Date & Time: Wednesday, 20th August, 1997, 20:30 CDT
Where: From SPX -> BPT -> SPX
Instruction: 1.6 hrs dual instruction with Lee Simmons. Running logbook total: 49.8 hrs, 20.9 hrs solo
Aircraft: Cessna 172, number N1219F

Blue days, black nights...part 2
   The new Part 61 calls for a night cross country, which seems like a great idea to me! I got my weather briefing, and it was to be a clear night for us, with fairly light winds (no more than 10 or 15 knots at our intended altitude of 5,500 to Beaumont, and 4,500 back). I went to the airport and Lee was waiting for me. I did my wind correction angles before we left ('Just in case we have an electrical failure, so we can dead rekon it home' I said - we intended to use VOR for this trip). My table at home is covered with computer equipment, so I always do the last bits of my flight planning at the clubhouse before I preflight (I do my initial planning of drawing lines on the map etc. there first too).
   I preflighted in the fading light of dusk, and we taxied out avoiding the puddles that had accumilated during the afternoon rainstorm. The taxiway reflectors shone our landing light back showing a clear blue path towards the run up pad. After the runup, five clicks on the mike brought SPX's pilot controlled lighting on, and off we went. I had one 'oops' - somehow I had missed taking the parking brake off! Yikes! However, I don't think I had applied it well enough anyway, since we were never impeded in taxiing out (I never trust the parking brake and always keep my feet on the brakes during the run up). It's on the checklist as well, but somehow I managed to miss it... After that little embarassment, I will be extra careful never to do that again! (We all learn from our mistakes...)
   We first flew south to gain some altitude before crossing Galveston Bay, just like I had on my daytime solo cross country. I really was appreciating the King radios in the 172 - you can have 4 frequencies dialed up ready, so it makes handoffs easy. We called Houston departure and got flight following. They cleared me into class B (this time I didn't have to refuse it since Lee was on board), so we could keep climbing without worrying about the 4000 ft. floor of Houston's Class B that was close by.
   Out to Smith Point was the first order of business, so we went direct to MHF (Trinity) VOR. Once over the VOR, I switched to Beaumont (BPT) VOR, and tracked that. Soon the crosswind was compensated for, and I was checking off checkpoints. At night, the coastline's shape is picked out in lights. The stars were out, and some distant convective activity was visible. I could see some red flashes in the far distance, occasionally picking out a towering cloud. Beaumont's ATIS was reporting nothing bad so they were away from our area. However, the temperature/dewpoint spread was less than 4 deg. celcius, so one thing to watch out for was mist and fog - but none was reported.
   We made contact with Beaumont approach as we passed Winnie Stowell airport. The airport made a great night landmark with a flashing beacon and runway lights. Interstate 10 could be seen nearby as a shimmering line of car headlights.
   Soon we were handed off to the tower, which was already dialed in to the radio, so a quick button press had us on the tower frequency. We were cleared to land on Runway 16. We asked for some touch-and-goes, and were cleared for the option. Time for the second goof of the night! I mistook Runway 12 for 16, and almost was done turning final, when Lee told me "wrong runway". Next time I'll be doubly sure to check the DG before turning final... I countinued on on base leg for 16 by getting back on course. The correct runway was soon in the windshield, edge lights glowing brightly.
   As we flew the pattern at Beaumont, Lee said "the lights seem a bit dim..." and pointed a flashlight at the ammeter. Uh-oh...there's a problem... we were showing a discharge! The low voltage light hadn't come on, and we just hadn't noticed it. The discharge was quite big, too. We told the tower of our predicament, and that we would need to break off from our session and go home now whilst the battery still had some power left. I applied full power and got rid of the flaps and started to climb away. That's all I could do right now - fly the airplane and then deal with an electrical failure...at night...for real. Having two of us on board was helpful. Whilst I flew, Lee fiddled around, and we got the generator back after the master switch was recycled. However, it failed about 2 minutes later, and the breaker had popped this time. Once again, we recycled everything, and reset the breaker. All non-essential equipment was switched off. We kept one radio on, the anticollision lights, rotating beacon and the transponder and talked to ATC to let them know that we wanted this off as well. We were going to have no nav equipment before long! Suddenly, I remembered I had a navigation log on my lap (not to mention someone who knows how to get from Beaumont to SPX anyway in the right seat). The nav log said fly a heading of 243, so I quickly established that before we got any distance away from the airport. (Remember...aviate, navigate, communicate). We told ATC what we were doing, and after getting the last of the traffic that was a factor in, they told us we could turn the transponder and radios off. We were now in full stealth mode as far as ATC was concerned (but we still had the anticollision lights). Fortunately, we were not in a busy class B, but instead a TRSA. On the way back, IH-10 was a welcome pilotage landmark, as the car headlights picked it out of the surrounding darkness. Winnie Stowell had the airport beacon going, so that made another good landmark to show that we were on course. Soon things had settled down to near normality, except that the instrument panel was completely and utterly dark. I could just make out the shape of some of the instrument hands, and a periodic check with a flashlight was in order. The ammeter continued to show a big charge-up, so the alternator was back online. However, we didn't want to use more power than was necessary in case this didn't continue. Pilot controlled lights need a radio (if we were really stuck we could still land at Galveston), and the flaps need a battery!
   About 30 miles out, we could see the rotating beacon at SPX. I watched it for a while to make sure that it was the airport, waiting for the alternate white and green flash. It was right off our nose, so the navigation log had worked out well.
   As we approached the airport, Lee turned on a radio and the cockpit lighting. The lights were already on at SPX as someone was just departing, so we didn't have a problem there. I concluded the flight with a terrible landing, though! I started off by flaring a bit too early, then letting it down, but bouncing. Once we were on the ground, I turned the landing light on so we could see the taxiway. The alternator had stayed online all the way home...it was still a mystery why it had given up somewhere between SPX and BPT, and why the low voltage light never came on.

