“Centralia traffic, Katana Foxtrot Echo Charlie Papa, turning final 28, touch and go, Centralia.”

I had just entered the circuit at one of the small uncontrolled fields near London. No one else was around and I had the whole place to myself to practice circuits. My instructor sat quietly to my right, letting me make all the decisions in his usual way. I would ask quesions and he would respond with: “What do you think?”

We turned final. Too high, too fast. Power to idle, flaps to LDG, start a slip to drop some altitude. It wasn’t working as planned and the runway wasn’t terribly long. I realized I had really botched the approach and had set myself up for a tricky landing.

The next decision was tough: Flaps up one notch, back pressure on the stick, full power. “Centralia traffic, Katana Fox Echo Charlie Papa, overshooting runway 28, left circuit, Centralia.” I had completely screwed up that approach in almost every way and it was the first time I ever had to overshoot during an actual approach. I knew my instructor wouldn’t be too happy and any second I was expecting him to start telling me the things I did wrong. He said, “That was awesome, good job.”

“Wait, what?” I was confused. I just made a series of mistakes which resulted in an unviable landing situation. How was any of that a good job? During the debreif after the flight, he explained what he meant by the comment. Aviation is ruled by A-type personalities: people who need to be right, who are extroverts, competitive, controlling, and impatient. To a certain extent, I possess these traits myself, but hopefully not to any extreme. My instructor explained that the hardest decision to make in aviation is the one where you admit that you screwed up. By overshooting, I admitted to myself and to him that I failed in my attempt to properly land the aircraft, but at the same time, I made the safest possible decison concerning the safety of the aircraft and all passengers onboard. Overshooting is the toughest decision you’ll make in aviation, especially if you’re an A-type personality.

Since that day back in 2007, I’ve definitely come a long way. I’m licensed, have a night rating, almost ready to flight test for my commercial license and will be starting my multi-IFR after that. I’ve forgotten many of my first training flights but that one stuck with me. It was, in my opinion, one of the most important things I’ve learned in aviation.

This is my first post in a while. I’m sorry about the absence but I’ve been busy working on getting my commercial ground school done with (all 80 hours that Transport Canada dictates). The flight school I’m with right now doesn’t currently offer CPL ground school so I’ve had to take it online with Harv’s Air in Manitoba. I wrote a post about this a while ago and I plan on doing a full review of the service they offer. Initial impressions are positive; however, there are many areas for improvement.

The event that sparked interest for this post happened on the weekend. I had planned to do my 300NM cross country which is also one of the requirements TC sets out for all CPL students, but the weather didn’t cooperate. I instead booked a regular solo slot for the afternoon and thought I would try and get up for some airwork practice. None of the flight instructors I have flown with before were at work that day so I needed one of the more senior instructors to sign me out. I’ve never flown with him either so he was a little apprehensive about signing me out. In fact, he told me he wasn’t comfortable letting me go given the current conditions (330/11G21) even though we have a runway 33 in London. The winds weren’t anything I couldn’t handle, but it comes down to liability and the person whose name goes beside yours on the sign out sheet. As an instructor, you have to make decisions that in all likelihood won’t please the student very much. I had just driven almost 30 minutes to get to the airport, did the walk-around and weight and balance and was ready to get going, only to be told (in a nice way) to go home.

Surprisingly, this was the first time this has ever happened in almost 3 years of flight training. I hope to be an instructor after I graduate university so these are situations that I had better get used to. An unhappy student is better than a dead or severely injured student.

Since I last posted, a few interesting things have happened, including getting to fly the DA40 Diamond Star. Hopefully I will have time in the not so distance future to write about it. I also ordered Peter Burkill’s book, 30 Seconds to Impact, which details the events surrounding British Airways flight 38 which experienced double engine failure on final into Heathrow. I’ve started reading it and will post a review when I’m done. Pete was nice enough to sign the inside cover for me too.

Currently, I’m focusing on my CPL written exam and preparing for the flight test. I’m sitting at just under 150 hours total time and hope to test within the next month or two.