Larry has cleared me for cross-country. After some weather delays (wind-snow-wind) we finally got to go up this morning. We hit the highlights, including both left and right turns around a point. (Of all things, my right hand turns around a point I consider my weak point). Afterward we went back to his home office and started to talk about cross country. We'll be going to two Class C airports. The idea is for me to get the most benefit going to the busiest nearby airports while Larry is with me. I now have a real slide-rule/dial flight computer and a real plotter (ruler with protractor). I'm starting to get the hang of the flight computer after several days. I'm amazed by all the things that can be done with it.

Some of my new toys-- hey, what's that low-altitude en route chart doing in there!

I had to do sort of a checkride to be cleared for cross-country. Larry said that the cross-country phase of flight training would put a whammy on my technical flying skills and he wanted to be sure I had things like turns around a point, the stalls, and the precision take-offs and landings down fairly well before he turned me loose cross-country.

At his office, he'd shown me how to use the plotter and the flight computer. He called that a "Prayer Wheel." He showed me how to make a flight plan, gave me a primer on selecting checkpoints, the whole nine yards. He did the leg to the first Class C airport and sent me off with homework, to do the other two legs.

It was so cool to have a real flight computer that I took it out and used it to compute time and distance a few days later while driving down the highway. Larry pointed out that might not be a good idea; in flight one can deviate off course a few degrees while doing calculations without running off the road. He said he didn't want to read in the paper that one of his students was found in a heap on the side of the road clutching a Prayer Wheel.

A computer (like the one you're in front of now) is a great tool for planning cross country flights, especially if one has Flight Simulator. One day Larry commented to some other pilots during some "hangar talk" that I had an advantage because I could do my flights in flightsim first. But apart from using flightsim, just being able to go online was a great help. For example, there's a ton of information www.airnav.com about individual airports. I would get info from there and have it printed out, making sure to double check the information with valid charts, etc., before sticking the pages in my clipboard.

Unsure about whether the little town on the sectional is more than just a couple crossroads? Check it out with Terraserver at http://terraserver-usa.com. You just have to be careful and realize some of these aerial photos can be somewhat dated. I found that mines and quarries and golf courses make pretty good visual checkpoints, and these could also be viewed with Terraserver. I used Mapquest and my Streets program to supplement highway maps.

It's hard to find a better checkpoint than a golf course set between a major highway and a railroad track.

Once I had my flight plan done i flew the flights in flightsim. The low-level detail of flightsim is amazing. If you read my other articles, you know I was flying a Cessna 150, so these flights were not going to be made at any great altitude. I think the highest I ever flew on any of the cross-country flights was 5500 feet.

Not surprisingly, the airports in flightsim are where they are on the sectional. But most of even the little roads and creeks are about where they are supposed to be. So are the bodies of water and the radio towers. All but the biggest radio towers make lousy checkpoints for real day VFR flying. These are great checkpoints in flightsim, but in reality they are usually too narrow to be seen from any appreciable distance. On the other hand, flightsim doesn't do a very good job of depicting many little towns that can be used as checkpoints in reality. So, in flightsim, I traded off and used a radio tower for a checkpoint if it was near a little town that flightsim didn't depict.

A quarry by a lake is good, too.

We climbed to 4500 feet as we crossed the local VOR and turned to 210°. The block of clouds that had covered the horizon in that direction had completely gone. Later, we determined the visibility to be over 40 nm. Larry was a little disappointed by this. He said it was going to be too easy for me. 'You can see the checkpoints 20 miles away.'

I had to crab slightly to the right to stay on course. Once the power was set and the plane was trimmed it was stable and I could basically fly the plane with my feet. I had a lapful. There was my clipboard with the flight plan, the sectional, folded to our present area, and the E6B computer. He had me calculate the time to the checkpoints and write in the ETA (in minutes after the hour) in a little box for that on the plan. After a couple of these we were able to determine our groundspeed. If we were a little early, he'd have me calculate the next checkpoint with a slightly faster groundspeed until our actual time agreed with the estimated.

Larry had told me that the controllers at the second airport were a little full of themselves, probably because they were newer. It had only recently achieved Class C status. We were ID'ed a little ways out to another plane as possible traffic. Then when we got closer and contacted approach, the controller asked us if we had the transponder on (it was). Leroy said the guy knew we had our transponder on because of the prior traffic call. This controller immediately instructed us to contact the control tower even though we were still 16 nm out. The first thing that controller did was ask us if we'd already contacted approach. "That's an affirmative." We were handed off to a female controller who was a little busy but much more pleasant. We got a straight-in clearance. A C-130 was taking off, which we were able to see in the distance, a student doing touch and goes was re-routed to another runway, and another GA plane was coming in just a little before us. Larry had me land quite a bit down the runway so we wouldn't have to taxi a long way.

