It's never a perfect day
One hundred years after Orville and Wilbur's first flight, I could no longer ignore my dreams of flight. One morning en route to work, my car suddenly yawed into the entrance of San Diego's Brown Field Municipal Airport. I entered the first FBO I could find, and, nine hours of flight instruction later, I was getting ready to solo an aircraft.
It was another perfect winter day in San Diego, 70 degrees and a slight haze indicating calm air. I had already completed three touch and goes in the Grumman AA-1C Lynx when my instructor asked me to turn off at Taxiway Golf. After doing so, he instructed me to pull up to the control tower, and he exited the aircraft.
"You're more than ready," my CFI smiled. "Go do three touch and goes. I will be up in the tower watching and listening. Any questions, remember, just communicate."
Finally, my day was here. I had been dreaming of this day for a long time, and I felt competent and well-prepared for the task at hand. What could possibly go wrong? After all, it was a perfect day.
After pulling into the run-up area, I checked the windsock and pointed my aircraft's nose into the wind for runup. Magneto check good, instruments in the green, transponder set to ALT, trim tab centered, carb heat off, fuel pump on -- check, check, and double-check everything.
Five minutes later, I was cleared to enter Runway 26R. Just as I had read in previous issues of AOPA Flight Training, the aircraft wanted to fly just a little bit earlier than normal as compared to having an instructor next to me. Wow, there really is a difference without my good ol' CFI "lead pants" next to me.
I leveled out for speed, trimming the aircraft for a climbout at 80 kt (VY). Turning crosswind for right traffic, I quickly reached traffic pattern altitude of 1,500 feet msl, trimming the aircraft for level flight. Throttling back to 1,800 rpm at midfield and trimming the aircraft for 77 kt, I was on my way to my first landing. The first touch and go went well, although I ballooned just a bit, as I was still adjusting to not having that extra CFI weight.
Throttling up for the next touch and go, I can honestly say I was really enjoying myself. There I was at Brown Field, big runways, no traffic, gaining confidence with radio use and the typical multitasking. Things are going well, I thought.
On the last segment of the downwind leg for the second touch and go, I had the aircraft trimmed perfectly at 77 kt. The tower cleared me for a touch and go on Runway 26R, so I turned base for final. I double-checked the airspeed -- 85 kt. I have a tendency to let the nose of the aircraft drop on the base turns, and therefore the speed was increasing. This bad habit was exacerbated only by the fact that the Lynx, although a great trainer, is a flying brick. With short wings, the Lynx really likes to drop once you come back on the throttle. No problem -- pitch, power, trim. I quickly reconfigured the aircraft and had the approach speed well in control. The altitude looked good, and I was going to nail the numbers. Then, I saw it.
Somehow, the aircraft holding short for Runway 26R thought my clearance to land was its clearance to enter the active runway and roll. There it was, a beautiful Cessna Citation sitting right smack dab in the middle of the numbers that I had planned to nail. Just as I began to move my thumb to the PTT switch to request a go-around, I heard the tower give the Citation a few choice words. Then the controller asked me, "Grumman, do you want to go around or can you steer over to Two-Six Left?"
Well, since that Citation was getting bigger every second, I had better make a decision quickly. I was about 500 feet above ground level, the wind was calm, and I was in control. "Tower," I replied, "Grumman, touch and go Two-Six Left."
With a slight left aileron and a slight addition of 100 rpm power, I gently steered over and nailed the touch and go on Runway 26L. I began thinking about all the solo stories that I had read in AOPA Flight Training. That's what I love the most about flying. All that you study, read, and hear from your instructor comes to life in the cockpit on every flight. You experience an aeronautical epiphany every time you fly during your flight training.
Remembering I was in left traffic now with a new pattern altitude, I was completing the third and final landing to a full stop. At midfield on the downwind leg, I heard something on the radio. "Tower, this is Citabria [identification omitted]. I am somewhere just east of the airport, and I am lost. I would appreciate some assistance!"
This guy wasn't just lost. He was lost and afraid, and you could hear it in his voice. Approaching the base leg, I heard a request from the tower. "Grumman, can you see any aircraft to the east of the airport?"
There I was, my first solo and I had already seen a runway incursion, I was busy configuring the aircraft for the landing (pitch, power, trim, airport orientation, pattern altitude), and now they wanted me to look for a lost aircraft and panicking pilot!
Did I mention that Brown Field is parallel to Tijuana International Airport? A pilot can become distracted (or lost) in this area and accidentally attempt to land in Tijuana.
"Tower, this is Grumman, negative traffic, looking."
While the controller was leading the lost Citabria back to the airport, he gave me clearance to land, full stop, on Runway 26L.
I turned base and performed another good landing. When I exited the aircraft, my instructor applauded and then tore off my shirt back and wrote on it, "It's all too easy, 1st Solo, December 14, 2002." I had to ask him why he signed it, "all too easy," because it didn't seem that easy to me.
"Because it wasn't," he replied. "You did a good job making it look all too easy by keeping your cool, not overreacting, thinking first, and using common sense. You handled the runway incursion very well. As I have always instructed you, you always must be thinking ahead of the airplane, and you did just that. You made it look all too easy."
He added, "It's amazing how quickly a simple and easy stroll around the block on a perfect day can suddenly become quite exciting, isn't it? Always be prepared."
The practice and training had made it feel all too easy. But I can tell you from experience that regardless of the weather, it's never a perfect day. A good pilot is always prepared, thinking ahead -- and of course, always learning.
"Learning Experiences" is presented to enhance safety by providing a forum for students and pilots to learn from the experiences of others. It is intended to provoke thought and discussion, acknowledging that actions taken by the authors were not necessarily the best choices under the circumstances. We encourage you to discuss any questions you have about a particular scenario with your flight instructor.
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