Eblo

My First Solo Solo

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Listening to the morning news on Monday told me it wasn't going to be a good week for flying. Monday itself was decent, but I was feeling a bit crummy, so I didn't fly. Tuesday and Wednesday were just plain crappy. Thursday was finally pretty decent, but the winds were just a little too strong. They were blowing 12-20 knots. I currently have a limitation of 11kt total winds with 6kt maximum crosswind component when soloing. So despite a clear sunny day, I was grounded again.

Friday, however, turned out to be beautiful. The winds were maxing out at about 5 kts at about 300 degrees. So taking off from runway 270 was going to be no problem with regard to wind limitations. I called out to the airport and reserved the plane.

It was about 20 degrees F. Aircraft really love cold weather. Once they get started. Engines run better because the air is dense so there is more oxygen available for combustion. Airfoils, including the propeller, can take a better bite out of the air, so climb performance is a lot better than on hot days as well. And I was by myself. The airplane was leaping off the runway because it wanted to fly so much.

There wasn't much to mention about the flight. There was no other traffic to contend with. None of my eight landings were bad, though a few flares could have been more complete before touchdown. The winds stayed calm and shifted anywhere from 250-290 degrees.

I did do one short-field takeoff, which is designed to get the aircraft up over a 50-foot obstacle in the shortest ground distance. You start out with two notches of flaps, hold the brakes, and run the engine up to full before you start the ground roll. Once you get to about 50kts, you pretty much yank the plane off the runway and climb like a rocket. Especially alone. On a cold day.

The significant thing about the flight for me, though, was that my instructor was not there at all. Past solos started out with him in the plane with me. This one was all me. I started the plane. I shut it down. Me. Me. Me. What a feeling of freedom.

BTW, I finally got some pictures scanned from my solo T-shirt ceremony. The ritual is that on the day of your solo, they cut your shirt tail, write some commemorative details on it, and hang it in the FBO until you get your license, when you get to rip it down. My ceremony was delayed a few days because the shirt I wore during my solo wasn't conducive to being written on. The advantage was that I got to have a photographer there. John is my AOPA mentor. He flew over from Lake in the Hills to congratulate me and snap a few photos. I don't know why Brice, my CFI and I don't look happy, but I certainly was. We're both pretty stoic dudes. We work well together that way. Anyway, click the pic below to get to the Flying Pics gallery (which is sadly bare thus far).