AND SO IT BEGINS

In the world of politics (as well as the world of war) the game is is played and won not by the total destruction of you enemy but instead, by the submission and subjegation of your enemy.

In aviation the battlefields are the airports and airspace, the tactics and weapons, user fees and taxation. And the Air Transport Association has opened with intersting first strike in the open public realm. This slick add has been making apperances across CNN and a few other news organizations. It's cartoony and caters to the un-informed which is a very dangerous thing. If I can't post it here you can find it on YouTube.com

...actually there isn't much you can't see on YouTube come to think of it.

To counter, AOPA has returned fire with their own commercial (which has yet to appear on YouTube oddly) outlining the reality of air traffic delays. It's not slick or cartoony, but instead straight forward and to the point. Link goodness

Between these two commercials and the growing support in both directions, it seems that aviation is getting poised to become a rather heated issue in the not too distant future. Honestly it feels like I'm watchig two presidential campaigns gearing up to slug it out based on the amount of effort that's been placed on these ads. Stay tuned kids, electees come and go, but this will effect flying forever.

KW

WHERE THE DEVIL HAVE YOU BEEN!!!!

Hard to believe that a month has more or less vanished since I added any inspiring, yet authentically questionable, words to this blog-o-mine. What have I been doing, where have I been, who's shooting at me, and just what the hell is going on here are all questions I've been rolling around in my own head. So anything that you've got, take a number and have a seat I'll get to your concerns when I figure it out for myself.

The last few weeks have been an adventure. Beyond scoring my pilot's license and having a damn good time on clear days, I've been traveling a great deal but more by roads than by air. Something that I've learned is that if you have a pilot's license a 14 hour drive that was already a soul crushing mindless zig-zag of highways becomes an absolute teeth grinding annoyance when you're forced by weather to long haul it from Florida to Kentucky via the great Yankee conduit that is I-75. Alas though because I am a patriot (despite the fact that the Republican party considers me otherwise because I register Independent, part of that “with us or against us mentality”...idiots) I returned to Louisville to do my duty for country and what's his name, that one dude, God or something, and continue my growing legacy with the 123 Airlift Wing...while also having a ridiculously good time with friends and family that I left behind some time ago. My two weeks spent back in the town I love was conveniently scheduled during the greatest horse racing event in the country, the Kentucky Derby! (Crafty planner I am!)

If you've never been to the Derby or experienced Louisville the week NAY the month leading up to the race then you, my friend, have no idea what kind of place that city really is when it turns on. Between the Pegasus Parade, the Air Show, Thunder over Louisville, The Great Bed Races (don't ask, I still haven’t figured out what it has to do with the event either) The Great Steam Boat race, the fashion that appears everywhere, concerts downtown, the food and multitude of festivities that can be found from block to another, a better time in another city, save for Marti Gras in New Orleans, is a hard thing to locate. The alcohol flows just as freely. If I didn't have friends and family in the Derby City I would still go there just for this event alone.

Speaking of friends and family, I spent this particular trip visiting previously unexplored areas of Louisville that before I would have simply avoided. In my adventures I got to meet a few amazing people, including the guys from the bands that played the Rudyard Kipling till dawn. It was 80’s night at my arrival but despite my lack of tight rolled jeans or custom fit vest complete with funky hair, I managed to fit in nicely anyway. Thanks to Lillyanna for inviting me out and showing me exactly how Old Louisville gets things done. In addition to hoping from place to place, including café 360, as well as the old watering holes down Bardstown road (Oshea’s, Flanagan’s, Molly’s respectively) I also spent a great deal of time with Aaron Mitchell, Jamie, and the rest of the house crew a mere block and a half away from the Downs. During our Derby Party/Cinqo De Mayo celebration I bartended for the back porch event, and raked in more than Aaron and crew spent on the supplies. Job well done, free alcohols to the bar keep, and thank you Jenny G for a solid night of festivities/distraction.

Words will never do the Derby justice, it's something must be experienced first hand. Find a friend who loves Horse gambling and get your asses to Churchill on the first Saturday next may. Actually, get there a week ahead of time, shell out for a room at the Galt house (yes you will pay through the nose for this and I recommend getting a reservation two years ago) and just enjoy the town I love so much. You won't be disappointed.

Off To The Race! For the first time I placed bets on a slew of contenders for the run for the roses. Two of them actually came through in spades. I've had a feeling that a change of luck was forth coming; especially after picking up my wings, this little bonus added to it that much more. It's going to be a good year.

On the Florida front, half the damn state, as well as half the damn state of Georgia has gone up in a plume of smoke and ash. Because I had to drive to Louisville it stands to reason that the return trip was also made via four wheeled transport and driving through the smoke and fire was interesting to say the least. Not quite apocalyptic but add a cast of pissed off natives with tattoos and piercings and Mel Gibson might have a run for his money. (Actually does deliverance count if you add smoke, fire and a different language?) Definitely reduced visibility, even on the ground I could barely see beyond a 1/4 mile. Flying through it would have simply been impossible on my current rating and even a tried a true IFR (instrument Flight Ref for those non aviators) jockey would have turned around before even getting close. Clogged engines and air filters do not good flying make. At one point, while passing again through the great yankee conduit, I passed several signs warning of fire and smoke, traffic detours ahead and finally the end all that I didn’t want, I-75 ahead was closed to all traffic from I-10 south. Plot a course and divert and back through Tallahassee I drove and on to Lakeland via crossroads. Eerie is the only word I can conjure to summarize that leg of the trip. Zero visibility, ash, smoke and the smell of pine trees roasting. Even after a rain shower passed through , conditions had not changed. Very glad I didn't have to fly through it.

