Primary Flight Training, Instruction and Passing the Private Certificate, Part 2

Flash forward about 20 years from 1945, and I am age 32. By now I had served over eight years in the US Naval Air Reserve, had a seminal very first airplane ride in a Navy R4D-8, served as aircrewman in TBM-3 Avenger attack bombers in a VA squadron that subsequently transitioned to jets-first, the F9F straight-wing Panther and then to the F9F swept-wing Cougar, so I lost my flight time and flight pay in crewed aircraft. But, I participated in a time in the early 1950s when the US Navy was fighting a war in Korea and transitioning to jet aircraft and those were pretty exciting times, indeed. I transferred to a VP squadron flying as aircrew in P2V-5F Neptune patrol bombers, so regained aircrew status there in flights up to 10-12 hours duration. The R4D-8 of my first flight was a US Navy version of the Douglas Super DC-3 with new outer wing panels with modest sweepback, a longer strengthened fuselage, enlarged 'squared' tail unit, modified nacelles to totally enclose the wheels, uprated Pratt & Whitney R-1820-80 engines with 1,475 horsepower and other changes.

 

I remember that flight as if it were yesterday. We took off in miserable cold winter completely overcast conditions, climbed to about 8,000 feet where we broke out on top of white nubby cloud tops that stretched as far as the eye could see just below the welcome blue sky. Immediately, the cabin warmed from the heat of the sun through the windows and I thought to myself "Wow, I've got to learn to fly!" And, so I did.

 

I had been stationed at NAS Glenview in Illinois in a VP squadron after transferring from NAS Minneapolis to attend Grad School in Illinois. I went to school and lived and worked in the Chicago area for five years. I then took a position back in Minnesota which included a staff appointment at the University of Minnesota Medical School. After three years there I decided it was time to take an evening course in Aviation Ground School offered by the University, and felt that was all the time I had for classes. It was a three hour class one Thursday night per week offered at the University of Minnesota Flight Facilities at Anoka County Airport, ANE. At the nine pm break the first evening, I was approached by a fellow with a clipboard. He was a part-time flight instructor there who wanted to sign me up for flying lessons. I initially demurred, stating I only had time for Ground School. (I did have three jobs). He looked at me as if I were crazy, stating that Ground School was part of learning to fly and was incomplete without the flying lessons. I am forever grateful to him for changing my mind on the spot, and my first lesson was with him that coming Saturday morning.

 

The U of M when I first attended it in 1950 had a fleet of Aeronca 7AC Champion taildraggers, example the beautifully restored 7AC "Little Bear" illustrated right.  Now, in 1965 they had six nearly new Piper PA-28-140 150 horsepower all-metal low wing  tricycle-gear Cherokees, N501UM through N506UM, or Uncle Mikes as we called them. Again, I remember my first flight lesson as if it were yesterday. We had done a thorough walk around guided preflight, including engine compartment check and fuel drains for water or contaminants. ANE had a 5,950' by 100' runway 18-36 and a 2,650' by 75' runway 9-27 at that time in 1965. No tower then so 'see and be seen' with no straight-in approaches.

 

I shouted "Clear", started the engine, taxied to the warmup area short of runway 36, steering with my feet which was novel; went through the instruments scan and mag checks all at my Flight Instructor's  direction, then taxied into position and hold  after a clearing turn for traffic. The instructor reached behind me and gave me a blind flying hood to put on. I was instructed to advance the throttle (his hand was on it also) and follow him through on the controls, wheel and rudder pedals, while watching the instruments. So, we took off and climbed while I could only see the panel 'under the hood'. What a revelation! I performed turns to headings at his direction, climbs and descents and held steady magnetic course headings. At least, I was supposed to. There were some shaky moments where I over-controlled and 'chased' the compass needle and altimeter, but overall I thought it went fairly well. My instructor thought I did well and was more calm than the average student. Credit my long hours in the Avengers and Neptunes for that. Then, he had me take off the hood and asked me to take him back to the airport. I had absolutely no idea where we were, of course, having given up long before any turns and leg time attempt at memory. So, he pointed out various landmarks and I found I was at pattern altitude at the northwest corner of the field. Another revelation! I then flew at his commands and entered downwind, turning base and final and made my first landing by the numbers on runway 36, while being talked through all the steps. It was a terrific sensation, but  that first piloting experience was mentally and physically tiring. I think that is normal because you are pretty keyed up and there is a certain amount of tension, whether revealed or not. I was in a small sweat.

 

I don't know other's initial aircraft piloting  experience, but on reflection,  I think mine was an excellent way of introduction. Blind flying and guided control from the very start. My instructor later told me his ideal flight student would be a sixteen year old girl. She would not have an automobile driver's license, have no preconceived steering notions and would not be strong enough to NOT use the elevator trim at all times. I had a lot of unlearning to do as I tried to instinctively correct steering heading down the runway on takeoffs initially with the wheel (which operates the ailerons and lifts a wing) rather than my feet with the rudder pedals. It is said you don't make that mistake in a control stick aircraft. The Cherokee (example 140 illustrated right) had the elevator trim on the ceiling with the old-style crank and I would just strong arm the wheel most of the time in climbs and descents rather than easing the control pressures with trim. That built up strong biceps! I initially thought adding manual trim just increased the workload at critical times of flight, and worried that in a landing go-around it would be just one more complication to have to undo, and quickly! Time and experience in flight will allow you to temper those thoughts and properly trim, rather than wrestle,  your airplane.

