Solo 11: First solo x-c

[Update: added pictures. Chuck -- I couldn't figure out how to make my camera include a timestamp actually on the image, but it's in the picture file's metadata, so I can Photoshop them in, but that kinda defeats the purpose of the timestamp!]

Goals:

• First solo cross-country flight, to airports at least 50 nm from home base.

Flight:
It was looking to be a spectacular day for my first x-c! This is on the way to the airport, waiting at a traffic light:


This flight started with Chuck and me sitting down in Charly's for 40 or so minutes so that I could brief him on my plans and we could chat about stuff. He asked for the sectional, which had my course drawn and highlighted with checkpoints circled. He asked for my nav logs, which had all headings, miles, times, fuel usage and wind calculations. He asked for the applicable airport diagrams. Everything was in order. I showed him my note cards with the different frequencies along the route that I might need for talking to FSS or with flight following, as well as the VORs with Morse code IDs that I could use throughout the course.

We talked briefly about my trip Monday to PHF. The main thing was that I have no limit for headwind because I don't need one; my judgment is good enough to make that call. The crosswind, however, is still a matter of inexperience for me and so I do have a limit on that. We talked about what would happen if I tuned in the AWOS at one of my x-c airports and found that the winds were beyond my endorsements; since we were talking about viable alternatives, I would be allowed to find another nearby airport with suitable conditions and land there, even though my endorsement only said LVL and OFP. Speaking of which, I almost walked out of the terminal to head to 388 without getting my logbook endorsed for the trip, but luckily remembered at the last second!

I was grinning, and I was jittery. The jitters were because my 5'6" girl body couldn't contain all the enthusiasm! Not that the coffee was helping matters... But I got down to 388, preflighted, pulled the chocks, and hopped in. Just before takeoff I fired up the handheld GPS to start the track, and away I went!

On my way south across the river to my first DR checkpoint (very close, only 5 or so minutes away), I called Leesburg FSS over the PHF frequency of 122.2. I chose that one so that I wouldn't have to transmit over one freq and listen over a different one; Harcum and Hopewell VORs are nearby and are remotes for Leesburg, but why bother if a unified freq is available? Flight plan open, check. Then I hit my checkpoint and changed course and set the timer for the second checkpoint: the town of Waverly, west of Wakefield. Then I called Norfolk approach for flight-following, got a squawk, and was immediately asked to switch over to Potomac approach. I figure since he new I was headed SW away from Norfolk, it would just be easier to get me out of his collection of responsibilities (not that he has much of that for a VFR flight-following engagement!).

My predicted time to Waverly was for 10.5 minutes. At about 12 minutes I was abeam the town, with it out my window. It seemed like I was looking more down than out at it, so I called that a hit for the first DR leg. The GPS track shows that it wasn't as near as I felt it was. So I snapped a picture of it and set up for my next leg, which was calculated to be 12 minutes. Since the first leg took a little longer, I was prepared to allow the second leg to be a few minutes longer as well.

So I flew along, keeping my heading, keeping the heading indicator in sync with the magnetic compass. I scanned a lot, took in the scenery, evaluated different forced-landing sites. Thirteen minutes went by, and I hadn't seen the next checkpoint: the town of Jarratt, with its factory and water tower nestled next to I-95 and railroad tracks. I-95 would be the big tip-off, and there had been no major roads yet.

Then fifteen minutes went by. I saw a dot of a town ahead, but began thinking that the plan wasn't working out as expected and started formulating alternatives. The obvious alternative would be to switch on the GPS. Another alternative would be to dial in the LVL VOR and either fly the radial that went through the airport, to the VOR and back if necessary depending on where I was at the moment, or use that VOR and another one to pinpoint my location, then refine the plan from there. The alternative I chose was to switch over to pilotage, but after scanning for identifying landmarks and finding nothing that really stood out, then checking the sectional for something that would stand out and finding nothing except an occasional tower across this portion of the route, I knew that wasn't going to work just that moment. During this time, however, that dot of a town was getting nearer, so I decided I'd circle it and see if it would disclose its identity to me, or give me a clue to find it on the sectional.

