Michael’s Flight Training Diary

Time flown today: 1h 05m

Total time so far: 23h 50m

Today was my first time away from the circuit in over three months! The detail was steep turns, and the overhead join. The departure was straightforward, although the instructor later pointed out that I incorrectly set the DI in the pre-takeoff checks: apparently, I set it to 200 (one notch to the left of the 210 numbers, the same as the compass) when I meant 220. I have a hazy recollection that I might have initially set it correctly, thought it was incorrect, and then gone and broken it… and I recall a generally superior sense of being in control at the time. It’s a dangerous state of mind!

We departed towards Banbury, and soon found fairly dense haze, which with the low sun rendered westwards flight visibility fairly marginal for VMC, if my recollection of Air Law is correct. It also completely obscured the horizon, which would make learning steep turn technique tricky: but we climbed up to 4500ft at the top of the haze layer, and suddenly it gave us a well-defined horizon to practice with. So, the procedure for the steep turn:

1. Good lookout: direction of turn, ahead, opposite direction, ahead, direction of turn again, back ahead, and go…
2. Roll into turn, and add a bit of throttle when rolling past 30 degrees of bank
3. Add and maintain substantial back pressure to keep the nose at a good attitude, check the balance and adjust rudder, check the altimeter, check the DI, check the ASI
4. Look out, to maintain external orientation and check for traffic.
5. Repeat 3 and 4 until about 20 degrees from the desired heading, checking a different instrument each time you look inside the cockpit. If the aircraft is descending, add a bit more power and/or increase back pressure.
6. Roll out and promptly reduce power while doing so.

It’s easier than I expected. It needs a hell of a lot of back pressure to avoid descending, a great deal of careful attention to attitude and instruments, it tends to roll out of the bank and I need to make more of an effort to lean forward and look out into the direction of the turn for traffic. But other than that, I pretty much nailed it first time - lacking finesse but essentially correct. And it’s *loads* of fun, especially holding it on at 60 degrees. With the fairly marginal view of the ground, the brilliant low sunshine illuminating the haze and cloud-layer I was level with the top of, it was a beautiful and fundamentally alien environment to be whizzing around in, one that I’ve only viewed before from a window-seat in an airliner. It’s flying.

Next up, the instructor demonstrated what happens when it’s done wrong. If the nose drops, the speed increases, and increasing back-pressure just tightens it and pulls the nose lower… the airspeed increases past 100 knots, the engine (with a fixed propeller) speeds towards the redline, and the altimeter rapidly unwinds… it’s a spiral dive! Recovering incorrectly from this may result in the aeroplane reaching the ground without its wings, so it’s important (but easy) to get it right:

1. Throttle to idle
2. Wings level, rudder neutral
3. Gently level off (pulling back too firmly could cause a dynamic stall), and put the aircraft into a gentle climb
4. As the airspeed drops through 100 knots, apply cruise power and stabilise it in the cruise attitude

Since I did this in my first ever trial lesson in Cornwall last year, it’s familiar and easy. The PA28 seems much more benign and gentle to recover than a C152: without any back pressure, the aircraft had levelled itself by the time I’d rolled the wings level, presumably a consequence of neutral trimmer position at a very high airspeed.

Nonetheless, it was still plenty of fun, especially once the instructor put us into a more extreme spiral dive. I have a hunch that I could develop an aerobatics habit.

So back towards the field, for an overhead join. I recall getting confused about this when doing them in Microsoft Flight Sim one time, but Richard presented a brilliant and simple method to avoid getting it wrong:

1. When a few miles out, make the call to Approach and request an overhead join. Note the runway and circuit direction. Let’s say we’re given 01 right-hand circuit.
2. Descend to the joining height (typically about 1000ft above circuit height, above the ATZ). At Oxford it’s 2300ft QNH. The circuit is right-hand, so we must keep the airfield on the right, and make every turn to the right. Aim roughly to fly along the perimeter of the airfield, just far enough away to be able to see the runways (more tricky in a right-hand circuit if you’re sat on the left).
3. Make the overhead call, and fly the perimeter of the airfield at joining height. This implies right turns.
4. When we see the runway numbers for our runway - 01 in this case - the correct way up in front of the wing (i.e. we’re flying perpendicular to the desired runway near the threshold), it means we’re entering the dead-side, so it’s time to descend.
5. Descend to circuit height while making a gentle 180 degree turn to bring us back over the opposite threshold. Unless ATC has specifically asked us to report downwind, call “descending dead-side”. Have a good look at the airfield, the signals, the runways, and the circuit traffic. Plan out over the ground where the rest of the circuit is going to be, pick some landmarks as aiming-points for downwind and base legs. Watch out for any fast-climbing traffic taking off that might conflict when crossing the upwind threshold.
6. Level off at circuit height, cross the upwind threshold, and pick an aiming point to make sure that the wind doesn’t blow us downwind. Keep a good eye out for the line of the downwind leg, and make a nice sharp 90 degree turn onto it.
7. As a circuit: call downwind, downwind checks, base, configure descent, final and land.

