Adventures in Aviation, Part Six

Hmm, where do I begin. Let’s just say that I had nightmares the night after my second official flight lesson. Nightmares in the sense that I was dreaming I was still in the cockpit stressed out beyond comprehension. I even forgot to take pictures (pictures below are from our Thanksgiving trip, where I was a happy and coherent passenger). That’s what this Adventure in Aviation should be called: Stressed Out Beyond Comprehension.

Me: So, why is it that we are practicing slow flight when it’s my understanding that we never want to be flying through the air so slow that we are just above stall speed? I’m not sure when I would ever use this.
Mr. Instructor: Jocelyn, it’s because every time you come in for landing you are utilizing slow flight. It’s very important to practice it. Even more so when we are well above the ground so there is plenty of time to recover.
Me: Oh, ok.

25 minutes later …

Me: I’m still a little confused on when I would use slow flight. Aren’t I trying to use the airplane to get me from point A to point B as quickly and efficiently as possible? Slow flight doesn’t seem very efficient and it puts us very close to the dangerous predicament of a stall.
Mr. Instructor: Like I said, it’s important to practice slow flight because you are utilizing it every time you come in for landing. Just try to remember that.
Me: Oh, ok.

25 minutes later …

You get the point don’t you? I was stressssssed out beyond comprehension.

The day started off swell. The weather was nice and Camarillo was reporting only 5 knot gusts. I was excited to finally get back in the air after taking a week off since my last (and first official) flight lesson. Although I did think of some crazy things during the drive: “Lovies, did you ever think that you were going to die just before going for a flight lesson? Cause I’m thinking of all the potential hazards that might kill me today: birds, other planes, engine shutting off, motor exploding.”
“No. Did you ever think you were going to die when you were 16 and just learning to drive?”
“I guess not. Well, actually, I probably did in the beginning. It was a long time ago. I don’t remember. Nevermind. I’m fine.”

I was responsible for pulling the plane out of the hangar by myself. I mention this because it was a big deal for me since I had never done it before, and it made me realize that I’m not going to have the luxury of Wes babysitting me every time I take a flight lesson (although I think it should be mandatory). I completed the walk-around and refueled the plane with the help of Mr. Instructor. I almost forgot to put the oil tank cap back on after checking the oil, which Mr. I vociferously cautioned against since I could have “caused the engine to explode mid flight” or something to that extent. Fun!

After a successful taxi and run-up, we are lined up ready for take off. Take off’s always exciting. I haven’t done very many, especially since I think Mr. I dominates the controls on the take off (for his and my safety I’m sure), but it’s exhilarating to feel the plane with so much power and the wings lift, lift, lifting you off the ground. Once we’re airborne the real fun starts.

Mr I: Today is your second flight lesson, which will basically be a review of everything we did in lesson 1, but think we will go ahead and practice slow flight as well. To prepare for slow flight, you will need to operate the throttle and the flaps, decrease your power, then pitch up to maintain lift and airspeed, as well as use you right rudder. We want to get the plane flying slow, right before the point where it stalls.

Ya, so whatever he said, which sounded easy and straightforward, was not. Holy cow is that plane hard to fly when your noise is pointed straight up and you are going 45-55 knots! I’m trying to maintain my designated heading AND altitude, while the plane is squishing and squirming like a dying fish on dry land. Try to maintain control of one of those. It’s not fun, and I guarantee one of you won't make it out alive.

Thankfully after practicing, practicing, questioning (see above) and then practicing some more, I completed 1.7 hours of (slow) flight training. Mr. I would have liked to practice some touch-and-goes, but those 5 knot gusts turned into 20-25 knot gusts, and our little light sport does not do well with those. I couldn’t have been happier to see the runway as we were coming in for landing. I think I was more alert and aware during those last 10 minutes of flight than I have ever been. And when we landed I even wanted to talk on the radios! “Camarillo ground, light sport niner-one-niner-echo, clear of active at bravo, requesting taxi to east end.”

Hallelujah. Now just give me my two 30 pound flight training manuals and a glass of wine. I’ve got some serious reading to do.

Happy (After) Thanksgiving!

I hope everyone had a happy, hearty and safe Thanksgiving! Mine started off with a little of this:

Valium.
(names have been removed to protect the innocent ... and no, it was not for me)

and this:

Blue skies and sunshine.

plus this:

Airplanes!

It was a busy weekend. Ranch activities and another edition of Adventures in Aviation coming up!

