This rainy season wasn’t nice to California pilots, at least not to those who like to look outside the windscreen. At one point, it rained for nearly 2 months straight. And like anything else that is exposed to the elements – rust starts to form.
Not the rust that a mechanic looks for. I’m talking about the kind of rust that corrodes the fine-tuned skills that a pilot worked hard to earn. So when the sun came out, my mission was simple: get the rust out! Little did I know how much there was.
When I saw blue sky, I went immediately online to my flight school, Diamond Aviation in San Carlos, California and looked for a rental plane to book. Wouldn’t you know it; the only aircraft available was a Cessna 182. My usual choices, all 172SPs, were booked.
No problem, I thought – I have my high-performance endorsement, I’m checked-out in that aircraft, and the last time I flew in the 182 was for my BFR only… wait, 11 months ago?
Time does fly, but apparently I wasn’t on board. My mind raced: throttle, mixture, PROP!? I could do it. It wasn’t like I was stepping into a jet – just a 172SP on steroids.
Skylane checklist in hand, I marched down to my flight school with confidence, walked out to the flight line, and marveled at how beautiful the 182 is. Tall, long, and strong, not to mention the power up front. A glance into the cockpit also reminded me that my instrument scan would take a bit longer.
Preflight complete, master switch on, “clear,” and the Skylane rumbled to life. I quickly remembered why a 182 costs more to rent. This was no trainer. This was an aircraft meant for transportation.
But it would only be short hops for me today. My planned cross-country flight to Santa Rosa (STS) was squelched by the SFO airspace along my route – the fine folks in the tower there weren’t accepting Class Bravo transitions today. Okay, plan B. Two short hops: to Half Moon Bay (HAF), then over to Palo Alto (PAO).
Time for takeoff, and here’s where the rust really showed. As I accelerated the Skylane, I was pushed back into my seat. I wasn’t used to the horses. Next difference: the yoke. Glad I’ve been working out, because taking this plane where you want it to go requires more than just your forefinger and thumb – the controls are heavier. But what you get in return is well worth it; a much more stable aircraft that slices through the bumps and turns with authority.
In flight, I noticed that I wasn’t climbing as well as I expected, and when level, I noticed I was actually descending. Not the plane’s fault – the pilot’s. I remembered that the instrument panel was larger than in the 172, and there wasn’t as much forward sight because of the longer cowling. Without knowing it, I was compensating by lowering the nose to see better.
Oh, and the manifold pressure. 23 squared, I kept telling myself. Or is it 22 squared? I got there, but it took several adjustments. I remembered one instructor who told me, “always keep the throttle slightly behind the prop.”
As I approached Half Moon Bay, I was busy. It’s a short 10 minute flight in the faster plane and between the instrument scan, the radios, and… oops, close those cowl flaps, I didn’t have much time to sightsee.
Now the landing. During my initial training in the bigger aircraft, I hit a plateau, bouncing the 182 several times in a row, and landing hard. My instructor advised me to come across the fence with power. It went against instinct, but turned out to be a simple fix.
Flaps to 20. 70 knots over the fence. Power off just before touch down. Flare. Not a perfect ten, but close enough after 11-months. 2 takeoffs and 3 landings later, the confidence was back and the heafty 182 felt good in my hands once again.
Should I have flown with an instructor after such a lapse? I didn’t feel it was necessary, because I fly an hour every 2 weeks in the 172SPs, and stick to my own personal minimums (no flight in the last 30 days? I take an instructor). The weather was good. The wind was relatively light.
But that shouldn’t stop you from putting the comfort of your instructor in the right seat. Just make sure to follow that dual flight with a solo flight. That’s where the true confidence comes from – and where the rust wears off.
Article by Chris Archer; Send him an email
Chris Archer Blogs by Archer Palo Alto, San Carlos, Santa Rosa
