Student pilots aren’t the only ones making their first solo—new flight instructors also have to face the event on their own. Just like students, CFIs can see that first solo flight looming on the horizon, filling them with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. It has to happen sometime...but when?
If a student asks me, “When will I solo?” I just say, “When you’re ready.” Or, more factually, “When you don’t need me any more.” I can come up with any number of parameters, such as checking all the syllabus boxes and entering the endorsements, but none of these answer the basic question: How can you know when it’s time to let them go?
Covering material, logging training, and preparing endorsements does not qualify a student for solo flight. The CFI must verify that the training has been absorbed and, more important, will be used to make unaided decisions. The evidence of learning is performance—not directed performance, but performance demonstrated without input from the instructor.
Not perfect, but safe. When I mentor first-time CFIs from my position of having soloed hundreds of students, I primarily repeat what my original supervising instructor told me. Among his words of wisdom are “They aren’t going to get any better until they solo and do it on their own,” and “They don’t have to be perfect, just safe.” What he meant was, don’t demand private pilot standards before you let them go solo. Remember, the purpose of solo flight is to allow students to develop skills in a supervised setting.
It’s important for a solo student to know what action to take when things happen in the course of a flight, such as when another airplane shows up on the frequency or on the runway. He or she must understand when and how to go around from a botched landing, and how to recognize the signs of a weather change, like blowing dust, dropping visibility, or scud. Even with careful supervision, there are plenty of decisions for a solo student to make. The CFI must verify, by observing reaction and unprompted response, that a student pilot can take charge.
So, how do we know when it’s time to go? I start by asking myself, “Have I been actively doing anything recently?” That is, what has been my role in the teaching process? As we approach the solo point, we gradually assume a passive role, quietly waiting for the student to make his or her own corrections, watching for the timeliness and appropriateness of decisions made without our input. This does not mean there are no errors, but rather that errors are handled without our stimulation, including going around.
Assuming that I’ve not been required to act to avoid a compounded error, I then ask the student, “What should you have done differently that time?” to see if they can self-critique to improve the results. If he or she can explain the error of their ways, solo is rapidly approaching.
Next, we must make sure the student’s acceptable performance is not because of luck—maybe they’re just having a good day. I prefer to see the same good work repeated on a subsequent lesson before I view it as solo quality. And finally, I am looking for consistent outcomes—not necessarily identical circuits around the pattern, but takeoffs and landings that are corrected to roughly the same level of result—on target, on speed, under control.
If the student delivers three consistent, unaided takeoffs, climb-outs, traffic pattern legs, approaches, and landings, I will open my door, carefully fold in the belts, and tell him or her, “Take it around by yourself, just keep doing what you’ve been doing.” Then, if there’s no protest (never force a genuinely reluctant student to solo), shut the door and walk away, without hesitation or eye contact. The idea is to have the student continue without interrupting the flow of pattern work, so nervousness is minimized.
Keep it safe and enjoyable.
Control the environment to bias it toward safety and success. Launch first solos only on a day with benign, familiar weather conditions, with at least an extra hour of fuel and daylight remaining over what will be needed. Have a means of communication available if things go awry, but don’t plan on using it; if you expect your student will need advice or encouragement from the ground, you shouldn’t be soloing them. If possible, stay within sight as the student takes off, so he’ll know you’re watching. Observe the liftoff and climb; its smoothness is a precursor to a good landing.
Again, if possible, be in position to meet the student as he or she taxis in from the first landing; pop the door and offer congratulatory encouragement, even if it wasn’t perfect, then send them off for another one. I do not tell them to “make three landings by yourself” at the outset, I wait until I see the first one before I make the decision to continue. Usually, three is about the right number. If the airport layout allows, have them taxi to the ramp and shut down alone after the final landing, just to complete the feeling of accomplishment.
Never schedule the first solo flight, other than in your mind. First solos are always based on “if”—they should only take place if weather, performance, and completed requirements fall into line. Neither do I want the distraction of friends and family lining the runway. In cases where they are on hand, I have been known to climb out of the airplane with a hangar blocking the view; the crowd can find out later that I wasn’t in the airplane.
Rightfully so, the first solo is a celebratory occasion, but it’s also a teaching moment. My speech goes, “From now on, we share the training duties; solo practice is twice as productive as dual, because the CFI is an unavoidable distraction. However, you, the student, must challenge yourself to repeat a task until it’s mastered. Do your preparation to make sure your time is spent wisely. Solo is only the first rung on a tall ladder, an important rung, to be sure, but only a beginning.”
A CFI’s first solo is an event never to be forgotten, just like the student’s milestone. Each time it’s repeated, you’ll recall previous times and take pride in the raw clay you’ve molded and brought to life. Savor the accomplishment!
