Author: Kathryn Spurgeon

It’s a beautiful, clear, crisp morning in Oklahoma. Very little wind. Five knots. We leave from runway 1-6. I announce runway 3-4, but get corrected pretty quickly. For the Guthrie Edmond Regional Airport, the pattern altitude is 1,900 feet, meaning I should stay near that height while flying around the airport. Crosswind, downwind, base and final in one big rectangle. However, my six touch and go landings around the flight pattern vary from 2,100 feet up to 2,600 or so. My plane seems to thrive on rising above that ideal 1,900 feet. I don’t worry. The greater air cushion keeps me safer, right? Of course, maybe that’s why my landings are just as varied as my flying. Because for some reason the ground is still in the same place.

My flight instructor said we had a great flight. He said any time we can walk away from a flight, it’s a good one. And any time we can use the plane again, it’s a great flight. So, yes, we had a great flight.

 He also insists that consistency will help me. Consistency, meaning staying at the 1,900 feet. Oh. Well, guess I can’t quit flying yet. Still have things to learn. So, tell all my friends to keep praying, I’m still up in the air.

I added a pic of my husband and I getting ready for a flight. So much fun! But then, he’s the one flying that day!

Our flight in Bill’s Piper Twin engine Comanche to San Antonio was nondescript. By that I mean, I slept the whole way. Something about the hum of the engine and the monotonous clear sky makes me snooze. And, of course, I trust his flying expertise.

But our time in San Antonio, the city of a European/Southwestern-style, romantic river walk, was a different matter. I came down with a 24 hr virus and spent most of our time in the sleek hotel room perched over the toilet. Not good since we only stayed one day. Bill accused me of passing the poison to him even before I recovered. He worried about the sickness attacking while flying to Carthage, Texas. I admit the thought of having your pilot’s head stuck in a bag while 7,000 feet in the air did not appeal to me, but I figured we had about 12 hours before the thrust of the enemy struck him down, and during this window we could fly to our next destination, a one and ¾ hour flight. We took off.

Since an emergency hovered on the horizon, Bill decided I needed a quick lesson on how to fly the plane in case of a pilot’s temporary incapacity. Although I’ve had a few hours of lessons, this airplane was bigger and, I noticed, had a hundred times more gadgets. Here’s some of my pages of notes. Most importantly – DON’T PANIC.

Lesson #1. Leave the autopilot on as long as possible. If it’s flying great, don’t jump in and mess it up. Get your bearings first. Call in to notify ground control.

Lesson #2. Before I take the plane off autopilot, I can do this:  1) Move mixture forward-red levers–never, ever all the way back toward you! The engine will die. 2) Move the prop RPM forward-blue levers, 3) Pull back manifold pressure or power-white/gray levers- to 17 inches, 4)Put down landing gear when the airspeed gets down to 150 mph, and 5) check gasoline – change to main tanks. There are 3 tanks on each wing in this twin: tips, auxiliary, and mains; main should have the most fuel.  Do this now in case I forget later in all the excitement.

Lesson #3.  Now, to change directions – possibly following instructions over the headset. Hit the autopilot mode indicator button on the top of the panel and it will change to heading. HDG. Change the direction on the heading bug and the plane will automatically turn to that course. Wow! This is much easier to turn than the Grumman!

Lesson #4. To start descending. Push altitude hold button on the auto pilot panel to disengage altitude hold. ALT. Move the pitch wheel to the down position. DN. (Slighty move it up). DN. This should start the plane on a gradual descent. Watch the speed to make sure we don’t go down too fast which we definitely don’t want to do. If so, then adjust pitch wheel. Stay around 100 mph. Level off no lower than about 1,000 feet. Watch your speed. If it gets below 100 mph, add a little power. I can do this.

Lesson #5. Get ready to land. This is the hard part but I have to stay calm. Line the plane up with the runway. Put the flaps down. Trim the nose if needed.

Lesson #6. Land. Pull power back. Keep nose up. Pull power all the way back when over the runway. Touch down!

And remember, I can shove in the power and go around again, if I so desire. This is all assuming I know what the above mentioned terms and gadgets do.

Hopefully, if this emergency occurs, by this time my husband will have taken his head out of the sick bag to observe my excellent landing, and thank me for saving his life.

As always, I say a prayer before the flying lesson, “God keep us safe and get us back on the ground.” Today I add, “and don’t let me make a fool of myself again.” Thank you, Jesus, for the ability to attempt this at my age. Amen.

 While in Tulsa a few weeks ago, I went shopping with friends and bought a leather jacket. Yes, me! It makes me look like a real aviator. Doubles as an Indiana Jones costume when I put on the hat Pa gave me. Glenn, my instructor doesn’t notice.

 During the flying lesson, my instructor stresses the word “stabilize”. My touch and go landings look like a drunk weaving down the highway, nausea could easily overtake me. It feels like those occasional gusts of whipping wind that attempts to wipe your car off the road. So “stable” is the word for the day. Stable on downwind, on approaches, on landings, and on take offs. Basically, control the plane a little better. Even when it whips back and forth like a volleyball? Especially then.

 I finally learn to keep my hand on the throttle while flying around the pattern, just in case we get too low, go too fast or, crazy thought, overshoot the runway. Good advice, Glenn.

By the way, in debriefing, he asks if I plan to fly solo. Me, the unstable one? Which, I’m reminded, proves why I need these lessons. But solo? Fly by myself? Take that machine up into the sky alone? By the way, my pilot husband thinks my instructor has found a gold mine, the years it will take to teach me to land, much less ever solo. I think I can pass the medical, but the biggest drawback to flying solo, I learn, besides the thousand hours I need to become “stable”, is passing a written test.  Have you seen the detail in that book? I’m getting familiar with Chapter 1 because I’ve read it about 20 times (not exaggerating) but the next 11 chapters have titles like Procedures and Airport Operations, Flight Instruments, Navigation and Weather Service. What do they think I want to do, become a pilot?

 For the first time, I consider flying solo. Maybe it’s possible, say, ten years from now. At the moment, I’m still trying to get stable.