YYZ-YYT-YHM

What could be better than a weekend spent in the air? 

I kicked off my weekend with a flying lesson.  It was a bumpy and windy Saturday afternoon, and landing in a crosswind is difficult.  But My Instructor and I flew over to Carp for some practice in uncontrolled circuits, which was quite enjoyable, except for the part where I did a terrible job of an overshoot.  I should have seen it coming when My Instructor put my flaps all the way down, but I didn't.  I know the steps, I memorized them ages ago, but somehow they dropped out of my head.  Oops?  My thought process was as follows:

• What do you mean "someone's on the runway", no one is on the runway, I'd be able to see them...
• Oooh, it's a training exercise.  I get it.
• But I want to land, I need the practice!
• Oh sh*t, I have to do an overshoot
• Wait, how does that go again?
• *%$#^@!!!!!

 Next time I will just have to do better.  My next lesson has to be with a Supervisor Instructor again.  I want to see if I can go with the man who taught My Instructor - he has another job, and is leaving at the end of the week, so I would really love the chance to fly with him.

Still no real progress on that landing, but I've had lots of words of encouragement, and I'm going to try and do as My Instructor suggested and just focus on everything else, because my much-desired graceful landing will come eventually.

Following my lesson I hopped on a plane to deadhead to YYZ.  It was interesting to fly back over the Carp aerodrome again, this time from a much greater altitude in a B737.  At that point I got the idea to have a go at attempting to navigate with my map, which was still in my bag.  And yes, I am a huge geek.  But it was fun and a  bit challenging to try and match the lakes on the ground to the ones on the map and track our route.

We landed in YYZ, and I was delighted when we pulled into a gate right next to not one but two Boeing 747s!  One was KLM, and the other was Air France.  Unfortunately, the angle of the terminal made it impossible for me to get a good shot once I had deplaned.

Didn't stop me from trying though...
I sat myself outside the gate for my next flight and stared out of the window, hoping for one of them to taxi past.  It didn't look hopeful, but just as I was about to step onto the bridge and board my next flight, there went Air France in all its gorgeousness!

The flight from YYZ to YYT was relatively uneventful.  I spent most of the time studying for my PSTAR.  The girl in front of me was a royal pain, and kept putting her seat up and down and up and down, and not gently either, all the while I've got my books and papers and things on my tray table.  She kept knocking my AIM onto the floor, which I would then struggle to pick up with no space because her chair was all the way back.  I wanted desperately to punch her in the back of the head.  Eventually I burst out with a frustrated "OH MY GOD make your mind up!" which earned me a dirty look from her mother, but she finally decided on her seat all the way back.  Sigh.  We got into St John's at Stupid AM and crashed at the hotel.  St John's is my favourite place to stay when on a pairing, because they put us up in a gorgeous hotel which has the most comfortable beds I've ever slept in.

I had all these grand plans for getting up early and going to the gym and hiking up Signal Hill in the morning, and generally being an awesome morning person.  It didn't really pan out.  I simply could not drag my butt out of that bed!  Eventually I had to get ready for work, so I showered and preened and ate some oatmeal, and off we went!

Watching my favourite plane land and taxi into the gate had me doing a little dance of giddy excitement.  The two gallons of coffee I had consumed helped.  I was a little wired.  The flights went smoothly -  easy service and no real problems.  Although I had initially expected a plane full of  firefighters, I was a little disappointed to discover that we were actually moving Cadets.  It was pretty cool to see them all in their uniforms... I want the navy blue one in a serious way... But 150 firefighters would have been a bit more pleasing on the eyes...

The last leg of the flight was a ferry flight, which meant three things.  One - that we had to clean all the tray tables because they were icky.  Two - I was allowed to sit in the flight deck for the take-off and landing, which made my MONTH!  And Three - time for a Flight Attendant Photoshoot!

Being in the flight deck for take-off and landing was amazing.  It certainly wasn't the first time I've had the opportunity, but it was the first time since I started my own flight training, and the whole experience was so much more appreciable now that I am able to recognize a bit about what is going on.  I had the biggest, goofiest grin on my face during take-off.  And naturally I attempted to take a million and four photographs. 

