Hundred Dollar Beef Dip?

I went for my first $100 hamburger the other day, although, in this case, I chose to have a beef dip, but it was basically the same thing. I'm not even sure if that's a common expression or not, I just heard it somewhere and am going to go with it. The fact that I could easily be calling it the wrong thing, or anything at all, is more proof of my newbie status. But you know what? In a field where hours and experience are desired, I'm going to embrace my newcomer status because it seems to work for me.

Now, back to my initial point. . .

I decided to fly my friend to a nearby airport/city to meet with her mom for lunch. I didn't really want to tell her (because, as a pilot, I wanted to instill as much confidence in my abilities as I possibly could, and she's quite young therefore I didn't want to scare her), but I was freaking out. I wasn't sure if I remembered the procedures, I didn't know where to park, and when I phoned the airport they didn't know what to tell me. It was a much larger airport (but, fortunately, still rather uncontrolled) than I'm used to with Westjet and AirCanada coming in frequently and I was sure I was going to get in someone's way and get in trouble. However, I'd committed to this lunch date and wasn't about to back out on it.

The first thing to go wrong was the GPS didn't work. Now, I had planned the trip out ahead of time on my map, but we all know how much easier it is to use a GPS, and I really wanted to be precise with my ETA so as not to make myself look like an idiot. Thankfully, being a teenager, my passenger was fluent with technology (she taught me to text, use an iPod. . . everything we grown ups suck at) and she played with the GPS and finally got CYQU in as my destination point. And, all this while pointing out major landmarks along the way.

This was about the time when my nerves started to set in. The airport I'm used to has one runway and your choice of 24 or 06. This airport added in an extra runway so I now had four to choose from, that's definitely a little more work when calculating headwinds and tailwinds. Fortunately, the tower wanted to keep me out of the way of the major airlines, and told me to use a "back" runway, the one that didn't pass directly in front of the main viewing area of the airport so if I botched my landing I wouldn't have 300 waiting passengers laughing at me. Unfortunately for my already stressed self, he also said those magic words: "Caution, wake turbulence." Those words don't come up much at my home airport, and if they do, it's easy enough to avoid them as the largest plane that comes in is still a DC-7 (I hope I got that right, if I didn't, I'll find out when I look it up on Wikipedia). In this case, the jet that flew by was some form of 700 line (see, I am truly new to this, but that's ok, I'm learning) and I was coming in on final already so couldn't take my time in downwind or anything. Also, it took off perpendicular to my path, I didn't follow it in, so now I was trying to picture in my head the line of wake turbulence from my training manual and figure out how exactly to adjust my landing, and with the whole settling down and out thing going on, I was pretty much right in it's path. Not to mention I was still flying with a seventeen-year-old with a very promising life ahead of her that I was completely responsible for. Thank goodness the Fargo is very slow, by the time we actually got to the touchdown point, that wake turbulence was long gone.

Now that I was out of the wake turbulence danger, I could fully stress about the next part, landing and taxiing to a parking spot without getting in the way of the "big" planes or breaking any rules. I called in that I was down to the tower and asked for directions to parking then crossed my fingers that it would be easy. He replied, "you can park under the lights on the north side of the runway."

Have I mentioned I really suck with directions? Without looking at my map, I had no idea which side was north. I know, how terrible is that? A pilot who can't find north. I could have figured it out easily enough, but I was nervous and didn't want to hold up traffic by taking 5 minutes to reply to the radio call. So, trying to make it seem like I knew what I was doing, I asked if it would be easier to go straight ahead or backtrack. Once he had me heading in the right direction, I figured it out.

That guy in the control tower took care of me all the way in. He gave me clearances when he noticed I was slowing down, he made sure I was in the right spot, and he didn't seem put out at all by my questions. Furthermore, my worry over irritating the airlines was unfounded as well; they looked out for me and were quite willing to work around me and the Fargo. Now, I'm not saying I'm going to rush into a busy, controlled airport any time soon, but I'm definitely not going to let a (slightly) bigger airport scare me anymore when there's people like that to help out. And there's no cooler feeling than walking past all the passengers waiting to go through security and get onto a plane, to pay to park your very own.

That was one of the best beef dips I've ever had.

Won't Do That Again

I did something today that made me feel like a complete idiot. I completely terrified my brother when I took him up for his first flight with me. My first indication that it wasn't exactly a good idea should have come when the words, "do you want to see what scared so-and-so?" came out of my mouth. Now, so-and-so happened to be my five-year-old daughter who is scared of almost everything, so I figured it wasn't really a big deal. From the look on my brother's face, it was. Instantly, I felt like a complete loser.


