Wait, I just wrote one of these posts… yeah, that’s what I get for procrastinating, I just end up with twice the work when I do get off my butt. Anyhoo, when we last met about five minutes ago, I’d just wrapped up a rather challenging night + instrument flight. Luckily, the follow-up to this was another milestone for me: my long solo cross-country flight. Originally this was going to happen the previous weekend, but weather issues kept me from venturing off to parts unknown. And since this flight, by its very nature, requires an extended block of time, the weekend was really my only option unless I wanted to use a personal day at work. So Sunday the 21st became my new target date, and I spent the days prior eyeing the weather while simultaneously fingering a rabbit’s foot with crossed fingers and knocking on any wood object within a five-mile radius. Whether due to my superstitious overload or not, the weekend turned out great- blue skies, calm winds, and temperatures in the 60s. (sadly, as I write this, we’ve plunged back below freezing again… Mother Nature is such a tease)
In the meantime, I was loosely planning out my flight. I knew one of my destinations would be Chattanooga, TN; my parents were in town and I wanted to take my father out for a birthday dinner. I decided not to go to CHA, the big airport, instead opting for the much smaller Dallas Bay Skypark, which was just a few miles from my parents’ house and thus much more convenient for them. I was somewhat familiar with this airport, having lived in Chattanooga for about a year myself, but I’d certainly never flown into it. The single runway measured a mere 3000′ x 50′, a fair bit smaller than the acres of asphalt I’ve become used to.
Sunday morning, after reviewing my flight plan with Scott, I headed out to the ramp to prep the plane, an experience that’s still pretty new. As I mentioned before, the weather was beautiful, and I was by no means the only person at PDK taking advantage of it. After I’d started the plane and taxied to the edge of the ramp, it took a full five minutes to get a word in on the ground frequency. I could see no less than four planes in the runup area at 20R as I waited. Busy, busy, busy.
Finally, I got permission to taxi, and it wasn’t long before I was airborne and turning northwest. At altitude I found that I had a bit of a tailwind, despite the forecast seeming to indicate a headwind on the way up… but you can’t really argue with that. The flight up went quickly, and before long I was turned over to Chattanooga Approach. I was a bit curious how they’d vector me through the airspace, since 1A0 was about ten miles north of CHA. As it turned out, they sent me a bit to the west of the airport, but also kept me at 5000′ until I was north of the airport- only then did they approve a descent at my discretion. First bit of difficulty- I was only about six miles from 1A0, with a good 3500′ to lose. I elected to fly out to the north a bit to get my altitude down.
I had previously reported having 1A0 in sight and been released from Approach, but once I got down near pattern altitude, I couldn’t see the airport any more! And there wasn’t a bit of traffic to help me get my bearings, but luckily I did have the GPS, so I knew the direction to 1A0. I was able to head back in on a course that would allow me to join the downwind for runway 5. Winds were calm, so I could have chosen either direction, but 23 has a 700′ displaced threshold, and given a choice, I’d rather keep that runway ahead of me for an increased stopping margin.
As I turned final, I spotted the obstacle I’d seen mentioned on Airnav: a nice big oak tree maybe 1000′ from the end of the runway. This was fairly easy to stay clear of, I just kept to the right of the centerline until I’d cleared it, and even then, I probably had adequate altitude to get over it. Then I was down to the ground, and it was time to flare… and here, things went awry. My best guess is that the narrow runway threw off my height estimate; whatever the reason, I touched down before really even getting into my flare. Boing…boing…..boing…..BOING… yeah, this isn’t going to work at all, time to go around. As I was retracting the flaps and getting into my climb, I noticed a man beside the runway pointing what looked like a camera at me. Undoubtedly my father. Good to know that that hideous landing was recorded for all to see later. Circuit #2 was much better, and this time I pulled off a nice full-stall landing. Got on the brakes hard, then quickly surmised that I had plenty of runway to get stopped. After parking in the wrong place- blocking the gas pump, no less- we piled into the car and went off to a nice Italian lunch.
I had hoped to be able to spend a bit of time with the family, but between getting in the air later than expected at PDK and having a long lunch, there wasn’t much to do but troop back to the airport with my parents, my brother, his wife, and my niece in tow. We sat for a bit on the nice benches outside the FBO, and watched a nice-looking Apache and a little single I couldn’t identify take off… and then it was time for me to get ready to leave.
The flight back was uneventful as well- I made my required second stop in Dalton, GA, on what looked like about ten miles of runway after Dallas Bay. A quick restroom stop and then it was on south to PDK. All told, I racked up an even 3 hours in the air, putting me over my required hours of solo cross-county- another requirement off the list. Besides the requirement, it was nice to take a flight up to visit with family, even at the expense of my dignity- nothing like having the first landing your father sees be really ugly. He claimed he thought I was showing off and doing a touch & go, but I’m not sure I believe him. Heh.
It’s looking like I’m only a few flights away from going for my checkride!
