This particular route is new to me, and as TEB slowly crawls into view in the haze, I wonder just how far out I really am.
Looking at the chart proves nearly useless now, as I am distracted by the view outside:
Great puffy hulks of cumulus drifting overhead, the sun's rays rippling in sheets between them; the staunch yet delicate
metal wing to my left simply... flying, over land crawling with apatment hi-rises, strip malls, office buildings,
and other such thoroughly unwelcoming stuff. It's surreal; almost too much to take in all at once. I've seen it before, but this time, I'm alone.
I listen to the TEB ATIS- no change, really, since I left.
I'm pretty sure I'm over Paterson now, but it's time to contact the tower, so I must be certain. I am well east of my usual path back from Mahwah or Lincoln Park, so there should be a hill nearby, to the...southwest. There it is. I turn towards it, entering a wide, shallow 360.
"Teterboro tower uh Cessna One Two Two Three Foxtrot over uh Paterson with uh Alpha... inbound for landing full-stop".
I am anxious waiting for the reply, as I half-expect the controller to laugh cruelly and say "Paterson, you say? Reeeaallyy? Why, son, you are nowhere near Paterson... please remain clear of the Class Delta and try reporting your position again when you find your miserable, airheaded, student self... or better yet, go bother them at Caldwell!"
But he doesn't, and I am very glad.
"Cessna OneTwoTwoThreeFox, Teterborotowersquawkzerothreefivefour."
"Squawk 0354; Two Three Fox."
"Cessna TwoThreeFox; Teterborotoweraltimetertwo-ninerpointeight-fivemakerightbaseforone-nine."
I can see the field well now, but I can't really make out the runways. What heading will set me on a nice perpendicular course to runway 19?
I turn to 100 and descend to 1000 feet. The compression-effect of approach now begins: I am getting lower and slower
and will soon have more and more things vying for my attention- critical things, life-or-death things... like my altitude or the traffic or the ABC radio tower spiking into the sky just north of the field, its winking red beacon perched at almost 700 AGL.
I see a departing Piper, an Arrow, I think, approaching from my right, climbing out from TEB.
I follow its progress as it crosses my path, well ahead.
"Cessna23F; Teterborotower; trafficisanArrowatyour, uh, yourtenoclockheadingnortheast, uh, 900feetshouldbenofactor-
youarecleartolandRunwayOneNiner".
I smile and key the mic.
"CleartolandOneNiner- trafficinsightnofactorthanksTwoThreeFox".
I'm getting pretty good at comms... and at spotting traffic.
Now the question arises again: what are we looking at here? I can discern a runway. Is it 19, or 24? I know TEB's layout well,but the last few approaches I made here were under the Foggles, being steered verbally to each heading; not seeing
the runway until the top of final. I'm suddenly a bit lost. There's the ABC tower... do I go around it, or turn before it?
To set up for 24, I know I would go around it, and turn final over Little Ferry. But what about for 19?
I turn right, getting a little too close to the tower, then realize I am supposed to be setting up a right base, and must turn left.
-And you were doing so well... pathetic...
"This is neither the time nor the place... please be quiet."
Okay. Right base for 19. Slow up.Power. Flaps. Trim.
As I turn onto the base leg, I'm decelerating through 80 knots. Getting there... Looks like I'm high... and yes, the VASI agrees.
Slow up more... make her sink, don't dive... once stabilized, I seem to be in it a little too deep...then I know she's set up right, but I feel like we're hot as I flare- seem to be making a habit of that today- but we're down now, very close to the numbers; might make Charlie if-
"CessnaTwoThreeFox, turnright taxiwayCharliecontactGroundpointniner."
I just barely get the Skyhawk stopped in time to make the turn, and as I turn right, the nosewheel comes within inches of dumping off into the grass where the taxiway meets the runway. But even as I'm salvaging this awkward exit, I'm transmitting:
"TurnrightCharlieTwoThreeFox."
Luckily, traffic is light at the moment, and I taxi all the way back without having to wait once for another plane.
After all the misadventure, I have returned, and I feel that the worst is behind me.
But it is not. For ahead lies the act of Pushing the Plane Back to the Fence, and it proves to be the only true ordeal I am to face today. The 172's tanks are still almost two-thirds full, and it proves difficult to budge, let alone turn.
There is no towbar in the plane. I check the nearest school plane. Nope. Oh well, those things don't really help you push anyway. But it would help me swing the nosewheel... so without it, I must take drastic measures, because I can't quite use my weight to push the tail down and swing the plane that way, especially with the slight upslope between here and the parking spot. I crouch down, grasp the nosewheel forks, and twist it a little.
Then I push on a wing strut. This seems to do the trick. Much more effort to bump her over the tie-down cables, but finally, it is finished.
Exhausted now, I tie it down, install the control lock, jot down the tach and Hobbs numbers (damn that Hobbs fellow!),
gather my things, and lock the door before walking away.
I feel better now that it's over. Well, not just that it's over- I did fairly well, except for getting a bit lost
on the way out, and scattering index cards all over the cabin on the way back. My landings were not my worst
so far, I didn't bust my student mins or any regs; didn't hurt the airplane... and I'm still alive.
Not bad, really.
C. is eager to know how it went, yet he reserves comment on my honestly-confessed mistakes. He does ask if I
brought him something from 4N1 as proof I'd been there... damn, I wish he'd asked beforehand... I have nothing.
But it's no big deal.
He is very much relieved that I was not the Cessna (heard on the radio in the school lobby) who was up over Paterson well inside the class Bravo airspace
without a clearance. No, not only was I below the shelf, I was actually where I thought I was- a feat accomplished through
pilotage alone!
He is pleased, but downplays it- there isn't much room inside a Cessna for swollen heads, especially with two people up front...and we have lots more work to do together.
Next- Flight 53: First Cross-Country!
