The first time I took a passenger, I was flying one of my best friends whom I had blown off plans with a few times due to my rigorous training schedule in the weeks leading up to my check ride. Garrick had been in a general aviation plane before on a skydiving trip, but he hadn’t been in a four-seater like this or been at the controls of the plane. The day we were slated to fly, I had been monitoring the arrival of a cold front moving through the area, and called Garrick at the last minute to tell him the flight was still on. With the short flight I had planned, I felt confident that we could fit it in before the front pushed through the area. We took off and went southwest to Winchester, Virginia (KOKV). As soon as we touched down, I made a split second decision to do a touch and go (which I was used to doing with my instructor because she would raise the flaps for me). That went off without a hitch, and we were on our way back to Frederick in no time.

About halfway home, somewhere over Charlestown, WV, our plane started hitting a few bumps. Before we knew it, we were rocking and rolling all over the place. The front must’ve caught up with us faster than I thought! I thought back to all the times I was told how important it was to keep your passengers calm, and that the best way to do that was appearing calm on the outside. Well, I can tell you that I didn’t feel calm AT ALL! All I was thinking was, “Great, I take my friend flying and then I put us into an invisible whirlpool.” However, I just kept quiet and focused on staying in control of the aircraft. As we got closer to the mountains, I felt a slight sense of relief because I knew the airport was on the other side. At one point, Garrick asked, “Hey, so what do you think we should do Saturday night?” I thought, “Saturday night??!! I just want to make it through the next ten minutes!”  I calmly told him to hold on and that I would discuss plans with him after we were on the ground because I needed to concentrate on my approach into the FDK airspace. After we landed, I took a deep breath and was happy to learn that Garrick had really enjoyed the flight. I enjoyed it, too, because I let him fly for part of it and got to nag him about maintaining his altitude, as my instructor had once done to me.

The next time I took a passenger, I was flying my priest’s niece (try saying that five times fast) and her friend. They were on Spring Break from college and had never been in a small plane. I was thrilled to give them their first flight. They were so excited that they were dancing around wearing big smiles as I was preflighting. We got all set to go, I gave them their passenger briefing, and tuned in to the weather to hear what runway we would be using. Instead, I didn’t hear anything. Confused, I tuned into both ground and tower to see if my radios were working. I still didn’t hear anything. I panicked and started calling my instructor and my boyfriend to see who would pick up first. My boyfriend came out and I shut down the plane so we could work with the radios. He finally just called ground control for a radio check and they replied “loud and clear.” We then learned that the ASOS wasn’t working, so that’s why we couldn’t hear the weather. Additionally, it was just a quiet day at the airport and not many people were flying, hence the silence on the radio. Feeling sort of silly but relieved, I then tried to restart the plane using the hot start procedure. I was having trouble with it, and eventually ended up flooding the engine. I began growing very frustrated and almost thought about scrapping the whole thing. However, these girls were so excited that I knew I needed to make this happen for them. I waited another minute, collected my thoughts, and finally got the engine started. They were practically squealing with delight as we took off, and I was filled with joy that they would always remember taking this flight with me.

I soon got a request from my sister to take her friend DJ flying. He was really interested in aviation and asked me tons of questions as I was preflighting. We were going to fly to York, Pennsylvania (KTHV) for breakfast. It was a beautiful morning, and I had been practicing the route and approach into York so that I would feel very comfortable. It was also the first time my sister was flying with me without another CFI on board. I went to turn the key and the prop didn’t move. “Of course,” I thought. Nothing ever goes right when I try to fly someone. Again, I panicked and called everyone I knew. One instructor thought that the plane was just chilly and needed to warm up. Another said that the starter was wearing out. A third one said that the alternator was failing. I was feeling completely defeated and embarrassed. Meanwhile, DJ and my sister were sitting in the plane wondering what was going on, and I’m sure their nerves were creeping up on them as they wondered whether this plane would be safe to fly if we even got it started. I went ahead and tried one more time, and it started effortlessly. We had a fantastic flight to breakfast and DJ got to fly for part of it, much to his delight. To this day, I’m not sure what the problem was, but I was grateful that we got to follow through with the morning’s plans.

These experiences flying, as frustrating as they were at the time, have taught me so much. In the case with Garrick, I really learned the airplane’s capabilities and how to remain calm even when I felt very uneasy. I can imagine if I had said, “Wow, this is really bad turbulence; I hope everything turns out ok,” he might have started to worry. Instead, I concentrated on the task at hand and got us down safely. Flying the two young ladies also showed me how easily I can check on the radios myself if that should ever happen again. It seems like such a small thing, but I could have avoided a lot of frustration and having to inconvenience others by having to come out to the plane and troubleshoot with me. I also learned that I need to brush up on my warm/hot start procedures. These are a couple of those details that you are required to learn before your check ride, and once that’s over, can fall to the wayside. That also relates to my flight with DJ and my sister, which taught me that there are many situations that can occur within the aircraft systems that can affect something as simple as just turning the prop. If I had been more knowledgeable about those factors, I might have been able to think through the problem myself without dragging so many people into the situation and causing my passengers to worry. As CFI extraordinaire and my friend Jason Schappert says, “A good pilot is always learning.” I realized through all of this that studying procedures and aircraft systems is something I really need to stay current on so that I’m always prepared. They make you learn it in your early training for a reason, and it’s no use to you if you don’t read through it every once in a while.

