Now, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.  The DA-20 is a great little aircraft, but it’s a two-seater.  A two-seater with a pretty small useful load.  Oh, and I should mention that I’m a big dude, 6′4″ and 250 pounds.  The end result is that me + DA-20 + full fuel leaves about 170 pounds for a passenger.  Seeing as how I like to share the fun of flying, that’s quite a restriction.  Additionally, after making a trip to the Florida Keys with a couple coworkers last April, I really wanted to make the next Keys trip a flying one.

All this culminated with a new horizon in renting for me: SkyBound Aviation.  SkyBound sports a significantly larger fleet than Advanced, including a passel of C172s, a couple of Pipers, and a Decathlon for good measure. (yeah, I’m eyeballing that taildragger for sure)  The Piper Archer II, of which SkyBound has two, is a pretty good cross-country aircraft; ~1100 pounds useful load, 48 gallons fuel capacity, cruise speed of 125 knots.  Not the fastest thing on the planet, but a good step up for a n00b like myself.  Some studying of the POH revealed that in terms of V-speeds, the Piper was quite similar to the Diamond.  Systems were a little different though; after spoiling myself with electric trim and flaps on the DA-20, it was time to go all manual in the Piper.  At least this plane has dual 430s, which are familiar territory after running the 530 in the DA-20.

So after a good bit of study and preparation, I arrived at PDK to do the deed.  As if knocking the rust off and learning a new airplane weren’t enough, there were also some decent winds at work, and I never did get that great with crosswind landings.  Still, my CFI for the day, Cindy, didn’t seem concerned as we drove to the ramp.  Preflight was straightforward, nothing really new here.  Entering the plane was definitely more of a chore than the Diamond; that canopy beats the single Piper door any day.  But once I settled into the left seat, I experienced a wondrous thing: legroom.  I was used to flying with my knees in the panel of the Diamond; here, I actually had to move the seat up to get full pedal travel.

Startup and taxi were uneventful as well, and before long, I was trundling onto 34 and coming in with the power.  With an additional 55 horses on tap over the Diamond, I was expecting to have to work a little harder on the right rudder to keep the Archer straight, but I was wrong, It was easy- I assume the nosewheel steering contributed to this.  She seemed a little more reluctant to get off the ground than the DA-20, but I suppose that’s not too surprising.  We turned northeast towards Lake Lanier and I climbed up to 3000′.

Once I was clear of the airspace, it was time for some slow flight and a few stalls.  Power back, flaps full, and I settled down to about 60 knots.  Cindy gave me a few turns, during which I struggled a bit to keep things coordinated.  Back on course, out comes the power, and it’s power-off stall time.  This was uneventful- horn sounds, throttle in, nose down, piece of cake.  The power-on stall, however, was a different story.  I went full throttle and nosed up what seemed like a significant amount, where I paused and watched the airspeed bleed off.  To my surprise, it settled down at about 80 knots.  Cindy chimed in my ear, “Now remember, this plane is hard to stall… give it some more backpressure.”  Finally, after the horizon had dropped out of sight, the horn came in and I put the nose down.  I ended up picking up about 1200′ during that maneuver!

After a couple of steep turns and a quick rectangular pattern over a field, it was time to head back to PDK and face the ultimate test.  Cindy reassured me that she was aware conditions were subpar, and I wouldn’t be judged too harshly given the conditions.  At that time, the winds were something like 10 gusting 15, quartering to the runway, giving me about a 7-11 knot crosswind component, about as much as I’d dealt with previously.  Entering the right base for 34, I ended up starting my descent too soon and getting pretty low, but a short level spell on final fixed that problem.  A little rudder and aileron got me square with the runway, and I maintained speed surprisingly well all the way down.  Power to idle over the numbers… wow, this thing sinks kind of fast, better get that flare going.  I had barely started my flare when, to my surprise, there was a chirp as the main touched down.  I braced myself for the bounce that inevitably followed this maneuver in the Diamond, but it didn’t happen, the Archer just stuck.  Somehow, I’d made my first ever landing in this thing a squeaker.  Wait, back to work, touch and go… flaps up, power in, airborne.

