“Sixty five knots, 1300 RPM, two hundred feet to go; I have the runway made, looking good.” Ok back on the throttle, easy….easy….time to flare…..there’s the picture…hold it hold it. We’re down. Now that was a good landing. I am really getting the hang of this.”

“Ok! That was a great landing,” said the flight instructor. “Pull over here by the edge of the runway.”

I taxi the airplane to the side of the runway. Jeff opens the door and starts to get out. With one leg dangling out the door, he turns toward me.

“I want you to go up and shoot three landings. Two touch and goes, then a full stop.”

Getting out of the plane, he turns to walk away. Stops, turns back and sticks his head in the cockpit.

“Oh!” he says, “And Julie.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to pick me up, afterwards.” Smiling he tells me. “You will do well. You have the skills and ability. Good luck.”

He closes the door and walks toward the edge of the runway leaving me alone in the airplane.

While taxing toward the beginning of the runway apprehensiveness and excitement vie for control over me.

I think, “This is it! I will finally be a pilot. My first solo.”

Nervousness grips me and my mind races to think of everything I have to do. I read the checklist with a new thoroughness. I no longer have Jeff watching over my shoulder ready to correct any mistakes or mental lapses.

“Let’s see, Throttle 1700 RPM, Check magnetos.. 50 to 125 RPM drop on each. That looks like 80 RPM. OK, good.”

Slowly and deliberately, I check each item. Now it is time to go. I can delay no longer. My stomach informs me of the finality of what I am about to do. Apprehensively but with deliberation, I slowly push the throttle forward. The engine roars and the airplane starts moving, slowly then accelerating faster and faster.

My eyes dart from airspeed indicator, to the runway, to engine instruments.

“Forty knots, I am two feet left of centerline.”

Unconsciously, I press slightly on the right rudder pedal to move back to the center of the runway.

“Engine instruments are all in the green.”

“My God! I am already at 55 knots” I think re-scanning the airspeed indicator..

I ease back on the control yoke and … I am flying!

“You did it girl!” I think as I grin from ear to ear. “Wouldn’t Grandmother be proud of me? After all I am named after her.”

My thoughts continue, as I remember the stories she told me of her days flying airplanes during World War II, as a female ferry pilot.

“Now, all you have to do is land this thing!”

Quickly, I stop my musing and focus on flying. Four hundred felt above the ground I make a left turn 90 degrees to the runway and continue to climb. Around 700 feet above the ground, I am far enough away from the runway to make another left turn and enter the downwind leg of the landing pattern.

The habits that Jeff instilled in me through 15 hours of flight training and numerous hours of ground training become second nature and take over as I prepare for my first solo landing. I knew it was important that I set up properly for the landing. If I didn’t start from the right altitude and airspeed, I never would be able to land correctly. I would be either too fast or too high, as I neared the touchdown zone.

Looking out the window, I see the runway off the edge of the left wing.

“Looking good, Julie.”

I was eight hundred feet above the ground, right where I wanted to be. Airspeed 80 knots and engine RPMs were also good at 1500. I started the before landing checklist…

Rolling out on final with the runway directly in front of me I saw that I was a little high. Pulling back a little on the throttle the nose drops. The runway gets bigger and bigger in the windshield as I get closer and closer, lower and lower.

Jeff always talked of seeing the picture. The picture is an image of the runway that you see just before you begin the flare. As I get closer to the runway and touch down, the mental picture in my brain begins to match what I was seeing outside of the airplane. When it looks right, I begin to pull back on the control yoke to slow the descent toward the earth with a flare.

I am just a little high. The airplane stops flying about a foot off the ground. THUMP!

I feel it hit and bounce. I am flying again. THUMP! This time the airplane and I stay on the ground.

As the trees and grass fly by in my peripheral vision I ease the throttle forward. The engine accelerates and I am flying again.

“One down, two more to go.”

What freedom! Once again, I catch myself grinning like a silly fool. I am glad no one can see me. My heart bubbles forth a froth of joy and my soul flies along beside me. The plane becomes my magic carpet to a new world…

The last two landings went by like flickering images in a dream. I scarcely remember anything about them, except for the actual landings. My arms and feet, acting on their own like some built in autopilot commanded the airplane safely to earth and once again, back into the freedom of the sky.

Oh, one more thing, I was halfway back to the hanger when I remembered Jeff. I had to go back and get him. He said that when I taxied by, I was grinning so hard, I looked like I was a model for a toothpaste commercial.

I do know one thing. I will never forget my first solo.

Jennifer Ann

Copyright 2003