I do hope to continue giving my friends introductory flights and exposing them to what aviation is all about. Faking it until you make it works in some cases, but when you have peoples’ lives in your hands, faking it won’t always cut it. However, I’m determined to brush up on my skills beyond takeoffs, cruise, and landings so that when I do fly with them, I display more confidence in my actions. But most importantly, I need to do this so that I feel that confidence in myself.  

You know what I love just about as much as flying, if not more? PUPPIES! There is no denying that I have a weak spot for animals, especially dogs. Kittens are also acceptable.

Anyway, I have done a lot of thinking about what my goals as a pilot are. In my last post, I provided an extensive To Do list of additional training that I want to complete. But I don’t plan on spending my entire piloting “side-career” training or flying to lunch. I want to do something, and not for myself, but others. I’ve been granted this wonderful gift, and I can’t think of a better way to enjoy it than giving back. 

At AOPA Summit in October, I met the cutest puppy in the whole world at the Pilots N Paws booth. I instantly fell in love. I was just a student pilot back then—about two months away from my checkride. They asked whether I wanted to get involved and I just kind of looked down and said, “…well, I’d love to, but I’m not a pilot yet.” They were extremely encouraging and gave me a brochure to read over and consider.

Last Friday, I unpacked a box of materials from Summit (can you say procrastinator??) and pulled out the brochure. I decided right then that I was going to get involved and begin contributing to this amazing organization. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Pilots N Paws, they are a non-profit organization and maintain a website that serves as a meeting place for those that rescue, shelter, or foster animals, as well as pilots and aircraft owners that can help with the transportation. Many of the animals that are transported in this program have been abused or are at risk for being euthanized, and the pilots carry them to a new location where they can be placed in loving homes. They have a message board where all of the coordinating is done between the volunteers.

I started poking around on the site and then remembered that a coworker, who also owns a Piper Arrow, is a regular contributor on missions. After chatting with him for about ten minutes, I asked him to consider bringing a copilot on his next mission. Coincidentally, he had one scheduled for that Sunday. I told him I was definitely in.

We were slated to transport four puppies (to me, all dogs are puppies, and they will henceforth be referred to as such) to Schenectady, NY. Their day had actually started in Knoxville, TN. Dan and Ann were 4 month old beagle/hound mixes, Clair was a 1 year old Aussie, and Zeus was a 3 month old Catahoula. It would be the third and final leg of the day, so I’m sure the initial excitement had worn off by the time we got them. They were very energetic puppies and didn’t seem too keen on going back in the crate, but we managed to get them in.

We flew a DA-40, so space was limited. I’m working on getting checked out in this plane, so aside from the takeoffs and landings, I stayed on the controls. The flight was beautiful and completely silent for two full hours. All four puppies had fallen asleep.

When we arrived at Schenectady, the shelter volunteers enthusiastically bolted out of the FBO to greet us (ok – they were probably more interested in the puppies). They loved them as much as we did, and I was sad to think about parting with them after sharing this experience. However, I knew that they would be going to good, loving homes. After meeting these sweet puppies, it was unfathomable to even think about their fate had they remained in Knoxville. For instance, I learned that Clair was found in a burlap sack with her puppies. Even still, she is one of the most gentle and sweet animals that I have ever met, and the family that adopts her is going to love her.

I’ve been searching a long time for a volunteer opportunity that is fulfilling and fun at the same time, and I couldn’t think of a better combination of those than flying animals in need. As I gain more experience, I’d like to expand my contributions to include flying wounded warriors or those in medical need. Those organizations require (for good reason) quite a bit more experience and have more stringent requirements. It might motivate me to actually get my commercial pilot certificate, because that will even further enhance my skills and ability to take part in more missions. In the meantime, I’m going to start looking for additional Pilots N Paws missions that are on a smaller scale and possibly more local while I’m getting my feet wet.

And now when people ask who I fly for, I can tell them that I fly for animals in need— an answer that I’m proud of and should still manage to impress them.

About a month ago, my instructor informed me she had a date in mind for my checkride. Then reality set in. I had exactly 3.5 weeks to prepare, and the thought terrified me. I hadn’t yet flown my full 10 hours of solo time that is required, hadn’t had many successful short and soft field takeoffs and landings, nor had I practiced crosswind landings on more than one occasion.

My biggest concern, however, was preparing for my oral exam, which would be a 1-2 hour quizzing session right before my actual flight test. We started with one hour study sessions before work, covering a new set of topics every day. I could get the information to stick for one day, but didn’t feel that I was retaining a whole lot. 

As the checkride date grew closer, we started scheduling flights for every weekday, as well as some weekend work. I was getting tired. Really tired. My friends started noticing that I was always on edge, and I seemed to be completely consumed by the fact that a year’s worth of hard work was going to come down to one day of testing. To make matters worse, I knew it was coming right before Christmas, and I feared that a poor outcome would make for a very depressing holiday season.

