Where have you been? What have you seen?
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By ClearOfCloud
FLYER Club Member  FLYER Club Member
#1812986
The quote is sometimes attributed to FDR but it's a lesson as old as human endeavour --

"A prospective student had asked about my skills recently and it prompted me to ask some questions of myself. Could I actually fly in a crosswind? Most of my recent flying has been in very benign conditions. With two summer storms striding in from the Atlantic it seems the wind either grounded everyone or been non-existent when I had time to go flying. It had been far too long since I had asked my hands and feet to do some real work

Last Saturday I had a couple of hours free of domestic responsibilities and it was blowy out there - easily ten knots across the runway. It was the sort of afternoon that I knew the airfield would be lonely - all of my hangar-mates have answered their own questions through the decades. Sure enough, when I got to the airfield the overcast galvanised doors were drawn closed and the engines were mortuary cold. Fortunately the little Luscombe was at the front and in just a few minutes I was strapped in and giving myself a safety briefing.

This briefing included telling myself to abandon the flight if any part of the ground handling wasn't fully under control. I covered the possibility that once aloft I may not be able to manage today's crosswinds by reminding myself that there were 2 into wind runways just a few minutes' flight away. Identifying your "outs'' and giving yourself "permission" to take them definitely reduces stress in life. There is a lot to be said for pre-made decisions.

When I finally lifted off from the grass, the fun really started. Like a dinghy passing the harbour wall I got bounced quite a bit as I cleared the trees at the far end but once over 700 feet the turbulence smoothed out and I could relax - a little. It was remarkably smooth at 1000ft and I could hear the local flying club on the radio, practising landings over to the North West. Their runway oriented into today's wind would make for lovely touchdowns. I wondered what was in store for me as I headed down the funnel towards my first approach.

I could see an improvement in my speed management, which I’ve been practising recently but when I made my last right turn to final it all got a bit lumpy-bumpy. The burbling I experienced down low during take-off once-again fickled at my wings: The wind was at once present, then suddenly absent, reappearing with more vigour as I descended. As both familiarity and the ground approached, I decided it was best to go-around and consider my new found friend at a safer height.

Back up at 1000ft, I decided that while surface turbulence was making my approach challenging it had been controlled and not unsafe so I elected to continue my practice. Glancing across the countryside, I could see my diversion airfield was still available but I grew more confident that I’d be landing at home today.

It was a little too busy for much reflection but I did wonder briefly if the local club heard me on frequency and thought “not the nicest day for flying old tailwheels”. That thought soon gusted away and I was settled into a concentrated approach to our little field. Speed control was mostly good, perhaps a little fast but reviewing the GoPro footage there were plenty of answers to the winds’ pestering questioning of my abilities. As soon as Luscombe and I dipped below the trees, the burbling relented and we arrived safe and well. The touchdown was a little firmer than I’d aspired to but with hindsight and the eyes of others on the footage, I was, perhaps, a little harsh on myself. Sometimes it is easier to be kinder to others than to ourselves.

Berating the final seconds of touchdown, I rolled the Luscombe to the end. I turned the aircraft around in the parking area, the little Continental engine rumbling way, and I had a little chat with myself. Was it a perfect approach? No. Was it safe? Yes Did I know what specifically I could improve? Yes. How did I feel? Challenged but not overwhelmed; so I decided to go again.

I managed to repeat the effort on the next circuit, this time with a slightly better touch down, though the camera gave up before I did - as is always the case.. It was certainly an exercise in “deliberate practice” rather than a leisurely bimble but I was glad my fellow pilot prompted me to question my skills some weeks before.

A smooth sea never made a skilful sailor, so the proverb goes and so it is with flying. In life sometimes it’s enough just to know your abilities and talents but skills: they are not immutable. They slip away from view, fade and dull.; they need to be demonstrated, practised, honed. Today, they got a little sharper."
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