It has been a long while and a lot has happened in the between. Reading my last post reminded me of how angry and bitchy I can get, but in the end not much has changed except the anger is gone.
I've not ridden many miles due to laziness and additional responsibilities at work, but isn't that the way life goes. I'll get back to riding eventually, but the passion isn't there anymore for racing. Endurance events......maybe.
I've gotten into Autocross racing the wife's
Miata the last year or so after being introduced to this sport by a few friends, and I really enjoy it. I've attended two Evolution racing schools (
http://www.evoschool.com/ ) with friend, John
Hofmann, and in my opinion it is money well spent if you decide to get into Autocross events and want to get fast quick, or your into it already and need to shave a few tenths. John just got a Z06 '
Vette that sets you back in the seat like getting kicked in the chest every time he dumps the clutch and showers down on 505 horsepower. I guess it's just a man thing but cars that accelerate like that and sound like demons growling in anger when you really get on it makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over. Guess you gotta experience it. Anyway.... No-one has been competing in my class on the local scene so I'm not really able to compare times or know if I'm getting faster. What I have done, however, is concentrate on being smooth while trying to match the times of cars/drivers in other classes that are faster than me. Considering the fact I'm running on tires that are your average street drivers and not specialty compounds for racing, I'm doing
ok I guess for now. Plans are in the works, however, to be a tad faster next year so I might be able to qualify and run at the
SCCA Nationals. Probably get my ass handed to me properly, but it'll be cool to compete against the best in the country and learn from them. If I can get a few more tweaks done to the
Miata, I might just be able to make it.
On a different note I did finally get my check-ride completed, so now I'm a private pilot. Writing that and thinking about it still sends a shock of reality through me since it has been nearly 33 years in the making. I can't say the check ride was not stressful, but in hindsight it was practically a "non-event." I was over prepared and had worked myself up into a froth worrying about it. Yeah, I blew a fuse regarding my flight instructor and I don't need the "I told you so" speech because I've already heard it and acknowledged it to my flight instructor. We're still friends, we still trust each other, and I wouldn't learn from anyone else if given the choice. He's too much like me in expecting more from his students. I think
Mallie's dad wrote to me to keep in mind that something that has built for many years "carries a lot of inertia with it" and that has been on my mind everyday since I read that. Truer words have never been spoken.
As far as my check ride.....
The weather was not the best that day with moderate turbulence and lower ceilings than were ideal. I had to stay below 2,000 feet to stay out of clouds and had to go slower due to moderate turbulence on the one hour flight to Douglas, Ga. The Macon
VOR was having problems and one
NOTAM stated no radio service from Macon
ATC on the regular frequency, so I had to communicate on one frequency while listening to another. Well, evidently no-one in Macon wanted to communicate with me so I couldn't activate my flight plan nor get radar notifications of traffic. So, here I am at a low level altitude running 115 knots with no communication from
ATC. Did I say how much I love GPS, because that Cessna has one of the best to get you where you want to go. No worries except if something happened I had no altitude to work out options/solutions and no-one to tell "look for me here." Oh, and just so everyone knows: buzzards like to circle at about 1,700 feet. Avoiding those bastards at least made my flight fun in a weird kind of way since they'll go straight through a Cessna 172 easier than a hot knife through butter and I had no helmet. I did get to think a lot about what I was about to do and what I wanted to say to the man who inspired me to pursue flight.
A few miles out from Douglas Municipal airport, or
DQH, I announced the "who, what, where, and my intentions" to all in the area as required. I could also see that shortly after my radio call someone walked out onto the front deck of the building I was supposed to arrive at in less than 8 minutes. My check pilot was already at work evaluating my performance. And, it was a "greaser" of a landing. I've performed only 3 landings that were perfect by my flight instructor's judgement, and I couldn't tell when the gear touched down each time. This day I performed two more when it mattered. After securing the Cessna, I walked up to meet, again, Bob
Harless.