My checkride was scheduled for Thursday, December 13^th. The Friday before, I had a practice oral exam, which mainly centered around the DC Special Flight Rules Area (SFRA), the procedures for which I had mostly forgotten. The next day, we did the practice flight. We went out, did some maneuvers, and simulated instrument work and an engine-out. We had to divert to a nearby airport, which I didn’t have the frequency for. When we finally got back on the ground, the instructor evaluating me asked how I thought I had done. I looked him dead in the eye and immediately blurted out, “I hated it. I did terribly. I was uncomfortable. I want to delay my checkride.”

He kind of smiled and after giving me a short debrief, told me I did fine and that I was ready. I didn’t believe him but I figured I had at least a few more days to prep and I just needed to get this thing over with. To make matters worse, I had gotten sick over the previous few days, and seriously considered delaying my checkride on that basis, although that would’ve been a cover for the fact that I just truly didn’t feel ready.

The week of my checkride, my instructor and I studied for the oral exam twice a day and flew each day. I was basically at my wits end and was seriously hoping I was going to enjoy aviation after receiving my pilot certificate. I wasn’t sleeping at night, but even if I managed to fall asleep for five minutes here and there, I was having nightmares about my upcoming tests. My instructor had to constantly remind me that I had been consistently flying within Practical Test Standards.

My checkride was scheduled for 9:30 am, and I wanted to sit down with my instructor beforehand to look over my flight plan. I was supposed to plan a flight to Lancaster, PA (LNS), then to Cumberland, MD (CBE), and back to Frederick. I woke up at 5 am, feeling super tired and groggy, but after a cup of coffee or two and a few words of encouragement from my instructor, we headed out to preflight. The second I got to the plane, a huge sense of relief came over me. We taxied over to the flight school where I was taking my test and I input the flight plan into the GPS.

When I got inside, I saw the examiner, whom I had met the week before. I was really glad I had done that because it made me feel at lot more comfortable. I sat down in her office with my instructor while she went over the maintenance records and my logbook entries to ensure that I was indeed qualified to take the practical test. At one point, I realized I hadn’t gone over the National Transportation Safety Board regulations recently, so I inconspicuously took out my FAR/AIM and breezed over it while the examiner continued looking over the maintenance records. The last step before my instructor left was handing over my $400 in cash. That suddenly made the whole thing seem real.

My instructor got up, wished me good luck, and left the flight school. Before I realized what was going on, we were in the midst of the oral exam. I looked over at her list, which was a full page long of different topics typed in tiny font. I thought, “are you kidding me? This is going to take forever!” We covered spin recovery procedures, ground reference maneuvers (because it was a relatively calm day outside), obstacle clearances, special flight permits, Land and Hold Short Operations, airport signage, weather requirements, and more. I watched her check off item after item and before I knew it, she said, “ok let’s take a break and go flying.” I couldn’t believe it! There was so much more that I had fretted over and drilled into my head that we didn’t even cover! I suppose it’s like that for everyone, though. You never know which mix of questions you’re going to get asked, so you need to be prepared for everything.

What made the test the most comfortable was how my examiner would mention a topic and ask me what I could tell her about it. Then, she would ask me questions based on what I said. I never had to recite regulations perfectly verbatim. She wanted to make sure I understood the rules, and if I was unsure about something, tell her where I could find it. She also could tell when I didn’t understand a question and had no problem clarifying what she was really asking. Half of the test down—half to go.

I went out to preflight again and also called flight service to get an updated weather briefing. I knew that I wouldn’t end up needing the weather information for LNS or CBE, but I wanted to be prepared in case she asked me. She got in and got settled while I finished preflighting.

I finally hopped inside, put my seatbelt on, and closed to door, only to see that I had left the GATS jar on top of the cowling. Good move, Kristen. I retrieved it, started the plane up, and listened to the ATIS. “…arriving and departing runway 5.” Runway 5?? I hadn’t used that runway in months! I could barely remember which taxiways would get me there. The winds were only at three knots, so I had fully anticipated using my trusty runway 23. Runway 5 has a right traffic pattern, and it’s always been harder for me to maintain a tight pattern using right traffic. Oh, well…onward and upward.

We simulated a short field takeoff and had just barely made it to my first checkpoint when she said, “Ok, my airplane. You can put your hood on now.” After a little bit of simulated instrument work, we went over the other maneuvers I anticipated: slow flight, compass turns, an emergency descent, and power off and power on stalls. My left steep turn was unimpressive from my perspective, and my right one was perfect. That was, by the way, the opposite of what has happened while practicing those on any previous flight. I asked her if she wanted me to do the left one again, but she said it was fine.

She asked me to divert us to Hagerstown (HGR), to which I told her that we could not do that, because it would take us through Prohibited Area 40 (aka Camp David). I was ready to get a diversion for which I had to calculate a new time en route and fuel burn, but I didn’t end up having to. She then asked me to turn 180 degrees to Carroll County Airport (DMW). All I could think was, “Thank goodness my mock checkride instructor had me divert there.” Fortunately, I had already printed out the Airport/Facility Directory entry for DMW, so I entered the frequency and announced my position when entering the pattern. As soon as we were downwind, she pulled my engine, and I went over my engine-out procedures. We made one landing, which she said was soft enough to count as a soft field landing. We took off again and she told me to head back to Frederick. On the way back, she asked me to show her a forward slip. Piece of cake.

