Refresher flight

Goals:

• Brief, fun local flight.
• Takeoff and landing practice.

Flight:
Husband sauntered into my office this afternoon around quarter after five, sat down, looked out the window and said, "Man, looks like a nice day for flying." I've been married to him long enough to know what that means! Ten minutes later we were on our way home to pick up the flight bag and camera.

The plan for the evening would be for me to knock the dust off. It had been a little over three weeks since I flew, and the last flight wasn't good. We were coming back from down South for a family visit, and I had taken off and was going to fly for the first leg. We weren't 500' AGL when some turbulence started kicking us around, and while I've flown in enough chop for it to not be unsettling (hello, checkride?), I was borderline panic-stricken! I could not explain it, but almost immediately I had to pass control over to Husband. It was a terrible feeling then, and really shook my confidence that I would react so strongly, so quickly to conditions that really weren't that bad. I've thought about it so much, and honestly can't come up with anything better than "hormones" as an explanation. Had I been alone, I would have stayed in the pattern, landed and deplaned. (And no, I didn't blog about it; I haven't been able to make sense of it.)

I'll just tell you the ending for this evening's flight first -- it was a good, easy flight with no strange feelings and mostly decent work.

As we rode to the airport, I couldn't help but be apprehensive. The memory of the terrible and inexplicable feelings from a few weeks prior mixed with the knowledge that I haven't had any real practice in about a month left me feeling, well, just apprehensive. I didn't say anything to Husband because my intention was for it to be a good flight and I knew he'd be able to take over at any time should we have a repeat.

Blah, blah, blah... My feelings this, my feelings that. Rant on myself. Ok, stream of consciousness over.

Preflight was good. Husband snapped a few pics of the shiny new 4-hour-old tach. We decided to go to PHF (towered) for two stop-and-go landings. Husband showed me his new leaning technique (throttle to 1500, lean until it starts to drop, enrichen to stabilize it -- this left the mixture rod out about the length of my pointer finger up to the second knuckle). We taxied out to 13 and departed with a nice normal takeoff and a climb just to the west of the power station.

Once we were clear of the power station and at 2600' MSL (clear of Fort Eustis' airspace), we pointed toward PHF. I called them when we were over the dead fleet to let them know where we were and that we had info Quebec. He told me to report a 2-mile left base for 7. I had a bit of confusion making out the airport. I know PHF, but I've never used 7-25, had never approached from this angle, and it was hazy enough that I couldn't quite pick out the V-shaped runways from where we were, so I was a little off-kilter not being able to immediately visualize the approach plan.

Once we passed Fort Eustis and officially entered PHF's airspace, I began my descent, pulling power out for a fairly aggressive sink rate (5 nm from the airport (center) with 2600' to lose). As I turned onto base I called the tower, who cleared me for #2 behind a Cessna on final doing a touch-and-go, then instructed me to make right traffic for the second landing and report midfield downwind. I repeated the clearance, kept the descent, and grinned a teensy bit as a regional jet announced he was ready at 7 to depart. (Typically at PHF, 7-25 is the big plane and commercial traffic runway and 2-20 is the GA runway.) The tower told him to hold for me. The grin wasn't because we were making him wait, but rather that I felt like I was really part of the system, not just some student gumming up the works.

Anyway, feelings again, eh?

I turned final and Husband supplied the requested 20 degrees of flaps. My airspeed was good, holding just under 70 mph and it was a pretty decent landing, despite the wacko visual cues of such an enormous runway. So's to minimize the time on the ground, Husband pulled in the flaps while I brought us to a stop and put the carb heat cold; the rest of the post-landing checklist didn't apply since we were going right back up.

With gradual full throttle, we were on our way again. Shortly we reached 1000' and were at midfield before I knew it. Another call to the tower and we were again cleared #2 for 7 (this time for the option) behind the same Cessna who was doing another touch-and-go. I repeated and stated "cleared for a stop-and-go." This time around I got to do a more standard approach, starting my descent with flaps abeam the numbers and so forth. It should have been a good landing, but alas... I got slow really high and the stall warning came on. I mean, probably 50' up still. Runway 7 is enormous, so missing the numbers by half a mile would still leave plenty of room for lil' 388 to land just fine. I put in a little power and relaxed some back pressure. The horn stuttered off-and-on for the rest of the descent, and we landed quite firmly. It wasn't pretty, but it also wasn't a bouncer. I suppose I'd sum it up as a clumsy landing. Husband instinctively grabbed the yoke, and I told him I had it... actually, my memory could totally be wrong but I think he grabbed it after we touched down. I'll have to ask him about that.

