The Wings that Fly Us Home in General

There are many ways of being in the circle we call life.
A wise man seeks an answer, burns his candle through the night.
Is a jewel just a pebble that found a way to shine?
Is a hero’s blood more righteous than a hobo’s sip of wine?

First flight in 14 years. To say I was rusty would be a profound understatement. I am corroded solid. Procedurally everything was still there, and I was amazed how little there was to the external preflight of a Cessna 172. The external preflight in the EA-6B was an order of magnitude more complex. And yet daily I did it as if it were no big deal.

I guess any profession is like that. There are things that you just do, automatically.

I found myself over controlling everything from nose wheel steering to VSI.

The skyhawk rotates at 55. I went full throttle, and this in an aircraft with two big guys in it, I was at 60 knots before I knew what happened. Apparently 180HP works quite well with a 2000 pound plane. It leapt off the runway like a dog off its leash.

We climbed straight out, heading for 3000AGL. Things I was uncomfortable with were a) The instruments. Standard small aircraft instruments, but nothing like anything I had seen in 30 years. b) The instructor, Erik - who I might as well name now because I am likely to be referencing him quite a lot over the next few months - kept doing all the co-pilot duties, answering the radio messing with the comm-nav panel. All the shit I should be doing as the pilot.

Dad calmed me down. He’s letting you get a feel for the aircraft without the errata.

For a lot of the flight I was frustrated. I didn’t know where I was. Erik was telling me which way to turn, what altitude to be at. He was talking to Portland approach and I could barely hear what he was saying through the crappy loaner headset I was wearing. My altitude control was pretty good, but I’ve always been a slave to trim. snort

He pointed me toward the coast, we looped around the distribution center at LL Bean in Freeport and headed toward the massive 8000’ runway a mile from my apartment. Crossing over the field he had me drop down to pattern altitude and we joined the downwind. The C-172 is a high wing aircraft and I was again uncomfortable because in a right turn I had no visual reference to the ground - the wing was blocking it. In a prowler we were well forward of the wing and had ground reference in almost every situation.

He had me roll out and I saw a familiar sight picture. It is going to take a while for me to get used to how slow everything seems to work.

He took over for the first touch and go, talking me through a different kind of aviation. I had it for the full stop.

And.

I was over controlling all the way in, but at least the landing wasn’t a ugly a some of the flight.

Tomorrow is slow flight and steep angle turns. God I hope the monkey skills start coming back. Up at 530AM to review procedures and start writing a list of question.

I am paying for this at this point!

And the spirit fills the darkness of the heavens.
It fills the endless yearning of the soul.
It lives within a star too far to dream of.
It lives within each part and is the whole:
It’s the fire and the wings that fly us home.