At one point, she offered me a mint. Was this a trick to distract me? I wasn’t sure but I really wanted the mint, and I somehow managed to unwrap the mint with one hand on the control wheel and maintained my altitude and heading.

We got back to the airport, I showed her a short field landing, and the tower instructed us to taxi back to the ramp. I turned to her and asked if I was supposed to comply or if she wanted me to taxi back to perform any more takeoffs or landings. She told me that taxiing back to the ramp would be fine. I suddenly realized that this whole ordeal was about to be over, as long as I didn’t screw up taxiing back to the ramp and parking.

I finally shut the plane down and after about two seconds went by (that felt like 20 seconds), she turned to me with her hand extended and said, “Congratulations.” That was it. I was done. I had just become a pilot! The sense of relief I felt was astonishing. Tears were welling up in my eyes. She told me she would head back inside and start the paperwork while I finished securing the plane. I hopped out and heard a familiar voice; one of my coworkers was also out on the ramp. He captured this picture right after my checkride.

My instructor came to meet me at the flight school and we sat together with the examiner while she printed out my temporary pilot certificate. They made small talk while I sat in a daze, unable to comprehend what had happened over the past few hours. When my instructor and I got out to the plane, she asked me if I wanted to taxi us back to the AOPA ramp. “Nope,” I replied. Although, I did end up taxiing us back over once I got in the pilot’s seat and my instincts kicked in.

The rest of the day was a blur of congratulatory remarks and trying to catch up on work I had been putting off while I was in the heat of my flight training. Since then, I’ve been asked about 50 times when I’m going to start on my instrument rating. Instrument training is definitely on my To Do list, but I’m looking forward to taking a breather and just enjoying being a private pilot for a little bit. I was recently asked if I plan on flying with an instructor any time soon. While it is really nice to know that I don’t have to deal with scheduling and always flying with someone whose job is to constantly critique me, I have a couple things that I really want to practice more. One of them is flying at night. I met my requirements for night training, but I never soloed at night, so I don’t feel that I am quite up to par. I also want to practice flying near max capacity, so that when I take friends flying, I’ll have a better feel for the performance of the plane with extra weight.

The biggest thing I want to focus on right now is finding a balance in my life again between work, flying, and my personal life. I am the type of person that puts everything on hold when I’m working toward something, and I became completely consumed with training. Did I need to do that? No. But I knew that the checkride was a momentous occasion when one person would decide my competency to pilot an aircraft whenever I wanted, not when my instructor was endorsing me to solo somewhere. And I realized it’s not just about someone saying “yes” or “no,” it’s about knowing that in case of an emergency, you know how to handle yourself and the aircraft. There will be no more instructors there to bail me out if something goes wrong, or answer my questions if I’m unsure of something. But finally having my pilot certificate has actually motivated me to learn more about my airplane, rather than focusing on performing maneuvers that I may never have to perform again.

If there’s any advice that I can give to future pilots, it would be to CALM DOWN during the time leading up to your checkride. The intensity of your flight training during that time is only to over-prepare you for the actual thing. People keep asking me whether the test was hard or stressful, and I haven’t been able to say it was that difficult. That has nothing to do with my examiner being easy on me; it has everything to do with awesome instructors wanting me to make sure I knew what I needed to know, not just enough to pass a test.

I’m not really sure where I’m going to go from here, yet, but I’m super pumped to share my new adventures with all of you. Standby! -Kristen

My solo cross country has been a long time coming. Before I went to AirVenture, I was getting super close, but weather delays kept me from ever reaching my intended destinations on my practice cross countries. After AirVenture, as some of you know, I was feverishly studying for my FAA knowledge test. Getting back to flying after being out of the loop for almost two months was rough. The plane felt so foreign to me. I was scared that I had lost my touch. However, a few cross countries later, I was feeling secure being back in the saddle.

We scheduled my cross country for a Saturday so I could have the plane reserved for enough time. The destination—Front Royal, VA (KFRR). I had been there once before for one of my first cross countries, so the flight planning was fairly easy. I had great checkpoints, like a river, intersecting highways, a casino/racing facility, etc. By printing out the Airport/Facility Directory entry for KFRR, I was reminded that there are extensive glider operations there. When I laid my plotter down on my sectional, I was shocked to see how close going direct to KFRR would take me to the outer shelf of the Bravo airspace. To be safe, I adjusted my route to take me slightly more west, over Winchester (KOKV). This would not only keep me safely out of the Bravo, but it would provide another great checkpoint along my route.