My brother has been holding off flying with me for a long time (or what feels like a long time). I assumed it was just to ensure my ability was at a level in which he felt comfortable, but I did not realize it was because he was scared of smaller planes. I should have known though, because most people seem to be scared of single-engine airplanes, especially with new pilots such as myself. It was my plan to make it a really nice flight for him so he would enjoy it and realize it wasn't so bad, perhaps come up with me again. Then I go and behave like a complete ass.

What I did was to put the plane into ~o G's by nosing down quickly from a climb. Something I've done lots with other pilots and with my instructor. Then, I've done far more intense maneovers in my aerobatic training in Penticton. I think that's why I've become desensitized to the whole thing. Doing something in an airplane as the pilot and knowing what to expect is entirely different than throwing your passenger for a loop with some weird maneover they did not see coming. My brother just yelled and said never to do that again. So much for the fun fearless pilot I wanted to show him I could be.

On my way home I explained all this to my husband, who has flown often enough with me, and with my partner in the Fargo. This is actually where this all came about. My pilot friend would do that to my husband all the time. My husband, now used to it, likes feeling the butterflies in his stomach. I was just trying to make sure I could measure up to my pilot friend, be just as fun, so to say. Well, when I told my husband about it he ensured me that it completely and absolutely terrified him the first time he did it. I was surprised.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "it feels like you're going to fall right out of the sky."

Oops. Not the feeling your new passengers would want, especially when you're trying to convince them that flying is perfectly safe.

So, from now on, I'm going to quit trying to be super fun pilot and just be super safe, reassuring pilot. I'm learning that most people are scared and they need to know that being up in the sky in a tiny little plane (remember, this is the Fargo we're talking about here) is not risking their lives unnecessarily. And I have to remind myself how I felt the first few times I went up in a little plane. And how I felt before I learned that dives and spins and stalls actually aren't that scary. In a way I'm happy to be getting more comfortable with the sensations of the plane, I don't feel like such a newbie. On the other hand, I'm going to have to remind myself always how the person next to me is feeling, and make them feel better, not worse.

Now, to convince my brother to fly with me again...

Dashboard Hula

So. . . the person with whom I share the Fargo bought himself a new plane. A PA-12. Lucky him. Not that that matters for the sake of this blog, I just figured I'd throw that in there (that's my jealousy coming out, he gets a cool bush plane and I'm still stuck with the Fargo). Because he's got his own plane now, certain things have disappeared from the Fargo. His headsets, for one. His GPS, for another (which I thought was going to screw me up completely, but it's definitely improved my navigational skills while I wait for my new GPS to come from ebay, an entirely different story). But, headsets and a GPS can be bought. What had the biggest effect, or the most noticeable effect, was the fact that he removed his dancing dashboard hula girl. There is now a large, gaping empty spot where she used to bounce and sway with the turns and the turbulence.

The reason there is still an empty spot (but not for long, which I will get into later) is because I haven't quite figured out why she was there in the first place, even though I am affected by her absence. Why did he need his dancing tiki girl in the first place? It wasn't like he'd been to Hawaii and brought her back from the tropics to remind himself of the warmth and lushness of the place. It was a gift when he'd bought his first plane. So, I'd like to know, why it was a gift in the first place, because I know he's not the only one with a dancing girl in a grass skirt and flowered lay upon their dashboard, aviation or not.

When did this tradition come about and for what reason? To my disappointment, I could not find my answer on the internet, a rare occurence indeed. I knew that the penguins in Madagascar 2 had a tiki girl on the dashboard of their plane, and that is a movie where the animators had to first decide she needed to be there and then go to the effort to draw her in. My research also brought up a few other movies that did have a dashboard tiki on their planes, the names just aren't coming to mind right now, although I think one had Danny Glover in it, but I can't be certain.

Apparently their rise in popularity came about in the 50's, so I'm not sure if this was a tradition from the WWII fighter pilots (a group full of traditions and superstitions in regards to planes and flying) or simply from some tourist that went to Hawaii in 1950 and brought one back to show his friends, who then absolutely had to have one, and then things snowballed from there. One thing I do know, is that the dancing hula is not restricted only to airplanes, for when I went to a send off barbeque for two men about to embark on a motorcycle trip around the world, each of them had the exact same hula girl that used to dance in the Fargo right in the front of their packs so they could keep her in sight at all times. The smart thing to have done would have been to ask them why, but they were so busy saying goodbye to all their loved ones I chose to hang in the back and leave them alone. But I do intend on asking them upon their return, once they've finished all the talk of their experiences.

