MountainLakeLabs
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It said "hangar flying" here, so I shall tell two stories of my aviation youth.
On my third solo in a Cessna 152, I didn't yet know about seat tracks, track wear, the little spring that needs to pull the locking pin down tight, nor did I realize how the front tracks tend to wear more and short guys like me tend to need those tracks most! :ermm:
I had just run down the runway and gotten about 200 feet airborne when away broke the seat, and away I flew all the way back. First words out of my mouth were: "Sh#t!! God help me." Total panic. I had managed to let go of the yoke instinctively and didn't make the fatal mistake of taking it back with me. Had a cranky ol' Navy fighter pilot from WW2 beat me over the head with his sectionals when I first started flying in gliders. "No, **** you!!! Get that nose down!! Airspeed!!! Airspeed!!!! Easy on the stick!" And, oddly enough, I found myself cursing my airplane as an unruly horse in his voice, too.
Grabbed the door post with my left arm. Fortunately had the aircraft well trimmed on takeoff as habit and checklist item, and so she just flew the climb for me while I struggled to get my feet closer to the pedals. Still had some control of the yoke enough to push it in. Struggle to reach the throttle, but it was pushed in fully anyhow. Pattern altitude was 650' AGL and I busted it to 1000' by the time getting the nose level.
Kept climbing on Upwind; Seat rolled back and forth and I learned that the seat would come up and give me control with the nose down and away I'd go back with the nose up. No way to lock the seat down. :depressed Pretty much did everything wrong. Totally flustered. On Downwind I was way too high and way too close to the runway. Fogot to dump my normal 10 degrees flaps. Radioed in for a landing. Just wanted to come home. Had no idea how I'd land or do a flare, but just wanted to be closer to the ground. Felt my performance rapidly decaying among discomboobled fluster.
On Base to Final, I was still way too high, too close, and going too fast....so stupidly dumped all my flaps....and away the nose pitched up again! Away I flew back on the seat rails. No feet on the pedals. No throttle control again. No yoke. Nose pitched up fast. Stall horn going off. Slight buffet starting. Just a touch before stall and spin. But, that time I still had my hand on the door rail and pulled myself and seat forward enough to keep the nose down.
On Final, then I was still way too high and too close. How high? I don't remember. Probably about 900 feet and where you should really just Go Around, but I was hellbent on coming down. And so I slipped her down. That was one of my favorites. Was real good at it. Dropped the left wing, gave as much full right rudder as I could with my tippy toes. The nose down attitude gave me at least some pedal control. Had the yoke control fully back and the throttle. Had no stinkin' idea what I was gonna do about the landing flare, but just wanted to land soooo bad.
Came more like a parachute's angle of descent. Like a hard aircraft carrier landing. And gave it some throttle right over the runway threshold...which leveled things out into a powered landing. Sorta soft field style. Main wheels gave just a "squeak, squeak." Not much of a flare because I was too scared to do so, and just kinda held the nosewheel in a slight wheelie below flare and above touching ground to bleed off some speed. Eventually I couldn't hold it up anymore and the nosewheel touched. That was my chance to undo my belt and wiggle up to the brake pedals. And, when I did that, all the momentum threw my seat fully forward on the rails -- squashing me some -- but giving me full rudder control back for the runway. It was a 5000' runway and I used about half before coming to a stop.
Taxied off and went to refuel. Hopped out of the plane trembling but hiding it from my gas pumper buddies. Bumbed a smoke from one and laid down next to a leaky gas pump as they refueled the bird. And then.....then I realized it just bad luck to pray in vulgarity; for God did help me that day -- answered my prayer exactly: Gave me help and also decided it appropriate that I should soil my undies. :shock:
Such was my 3rd solo. I kinda remember my 1st, but none so memorable as the 3rd. And try as I did, I was never really ever able to replicate such a soft and perfect landing as that one. At least how it went down to my own perceptions at the time, it was soft on the mains and nosewheel. Couldn't even feel the landing. The kind you have to doublecheck to know you're on the ground.