We flew over Niagara Falls while we were inbound to Hamilton, and it proved tricky to get a decent shot.  Still, it was incredible to see the falls from above!

 Eventually it was time to land, and we lined up on the runway.  I was keen to observe our First Officer do the landing.  It really wasn't much different - a few extra instruments here and there aside, I suppose there wouldn't be that much difference in landing a plane - the basics are always going to be the same.

We finished off the pairing with drinks and a lovely dinner at a restaurant called "Spice Avenue", which the First Officer suggested, and it turned out to be one of the best meals I've had in ages.  And accompanied by an amazing "Asian Pear Mojito". 

 Over dinner, we mostly talked shop - the pilots gave me lots of awesome advice.  I love how willing people are to talk to me about my learning to fly.  I don't want to feel at like I am pestering people for information, and I really don't want to bug anyone, so it's very nice to find people who are actually willing to take the time and talk with me and share tips that they think will benefit me.  It all comes together to build up the confidence I need to have in myself.

To round out a wonderful weekend, we deadheaded back to YOW on Air Canada on an Embraer 190.  Although the flight itself was really bumpy, the landing was absolutely amazing, the best I've ever experienced.  On the way out, I poked my head in the flight deck to check it out, and saw a woman sitting in the left seat!  Colour me inspired!!!

Canada Day in the Sky

Yesterday afternoon one of the pilots from the Algonquin program was kind enough to take me for a flight.  The wind was pretty strong, but I said that a bumpy flight didn't bother me if it didn't bother him, so off we went!  We flew south of the city and followed the highway for a while, and then out into the country towards my house.  I almost didn't see it at first - it was right under the nose of the plane, so it was only when we were right above it that I spotted it.  The pilot circled it a few times, and I took a few photographs.  I could see my Mum and Basil (our beagle) out in the garden, and Mum was waving - she figured out it was me.

It was very interesting.  I have never seen my house from above like that, and it was really nice to see all of the surrounding land.  Although I kind of knew, I had no idea that we lived so far out in the middle of nowhere.  No wonder it takes me 45 minutes to an hour to get into the city!  Fifteen minutes in a Cessna is way better!  Time to build a personal landing strip, I think!

The other thing that surprised me was just how many little aerodromes are out here in the country.  We saw at least four active ones, and one abandoned.  And yet once we got away from the airport traffic, we didn't see another plane until we turned back towards the city and rejoined the circuit.

Since HRM, The Queen is in town, there were restrictions in the NOTAMs.  There was an area around the downtown which was restricted airspace for the day - kind of a shame, as it would have been cool to see some of the Canada Day celebrations from above.  These restrictions stopped us from landing on 22/04, our usual runway, and was hindering the use of 25/07 also, so we ended up landing on 32.  A 10,000ft runway seems a little excessive for a tiny little Cessna really...

All in all it was a lovely afternoon.  Really I don't care where I go, I am just happy to be in the air!

We Could Wait for the Weather to Change, or I Could Stand Here and Pout...

I wrote myself a letter this morning.


Dear Flygirl,

Do try not to have an emotional meltdown on your poor Instructor today.  He’s got the patience of a saint, but really, some chick sobbing with frustration in the plane next to him might prove to be a little much for the poor guy.
Just chill out, you crazy bitch.

Love from,
Your Dignity

Then I got in my car and started driving towards the airport.  Halfway there, the heavens opened and it poured!  I sulked for the rest of the way, pretty sure that my lesson was going to get rained out.  By the time I got there the rain had stopped, but there were still some low clouds.  Sure enough, My Instructor shook his head.  I pouted.

We decided to see if it cleared up a little bit, so My Instructor let me play with the new simulator a little bit.  I've never used a flight simulator before, and it was quite the strange experience.  The graphics are really good so it looks a lot like you are flying, and then you have all the controls, but it just doesn't feel quite the same.  It took a few circuits to get the hang of it, but I especially loved not having to actually go around the circuit in order to do another landing.  I was less enthused about the "birdstrike" though...

