After three months of training, on May 2, 2013, I made my first solo flight. A solo flight is like a second birthday. Experienced pilots say that this day is unforgettable, even after decades. You can ask any pilot when their first solo flight was, and they should be able to answer immediately. If they can’t, they’re not a real pilot! I will certainly never forget my first solo flight.
It was a sunny, quiet morning. As usual, I completed all the pre-flight preparations, the instructor filled out the necessary paperwork, and we taxied to the runway together. After performing a couple of landings with me and ensuring that I was in good shape and hadn’t forgotten the go-around technique, Cecil asked me to drop him off in a special zone where instructors nervously pace in circles while observing their students’ first solo flights. He reminded me to go around anytime I wasn’t ready for the landing.
By the way, a go-around is not considered something awful; in fact, pilots in America are taught to plan for a go-around unless the approach is perfect for landing. Conversely, in Russia, the focus was on planning for landing unless something was really off. In my opinion, this subtle difference can subconsciously affect a pilot’s decision in a critical moment.
And there it was, the thrilling moment when Cecil left the airplane cabin. His headset was still connected to the aircraft, so I could still hear him. He wished me good luck one last time and then disconnected from the intercom system. I was left in the cabin in complete silence, utterly alone, with no one to back me up. Now, I could only rely on myself.
I received clearance for takeoff from the tower, and pushed the engine to full throttle. My heart was pounding so hard like it was about to take off too :) Without the instructor, the airplane felt unusually light, so it accelerated very fast and lifted off the ground almost immediately. All that was left was to say, like the first cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin: “Poyekhali!”. (“Let’s go!”)
Taking off is much easier than landing. But there’s no turning back now — landing is the only way to get back to earth. In aviation, you can’t just pull over to the side of the road with your hazard lights on. After lifting off, everything started happening very quickly, leaving no time for fear. I automatically executed all the turns and soon found myself on final approach. In my head, I heard the instructor’s voice and his commands — “Airspeed should be what?”, “Power should be what?” All of this had been deeply ingrained in my subconscious during our training. And there I was, over the runway, beginning to flare. The plane touched down on the main gear, bounced slightly, then confidently settled onto the ground and ran along the runway. I retracted the flaps, applied the brakes, and cleared the runway. My first solo landing was complete!
During this solo flight, I had to make three consecutive landings. The point of the first solo flight is to reinforce confidence in your skills. If you make only one landing, it may seem as a random luck :)
Before the flight, we agreed that if everything was fine, the instructor would raise his hands. Seeing his signal, I knew it was okay and returned to the runway. The second and third landings were a bit rougher, but still within acceptable limits. From that moment on, I attained the status of a student pilot and was allowed to perform solo training flights. I was absolutely elated and continued to “fly” on cloud nine for the rest of the day!
The flight school has something like a “Hall of Fame” where they highlight students’ achievements. For instance, as soon as I completed my first solo flight, my photo appeared in the “First Solo” section. You can see who has obtained a private pilot’s license, an instrument rating, a commercial license, or even become an instructor. Not only is it very gratifying, but seeing the success of others also inspires you to push further.
The next day, we flew to a nearby airport— Saint Martin, which is a 20-minute flight southeast of our Reid-Hillview. This airfield isn’t equipped with a control tower, so all pilots announce their actions on the radio according to specific rules. There I dropped off my instructor again and performed a series of solo landings to ensure I could land at other airfields as well.
Interestingly, Saint Martin has a lot of ground squirrels that live in burrows around the airfield. I had never seen such squirrels in Russia. It seems that these squirrels, perhaps due to their comfortable lifestyle are desperately lacking adrenaline, so they’ve invented an extreme game — dashing across the runway in front of taking-off airplanes. When no one is flying, you don’t see them at all, but as soon as training flights begin, they’re all right there. They appear literally out of nowhere, line up on both sides of the runway, and wait. As soon as a plane starts its takeoff roll, they dash right under the wheels and rush to the other side of the runway. The first time this happened, I panicked and hit the brakes immediately, but Cecil told me to ignore them. He said that the squirrels do this for fun, everyone knows about their extreme games, and so far, no squirrel has been hurt :)
The story continues in Part 5 — Cross-Country Flights
All Links:
Part 1 — Russian Origins
Part 2 — New Page in America
Part 3 — First Flights with the Instructor
Part 4 — First Solo Flight
Part 5 — Cross-Country Flights
Part 6 — Night Flight
Part 7–100% on Written Exam
Part 8 — Checkride and I am a pilot!
