Date & Time: Tuesday, 24th June, 1997, 19:30 CDT
Where: From SPX > GLS > EFD > T41 > SPX
Instruction: 0.6 hours (ground) 1.9 hours (air) - - Total 2.5 hrs. Running logbook total: 20.6 hrs (halfway there!), 3.3 hours solo.
Aircraft: Cessna 172, number N1219F
Dual Instruction with Lee Simmons.

Blue days, black nights
   Today was my turn to do lots of new things. This would be my first trip outside of the pattern and practise area, my first landing at another airport, my first time being controlled by ATC, and my first time at night. Quite a trip!
   I was worried that this would be weathered off. A bunch of crummy weather had been affecting us since Friday, despite the fact that no fronts were near us and there was a nice big high pressure area over us. However, the weather moved off further towards Brownsville, leaving us with pretty nice conditions. By the time I got to the airport, the wind had died down. It was just about dead calm, with no more than a slight breeze running favoring 13. I preflighted, got all my night gear and charts where I could make a grab for them. I had also prepared earlier by making a nav log (complete with WCAs and everything - which we didn't really need after all as the wind stopped altogether). We took off at around 8.10 p.m. as dusk was approaching (for y'all up north (or any Falkland Islanders way down in the southern hemisphere...) - in the summer our days are shorter than people up in the north, and in the winter our days are longer - the closer to the equator you go, the less seasonal variation you get).
   First we went off to GLS (Galveston Scholes) which is quite a large uncontrolled airport with three runways to do some touch and goes until night had completely fallen. This airport is around about 16 miles from SPX, and comes complete with an ILS approach and its own VOR (it's also where the Lone Star Flight Museum is, housing a number of  warbirds that still fly). I called up UNICOM and asked for an airport advisory - my first radio work other than 'Houston Gulf Traffic, Cessna 1219F....', stumbled my words a bit... but I got the message across. The UNICOM guy came back telling us that the altimeter was 29.98 (we had that set already), and that winds were 190 at 4, favoring runway 17. I did the usual CTAF announcements (I was poised to say Houston Gulf the first time, but I stopped myself before embarrasing myself!), whilst a Search & Rescue helicopter pilot practised ILS approaches into 31 (she said she'd hold short of 17 for us). As it got darker, it got quite apparent that GLS is lit up like a Christmas tree. It has lights, and lots of them! I also encountered something else I hadn't yet come across when taking off from 17. Lack of a horizon outside! As you go off 17, you are headed straight out towards the Gulf of Mexico. I found myself keeping a good look at the attitude indicator (artificial horizon) to try and picture what was supposed to be out there. I could feel spatial disorientation coming on, but if I checked the AI and made the horizon appear in my mind's eye, it kept those feelings at bay. It's quite incredible how your senses lie to you when you are deprived of an outside reference, and it really takes some thinking to keep trusting the instruments and not the seat of your pants. 17 is also quite interesting as it has a big hotel (the reference point to start crosswind) not far from the departure end!
   When it got totally dark, we broke off from Galveston and turned right for Delve Intersection, on the 243 FROM radial from VUH (Galveston Scholes VOR) along Victor 70. Here came the lesson in cockpit management! Once we were headed West, Lee told me to find out where we should be going, and along what radial. I got my chart out first. I should have folded it to the right page when we took off! After much fiddling about and trying to unfold the freakin' thing, I managed to get it folded right and on my lap. Then I got out my nav log, and shone the cockpit map light at it. OK, set 243 radial, DME should read 22.5 at Delve. I looked at my instruments to find that we had drifted off course and had gotten into a 10 degree bank whilst I'd been fiddling around. I righted this, and set off for the radial. Whilst I was headed at the radial, I tried to check outside for traffic whilst looking on my nav log for the VOR and radial we'd follow to go north towards HOU (Houston Hobby). We'd be using the HUB VOR, and following its 354 radial with the flag set to TO. I dialled this into the radio, and by the time I had done all of this, the needle had virtually gone all the way to the left for the V70 radial! I turned back towards it. We were still pretty close to the VOR, so it was a little sensitive. Eventually I had it tamed, and we followed it the rest of the way towards Delve Intersection. As the needle on our second VOR head swung towards its center, we turned right to intercept the 354 radial from HUB. Lee contacted Houston approach to get us cleared into Houston Class B. We got assigned a squawk on the transponder, so Lee set it and pushed ident. We were cleared on our current heading and altitude. As we approached the point at which we would make a right turn for Ellington (we now had the EFD VORTAC tuned in on NAV 1), Lee told me to ask for vectors to Ellington. I did this, but I think the controller didn't quite catch me, so we had to say again. We got our vectors, and flew out towards Ellington. The contoller told us to let him know when we had Ellington in sight.
   EFD is an airport whose airspace abuts Houston Class B surface area. It has its own Class D, three runways and more F16's than you can shake a stick at. NASA keep their 'vomit comet' there too, and I've flown out of EFD many times on the Continental Express ATR-42 that shuttles up to the north side of town for IAH (Houston Intercontinental). We changed over to Ellington's frequency, and Lee did the radio work whilst I flew the airplane. We did a normal traffic pattern for runway 22, and were cleared for our touch-and-go. One thing I noticed is that the runways are almost invisible side on, buried in the lights from all the subdivisions which are near Ellington, but when you come in, the place is lit up pretty nice. Runway 22 has PAPI lights (Precision Approach indicators - like VASI but with four lights, which should be white, white, red, red when you are on the glideslope). With our customary steep glideslope at 65 knots, the red lights only started showing as we got close in. We did our touch and go, and asked for a right turn out of there straight to La Porte. Ellington tower said 'Make that a left turn', so we did, and headed out with a heading of 50 degrees to La Porte.
   Amongst all those city lights, La Porte was also quite difficult to find, but after a short while I spotted its rotating beacon. La Porte is another uncontrolled airfield, so we changed to 122.7 (which Houston Gulf uses too), and I made our usual radio calls. We flew the pattern for Runway 12 (La Porte has 2 runways, 12 / 30 being the longest). La Porte also has lots of fancy lights and PAPI.
   It was now time to head off home. However, Lee switched off all the interior lights and told me to find my way home! I reached for the red flashlight, and shone it at the instruments to make sure we were headed out in the desired direction. I took a look at my nav log, and found that SPX should be off on a heading of 171 degrees magnetic, so I turned that way, and kept a lookout for the rotating beacon. Eventually I saw it almost dead ahead around 5 miles away. The heading we were on seemed pretty good as we flew out over NASA, the office building I work in at IBM and Clear Lake. As we got in close, it was time to key the mike five times to get the lights on. First time I was too fast on the clicking, and nothing happened. I slowed my clicking down, and the runway lit up. I flew upwind, crosswind, downwind and base, then came in for our full-stop landing after nearly two hours of flying.

