Back to the 'Burg

The past two years, as a member of my firm's hiring committee, I have driven to the College of William & Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia to recruit second year law students for our summer internship program. This year, the interviews were scheduled for the Friday before my much-anticipated week vacation in Montreal. A solid three hour drive, even with decent traffic, it had the makings for a long pre-vacation day.

I thought about flying, but I'm currently only allowed to fly a few of our club's planes, and they were all booked. However, I whined loudly to Rich, who finagled getting permission to telecommute for the day, and we reserved the Piper Cherokee.

And just like that, a dreaded day became an exciting day.

Although it was an early start, it was a gorgeous morning for a flight. I got to the airport before Rich and Eddie to pre-flight the plane, and took careful note of the gaping hole where the plane's GPS unit is usually located. Thinking it might be like my car's CD player (with a removable front panel) I casually asked Rich after he arrived where I might find the GPS unit to put it back in.

Rich just laughed and said something about it having been removed in anticipation of an upgrade. I freaked. I had flight planned to go through "the corridor" (i.e., a narrow 4-mile strip of airspace between two restricted zones that gets navigation-savvy pilots -- and those using GPS -- straight line from Gaithersburg out to the Coast) and reminded Rich of this fact. He reminded me, in turn, that real pilots don't need GPS. So, with charts in hand, we took off only a half hour late and headed East through the corridor.

It wasn't long before we could see the water, and turned South towards Williamsburg. With the sun streaming in through the windows, it was the kind of day where you wish you could just keep flying forever. Eddie seemed a bit lonely without Gillian in the backseat to snuggle with, but he still sat up nicely for his photograph.

Williamsburg sits tucked between the York and James Rivers, which make for easy landmarks; however, I wasn't able to get my bearings on the College or the Law School from the air. As we closed in on the airport, we tried to get the FBO to call us a taxi, but they weren't able to receive us clearly. Around the same time, another pilot announced he was inbound for Williamsburg and intended to make a with-the-wind landing. We quickly announced (again) that we were already in position for an opposite-the-wind landing, but we weren't confident he heard us. So, Rich flew while I scanned. (Two pilots are better than one.) I finally spotted him, he answered our call, and we touched down shortly before 9 a.m.

We quickly tied down the plane, got the FBO to call us a cab, and I fell through the door of the interview room in time for interview #3. I had already given the other Venable attorney a heads-up that I was running (flying?) late, though, so all was well. It's amazing how much slack people cut you when you're a pilot. I suppose "plane trouble" just sounds so much cooler than "car trouble."

After my interviews were done around 5, we made a quick detour to Colonial Williamsburg so I could pick up a Caithness for my parent's 40th wedding anniversary present, and then headed to the airport. With the setting sun, the flight home was even more breathtaking than the one down. Rich indulged me, only somewhat grudgingly, as I repeatedly requested that he take the controls so that I could take pictures and a few quick videos.

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=2587761595921238152&hl=en&fs=true

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4511522166657955210&hl=en

I joked that my Mum always asks who is flying the plane while I'm taking photographs, just before I took this one:

In case you haven't guessed, Rich is wondering the same thing. :-)

Although Rich could navigate in his sleep, we weren't keen to attempt the corridor at night, and so didn't dawdle on our way home. Fortunately, even a straight line path takes you over one gorgeous body of water to the next.

I plan to start a "wall o' flying" in my condo with my favorite pictures enlarged and framed, but it is going to be hard to decide which one to use from this flight.

As we tied down the plane that night, it was with that comfortable smile that comes at the end of a really good day. In fact, I can't remember my last "working day" that I've enjoyed more...

Last Call For Flying W

There are a number of steps in the road to becoming a pilot. Some of them are mandatory "non shall pass X (unless you pass Y)" steps imposed by the FAA. Others are more natural milestones, like carrying passengers for the first time after getting your license.

Several months ago, Rich and I were perusing the reading materials in Clearview's FBO and came across an advertisement for a funky little airport called "The Flying W" in New Jersey. We decided it would be a fun weekend destination, and invited several friends to join us. As the numbers of attendees slowly crept upward, Rich warned me, "You better have your pilot's license before then 'cause I ain't gonna be yo' chauffeur no mo'."

With nine days to spare, I decided to comply.

My friend, Shivi, was quick to volunteer for a spot in my plane, despite my Rookie status. (It's a Canadian thing.)

Rich's friend, Jason, also found himself to be one of my lucky passengers. Although it was Jason's first time in a small plane, and he was aware (more or less) of my Rookie status, he was kind enough to not scream like a girl on take-off.

We had a beautiful day for our trip. Jason showed a genuine interest in learning to fly, so we worked on his pilotage skills along the way. It was fun for me to get to bestow knowledge while in flight for a change.

Rich got a Bravo clearance and crossed over Baltimore and Alex went out through the corridor, while my passengers got the scenic flight around Baltimore and Philadelphia restricted air spaces. The views were incredible, though, so I didn't hear any complaints.

Jason got a really nice shot of downtown Philadelphia. Skirting the edge of Bravo, it was the closest I'd been to the City from the air, and an awesome view.