Ah, there was and interstate: I-95 is the only one in that region. There's a water tower. Could that be Lawrenceville, my destination?!?! What happened to checkpoint #3? Believing this to be Lawrenceville, I fired up the GPS to confirm; yep. At 21 minutes past checkpoint #2. Now a choice: how to find the airport. The sectional gave me clues to get me in the right direction. East of I-95, southeast of town, with runways 18/36 (and an intersecting turf strip) I'd know the orientation. So I did a big loop around the western edge of the city and flew up the southern side, keeping an eye out. After a minute or two, I really felt like I should have been able to see it, so I cued up the GPS to take me to KLVL, and there it was, just a few miles ahead. Just needed to be patient and I would have flown right over it. At this point I called Potomac approach to cancel flight-following.

Ok, whew. No one was answering UNICOM, and no one was self-announcing on CTAF, so I overflew the field to check out the windsock: 18 would be favored. After flying away from the airport for a little bit, I swooped back around to the right to enter a 45 for left downwind, then had a normal pattern and pseudo-short/soft-field landing (it's 3000', but what the hey); it was a steep 40-degrees-of-flaps final where I tried to be slow, but then kept the nose up to prevent the shimmy as much as possible. I pulled off the runway, cleaned up the plane, snapped my picture, got my materials organized for the next leg and rolled back out toward the runway to depart. I was expecting to back-taxi for 18, but in the 3 minutes that I was on the ground the wind had shifted and was favoring 36. That was more convenient, since I was at the approach end of 36, so I didn't complain!


Normal departure. The plan was to fly northward until I picked up the 042 radial from LVL VOR. I did depart to the north, and expected to have time to talk to FSS and get flight following. I think the FSS operator was the same guy I had talked to earlier, and he closed my JGG-->LVL flight plan for me and wished me a good flight. I thanked him and asked him to open the next flight plan for me, and I was set to go. Potomac approach gave me a new squawk and had me on radar.

Then my attention shifted to getting on the radial. A NOTAM had advertised that the 042 radial was unusable along this Victor airway up to the DALTO intersection, just past which I'd be turning up to the Flat Rock VOR -- I was prepared for this possibility, or as Agent Smith would say, this inevitability, and had a back-up plan for using the RIC VOR on the other end of the airway. The VOR indicator was very confusing. I did not expect to be on the 042 radial yet, so I was still going generally north. During this time, the needle was swinging from left to right, which didn't make sense to me. It was possible that I was too close to the VOR, so I decided that I'd turn to 042 and fly that for a few minutes until I could expect to be away from the overly-sensitive region of the VOR, then it would probably stabilize and I could do something with it.

But it still didn't make any sense. It was on the left, so I drove toward the left. It wasn't changing, wasn't changing, wasn't changing, then all of a sudden swung all the way to the right, then bounced back to slightly left of center. Eh? So I turned a little each way to see what it would do, and it just didn't behave as I expected. Next, I tried a dramatic turn to the right, and it would twitch some to the left and some to the right. Ok, time to give up on that one. I dialed in the RIC VOR, verified the code, and turned back to the NW to pick up its outbound 223, the other end of the Victor airway. As you can see from the track, that went fine!

Approaching Richmond, flight following was proving its worth. It was a busy day (busy by my one-plane-every-fifteen-minutes-is-normal standards), and the good people at Potomac approach alerted me to a bunch of other traffic as I made my way to OFP. Before my big left turn south of Richmond, they announced another Cessna "orbiting" at my altitude 4 nm off my 11 o'clock. I found it and called that I had the traffic. A minute or so later I was tuning in the Flat Rock VOR in preparation for turning up towards it, and when I looked back up I had lost the Cessna. I scanned for a moment, glanced at the VOR indicator and saw that I was on the radial. I told Potomac approach that momentarily I'd be turning up that way and had lost the traffic; they came back to say the traffic was behind me, no factor. Ok, yay!

Up to FAK VOR I went, taking in the sites, watching a shiny Beechcraft descend into Richmond, looking out for the regional jets and commuter planes coming and going. Another aircraft was being handled by Potomac approach by the ID of "388V", so it was back to full tail number for me. This leg was pretty easy. As maintaining the needle on the VOR indicator in a perpendicular orientation became more difficult, I knew I was getting near the VOR. I set the OBS for 065, the radial that would take me to Hanover, then started a shallow bank to the right. I expected to roll out in the vicinity of the radial on a heading of 065, then scooch around as necessary to align just right while moving away from the sensitive spot. And that's pretty much what happened.