 

Some more sophisticated aircraft make pitch trim  easy with electric elevator trim and an up/down thumb button right on the control wheel arm. But, I think the worst control disharmony is electric flaps on some of the Cessna 150 primary trainer models where it is very slow and you must divert your gaze to the left door frame area and watch that infernal thermometer-type degree angle flap indicator while holding the flap control button. I have some time in Cessna 150s (example 150 illustrated right) and 172s, but generally prefer low wing aircraft.  There can be a good argument for manual trim AND flaps on a trainer aircraft. The Cherokee has a manual, detented bar between the seats to set flaps by feel, instantly and positively without requiring diverted vision. Four positions are available, no flaps, 10, 25 or 40 degrees extension, with spring loaded return to the up position. Simple, quick and effective!  

 

I learned to fly when the FAA had a Blue Seal instrument requirement. The University had two WWII-era Link trainers and I recorded four hours of Link instrument time and 2.5 hours of actual hood dual instrument time on the way to my Private certificate. Spin training was no longer required, but I eventually asked my instructor about that and we did a two turn spin with recovery in the Cherokee at altitude at my request. I think we lost about 1,000+  feet altitude in that demonstration of a climbing departure stall and recovery from a spin to the left. Intentional stall practice below 2,500 feet above ground level was not permitted for safety.

 

The National average hours to achieve  the Private certificate 40 years ago was 62 hours. I could only fly an hour or two each week and took 68 hours to get my Private in Minnesota weather. That included 22.15 hours of day solo and 7.3 hours of solo cross-country. I received two hours of night dual instruction. The University had a rule that no student solos were permitted in 15 knot or greater crosswinds, so some scheduled time was scrubbed there. I soloed unexpectedly on a clear January day when the outside air temperature was 11 degrees F below zero! We would use two cans of 'HEET' in each fuel tank and run the electric fuel pump more often in such conditions. My instructor had to huddle in a plowed-out snowbank niche at 11 degrees below zero while I made three full stop solo takeoffs and landings on runway 27. Well, it was his call! We always flew the Cherokee with 25 gallons fuel in each wing tank with instructor or solo. Looking back, your solo is just a small accomplishment, having practiced landings and takeoffs and pattern work primarily only up to that time,  and more dual instruction takes place for quite a while before you do any more solo training flights again. I received my check ride with the FAA Examiner on 11 July, 1966 and passed my Private flight test then. The Written Private Exam had been passed at the completion of Ground School.  My FAA Check Ride was unusual and of some interest.

 

The University had Examining Authority from the FAA, but the FAA wanted to personally test every tenth student up for the Check Ride. The tenth student next up for the FAA check ride was a University staff member from Great Britain. He was apprehensive about taking the check ride with a stranger from the FAA because of his English accent. So, my instructor approached me, explaining the dilemma, and asked whether I would go to the FAA instead. That involved scheduling and flying the plane (N503UM) down to Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport where the FAA had an office. I had no issues with that and agreed to do as my instructor asked. On that day, 11 July, 1966, the weather was turning crappy with a thunderstorm predicted to pass through the area. I flew down to MSP and had to be vectored by Ground Control through numerous intersections, turns and crossings to the FAA at the base of the tower. 

 

I announced myself and was told my examiner was in a meeting. I could see him through a glass wall of the offices. He came out,  briefly introduced himself and asked me to prepare a flight plan to Rochester, MN about 75-80  miles farther away southeast. I did so and watched a heated argument taking place through that glass wall during the staff meeting, this was just after the noon hour. I thought-oh great, he's going to be in a foul mood! The meeting dragged on and I was rather impatient to see my appointment time lapse and now apprehensive because that meeting was not going well. Someone was getting chewed out and all looked chastened.

 

Finally, my examiner came out of the meeting, glanced at my Flight Plan and we went out to the airplane. He asked me to do a walk around preflight. I did so and we got in, I called the tower and they vectored me to a far, far runway for a takeoff to the southwest, which would work well for a left departure to Rochester. As I spoke to the tower, I noted the examiner leaned toward me to hear. I told him my hearing wasn't the greatest from a lot of Navy flying and he said his wasn't either. We only had a speaker in the ceiling of the Cherokee then; I used it at full volume and there were no noise reduction headsets back then, (the Cherokee 140 measures 107 dBA at head level at cruise). I made a slight crosswind correction and climbed out at his and the tower's direction to about 2.500 feet and established my heading to Rochester. He asked one question about what I would do if there was an electrical fire. Turn off the master switch! I had established heading and altitude for no more than two minutes when he asked me to cancel my flight plan and take him back for a landing at MSP. Yikes! What had I done wrong? I managed to call the tower and made a good landing despite my frame of mind and brought him back. He got out of the airplane and started hurriedly to his office in the beginning rain. Catching up, I asked him "How did I do?". he said "Oh, you passed", and asked me to wait a while before flying back to ANE because that thunderstorm was about to hit the field from the northwest. Please see and read Part 3.