After a few simulated circuits, the sky had cleared up enough for a few real ones!  I got my plane and headed out for a walk-around.  All was well, so we hopped in, secured ourselves, and I did my pre-flight checks.  Then I turned the starter key and nothing happened.  I had a bit of panic in my mind.  'Oh my god, how did I mess that up?!  Why do I suck so much?'  Then I thought that I really hadn't messed up, and turned to look enquiringly at My Instructor.  As it turned out, it wasn't my fault.  The starter wasn't engaging for whatever - probably the battery, it was determined.

By the time we had told the maintenance crew about the problem and headed back into the club to write it all up, I was ready to go into full on Pout mode again.  Why was the morning against me?  All I wanted to do was fly!  It was TUESDAY.  That's my day.

Luckily, there were other planes available, so we grabbed one and finally got into the sky.  The second plane (C-GKLN) was slighty different to the usual C-150s we fly in.  It was heavier, and had something going on with the wings which apparently made it more stable - I have completely forgotten what it was called.  Whatever it was, I really liked flying that plane.  Something about it just felt really good.  I'm definitely going to try and nab it again in my future lessons.

I didn't even think about my first landing until I was lined up on the runway.  I think I was too busy trying to deal with the strong cross-wind to allow myself to get too worked up about it.  Next thing I knew I was on the runway, and my landing didn't suck!  For the first time I felt able to say 'Oh, that wasn't too bad actually!'  The next couple were just as good, and my spirits soared!  It finally started to feel a little better.  I am a lot better at landing without flaps, so the next challenge is getting it nice and smooth with flaps.  I rounded out the lesson with two of my worst landings to date, but I'm trying to not think about them, and just focus on the good ones!

After the lesson, I grabbed some lunch and settled myself in the club's lounge, with the intention of studying for my PSTAR.  I did get some work done, but also got a bit of football watching done, and a bit of socializing done, too!  Around 3pm, I found myself tagging along with some of the students from the college program.  They were going to the retirement celebrations of a Nav Canada Pilot.  I heard the phrase "low and over on runway 25" and figured it was worth a look!

It was definitely worth the visit.  The pilot had some rather touching words of wisdom to share with us eager young beginners, and we had the opportunity to watch some planes landing from the aerocentre, which afforded a pretty great view.

There were also a few nice jets parked, and a few other interesting planes landed while we were there.

Afterward, some of the Nav Canada employees were kind enough to show us a couple of their planes - a Dash 8 and an RJ.

While in the RJ, a couple of the students were ooohing and aaahing over all of the numerous gadgets, dials and buttons in the flight deck.  I wandered over to have a look, and found a relatively familiar sight.  It was quite similar to the set-up of our B737s at The Airline, although the RJ appeared to have fewer instruments, and not as much going on in the central console area.  I overheard one of the students say 'Wow, it's not exactly like a Cessna...'

I realised something, then.  Although I'm a real baby in the aviation world, at just over 16 hours, I have been lucky enough to spend quite a bit of time in the flight deck of large passenger jets.  Now I am thinking that my experience as a Flight Attendant might actually benefit me as a Pilot.  Although it's not going to be too helpful in the actual flying of the planes, I have been privileged enough to spend quite a bit of time around large aircraft, and I don't find myself intimidated by them at all.  I did pick up quite a bit of information from the Pilots in my incessant questioning of them, and these gems of knowledge make themselves apparent every now and then.

To round out the excitement of the day, an Air Transat Airbus was doing circuits on runway 25.  Proper circuits - touch and gos, overshoots, the works.  It's quite something to see!  Today really was one of those days that it just felt wonderful to be at the club!

Never a Dull Moment...

Last night I was booting around the Byward Market when I got a text from The Tall Estonian.  "Great day to not hang out here, cause you just missed a plane doing a wheels up landing".

Because I'm me, I jumped in my car and drove back to the airport, where I was just in time to watch the guys from the OFC placing the injured bird outside the club with the help of a crane.  The plane in question was a Cessna 206 Amphibian, and the pilot had found he had problems with his landing gear, which prevented him from landing properly.  So he had opted to land on the grass beside runway 22, in case the emergency vehicles were required.  Thankfully they were not, the pilot was unharmed, and there was minimal damage to the plane.

