Yay! Two posts in two days! Wow. If anybody actually sees this, they might be impressed.
So, here's my question: why is it that every day I'm stuck at work turns out to be beautiful?
See, our scheduling at East Hill is always by reservation. You have to go online to the special site, check availability, and sign up to use the plane on a given date and time. They tend to fill up fast, too, so you have to go several days in advance, if not weeks. So you sign up and hope that the day will be decent enough to fly. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't. That's just the way the world works.
Well, as I said in my last (first?) post, I'm working on cross-country flying. That takes a good, long while. So the only time I really have to do these flights is on weekends, when I'm not working. Well, those two days haven't been the most cooperative of late. Meanwhile, on the nice days (like today), I'm stuck at work. Have I mentioned that I work in a basement? With no windows? Yeah. That part of the job really sucks. Don't get me wrong - it's a good job. Good pay, benefits, good hours, and decent kinds of jobs to do. And even the "no windows" thing is okay - it keeps me from getting all distracted, I guess. But still - I'm not exactly able to get out and enjoy the nice weather all too often, and we Ithacans know that nice weather is too rare to be ignored!
So here's my solution: I have vacation days that I haven't used, and no real plans to use them. So, whenever the weather outlook is for fair weather and favorable flying conditions, I'm going to see if I can get the plane. If I can get the plane, I'm taking the day off of work. They can handle it without out me for a day or two here and there. Besides, it's still summer (for another month. Ish.), and things are going pretty slow.
I'm putting this plan into action tomorrow morning. I'm taking the day off. I've got the plane reserved, the weather looks to be in the 90s, and they're saying winds will be fairly light. Here's hopin'.
I'll let you know how it goes, of course.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Woo. New 'blog.
'Kay. So work is SLOOOOOOOW this summer, and I'm running out of things to do at work. I did have a journal that I kept online for a while, but editing it by hand with the raw HTML was getting tedious, and when I was sitting at home (where I'd do the updating), I never felt like I had anything good to say, anyway. Maybe inspiration will strike more when I'm at work and editing this thing is easier. We'll see. But regardless, I don't really expect anyone to actually READ this thing. It's mainly something for me to do... or to vent with.
What do I have to vent about? Flying. It's simultaneously the source of my greatest joys and my greatest annoyances. I've wanted to learn to fly ever since I learned that my paternal grandfather was a pilot (Thunderbolts and Mustangs over the Pacific). I initially wanted to join the Air Force, but poor vision meant they wouldn't have let me fly, anyway (or at least that's what I was told at the time). In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't join up - if I had, I'd be writing this from Afghanistan or Iraq, and I would have likely been asked to go out and kill people, and I'm not so keen on that idea. Anyway, after college and having no clue what I wanted to do with my life, a friend got me a "Discovery Flight" at the local flying club, and I was hooked. So I've been learning since May of 2006. First soloed on September 21, 2006. I've been working on my solo cross-country flying for a very long time - but I keep getting grounded.
Hence the frustration.
I don't have enough time to dedicate to a long flight except on weekends, when I don't have to work. Once I get the weekend free and the plane booked, I have to contend with the weather. It's too cloudy, or too windy, or raining, or likely to thunderstorm, or some other act of God gets in the way. One weekend recently, I had the plane booked, the flight planned (except for the last details, like wind correction and such), and was all set - until I was reminded that I was on call for the Red Cross that weekend, and so I couldn't really go anywhere. So I had to cancel the flight. Wouldn't you know it - that day was probably the most beautiful, perfect-weather-for-flying days we've had ALL YEAR. And I got to sit at home, waiting for an emergency call that never came (which is actually great news - I'm not complaining about THAT part). In hindsight, I could easily have done the flight and gotten away with it, but with my luck, the beeper would have gone off as soon as I crossed the county line. I stay home, it's quiet. I try to go anywhere, and I'll have twenty calls to respond to. Sigh.
On the upside, I have gotten two of my three solo cross-countries in (and no, it doesn't mean flying to California. I said "cross-country," not "Across THE country."): Ithaca-Oswego-Ithaca and Ithaca-Dansville-Elmira-Ithaca. I have one more solo cross-country (Ithaca-Canandaigua-Wellsville-Ithaca) to do, then a dual cross-country at night, and then all my requirements are done and I can take the exams and get the license. But first, that dart of "I think I'll try to fly on this day" has to hit a fair-weather day across all of New York.
I'd hoped to get in that last solo x-c in this past weekend, but no dice - low clouds all over. Instead, I did some patternwork. For the uninformed, that refers to staying in the airport's traffic pattern - basically, a rectangular course with the runway as one of the long sides - to practice landing technique. Because of the way the planes were parked in the hangar, I flew in 6230Q - one of the club's Cessna 152s - instead of 25028, which I've been flying a lot on the cross-countries (028 has an extra piece of navigation equipment to receive VOR signals, whereas 30Q does not). I hadn't flown 30Q - "Becky," as I've heard her called - since December, due to maintenence and the need for the aforementioned extra nav equipment. Anyway, it was really great to fly that plane again! I can't really explain it - maybe the controls felt more responsive or something - maybe it was just the fact that the nosewheel actually STEERS (028's seems to just caster) - but it was a joy to fly. Six landings, and they all felt pretty darn good.
[Why's 6230Q called "Becky," you ask? In radio lingo, you read letters out as a standardized word - A is "Alpha," B is "Bravo," C is "Charlie," and so on. The number "6230Q" is read out as "six two three zero Quebec." "Quebec." "Bec." "Becky." Pretty cute, eh?]
