When I started all this, the intention was just to learn to land the plane so we wouldn't have to crash if something happened to Bo. After six years in the right seat, I thought maybe I could get it on the ground if I had to, but wasn't sure. After the first lesson, I was sure. I couldn't.
On one of the early lessons, three or four, we had to go to Gainesville to get gas. On the way back, just cruising along, I decided that maybe I could learn to do this and I really liked the cruising along part. So I asked Dave, my instructor, if he thought I could do the whole thing. Of, course he said "Yes". Even back then I just couldn't see myself alone in the plane at any time. I just could not get my head around that one visual.
As a result of having trouble imagining flying solo, I drug my feet in every way possible to postpone the seemingly inevitable. I fought it tooth and nail. I put off getting the medical until I had no more excuses. Then lo and behold, just getting the medical slowed down the process. After each lesson, Dave would comment that I should have soloed, when is the medical coming. I just smiled and prayed it took forever.
I finally got the medical approved on Thursday, July 28. Now, I had no more excuses and my stomach did a flip-flop every time I thought about or someone mentioned soloing. Then good luck struck me again. I had a lesson scheduled for Saturday afternoon. But Dave forgot to e-mail me the required written test that must be completed prior to a solo. I had a short reprieve. Very short. He sent it to me the next day.
I spent about 4 hours looking up the answers to that test. I actually learned a great deal about the Musketeer. Now, stomach still flip-flopping, I was ready. Another reprieve, unfortunate weather on Tuesday evening and then Dave had to go out of town on business. There is a God.
Sunday was the day and there seemed to be no getting around it unless the weather was my friend once again. The weather gods turned on me at this point and the skies cleared for the rest of the week and Sunday's forecast looked especially good.
I visualized several scenarios at that point and ran them by Bo to see if he thought they were viable. They included: throwing up in Dave's lap, lashing him to the seat with a strong rope so he couldn't get out of the plane, screaming and crying while throwing myself across him and holding the door shut, and even shutting down the engine and getting out with him. Bo didn't think any of them would work. One can hope, anyway.
Sunday was a really lovely day. The appointed hour was 10:00 AM. Dave called about 9:15. He thought the lesson was at 9:00. So we hurried to the airport and Dave roared up as I was starting pre-flight. He grabbed the books and started endorsing all the proper paperwork. I started sweating.
We got in the plane and headed for McKinney. It was not too hazy, but there was some haze causing the horizon to be fuzzy. There was a horizon, however. I announce to McKinney and start a right downwind for 17. The tower asked me to go north some more to allow for traffic and do a long final. I do it and everything is looking so good. We touch down, catch a gust of wind and are right back up. I actually reacted correctly, goosed to throttle a little, and settled back on the runway. Not a bad landing, especially with the gust. We take off and come around again. There is a LOT of traffic at McKinney, taking off and landing.
On the second pass, I did what was probably my best landing EVER. It was smooth and Dave called it a "greaser". We hardly felt it. We take off again and Dave says "Tell them we need a full stop this time." This is IT!!!! Needless to say the third landing was a little shaky. We pull off and have to wait for ground to give us permission to taxi. I can see Bo standing over by the FBO waiting. We taxi over. Dave gave me lots of last minute instructions and assured me that the tower will give me plenty of space since they know I am a student. He got out and I was on my own. No panic, no unnatural fear, just slight trepidation that Bo will kill me if I break the plane.
Ground tells me to taxi to 17 and hold. I forgot to acknowledge and they had to ask if I heard them. First mistake. Boy, I am off to a great start. It is hot but not boiling, yet. I taxi toward the hold area at 17. There are two planes already there waiting to take off but there is so much landing traffic that they have been waiting for a long time. I stop, probably too far back, but I didn't want to crowd anyone. Then I really wanted to know how much traffic was behind me. There are NO mirrors of any kind in an airplane (although I have asked Bo repeatedly for just one little side mirror). I was waiting, sweating more and more, when the engine starts bobbling. All I need now is to have the engine die and try to restart it hot. I figure I will jam the entire line of planes waiting to take off while I try to hot-start or, worse case scenario, drag the Mouse off the taxiway after I can't get it restarted.
I pulled the mixture out just a little and pushed the throttle in just a little so it would idle at a little higher RPM. Whew, that worked.
Finally, the big plane that was number one took off and I moved up to number 2. Then the Cessna that was number one took off and I WAS UP!
I headed down the runway and took off like a shot. I was climbing way too fast and getting up to pattern altitude at an alarming rate. The airspeed was at 90 right where it should be, but I was climbing about 900 feet per minute, almost double the normal climb! I was already on downwind when I realized that with only half the usual weight in the plane, it naturally would get off the ground much quicker and climb much faster that I was used to doing. By that time, I had time to look around and see what was going on. I wasn't scared, nervous, or worried. It was fantastic. I was able to see all the traffic I needed to see and get set-up for my first landing. There was lots of time to get it all done. As usual, I was a little high on final but felt like I had it under control. I was able to watch the air speed, ball, runway, and descent all at the same time. I seemed to have more time to do that alone than when Dave was with me. The first landing was pretty good, right up until the bounce. I managed the power and got the bounce under control and landed pretty close to center line. One down, two to go!
I took off again and climbed like a homesick angel (to use Bo's expression). As I was just adding the first notch of flaps, the tower asked me to extend the downwind to allow for traffic and they would tell me when to turn base. Well, just before I got to the Oklahoma border (OK I exaggerate just a little bit, maybe it was only 3 miles), the tower told me to turn base. I was on final for about 45 minutes (OK maybe another exaggeration) and made a good landing and take-off. One left.
As I was coming up on the numbers and adding the first flaps this time, the tower gave me some more instructions, but another pilot stepped on the transmission. The tower also asked if I wanted a full stop on this landing. I replied affirmative on the full stop and asked them to "say again" the instructions. I thought I knew what they said but I wanted to be sure I KNEW what they wanted me to do. I followed another plane in and made the second turn off. I just couldn't quite get stopped in time for the first taxiway. I taxied toward the FBO and saw Dave walking toward me, with two thumbs up! I had soloed and no untoward bodily fluids were involved (I did wear navy blue pants just in case).
Dave climbed in the plane and we headed back to Aero Country. I made a really poor landing there. Ah, things to come. All our future touch and goes will be at Aero Country. Then I will solo there as well.
Bo met us at the hangar, Dave cut off the back of my shirt (tradition for first solo), Bo took pictures, and I bounced. The exhilaration took a long time to wear off. I still smile every time I think about it. This will never happen to me again. There will never be another first solo. All the old (and young) flyboys told me that the confidence boost from the first solo is enormous. I had no idea just how much that is true. I just wanted to keep flying and keep flying. I told Bo I really felt bad that I did not appreciate his first solo. I just didn't understand how he felt. Now I do.