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Student pilots aren’t the only ones making their first solo—new flight instructors also have to face the event on their own. Just like students, CFIs can see that first solo flight looming on the horizon, filling them with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. It has to happen sometime...but when?
If a student asks me, “When will I solo?” I just say, “When you’re ready.” Or, more factually, “When you don’t need me any more.” I can come up with any number of parameters, such as checking all the syllabus boxes and entering the endorsements, but none of these answer the basic question: How can you know when it’s time to let them go?
Covering material, logging training, and preparing endorsements does not qualify a student for solo flight. The CFI must verify that the training has been absorbed and, more important, will be used to make unaided decisions. The evidence of learning is performance—not directed performance, but performance demonstrated without input from the instructor.
Not perfect, but safe. When I mentor first-time CFIs from my position of having soloed hundreds of students, I primarily repeat what my original supervising instructor told me. Among his words of wisdom are “They aren’t going to get any better until they solo and do it on their own,” and “They don’t have to be perfect, just safe.” What he meant was, don’t demand private pilot standards before you let them go solo. Remember, the purpose of solo flight is to allow students to develop skills in a supervised setting.
It’s important for a solo student to know what action to take when things happen in the course of a flight, such as when another airplane shows up on the frequency or on the runway. He or she must understand when and how to go around from a botched landing, and how to recognize the signs of a weather change, like blowing dust, dropping visibility, or scud. Even with careful supervision, there are plenty of decisions for a solo student to make. The CFI must verify, by observing reaction and unprompted response, that a student pilot can take charge.
So, how do we know when it’s time to go? I start by asking myself, “Have I been actively doing anything recently?” That is, what has been my role in the teaching process? As we approach the solo point, we gradually assume a passive role, quietly waiting for the student to make his or her own corrections, watching for the timeliness and appropriateness of decisions made without our input. This does not mean there are no errors, but rather that errors are handled without our stimulation, including going around.
Assuming that I’ve not been required to act to avoid a compounded error, I then ask the student, “What should you have done differently that time?” to see if they can self-critique to improve the results. If he or she can explain the error of their ways, solo is rapidly approaching.
Next, we must make sure the student’s acceptable performance is not because of luck—maybe they’re just having a good day. I prefer to see the same good work repeated on a subsequent lesson before I view it as solo quality. And finally, I am looking for consistent outcomes—not necessarily identical circuits around the pattern, but takeoffs and landings that are corrected to roughly the same level of result—on target, on speed, under control.
If the student delivers three consistent, unaided takeoffs, climb-outs, traffic pattern legs, approaches, and landings, I will open my door, carefully fold in the belts, and tell him or her, “Take it around by yourself, just keep doing what you’ve been doing.” Then, if there’s no protest (never force a genuinely reluctant student to solo), shut the door and walk away, without hesitation or eye contact. The idea is to have the student continue without interrupting the flow of pattern work, so nervousness is minimized.
Keep it safe and enjoyable.
Control the environment to bias it toward safety and success. Launch first solos only on a day with benign, familiar weather conditions, with at least an extra hour of fuel and daylight remaining over what will be needed. Have a means of communication available if things go awry, but don’t plan on using it; if you expect your student will need advice or encouragement from the ground, you shouldn’t be soloing them. If possible, stay within sight as the student takes off, so he’ll know you’re watching. Observe the liftoff and climb; its smoothness is a precursor to a good landing.
Again, if possible, be in position to meet the student as he or she taxis in from the first landing; pop the door and offer congratulatory encouragement, even if it wasn’t perfect, then send them off for another one. I do not tell them to “make three landings by yourself” at the outset, I wait until I see the first one before I make the decision to continue. Usually, three is about the right number. If the airport layout allows, have them taxi to the ramp and shut down alone after the final landing, just to complete the feeling of accomplishment.
Never schedule the first solo flight, other than in your mind. First solos are always based on “if”—they should only take place if weather, performance, and completed requirements fall into line. Neither do I want the distraction of friends and family lining the runway. In cases where they are on hand, I have been known to climb out of the airplane with a hangar blocking the view; the crowd can find out later that I wasn’t in the airplane.
Rightfully so, the first solo is a celebratory occasion, but it’s also a teaching moment. My speech goes, “From now on, we share the training duties; solo practice is twice as productive as dual, because the CFI is an unavoidable distraction. However, you, the student, must challenge yourself to repeat a task until it’s mastered. Do your preparation to make sure your time is spent wisely. Solo is only the first rung on a tall ladder, an important rung, to be sure, but only a beginning.”
A CFI’s first solo is an event never to be forgotten, just like the student’s milestone. Each time it’s repeated, you’ll recall previous times and take pride in the raw clay you’ve molded and brought to life. Savor the accomplishment!
Related Articles