
Gulp.
Carb heat and flaps away, throttle and right rudder, back in to the air. This one Will Be Better.
Second time around and I'm better set up on the approach, lower and more in control, and I do a landing that is more representative of my normal skills.
I do some pretty reasonable landings several more times until it gets dark and we decide to land off the last one. Just as I'm flaring, for some unfathomable reason I release the back pressure a bit too much and the aircraft lurches. I just catch it and we plop on to the runway .
"What the hell was that about?"
Gulp again.
The conclusion is that my landings are a little "inconsistent", which to be fair is an accurate representation of what just happened. Landings are definitely my weak point and always have been. When I'm good, I'm good, but when I'm not, it's rough. And I never quite know whether this one's going to be a rough one. More practice required, definitely, although he thinks the rest of my circuits are fab.
As the skills test looms closer, unlike the first solo I think they are keener than I for me to take it. I don't feel ready in a few areas, yet. Getting very nervous.....