Conclusion.
   You never guess what? I did good landing after good landing. All my landings went well, with the only slight bump when we returned to SPX at the end because I flared perhaps a little high and bumped down a little. I guess all that practise in the gusty winds last week really paid off!
   This was also my most enjoyable flight yet. It was a mini-cross country flight at night, and night flying is really different. It was good to hear what it's like talking to ATC (they rattle off the numbers pretty fast though!). I might have to invest in one of those scanners you can get at Radio Shack to listen in a bit more. I'm really looking forward to the cross country work - it's coming soon (although how I'm going to get myself on the schedule, I don't know).

What was learned.
   You use the instruments a lot more at night - particularly when headed off into rural areas. The first thing Lee told me about landing at night is to use the runway lights, and don't follow your landing light because if you do...you'll slam it down. He's found that out from experience... That worked well - all my landings were good tonight. (In fact, I saw two other students who were complaining of 'slamming it down' on rec.aviation.student -- bets are on that they followed the landing light)
   Make sure that charts are folded to the appropriate point before you leave the ground! Folding them in the air is a real pain.
   ATC talk real fast... I'll need to listen to them more often to get used to the pace. And always listen out for your callsign...
   I found that a good investment for night flying was something I had bought from Academy the day before. One of those flashlights with a flashlight at one end, and a flourescent tube down its length. The one I got came with a removable orange filter (good for shining at the instruments) and the tube is good for generally lighting the cockpit when you've got back down. I may get some red acetate for the tube, because it would be good as a map light if that ever failed at night (it fits really snugly in the shoulder harness overheads).