Well, so a story there and reminder to always make sure your seat tracks are locked down well before flight and to keep your takeoff trim set well. And don't swear in prayer! :ermm:
Hanger tale #2?
I'm one of two fools I know who once stupidly took a Cessna 172RG right through the core of a thunderstorm while chasing weather and IFR conditions to practice in. Was just supposed to be practice weather and farting around, but we were thrown upward from about 4,000' to something like 14,000' before it spit us out. My buddy flying pulled the throttle back to get us at maneuvering speed. Had ice building up on the struts fast. Throttle at idle with the carb heat on and we were still skyrocketed up. VSI fully pegged. Maybe 2 g's in the seat. I dunno. Difficult to raise and work your arms much like that. But, it spit us out. Then chased us all the way down to a nearby runway. Windsock twirling every which way fully pegged. Rainy landing. Could barely tie the plane down among gusts and then it hailed on us. All that lethal downpour hammered us just a few minutes after we were in that core. First time I'd ever seen green cloud to cloud glow prior to lightning and thunder, too. A really potent summer-time thunderstorm.
Anyhow, we got into the local pilot shack and they looked at us -- just two stupid kids back then -- like we had landed from Mars or something. Tower asked us to call them to scold us. They said they'd seen us go in on radar. Pilots had been inside for the last 30 minutes and were taking bets on us as idiots. :ermm:
And my buddy there I later encouraged to get out of civil aviation and go for an Air Force commission. He graduated Numero Uno in his UPT class. Was given first pick of his aircraft to train in and we kicked him for choosing big birds, but he just always wanted to be an airline skipper since a kid. And he is now. He's one of those captains you like having in the seat. Started out flying at age 12. Started out washing them. Became a mechanic long before a pilot. An excellent pilot. The way they're supposed to be made when driving airliners.
Moral of the story: Stay out of thunderstorms! Bad stuff. Can break off your tail feathers easy. We were just unusually lucky that day. No luck, really, just little miracles.
See ya.
Chief of Nerds:lick:
MountainLakeLabs.com
On my third solo in a Cessna 152, I didn't yet know about seat tracks, track wear, the little spring that needs to pull the locking pin down tight, nor did I realize how the front tracks tend to wear more and short guys like me tend to need those tracks most! :ermm:
I had just run down the runway and gotten about 200 feet airborne when away broke the seat, and away I flew all the way back. First words out of my mouth were: "Sh#t!! God help me." Total panic. I had managed to let go of the yoke instinctively and didn't make the fatal mistake of taking it back with me. Had a cranky ol' Navy fighter pilot from WW2 beat me over the head with his sectionals when I first started flying in gliders. "No, **** you!!! Get that nose down!! Airspeed!!! Airspeed!!!! Easy on the stick!" And, oddly enough, I found myself cursing my airplane as an unruly horse in his voice, too.
Grabbed the door post with my left arm. Fortunately had the aircraft well trimmed on takeoff as habit and checklist item, and so she just flew the climb for me while I struggled to get my feet closer to the pedals. Still had some control of the yoke enough to push it in. Struggle to reach the throttle, but it was pushed in fully anyhow. Pattern altitude was 650' AGL and I busted it to 1000' by the time getting the nose level.
Kept climbing on Upwind; Seat rolled back and forth and I learned that the seat would come up and give me control with the nose down and away I'd go back with the nose up. No way to lock the seat down. :depressed Pretty much did everything wrong. Totally flustered. On Downwind I was way too high and way too close to the runway. Fogot to dump my normal 10 degrees flaps. Radioed in for a landing. Just wanted to come home. Had no idea how I'd land or do a flare, but just wanted to be closer to the ground. Felt my performance rapidly decaying among discomboobled fluster.
On Base to Final, I was still way too high, too close, and going too fast....so stupidly dumped all my flaps....and away the nose pitched up again! Away I flew back on the seat rails. No feet on the pedals. No throttle control again. No yoke. Nose pitched up fast. Stall horn going off. Slight buffet starting. Just a touch before stall and spin. But, that time I still had my hand on the door rail and pulled myself and seat forward enough to keep the nose down.