Pre-Derby news, the Sun-N-Fun event passed while this page sat idle. What a treat that turned out to be, especially being an insider who's also in good graces with the board of directors or the event. Open pass to anything and everything, free demo flights and the watchful guide from a good friend who's leading me through the steps of self made employment. After Sun-N-Fun this year I stumbled onto several ideas that could improve not only the fly-in, but the general well being of aviation all together. Some are specific to Lakeland; some are wide range that could be very profitable. Dominos are already being lined up and it’s just a matter of time before I set things into motion. Champagne and Caviar? Not likely, but a step in the right direction towards my own cargo line. My brother and I were also requested, by name, to fly in the Cessna fly-by showcase this year using both our 172 and 150 Cessna’s. This marks the 80th year of the company's existence and a fitting tribute was made with a twenty plane fly by consisting of as many production and military Cessna representations that could be mustered, including the Bamboo Bomber. Guy and myself flew in positions five and seven behind a 140 and a “Birddog”. Nice highlight for the log book and to be asked to jump in with so little solo time following my license speaks alot about how the board of directors feels about my abilities as a pilot as well as an asset to the event. Yes, it's going to be a good year.

To wrap it up, this blog will go to a once a week updated basis, simply for the practice more than anything else, and ultimately a running commentary on the up and coming battle for the future of General Aviation. During the fly-in I became a member of AOPA (Aircraft Owners and Pilot's Association) for the sole purpose of getting into the fight against the Proposed "Next Generation Air Transportation System Financing Reform Act." To me as well as thousands of others I imagine the fight is personal. We've all come this far to be Pilot's and we will all be damned before someone else tries to restrict us even further from the thing we love most in this world. This is not Europe; I will not fly by their rules. In addition this blog will be a place to throw out directions and suggestions for a product I hope to swing to market in the not so distant future. Till then, cheers and happy landings, I'm off to the Airport.

KW

Ahem

PILOT!

KW

One More Step

I've got a large binder in front of me that contains every known piece of information related to the aircraft I've been flying since late January, a cessna Skyhawk circa 1964. In it, all the modifications that are known are logged,annotated, reviewed, certified, checked, rechecked, checked again, sent off for DNA analysis, double checked, updated and reviewed by the FAA, A&P Certified Mechanic, Certified Public Accountant, Certified Midget, CIA, FBI, your grandmothers book club, officially licensed spider monkey, reprocessed, rejected, lost, found, relocated and finally signed off by several high ranking, high salary individuals who glanced at the binder for about five seconds to cover their asses and then delivered back to the owner of the aircraft...who still is missing the current weight and balance sheet, the one in it now is off by three pounds...stupid alternators.

What does this all mean, why am I concerning myself with a mountain of paperwork (of which I only need about three or four important sources) ? Why am I going to be up all night tonight and tomorrow reviewing everything I've ever learned about flying since first looking at an aircraft? Why am I dragging this post out to ridiculous proportions? Why am I obsessed lately about orals and their subsequent consequences should I fail to preform (or worse contract something horrible) ? Two Words!

CHECK RIDE

The time has come that I shed the proverbial training wheels and get into the cockpit of an airplane with a total stranger who's not only entrusting his life to my hands he will ultimately decided whether or not I've got what it takes to be a pilot... a private pilot...right after a generous donation of $350 dollars to his bank account...

Moving on. Thursday (April 5th) at 11am I begin the two part FAA check ride that starts with an oral aeronautical exam followed by a practical demonstration of lessons learned and aeronautical knowledge gained during training. This is the big one, this is the license I've been working my ass off for, slaving tables and putting up with the retirement community, gearing my entire life there after, all for the privilege to take to the air in a most unusual fashion, one of which that man was not originally designed for yet over came the bounds of gravity simply because he could. My chance to fly (and legally for a change)

Fortune Favors The Bold.
Wish me luck

KW

Things of Note

A bright and sunny awaits outside and as I sit here munching on a bowl of cheerio goodness, lamenting the lack of action that was last night, and sorting out what I'd love to do with the day it occurs to me that perhaps, were my soul not worth a just a little bit more to me (worth at least a bottle of Makers Mark) I'd be willing to sell it off for an unlimited supply of Av Gas as my lack there of (and funding to obtain more) so that I could spend more time getting longer flights. The irony here is that I know the exact location of such a source of the 100LL goodness, at the very least a couple thousand gallons, is hiding at an abandoned airfield in a tanker truck that hasn't moved in the last seven years. The catch? It's 14 hours away by car and at least half of that by flight in a 172. Back to the cheerios and the flight guide for phone numbers, IN SEARCH OF CHEAP FUEL!!!