Before I went up, though, another student flew - and did his first solo! Very big landmark in a pilot's training, although it's really not all that crazy. You just go up on your own and do three times around the pattern, but you're alone for the first time. Man, when I did mine, I was wearing a big, goofy grin on my face the entire time. It was great. This guy seemed fairly nonplussed about the whole thing, but whatever. It's still a big day.
After I flew, the instructor still at the club (everyone else was out in Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the big airshow there) asked if I'd like to go with him down to Corning-Painted Post to get another of the club's planes that's down there for maintenence. He was going to go with another of the club members, then they'd each fly one of the planes back, and he said he'd welcome the company. Of course, I said yes - but the other pilot brought his son along, to keep HIM company, and together, we were too heavy. So I stayed behind. SAD! Oh well. It gave me a chance to get some grocery shopping done.
And yes, if given the choice, I would go flying rather than shopping. No-brainer.
Well, we'll see what happens with this here lil' 'blog (and yes, I believe there IS supposed to be an apostrophe in "'blog." It's short for "weblog," after all, right?). The inaugural post is complete! Let the comments fall where they may.
Happy flyin'.
What do I have to vent about? Flying. It's simultaneously the source of my greatest joys and my greatest annoyances. I've wanted to learn to fly ever since I learned that my paternal grandfather was a pilot (Thunderbolts and Mustangs over the Pacific). I initially wanted to join the Air Force, but poor vision meant they wouldn't have let me fly, anyway (or at least that's what I was told at the time). In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't join up - if I had, I'd be writing this from Afghanistan or Iraq, and I would have likely been asked to go out and kill people, and I'm not so keen on that idea. Anyway, after college and having no clue what I wanted to do with my life, a friend got me a "Discovery Flight" at the local flying club, and I was hooked. So I've been learning since May of 2006. First soloed on September 21, 2006. I've been working on my solo cross-country flying for a very long time - but I keep getting grounded.
Hence the frustration.
I don't have enough time to dedicate to a long flight except on weekends, when I don't have to work. Once I get the weekend free and the plane booked, I have to contend with the weather. It's too cloudy, or too windy, or raining, or likely to thunderstorm, or some other act of God gets in the way. One weekend recently, I had the plane booked, the flight planned (except for the last details, like wind correction and such), and was all set - until I was reminded that I was on call for the Red Cross that weekend, and so I couldn't really go anywhere. So I had to cancel the flight. Wouldn't you know it - that day was probably the most beautiful, perfect-weather-for-flying days we've had ALL YEAR. And I got to sit at home, waiting for an emergency call that never came (which is actually great news - I'm not complaining about THAT part). In hindsight, I could easily have done the flight and gotten away with it, but with my luck, the beeper would have gone off as soon as I crossed the county line. I stay home, it's quiet. I try to go anywhere, and I'll have twenty calls to respond to. Sigh.
On the upside, I have gotten two of my three solo cross-countries in (and no, it doesn't mean flying to California. I said "cross-country," not "Across THE country."): Ithaca-Oswego-Ithaca and Ithaca-Dansville-Elmira-Ithaca. I have one more solo cross-country (Ithaca-Canandaigua-Wellsville-Ithaca) to do, then a dual cross-country at night, and then all my requirements are done and I can take the exams and get the license. But first, that dart of "I think I'll try to fly on this day" has to hit a fair-weather day across all of New York.
I'd hoped to get in that last solo x-c in this past weekend, but no dice - low clouds all over. Instead, I did some patternwork. For the uninformed, that refers to staying in the airport's traffic pattern - basically, a rectangular course with the runway as one of the long sides - to practice landing technique. Because of the way the planes were parked in the hangar, I flew in 6230Q - one of the club's Cessna 152s - instead of 25028, which I've been flying a lot on the cross-countries (028 has an extra piece of navigation equipment to receive VOR signals, whereas 30Q does not). I hadn't flown 30Q - "Becky," as I've heard her called - since December, due to maintenence and the need for the aforementioned extra nav equipment. Anyway, it was really great to fly that plane again! I can't really explain it - maybe the controls felt more responsive or something - maybe it was just the fact that the nosewheel actually STEERS (028's seems to just caster) - but it was a joy to fly. Six landings, and they all felt pretty darn good.
[Why's 6230Q called "Becky," you ask? In radio lingo, you read letters out as a standardized word - A is "Alpha," B is "Bravo," C is "Charlie," and so on. The number "6230Q" is read out as "six two three zero Quebec." "Quebec." "Bec." "Becky." Pretty cute, eh?]
Before I went up, though, another student flew - and did his first solo! Very big landmark in a pilot's training, although it's really not all that crazy. You just go up on your own and do three times around the pattern, but you're alone for the first time. Man, when I did mine, I was wearing a big, goofy grin on my face the entire time. It was great. This guy seemed fairly nonplussed about the whole thing, but whatever. It's still a big day.
After I flew, the instructor still at the club (everyone else was out in Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the big airshow there) asked if I'd like to go with him down to Corning-Painted Post to get another of the club's planes that's down there for maintenence. He was going to go with another of the club members, then they'd each fly one of the planes back, and he said he'd welcome the company. Of course, I said yes - but the other pilot brought his son along, to keep HIM company, and together, we were too heavy. So I stayed behind. SAD! Oh well. It gave me a chance to get some grocery shopping done.
And yes, if given the choice, I would go flying rather than shopping. No-brainer.
Well, we'll see what happens with this here lil' 'blog (and yes, I believe there IS supposed to be an apostrophe in "'blog." It's short for "weblog," after all, right?). The inaugural post is complete! Let the comments fall where they may.
Happy flyin'.
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