My instructor sat in the plane with me while I entered my flight plan into the GPS. Then, she hopped out and sent me on my way. I can’t help but sense I had a slight “confident edge” in my voice as I talked to the tower and requested a departure to the southwest. After all, I was moving beyond being babysat while going solo around the pattern. This time, I felt like a real pilot. I had a few “it’s too late to turn back now” thoughts as I climbed out, but after I got myself safely to my 6,500 foot top of climb, it was smooth sailing. I did start to notice a bit more of a solid layer of clouds just above me, so I listened to Winchester’s weather. They were reporting a scattered layer at 7,000 feet. That explained a lot. I knew I needed to stay at least 500 feet below the clouds to be legally flying VFR, so I made sure to maintain my altitude. After completing my cruise checklist, I settled in and did a constant scan of my flight instruments in between looking outside for traffic.

I can honestly say that I felt more calm and in control on that flight than on any flight. I was so perfectly trimmed and set on my heading that I only had to keep one finger on the control wheel. At that point I began to think, “Ok, what am I missing. If my instructor were here, what would she be nagging (just kidding—‘gently reminding’) me about.”

In anticipation of the glider operations at Front Royal, I listened in on their traffic frequency so I could be sure I had them in sight as I flew over the airport. My landing left a little to be desired, but I figured, “hey, no one knows me here.” I had blown past final a little bit, so I was not as properly set up as I should have been. Also, I was a little nervous and didn’t want to risk that I would interfere with the gliders if I went around again.

As I taxied past other pilots at the airport, they all waved to me. I had such a feeling of pride knowing that I had arrived there by myself, and they had no idea that I was just a student pilot on my first solo cross country. As far as they knew, I was just a regular pilot (who might need a little more landing practice!).

My flight back to Frederick was about as eventful as my flight out to Front Royal. I was relieved to be coming back to my home turf, and felt very comfortable entering the traffic pattern. Needless to say, my landing was much improved. My instructor was waiting for me as I pulled up to the hangar with a big smile on her face.

My next feat is my long cross country. I’m planning on recreating my first-ever cross country out to Georgetown, DE to visit with my parents and have lunch at the airport. I’m looking forward to arriving and telling the FBO that I’ll just be stopping for lunch. When I step out of the plane, the boosted ego part of my brain will probably be thinking, “I bet the people watching are really impressed that a young woman pilot just flew down here for lunch.” Although, for that to happen, I’d better make sure I grease my landing.

The road that led to today’s events went something like this: a couple days before I left for Oshkosh, Wis. to attend AirVenture, my flight instructor called me and said that based on the progress I was making with my training, I was going to need to stop dragging my feet and finally take my private pilot knowledge test. After all, I had taken ground school in early May, and it was now the end of July. “Well,” I told her, “I’m about to leave for Oshkosh, and after that I will have a lot of work to get caught up on, and then I’ll need a few weeks to study, so how about late August?” To that she replied, “How about August 15^th?” I kind of chuckled a bit, but I agreed to take the test sometime around then. When I got back from Oshkosh, I had forgotten about the deal I made, but she made sure to remind me.

Every single person who has ever told me about this test has said the same thing: memorize the questions and you’ll be fine. I started that night. It was Friday, August 3^rd. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent a Friday night studying. I’m not even sure I did that in college. But there I was, taking my first practice test since ground school. My first week of practice tests was consistently in the 70s, which grew to be very frustrating. Finally someone asked me if I had been going through the Gleim book, because all of the explanations and questions were in there. I read through it the next week, and my grades improved! I was now getting consistently in the 80s, which was definitely encouraging. My flight instructor asked me to go ahead and schedule my test by August 15^th, even if I hadn’t gotten my logbook endorsement from my ground school instructor. I was hesitant to do so, but we had agreed on a date, and I was trying my best to stay in the ballpark. By the end of that week, I got my endorsement. 

At that point, there were only two things left to do: finish going through the Gleim book and PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE. Beginning August 20^th (4 days until the test), I hunkered down and took at least three practice tests a day. Additionally, I used the Sporty’s course to choose individual topics that I knew I needed help on. I would say that the regulations were the most difficult part to memorize. I also needed a lot of help understanding how to answer the VOR and ADF questions, which my instructor helped with. I was already starting the feel the impact of how much I was studying. I was starting to make careless mistakes on my practice tests and I was growing increasingly irritable and mentally drained.

The night before the big day, my instructor told me not to study any more. Much to my discomfort, I followed through with her advice. I spent the entire night before the test lying on the couch watching Glee reruns on Netflix. And you know what? Those few hours of getting my mind off of the test and getting lost in the musical stylings of the show greatly improved my outlook.

 The next morning, I was feeling nervous, as per usual before I take a test. To get myself back in the game, I went through a few practice questions. I purposely scheduled my test for 12 pm, because I knew I would need some time in the morning to wake up and compose myself.

The test itself was actually very easy. Miraculously, many of the questions I had reviewed in the morning ended up being on the test. I took my time with every question, so I didn’t feel the need to go back and review my answers. I knew that by doing so, I would risk second guessing myself.

When the proctor came back in, she said that I could review the questions I had missed. I was delighted to see that there were only three. However, I declined to review the questions. I knew that facing those questions would mean agonizing over them the rest of the day, when I needed to be excited and proud of my achievement.

So what did I learn from this experience?

