On Soloing

I had taken 7 hours of pilot training, not much by anyone's standards. I actually had a few light bouts of nausea during this time, and almost questioned my ability to become a pilot. I perservered as most people do for something that they want. Learning to takeoff was easy, flying enroute was pretty straightforward, although I remember that the plane seemed like a leaf in the wind at times. The sensation of turning the plane with gentle left airleron and left rudder, or vice versa, was beyond words. Pulling back on the yoke resulted in an increase in altitude and a decrease in airspeed. All of the sensations were phenomenal and at times overwhelming. When it came to landing, that took all of my hand/eye/brain coordination. Landing involves flying an airplane in relatively slow flight. All of the controls become mushy and the pilot must be alert not to stall (aerodynamically) the airplane. This is accomplished by increasing the angle of attack too much. Anyway, after 7 hours of instruction, I didn't think that I had actually landed the aircraft myself. I was so focused that I thought my instructor was assisting me during each landing. I remember getting my knuckles whacked by a clip board because I had a "death grip" on the yoke. My instructor kept telling me to have light fingertip control during landing which would result in nice light changes to the attitude of the plane during the final landing approach. This was easier said than done, to a new student pilot.

So on this sunny day in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, Perley Carmichael, my instructor indicated that I should taxi the airplane back to the terminal. We had only flown for about half the time of a typical lesson, so I was disappointed. I thought it was because I was flying poorly. As I shut the engine down and started to get out, Perley said, "Only one of us is leaving this airplane, and the other will make 3 takeoffs and landings and return here afterwards". Those were his exact words. I could not believe it.

I taxied out to the runway, not really sure I was fully prepared. At least one of us thought so. The airport was uncontrolled, so I made my radio call on Unicom and took off. Taking off is easy. Then I turned downwind and realized I didn't think that I had ever made a landing myself, without assistance. Oh my God!!! So I was about to get a baptism of fire, as another airplane went in front of me, and I had to extend my downwind for proper spacing. Which only gave me more time to be anxious about my landing. Then I lined up and realized I had a crosswind. Ouch, for my first solo landing. But that gave me more focus and I landed perfectly with a crab on short final, while in the flare, I kicked opposite rudder, while holding in the airleron and landing on the upwind wheel and then bringing down the other gear.

So I taxied to the other runway which had more favorable winds (ie, less crosswind) and did my second takeoff and landing. This runway, although certainly long enough, was shorter than my first runway. So, I tried to do a short field landing, which for the most part, means paying real close attention to airspeeds, and touching down right at the beginning of the runway. I did another good landing.

I was supposed to do 3, but was pretty proud of myself, and just called it a day, having batted 2 for 2. There is simply no better feeling than soloing an airplane for the first time. I think it was actually more exhilerating than actually getting my Pilot Certificate. I can still see the actual solo in my mind in great details, now almost 30 years later.