That landing was a pretty big confidence booster, maybe too much.  The second time around the pattern, I stayed on slope much better and was feeling good again.  But on short final, I caught a gust and had a squirrelly moment banking the airplane around, but got it collected.  I followed that by flaring too high, getting lazy on the rudder, and thumping down with a bit of a side load.  Ugh, and it started out so well… but this one was a full-stop and we were done.  Cindy seemed mostly unperturbed by my second landing performance, and informed me I was now good to go in the Archer!

I suppose I did decently given the confluence of factors that day: I’d gone five months with no PIC time, was learning a new airplane, and had bumpy weather and gusty crosswinds to boot.  One thing I really learned was how important familiarity with an airplane is.  After nearly 60 hours in the Diamond, I knew that thing like my own car; this much stick pressure to pitch or bank, this much throttle adjustment to fix that glide slope, etc.  While the fundamentals remain the same, it’s a different animal in the Piper; instead of instinctively making control inputs, it becomes a bit more trial-and-error.  On the other hand, the Archer is far more forgiving on touchdown.  That first premature touchdown would have sent the Diamond bounding back in the air.

At this point, I’m still not legal to carry passengers; I need one more landing to become current.  But even if I’d gotten that third landing, I wouldn’t be stuffing my friends in the Archer with me just yet.  I’m going to get in some more solo landing practice before then, preferably on a calm day so I can concentrate on figuring out what the plane wants.  I’ve already got her booked for this coming Saturday… I foresee many touch-and-gos in my future.

Oh, and a final note; despite my last post about the value of video, I didn’t get any for this flight.  I did pick up and ContoutHD bullet cam and a digital recorder for capturing comms last fall, but I elected to keep that complexity out of this flight.  I think it was a good decision.  They will be on board this Saturday, however, so stand by for some in-cockpit video.

The flight was plenty of fun for both of us, but I also got something new out of the flight- video footage.  My friend brought along a P&S still camera and used it to record lots of video.  I had no idea how much until he sent me the raw footage- about 35 minutes worth.  Initially, I only wanted the footage to compile a montage/flight video of sorts, which I did. (See the finished product here)

Making that video was a fun experience for me, but there was also a somewhat unexpected side effect- I got to watch and criticize my flying from a whole new perspective.  For example, I had no idea how horribly left of centerline I was getting on takeoff until I saw the view from the right seat.  I knew I wandered a bit from time to time, but thought I was doing OK… seeing the video made me consider it in a different light.  Same thing goes for landing- the one at LZU was kind of rough, and looks even more so when the camera takes a good jolt on touchdown.  It’s also very evident that I haven’t broken my habit of ceasing to fly the plane once it’s on the ground… I can’t even discern any time between the mains and nose gear touching down in either landing.  Not good.

After a bit of thought, this makes good sense to me.  When I’m flying, particularly in heavier-workload tasks like takeoff and landing, my attention is devoted more towards doing things and less towards evaluating myself.  Sure, I’ve gone back in my mind, reviewed a bad landing, and considered what I might have done wrong, but adding actual footage of my flying really seems to take that post-mortem process to the next level.  I can go back and see everything I did over and over.

What it comes down to is that I’m not satisfied being a mediocre pilot.  I’m aware that with the little time I have, it’s not necessarily surprising that I don’t grease the thing in every time, but I’m not going to excuse myself with that.  I want to be better, and anything that helps me with that goal is good for me.  As such, I’ve spent a few evenings researching cameras, and I think I’m going to shortly pick up a ContourHD cam to mount in the cockpit, with which I’ll record all my flights for later analysis.  At the same time, I also want to get a digital recorder and figure out how to patch it into the comm system… that way I can have some context for the footage.

In short, I’ve become a big believer in video as a training tool.  If you’re looking for a way to improve your training, I recommend giving it a try.