And it all went well, fairly straightforward. I put my thumb on the flaps lever button when deploying them (car handbrake-style) and wasn’t sure whether I’d deployed one or two stages: took a couple of seconds of looking out the window to decide it was two stages. If uncertain, I could always have retracted them and done it again - I had loads of time and height. Approach was bang-on, landing was 8/10: great flare, great hold-off, just dropped it fractionally too firmly when it finally stopped flying. As Jonathan pointed out yesterday, I could have added a nudge of power to mitigate that.

That was the most fun and least demanding lesson I’ve had in ages! Next up: practice forced landings. Time to get the book out…

Dual time today: 0h 30m

Solo time today: 0h 40m

Total time so far: 22h 45m

Another evening with great flying conditions - light wind and broken cloud at about 4000ft. Just what I need to get the last half-hour of solo circuits in the bag. It’s all pretty straight-forward now. Yet another opinion expressed on what to do with the fuel-pump and landing light during the circuit. Today, the instructor opined that we should leave them on all the way through. OK, then.

Not a great deal to say, really. Two circuits with the instructor, then four by myself. I can fly an accurate circuit without too much effort. I fly a stable and accurate approach three times out of four, and the wonky ones are always rescued and spot-on by three hundred feet. I fixed my problems getting trimmed for the right approach speed, and was nailing 75 knots in the last few (solo) circuits. I need to be wary of trying to make radio calls when I’m concentrating on a manouevre, because I might forget to respond - I should wait at least until I’m rolling out of the turn to final before I call, not least because a lapse of attention here can be especially fatal.

I also found that I was feeling noticeably stressed. I guess it’s because my stress and concentration level has dropped enough for me to actually be aware of it when I’m flying solo now. Felt a bit spaced-out briefly, but gentle breathing fixed the problem.

So, the landings. First time, I didn’t raise the nose properly, but not bad. Second time, held the nose up for some distance down the runway, and plonked it down in a workmanlike if slightly-inelegant fashion. Did similar for the first three solo landings, which I’d give 6/10, and the last I held off quite a long way but was slightly too high when the aeroplane finally stopped flying. So 7/10. The instructor suggested that if the aeroplane is slightly too high when it’s about to stop flying, after a long hold-off, just add a tiny dab of power to soften the drop, even holding the power on while the aircraft touches down.

And with more than the requisite two hours of solo circuit time, that is the end of circuit-bashing! Hooray. I haven’t flown more than two miles from the airfield since the 21st May, so I’m really looking forward to getting out and about. Let’s see what the future holds…

Dual time today: 0h 30m

Solo time today: 0h 30m

Total time so far: 21h 35m

A beautiful and perfect evening for flying today: CAVOK and wind light and variable, always less than 5 knots. A perfect opportunity to nail these landings and get some good solo time in.

With the last slot of the day, time is a bit limited. I had to be on the ground by 18:50Z, otherwise the time didn’t count. So I waited for Golf Juliet to come back in… and waited. Decided to go out and watch for it coming in, see what landings look like from the outside. It’s been ages now. Finally, it appears in the circuit, on final, comes to land, all looking pretty good… floats… bounces… higher… and the engine roars back into life for a go-around. Gah! That’s my lesson that’s disappearing there!

But aviation is full of these annoyances. Next time round, my aeroplane comes home properly, and it’s my turn. Fortunately, my checks and taxying don’t need a great deal of thought or effort now, and we made good progress. Feared we’d be delayed further when a HS125 snuck behind us for the runway as we pulled-over for power checks, and waited in front of us while he copied his departure clearance. Fortunately, he was more on the ball than the confused Cessna driver last time this happened, and took off immediately.