1. I should have started studying sooner. My advice would be that if your instructor or flight school have certain expectations of when you should take your test, make yourself aware of them and plan out your study time in a more balanced and reasonable time period.
2. You really do have to learn the questions. Because I crammed my studying into a 2-3 week time period, I was getting discouraged and frustrated by cycling through the questions, but it was entirely necessary. Try to find a study source that explains why you get an answer right or wrong.
3. Choose a few areas where you are really weak and focus on them. The regulations are a big part of the test, so I knew it could cost me a few points if I didn’t know the weather minimums in airspace or how long you can exercise the privileges of having a private pilot certificate if you haven’t changed your address with the FAA Airmen Certification Branch. If you aren’t great with calculating time en route, go over those questions with your instructor step by step. You will start to notice a pattern after a while of what you’re not consistently getting correct.
4. Watch Glee the night before. Just kidding, you can do whatever you want, but I definitely wouldn’t recommend studying. If you don’t know the majority of the material by the night before, agonizing over it and preventing yourself from getting a good night’s sleep isn’t going to help.

While it feels super good to be done with this exam, I know that next week I get back to flight training and trying to fulfill the rest of my training requirements to become a private pilot. Until then, I’m going to enjoy the weekend in a way that doesn’t involve an E6B flight computer, a plotter, or having to figure out the total distance required to land over a 50-foot obstacle with a pressure altitude of 5,000 feet, a headwind of 8 knots, and a temperature of 41 degrees Fahrenheit on a hard surfaced runway. By the way, it’s 956 feet.

Somewhat disappointedly, we got off to a slow start. The weather at both the departure and arrival airports (KFDK and KGED) was less than ideal, with low ceilings and fog. We had to wait over an hour past our planned departure time for it to clear up. I knew what the VFR requirements were and when we got close to them, I started getting really anxious for the ceiling to rise just 100 more feet or the visibility to improve by a half mile. My boyfriend told me I was displaying symptoms of “Get-there-itis,” a potentially dangerous illness of those who would sacrifice safety just to get up in the air. Had I not been preparing to fly to the beach that day, I probably would’ve been a little more patient. Nonetheless, the weather cleared up to an acceptable level and we were able to depart.

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. We did end up having to track off our intended course to find an air traffic controller who wasn’t too busy to talk to us, but in the end, that only ended up costing us about 15 minutes. Along the way, I spent most of the time taking in the beautiful scenery. One of my favorite activities became looking for fields that we could land on if we encountered an engine failure. That kept me pretty entertained until one point when I realized there were no fields below us—only water. Having never flown over water before, it was an incredibly thrilling and nerve-wracking experience. Regardless, I knew it wouldn’t last long, but it gave me a small taste of what some of the great aviators in history experienced as they flew across the oceans in small planes.

As we neared the airport, we called the local traffic and asked if anyone was in the pattern. We didn’t see or hear anyone, so we figured the pattern was empty and we were A-OK to land. That is until we reached the ground. An employee at the FBO came by to politely inform us that we had neglected to announce our arrival over the radio. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when we taxied to our parking spot that we realized we had entered the wrong frequency. Lesson learned!

The flight back was a breeze. No weather hazards, very little traffic, and I got to watch all of the beach traffic sitting on the highway below me as I cruised over them. It was so serene that I even got my first taste of simulated instrument flying!

Post-solo, my flights are now more like adventures than standard lessons. There is more to getting from point A to point B than I ever thought possible and I can see how even seasoned pilots say they never stop learning. Flight planning can seem very tedious at times and possibly unnecessary, but the more I practice, the easier it becomes. I just have to keep reminding myself that flying is a unique opportunity most people don’t have. You know how I love my quotes, so as Voltaire (not Spider-Man’s uncle) first said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Regardless of how fun it can be, I know that flying is serious and the regulations cannot be taken lightly; which is why I’m going to make sure that I become the safest, most thorough pilot that I can be, even if it means packing a couple less pairs of shoes.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s go back to the beginning. It actually was a day like any other day. It was a Tuesday. On the previous Friday, I had gone flying with one of AOPA’s staff pilots so he could give the “OK” that I was fit to fly solo, and that it was now up to my instructor when that would be. She was really excited when he told her that it went well. She said, “We just need a few days of good weather.” I scheduled three flights for the following week, expecting that on the third day of good weather, I would be signed off to solo. Monday came bringing major IFR conditions with it. I felt my chance of soloing that week come and gone.

When Tuesday rolled around, the weather had cleared up, though there were some towering cumulus clouds off in the distance. We did a few takeoffs and landings until my instructor said that we’d taxi back to the ramp. I figured she must have had a meeting she needed to get to because our lesson wasn’t supposed to be over for another 30 minutes. On our way back, she asked me if I had my logbook with me. Of course I didn’t; I was still under the impression that we needed “a few days of good weather.” She just laughed and admitted to getting me focused on the weather to throw me off so I wouldn’t get nervous anticipating my solo day.

We went inside, where she signed my logbook and grabbed a handheld radio to talk to me if I really needed her advice while up in the air. She waited by a hangar while I taxied out and completed my run-up. Then I called the Frederick tower (commissioned May 1^st) and called out “Frederick Tower, Skyhawk 163 Mike Echo, ready at Two-Three, Requesting closed traffic, Full stop, FIRST SOLO.”

