First Solo
Page [272]
“What an amazing series of coincidences preceded this flight across the ocean. When I look back, the chance of their taking place seems impossibly remote, like flipping a coin a hundred times and having it always turn up heads. It was chance that took me to St. Louis in the first place. That was in 1923, the year of my first solo flight.”
As I read the words from Charles Lindberg’s autobiography, The Spirit of St. Louis I think about what has brought me to the milestone that I have crossed this day. I grab a pen, and write “First Solo 2/25/2001 C-150 NXX175 Sundance” on the top of the page. Today I hope is the beginning of my life as a pilot. Before now I was always just a passenger. Yes, I manipulated the controls but I was never really in charge of the aircraft. I always had the comfort of knowing that thousands of hours of experience where riding next to me monitoring my every action. But on this day, I was truly alone and for the first time pilot in command of Cessna 150 NXX175.
Earlier that morning as we walked to the hanger I confided with Ken my instructor my fears about soloing. I told him that when I first started flying I didn’t worry much about getting in trouble. But now that my daughter was born, I was much more aware of the consequences of messing up. Ken was very understanding. He reassured me and said that the feelings that I was having were very normal at this stage of my training. It is odd that back just a few hours in my log book, I was raring to solo. But today, my mere 15+ hours looked woefully inadequate. We agreed that I would not solo until I was ready and to for today, we would go out and have some fun.
As I buckled on my little 150 I looked out and realized what a great day to fly this would be. What little wind there was blew mostly straight down the runway. There were other flyers at the field today taking advantage of the nice weather. Earlier at the pilots lounge I had enjoyed the banter of the “liars club” that gathers every weekend at the airport. One student of another instructor was moaning about how his instructor kept standing him up. Today was to be the day he would solo, and he said he had 9 hours. As we taxied out to runway 35 they were in the pattern shooting touch and goes. Maybe I would get to see him solo, that would be neat. When our turn came we took the active and away we went. As we began to climbed out, Ken asked if I would like to stay in the pattern and make a touch and go before we left the airport to practice some maneuvers. Sure I said, and made my cross wind call. As I had done many times before I focused on airspeed, altitude and making my pattern just as I had been instructed. We made a touch and go and began to climbed out a second time. That one went so well I decide to make one more. Number two goes as well as number one. All this time, Ken has said little other that minor comments. “Relax”, “Airspeed looks good”, “Nice approach angle”, “Hold the nose off”. But now he looks over at me and speaks the words I knew would come eventually, “Tell you what, you do one more like the last two and I am going get out and let you do one by yourself. Make this last one a full stop and taxi over to the terminal. I want you to do two touch and goes and finish with a full stop on the last one.” (Normal practice is 3 takeoffs and landings to a full stop, but the nose wheel on our 150 has a tendency to shimmy bad when you apply the brakes so I figure he is saving me some extra excitement.) The last landing we float and bounce lightly, nothing major. As we roll up to the terminal I notice that my mouth is starting to get really dry. We come to a stop and I look over at Ken expectantly. Ken says, “Well, are you ready to do this?” I say, “ I guess so, but I am scared.” Ken says, “ You’ll do fine.” And with that he smiles and exits the airplane.
As I begin to taxi back to runway 35 I listen for traffic at the small uncontrolled airfield. It sounds like I have the place to myself at the moment. There is no sign of the other student who was supposed to solo today. I think to myself, “Keep it down the center line, taxi slow, keep the yoke pulled back, pressure off that nose wheel.” As I roll down the taxiway that suddenly seems 10 miles long, I resolve to myself that this is going to be all business. Haven’t I done this 50-60 times before? Since there doesn’t seem to be anybody in the pattern, I radio that I am taking runway 35 and roll over to the center line. Without hesitation I give full throttle and away I go. I have always heard stories that the plane seems to leap off the ground on first solo. I don’t really notice a great difference, but I can tell there is a change. We hadn’t yet burned 2 gallons off the full tanks we started with, and with my 6’-0” 240lbs frame, that could be it. I cant honestly say I remember a lot about the 3 circuits around Sundance that I made that day. I did what I did every other time. Climbed to 400ft AGL. (1600ft MSL). Make my crosswind radio call, bank (remember less that 30% in the pattern). The runway I am using has left traffic, that makes it easier to see. Turn and call downwind. I feel as cool as a cucumber. What’s that about? Wasn’t I scared to death just a few minutes ago? Reduce power, carburetor heat on, 10% flaps, radio base leg. I’m looking pretty good, I think I’ll leave things just as they are. Coming in a little bit high, better that then low. I’ll easily make the runway now, pull off all the power. Flare……..wheels on the ground, keep it tracking straight down the middle, flaps up-carburetor heat off, full throttle. I’m flying again within moments. As I climb out the second time Ken call me on the radio, “nice landing, give me two more just like that.” And later, “You may never be an airline pilot, but you sure sound like one.” He’s right, for some unknown reason I am the picture of confidence. The second landing goes as good as the first. Up until now I have had the place to myself, but a Bonanza calls, he is 5 miles out will be entering the down wind at mid field. I’m feeling a little frisky, so I call the Bonanza, “Bonanza entering the pattern, be advised student on first solo just off the field.” The Bonanza pilot playfully radios back, “Oh, oh guess I better find someplace else to land.” All things are going fine. The Bonanza is way ahead of me and is already clear of the runway before I turn final. This landing is going to be my best of them all. I know that I need to be slowed down if I want to make the 1st turn off without using too much brakes. This time I use more flaps and try to touch down right at the end of the runway. That fence looks much closer than it ever has before, this landing is going to be perfect. As I begin to flare I note the air speed 55 knots, perfect I should stop with more than enough room to turn off. But suddenly I realize that I am still flying. What normally would have been wheels on the ground extends for seconds that seem like hours. One, two gentle bounces and now I’m down at last, but I am rolling along too fast to brake in time for the turn off. I don’t want to risk the shimmy, so I continue on to the end of the runway and turn off. Wow, its done! That wasn’t nearly as bad as I pictured it would be. Ken calls on the radio, “I believe that last one counts as three.” When I roll to a stop at the terminal all the spectators file out to shake my hand. Ken is the first, “congratulations on your first solo.” I felt about 10 feet tall and covered in hair as they take pictures of me and Ken in front of NXX175. I had complained earlier that I wasn’t wearing the proper shirt to solo(mine was a dark blue golf shirt) so we didn’t do the ritual cutting of the tails. It don’t really mind skipping it. The world of aviation is so different today from when that tradition was started. I don’t even know why it was done in the first place, though I am sure some gray hair could enlighten me. I would never dare to compare myself to the great pioneers aviation. Having read their stories I know that what they did will never be duplicated in today’s age of advanced science and technology. They were men of great courage and skill. I hope to someday be as competent a pilot as they were, in as much as it would be possible.
As I look back on my first solo I realize that I have crossed over to a new dimension of my life flying airplanes. Theory has been replace by the serious responsibility of being a pilot in command. My future as an aviator is still very much unknown at this point. I have only my goals and willingness to continue chasing my dream. One thing is certain, though I don’t yet officially hold the certificate, from this day forward I will be proud to call myself----- Pilot.