A beautiful evening, the sun sinking and the air wonderfully smooth. Had enough brain power spare to chat quite comfortably to the instructor about how wonderful flying is, and it only once led to a significant deviation from the correct circuit profile (gained a hundred feet on downwind). The circuit still needs concentration to maintain my bearings and keep the aircraft correctly trimmed, but it rarely goes wrong in any way now. The only problem is that I’m forgetting to apply carb heat on throttle-back until shortly after the event. I need to focus on that. But what’s more important to focus on than a ten-second delay in applying carb heat, is getting the landings right.

And that I managed well. First one was damn good, probably the smoothest I’ve done yet. The main point is that I remembered to bring the nose up to the correct attitude, but I did it at the right height and the right rate: so instead of launching me back into the air, I was sufficiently slow and low (in ground effect) that raising the nose just kept it level and slowed it down, letting it sink imperceptibly slowly onto the tarmac. Absolutely perfect.

On the second circuit, the instructor altered my “downwind touch-and-go” call to “downwind to land” - time to go solo. There was another aircraft on long final as we did so, so on base the instructor offers ATC the option to put us onto grass runway 03, instead of tarmac 01. We were established on final for 01 by the time this was resolved, and I hadn’t landed on grass before - but in the benign conditions, it all seemed fine. Just follow the 01 approach, and turn right at the appropriate point (about two hundred feet) to land on 03 instead. The approach was a bit low - the tops of the trees seemed alarmingly close - but it was perfectly corrected with a dab of power. There was a most wonderful sense of being in control, of being able to quickly and gracefully rescue and correct any errors that came along. Flared nicely onto the grass, it was much easier to judge than I expected in the absence of the runway shape - but floated too high. A dab of power to stabilise it, set up the hold-off again and gently pull the power away to get the sink rate… nose up… gently… and softly down onto the grass, pulling up smartly right in front of PFT’s parking area. That was bloody good.

The instructor hopped out, and left me to it. Three circuits. There were no nerves, no sense of drama. A great deal of focus on the challenging and potentially dangerous task at hand, but a matter-of-fact sense of competence that would clearly get me through, no matter what. Made the taxy call with barely a thought, and set off for the runway. Handling the aircraft on the ground is almost as intuitive as driving, now. Power checks, up to the hold, clear for takeoff… one last pause to convince myself that everything is OK. Yup. Let’s go!

The circuit needed concentration to maintain my bearings and get the trim right, but it was all correct. Set up for a great approach, even with the distraction of the sun in my eyes on base leg obscuring my view of the instruments as much as my view of the world ahead. Though I still forgot carb heat until half-way down base. Nailed the trim for 75 knots in the descent, set everything up perfectly, and brought it in to land. Floated a shade too high and brought it in with a slightly inelegant bump - but not too bad. Let’s go again.

The second circuit was pretty much a repeat of the first. Competent.

The third circuit was different. Shortly after takeoff, my attitude changed. I sat back in the seat, and stopped straining to see over the cowling. There was a sense of familiarity and comfort, as I held a perfect 75-knot 15-degrees bank turn to crosswind, a quick look behind to the right to check the position of the runway, rolled out exactly on 100 degrees, levelled off and trimmed the aircraft bang-on for circuit height before the turn downwind. This is a new experience. Called downwind to land, got the checks done, and had a look around. The sun was getting low in the golden minutes, and Oxford looked incredibly pretty, the JR standing out like a huge Egyptian monolithic monument in the golden sun. Judged the turn to base perfectly, the field between Yarnton and the railway pivoting under my starboard wing. Flying is awesome. I even remembered carb heat.

So now onto final. Just like all (but one of) the approaches this evening, it’s bang-on, stable from over a mile out, the numbers never budging against the windshield. When I get it right, the outer PAPIs just turn pink at about 300 feet. Gently power-back and level off just right, and I seem to have a good sense of height from my peripheral vision this time… nearly down, so pull back a bit more… nose up higher… sinking slightly but I’m so, so low… more elevator… level… more elevator… I’ve gone over a hundred metres without touching… elevator nearly at the stop… and with a gentle bump and wobble, I finally contact the ground.

That’s how to do it. It’s all about the hold-off. Profoundly satisfying.

And I even had enough brain-power left to respond sensibly to ATC, when they asked me to hold short of runway 29 to let a waiting bizjet on in front of me, to backtrack ready for a 19 takeoff.

Just need to make another half hour of solo circuits, and I can move on! The solo time today was exactly what I needed, to consolidate the judgement of the flare and hold-off. With a bit of luck, I’ll be able to get it right in more challenging conditions now. Let’s see what happens next!

