Learning to fly, one mistake at a time
Flying is simple isn't it? Take off. Land. Repeat. And obviously try not to get the two confused.
I started learning to fly in my early 50s and have never quite stopped being a student. This is my attempt at explaining why I fly. To myself, to Wifey, and hopefully to you.
I hope you find my antics honest, humorous and possibly even inspiring? That last one is a bit of a stretch, I know. But I love flying, and I love seeing others understand why I fly. If that encourages one person into the air, then I've succeeded.
My goal is simple: keep the number of landings equal to the number of takeoffs. And of course, try not to crash. I'm not an instructor - listen to them not some internet influencer (I was once called an 'up and coming YouTuber - Thanks Flyer Magazine'!!), All you will find here is just me and my experiences. Hopefully you can learn from them before I run out of luck, skill or cash.
Last week I didn't fly because it was simply too hot. Thirty-three degrees the day before, density altitude doing unhelpful things, the kind of bumpy air Caz politely declines. So the plane sat in the sun and I stayed on the ground. And then I decided to I spent the evening in a portacabin with no air conditioning, and have a chat with the CAA.
Look, mum, no instructor! Yes it's true. I flew without an instructor and, more importantly to me anyway, I've managed to create another video from another flight in a month. God, is my channel coming back to life? Could I be doing more flying? Yes.
There's a man carved into a Dorset hillside who has been showing off for about a thousand years. The Cerne Abbas Giant. Fifty-five metres of chalk, a club in one hand, and absolutely nothing in the way of clothing. You can probably picture him. Most people can.
There are some people you carry with you long after you've stopped sitting in their classroom. Léon Ellison was one of mine.
Léon was one of my electronics tutors at Royal Holloway. A genius and a gentleman, in that order and both completely. The kind of teacher who made hard things feel reachable, and who treated a slightly-lost undergraduate like the engineer he hoped you'd one day become. I owe him more than I ever told him.
It's true. I hadn't flown in months. November last year was the last time I was in the air. There was an abortive attempt to go night flying in December but circumstances canned that idea. So weather, work, more work, and then the annual appearing just as the weather improved all combined to keep me from flying. Well, that is my excuse, but the real answer is I also got a little lazy, finding excuses to not get my flight bag out and plan a flight. It was easier to start up Netflix than start up SkyDemon. The aerodrome was still there. KK was still there. I just kept finding reasons not to be there.
The plan was simple getting kicked out of the house by Caz and go for a solo bimble - first to remind myself which way up KK goes, then meet Jack later for a proper flight. I haven't seen Jack since November, and he's been off doing his ATPLs/CPLs whatknots because apparently more exams is what every pilot needs. Lots of catching up to do, most of it in the air. Caz had the lurgy so no peanuts on this flight.
A neighbourhood in Seattle called Laurelhurst has successfully restricted helicopter landings at the local hospital. Seattle Children's Hospital, to be specific. The complaint? The helicopters are too noisy.
