Flight Lesson

"Fiat One Sierra Sierra, cleared for takeoff," I replied to the controller. I did what Sunset told me, aligning the airplane with the white dashed line down the runway's centerline. This time, she was letting me run pattern laps all by myself, with her only there for control input and instruction. I felt that I had become rather adept at handling the airplane, and I was even beginning to understand the basic principles of forces applied in flight!

With this newfound confidence, I throttled up and released the brakes, racing down the runway as the small airspeed indicator's needle rose into the green arc. At this indication, I nosed down, then up to bring the airplane into the sky. As soon as the runway was no longer visible, I turned to the right and began the basic pattern lap. A transmission came through the radio from another airplane. "Tower, Fouga One Sierra Whiskey, request aerobatic pass."

Aerobatic pass? What was that?

"One Sierra Whiskey, pass approved. Fiat One Sierra Sierra, be advised that Fouga One Sierra Whiskey is operating in vicinity of airport. Maintain a holding circle north of the field."

"North of the field, One Sierra Sierra," I acknowledged. I left the pattern to the left and began to circle, flying no particular ground track. As I watched for the traffic, I saw the glint of the Fouga's chrome fuselage off my right wing. It was spewing white smoke, which I thought meant that something was seriously wrong with the airplane. I watched with surprise as it rolled over on its left wing, no more than thirty feet off the runway. It suddenly pitched up, entering a sharp left hand turn, the smoke still billowing from its underside. I decided to act then before the pilot hurt herself, or worse. "Uh, One Sierra Whiskey, this is One Sierra Sierra," I said into the microphone. "You have smoke coming from the belly of your jet. I'd advise that you land and have that fixed."

"Ah," the pilot radioed back, which was no more than a slight whisper, "That's aerobatic smoke, miss. That's not a malfunction or anything I need to have fixed. Call it artificial cloud making."

I face palmed as I heard Sunset laughing. Duh. Wouldn't engine smoke be black with fire? I could be so stupid at times! I continued to watch the little jet on its aerobatic routine, seeing it fly at extreme speeds and extreme angles relative to the horizon. After roughly half an hour, it lowered its gear and landed on the runway. As it did so, I continued to circle, waiting for the controllers to acknowledge my presence.

"Fiat One Sierra Sierra, cleared to land."

"Clear to land, One Sierra Sierra." I joined the pattern, lowered the gear, and throttled back to idle, dipping the right wing to put the airplane on the correct glide path to the runway. "Alright," Sunset said, "Request the option."

"The what?"

"The option. Request this, and you can make your landing a stop and go, a touch and go, or a full stop."

I nodded and got on the radio. "Tower, Fiat One Sierra Sierra requests the option."

"One Sierra Sierra, cleared for the option." I continued in, keeping an eye on the runway threshold. It rapidly disappeared beneath the nose, right when I expected it to. At this, I began to gently set the aircraft on its main wheels when suddenly, the tiny trainer rolled itself to the right. I felt one wheel hit the asphalt, then the other, before it finally began to settle on its tailwheel. Suddenly, the right wing lifted off the ground, prompting me to throttle up and make a go around. "One Sierra Sierra, going around," I radioed. I let the airplane become light once more, cursing my own stupidity as it rose off the runway once again.

"That's okay," Sunset reassured me from the rear cockpit. "My first few landings weren't perfect either."

I tried again, and the same thing happened. It bounced itself back into the sky. "Taildraggers are harder to land," Sunset said as I performed the climb out once more.

A third time, and it still bounced itself back into the sky. Now I was getting frustrated. "Land already," I muttered.

"It's the angle, Twilight, your nose is too flat when you approach. Landing isn't easy."

I wiped a tear from my eyes and made a fourth, more determined approach. This time, I throttled back, nosed down on final...

And managed to ease the aircraft down onto its landing gear. I expected it to rise back into the air, but much to my surprise, it stayed on the ground. I smiled slightly and taxied off the runway onto a taxiway after being told to monitor the ground frequency. I turned the aircraft onto the main taxiway and began to taxi back to Sunset's hangar to shut the aircraft down. When we arrived, she simply said, "Hold on" and popped open her canopy. She rapped on mine and asked for my logbook, which I handed her. She signed something in it before telling me to shut down, which I did before she handed it back to me.

After helping her move the plane back to the hangar and lock up for the day, she offered me a ride back to the gate. Not wanting to disappoint my friend, I agreed to her suggestion. She decided it would be fun to show off and rocketed down the ramp in between the hangars, causing me to hold on to her tighter and bury my face in her jacket. I hated motorcycles with a passion, that was for sure.

We reached the gate, and she complimented me on doing a good job today. "I know it isn't easy, but it will come with time. You just need more practice is all."

"Thanks, Sunset. I appreciate this."

"Of course, Twi, anytime."