Flying today: 0h 45m

Flown so far: 20h 35m

I didn’t think I’d go flying today, with the wind 10-15 knots gusting 25, and a band of persistent heavy rain inbound and imminent. But the wind was actually straight down runway 19 this morning, and with a 1700ft cloud base, PFT persuaded me to come along.

The circuits were a challenge, but I flew them fairly well. Climb-out took an age, the aircraft being bounced around quite heavily, and we achieved circuit height at the turn to crosswind: normally it’s not achieved until early on downwind. Crosswind and base legs needed about 20 degrees of crab, but that was no problem. My first downwind leg cut into the circuit somewhat, but otherwise it’s all familiar and practised ground.

I was getting far too high on the approaches, though, and had to cut the power and put in full flap to get down onto the runway. The approach was bumpy, and it was taking quite a lot of mental effort just to keep the wings level and hold centreline - so speed control wasn’t great (I kept hitting 80 knots when trimmed, not 75), the descent profile was downright ropey, and the final approach was consequently reminiscent of a slow-motion kamikaze. I completely lost my judgement of height in the hold-off, feeling I was always either too high (actually about 3 feet!) or far too high (actually about 10 feet), and I completely failed to recall or judge the nose attitude in the flare. The instructor had to intervene on every landing. The third circuit was a go-around from a couple of hundred feet - though I don’t understand why, it seemed no more ropey than the others. After that, I decided to land, since I wasn’t making any progress and getting increasingly tired. My last approach was significantly better than the others, and the instructor decided to introduce a maneouvre he called the “short hop”: just flying the aircraft level and very low along the runway for a while, before setting it down to land. But I really didn’t get it, and followed the instructor through as he took control. I felt that it was needing some pretty major control inputs to keep it wings-level and near the ground in the strong and gusty wind - I didn’t stand a chance of focussing sufficiently to get the “picture” when fighting to keep the aircraft upright and going in the right direction.

And what’s more, I’ve started forgetting carb heat again!

In retrospect, today’s lesson was not hugely useful in terms of solo circuit consolidation: I would never have stood a chance of going solo, anyway. But it was interesting and probably valuable to experience the effects of a strong headwind. Let’s hope for some more benign weather soon, so I can effectively practice landings on my own.

Hours flown today: 1h 00m

Hours flown so far: 19h 50m

It looks like our brief two-week summer is ending today: pressure is dropping, it’s clouding over and the wind is picking up. Didn’t think I’d get airborne today, but the wind was 10-15 knots at about 240 (though a bit variable) - so Paul asked if I fancied a bit of crosswind. Well, if there’s an instructor with me, it can’t hurt. Great. I wasn’t really in the mood for solo after the traumas of my last session, but the idea of a good number of slightly challenging circuits with an instructor was just the thing.

Had yet another instructor this evening - this chap seemed particularly switched-on, keen to expedite things effectively without taking shortcuts, and pointed out a number of new things over the course of the lesson. But anyway, we set out. I must take more care to *listen* to what ATC tells me on the radio: the problem is that it takes so much brain power getting bigger calls right that I forget to listen! Anyway, I didn’t do too badly. Did a splendid takeoff, corrected neatly for drift, and found (as I realised when I looked at Google Maps recently) that the extended centreline for 19 is actually quite a long way to the west of Yarnton. I should also remember to turn the landing light on/off at the same time as the fuel pump: off at 1000ft agl after take-off, on at downwind checks. The climb, crosswind and downwind were generally accurate: a bit of altitude deviation sometimes during the checks, but mostly well under control and with more finesse than ever before.

The first approach and landing wasn’t too bad, though I was a bit low. It took me most of base to get configured and stable on the approach, though. So on the second circuit, the instructor taught me a new technique to get the approach configured more quickly:

• Immediately before the base turn, pull throttle back to 1800 rpm and apply carb heat
• Maintain altitude and immediately turn base - needs a fair bit of back pressure
• On straightening out on base, put out two stages of flap, and hey presto: speed should have dropped to 75 knots!
• Drop the nose and trim for 75.

The aerodynamics of the level turn bleed the speed off much faster, giving the whole of the base leg to consider the descent profile, check for traffic on long final, and keep an eye on the runway for turning final. It’s a neat technique, and one that I imagine is particularly useful with slippery modern aircraft.

The crosswind didn’t bother me that much on final - getting the crab angle right is second nature. The modest wind-shear was a little bumpy, but I noticed my correcting inputs were rapid and automatic. Finals were all middling or good, and always rescued to put me over the fence at the right height and speed. I had enough brain-power to check the runway’s motion relative to the water marks on the windscreen on approach, and my correcting throttle inputs were generally spot-on.