Once I got situated, I scanned and checked the local landmarks. A nice big obvious granite quarry just north of a river was right outside my window. That was clearly marked on the sectional, confirming where I believed I was. Off to the right (east and southeast) I could see the tall buildings of downtown Richmond.

This leg of the trip would be relatively short, and it was only a few minutes after that turn that a lady controller with Potomac approach called to say that Hanover was 10 nm directly in front of me and that I could start my descent anytime. That seemed a little weird to me, so I wondered whether it was really a gentle nudge to cancel flight following. I thanked her and cancelled.

Hanover stood out pretty well: a nice big runway in a nice big clearing next to I-95, lots of planes and hangars and buildings on the airport grounds on the southwest side. A lady with a great voice answered my request for an airport advisory, then asked whether I'd need fuel or anything. I know I was smiling when I told her I was a student on my first solo x-c so I'd land, take a picture of the terminal and then depart, and you could hear her smile when she wished me a great flight and said to let her know if there was anything she could do.

I wasn't super happy with my descent; I was still about 400' above pattern altitude when I wanted to get on the 45 for left downwind for 34. Since the only other plane around was a fella preparing to depart straight-out, I called that I'd do a left 360 to drop altitude and enter the 45. I rolled out right on the 45 at my target altitude, and was pleased as punch that it worked out correctly. :) The pattern and landing were normal.

After negotiating a nosewheel shimmy while slowing, I pulled off the runway and cleaned up then called the lady to ask whether the terminal or another building had the airport name on it that I could use for my picture. She guided me to the terminal with the blue awning, and had sent a lineman out to help me park. Not wanting to park, and not wanting to confuse the lineman who was giving me the signals, I called her back (hoping he could hear as well) and asked if it would be okay for me to just turn around in the big open spot in front, snap the pic from inside, and carry on. It was, and so it was done! Two down!

Before reclaiming the runway, I popped out a power bar and drank some water. The excited energy was keeping me going, but it had been about 6 hours since the morning bagel, so it was time for more nourishment. I got my papers in order for the next leg, which wasn't much since this was going to be primarily a pilotage leg after using the HCM VOR to ensure I'd be north of the RIC airspace; unfortunately, I didn't feel there was enough on the sectional that I'd be able to rely on for that without going a fair distance out of the way. In any case, the plan was to depart straight-out, turn east, pick up the radial and head home.

The departure was normal. As I ascended, I called FSS again and I swear it was the same fella again! I closed the LVL->OFP plan and opened OFP->JGG. I lowered the nose to clear for traffic, and was surprised to see the Eiffel Tower ahead. It's an attraction at Paramount's King's Dominion amusement park, one of the landmarks we used on our trip to Luray a few weekends back. I checked the sectional to see just how far north of Hanover I had gone, and was actually a little surprised; I figured maybe 5 or 6 miles, but it was more like 10. I had intended to turn off to the east earlier. No biggie, I turned and continued my climb, then picked up flight-following again.

When nav2 had the Harcum VOR frequency set, I turned up the volume and heard lots of static and a weak woman's voice giving what sounded like an ATIS report. Odd... Being too far from HCM and perhaps close to some other signal that uses the same frequency was the best I could come up with to explain it. I'll have to check the sectional to see if that's realistic. Since I was in doubt about when I could turn to a southerly heading, I continued to fly east clear of RIC. It wasn't long before I could see water features on the horizon; no doubt the river above the York (Rappahanock, maybe?). I tried HCM again and this time could hear the Morse code through the clutter. Since this leg was pilotage and I was confident I had succeeded in avoiding RIC, the question of whether the HCM signal would be reliable given the other mess on the frequency didn't receive much consideration. I dialed in the 137 that I had intended to fly, and the indicator pegged right, as I expected. I maneuvered to get on it, and it made sense. Now that I was on it, time to ignore it and go back to pilotage!

