from the right seat

People often use the phrase “it’s just like riding a bike” to describe a skill that does not tend to atrophy with time. So when I saddled up on a recumbent bicycle yesterday, I thought to myself, how difficult can this possibly be? It’s just another two-wheeled land vehicle.

My friend who owns the bike — and who also happens to be a flight instructor — insisted upon giving me a bit of “dual instruction and a checkout” before taking it for a spin solo around the neighborhood, to avoid a possible trip to the emergency room. Now I understand why. This is no ordinary bicycle. Sure, it has two wheels driven by a chain and pedals, handlebars with hand brakes, and a way to shift gears. But the reclined seating position, combined with the fact that the front tire is positioned aft of the pedals, changes the feel of the controls and the center of gravity enough that you really do need to re-learn how to ride a bike on this bike.

It’s been, oh, probably five or six years since I’ve ridden a regular bicycle. I was rusty, and spent most of my time just trying to rediscover my balance. The experience of trying to make this seemingly simple vehicle propel forward over the ground without crashing made me think about the requirements that pilots must meet in order to keep flying — and how bare bones the minimum requirements really are.

A private pilot needs only fly one hour with an instructor every two years in order to be legal to fly solo in an airplane on a clear day; to take a passenger up for a ride, the pilot must also have made three takeoffs and landings within the preceding three months. That’s really not a whole lot of experience, and most people wisely do much more than that in order to feel safe and comfortable, not just meet the letter of the law. (The regulations for other types of pilots, including those who are authorized to fly in the clouds, are more stringent, but this gives you a sense of what’s required.)

So as I sat there wobbling around on this strange bicycle yesterday evening, I was humbled by how difficult it must be for a pilot to climb back into the cockpit after a long hiatus. It made me appreciate just how important it is for us pilots to keep our skills sharp. If riding this recumbent bicycle was not like riding a normal bicycle, then flying an airplane is definitely not like riding a bicycle!

Today was a very special day for my student, Mike, who passed his Private Pilot check ride in the Cessna 182 he bought a little over a year ago. His son, Adam, also learned to fly in that airplane with me in the right seat. They are part of a family of pilots, including Mike’s sister. I’m sure they are all going to have a lot of fun this summer!

Congratulations, Mike, and be safe up there.

I’m typing this from the cool shade of a large airplane hangar in southern Wisconsin, typing on my iPhone while the Thunderbirds blast off into the sunshine. I’m here to share the time honored aviation tradition of an air show–a singular genre of event that brings pilots together as friends. We arrived in a gleaming, polished silver 1957 Beech 18. I flew it for about an hour while the owner munched on a sandwich. What an amazing feeling it was to sit in the cockpit of such an incredibly beautiful work of art. We are parked next to a 1944 DC-3.

Over the last 48 hours I’ve met so many pilots and heard their stories of success and disappointment. But today we are celebrating the achievement of Doug the dirtbike racer, who passed his Commercial pilot checkride yesterday. He arrived this morning in his Cessna 182, with a big smile on his face. Sharing in his joyful moment is part of what makes aviation so great. It’s about community.

My heart was filled with joy on Wednesday night after completing my first flight lesson with this charming and incredibly intelligent young woman, whose next challenge in life is learning to fly this little red and white Cessna 152. She is very motivated, and I sense that we’re off to a great start.

To celebrate her foray into the sky, she asked her boyfriend to hoist her into the air in front of the airplane. (They’re competitive gymnasts.) She then proceeded to do a back flip on the ramp. I’d never seen anything quite like it. Her positive energy enveloped me, and added to the reservoir of good vibes I’m steadily filling up with each passing day. I am really looking forward to helping this very special person achieve her goal.

It’s amazing when things change right before your eyes, and your eyes are open wide enough to notice.

The weekend kicked off on Saturday morning, when I flew with an instrument student who’s been struggling a bit the last few lessons. For whatever reason he had his magic a-ha moment, and flew several approaches partial panel without skipping a beat, concluding with a soft as butter, simulated engine out landing. That made us both feel really good. One of my greatest joys as a flight instructor is helping my students gain confidence in their abilities, which then fosters better performance and learning. My job is to nurture that good vibe and encourage him to keep moving forward toward his goal.

On Sunday morning, I witnessed another metamorphosis — the unearthing, literally, of my yard. I hired a contractor to remove an old stump and vines from my flower beds, and after that was completed, I planted a bunch of petunias and marigolds. The place is starting to look really nice after being covered in two feet of snow and neglected all winter. While I was working in the back yard, setting some more flowers in the planters on my deck, I came across the little guy in the photo above — a baby praying mantis (or at least that’s what he looks like). He just sat there, quietly observing me while I worked. I didn’t bother him and he didn’t bother me.  I smiled, and enjoyed playing in the dirt, to the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

Later yesterday afternoon I hosted a bridal shower for a dear girlfriend, who was a student of mine some years ago. She no longer flies due to health complications but remains very active in my circle of aviation friends, and does hope to return to the left seat one day. I have had the pleasure of watching her evolve into an incredibly happy, fulfilled and passionate woman, and I’m very proud to have her as a friend.

I asked the guests, most of whom were pilots, to bring with them a story from their personal flying experiences, to share with the bride to be, that speaks to the challenges and joys of marriage. I won’t relate these stories here, but I think the overriding message of the gathering was that we are all here for each other, in good times and in bad. We reminded her that she is never alone, that we are always here to support her, both on the ground and in the air. Her lucky man is also a budding pilot, so I have no doubt that the two of them will find a way to fly, somehow.