When we were back and all done Larry asked for my certificate and endorsed me for solo cross country. I can't recall now if it was there or back at one of the stops where he said something about my earning his trust. I guess he trusts me enough to let me go up and away on my own. We talked a little more and then he had to get going. Frankly, I didn't want to leave. I could have flown another four hours I think. I stuck around a few minutes and bird-dogged the runway for Darryl, the FBO, who was in the back trying to get the runway lights to come on. "No, they're still not working," I'd call back to him. He gave up and went over to his trailer to call FSS to report the requisite NOTAM. So there I was, alone in the office. I gathered up my stuff and headed for home.

We actually made three stops that day. A realtor in a town between that second airport and our home base needed Larry to take him up for some aerial pictures of some ranch that was for sale. It was a long day; we covered about 360 nm in a Cessna 150. It should also be noted that in flightsim there are no Darryls trying to get runway lights to work. I was still pumped after we were on the ground for good, but on the drive home fatigue began to set in. I slept like a baby that night.

The solo cross country would be short relative to the dual we'd completed and I'd be over familiar terrain. In fact, my first stop would be at the airport of my home town just 30 or so miles from Larry's home base. But the wind was a bear that day. Larry even went up with me for a quick run around the pattern to make sure I could handle the crosswind. Then he turned me loose on the world (or at least a small part of it).

What, me worry? You bet.

My approach into my hometown airport was a total mess. I haven't yet developed a keen eye for spotting airports from a distance. I was nearly on top of it and was still above pattern altitude. This airport also has a little-used, very narrow and short runway that is not kept up too well. Larry had told me he thought it was still in use and to ask UNICOM if it were available. My first lesson of the day was to make sure the radio volume is turned up. I never heard any reply to my question, so I got onto downwind for runway 2, but mistakenly announced I was on downwind for runway 20. I was too high and too fast coming into final and decided to go around. While back in the pattern, I turned up the volume to hear UNICOM suggest the small runway, 31. So I left the pattern and re-entered on a downwind for 31. I don't know the width of this runway, but I bet in my younger days with a good run-up I could have jumped across it. I made a respectable landing and taxied in. After chatting with the FBO a bit, I was on my way with a nice short-field take-off, lifting off before this little runway crossed the main one.

My house is south of town, which put it close to the course for the next leg. Unfortunately, I didn't figure out I'd flown right over it until I was about a quarter mile past it. I decided to stay under the clouds. I didn't want to be on top if they started to close up. There was some crosswind at the destination, but it wasn't so bad. The real problem was figuring out how to taxi to the FBO. There are no taxiways on this airport except for real close to the office. After looking at my notes for the airport, I announced I would back-taxi on runway 10. After chatting with the guys in there, having one sign my logbook, and taking a few pictures, it was time to go.

Up ahead, the sky was darkening. It was getting later in the afternoon, and I couldn't tell if the clouds ahead only appeared scattered or broken, or if they were really a solid mass. To my left I could see a nearby airport was clear in case I needed to head there. It also seemed to be clear back east towards my hometown airport. The puffy clouds were becoming more frequent, and they were only slightly above now, so I dropped down away from them.

These clouds were also a concern.

As it turns out, they were only scattered. I could see the home base when I was still 20-25 nm out. I would be there well within my estimated time. After I announced position, someone radioed back that runway 36 was still in use, and that there was still a decent crosswind. As I entered downwind, another plane was just taking off. It turned out the other person who'd radioed me, though, was a pilot on the ground I'd met before leaving, with a hand-held radio.

I came in well, good speed and slope, left wing down, right rudder, good flare, and touched down softly. 'Cessna 4-Sierra-Juliet, EXCELLENT landing.' Yee-haw! It never hurts to have an appreciative audience when things go well. It turned out that I had an attentive audience earlier when things weren't going so well. Mark, the pilot with the radio, said that he and Larry had listened on the hand-held to my little adventure over my hometown airport. Mark told me I'd done fine; I'd run up against some problems but I'd stuck with it, kept a clear head, and gotten the job done."

The following day I took the written test. I had to drive an hour to take it at a nearby regional airport. Right before I arrived there was a special news bulletin on the radio about the Space Shuttle braking up over Texas. When I asked the people at the counter if they'd heard the news, they directed me to the pilot's lounge where a TV was tuned to CNN. I watched for a while in stunned silence, and then forced myself to leave and to try to block it from my mind for a couple hours if I could. I scored an 88 and passed the test, then returned home still stunned by tragedy.