On Final, then I was still way too high and too close. How high? I don't remember. Probably about 900 feet and where you should really just Go Around, but I was hellbent on coming down. And so I slipped her down. That was one of my favorites. Was real good at it. Dropped the left wing, gave as much full right rudder as I could with my tippy toes. The nose down attitude gave me at least some pedal control. Had the yoke control fully back and the throttle. Had no stinkin' idea what I was gonna do about the landing flare, but just wanted to land soooo bad.
Came more like a parachute's angle of descent. Like a hard aircraft carrier landing. And gave it some throttle right over the runway threshold...which leveled things out into a powered landing. Sorta soft field style. Main wheels gave just a "squeak, squeak." Not much of a flare because I was too scared to do so, and just kinda held the nosewheel in a slight wheelie below flare and above touching ground to bleed off some speed. Eventually I couldn't hold it up anymore and the nosewheel touched. That was my chance to undo my belt and wiggle up to the brake pedals. And, when I did that, all the momentum threw my seat fully forward on the rails -- squashing me some -- but giving me full rudder control back for the runway. It was a 5000' runway and I used about half before coming to a stop.
Taxied off and went to refuel. Hopped out of the plane trembling but hiding it from my gas pumper buddies. Bumbed a smoke from one and laid down next to a leaky gas pump as they refueled the bird. And then.....then I realized it just bad luck to pray in vulgarity; for God did help me that day -- answered my prayer exactly: Gave me help and also decided it appropriate that I should soil my undies. :shock:
Such was my 3rd solo. I kinda remember my 1st, but none so memorable as the 3rd. And try as I did, I was never really ever able to replicate such a soft and perfect landing as that one. At least how it went down to my own perceptions at the time, it was soft on the mains and nosewheel. Couldn't even feel the landing. The kind you have to doublecheck to know you're on the ground.
Well, so a story there and reminder to always make sure your seat tracks are locked down well before flight and to keep your takeoff trim set well. And don't swear in prayer! :ermm:
Hanger tale #2?
I'm one of two fools I know who once stupidly took a Cessna 172RG right through the core of a thunderstorm while chasing weather and IFR conditions to practice in. Was just supposed to be practice weather and farting around, but we were thrown upward from about 4,000' to something like 14,000' before it spit us out. My buddy flying pulled the throttle back to get us at maneuvering speed. Had ice building up on the struts fast. Throttle at idle with the carb heat on and we were still skyrocketed up. VSI fully pegged. Maybe 2 g's in the seat. I dunno. Difficult to raise and work your arms much like that. But, it spit us out. Then chased us all the way down to a nearby runway. Windsock twirling every which way fully pegged. Rainy landing. Could barely tie the plane down among gusts and then it hailed on us. All that lethal downpour hammered us just a few minutes after we were in that core. First time I'd ever seen green cloud to cloud glow prior to lightning and thunder, too. A really potent summer-time thunderstorm.
Anyhow, we got into the local pilot shack and they looked at us -- just two stupid kids back then -- like we had landed from Mars or something. Tower asked us to call them to scold us. They said they'd seen us go in on radar. Pilots had been inside for the last 30 minutes and were taking bets on us as idiots. :ermm:
And my buddy there I later encouraged to get out of civil aviation and go for an Air Force commission. He graduated Numero Uno in his UPT class. Was given first pick of his aircraft to train in and we kicked him for choosing big birds, but he just always wanted to be an airline skipper since a kid. And he is now. He's one of those captains you like having in the seat. Started out flying at age 12. Started out washing them. Became a mechanic long before a pilot. An excellent pilot. The way they're supposed to be made when driving airliners.
Moral of the story: Stay out of thunderstorms! Bad stuff. Can break off your tail feathers easy. We were just unusually lucky that day. No luck, really, just little miracles.
See ya.
Chief of Nerds:lick:
MountainLakeLabs.com