The pictures are courtesy of the Tall Estonian, as once again I did not have my camera.  When am I going to learn to just carry it with me all the time?

This photograph is definitely my favourite.  It makes me giggle uncontrollably every time I look at it...
Look at that concentration!

747 Hunting... My Favourite Pastime.

"The natural habitat of the 747 is at large airports with likely 15+ Starbucks' and moving sidewalks. When observing the 747 you should camouflage yourself to blend in with luggage or food crates because the 747 spooks easily. The main predator of the 747 is the small but lethal F22 Raptor. For protection the 747 will often dump everyone's luggage mid flight to distract the F22 Raptor while it escapes into the ash clouds over Iceland." -Harri (aka The Tall Estonian)

I have a thing for the Boeing 747.  It is, hands down, my favourite airplane.  Even the ridiculously large A380 cannot compete with the B747 for my affections.

I had a flight out of YYZ last month, and spent some time roaming around Terminal 3 in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the B747.  Unfortunately, security weren't so keen on my wandering around the international gates.  They sent me packing.  So I sat at my own gate, feeling rather disappointed, until a B747 Cargo taxied right past us!  It was quite far away, but I was still pretty happy to see one - it had been a very long time since I had seen one on the ground.  The other Flight Attendant I dragged around Terminal 3 was somewhat less impressed.

Naturally, a few weeks later one lands in YOW.  I'd had an awful day at work, and took a tour past the airport, and there it was.  An instant mood lifter.  The President of China was visiting, and parked his B747 right outside the airport employee parking lot.  Naturally I didn't have my camera.  The following photographs were taken by Ian McCord, who was kind enough to forward them to me for my blog!

 Ian has an impressive photography collection, primarily related to trains, but he has a good selection of aviation photographs as well.  Some of his pictures can be seen at :
http://s839.photobucket.com/home/OCRR4204/index
http://www.flickr.com/photos/71639059@N00/
http://picasaweb.google.com/ocrr4204


Thanks again for the pictures, Ian!

That's a Quarter of a Year...

It has been three months today since I first flew an airplane.
That's it.  Just three months.

I feel certain that something here must be incorrect.  How can such a short period of time have passed?  Three months is nothing.  Am I stuck in a time vortex?  Is time on a loop for me?  Have I been watching too much Doctor Who?  Well... yes I have been watching too much Doctor Who, but that's irrelevant.  Three months doesn't seem like much time at all, and yet, as I said before, it seems like it has been a lifetime.

I tried to think back to a time when I didn't always look above when I heard an airplane pass overhead.  I can't. I know it must have been less than four months ago that I developed such a Pavlovian response, but the time before is failing to register. 

While I was at work today, one of the servers found a child's book called Angela's Airplane (Annikins).


I grew up somewhat ignorant of Robert Munsch, so I had never heard of it.  But I suppose a child left it behind at The Restaurant, and this other server found it and gave it to me.  I thought it was adorable, and perhaps a little bit of the Universe making itself heard, as it is so wont to do.

Happy three months to me, and many many more to come.  It's going to be a long journey, and this little anniversary will surely amount to the tiniest fraction in the end, but right now it feels like an accomplishment.

Happy to say I am in a much more positive state of mind than I was following my last lesson.  For a time I was considering taking a week off from lessons in order to relax a little and not be so frazzled, thinking that if I was so easily distracted then I would never focus properly.  However now that I have calmed down a little, I see that it would be a stupid move to take time away from my lessons.  Two weeks between lessons would surely make me forget things, and make it even harder for me to perfect my landing.  This will only make me more frustrated, and then I'll be back to square one.  Plus I love that Tuesday always has me in the air.  It's my happy.  It's my drug.  I don't want to quit!  I need that next hit!

This weekend will see me doing a spot of province hopping for The Airline.  I am quite looking forward to it.  These days I am happy with any and all flights I can get my eager little hands on.  That's the curse of charter airlines.  There isn't always going to be enough contracts to keep everyone flying full time.  But I'm still working every so often, and I think it will just make me appreciate my pairings a lot more when they come my way!  (This pairing in particular has the added bonus of potentially being firefighter movement!  Thank you powers that be!)