Larry tightened the screws a little with the next cross-country assignment. The first leg would be to a smaller airport with a VOR nearby, but on the second leg I would have to transition through Class D airspace to get to yet another Class D airport just beyond. It would be my first solo into ATC controlled airspace.

"Columbia Radio, Cessna . . . Sierra Juliet, listening on 1-2-2 point 4." And listening, and listening. Nothing. I was trying to hail Flight Service to open my flight plan to the first airport. I couldn't hear any traffic when I switched to 122.8. Nor was any to be heard on 122.9, another common traffic advisory frequency. Do I turn around? Squawk 7600 for radio failure? I decided not to turn around, but maybe land at an airport not too far ahead I was using as a checkpoint. I checked to make sure the radio was set to speaker instead of headphone, and that the mike was plugged in. I tried hailing another FSS. Still nothing. Finally I heard traffic, and tried transmitting again. Again, nothing. I reminded myself to fly the plane first, and to keep aware of where I was and to look for traffic. OK, I thought, radio failures are built into 'the system.' But I was beginning to imagine Flight Service calling Larry to tell him they'd had no contact with me.

I flicked the headphone/speaker switch back and forth. I reached under the dash and wiggled the mike jack and pressed it upward forcefully. And then there was that distinctive 'click' a jack makes when fully inserted. Someone who had used headphones in the plane had tried to replace the mike jack, close but no cigar. I mentally kicked myself. This has happened to me before. I once was in the air before realizing the speakers were off and the jack wasn't in, so I'd made this the first thing I checked when I first stuck my head into the cockpit on pre-flight. The jack had felt secure then, but obviously hadn't been.

I opened my flight plan, breathed a sigh of relief, and began to enjoy the flight and the beautiful day. It was such a beautiful day that soon after departing the first airport, the buildings of the bigger town to the north that was home to the two Class D's were in view upon reaching 3000 feet. The checkpoints zoomed under me and it was time to call the first of the "twin towers."

"I was cleared at or above 3000 feet. I could tell by watching and listening that it was busy there today. The controller had his hands full. I saw a Cheyenne arc around the airport, and some large cargo hauler or airliner making final. I descended to 3000 feet because I knew I wouldn't have much time to get down to pattern altitude for my destination once I cleared the airspace directly before me. Though I hadn't been requested to, I reported crossing the runway 13/31 centerline, a common practice through there, just to remind the controller I was still there. I was right over the end of runway 13. Just as I crossed, an Air National Guard KC-135 took off right under me! It was as gray as sharkskin, ambling into the air to my left and behind me as I passed safely above. I will never forgive myself for not thinking to grab my camera at that second!

As Larry had warned, it soon was apparent I'd been forgotten, so I requested and received permission for a frequency change. I quickly dialed the next tower, as I was probably already in their airspace. I was cleared to land and given a choice of right or left patterns for runway 18, and further instructed to report midfield on downwind. By then the airport was somewhat to my left so I advised I'd make a lefty approach, turned in, began a quick descent to 1600 feet and reported as instructed. I saw that 18 had a considerable amount of displaced approach and cut the power at the end of downwind accordingly, coming around to make a decent landing."

One of the twin towers.

Right about here there ought to be a photo of the topside of a KC-135. That camera was just lying there in the right seat ready to shoot. Maybe I'll think of it next time!

Upon my return Larry and I discussed the next cross country trip. This would be the one with the required leg of over 100 nm. He gave choices in each compass direction. The choice to the north would entail circumventing the Class B airspace around a major airport. As some of you know, a solo student pilot may not enter Class B airspace without prior dual instruction therein and an endorsement, which I did not have. The prospect of going around Class B airspace was intriguing, but I had another idea.

One of my favorite airports in flightsim lie within the penumbra of that Class B airspace, its Class D crimping into the southeast edge of the Class B circle. It was the downtown GA airport servicing the same city as the Class B's "International." I'd seen it before from downtown buildings and had driven by it. And I'd flown in and out of it a zillion times in flightsim--it was one of my virtual home bases. Needless to say, I really wanted to really fly in there.

Larry and I talked about how I might get in there. The idea was that I'd go first to the airport way up north on the far side of the Class B, the 100 nm leg, and then come back around south and east, staying under the outer ring of the Class B, and then pivoting back southwest to the Class D of the downtown airport. Larry said this would be unusual, but he thought I could do it. He told me to plan it and submit it to him. If he approved it, I could go.

