Hiya guys!
I won't bore y'all with all my flights, but I'm an attention potato, so, here's at least a couple more.
As you know, I got my PPL a couple weeks ago. The day afterward, I packed the rest of my clothes in my car and drove from Los Angeles up to my new home in Springfield, OR. It's about a 900 mile drive, and I feel pretty good about the 11 hour time I made. My 1999 Buick Regal cruises nice and smooth at, well, what would best be described as 'V' speeds for some aircraft (and I'm not talking Vs0).
I moved into my new house where my wife and kids have been living the past few months and started my new job for real. I had so much work to do those first few days that I couldn't get out, but I eventually scoped out the neighboring airports and decided that Creswell's Hobby Field (named after some guy named Hobbenfeld or something, amusingly enough, and not the word 'hobby') would suit my needs best. The other airport (Eugene, OR's Mahlon Sweet field) is nice, but it doesn't feel super general aviation friendly, and it's 'spensive! $95+ an hour to rent, schnikeys! The FBO at 77S, on the other hand, rents Cessna 152s for $60 an hour (or $50 if you pay an annual fee that breaks even around 30 hours, very interesting).
"Why, sure, I can fly a Cessna 152!" I said to myself. Sure, it's a two seater airplane, but I need something cheap to timebuild in, and our sizable tax bill took the air out of my plans to buy a plane for now, so this will be perfect. Not only that, but it's hard to beat the price.
I bought myself some AOPA renter's insurance, then went down to the FBO and presented my bona fides. The instructor had me do their pre-solo exam, then we went out and did some flying together in the plane.
Now, I'll pause the narrative here for a moment to talk about the expectation versus reality phase when it comes to the Cessna 152. As some of you may have read, scientists recently discovered the remains of a race of small people (in the news, they were referred to as 'hobbits'). After examining the C-152, it is my determination that said plane was in fact designed in anticipation of these small people learning to fly.
My expectation was that the C-152 would essentially be a two seater version of the Cessna 172, which I always felt was essentially a high-wing version of the Piper Warrior that I luxuriated in during my training. This expectation was not... entirely... accurate.
The seats were, I decided, added after the major design was complete. I can imagine the conversation at Cessna Corp went something along the lines of this:
Designer 1: Let's go ahead and put together a preliminary weight and balance sheet and take prototype 1 out to the hangar for taxi tests.
Designer 2: Great idea! Hmm, I get this feeling we're missing something....
Designer 1: You mean world war 2? Ha ha ha ha! (you see, it's an old design, so I thought I'd add something topical)
Designer 2: Well, I wouldn't say I've been MISSING it, but.. no, there's something else.
Designer 1: While you think of that, let me just put the W&B sheet in the back pocket of the seat here....wait...
(both designers): Uh-oh.
Designer 2: This complicates things.
Designer 1: I agree. Any suggestions?
Designer 2: Well, I recently read this new book by a fellow named Tolkien....
We go out to the airplane and I am immediately struck by the fact that this craft has an excess of doors. I have been learning in the one door Piper Warrior, so I immediately decide that having two doors is an extravagance, but I'm willing to go with the flow.
I climb into the left seat. When I write it, it looks so simple on the screen. The shortness of that sentence is deceptive. It's akin to "I made the atomic bomb, then set it off." The actual process of inserting my 6'2, 260lb frame into the aircraft shared traits in common with the ancient art of 'origami', also known as 'goodness, what a clever thing to do with that doggy bag, Mr. Waiter!'. I examined and immediately discarded the idea of using the step on the landing gear. I carefully stretched my right leg into the cockpit, then performed a complex dance where I attempted to coerce the rest of my body to spontaneously flow in after it. Half a minute and a couple brushes with death later, I was seated. Once I was in place, it wasn't so bad, and I began to second guess my earlier augenblick determination that the plane was too small. Seconds later, however, my instructor joined me in the cockpit and I realized immediately that my initial impression was, if anything, generously optimistic.
The two of us were pressed in pretty snugly, and I had a momentary flash of what it must feel like inside a sardine can. The only thing missing was the overpowering smell of fishy olive oil, but I figured that the day was young and I shouldn't make any assumptions.
After some maneuvering and adjusting, I decided that this would work, especially after I get checked out in the plane and have the cockpit to myself.
We scheduled a flight, and I went back to work and made some nice checklists and had them laminated.
Tuesday afternoon, I met up with Paul at the airport and went and preflighted the plane for the first time. I was very slow and methodical, as it was my first time pre-flighting a Cessna, and I had a couple of questions about some things that are different. For example, the Cessna (like the Piper) has its fuel stored in the wings. Unlike the Piper, the wings are located atop the aircraft in an entirely inconvenient manner. Consequently, to check the tanks, you have to climb atop the plane and perch precariously while you check the levels, verify fuel quality, etc. Getting down from the plane was closer to a controlled fall then a descent, but I've managed it so far without major injury.
I started up the plane, taxied out to the runup, and when we were done, did a 360 pirouette to look for traffic (the airport is completely uncontrolled) and then took off.
The plane was very different feeling, and as we maneuvered, I felt like I was learning from the beginning all over again. Different speeds, different sounds, it got my attention. I did stalls, steep turns, climbing and descending turns, etc. The instructor seemed pretty satisfied with most of my flying, reassuring me whenever I berated myself that it was a new plane, then noting my immediate improvement when I got it right the next try. As it turned out, all the same concepts worked the same way and, after a little practice, I could pull off the same precision of flying as I did in my other plane, so I was heartened.
We ran out of time, so I brought us back for a landing and we scheduled another flight for Thursday to go over flights to Eugene (so I know my alternate) and emergency procedures.
(continued)
