At the end of my last lesson with Gene, we talked about what’s next and decided it was time to plan and fly a dual cross country (defined as at least one leg of 50nm or more and often abbreviated “XC”). We’re going to Virginia. More specifically, to Blue Ridge (MTV) about 7 miles SW of Martinsville, VA, then to Person County (TDF) just south of Roxboro, NC, then back to Sanford. Both airports are similar to Sanford: uncontrolled, with a single paved runway between 5,000 and 6,000 feet. Before next Tuesday, I have to plan as much as I can using what I learned in ground school. Some things can’t be done until the last minute because they’re based on the weather.
In the mean time, I wanted to get in a couple more solo flights to practice my landings and maneuvers. I had to cancel another flight (Monday) due to high crosswinds. Another student had also canceled seven flights in the past couple weeks due to wind. “Welcome to January” as one instructor put it.
Today, however, the wind was looking better. The forecast was slightly higher than the club rules for student solo, but the reported winds were below maximums and I was looking forward to a little practice with wind. Other than the wind, the weather was perfect; it was dry, cold, and clear… a perfect combination for good airplane performance.
When I got to the airport, I checked the wind one last time and it said “wind calm”, so I was ready to go. The plane needed fuel, so I called for fuel. I finished preflight while waiting for fuel. I had to add a quart of oil… first time I’ve had to do that, but it’s no different than for any other engine I’ve seen. The fuel guys at Sanford provided their usual leisurely service; despite having told me “we’ll be right there”, it was at least 20 minutes before they showed up. My hands were well frozen by that time, so I was quick to check the fuel and get the engine started. It had a little trouble starting, but nothing an extra half shot of primer didn’t cure. A short taxi to runway 3, pre-takeoff checks passed, and I was off.
I had planned to go out into the practice area to work on turns around a point, possibly a few landings at Siler City, or just back to Sanford for some short/soft field landing practice. Those plans changed as soon as my plane became airborne. Despite what the AWOS and the slightly moving windsock said, the wind was not calm! It may not have been blowing in any particular direction, but I was getting tossed around in a very unpleasant manner. I decided to stay in the pattern and do a local landing or two to “warm up” and see just how bad it was.
Every bit of the first round was a struggle. It wasn’t violent, but it required a lot of control adjustments to maintain course. On turning base, I realized I hadn’t lost much altitude… then I realized I’d forgotten my 10° flaps. No problem, I added 20° and moved on. The turn to final and the approach was a little on the high side, but not so bad. As I rounded out, I realized it was going to be a challenge to park this thing. Little bursts of turbulence were unpredictable, but they were little, so I managed to land reasonably well, though I was halfway down the runway by the time it was over as I kept a little power to help soften the touchdown and lessen the effects of the “nonexistent” wind.
I felt comfortable enough, so I made it a touch and go and climbed out again. This time was no different; still getting tossed around and it was hard to maintain altitude. My approach was much the same, but my landing was even more challenging. It was hard getting the plane to stay still, but I still felt like I was doing well enough to not go around. I was getting a little less comfortable with the rough air, but not enough to stop. I decided to go for one more lap.
On my third round, abeam the numbers, I was higher than I should’ve been when I pulled power to start my decent. I added 10° flaps and then looked at my airspeed. Woa! I was going 90 knots! 15 more than usual and 5 more than the maximum flaps extended speed. That wasn’t good. I should’ve checked that before extending flaps. Well… they didn’t break off, so I guess I’m ok. I extended downwind a little to compensate for my altitude, but after turning base I realized I was way too high. The air was brutal. I turned final and entered an idle-power full deflection forward slip to lose as much altitude as possible. I was dropping pretty fast, but not fast enough. At about 100 feet AGL and about to cross the threshold, I decided to go around. That went fine, but I thought to myself as I climbed out, “I’ve got to get this thing on the ground and call it a day.” It was the first time since I started flying that I’ve had even a hint of fear. I wasn’t scared, but it was more than just the feeling you get on the first drop in a roller coaster; very uncomfortable.
On my fourth final approach, I had a split second thought of “what if I stalled right here… I’d hit the ground pretty hard… I bet that would hurt… or not. Enough of that. Fly!” It didn’t help that I had been reading NTSB accident reports the day before, but I like to learn what not to do. One thing not to do is get too slow on final and stall. It can happen when you don’t pay attention, but I was most definitely paying attention. I was still too high, so I went idle power and forward slip again. This time I was right on target. Everything looked good…until I caught a small burst of that “calm wind”. I was pushed to the right, well off the center line, but still well on the runway. I touched down immediately after that, but I wasn’t quite heading straight down the runway. The slight lateral movement to the left startled me a little, but the plane was under control and I stopped just past taxiway E, which meant it was actually a pretty short landing. I taxied back and exited on E. As I taxied back to the ramp, I was glad for the experience, but also glad it was over.
I knew there were some pilot reports of turbulent air aloft, but it’s never been like that at the surface. Next time I will take the AWOS wind report with a large grain of salt and consider the surrounding conditions a little more seriously. It was an excellent learning experience… for understanding a piece of the weather puzzle and for handling the plane in rough air. I can’t always fly in perfect weather, and it wasn’t anything an experienced pilot would be concerned about, but as a low-time student pilot, I hit my comfort limit.
I managed to get in 3 landings and a go-around in 0.5 hours, bringing me to 43.2 hours.