Maybe I'm making a bigger deal of this than it should be. I just don't like to have things or buy into traditions that I'm not completely sure of the reason why (although, I put a Christmas tree up every year and know of no other reason for this than simply to have some place under which to put the presents). Since I was replacing all the things now missing from the Fargo, I was at a loss if I should replace the missing dancer. I'd basically decided not to, since I couldn't find a reason for it in the first place, until my friend showed up at my door with a package. In it, was a little tiki dancer with sticky foam upon which to place her in the Fargo. But not only that, she also came accompanied by none other than bobble head Jesus. I guess my friend thought I might need a little more of a good luck charm than a girl in a grass skirt. So, not completely knowing why, I'll have little tiki and Jesus bobbing around for my flights. If anything, they'll be someone to talk to on a long cross country, and good indicators of the quality of my landings. If they're dancing up a storm on the runway, I know I've come down a little too hard.

Fargo vs Holiday Trailer

I went camping last weekend, in a tent. Apparently that's the way it used to be done, but around here, people think you're crazy if you're not in a holiday trailer, especially with kids. And I have to say, tenting it was not ideal with a two-year-old and a five-year-old, especially when there is a fire ban and more mosquitos than you could ever imagine. This was my first camping trip in about five years, mostly because I swore I hated camping, but I actually enjoyed it. We went with my sister-in-law and their holiday trailer and I discovered how nice camping can really be in a holiday trailer. I left the weekend thinking it would be really awesome if we could get a holiday trailer of our own but then I realized why we are one of the only people in our neighborhood without one. . . the Fargo.

I don't have a holiday trailer because I have a plane. And I have to admit, as much as I thoroughly enjoyed camping with the family, it was nothing compared to flying. There's nothing like being up in the air, looking down at the ground, knowing you're doing something that relatively few people can do. How many people can actually wake up and say, I think I'll go flying today. Or look up at the sky and think, wow, it's a good day for a flight, I think I'll go. And as much as I hate the Fargo (and I don't really hate her, she just needs some more horsepower), she allows me to do that. I think I'd jump in a little red wagon with wings if it could get me airborne.

So, my sister-in-law can keep her holiday trailer, and hopefully she'll allow us to come and mooch off of it every once in a while, because I'm not about to give up my plane in place of convenience when camping. If it meant I'd have to sell everything just to keep my plane, I think I would. I'd walk to work in forty below if it meant I could fly when the weather warmed up, because nothing beats the feeling of soaring over the rest of the world. Besides, now that my mosquito bites have gone down, tenting it wasn't all that bad.

Loops over Okanagan Lake

Since the Fargo is up for sale, I need to decide which plane I would like to purchase when the time comes to get a new one. I love the look of the taildraggers, and they're just so much cooler than a nosewheel. But I needed to know if I could fly one, so I decided to take some taildragger training in Penticton this summer.

Lucky for me, the instructor who does the tailwheel training is also the aerobatics instructor. And, it turns out, he has a rather rubber arm when it comes to convincing him to add loops and spins and hammerheads, not to mention many other manoevers of which I've now forgotten the names, into the lessons.

I didn't really think I would be in a position to learn much in the way of aerobatics since I didn't even have my actual licence on hand, just my student licence with a signature on the back indicating I did pass and can now fly on my own. But after a while, doing circuits in a tailwheel when you keep bouncing down the runway gets a little bit much to take. So, we went up and did some upper airwork which resulted in my flying upside down.

There's nothing to describe aerobatics when you're actually in the plane and not just a spectator. It is the coolest, most awesome thing you will ever do in your life. No rollercoaster or amusement ride could ever compare. For instance, while doing a loop, you start off looking ahead and see nothing but blue sky. Then, you look to the side and watch the mountain beside you flip on its head to finally look down at the glistening, shining blue lake below. It's amazing. And did you know that when you fly upside down the engine quits? Yes, the engine quits so you hear nothing but what wind noise you can through the headset. It's an absolutely lifechanging experience. And then, when you learn how to do it on your own and can actually tell people you've done loops and flown upside down, well, if people thought being a pilot was cool then this is just pure awesomeness! Not to mention, when you get out of the plane and realize you've just done something most people could only dream about, you're left with the kind of feeling that never goes away. If all of my training led only to the few loops and manoevers I was able to cram into my few taildragger lessons, I have to say it was worth every minute of it!

Now, if only I could get the hang of a tailwheel....