Conclusion.
   Was I pleased that I had filled in that nav log! Okay, so Lee knew the way home anyway, but it could have quite easily been myself on my own.
   The problem was found - there was some bad alternator wiring. Also, there was a bad component on the alternator itself which was why we never saw the low-voltage light. The parts for that are now on order.

What was learned.
Fly the airplane.
Fly the airplane.
Fly the airplane.
Fly the airplane.
Oh, did I mention, fly the airplane? The electrical problem had no danger of making us stop flying. Then navigate. It was reassuring to have a plan written down on the navlog in case it all went pear-shaped.
   Talk to ATC too - they may be able to help (such as vectors to the nearest airport etc). We didn't need that, but I'm sure they found it useful to know what was going on, and that we wanted anything we didn't need for night VFR switched off.
   Remember... dead reckoning and pilotage are the basis of all VFR navigation. Everything else is just a backup! That way, an electrical failure in VFR won't be such a problem. (Read 'I Learned About Flying From That', volume 3 - a military instructor tells how he got out of a sticky corner when his electrical system died in thick IFR conditions by using nothing but dead reckoning, and when he did finally break out, he was where he expected to be).

Date & Time: Saturday, 23rd August, 1997, 18:00 CDT
Where: From SPX, local
Instruction: 1.9 hrs dual instruction with Lee Simmons, with my Dad as a back-seat passenger. Running logbook total: 51.7 hrs, 20.9 hrs solo
Aircraft: Cessna 172, number N1219F