Project CB - An Update

This morning's weigh in: 135.4 lbs.

This morning's culinary activities: I made corn bread and an apple pie.

Conclusion: Project Champagne Butt stands no chance during Thanksgiving week.

Afterthought: There are areas on my bottom that look like something which rhymes with mottage wheeze.

A Serious Case of the Snuggles

One of my favorite weekend activities is snuggling. It also happens on the weeknights, but the weekend is where we do some serious, down-to-business, no nonsense snuggling. We lay down at night knowing we won’t have to get up early the next morning and we lounge in bed until we are good and ready to get up. I’m a lucky lady to have a man that takes his snuggling seriously (probably more seriously than I do), but living with a professional snuggler has its disadvantages. I imagine it’s like living with a professional football player. Your whole life becomes about football; it revolves around it.

“Sorry honey. We can’t go out tonight. I’ve got a game later.”
Or in my case, “Are you sure you want to go out? We could get into our sweats and snuggle. Doesn’t snuggling sound better than driving 30 minutes to hang out in a noisy bar? We could rent a movie to go with our snuggle. What do you think?”

In most cases I would concur, because I’m a homebody who fully realizes that I can have a WHOLE BOTTLE of wine for the same price as what a GLASS of wine would cost in a bar. Oh, and yes, I do like to stay home and snuggle. But some nights are meant for taking a walk on the wild side and staying out PAST 8:30pm. And on Saturday night we did just that.

“Woohoo! Are you excited to be going out Lovies?”

“Ah, come on. We never go out. I’m excited!”

 
(30 minutes later)

“Wow, it’s so pretty at night. We never get to see Downtown at night!”

“Ooo, look at all the buildings.”

We arrive at our destination, but it's not long before the novelty begins to wear off.

(30 minutes later)

“Wow, it’s so noisy and dark in here. Guess this is what it’s like to “go out” on a Saturday night.”
“Ya, don’t you wish we were back at home in the warm house all snuggled up?”
“Geez, alright. Just a little bit longer since we came all this way. How about we stop at the taco truck on the way out and I get you some tacos for the ride home?”
“Ok, and THEN we’ll go home and snuggle.”

A Walk Down Memory Lane

I used to work in the entertainment industry. More specifically, I was one of two assistants to a motion picture literary agent with A-list clientele (I'll save the name dropping for another time). I was freshly out of college and it was my first "big girl" job. I had always wanted to work in the entertainment industry and spent many of my college years completing internships to build my resume. It was only logical to send my resume to the biggest studios, agencies and production companies in town once I graduated with a degree in International Development Studies. What does it mean to have a degree in International Development Studies? I could, theoretically, tell you something about Africa, something about dictatorships, war, famine, socio-economic-political inequality… and ya, stuff like that. How is it logical that obtaining such a degree would qualify me to work in the entertainment industry? It isn't and it doesn't. But when you say you have a degree in "International Development Studies" it sounds like "I am so smart and compassionate that I am qualified to do anything, even run for President; and no I do not have the time to explain what my degree means because I am too busy feeding starving African babies. Thank you."

In hindsight, that August and the year that followed would change my whole outlook on life. No longer was I a wistless college student who complained about people demanding too much of her; now I had to juggle the responsibilities of a real job with people whose demands ALWAYS became the priority:

"Bikini wax appointments should never be made when someone is on their period! You're supposed to know these things! It's your job! Reschedule it now!" (whew, just needed to get that out)

It makes me laugh to realize how naïve I was before starting this job. Here's what I mean:
August 18, 2007
Dear Friend,
Guess what! I'm going to be working as an assistant for a senior motion picture literary agent at one of the biggest agencies in town! She basically has the job that I have only dreamt about; coordinating writers and directors (her clients) to the funding, studios and other key components to see that these people's movies get made. She also pulls her talent/clients from the international market as she is constantly attending film festivals. Well, that's what I've been told so far, as my first day will be Monday. Exciting isn't it?

Oh, Jocelyn. You really had no idea what was in store for you. Silly you.

An Aerial Perspective on Life

Some people want to get married in a church. I prefer the rolling fields of a dusty cattle ranch.

Some people want a big, lavish wedding with hundreds of guests. I prefer an intimate gathering with as many people as are able to fit on this pad.

Some people get so caught up in the day-to-day that the world just passes them by. I prefer to stop once and a while and marvel at the beauty of this universe.

Some people take comfort knowing they are marrying the man or woman of their dreams. I take comfort knowing that he’s the man of my dreams, AND he also happens to be a gangsta.

