I have time for things these days. I like having time. I don’t need to study just yet.

Commercial ground school is simply a re-hash of private ground school. By that, I mean that my flight school puts the commercial students in the same ground school as the privates. It’s generally referred to simply as “Dale’s Ground School”.

Anytime I ask about the setup, I get one of two answers. One is, “You forget it all in instrument training, anyway.” The other is, “At least the stories are good.” I enjoyed Dale’s ground school quite a bit more the first time around. I don’t mind it terribly much this time around, but it’s less exciting when I can tally the specific things I’ve learned after three days in three hours of class. Today, I learned that in spite of the fact that a Cessna 172P has “7 Quarts” printed on the dipstick, the capacity of the system is actually 8 quarts. This seems a little weird to me, since if you drain the system and put a new oil filter in, you ought to expect to be able to put the amount of oil printed on the dipstick in the engine. But, apparently, one quart is contained in the oil filter, and that just doesn’t count. Admittedly, I learned this because Dale said, “Oil capacity of the 172 is about 8 quarts.” So, I looked up the oil system in my operating handbook.

I also learned that Dale is under the impression that you cannot mix synthetic and conventional motor oils. Unless there’s something about aviation oil that’s significantly different than automotive oil, he’s wrong about this. I neglected to quiz him, since in general, he knows more than me about most things, which is an awfully nice change. I have to refrain from asking him to delve deeper into a subject that’s not really relevant and will probably annoy my classmates.

This group of people is substantially different than the last group. It’s nearly 20 people large, which is slightly larger than the “classroom” can comfortably accommodate. But the biggest difference is that this class has real, honest-to-god, actual girls in it. Two of them. Women may be a growing presence in aviation, but they’re pretty rare around this school. Prior to these two, the only other female student I encountered was leaving about the time I showed up.

These two girls amuse me for a couple of reasons. They’re both here because the Air Force sent them here. I was a bit surprised the Air Force outsources even pilot training. They only do their private training here, but they’ve got a pretty sweet deal. They get paid to go to learn to fly, unlike the rest of us who are spending obscene amounts of money. They don’t seem to much like Dale and complain about how long-winded he is, and how what he says could actually be compressed quite a bit.

They miss the point. The only reason this flight school operates a ground school class at all is because they have to in order to have their training certificated under part 141. The FAA allows “pilot schools” to condense training significantly over what you’d have to do outside of a pilot school. The school, in turn, has to submit an approved curriculum. The private course requires something like 40 hours of groundschool. It almost doesn’t matter what he talks about, the time is mandated more than the subject matter.

Dale follows along with a textbook, but he doesn’t pay much attention to it, using it only as an outline. Most of what he says is non-essential but helpful and colorful information that’s not in the textbook. This is good since anyone can read a textbook, a teacher who simply reads one for a class is hardly much of a teacher.

Dale asks questions continuously only pausing for an answer about half the time. Not wanting to look like the know-it-all I am, but still wanting to impress Dale (since he might be a significant factor in whether or not I can land a job at the school when I finish) is something of a delicate balance. Mostly, I only take the questions no one else can answer, or is willing to answer.

Every now and then he corners a student for an answer. Sometimes he goes around the room and polls, if it’s a particularly difficult question. He hasn’t done much of this in this class though since it’s much bigger.

When he asks, “What’s the fuel tank capacity of a 172?” there’s a chorus of answers, almost all simultaneous after a short pause. When he asks, “How much does a gallon of jet fuel weigh?” there’s only one respondant. I’m surprised, because it’s not me. Of the people who ever answer, we all play the game much the same way.

I haven’t flown yet, though I have been assigned a commercial instructor. The first part of commercial training is primarily cross-country solo flights. Now I get to worry about getting lost again.