I earned my Private Pilot (Land) license in the mid to late 90's flying Piper Cherokee's (I have no idea how two grown men can fit in a Cessna 150) and subsequently got checked out on the Warrior, Archer as well as the Cessna 172. Having trained on then makes me bias towards Piper. I just didn't like the slow roll rate of the Cessna with accompanying blind spot going into a turn, the cheesy push-pull knob as throttle and the fact that when you got below a certain RPM you had to put on the carb heat regardless of temp. Sadly I haven't flown at all since 1998. After I brought up all the friends who would go with me and went to all the places my wallet could afford I guess I kind of lost interest somewhat. I know, horror of all horrors right?
Any how, I did my flight training out of Republic Airport here on Long Island. (Yes, that Republic – think P-47 etc.) My first solo flight was the closest I believe I will come to a totally Zen experience. I am at a loss to describe the feeling of calm and confidence that came over me at that moment, even as the tower shuttled me from runway to runway, keeping me clear of traffic. Absolutely amazing and sadly never repeated. At the end of training I wanted to be one of the last to take the face-to-face written exam as the FAA was phasing that out at the time, but just couldn't get my ducks in a row in time and had to take the computer one. Flew to Danbury, Connecticut and took my flight test with an old B-17 pilot. After what seemed like ten minutes of me at the controls he takes over. At this point I figured I had committed some major transgression and had failed. Turns out he just wanted to show-off, capping off his performance by landing using just the rudder and throttle. A real airman. So we land and I'm feeling all rejected until he stops himself halfway out the aircraft, turns and congratulates me for passing! Wtf? Anyway the last bit of drama comes when I reach for my wallet to pay him and find it's missing! Turns out I left it in the pilots lounge and some Good Samaritan turned it in for me. Whew. Ultimately getting my ticket was a bit anticlimactic, my life didn't change, no one was home when I called to tell them, and I just ended up going to diner with my parents to the Olive Garden. Oh well, life is still good.
Any how, I did my flight training out of Republic Airport here on Long Island. (Yes, that Republic – think P-47 etc.) My first solo flight was the closest I believe I will come to a totally Zen experience. I am at a loss to describe the feeling of calm and confidence that came over me at that moment, even as the tower shuttled me from runway to runway, keeping me clear of traffic. Absolutely amazing and sadly never repeated. At the end of training I wanted to be one of the last to take the face-to-face written exam as the FAA was phasing that out at the time, but just couldn't get my ducks in a row in time and had to take the computer one. Flew to Danbury, Connecticut and took my flight test with an old B-17 pilot. After what seemed like ten minutes of me at the controls he takes over. At this point I figured I had committed some major transgression and had failed. Turns out he just wanted to show-off, capping off his performance by landing using just the rudder and throttle. A real airman. So we land and I'm feeling all rejected until he stops himself halfway out the aircraft, turns and congratulates me for passing! Wtf? Anyway the last bit of drama comes when I reach for my wallet to pay him and find it's missing! Turns out I left it in the pilots lounge and some Good Samaritan turned it in for me. Whew. Ultimately getting my ticket was a bit anticlimactic, my life didn't change, no one was home when I called to tell them, and I just ended up going to diner with my parents to the Olive Garden. Oh well, life is still good.