Some people think they can make it through life all by themselves. I used to think that, but now I know that even if I could, I wouldn’t want to go through life without my copilot.

XOXO Jelly

Some people forget that both marriage and life are supposed to be adventures. I welcome the adventure and try to focus on the positive.

Adventures in Aviation, Part Cinq

This weekend marked my first official flying lesson. Official meaning: I FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING WRITTEN IN MY LOGBOOK and I’M STILL ALIVE. Yes!

It was all planned out. Saturday we would go to the airport and I would take my lesson with Mr. Instructor, while my Lovies worked on things in the hangar and perhaps fit in some flying of his own. Then the weather happened. Wind gusts up to 30 knots do not make for the most ideal flying weather, especially when the plane weighs like 30 lbs. Yes that was a gross exaggeration, the plane weighs like 32 lbs, but the point is that the weather is one of the most important elements to be aware of when you’re flying. Winds, icing, all that jazz; you’ve got to be on top of it. So my flying lesson got pushed to Sunday, and I got to do yard work instead.

The winds were still blowing on Sunday morning, but they had subsided enough to make taking a flying lesson safe. Then as we’re driving to the airport, I realize “Holy cow, I’ve never been in an airplane without my Lovies, let alone responsible for flying the thing!” I guess that’s not really true, considering all the commercial flights I’ve taken with strangers, but at the time all I could think of was how nervous I was and how strange flying with Mr. Instructor would be. I’ve got flying dependency issues. Probably should break those before I fly SOLO. Don’t worry, that won’t be for a looong time.

We arrive at the airport early, giving me enough time to center my thoughts and calm my nervousness. Mr. Instructor arrives and goes over the basic certification and documentation requirements, which I quickly confuse because now the anticipation of getting in the plane and flying is distracting me. We do a walk-around, get in the plane, and then it starts. Switches are flicked, buttons are pushed, something about the choke, something about the throttle, press that big red button, propeller is turning, “no keeping holding down the red button until it starts!”, engine is alive, “ok now start heading towards the taxiway.” I think “Wow it’s happening so fast. Thank goodness I know how to taxi.”

We make our way down the taxiway towards the runway. No other planes are around which is perfect, because now I can focus on our plane and what Mr. Instructor is saying without being distracted by other people. “Mr. Instructor is saying so much and I’m having trouble trying to listen to him while not crashing this airplane! Wait, what? You’re telling me it’s my plane? But we’re about to enter the active runway, which means we’re going to have to takeoff, and I’ve never done this before… Oh crap, too late.” At this point, perhaps by divine intervention, I’ve successfully operated both the throttle and stick and we are airborne.

Being in the air is thrilling. “The takeoff was scary, but I sort of conquered it, and now I’m in a more familiar element. I can do turns and fly the pattern so lay it on me Mr. Instructor!” Total time my confidence lasts: 2 minutes. As soon as we’re heading east into unfamiliar territory I get nervous. And then Mr. Instructor directs me to head towards 170 (on a compass, north is 360 degrees and south is 180 degrees). Except at 170 there is a big freaking MOUNTAIN. I do not like to fly towards, around, by, over, under, anything a mountain unless it is completely necessary. Call me crazy.

Mr. I: Now start a left turn. No, a steeper banked turn.

Me: Uh, you want me to turn in front of the mountain? Cause I was going to go around it.

Mr. I: No, turn in front of it.

Me: Are you sure? Do you think we will clear it?

Mr. I: Yes, we are well above it.

Me (unsaid): Oh sweet petunias, I sure hope you’re right!

I should have clicked my radio on so my Lovies could have heard that conversation. He was listening to us on the radio as we flew around.

We’ve been flying for what seems like an hour and my nerves are shot. Mr. Instructor apologizes that he has to cut today’s lesson shorter than normal; he would love to fly longer since we’re doing so well, but how about we head back to the airport and do one round of pattern work before we’re finished. Somehow I equate this to mean: Mr. Instructor will now land the plane; my job here is done. Not so fast. “Wait, what? You’re telling me it’s my plane? But we’re about to do a touch-and-go, which means we’re going to have to land and then immediately takeoff again, and I’ve never done this before… Oh crap, too late. Man, this keeps happening!” 

But look! That little spec is us!

When we finally land for a complete stop (airplane language for we are done with our flight), I am sweaty, fried yet have an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment.

As intense as that lesson was, I can’t wait to get back in the air and practice more and more.

Cowabunga!