The landmarks were fun. The York River is fed by a decent sized creek for a while, and some power lines cross it; check. At that landmark, I turned off south and saw the big West Point factory off to the left; check. Before long, there was a collection of water spots that may or may not have been connected, but that are labeled as "5 Lakes" on the sectional and are distinguishable from the rivers and creeks of the area; check. Staying on that heading took me down to the Chickahominy, and the only pocket of turbulence I encountered on the whole trip. Home, sweet home!


Chickahominy feeding into the James.


AWOS indicated 13 for landing. When I was about 6 miles SW of the field approaching Jamestown Island, a plane called for the third or fourth time for an airport advisory, and since UNICOM hadn't answered, I figured he might learn something from my intentions, so I announced my position and that I was inbound for right traffic for 13. He rogered that and said he was crossing the James and would enter right downwind for 13. I found him and would be safely behind him when I entered the 45.

Normal pattern, normal landing -- although a bit bobbly on short final -- and I was home with a successful first solo x-c under my belt, and a long one at that!

Discussion:

1. Being alone: Being alone for that long wasn't scary. I had 8ish hours of solo time before this trip to get used to having all the responsibility, plus having flight following is at least a little reassurance that someone knows where you are (or were) if something was to go wrong. I have to admit that with the persisting nosewheel shimmy and the precautionary statements that the purpose of nosegear is to keep the prop off the ground, that's the thing that mechanically gave me the most unrest: the idea of landing at a remote airport and having the nosegear break followed by a prop strike followed by me in hysterics trying to figure out how to get home and what to do about poor 388 was borderline intolerable. But like all risks, it came down to considering the likelikhood of a problem and using what actions I could to mitigate the risk.
   
   It was pretty cool to have all that time to myself, in fact. I prefer flying with Husband because it is safe and I'd always rather be with him than without. But I did feel like I was taking myself for a sight-seeing tour of the middle state, and that was neat. I was relaxed and enjoyed it.


2. Talking: Some switch must have flipped on Monday when I went to PHF and talked to ATC all by myself for the first time. Talking to FSS and the different approach controllers on this trip caused me no stress, no problems. It was easy and natural. The right things to say (at least, it all seemed right!) were always there, because it all goes with the situation.
   
   You know how "they" say that one of the main psychological benefits of sleeping and dreaming is to give your brain time to digest the day's events without the distraction of further observations or inputs? I kinda feel like that must be what happened for this topic with me. I was overthinking it, and so after my brain had time to process without me getting in the way it all fell into place. Not that it doesn't have room for improvement -- it obviously does! -- but it's good enough to be safe and effective, and experience will provide the rest.


3. Navigation: I learned a lot on this trip, and I've got more to work on, primarily when it comes to dead reckoning. When we get back from the holiday vacation, I'll probably make a little trip between all the local airports I'm allowed to fly to using just DR, and see if I can't nail it. If it still comes out poorly, I'll have to get more training on that because my prep skills will be suspicious.

Self-Assessment: I'm feeling good about my progress. This feels like a good milestone!

Flying
• Preflight, taxiing, normal/short-field/soft-field takeoff: Good.
• Maintaining airspeed, stalls, slow flight (VR/IR), maintain/change attitude/altitude/heading by instruments: Good.
• Recover attitude, altitude, heading by instruments: Acceptable.
• Forced landing: Good, need more practice.
• Forward slip:: Dunno, needs more practice.
• Pattern, normal landing, directional control after landing: Good.
• Radio work: Ok, will improve with practice.
• Crosswind landing: Improved.
• Short-field/soft-field landing: Improved.

Navigating
• ADF: Okay for an intro, needs practice.
• VOR: Needs practice.
• Dead Reckoning: Needs mega practice.

Next: Tomorrow afternoon or Sunday we expect to fly down to SC for Christmas. We'll get at least 6 hours of flight time in; "we" meaning I get aeronautical experience and Husband gets to log PIC hours. :) The last part of my training that's left is night flying.

• Night flight.
• Practicing everything.

Hours logged this flight: 2.
Hours logged total: 34.8
Instrument hours logged this lesson: 0
Instrument Hours logged total: 1.3
Take-offs and landings this flight: 3
Take-offs and landings total: 89 (this number seems wrong... must check logbook)
PIC hours total:: 11.7