Here's another example of how a computer came in handy. I worked out the plan with the sectional and then opened flightsim and in turn FSNav. I lined out the plan in FSNav, took a screen shot, opened that in Paint and added some more information, and then emailed that to Larry along with an explanation. He replied with an approval, and I was going to an airport I'd longed dreamed of flying into.

Not the FSNav shot I sent Larry, but it gives the general idea.

The lady who gave me my so-called weather briefing was a bitch. I'd asked for an abbreviated briefing. She asked me what I wanted. I said information on precip, clouds, and wind. She said tersely, and I quote, "There isn't any." Leroy explained some weather specialists get upset when you ask for an abbreviated briefing, because they know you've gotten the weather from DUATS, and they're afraid automation may put them out of a job. I suppose being a bitch doesn't help one's job security either, though.

There were no clouds or precip, but there was wind. There was a stiff northerly breeze and it was cold, damned cold. The engine barely started on the first crank. I took off and climbed quickly. I leveled off at 3500 feet even though I'd planned for 5500, because the air was clean. I saw a band of haze at what looked to be 4000-5000 and thought I'd stay under that. But then I recalled what Larry had said the day before about there being a temperature inversion and decided to climb on up. There was an inversion. The heating in this 150 is not the best in the world. It barely keeps up at 20°. At 5500 I could still see, could see even farther. A glance at the gauge showed the outside temp in the 40's, and it was comfortable inside the plane now."

I reached the northern airport just fine. It was even colder up there. I stepped out of the airplane with my camera and, hands nearly shaking, tried to take some pictures of a line of C-130's in the Air Guard section of the airport. Nothing happened when I clicked the button. I went inside and bought some batteries. It still wouldn't work. I hit the "mode" button. Still nothing. Then I hit the button under the mode button, and listened in horror to the whir of the thing auto-rewinding half a roll of film. So, right about here there ought to be some pictures of a row of C-130's and a close-up aerial of some really tall (to me) buildings.

"Larry had advised not to file a plan, but instead call the Class B approach control and advise them of my intentions, essentially to get flight following. I had to pick a pause in the action to call in. I was cleared through the Class B Airspace (which, being a student, I had no intention of entering) and told to squawk 0435. This guy was a real pro, and it was a real treat to listen to him juggling both airliners and GA planes buzzing around the busy airspace. He was quick, but willing to give info as requested. There seems to be a blur at the line between the formalistic side of radio talk and normal conversation. I'm starting to get the hang of that, too.

At my pivot-point I turned southeast to southwest and began descending to 2500. The downtown area of the city lies on the south bank of a river. The airport is just across the river. As I drew nearer, the approach controller terminated radar service and had me contact my destination's tower. I was cleared for a right-hand pattern to runway 1. The tower soon came back on and told me to make that a wide pattern. There was some traffic she was spacing. "Four-Sierra-Juliet, I'll make it a wide one." Not exactly out of the flight manual, but enough to let her know I'd gotten it.

The airport and buildings are fairly well depicted in flightsim. A right-hand pattern to runway 1 points you right at the heart of the downtown district. A wide right-hand pattern takes you clear around it. I got back on and asked the controller if she intended for me to go east and south of downtown. She wouldn't be able to see me too well back there, so I figured I better ask. She did. Oh, how I wanted a working camera there and then. This city doesn't have what I would call skyscrapers, but there's a stand of buildings in the 30-50 story range. As I circled around "behind" them, it seemed that I could reach out and touch one. As I turned to my extended base, I saw another plane on short final, and was cleared to land after that one. I glided over the river and touched down. There was a jet behind me and the controller had me step on it to get up to the taxiway and off the runway."

From the 28th floor looking north towards downtown. Imagine a Cessna 150 flying a wide base leg from your right to left above and between here and those buildings. The airport is on the other side of the buildings on the left side of the picture.

Landing at this airport was simply a dream come true. I couldn't believe my fantastic luck at being cleared around behind the big downtown buildings. I was elated. It was one of those moments one wants frozen in time. This was on a Sunday, so these buildings were all but empty. I tried to imagine flying such a pattern during a weekday, when there would have been an audience of sorts, and remembered myself gazing out of the windows of one those buildings wishing to someday fly into that downtown airport.

Back home Larry listened patiently to the recounting of the day's flying. Eventually, as always, he shifted the focus to what lay ahead, what still needed to be done. We discussed the night flying requirements. I still needed to complete my simulated instrument flying under the hood. And then we would begin the end of the training, preparing for the checkride itself. These were things we needed to be talking about, but the shift in focus was short lived, for after we bid adieu and I was driving down the highway, in my mind I was still up in the air over the city, and still wondering what I'd done to that darned camera.

Joe Zuzul
jzzl@earthlink.net