To rewind a bit, I don’t think I ever really detailed my headset purchase earlier this year. We’ll start with the beginning- probably like most students, I started out using whatever loaner the school had around. That was satisfactory for a few flights, but it didn’t take long for me to start desiring something better. I didn’t need a depth of experience to know that after about 30 minutes, the loaner headset started making my jaw hurt. Really uncomfortable.

I started out intending to buy a tried and true David Clark set. I’d had occasion to wear DCs a few times previously, and at least they never made my head hurt, so they seemed like a decent default selection. But after bringing the subject up with Scott and another instructor at Advanced, I got strong recommendations for LightSpeed’s ANR sets. (in fact, Scott told me he thought Lightspeed had better ANR than his pricey Bose X)  I was still on a budget, though, so I figured I’d end up with a lower-end set.  Long story short, I ended up picking up a slightly used 15XLc off eBay for a song.  I don’t know how they might stack up with other ANR sets, but I do know that they’re heaven compared to the loaners.  I was pleased with my purchase.

Fast-forward a few months.  Towards the end of my training, Scott and I were getting ready for a flight… as I put my headset on, there was a pop from the left side, and that cradle split apart.  The large center screw that took most of the load appeared to have abdicated earlier, and the two remaining smaller screws were clearly not meant to take the twisting load where the cradles joined the headband.  I implemented a temporary fix using some zip-ties. (didn’t have any duct tape available)  I kept meaning to give Lightspeed a call to see about replacement parts, but procrastinated.  A lot.  As in I finally got around to calling them last week, after several months of zip-tied headset action.

This, however, is where my decision to go with Lightspeed paid off.  I spent maybe ten minutes total on the phone, and at the end of those ten minutes, I had a set of new cradles headed to my door.  Price?  Zip.  Zilch.  Remember that I bought this set used.  I’m not the original owner, it’s definitely out of warranty.  They didn’t care, didn’t even ask how long I’d had the set, and I didn’t ask for free parts.  When I asked how much it was, the reply was, “Oh, don’t worry about it, just tell someone about us.”

Well, you can count on that.

So now I have a newly whole headset, I know to keep an eye on those big cradle screws, and I feel pretty certain who I’ll be getting my next headset from.  Heck, with their trade-up program, I can send in my 15XLcs and get a set of Zulus for $550… but I think I’m more likely to pay full price for Zulus and keep the 15s for passenger use.  After my experience with the loaners, I’m hesitant to condemn my passengers to them, but I don’t have much choice right now.

I’ve recently become something of a budding Neal Boortz fan; this is part of a semi-concerted effort to become better-informed. (also, Scott had a little something to do with it)  However, I generally only get a small daily dose of his radio show… namely the 20-minute period I spend driving to work in the morning.  I could listen at work, but I suspect it would impact my productivity, so I demur.  I try to make up for this by keeping an eye on Neal’s daily program notes, to include the regular “Reading Assignments” bit.  Nestled into this past Thursday’s assignments was a defense of our current President’s achievements, harvested from the Daily Kos.

Now, while there’s a lot of material there- some of which, quite frankly, I am ill-equipped to comment on at all- my eye was initially caught by the leadoff point.  Yup, you guessed it, the recent healthcare reform bill. (Or maybe you didn’t guess it.  Who cares; keep reading.)  Nestled in amongst a bevy of subjective statements was this little gem:

“…ensuring coverage for all kids up till the age of 26…”

Now, at first, I just sort of chuckled and dismissed that line as shallow propaganda.  We’ve all heard that favorite political trump card… invoking the thought of a poor, defenseless child.  When it comes to emotion-based arguments, this is one of the big guns.  My first thought upon reading this was that calling a person in his/her mid-twenties a “kid” was a particularly egrerious abuse of the old “think of the children!” argument.  But the more I thought about it, the more I came to see it as something far more telling.

One of the things that distinguishes children from adults is dependence.  Children, to varying degrees by age, do not possess the ability to effectively fend for themselves.  They are dependent upon their parents or legal guardians, who (hopefully) provide for their children shelter, sustenance, moral support, etc.  A huge part of the transition to adulthood is the transition away from this dependence.  An infant who requires near-constant attention grows into a toddler who feeds and clothes himself; eventually, there’s a teenager who maybe works a part-time job and contributes to his newfound vehicular freedom, and so on.  As years go by, the ties of dependence become minimal; the new adult must earn his keep and figure out how to make use of a finite paycheck to fulfill his wants and needs.

