Trent, my instructor, was a pretty good young fellow, who gave lessons enroute to building his hours so he could apply to an airline where he had hopes of making big bucks. He had a good sense of humor and put up with my stiff, heavy-handedness on the controls as I learned to transport two souls into the great blue beyond.
We spent lots of time doing touch-and-gos, pattern work, and numerous
maneuvers designed to demonstrate a proficiency at handling the (Cessna) 172 Skyhawk. Other than when I initially flew with my eyes closed (it's s'posed to be that way -- part of a maneuver to demonstrate recovery from unusual attitudes), I surprised myself and overcame an early tendency to get airsick.I began my lessons on July 10, 1998 and soloed on December 5 of that same year. It was my goal to solo in November, but Trent must have seen something in my less than stellar preparation that led him to put me through some more drills. So, on December 1st and 3rd, I spent almost an hour each day just doing take-offs and landings that looked acceptable to him. Then the next day, I did almost an hour on go-arounds, and landings (normal and cross-wind).
I came to the airport on the 5th expecting ol' Trent just to say "Take 'er up, Mike -- you're obviously the best pilot it's ever been my privilege to instruct."
Guess what -- he didn't even say anything like that. I think I might have been a bit miffed at that point, but certainly wasn't going to yap at the guy who's signature was my future in aviation. So, I got the plane ready and off we went to another 3/4 hour of steep turns, slow flight, stalls and landings. After four landings, Trent said to pull over to the side of the runway and let him out!! My God -- it wasn't that bad, was it? Nope. He said "Take 'er up and go around the pattern some and give me 3 or 4 landings and let's see how it goes." My first solo.
I've read about how light the plane seems, how it seems to list to the left because the right seat is now empty, and how it seems to jump off the runway and float when it's landing. All of it is true. But boy, what a rush anyhow!!
When I landed and taxied back to the hanger, I figured Trent must have forgotten about me because he wasn't there with the band and the confetti. Once I turned off the engine, however, I did see him coming out
of the office with a pair of scissors -- oh, oh. He told me to pull my T-shirt out and he proceeded to cut out the back of it. That's an old custom when one passes his first solo -- the instructor cuts the back of the shirt out.In the old days of bi-planes, when the pilot and instructor sat one in front of the other and there was no intercom, the instructor would pull on the student's shirt to indicate where he was to turn, fly or maneuver. Cutting the shirt is a time-honored tradition indicating the student no longer needs the instructor tugging at him. He is now able to fly by himself... well, sort-of. Another custom is to draw some sort of airplane scene on the cut out part and get it signed by the instructor (and any witnesses) and then post it in the weather briefing shack until the next student earned that status.
Mine was up for about 5 or 6 months. Not many solos in the dead of winter.
"When you come to the edge of all the light you have known, and are about to step out into darkness, Faith is knowing one of two things will happen; There will be something to stand on, or you will be taught to fly." (Richard Bach)
Hooah
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