It’s
6:00AM. You know that brilliant moment when you wake up and for a split second
your day is empty? You have no plans. Your biggest plans are that you have
none. Then, to your horror, you realize that everything in the WORLD is taking
place today? Well my check ride was today. I immediately get this nasty feeling in my
stomach. It’s that feeling that normally comes when you’re nervous about giving
a presentation or you’ve eaten WAY too many burritos. I’m assuming it wasn’t
the latter. I brush my teeth and make my way downstairs. I can barely make the
steps considering the different books, bags, and binders I was trying to take
with me. Breakfast or not? I can’t decide whether I’m even hungry. The shear
volume of emotions swirling around in my brain don’t allow for such an
unimportant thoughts to permeate my synapses. I grab a breakfast bar and go.
I make my
way to my mom’s work. There I printed my weather charts. Weather Progs, Surface
Analysis, Weather Depiction… Blah blah blah. Turns out, these would be of
little use to me considering that two of those are only valid for three hours. I
updated everything when I arrived.
I make my
drive to Tri-Cities. An hour and a half. That allowed me to think about
everything a little too much I now realize. If you know me, I’m one to over
analyze every situation. That applies to taking tests as well as mundane tasks
such as peeling an orange. I somehow find a way to make things incredibly
difficult on myself. I pulled into a gas station about five minutes out of Tri-Cities Airport. I used their facilities and
grabbed a water to help me squeeze down this breakfast bar that I was dreading.
As I somehow managed to get the bar down, I picked up my ‘Private Pilot Oral
Exam Guide’, and began to review with the time that I had left. I realized what
I was doing was silly; idiotic even. If I didn’t know it now, I wasn’t going to
know it when my DPE asked. I threw the booklet in the back of my car, finished
my water and bar, and headed down the road.
Those last five minutes felt like
what I imagine the inmates feel when they walk down death row for the final
time. I obviously wouldn’t be sentenced to death if I failed, but I realized
that I would either leave with or without my license. It may not make
sense to you, but if you’ve experienced a critique from hell, you understand
that harrowing feeling that I’m describing to you. Those last few minutes I
felt as if I was taking mental pictures. “Enjoy this time. It is truly the calm
before the storm.” Then it slipped in. “What are the three phases of a thunderstorm?” I laughed at myself,
gathered my things, and locked the car.
My DPE greeted me with a big grin
as she handed me a piece of paper with a Short-Field Takeoff and Landing
problem. “Thanks,” with a period, not an exclamation. She insured my logbook
was ready to roll and that my electronic application was submitted correctly. I
made sure my wind correction angle was still up to date and completed my sample
takeoff and landing distance problem.
I learned a couple of things today
other than how truly terrifying being critiqued is. I can answer questions
regarding definitions without a problem. When it came to scenario based
questions, it takes me a while to catch on. She sat back in her chair. It
squeaked. I notice weird things like this. “So Mr. St. Clair, if you and your
friends land at an airport that’s runway is 1,700 feet long and you run the
numbers to insure that you can land in that distance, but for some reason
running the takeoff numbers slips your mind how are you going to get out?” I
had not the slightest clue as to what she was looking for. She said, “Sit on
it. You have as much time as you need. Let me know when you have an answer.”
After a minute or two, I conjured up an answer. I told her I would tell
everyone to get out of the aircraft and grab their luggage. At this point I
would takeoff and burn off some fuel so that we would be able to possibly make
it out of the strip. She was satisfied with this answer, but she wanted to see
if the math worked out. It didn’t.
She wanted another answer. After another minute or two of just sitting their
running through my available information, I came up with something else. I had
been supplied with the outside air temperature. It was the only variable in the
equation that I had some kind of control over. I explained that we would have
to wait on the field until the outside air temperature dropped to __ degrees
Celsius. That is what she was looking for! I supplied her with the math to back
it up, and we were on our way. After she finished up her questions about
airspace weather minimums she said, “I could drill you forever on these
questions, but you have shown me that you demonstrate the proper knowledge
concerning flight planning and the required knowledge set by the FAA.” That was
a good feeling for sure, but it wasn’t even close to being over.
She made me a sandwich. Okay, it
was just a half. I couldn’t even eat all of it. I was so nervous. While trying
to stomach my ham sandwich she was talking to me about how much she loved
salsa. I agreed. “A food group to its own,” she said. She sealed the jar of
salsa and we made our way to the plane.