Vivid Memories

Some moments just stick out in the mind.

On the last flight of our Sun Destination charter in the winter, we ferried the aircraft known (to me) as Lettie down to Cancun to "repatriate" 158 Canadians.  I was sad and stressed out, worried that it was going to be my last flight ever.  Thank goodness it didn't turn out that way, but still, I was a little upset.  The other FAs were using the empty plane to stretch out and sleep.  I chose to stay in the Flight Deck with the boys and enjoy what I thought could be my last trip.  At this point, I still didn't know that I was going to follow my new path towards becoming a pilot, so I was really just enjoying the view and the company.

The Captain was agitated.  It was the day of the gold medal hockey game of the Olympics, and we were officially missing it.  After mumbling and grumbling about it, and using lots of choice curse words, he finally decided to send the First Officer hunting on the AM radio waves to see if we could pick up the game.  Sure enough, some random Mexican station was broadcasting it!  The Captain put it on the speakers in the flight deck so that all three of us could listen in.  There was cheering, there was yelling, and many more curse words.

We almost managed to listen to the entire game, and had it not gone into overtime, it would have been no problem.  But we were almost in Cancun, and the guys had to start our descent.  The Captain schemed; 'Maybe we can do a go-around or something and catch the end of the game before we have to land...' but it was no good, and descend we did.  All was going well, but it was a race against time.  The overtime period began - we listened.  We continued to descend.  The announcer started to sound very excited, this was it, someone was going to the net, something was going to happen, Crosby had the puck.....

We hit 10,000ft and lost the signal.

The resulting screams of 'NOOOOOOOO' brought two of the other FAs to the flight deck looking extremely panicked.  Apparently hearing screams and cries coming from the flight deck isn't so re-assuring.  Who knew?

The second we landed and the engines were shut down, the first thing the Captain did was get out the Blackberry and call head office.
'What happened?!  No, the score!  What do you mean you aren't watching the game, turn the damned TV on and tell me the f***ing score!!!!'

The Flight Attendant's ABCs - C (charlie) is for...

• Coffee - It’s amazing how many problems can be solved at 35,000 ft by coffee.  Cranky pax?  No problem.  Coffee!  Cranky pilots?  No problem.  Coffee!  Blocked lav?  Hey, I know, we could dump pots of coffee down there until things start to shift again (isn’t being a flight attendant glamorous?).  Lav completely frozen because it’s January in Ottawa and the temperature outside is -40C?  Dude, don’t call the mechanic…just pour coffee in until it melts.  Need to get rid of that bag of ice before you land?  Put it in the sink and just add hot coffee!  Lav stinks like woah because you’re flying people home from their all-inclusive Caribbean vacation?  Get a packet of coffee grounds and sprinkle it in.  Instant air freshener!  The list goes on.  And on.  And on.
  
  
• Customs Cards - Even FAs have to fill these babies out when they land and actually get off the aircraft for longer than a smoke break.  An FA will fill them out so often s/he could do it blindfolded.  And yet s/he will still manage to ruin at least two while frantically filling it out on final approach.  Every single time.
  
  
• Carry-Ons - Ok people, it’s right there in the name.  “Carry” on.  Not “roll” on.  If it’s too heavy for you to be able to carry; if you have to roll that sucker down the aisle and get in everyone’s way; and if you can’t lift it into the overhead bin by yourself without an FA’s assistance, then no, it’s not really a “carry” on.  Do you really need to take entertainment for the entire week’s vacation all in one bag?  How can a handbag with a purse, one book, an iPod and a few toiletries and perhaps a change of underwear not suffice?  It’s a four hour flight, we’re not going to bloody Australasia in one day.
  
  
• Cell-Phones - It’s one of the most obvious things.  Please don’t use your cell phone in flight.  You’re not going to get any reception once we get in the air anyway, so what’s the point in having it roaming for four hours?  Why people never comply is just beyond me.  My favourite is ‘but it’s not a cell-phone, it’s a Blackberry’.  Can you call someone on it?  Yes?  Then turn it off.  Don’t make me ask twice, or I will cease to be so polite about it.