"Nice landing," was his first words as he stuck out his hand. "Thank you, sir," I said as I returned a firm handshake. The man before me may have appeared to others as someone in his twilight years that was an obstacle to overcome in order to get the
FAA's approval to fly a plane, but that was not the case for me. To me, he was that same pilot that took me up on my first flight in his C-47 (DC-3) over 33 years before and laughed when I stood at his side asking so many questions while he was busy flying the plane. We exchanged introductions, and then briefly discussed the weather conditions for the day. My first notice this would be a quick, but extremely intense check ride at lower altitudes than either of us would like to have.
After the prerequisite questions the FAA mandates, I got down to the business at hand of planning our flight to Savannah, Ga. Something important in any situation is knowing a little about the person you're dealing with. Bob
Harless was a Korean War vet. He views flying through military airspace as not a viable option for non-military aircraft, so I planned a longer flight path to avoid the
MOAs and restricted airspace over Ft. Stewart, Ga. He liked my flight plan but questioned me as to why, and I answered per the FAA rules to put a check in the box of my exam. He was happy so we went flying.
The weather was not looking good and thunderstorms were gonna start popping soon. During my engine run-up and aircraft check list, Bob gave verbal instructions of items he wanted me to accomplish and wanted me to perform them in order. And, I had to begin each task immediately after completing the previous without hesitation. Task saturation - a normal
environmental condition to stress the pilot. Trying to remember over 12 flight maneuvers in a specific order while navigating and communicating is difficult enough, but when you have a FAA check pilot with you tossing other miscellaneous items into the mix during all this you can get a bit flustered. And I got flustered and hesitated after the 10
th item on the list. I couldn't remember a frequency and didn't think to look on my knee board where I kept it in case I forgot. Pilots must remember specific frequencies irregardless, and I realized that I just found my saturation point. I recovered, however, and continued as required. You have to move on and not worry about what you screwed up. It was a sickening feeling realizing I was a slobbering baby at that point and continuing on instinct alone. Instinct that my flight instructor had hammered into my head in countless hours of training. After completing my last
maneuvers, we headed back for what I hoped was a "good enough" landing because I was mentally and physically done at that point.
I made my 5
th perfect landing, out of over 180 attempts at such by the way, and again I got a compliment. A blind hog can find an
acorn once in a while. When I secured the aircraft, we discussed what went right, what I thought about each situation I was put into, and what I should do better. That signalled to me that I had failed the exam and would be coming back in a few days to try again. Now I felt completely drained. All I could envision was the dreaded pink paper copy that is the
FAA's version of "your fired, but come back tomorrow to work again." I didn't want to see the pink failure slip. What Bob said next gave me hope. "You got farther than others have in the flight aspect, and you should be proud of that. You've been trained well, and you did better than expected." We walked into the main office of
Harless Aviation and I grabbed some coffee to perk up for the flight back in hopes it would be as a private pilot.
Bob asked for my logbook and then told me to sign my initials and name on two forms he put before me. Both were white copies. I'd passed my check ride.
There's no way to describe how relieved I was, how energetic I felt, and how much I needed to say in appreciation. It was at that point I finally explained who I was and how long I'd been on the journey to earn a pilot's license. Bob was surprised and couldn't believe I'd not stated so earlier. The next hour and a half was spent discussing the last 30+ years of our lives. I thanked him for instilling in me a fascination with aviation, whether he knew it or meant to do it. It didn't matter, because I felt like that young boy who was on his first flight again in a machine flying on the invisible substance of the heavens guided by a man who knew how to control what I couldn't
fathom. For many years, he was bigger than life to me....and he still is today. We parted that day with a firm handshake, an agreement to not let this be the last meeting, and a wish for good flying.
The flight back was the third most exciting flight of my life. The first was my first flight, and the second was the day I soloed. That is of course, until I had to avoid those damn buzzards again............
Upon return to the airport, my landing was less than perfect and Diana was reaching for an "oh-shit" handle when I performed a slip on final approach, but we were able to walk away and the plane can be used again. Mostly.