Before startup I gave her my best
pre-flight briefing. No. It wasn’t your… “Ladies and Gentlemen this is your
captain speaking.” It was your… “ We have three exits aboard this aircraft. One
is to our left, one to our right, and if my fat ass can make it, there is a
cargo door in the back.” I had her laughing. If she’s relaxed, then I’m
relaxed. After getting cleared VFR to the north at or below 6,500ft we
completed our run-up. All was well. She liked that I treated her as a passenger
under certain circumstances. She said that I picked my times well. After all, I
was the pilot in command. I completed my short-field take off over a 50ft
obstacle. We rotated around 50 knots and we were off! It then hit me. This is really why I fly. It’s terribly
nerve-wracking to be critiqued in any situation, but you can’t forget that
flying is truly your passion. We got on course for our mock cross-country
flight to Blue Ashe Airport.
I knew I would survive this day after all.
After completing my simulated
instrument work, she got me lost. I cross-triangulated our position and she
gave me fifteen minutes to have the aircraft on the ground. I gave her a rough
heading and my plan of action for my approach. I chose Hawkins County
Airport for my diversion.
I set up for a soft/short field landing and entered a left base for runway 25.
I set it down nice and soft right past the numbers. Something was funky. No!
Not the fact that I actually landed like I was supposed to. The nose gear
wasn’t absorbing any of the shock. After a quick shutdown, we checked to see
what was going on. Sure enough the nose gear strut was completely depressed. No
wonder we felt every bump once the nose lowered to the tarmac. My DPE, being
the incredibly resourceful person that she is, knew the mechanic at that
airport by his first and last name. We planned to bring the aircraft back to
the airport after we finished the rest of my check ride. At that point we would
be picked up by my examiner’s boyfriend. We departed and completed all of the
required maneuvers. The only maneuver I felt like I could have done better was
the turn around a point. Something about that one sets me on edge. Apparently it
passed practical test standards so we were good to go! I landed back at Hawkins
where the aircraft went in for maintenance.
My examiner pointed out the
restroom to me as she made her way to the women’s. Well? She hadn’t said the
words yet. In the three minutes that I was in the bathroom I had convinced
myself she was cooling me off right before she told me I had failed. See what I
do to myself? I’m so cruel! It’s ridiculous! I get out of the bathroom and sit
down on one of the FBO’s large sofas. She exits and does the same. She them
makes small talk with me about things that were completely nonrelated to the
check ride. Somewhere amongst the non-flight chatter she said, “Oh! By the way!
Congratulations, you passed!” I composed myself. I didn’t scream until I was in
the car on the way home.
Her boyfriend picked us up.
Fortunately we didn’t have to drive back. The aircraft was going to be finished
in a relatively short amount of time. She still wanted to go get something to
drink so we made our way into Surgoinsville,
Tennessee. We found this little
tobacco outlet that luckily sold drinks as well. This business was about as
shady as they come. Later my examiner told me the only reason she came in with
me was because she thought I might get kidnapped. That and also the fact that
neither she nor her boyfriend had any money on them! This was no big deal. I
was more than willing to pay for a drink and a snack for the person who had
just given me my private pilot’s license! We entered this establishment. You
know what a house looks like when it’s being moved into or out of? Well it
looked like that. Boxes of tobacco and toys and fruit and weird lady hygiene
items were littered everywhere. Might I mention they weren’t actually moving as
far as I know. It just looked like that. There was a woman, who could have
easily been five hundred years old, purchasing the WHOLE box of Beachnut chewing
tobacco. My examiner kept shooting me strange looks that I would assume meant
something like, “Oh my God, where the hell are we?” At that moment a fat man in
camo-crocs and a t-shirt that was thirty times two small for him, emerges from
the back. I got the idea that he owned the establishment. But really, who would
let their employees come into work looking that THAT!? He of course inquired as
to where we came from. My examiner is a businesswoman at heart. She ended up
giving this man a business card. We made our way back toward the airport and
departed for Tri-Cities.
July 26, 2012 was undeniably the
best day of my entire life. The experiences aside from the check ride will stay
with me throughout my entire life. Who can say their check ride was as
interesting as mine? I appreciate you being interested in my studies and
reading this monster of a ‘short-story’.
We’ll see you in the air,
Sidney