Next time… D (delta) is for…

That Poor Airplane's Shocks...

Early morning is a beautiful time of day to fly.  The air is sharp and clear and smooth. 

However, at 8am after driving an hour to get to my flying lesson, my brain is none of those things.  It's the opposite.  It's dull and fuzzy and...bumpy - absolutely full of nonsense.

I was not impressed with my performance today.  Not in the slightest.  I went from feeling like a rockstar for several weeks in a row to feeling like an utter idiot.  LANDING.  Why does it have to be so bloody difficult?  Honestly, I understand the concept.  It's not hard - nose down, come in at 70kts, keep the center line, come into cruise attitude and pull the nose up gently as you see the runway start to sink ahead of you.  Yeah.  That's the idea.  I can do it.  In my head.

At this point I have to stop.  I might be being a little unfair to myself I suppose.  I can land an airplane.  I can do it - I've done it about a dozen times now, "safely".  That's the word My Instructor keeps using.  "Safe".  It's a good word, it implies that I'm not likely to corkscrew my aircraft into the ground, which I look upon as being somewhat successful.  I can do a safe landing.

But I am a perfectionist.  I despise not being good at something I am trying to learn.  So all this touch and go, touch and go, touch and go stuff, while very enjoyable, is beyond frustrating if I am not getting things done as well as I should like.  I did notice a sliiiiight improvement.  There were two landings mixed in with the crap that weren't all that bad.  But for the first time EVER I landed feeling fairly fed up. 

We had been working on the South Field, on runway 25, so I was in the circuit with all the Air Canada Jazz and the West Jet and the Porter on the big runway.  It was my first time on 25, and so I had some difficulty judging when to turn to my base and my final approach and such, and that just added to my frustration.  At one point during the lesson I even considered asking if we could call it a day. I bit my tongue on the request though.  No giving up.  Giving up is not allowed here.  I knew I just needed to power on and not be weak.  The only way I'm going to get better is if I practice, and practicing doesn't happen if you give up half way through a lesson.  I hate that I even considered it.

We did go back to runway 22 after that, which made me a little more comfortable - I'm much more used to that runway.  I tried a couple more landings, and My Instructor demonstrated an engine failure in the circuit, which I am supposed to start practicing next lesson.

My favourite moment of the day came while I was lining up on runway 25 ahead of Jazz or someone.  I heard them talking to the Tower, and the tower responded.
'You are number two, just behind a C-150.  He's lining up to land on runway 25.  Just slow down and give him about 30kts to clear.'

He.  Him.
Oh man!  Did I switch gender again and forget?!  Oh wait.  Nope, still a girl.  Still got boobs.  Still don't even sound remotely like a man on the radio.  Come on buddy!

By the time I got home I was officially Captain Crankypants, and packed myself off to bed for a nap to rectify the situation.  It didn't work.  Positivity has left the building, ladies and gentlemen.  But don't worry, it will be back.  I understand that landing is probably one of the hardest things to learn, and obviously it's the most important.  I understand that every pilot (except for those lucky, talented sods that I don't even want to think about right now) goes through this frustration, and that it really isn't something you can learn how to do perfectly in just a few lessons.  But I want to be there.  I have this overwhelming impatience in me when it comes to flying.  I want to learn how to do everything all at once and be good at it.

If the saying is that you have to learn to walk before you run, how could we apply that to flying?  Maybe you just need to learn how to be safe before you can be graceful.

Confidence Issues

I have been working on my Private Pilot's License for just under three months now.  This blows my mind a little bit.  For one thing, I'm working on my Private Pilot's License.  It's not really something I ever expected myself to say.  It's slow going, because I can usually only fly once a week, but I'm doing it.  For another thing, it doesn't seem like only three months.  It feels like three years.  I feel like I have always been doing this, like I have always wanted to and needed to do this.  I've gone through so much in such a short amount of time it's a wonder I haven't short-circuited yet.

Training hasn't been all fun happy times either.  Don't get me wrong, I've loved every second of it so far.  But it's been stressful and emotional for me, and very trying at times.