Date & Time: Friday, 27 th June, 1997, 18:00 CDT
Where: From SPX, local flight
Instruction: 1.2 hours solo. Running logbook total: 22.8 hrs, 4.5 hrs solo
Aircraft: Cessna 172, number N1219F

Watch out for that Citabria...
   Today was another one of those thundery afternoons, but by flying time, the weather had turned really very nice. The sun was shining, and the only clouds were some high-level stratiform clouds somewhere off in the distance. Visibility was good as well. I preflighted, got fuel and really checked for water very thoroughly. The brief thunderstorm that had come through a couple of hours earlier had soaked the place pretty well (when I looked at the radar a couple of hours before going to SPX, the only weather on Galveston's local radar was this one storm - right overhead, much like Dilbert's cloud-of-doom he got off his boss...). The winds were supposedly 150 at 4 by EFD's METAR, but they were a little different here - closer to 180 at 6 to 8 knots. I tried to get an update off EFD's ATIS, but all I got on the radio was static. Well, VHF is line-of-site only, and Ellington is a few miles to the north of here.
   I did six touch-and-goes for starters. All of them went well, although a couple of landings were a little bouncy, but the bounces were never hard (more like just brushing the pavement). This time I didn't let the crosswind put me off, and I got the yoke right back into my chest each time. I even got the stall horn to go off a couple of times before touchdown, too! Pity Lee wasn't with me to witness this, really...
   I then headed off to the practise area to brush up on turns-around-the-point and some more slow flight. As I headed off to the practise area, I saw another aircraft out there a bit further to the south of my intended practise point which was doing what looked like steep turns, and then what looked like was going to be a lazy eight. I decided to go a little further north to do my slow flight to stay well clear of him. I did my clearing turn, and saw him again. This time there was little or no relative movement of his aircraft in my windscreen. My Jeppeson manual and my instructor has told me that means that the other aircraft is almost certianly headed straight at you! He was still probably a mile out at this point, so without wasting time I began a 20 degree bank to the right, and kept a sharp lookout for him. He did another one of his steep turns, so it looked like he wasn't going to be a factor. I did another clearing turn and decided to do my slow flight going away from the area he was practising in. The slow flight went pretty well - I kept within altitude limits and didn't wander off course, and recovered pretty well (although I did lose a small amount of altitude in the recovery phase (around 20 feet) - I'll have to fix that). I turned around and looked for the airplane I had been watching as I flew towards the pile of sand we use for turns around a point.
   I levelled out at 1000 feet, and scanned for traffic as I flew away from the sand pile in preparation for the manouver. As I scanned each piece of airspace, suddenly the other airplane came into view! What looked suspiciously like a Citabria was flying in the direct opposite direction to me. He must have been well over 500 feet above me, but because he suddenly appeared in my scan from high up, it really did catch my attention. I kept my eye on him as I did my turn around the point - in fact, I was watching him a little too hard because my circle wasn't quite perfect. Oh well - I'd rather have an uneven circle than inadvertently come into his flight path.
   It was time to head off home. I pressed the headset button for NAV1, which was still tuned for Ellington's ATIS (which is broadcast on EFD's VOR). Information Kilo had winds from 190 at 8 - that was more like what we were having. It had also been recently updated - it was on the 23:50Z cycle, which translated to 18:50 CDT. As I came in for my 45 degree entry to the pattern, another pilot was announcing his crosswind for a touch and go. I was a couple of minutes from actually entering the downwind, so I decided that this wouldn't give me enough spacing (plus he was a student doing some dual touch and goes - and I can remember only too well how distractions such as other traffic boring down on me in the pattern took my mind off landing). I decided to do a 360 degree turn for spacing. Unfortunately, La Porte became busy all of a sudden, and I couldn't get a word in edgeways on the radio to let the pilot in the pattern know what I was doing until it was all over and I was announcing downwind for 13, and number 2 behind him.
   My full-stop landing was pretty good - the wheels did momentarily brush the tarmac a little early, but in the end I had the yoke right back with the stall horn sounding. A good, enjoyable session. As I taxied back, I though about the upcoming cross countries - I think I will do some flight planning tomorrow to get ready.

