It was another glorious morning. Crisp and clear with a hint of frost. What little frost was there flowed away as I wiped down the aeroplane's window. The wind was calm and what patches of fog remained burned away as the morning's shadows shortened.
The little Lycoming engine was reluctant to start but start it did. In appreciation of it's cooperation I gave it plenty of time to wake up - eagerly waiting for the oil temperature needle to enter the green arc on the dial. Clearance to taxi obtained, I wiped away the last of the condensation and we were rolling.
"Cleared for take off, left hand circuits"
There's a special feeling as you turn of the taxiway an on to the runway. You straighten up the airplane, checking the airplane is really ready to go, flaps, mixture and a final scan of the gauges, and then there's a moment. It happens when your eyes move from the cockpit and they gaze out at the runway ahead. Bordered by swathes of green, the runway guides your eyes skyward and for that moment this is your place. No one else on that road, no one else in your sky.
One last exhalation to gather myself and I advance the throttle, keep it straight, feeding in that rudder,a last check inside, full power on the dial, airspeed indicator is alive, looking out again, a little back pressure and my little machine lifts free. In the cold air, the Lycoming breathes deeply and the aeroplane just wants to climb but I have to level out at the required thousand feet. Me and my airplane wheel around onto the downwind leg, turning through the the glaring sun, till Howth is distant in my windshield and the sun now warms the side of my face.
I try for a couple of flapless landings. As with any landing, it starts on the downwind leg so I've decreased the throttle earlier and a little more than usual. Turning on to base my rate of decent is a little faster than I like so I feed a little more power back in, say a 100rpm, the engine note changes only slightly. I maintain 69 knots. At this speed without flaps the nose is a higher than normal but my view of the of the approach is still fine. Turning onto final approach the tower crackles- "..you're cleared to land, wind is calm". It's really not so different from a normal landing though the approach is shallower - slightly lower over the houses before crossing the hedges at the end of the runway. Over the hedge and I start taking a little power off - not too much mind, there's no wind there and the extra power helps with flying the plane all the way to touchdown. I've landed long but there's plenty of room for me to let the nose wheel settle and continue my roll for take-off. Full power, take-off flap and we're away again.
It's been a long time since I've been flying - three months or so - but it all comes back quickly for me. This experience of flying solo is still a little unnerving though. I've over a hundred hours at this stage but only 8 of them are solo. I remind myself frequently that the worst thing I'm going to do on my own is bust airspace or get lost and that I'm resourceful enough to be able to deal with those things. That's not really good enough for me though - I want to get it all right, all of the time. I don't want to be a Sunday flier but I constantly worry that my aspirations are greater than my skills.
The best thing for me now is to cut loose from my instructors and fly. A few hours on my own in an airplane, with a chart, pencil and plotter, finding my way across the skies - only that will give me the confidence to allow me to say "I, am a pilot".
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