There are a few things I specifically remember about the actual soloing part, but a lot of it was an exhilarating blur. I remember flying way too far out on my first crosswind, so I had to fly at a pretty sharp angle to get back toward the runway to parallel it for my downwind. No big deal. I remember talking to myself as if my instructor were in the plane. It not only calmed me down, but helped me maintain my routine I had grown so accustomed to. The first landing was the best one. The controller congratulated me on a job well done. That gave me a nice confidence boost to keep going. The second run around the pattern felt like I was smack dab in the middle of a marathon and needed to get over that hurdle so that I could get to the finish line. Finally, I remember crossing the runway threshold on the third landing thinking, “Okay, I’ve come this far. I’m pretty sure I can make it this last couple hundred feet.”

As soon as I landed, I couldn’t wait to get back to my instructor and tell her all about it. She didn’t have binoculars, so she didn’t really see any of the (minor) bounces on my landings that I had felt. I put on my solo t-shirt that had been sent to me through AOPA’s MyFlightTraining website [Disclaimer: I was not paid to plug this website, but it is an awesome site!] and she cut the shirt tail.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of accomplishment that I still feel, even two weeks later. I’m pretty sure I had a smile on my face nonstop for the first few days that followed. Learning my landing was the hardest part of my training thus far. I can only attribute it to drill after drill of landings, no matter how tiring that became. The final product was a combination of different advice from a few different people. What has stuck with me the most was when my instructor told me to start my level-off when the runway starts to look wide. Then, she did a great example of how my flare pitch should appear and feel by speeding down the runway with the nose in the air. I’ve learned how getting properly set up in the pattern, especially during my base to final transition, will yield a smooth and consistent landing. Even being too fast or not perfectly parallel to the runway on my downwind can have a major impact on how well I’m set up on final.

Though I feel very proud to have reached this milestone, I am fully aware of how much training I still have ahead of me. I’ve been told that soloing marks the halfway point of the road to getting your certificate. While the thought of that sounds exhausting, I am extremely excited and anxious to take on new challenges now. If I thought landing at my home airport was hard, now I’ll need to learn to do it in the dark and at totally new airports with different runway configurations. I’ll need to spend hours planning cross countries and flying “under the hood” just looking at my instruments. I’ll also need to do more flying in less than ideal conditions, like taking off and landing with a strong crosswind. I guess flying on “a day like any other day” will be fewer and farther between for a while, but I can honestly say that the variety sounds like a breath of fresh air.

Then my workload seemed to almost double overnight with a flurry of activities, as AOPA geared up for Sun ’n Fun. There were editorials to write, supplies to organize, and lots of other coordinating involved in getting us prepared for the trip. A couple times, much to my dismay, I had to make a last minute call to my instructor and admit that I was too tied down with tasks to carve out some time to fly. I hated doing this because part of me felt guilty for possibly not managing my time well, but another part of me knew that my work had to come first and being able to fly on the side was more of an extracurricular. Despite my hesitancy to cancel the lessons and much to my surprise, my instructor lauded me for making the right decision in regards to our safety and the productivity of the flight.

Finally, by the last work week before I was to leave for Sun ’n Fun, I woke up with a sore throat that only got worse (along with other fun cold-like symptoms). I hadn’t gotten sick in almost a year and a half, so I tried to brush it off as allergies and was concerned that canceling any more flights would halt my swift progress. I almost considered still flying (what harm could a sore throat do to my flying ability?) when a colleague mentioned the "I’M SAFE" checklist:

Illness, Medication, Stress, Alcohol, Fatigue, Eating/Emotion

I hadn’t realized how many important factors went into assessing whether someone is fit to fly—or not! Some of them are obvious (medication, alcohol), but I hadn’t considered the impact the others could have on your decision-making ability, and yet, the decisions I had been making to cancel other flights were completely justified by this checklist. Sun ’n Fun came and went (and was one of the most memorable weeks of my life!). By the time we all returned, I learned that my flight instructor was sick, and her medication was not on the FAA’s approved list. Almost three weeks went by without my touching an airplane.

When we did finally go back up, it was rough. Most of the procedures that had come so naturally to me before were replaced with “ummmmm” and “I think I’m supposed to…” and I felt like a failure. After all, I had become fairly close to soloing right before Sun ’n Fun. Despite my frustrations, my instructor kept reminding me that we had some rust to brush off and I would be up to speed in no time.

I think I’m finally “there” again. The break had allowed me to recharge, and after some studying and chair flying, the procedures all came back. Even with almost 25 hours logged, I’m still working on finding out “my way” to land. That’s my last hurdle. I’ve perfected my takeoff roll, most of my basic maneuvers, and can fly a pretty tight pattern. And while I feel extremely confident in my ability to takeoff, soar off into the distance, swing back around, and fly a rectangle around the runway, eventually, I will have to come back down. Hopefully the next time you here from me I’ll have figured that part out.