Weighted down, and watching the balloons...
   My Dad was in town this weekend, so I arranged to take him up with Lee. I had been hoping I would be through the checkride by now, but it was not to be. However, the exercise would be very useful, as we would have the 172 well loaded with Lee, my Dad and myself all on board - at a total of 522 lbs. in the cabin, passengers and other parts loaded in. Our club's 172 has a remaining load of a shade over 590lbs with full fuel tanks, so although there was plenty left in the weight and balance envelope, there was significantly more than I've flown with to date. We didn't quite have full fuel though - from the amount that had been flown since it was filled, we had 30 gallons left, and a visual inspection confirmed this.
   Early in the week, a co-worker, Carla Yager, asked me if I wanted to go up with Lee to do the spotting (checking for balloons getting stuck etc). for the Ballunar Liftoff from NASA Johnson Space Center. I quickly agreed! It would be a treat for my Dad, and we'd have three pairs of eyes looking out, and it would be instructional in how best to divide attention between instruments, looking for traffic, and checking for hot air balloons.
   We got to the airport, and I preflighted. My Dad came over, so I  pointed out the things we did on preflight to make sure it was all airworthy, and what various things are such as the pitot tube, static port etc. This is the smallest aircraft he's ever been in - until last week he hadn't been in anything smaller than a 727, then he got to ride in a business jet (either a Learjet or a Cessna Citation). We were airworthy and ready to go, the alternator problems of the other night having being quickly repaired.
   On takeoff, you need to be a bit more patient. The aircraft has to accelerate some extra weight, so you spend a little extra time as it gets up to speed. Then rotate, lift off, and when the speed gets to Vy (best rate of climb airspeed) maintain that airspeed by pulling back and climb out as would be done normally. Lee keeps reminding me that altitude is your friend, so for a normal takeoff it's a great idea to get as much of it as quickly as possible by climbing at the right airspeed.
   Before the ballunar liftoff started (we had about half an hour) we did some sightseeing. We got in contact with Houston Approach to inform them of our intentions, and they cleared us into the class B airspace and told us to remain at or below 2,500 ft. We went out over the Baytown bridge (a big cable-stay bridge over the ship channel, surrounded by oil refineries), and to the San Jacinto monument (a monument to Texas' independence from Mexico over 150 years ago), and over the Battleship Texas (a World War I warship). As we came back from our trip, the first balloon was just launching, so we were in business. We had 2 frequencies to monitor - the ballunar liftoff frequency where we'd radio in anything untoward such as if a ballon got stuck somewhere where their crew couldn't get to them, and the Houston Approach frequency. We kept approach informed of when the liftoff was starting (we had told them earlier that we were taking part in this), and they told us that remaining at 2,500 feet was fine.
   We set up for a slow-flight regime - 70 to 75 knots with 20 degrees of flaps. This would give enough airflow to keep the engine properly cooled, and it would allow us to go slowly enough to circle overhead, checking on ballunar progress. The balloons were given a ceiling of 1,500 feet so we had plenty of altitude between us and the highest balloons to ensure safe operation. However, we did encounter some small helium balloons...so we needed to keep a sharp lookout so that we didn't get too close to any of them. Although they were small and probably wouldn't hurt, I still wouldn't want one to end up on our hot engine!
   We kept flying around, monitoring for any ATC calls we might get and watching the flock of balloons (around 80). Carla was on the ground taking care of the balloons down there, and she told us when the last one was launched (there were a few tethered, including the Space Shuttle hot air balloon still in the park). Once they were all safely down, we reported in and headed home. We told Houston Approach that we were done, and were going home, so they told us to squawk VFR and change to local frequency, SPX's CTAF of 122.7. We cleaned up out of slow flight configuration, and  went back to cruise. When we broke off, we were fairly close to SPX and at 2,500 feet needing to lose 1,500 ft. before pattern entry, so forgetting I had a passenger in the back, I decided to expedite our descent. I pulled the power back and shoved the nose forward, then Lee reminded me that it's a good idea to tell your passengers that you're going to descend in case you startle them! Fortunately, my Dad races motorcycle sidecar outfits (both classic and Formula 2) and is not easily rattled... but I'll have to remember in case I have nervous passengers on board when I take the first ones after my checkride!
   We were landing on 31, which is pretty unusual (I've only landed on runway 31 on a few occasions), since what little wind was left on the ground was favoring it. I made a nice clean landing - which is good! I've heard that landing is where a pilot usually gets judged by passengers (and hangers on at Oshkosh - apparently when people fly in there for the big airshow, people in lawn chairs on the ramp hold up numbers like at a figure skating contest as people arrive!).

Conclusion.
   If you can get a session where you can load the aircraft up with your CFI (or AFI as they are now called) it's really worth it. I feel better prepared for when the day comes that I have my ticket and I take passengers with me who are non-pilots. My Dad really enjoyed flying in the 172 - hopefully I'll find other people as well who will enjoy it when I've got my ticket! Now, I wonder who will be my first victi...err...guinea p...umm.. I mean passenger when I have?
   The ballons really displayed how windspeed changes at different altitudes - there wasn't that much wind on the ground, but the higher ballons were travelling noticeably more quickly than the lower ones. It's also quite a different perspective to see them from above instead of from below...

What was learned.
   Carrying extra weight needs a little more patience. The aircraft also has a slightly more nose up attitude in level flight, especially when we were just trundling along using 2200 RPM. This is because of the higher angle-of-attack required to generate the extra lift needed to balance out the weight. For observation operations like this evening's activity, slow flight is a useful thing to know. I'm glad I had practised it recently!
   The extra workload of checking for ballons, checking for other traffic, listening to ATC and listening for the ballon ground control on top of the primary tasks of aviating and navigating (OK, so we were in our local patch I knew the way home without a map...) was a good excersise in dividing attention appropriately.