Day 9 - Back In The Saddle

It kinda sounded like a riding lawn mower, only faster. A really really mad Murray. Basically just a loud groaning noise, with a hint of mechanical rhythm to it. The tachometer needles for each engine came to a rest on 2000 rpm and I paused momentarily from advancing the throttle levers, allowing the engine readings to stabilize. There was still plenty of power left. We'd get to the rest of it in a second.
"Four green left and right," I announced, indicating that all critical a engine instruments were producing acceptable readings. I felt so different from yesterday. Somewhat more confident, even maybe a little excited. I had a better outlook today. On the trip down the taxiway, I had time to think. What's wrong with me? In the grand scheme of things, an airplane is an airplane is an airplane. Sure there's a learning curve, but I maybe can do this. Just fly the thing. It seemed like sound logic, but everything is relative. The thing still had wings, but it moved a lot faster, was a lot heavier, and had a lot more going on. More that could kill me. But I shouldn't be scared of it. Respect it? Yes. Fear it? No. I figured that I had a 50/50 shot; I'd either succeed or I wouldn't. But there was only one way to find out. I allowed one corner of my mouth to turn upward in a half smirk, half smile. Let's do it.
I relaxed my feet, releasing the toe brakes that held the two Lycomings at bay. Simultaneously, my right hand advanced the throttle levers all the way to the stop. The engines roared, exponentially louder than before, and the airplane lunged forward. Here we go.
"Airspeed alive."
The airplane bumped and shuddered as it thundered down the runway, and acceleration pressed me firmly against my seat.
"Watch your centerline," was the call from the right seat. "Good." My feet made constant corrections in order to keep it straight, the nose of the airplane chasing the white painted stripes that now passed underneath us with ever increasing fury. Holy crap this thing's fast. Well, at least compared to what I'm used to it's fast. I glanced down at the panel in front of me every so often, watching the airspeed needle climb until finally I eased back on the yoke. And it's heavy, too. The nose pitched up, and we were gone. An angry T-tailed bumble bee was headed for the sky.
"Positive rate, gear up."
A slight thud followed mechanical clanking and whirring noises. That meant that the landing gear had been retracted, and the three green indicator lights disappeared. The airplane rocked a bit as we passed through a few bumpy spots, and I gradually moved the yoke to initiate a turn northbound. I looked down at the ground, now passing under my left window. Heh. I'm flying this thing.
And not only did I fly it, but I landed it. Three times even. Today's flight did wonders for my confidence. While not fully repaired, it has at least been bandaged. I was able to successfully fly the airplane to a landing on three separate occassions, and that helped tremendously. I still have a LOOOONG way to go, but that solid THUMP of the main gear touching the asphalt was the most gratifying feeling I could have asked for. It really felt great.

The view from my seat

Following what I considered to be a successful flight, I did some more sim work. My maneuvers still need lots of help before checkride time, but it's getting better. For various reasons, we were able to knock off early. I went back to my penthouse to do a little studying. I still have the place all to myself. That, combined with the geographic situation, makes it very quiet and isolated here. As previously stated, I live inside the confines of the airport fence. When the sun goes down, I'm the only human for at least a half mile in all directions; much more than that in some directions. And it's amazing just how far your mind will wander when you're lonely. I began to worry again about the future. Even though I'm gaining confidence in myself and my flying, I began to wonder what will happen to me even if I do survive this course. Bleak job prospects. Fears of failure. Fears of being alone. Gaining more flight time. Subsisting until the airlines do start hiring again. Did I make the right choice? Should I do something else? Will I be happy flying airplanes for the rest of my life? Will I ever even make it that point? There are so many unknown variables, and so many things that I thought about in that short span of time. It's truly an emotional rollercoaster. A reality check follows every single moment of levity that I have here.

I turned to the only friend I have with me here after hours (besides El Diablo); my laptop/DVD player. I watched Cast Away. It's truly a wonderful movie, and you should watch it if you have not already. In addition to a great theme and plot, it has several scenes of FedEx aviation in action, and that definitely cheered me up. But there's one particular scene in the movie that I wanted to see. I knew the line by heart, but I wanted to hear it anyway. It sorta sums up a great resolve towards all the doubts I'm having about myself, my career choice, and my future. I don't know what the answer to any of those questions is, at this point. I have no clue. But I think Tom Hanks said it best:

"And I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?"

Amen, Tom. Amen.

Joey