Conclusion.
   Well - my crosswind landings are coming on pretty well, just as other denizens of SPX have told me they would... When I went out to the practise area, I quite enjoyed flying around a bit to get myself a good spacing from the other aircraft. It was a nice day, and you could see for miles.
   I heard a really odd thing on the radio today, from one of the airports that share the same CTAF frequency (I think it must have been La Porte):
"Cessna XXXX departing runway 23", said the first pilot.
"...uh, do you like 23 or something?", said the second (who I think was airborne at the time)
"Yeah, it's my favorite, actually...", said the first again, in a bright voice.
"uh....well, thanks for the traffic advisory"
Sounds like the second pilot was trying to tell the first pilot in a roundabout way that he was taking off downwind (or either that, the second pilot was going for the opposite end and had to break off his approach...)

What was learned.
   Be prepared for the turbulence just at the end of runway 13! It gets me every time, but I'm getting better at it. I've also learned to 'play with it' much better since the last crosswind session that I did, as reflected by the lack of hard landings.
   The lesson of 'a good approach is needed for a good landing' was reinforced - my best landings today always followed my best approaches.
   Tonight was my best crosswind session so far. I still need practise at them, but it's coming together, and I didn't feel the frustration of the lack of nice landings that I started to feel the last time I had a crosswind.

Date & Time: Saturday, 28th June, 1997, 18:00 CDT
Where: From SPX, local flight
Instruction: 1.4 hours solo. Running logbook total: 24.2 hrs, 5.9 hrs solo
Aircraft: Cessna 172, number N1219F

Pattern to myself.

   Today, I had the pattern to myself. A couple of other aircraft came and went, but nobody else was doing touch and goes. There was a quartering crosswind with some mild gusts, favoring runway 13 as it normally does. I started with a couple of touch-and-goes which went pretty well, with none of the normal bouncing I do in a gusty crosswind. The only problem was that I wasn't quite on the centerline.
   I decided to break off for the practise area early because it was pretty warm. There was a fairly widely scattered cloud layer at around 3,000 ft, so I went above that to practise some slow flight turns in the cooler air. This went pretty well, except I'm going to have to improve my altitude control - I had a tendency to lose a small amount of altitude. I went back low to do some ground reference manoevers, which also were not too bad, but still need improvement in the altitude control department.
   Back to the pattern for some more touch and goes. I did quite a number of these to get plenty of mildly gusting crosswind practise. On each of them I got the yoke right the way back during the flare (although rubber did touch the pavement on most landings before I was quite there), and I managed to improve my directional control with the rudder. One of my landings was my best gusty crosswind landing yet - I was on the centerline and it was smooth, with the stall horn going off! Good job Lee wasn't in the plane, because I had to yell 'Yeee-haaw!' after that one, and I might have deafened him...
   There was one time which was very odd. I hit the normal turbulence you get when there's any wind as you cross the end of the trees of Runway 13. I could see the windsock aligned 45 degrees to the runway, and I was holding a slight right slip to compensate. All of a sudden, it seemed the wind was quartering in the other direction, and I was rapidly moving to the right of the runway. I quickly slipped the airplane in the other direction, then suddenly the wind decided to blow in the direction that the windsock said it should be blowing, just as I was back over the centerline. The right wing lifted a bit as the gust got under it, so I smartly corrected it and pointed it down so I was in the attitude I had been just as I was over the trees, and flared. The touchdown wasn't my best, but I didn't bounce and it wasn't too hard. The wind is often squirrely at Runway 13, but I've never had it suddenly change direction like it did that time!

Conclusion.
   Wow, a week in which I never had a section cancelled due to weather! This is an event that should go in the logbook... I was having such a good time today, that when I got back I saw I had 1.4 hours on the Hobbs meter! Well, gets me nicely over 5 hours of solo, and that little bit closer to the checkride. I also got to do some scheduling for a bit more dual instruction - first off, we are going to do a session of short/soft field practise, and then the cross country. We do a large triangle - SPX - LCH (Lake Charles) - LFK (Lufkin) then back to SPX.

What was learned.
   To use that old cliche, 'expect the unexpected'. The winds weren't that strong tonight, but they sure were squirrely. It's quite odd when the wind is going in a different direction where you are than where the windsock is! I found that if I read the signs quickly and took action, I could get a good landing in. Of course, if I had gotten completely thrown, I could have just firewalled the throttle and gone around for another try.