In our current political environment, it’s becoming gradually more accepted to subvert this process.  Citizens keep expecting their government to provide more and more services and protections.  Instead of someone on a limited budget having to make a hard choice between medical insurance and a less-rattly car, they simply expect the government to provide the insurance, or to at least subsidize it.  It’s an attitude that goes far beyond just insurance- witness demands for government assistance with ill-planned mortgages, or even the current census rhetoric encouraging people to be sure they get their “fair share.”

It all boils down to one thing, really- increased dependence on some higher authority figure.  Expecting to be provided for.  Coming to believe that that dependence is not just acceptable, but preferred.  I’m not going to speculate on the motivation for encouraging this behavior- that could be a serious discussion all its own- but it’s an undeniable fact that the independence that adults traditionally not only accepted, but even took fierce pride in, is gradually fading.

In other words, it comes down to adults acting like children and being treated as such by the government.  Which, in turn, brings us back to the little one-liner that started this whole verbal hemmorhage:

“…ensuring coverage for all kids up till the age of 26…”

At first glance, it’s a mildly amusing perversion of terms, but on closer inspection, it’s more of a window into the entitlement mindset that’s feeding our country.  Something to think about.

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
-David Herbert Lawrence

I did get in a few short flights recently; the Friday before last, Scott and I went up to Dahlonega (1A0) to get in some short-field practice.  That’s pretty much a requirement at 1A0, which is nestled in the foothills just south of the Chattahoochee National Forest, up near the North Carolina border.  I still don’t feel like I have the hang of making the steeper descent while effectively managing my airspeed, but I still managed to put the DA-20 down on the numbers a time or two.  Some more practice in this area is going to be called for prior to taking the big ride, one of the thing I intend to work on during my remaining solo time. (and probably some dual as well)  That flight also saw some soft-field practice back at PDK- I do much better at these, though I still feel I could put some work into setting the airplane down gently.

A few days later, I met Scott for a review session prior to my written exam.  Winds were up and gusty that day, so we took a break from the bookwork to head to LZU and expose me to a bit more of a challenge.  The wind played havoc with my pattern and approach, and I never did really get a good feel for putting the plane in a sideslip for a good final and touchdown- still, I got some much-needed experience, as well as a small slice of humble pie.  I’m hoping to get out on a day with a bit of crosswind just so I can work at getting a good feel for the fundamentals of sideslipping without the additional stakes of gusts to make things hairy.  This approach worked for me earlier, when I was working on coordinating my turns- some time over Lanier just banking the plane left and right got me doing well at that.

As of today, I met with Scott again and went through a mock oral exam, which also served the purpose of reviewing the items I missed on the written.  That was a bit of an eye-opener; there’s nothing quite as humbling as being asked a question and performing the “uhh…err..welllll…” routine.  Luckily, those didn’t happen a lot, and gave me some guidance as to areas that I can stand to shore up over the next few days.

So far, the weather is looking like it may cooperate next weekend, and the weather this week is mostly good, allowing ample opportunity to squeeze in a polish-up flight or two.  In the meantime, I’ve got information to gather and a cross-country to plan for inspection by The Man.

But here I am, two years later, starting from scratch, and the reason is that thanks to the generosity of someone close to me, my dream of flight is finally going to be a reality.  It’s happening about five years later than I kind of expected, but such is life, I suppose.  Anyhoo, with the revelation of this wonderful gift and my fervent re-entry into the training scene, I decided it was time to start over clean here and get things going anew.

For the moment, things might look a bit odd here.  My primary impetus now is get my thoughts and experiences of the past week or so down while they’re fresh, even before I get the new blog theme worked out, so there will be a few posts in rapid succession here.  Anyway, I’ll cap this off now; I’ve still got more to write in other posts.