Congratulations, woman. You deserve only the best.

As I walked out of my house yesterday with M2 to begin our evening stroll around the neighborhood, I heard a rumble of thunder. My heart raced with excitement, because I love thunderstorms — the way they smell and sound, the way the wind feels against my face, the anticipation of the pounding rain, and most of all, the incredible images these powerful forces of nature create as they swell, crescendo and eventually fade.

I knew this was going to be a good one. I looked up and saw a massive roll cloud forming through the sight line between the trees that line my street. M2 quickly did his business and we ran back home. (I think dogs can sense the approach of a storm, too.) I ran because I was worried that my iPhone would get ruined by the rain (I was using it to check the Doppler radar), and also that I would miss the opportunity to grab my camera and shoot some pictures of the storm.

Fortunately this one took its time building and I was able to enjoy it from my front yard, and then when the rain started, from my backyard deck, which is partially covered. I no sooner opened the sliding door when the hail began to fall, loud, fast and furious — I hadn’t experienced hail in a very long time! It was fabulous. I inspected some hail stones and noticed that most were perfectly round, about 3/4 of an inch in diameter with a cloudy core and a clear exterior — they reminded me of Tootsie Pops.

But just as soon as it came, the storm passed and the sky darkened with the onset of the calm, quiet night. I slept peacefully. This morning I woke before dawn and watched the sky brighten into happy shades of blue, pink, orange and cream. Now, it’s time for another walk.

Come rest beside my little fire,
We’ll ride out the storm that’s coming in.
– Patty Griffin & Emmylou Harris

This weekend I had the pleasure of experiencing what might be considered two opposite extremes of flying: a long cross country trip in a glass cockpit Cirrus SR20, and a low-and-slow tumble through the turbulence on a breezy, warm afternoon in a light sport aircraft on floats. We met at Peachtree-Dekalb Airport and flew this little yellow amphibian to a nearby lake, where we spent a blissful hour exploring its topography from all possible vantage points. I felt like I was riding along during the filming of a Discovery Channel nature documentary as we zoomed along the shoreline with gentle waves breaking on the beach below.

It was some of the most relaxing and yet exhilarating flying I’ve ever done. The plane has two seats, one behind the other. Each person has a center control stick and rudder pedals available, but only the pilot sitting in front has access to the throttle and other necessary control items. Since I don’t yet have my seaplane rating I sat in the back, where I witnessed some of the best stick-and-rudder, seat-of-the-pants airmanship this side of Lake Superior. I always considered myself a decent pilot, but this guy operates on an entirely different plane, so to speak. I still have a lot to learn about flying — and I can already tell that it’s going to be a very fun ride.

I’m really looking forward to today’s IFR flight from Manassas, VA to Atlanta in a Cirrus SR20. I’ll be spending the weekend learning and sharing with an incredibly motivated and intelligent group of pilots. More later… filing a flight plan now, then out the door.

“Time to spare, go by air.” It’s a well known cliche and fact of life for general aviation pilots. Things break, the weather changes, and sometimes we get stuck on the ground. I got airborne in the Seminole today, but not for long. A minor equipment failure occurred, but a failure nonetheless, so we came back. I’ll try again tomorrow. Now, it’s time to go outside and get some exercise and enjoy this beautiful day!

Serendipity: An aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.

Yesterday was one of the stranger but better days I’ve ever had the pleasure of living, and the positive energy seemed to flow purely by chance. Or was it something else?

When I arrived at the airplane shortly before 6 p.m., my mind was swirling with numbers and procedures: accelerate stop distance, best single engine rate of climb, ball bank blueline, power up clean up, identify verify feather. I was ready to roll. Unfortunately, the airplane was not. Shortly after the engines were running, the alternator warning light came on and would not go out. My evening’s lesson, and this morning’s check ride, would have to wait until another day.

Slightly disappointed but completely understanding of the situation, I packed my things, called a friend and made an alternate plan for the evening. It turns out a friend of his from high school was in town to perform a benefit show for a friend of hers who is dying of cancer, and he asked me if I’d want to come along. He said we’d likely be out past midnight, but since I didn’t have to get up early to take my test this morning, I went along for the adventure.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was in for quite a special treat. The show featured some of the DC area’s best belly dancers and fire dancers — performance artists who create their work using their bodies, minds, music and one of nature’s basic elements, fire. The show was held at a small club in the city known for its freakish interior decorations, reminiscent of a carnival side show. But the performers were anything but freaks — they were very talented, and clearly very caring and passionate, individuals who were doing their part to support a friend in need.

I was mesmerized by these performers, especially the woman shown in this photo. With sultry new age jazz pumping through the speakers, she took the stage wearing beautiful bird feathers in her hair as she used the rhythmic and fluid movement of her hands and arms to draw her torch wands through the air. She looked as if she were flying. I’d never seen anything like it.

During intermission, I noticed a familiar face across the room. It was a fellow pilot and potential instrument student who I’d not seen in some months. As it so happens he and my friend each knew one of the performers, and it didn’t take long for the three of us to start talking about flying airplanes. The potential student said that he hopes to earn his rating by this summer so that he can fly his airplane out to Nevada for the Burning Man festival, which I’ve heard so much about. So many fun places to fly… so many interesting people to share the ride with.

While it would have been great to take my flight test this morning, I am really glad I got to experience a new art form and meet some new friends last night. You just never know what wonders life has in store around every corner.