My route of flight required me to descend quickly after crossing over a Class D airspace to land at Flying W. Although there are two airports with 5 miles of each other, the Flying W is easily recognizable from the air by its unique airplane-shaped swimming pool (despite the fact that it's hard to see in the photo).

I wasn't thrilled with the feel of the plane I was flying (my favorite C-172, Romeo, was not out of her annual in time to make the trip so I had had to rent a C-172 from another Club), but, other than being slightly left of center, it was a soft landing.

Our plane was the last of the three to arrive (although it's not much of a competition between a C-172, a Piper and a Mooney!), but Shivi, Jason and I quickly made up for lost time.

The Flying W is the kind of place you really need to experience for yourself. With the airport a stones throw from the pool, playground, bar, restaurant, FBO, second bar and hotel, it kind of feels like Disneyland for Pilots.

We spent most of the afternoon lounging by the pool. The unexpected appearance of Lilo and Stitch was an added bonus.

Eventually, we made our way to the restaurant for dinner. The food was mediocre, and after waiting 45 minutes for our bill, we decided to leave the waitress a sign that we had gone to the adjoining bar to listen to the band.

It's usually the band you've never heard of that ends up rocking your night away. So it was with Sloppy & The Joes. Shivi and I, never ones to shy from the dance floor, enjoyed some good boot-stomping fun with the locals.

Luckily, despite a series of shenanigans that continued late into the night, we managed to avoid being tossed in the Flying W Jail House.

The next morning did bring an unpleasant surprise, however, with a flat nose tire on my C-172. Being a Sunday, the FBO was initially somewhat ambivalent about my chances of finding someone to fix it. Two white knight mechanics in my flying club offered to make the trek over from Gaithersburg; however, their kind offer was not necessary in the end, as a mechanic from the nearby airport came over and replaced the tire's inner tube.

After arriving back at Gaithersburg, a number of us lingered in the parking lot, delaying the inevitable end to a great weekend for as long as possible. I will be the first to admit that I had scoffed initially when Rich spoke of wanting Alex, himself and myself to land our planes in quick succession (formation?) at The Flying W, but there is something almost magical about flying trips with multiple planes and multiple friends along for the ride.

Eventually, Jason, John, Shivi, myself, Rich, and Alex posed for one last football shot (ball not featured in photograph) before parting ways.

Not before making tentative plans for our next weekend trip to The Flying W, however.

Tiger Time

When babies are little, parents are encouraged to give them "tummy time" to help them strengthen important muscles. After passing my private exam on Thursday, Greg offered to take me flying before our weekly Tuesday club meeting in the plane we will be co-sharing (once I get checked out) for a little "Tiger time." It was a beautiful evening for a flight.

We weren't able to get away from the office as early as we'd hoped, so rather than my favorite run out over Harper's Ferry, we decided to stay in the pattern. Still, with the setting sun over Sugarloaf Mountain, Greg did not hear any complaints from his co-pilot.

It was my first time in the front seat of the Tiger, and it simply reaffirmed what I already knew. It's a beautiful plane, and the views from the cockpit are incredible. It's also quiet and handles well. I am excited at the thought of getting to know the Tiger inside out and backwards, so that it becomes less a machine and more an extension of self.

Fortunately, with my uber-mentor for a flying partner, I don't think that's going to be a problem. :)

After tying down the Tiger, we high-tailed it over to the picnic tables where the gents were already gathered, so Rich could proudly announce to the Club that he would be able to sleep in more often as I no longer needed flying lessons twice a week at 5:00 a.m. After a round of congratulations, a group of us headed over to Gentleman Jim's for a celebratory drink on the newest pilot in the Club.

It was a great feeling to be the Rookie instead of the Student.

They Say A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words.

I must admit that it certainly is a pretty sight ...

Yep, that's right. Last Thursday I left behind my days as a student pilot by successfully completing my check ride with an FAA designated examiner!! It was an intense morning that began with me knocking on the examiner's office door at 9 a.m. and his reply, "Come in, said the spider to the fly..."

Once up in the air, I aced the three maneuvers I lay awake worrying about on Wednesday night, but could have done better on a few others. Still, at the end of the hour+ flight the examiner told me that he "couldn't think of any reason not to give me a license," and that was good enough for me!!

I trust the below photographs of our celebration that night need no explanation.

Because in this one, Rich is warning me that former flight students who successfully complete their check rides should never have only one drink in their hand.

While in this one, Greg is making sure that his former flight mentee ... oh, whatever.

It was a terrific party. What started off as one hell of a morning, turned into one amazing day. And yes, Friday morning at the office hurt. A lot. But it was totally worth it.

"Up, up, and away!!!"

Ode to Gillian

Last Saturday I got up at 4:30 for one last lesson with Rich before my scheduled FAA flight exam (both oral and practical). So focused was I on what lay ahead that I didn't even stop to look out my window. Nope, it wasn't until I walked outside and saw lightning in the distance that it occurred to me that I might not be flying that morning. A quick call to the FSS confirmed the obvious -- there were convective sigmets (i.e., thunderstorms) in the area -- so no flying. I called and woke Rich up because misery loves company. Um, I mean I called Rich to make sure that he had looked out his window. He confirmed that he had and we both went back to sleep.