We cleaned up expeditiously and again departed. Straight-out, after listening to an incoming aircraft's call from somewhere out ahead of us, I told PHF I'd like to depart straight-out then return to JGG. He, bored, okayed that. We turned off to go up the peninsula, keeping an eye out for the incoming traffic. After a few minutes, PHF alerted us that the plane should be no factor at 2000' off our right wing. We were at 2600 by then, and Husband picked out the other plane with ease.

He wanted to try a simulated engine loss on takeoff to see what the sight-picture would be for attaining the recommended 80-mph glide for that emergency in that configuration. As we neared a field, I set the trim for takeoff, pitched us up and went full throttle. As we slowed to Vy, we stabilized and then pulled the throttle (and carb heat) out. The nose quickly pitched itself over -- no leaning forward on the yoke from either of us -- and before long we were nearing 100 mph. The training mag articles all emphasize how (1) imperative the response and (2) extreme the nose-down are for an engine failure on takeoff. Perhaps it depends on when during takeoff the failure occurs, because our Vy is 83 mph, and best glide is 80, and it did not require an extreme input from us at all. Had we been climbing at Vx (65), well, I still am not sure since the plane pointed itself down so rapidly.

With that exercise behind us, we returned to 2500' and continued the scan for traffic into the setting sun through the haze (super for perceived visibility) as we approached JGG. Winds were reported to be calm, and an airport advisory indicated to land 31. We overflew Busch Gardens and Husband called out the rides he saw and what they were doing; some folks were down there having a nice (albeit chilly) evening!

At home base we crossed midfield to enter left downwind for 31. I felt way wide, so I brought my downwind in a little tighter, but then my base ended up way short and I overshot final. It wasn't awful, and I'm comfortable maneuvering back to centerline, so I chose not to scrap the landing. I was lined up and doing ~80, whereas 70ish would have been more appropriate for that stage. I pulled the power, and just then the swamp monster gave us a little jab. I put a touch of power back in to get us through it with a little more force and accepted that we'd land long; it was all still well within limits. I was not keeping centerline very well, and part of my effort was diverted to recovering that. As we got down into the runway environment, we were still way fast so I went to idle and tried to fly just over the pavement while bleeding off airspeed. I didn't want to pull back much for fear of ballooning, so I tried to ride it out. Unfortunately, my height judgment is, aside from being rusty and aside from being quintessentially feminine, not spectacular and we flew onto the runway. Not the good kind of "greased it" "flew onto the runway," but rather planted it with resolve onto the runway. The angle was shallow enough that no bounce or ouchy resulted... well, actually, we did have a flicker of a nosewheel shimmy, but nothing like the jaw-rattling shimmies we experienced before the dampener and wheel were replaced.

We rolled out, cleaned up, called for fuel, shut down and went home. As we left the airport, we stopped to snap a few pics of the beautiful sunset.



Despite having two firmer-than-satisfactory landings, all-in-all it was a really good flight. I got more airtime. Husband got to be my passenger and we got to go together. Well, the whole family got to go! And perhaps most importantly, I demonstrated that whatever that panic situation was three weeks ago, it was an isolated event and not some new gonna-be-a-mommy-so-must-eliminate-all-risk subconscious freak-out policy.

Discussion:

1. Co-pilots: Having a co-pilot, or a pilot-not-flying, is great. It's really good and reassuring to know he's there and can help. Husband is quite talkative in-flight (honey, that's not a complaint!) and it generally helps me to continue learning. He knows the things that irk me, and can tailor his pointers around those!


2. Power and landings: Landing #2 at PHF saw too little power; we had bookoos of room and a whining stall horn. More power would have stretched out the descent and eased that landing. The landing at JGG had too much power; I had deliberately put it in to get past El Chupacabre but left it in quite longer than I should have, making it an unnecessarily long landing.

Hours logged this flight: 0.9
Hours logged total: ?
Take-offs and landings this flight: 3
Take-offs and landings total: ?
PIC (solo) hours total:: ?