The one exception to all this smoothness was the last approach, which was a glide - and a total mess. I was confused about the procedure, probably because I was tired, and I went to put in flap as soon as I cut the power. Error! I struggled to keep the aircraft trimmed at 75, overshot the centreline and had to weave back (losing loads more height in the process), and when the instructor finally suggested I put in two stages of flap, we rapidly started to lose too much height - which fortunately I clocked immediately, and reduced flap to one stage. We were still way too low on the last quarter mile, and had I been solo I’d have bailed and gone around, but the instructor forced me to keep the throttle shut… as we just scraped in over the hedge, barely made the tarmac and put the wheels down on the line. That was fun - definitely useful to sample the aspect of *just* making the runway! In subsequent discussion with the instructor, I discovered that the idea is to keep the aircraft clean at 75 knots until one is certain the centre of the airfield can be made: at which point, put flap in to increase the rate of descent as required to hit the numbers. I’ll remember that for next time.

So, the landings - it’s what this session was all about, as far as I was concerned. On the first one, the instructor was telling me to pull back and hold it, I thought we were several feet too high… and then the wheels bumped down! That was a misjudgement, then. I was flaring a little too high once or twice: I think I’ve flared too high about as many times as I’ve flared too low in the last couple of lessons, which suggests I’ve lost my “picture” of the right flare height! But nonetheless, apart from the first landing, the instructor didn’t intervene again. I floated definitely too high one time, but a nudge of throttle, and we were soon back at the right place, and touched down gently. The other useful thing that the instructor kept emphasising: all the control inputs, including throttle, must be *very* gentle and gradual in the flare and hold-off. Nudge the throttle back rpm by rpm, be so gentle with the pitch control. I guess it helps avoid pilot-induced oscillation, and makes things smoother. It works well.

Two other things I was consistently getting slightly wrong: I didn’t get the nose quite high enough in the hold-off, I was landing too flat. I should have had the nose slightly nearer the horizon. And I was omitting to kick off the crab against the crosswind, when stabilised in the hold and about to touch down. I must remember these for next time.

But - the landings were safe and I’ve got a better feel for how to correct a botched hold-off now. A couple of the landings were particularly smooth. I feel that I’ve fixed the problems I encountered in the second solo, I’m still remembering the carb heat for descent, and I’m now well-prepared to get a good number of solo circuits in next time.

Job’s a good’un.

Hours flown today:  0h35m dual, 0h30m solo

Total hours flown:  18h 55m

My brain hurts. Today was really, really tough, and I didn’t do very well. Well, not that badly - I bent neither myself nor the aeroplane (just) - but I made an awful lot of mistakes.

It started off well this evening. Two circuits with a new instructor - we got underway rapidly, I made a few very minor errors, but it was basically good. Very frustrating waiting at the hold for the runway though, while a visiting pilot decided he’d wait until hold A1 before the runway before trying to figure out what his IFR departure clearance was, and realising very slowly that Botley isn’t marked on the map, while I burned a tenner waiting at A2 for him to sort himself out…

So we got airborne, and all was well. My directional control on the centreline is bang-on now. I remembered to select carb heat before throttling back, both times. The first approach was a little wobbly, but well-recovered to conclude in by far my best landing yet: held it off for a long time at just the right height and touched down gently, just lacking quite enough rudder to kick straight in the slight crosswind. Second time around, the instructor changed my “downwind touch and go” call to a “downwind to land” - great. Good approach, pretty good landing too. The instructor said that I should try to hold off for as long as possible, instead of “trying to land it”: well actually, I was trying to do exactly what he described, but I haven’t quite got the feel yet. Point noted, though. Back to PFT then, and here we go again… a four-circuit sortie.

The airfield is slightly less hectic now, and departure is easy. But on reaching circuit height on crosswind, things start to go wrong. I throttle back before levelling off, speed dropping to sixty knots as I recover the error. I’m ten degrees off heading for crosswind. I fail to trim properly on downwind, gaining three hundred feet. Onto base, I overfly Yarnton (another error), base is too short, have to get rid of height quickly, get the approach moderately under control, speed control not brilliant (wandering anywhere between 70 and 80 knots), botch the flare, hold off too high, and plonk the aeroplane down from the stall rather more firmly than I’d like, some way off the centreline.

