A Lift Up - Part III

Soaring. That's what it's called when you gain altitude in a glider through no influence other than nature itself. Just descending to the ground is called gliding. Soaring is also the mood and feeling I anticipated when I used to dream of what it must be like to fly without the noise of an engine.

In my first solo flight, without an instructor behind me to make up for any mistakes or distract me with instructions, apprehension was my partner, but so was excited anticipation. Soon after reaching altitude, I went in search of lift. During training we had taken a couple of occasions to use thermals to stay aloft and practice steep turns, but always with the constraint of the need to get down at some point to practice landings and other maneuvers. This time I was free to follow my own pursuits.

Climbing 2,000 to 4,000 feet with no thrust other than what solar heating and wind could provide caused me to lose track of time. During training, our average flight time was between 7 to 16 minutes. In my first solo flight, I soared for thirty minutes and fifty minutes in the second flight. Because of expected high winds the next day, to stay on schedule meant getting all of my required 10 flights in on that day. The nearly two hours of the first two flights left me about two hours to get in another eight flights. Those were done with minimum altitude releases, eight landings in succession. It turned out to be a great way to hone those landings and their respective approaches. By the end of the day I was  incredibly gratified - and exhausted.

After declaring me ready for my FAA check ride, I intensified my study for the oral exam. The exam  consists of a written scenario of the examiners choosing that contains a number of points that can be used by the examiner to test your comprehension. I do just fine on multiple choice quizzes and essays, but not so much on the "fill in the blank" variety, which require specific memorization. The scenario approach would be a series of "what would you do," questions, followed by specific questions that get after the specific data required to remain legal and competent. Every available hour prior to the exam outside of flying and eating was spent rehearsing numbers, principles, and regulations.

Landing right on target

The FAA examiner that came out on a Sunday morning to certify me was a commercial pilot trainer for American Airlines by trade, and a practical aviator by passion. Very familiar with the letter of the law, he focused more time on my understanding of the principles of flight. He was also generous in framing the question to help rather than interrogate. When I'd demur in a particular response, he'd reframe the question to spark my memory and give me another avenue with which to arrive at the answer. While he was thorough, and with less than a stellar performance on my part, we still finished in less than the allotted time and proceeded to the flight exam.

The relief of getting through the oral left me upbeat and optimistic about the assessment of my skills and practices of safe flight. We went through all of the maneuvers listed in the certification standards without comment. Landings resulted in touchdown and roll out within the prescribed runway landing zones. In fact, as my instructor relayed later, I had met the landing requirements within the specifications for a commercial pilot. It was all I could do to behave like a mature adult and contain my boyish exuberance as the examiner signed my pilot certification and logbook. The license now reads, "Airplane Single Engine Land, Airplane Single Engine Sea, Glider."