After the first few lessons, the initial "OMG I'M FLYING AN AIRPLANE" factor started to wear off a little.  In my third lesson I had my first surge of doubt.  All I could think of was how poorly I was doing that day, and felt like I had no place being there and should never be allowed to be a Pilot.   And then just when I was starting to feel comfortable with My Instructor, he announced that he was leaving for a week, and I was going to have to take a lesson with a Substitute Instructor.  This lesson was an utter disaster, or at least I felt it was.  Definitely not the Substitute Instructor's fault, but mostly because of my own nerves.  When My Instructor returned from his trip I practically had to bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out 'never leave me again!!!!'. 

My lessons continued, and I started to get edged out about a couple of upcoming chapters in my flight training manual - Stalls, and Spins.  I quickly overcame the fear of stalls, it wasn't really what I had expected based upon the name, and turned out to be something that, once in the air, I didn't really waste much stress on it.  I just got on with the exercise.

Spins was a whole different story though.  I managed to freak myself out completely by looking them up on youtube weeks before the lesson, and decided that they looked utterly terrifying and I thought I was nuts for getting myself into this.  Then, to make matters worse, My Instructor told me I was going to be going out on that lesson with a Supervisor Instructor.  My brain shut down completely.  I had just begun to feel really good about flying with My Instructor, although briefing was giving me grief - I would get nervous and clam up and feel stupid, and that would hit my confidence a little.  And now I was facing this challenging lesson, and I had to go with an instructor I had never flown with before?  Based upon my performance with the Substitute Instructor some weeks earlier, I felt that this did not bode well for me.  The nerves of performing flight exercises in front of a total stranger, and the added pressure that messing up would not only make me look bad, but would reflect poorly on My Instructor as well, PLUS the nerves of my first spin all added up to make me one frazzled little Flygirl for a week or so.

The day dawned, and I probably didn't sleep as well as I needed to.  I was nervous.  I wasn't scared - in my brain, scared is bad, nervous is good.  Scared makes people run away from the things they fear.  Nerves just gives you a little extra energy with which to face your fears.  But I was nervous.

I expected the lesson to be awful, and then to go back and apologize profusely to My Instructor for making it look like he was a bad teacher, which was absolutely not the case.  But five minutes into the briefing I noticed something strange.  My brain was connected to my mouth.  I was able to adequately display that I understood the material using my words.  Interesting.  New.

Things got better.  We got in the plane and I did the take-off, which the Supervisor said was "perfect".  Score another point for me.  Things just kept going right for me.  I did my radio communications by myself.  I had no trouble keeping the correct altitude.  I rocked stalls.  'Oh, wing drop? No problem, just a little rudder here, and sorted!'  By the time the exercise was over I felt like a rock star.  And then it was time for the dreaded spin.  I don't know if I was more surprised by how slow and serene it felt, or by how much I enjoyed it.  Looking up and seeing the ground 2500ft above your head is not something you generally get to see.  It's quite beautiful.

By the time the Supervisor Instructor and I landed, I was buzzing again.  I felt confident and capable in a brand new way.  But then this new found confidence led to more internal struggle.  Why had I never felt that confident before?  Did I prefer this new instructor?  What was going on?  I didn't think it was really about the instructor, because I had really liked working with My Instructor.  But I couldn't deny the fact that I had been a badass that day, and I needed to know why.  I booked a couple more lessons with the Supervisor Instructor in order to figure things out.

After a couple of lessons, I still felt like a confident, capable student pilot.  I tried another lesson with My Instructor, and it felt about fifteen times better than it had before.  Although My Instructor and I did discuss ways we could kill my nerves in the briefings, I think the huge change in my confidence came from my brain somewhere.  I stopped feeling as though flying was something I would never be able to get the hang of, and just started to focus on doing it.

Now I am working in the circuits and practicing my landings (boy do they need some work...) and still feel really good about it all.  My first solo flight is starting to look like something in the foreseeable future, instead of something that makes me giggle nervously whenever mentioned.  There are still a lot of hurdles before I get to that point though, but onwards and upwards!