Next circuit, things go a little better. I get the circuit a bit more square, height deviations not quite so severe, make the downwind call rather late, but otherwise do a good base and final. Concentrating hard on making final correct, the approach is looking quite nice and stable now… but I forget to put the call in until I’m half-way along final, and now somebody’s nattering complex messages on the radio… runway gets closer… still waiting to get a word in edgeways, it’s pretty marginal for the “if a student is not cleared by 500ft go around” rule… put the call in at the last moment… no answer. Silence from the tower… I’m only 300ft now. “Going around, Golf Alpha Tango”. Tower acknowledges immediately. There’s a fine approach wasted.

I was probably three hundred feet when I went around. Throttle open, aircraft was keener to climb than it should have been causing the airspeed to drop alarmingly, but I arrested the situation at 60 knots: nose down, carb heat off, first flaps up, and brought it back under control into a 75-knot climb with no flaps. I’m now in a completely unfamiliar situation, completely alone: I’ve never done a go-around from final approach. I recall that it’s good form to move over to the dead side, so I weave to the left: but now all my visual references have gone, because from the left seat, the runway is invisible. I take a guess at a sensible position, maintain the climb, and look out for the big chimney for the crosswind turn. It’s a lot further below than usual! So back to the routine. Turn downwind, do a better job of trimming and an efficiently-managed downwind leg. Convince myself that all really is in order, and allow myself a few seconds to look at the pretty view until it’s time to turn base. Of course, I lose a hundred feet in the process. Turn base, overshoot the heading, turn back outwards while re-configuring to give myself some final, but still too high again, try to get a steady 75 knots back, lose height, and just as I turn final someone comes on the radio with a lengthy en-route call. Oh no. The radio has been silent for five minutes and I’ve got to call final in the next thirty seconds or it’s another go-around. On and on he rambles. I’m bounced around by some tricky turbulence and my brain is running out of capacity, seriously stressed by the inability to make the call in time and trying to hold the approach together. I’m below 500ft AGL now… the radio dialogue goes on… and he finally stops, I put the call in and clearance comes straight back. I broke the rules, though, and in retrospect, it was the wrong thing to do. But stressed, having already gone around once due to an untimely en-route radio dialogue, and the approach just coming together, I went ahead anyway.

The landing was not great. Same mistake as before: rounded out too high, found myself dropping too far to the runway on the edge of a stall, so full power to go around and just briefly bounced before I went skywards again. I never even saw the “picture” of the runway swinging round properly in the flare. I think I mishandled the throttle too, but recovered it before I was too close to the ground. What a mess.

So this is my final circuit. Got things a bit straighter this time, but my brain is a mess. Just do the routine and get back down in one piece. Fly a pretty good circuit, and just as I turn onto base, the radio comes alive with another en-route call. Bastards. I’m now fully aware of the 500ft rule, and I watch the altimeter with mounting anxiety while trying to keep the approach right, waiting desperately for the end of the dialogue. Finally, they stop when I’m at 600ft - put the call in, look for the picture… nope, it’s not happening as I waft roughly horizontally at a significant height above the tarmac and try to recover it… well, I’m too high off the ground once again, once again I bump down too hard. Rubbish. Back to the school, but the instructor is keener to get home than to chat about what went wrong. He didn’t see the landings and didn’t notice the radio chaos.

Why was today so hard? Why did I screw up so badly as soon as I was by myself, after two near-flawless circuits?

I guess the fact it’s second solo is part of it. It’s as demanding as first solo, but with less stress and nerves to boost performance. And by the end of the session, I’d been in the plane for a long time. I felt absolutely wrecked when I finally climbed out.

I discovered from the instructor that it’s acceptable to jump in with a final call in-between calls of someone else’s radio transaction, if it’s particularly lengthy or verbose like an en-route call. This, combined with taking the very first opportunity to call final as I’m turning on, should hopefully prevent radio difficulties like those I faced today.

So why were the landings such a mess? Well, I was stressed from making so many mistakes, and from the radio chaos making me go around and waste money, having already wasted a load of money waiting for the guy in the 172 earlier. I had noted the instructor’s comment that I was flaring too low, but I really didn’t feel that I was nailing the “picture” of the flare: I was rounding-out too high and not recovering it properly. If I’ve rounded out and I realise I’m too high, I guess (assuming there’s loads of runway left) I should hold the attitude, add a touch of power if the airspeed is getting dangerously low, and let the aircraft stabilise in a very gentle descent to bleed off the excess height until I’m in a position to hold-off at the idle in ground effect.

Still, I applied carb heat before reducing throttle, every single time. Small mercies.