The pressure was on. After yet another circuit session in strong winds the consensus was that I should be good to go solo if we could get some decent weather.
The forecast for the following day showed a light breeze so I booked the 172 for another session in the hope that I could satisfy Skythrills’ CFI Jeremy Miller that I could take to the air and land again with no one in the right seat.
Without an instructor to fall back on I was thinking clearly and didn’t second-guess myself – I had no choice.
After a restless night I headed down the freeway feeling the burden of a bloke on his way to a third date knowing that an invitation to go inside ‘for coffee’ was on offer – if he played his cards right.
In this case that caveat involved more dual circuits to show I was good to go.
I didn’t get off to a good start. I had to go around a couple of times because I was too high and on one landing Jeremy had to take controls to stop us stalling after a particularly high flare.
What should have been routine was falling in a heap because I nervous – not from of the prospect of going solo, but not doing it. The weather, money and aviation gods were all doing their bit and I was about to let the side down.
That’s when it dawned on me that what has held me back to this point was a lack of self-confidence. I tended to wait for my instructors to tell me what to do rather than back myself to just do it. It needed to stop blaming wind and other factors for my stunted progress and started being a lot more assertive at the controls.
This epiphany and Jeremy’s reassurance improved the situation significantly – my approaches looked better and I overcame my propensity to lower the nose wheel too soon on touch down.
I felt good but when Jeremy told me to call full stop I wasn’t sure whether or not I had blown my chance. Fortunately he too recognised my problem and as we taxied back up the runway he asked if I felt good to do a single solo circuit.
“Hell yes!” I wanted to say.
“Only if you think I’m worthy,” I thought.
“Uhm, yeah,” I said rather meekly, before flashing a big grin to show I actually meant it.
After more words of encouragement Jeremy left the aircraft leaving me with a $150,000 aeroplane and surprising sense of calm – it felt so natural, I could have been in my car.
I pushed the throttle anticipating the shorter take off run with just me on board.
Without an instructor to fall back on I was thinking clearly and didn’t second-guess myself – I had no choice.
I trimmed well on downwind and my final approach was as good as any I’ve done before. My concentrating was intense, but in a fun way, like playing an enjoyable video game, though I still managed to enjoy the view.
I always imagined I’d be bum-clenching scared on my first solo landing – like I was with most of my other landings – but I still felt composed as I eased into the flare reminding myself to keep that nose up and to be ready to throttle out if it got ugly.
I bounced a little but then gently touched down on the grass runway, the stall warning screeching its approval.
As I rolled to a stop I laughed into my microphone out of a sense of sheer joy and satisfaction. This really was as fantastic as everyone said it would be.
The following week I did a quick check flight with Jeremy who noticed the difference in my confidence and decision-making.
As he sent me on my way again it felt a bit more routine, though I felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction that after 30 hours things had finally clicked.
Now I really learn to fly.