We flew at sunset, and all of those inspirational quotes about flying came rushing to me as I took in the beautiful scenery around us. You know the ones I’m talking about:

“For once you have tasted flight, you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return. – Leonardo da Vinci

“The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious.  And why shouldn't it be? - it is the same the angels breathe.” – Mark Twain

“Kristen can trip over air.” – My mother

Oh wait, that last one’s not about flying. But it’s a pretty good descriptor of how I operate on the ground. If there’s something to bump into, I’ll find it. But after my first flight lesson, my instructor said “You did a really good job. You were very coordinated.” Me? Coordinated? I’ll take it! And guess what? When you’re in the air, there are a lot fewer things to bump into!

That freedom has got to be what so many pilots love about flying. It’s just you and the air around you (and in my case, an instructor). There are no annoying bicyclists in the driving lane when there is clearly a designated bike lane, no people causing you to slam on your brakes because they are jaywalking in dark clothes at night, no texting or cell phone use of any kind. I’m finding many aspects of flying to be quite calming. I’ve gotten the hang of my pre-flight inspection, which at first seemed like a major chore. Now, I look at it as a necessary way for me to get up close and personal with this machine that I’m trusting to hold me in the air.

My lessons have progressed quickly over the past few weeks. During my second lesson (and every lesson thereafter) we’ve practiced what I’d refer to as a new form of tripping over air—stalls. They’re less painful than bumping into a table corner, but quite a bit more alarming. My instructor performed the first stall (power-off, meaning we are operating at minimal power). This felt much like the first few seconds on a roller coaster after you’ve climbed up a couple hundred feet and begin to roll down the other side.

When it came time to perform my own, it was a weird sensation to purposely pitch the nose so high, all the while being warned by an obnoxious noise that the airplane is not happy about this maneuver.

Unlike when my instructor demonstrated the stall, my stall felt more like riding the elevator in the Tower of Terror at Disney. When the stall broke, we immediately pitched downward and all I could see was the ground. Why? Because I let go of the control yoke! I had learned through my ground lessons that the plane would recover itself after gaining some speed, but it was still a little unnerving. My instructor explained how to gradually release the back pressure that I had held to initiate the stall, and our “breaks” have been a bit less jerky every time.

Our next big maneuver will be power-on stalls (where we are using full power and pitching much higher). I have a feeling that I’ll get that same unnerving feeling again, but in time, will grow used to it. Orson Welles said, “There are only two emotions in a plane: boredom and terror.” At the rate my lessons have been going, I think it will be a long time before I ever feel bored flying an airplane.

Our first step was to defrost the plane, which had developed a thin coating on every surface. The nozzle on our glycol tank was broken, so my coworker ended up pouring the glycol onto the wings and tail and we used cloths to spread it along the leading edges and as many surfaces as we could. Unglamorous as it sounds, I knew how important this was to do, especially with my aviation weather background (although at school in Florida, frost was not a common issue). As my coworker described it, the plane looked like an orange slushy, but she deemed it safe to fly and we began the pre-flight inspection. She showed me her process, which involves starting at one wing, checking the fuel, and making her way toward the propeller, other wing, tail, and back to where we started. Everything looked good and I hopped into the left seat, while she climbed into the right.

She asked whether I would like to treat this as a lesson, and I enthusiastically agreed. I read each item off the checklist…and there were a lot! It seemed like I was flipping a hundred switches that were scarcely labeled. How was I going to remember all of this? I knew it was a silly thought, because eventually, I’d do this with ease. Finally, we started the engine and we taxied off the ramp, where she let me take over. I already knew that the steering took place with your feet, but it was hard to fight the urge to put my hands on the yoke as if I were in a car.

When it came time to take off, she showed me how to increase the power to reach the right speed before having me pull back on the yoke to start climbing. I warned her beforehand that I rarely had a successful take-off when I played Flight Simulator with my friends from college. However, this time, we took off without a hitch and eventually reached 2,500 ft. We leveled off and she told me what our heading would be. It was most helpful when she pointed out a cement plant that would be my point of reference for the trip. I learned that having a point of reference is really beneficial for Visual Flight Rules (VFR) flying, so that you can keep your attention on the outside of the plane, rather than on the instruments; not to mention the fact that there are A LOT of instruments to keep track of at one time!

We checked the visibility for York Airport, which was reporting 3 miles. This wasn’t terrible, especially since our flight visibility was much more than that with just some low level haze. My coworker took the controls once we got close to the airport, which was tricky to find amidst the hills and patches of trees. She yielded to another plane in the vicinity before landing and taxiing over to the restaurant. We parked the plane right outside – awesome! The food was great and you certainly get your money’s worth. I think they figure that if you spent a lot of money to fly there, they should have reasonable prices. After breakfast, we walked around the plane again just to be sure nothing ran into it while we were eating.

My coworker had the flight controls for the majority of the ride home, which allowed me to enjoy the scenery. Once we were safely on the ground, she taxied the plane over to the hangars, where it was going to get a good detailing. When we got back inside, she presented me with a log book and I logged my first flight! I was so proud of my 1.7 hours that I called my parents after work and told them what I had accomplished. I’m looking forward to filling up the book, discovering new places, and having new adventures throughout my training and beyond.