I mentioned in the last post the up and coming financial turmoil slowly boiling in congress, that if unleashed, will be a significant blow, if not total destruction of General Aviation. Many names have been passed around this grand new scheme, User Fees, Fuel Taxes, privatization of the FAA, Operation "Screw the Private and Sport Pilots" and my personal favorite "The continued support of the airline industry despite it's blatant inability to collectively get it's shit together while relying on the government, and now individual pilots, to carry it's burden instead."

The sum total of this proposed new budget for the FAA essentially places the funding out of the hands of the government and into the hands of anything and everything that isn't a major air carrier, I.E GA. I'm still sorting through the details as they emerge but rest assured nothing good can or will come of this plan. News in the coming weeks of what the exact new rules will be regarding the User Fees and additional fuel taxes, when those details emerge I'll bury myself and them and try to determine just what's going on. For more info, visit AOPA's website (Google it, I don't have the link).

On the lighter notes....yep not much going on. I'm ignoring persist ant problems with the car and looking for other pilots my age to hang out with but like me we're all buried in training. Grrr, now I know what medical residence feels like, Social life? Not so much due in at the hanger/Operating Room.

KW

Grind the teeth, Carry On

There are times when toiling in the slave trade that is work in order to do the very thing you love to do, you find yourself stepping back and asking, “Just why the hell am I doing this again?” Tonight was such a case in point.

Amongst the regular faces we see so often at the this particular airside restaurant, there are those nights when a totally different crowd comes completely out of the blue and on those night the most important thing to remember (in my case anyway) is that 100 low lead gasoline is expensive enough o cause even the best of men to commit devious and murderous acts that even Jeffery Dahmer would find to be in poor taste. As such, I must remain on my best behavior in order to reel in enough of the glorious green in the nights earning to keep my ambitious arse airborne. Lest I be left with an unfueled aircraft, an unpaid instructor, and ( and this is probably the more important of the three although debatable if you’re a hardcore aviation addict) food in the stomach. So even though I would love nothing more that to choke to death the two picky whiny mothers and their collective total of five or six urchins, or beat the on the go jet setter, who believes that he or she has walked into a Starbucks rather than a restaurant, with the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on, I must instead remain cool, let the dice roll and play the face of charming, helpful guy who’s trying to better himself though humiliation against his college degree…

If the winds don’t lay low tomorrow and allow me to get off the ground, I’m totally going to lose my sh&#^….and take everyone who works with me out with me….

Picked up a new toy however that has brought me a good deal of satisfaction and entertainment. I’ve managed to get my hands on a Garmin GPS 195 and for a mere $150 which beats the bejebus out of the two or three hundred I’ve seen these units sell for. Quite the steal and within flying distance, so I not only got in a few worth while hours, I also had a purpose beyond learning on this particular week. A stones throw from LAL is BOW, that would be Bartow for the not flight oriented. Three runways and class D airspace, nothing I couldn't handle. By air it’s only about five or six minutes away. Of course I didn’t waste this opportunity to fly and so a ten minute there and back again trip turned into something like 1.3 hours in the log book as I stayed up s long as I could before having to report to the aforementioned means to the end. A few cross winds landings, some bumpy air, S turns over a road, steep turns, point turns and stall work, all to keep it fresh in my head and hands. For my next magic trick, a cross country with the instructor on board, hopefully with a little night time wedged in as well in the coming week. Till then, short hops and slinging food.

KW

Stay tuned Kids, next entry I rant about the up and coming proposals for General Aviation Fuel prices by our dear and lovely congress.

SOLO

I've not updated this blog in some time and it has been with reason. I simply wanted to close off for a time being until the day I could call myself, at the very least, a capable pilot. That day came on the 17 of Feb. Still smiling like ear to ear three days later.

February 17, 2007

SOLO

I’ve been told that certain experiences in life will never be forgotten, others that can never be described, and still more than can only be appreciated by being there for yourself. I’ve been trying to put into words what it feels like, what one thinks and experiences when, for the first time, they climb into an aircraft and successfully fly it totally reliant upon themselves for the success (not to mention the survival) of the flight. What it is to fly a perfect pattern altitude, to set up each approach and smoothly glide to perfect greased on landings, turn around and do it again just as smoothly, just as effortlessly with out hesitation, without second guessing, for the first time to slip the surly bonds and fly free.

I don’t have clue about those perfect pattern altitudes, the text book approaches, or the greased on landings, I can tell you about bobbing up and down within 100 feet, a few S-turns and slips here and there, and wobbling on the mains after the initial contact, and above all I can say it was the most significant and gratifying moment of anything I have ever done. I don’t believe I’ve ever smiled so wide before, or held it for two days straight.

I can also tell you about taking the Option for 27 instead of the full stop and making a low pass (maybe 150 ft) at 120 on the airspeed indicator, the instructor didn’t see that coming.

Only one sentence I’ve ever heard or read sums up what it is to fly Solo for the first time.

“The most fun you can have with your pants on”

‘Nuff said.

Total time at Solo 11.9

Total PIC time .5

Total Landings 4+One pass for the fun of it.