For those who have not: these are pages from my flight journal, in which I've made notes about almost every flight I've made so far. In this one, I'm just passing the 30-hr mark of my primary training, back in 1996... and itching to do my checkride and be rid of this school...
Flights 37&38
05-22-96
1968 C-172K
TEB-N07
0.6 dual
1 landing
"Norm to/lndg, pilotage, norm TP"
1985 C-172P
TEB-N07-TEB
2.2 dual
5 landings
[PAST 30-HR MARK]
"Short field to/lndg, norm ldg, TP, radio nav"
Got the day off work at the last minute, so I hustle out to TEB for a lesson.
I'm assigned to 475, and as I'm about to start the engine, chief instructor T. strides out onto the ramp and approaches the plane, pointing at the left main wheel. Uh-oh.
Seems I missed something: the hydraulic fluid line to the left brake is crimped where it enters the fuselage (one of my crabbed landings? I wonder). The brakes feel okay, but it is decided that we will ferry 475 to N07 and leave it there for repair.
This is not a big problem, as we were planning to stop there anyway, and C.'s car is over there as well, so we can come back to TEB to get another plane. I don't mind; I have the day off.
The flight is uneventful; C. makes the landing at Lincoln Park just in case the brake gives us trouble... and it doesn't.
But when we arrive back at Teterboro, it turns out it's nearly time for C's next lesson, so I retire to the classroom to watch an instructional video, then wander over to a nearby diner for lunch.
Now I'm a little irritated, as my chance to relax at home most of the day is disappearing.
Finally, C. is available again, and so is 6FR. I review the V-speeds after my preflight.
The cumuli are growing larger and more numerous now, and a nasty little cell is advancing from the west, a gray veil of virga hanging beneath. We should be able to skirt it as we head northwest, though.
But now it's rush hour at Teterboro- the jets are taxiing out in a long conga line. I can't for the life of me figure out where they're all coming from; it reminds me of the circus gag of dozens of clowns piling out of a little car.
After about 30 minutes, I'm cleared for takeoff, and it goes well. Today I can really feel the difference made by flying twice in one week, and the day's earlier ferry flight didn't hurt, either.I'm controlling 6FR with fingertips and trim as she gallops staight into the wind towards Lincoln Park. The nearby storm clouds don't seem to be a threat, but I do notice some small but abrupt altitude changes, and the wind in general increases in intensity as we approach the town.
C. is proving to be an effective instructor- he's still testing me constantly, but he's shifted into a supportive mode, encouraging rather than criticizing.
"Okay, Captain", he'd said earlier, "take me to Lincoln Park."
Well, today the captain is not at his best, so he has to circle away from his approach to downwind to try again... but that does the trick.
The first landing is fair, but again, the directional control could be better. C. reminds me for the umpteenth time how to do it right... which annoys me, as I know the theory, it just doesn't sem to be working for me today.
Meanwhile, my new headset isn't working right with 6FR's intercom: I can't be heard until I transmit, or if C. is talking. It's a nuisance, as I have to yell in order for C. to hear me.
The lesson goes reasonably well despite that, although I seem to make the same mistakes again and again as I do circuits around the field. Why? I wonder. It is a little bumpy, but that's nothing new. Am I distracted? Is it because every time I yell to C. he invariably says "What?" then reproaches me for something? Or is it because he's fallen back into reminding me of something just as I'm about to do it?
Probably... in fact, today I realize part of C.'s problem is that he's nervous. Does that reflect worse on me, or him...?
I'm actually relieved when he announces we will return to TEB; it's been a tough workout.
Navigating back is easy enough, and Tower gives me a straight-in for 24. The landing is not great... as we come over the fence I have full left rudder, but I"m stiull drifting right. C. stomps opposite rudder as we flare, and I start wondering if he's been riding the rudder when I'm not noticing it. In fact, I seem to recall having more trouble sideslipping on final since I started flying with him. No, it can't be... maybe J. was letting me be a little sloppy... but how can it be that I've gotten worse, not better, at coordinating aileron and rudder on final?
It's something to ponder, but in mentally preparing for the next lesson, I put the thought out of my mind, resolving to just try harder.
Next- Flight 39: schedule-book drama, and a discouraging lesson