I arrived at the designated examiner's office shortly before 9 for my oral exam. He quizzed me on airport signage, charts symbols and interpretation, hypotheticals involving plane operations and equipment, weight and balance problems, conversion from Fahrenheit to Celsius and vice versa, then he reviewed my cross country flight plan, and finally, just when I was beginning to wish I had had more than two bites of my breakfast bagel, he asked me if I wanted to go flying. It was about 11:30, and the sky looked clear.

A phone call to the FSS, however, indicated that the good weather was not going to last long enough to complete the exam. A line of thunderstorms was approaching from the West. We agreed to reschedule for Thursday morning before he sent me on my way, with only a semi stern warning to not lose all my money on the tables.

Given the approaching storms, we kicked our flight preparations into high gear. Rich needed to get out to his bachelor party, and Gillian, Shivi and I just needed to get to the beach to party. Although I would have been more excited had my practical been completed, I was still on a high from having passed the oral.


Shivi and Gillian made the planes look good while Rich and I finalized plans.

In the four months Gillian has been living with me, she has witnessed most of my journey towards pilothood and has even learned a good deal along the way herself. Yep, it makes me darn proud that she not only now appreciates the origin of my "Remove Before Flight" t-shirt, but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

After we took off, we got a Bravo Clearance to fly over Baltimore at 5,500 AGL. It was my first time flying over Baltimore in daylight, and I have no doubt that our flight path wavered slightly as I ogled the sights beneath us.

Both Gillian and Shivi captured some great shots from their spots in the back.

Gillian was very excited that her BFF was able to come on her last flight.

After all, it's not nearly as much fun to take fake "I'm so scared of flying" or "look Mum, I'm falling out of an airplane" photographs by yourself.

At one point, Rich and I considered whether there might be an excess of carbon monoxide in the plane, but ultimately decided that Gillian and Shivi are just naturally crazy.

After arriving in Atlantic City, we were momentarily disappointed to discover that it was not kosher to have alcohol on the boardwalk. However, it didn't take us long after checking into our 1.5* hotel to find a bar that served tequila. Yep, pilots are a resourceful sort.

After the bar, we decided to check out a fancy new mall. The people-watching was fantastic.

Then we decided to cause a little trouble out on the pier.

When that got old, we found a bar on the beach and took bets as to whether the local band had purposefully turned off the only female singer's mike. Rich then made friends with Gregory, who worked at The Rainforest Cafe two years ago. Gregory warned Shivi that "somebody's daughter is in trouble tonight." Gillian, Shivi and I quickly agreed that it wouldn't be anybody's daughter we knew.

As we made our way back to the hotel so Rich could get going to his soon-to-be brother-in-law's bachelor party, Shivi and Gillian decided to take a turn playing the drums with some aspiring musicians.

Then we cleaned up (just a bit) and took the Tropicana Tiki Bar by storm.

The bartenders could make vodka redbulls with the best of them, the tunes were rocking, and the night slipped away.

We eventually decided to crash the bachelor party, where Rich, Gillian and Shivi paid tribute to Atlantic City with a locally (i.e., Gregory) learned sign of respect: Fist Pump!!

The next morning we were moving a bit slowly, but there was no rush to return to D.C. When we finally got up in the air, the flying conditions were absolutely beautiful. Day 2 in the Piper felt much more familiar than Day 1. Of course, sitting on the cowl plugs helped as it drastically improved my line of sight.

Oh, how far I've come since my second lesson when I was annoyed at Rich's suggestion that I look into purchasing a booster seat. But who needs a booster seat when you have cowl plugs???

Spirits were high as we sailed onwards to D.C. I had to take one last peace sign photograph for Gillian, who's doing a Fist Pump, while Rich made clear he wasn't flying, and poor Shivi undoubtedly wondered what travelling circus she had signed up with.

I reclaimed my camera from Gillian long enough to capture the view off to my left, and marvelled at the wondrous freedom general aviation offers.

As we approached Gaithersburg, Gillian gave me a silent shout-out from the back seat, imitating my call sign.

Although I would have been sad had I stopped to think that my last flight with Gillian (at least for a while) was about to come to an end, it was a near perfect weekend adventure.

And I wouldn't change a thing about it, or these last four months. I know Gillian doesn't need me to write how much I'm going to miss her, but I'm going to do it anyway. She has lived through most of this adventure and has been unconditionally understanding when I've cancelled plans because of the need to study or fly, has been my devoted passenger on numerous training flights, has encouraged me when I needed encouraging, has taken countless photographs to satisfy my blogging urges, and, recently in a D.C. cab, proved that she is, hands-down, my #1 flying fan.

I know this is a comma and not a period, that every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end, and any other number of cheesy expressions that are supposed to help you keep perspective when all you want to do is be sad. But I am sad that Gillian is leaving. There is no doubt that it has been a great ride, though.

In fact, several.