And today I learned how to open hangar doors.

I was actually scheduled to fly at “blue flight, second go.” Because giving me an actual time would have been too simple. I sat in on the blue flight commander’s standup. This was the second standup I’d been to, and the blue flight commander seems to be more easy going than the white flight commander, but his students seemed to perform better. I’m not sure how well I would have done in his students’ shoes today. They certainly gave better answers than I would have expected from any student around 10-15 hours of flight time and possibly better than many private pilots.

When I got to the air field, the posted status was “STANDBY” which means that no one is flying, but that they haven’t given up for the day. The situation was no better after standup. Storms were building in the southwest and headed northeast right over the field. After a couple of hours things cleared up a bit, and many of the students were released to fly.

The Chief Flight Instructor, Leo, sent the white flight commander out on a “functional check flight” (because “test flight” is too short) and sent me with him, with the intention of completing my first new hire flight lesson. The plane was rigged with a digital fuel pressure gauge as well as a hand-held digital tack for the test flight. Maintenance just completed a factory modification to the fuel system to help prevent vapor lock and needed fuel pressure readings at various altitudes. My new hire lesson involved flying a North Departure, a tour of the north areas and the Greenland Corridor as well as a North Arrival. Since the test flight required precise readings at precise engine RPM and altitudes, Samuelson performed the takeoff and climb-out while I alternated between trying to make sense of the Air Force chart of the practice areas and helping take readings. Right after we climbed through 10,000 feet and got the required reading, we were recalled back to the field for thunderstorm activity. Anxious to get the test flight out of the way, Samuelson decided to let every one else head back ahead of us while we finished the last reading, to be taken at 12,000 feet. I doubt we were maintaining 300 feet/minute, and it took awhile to get up there. After getting the reading, he pulled the throttle to idle and set us up on a pretty steep descent so we could get down to 8,500 before we hit the North Corridor for the arrival. Right as we were about to report leaving area india to head back, they told us that they’d gotten lightning within 10 NM of the field and that it was closed, so we should hang out in the north areas for awhile. We thought that would work out just fine and let us finish the lesson. I took the controls and turned back east so he could show me the borders of the northeastern practice areas. We got to point Douglas, which I tried to commit to memory, when they told us to return to the field as quickly as possible. Samuelson conferred with Skywalker (the call sign for the AFS (Academy Flight Screening) monitor in the Academy tower), and they decided that we could head straight for the airfield and not fly the actual corridors. Since the field was behind some hills, I couldn’t really see it, but headed for the Academy on the hill. Samuelson punched up KAFF on the GPS (which, in spite of being a big beautiful moving map screen in front of me, never occurred to me as being an option), and I flew the course it suggested. While I was watching him program the GPS (not what I should have been doing) I managed to lose about 300 feet of altitude which took a little while to get back.

Mostly happened because I have no instrument scanning ability when sitting in the left seat for instruments on the right. I got used to instruments in front of me, and then instruments on the left while I was on the right, but not vice versa. It’s going to take some time to adapt. Also, I’m not sure I completely love the electronic trim. It just lacks a certain amount of feedback that you get with a physical trim wheel. Perhaps it will just take some getting used to. Also, flying a stick with my left hand feels like writing with my left hand. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since I’m used to flying with my left hand on the yoke, but the muscle movements are very, very different.

Anyway, I gawked at the 141 knots across the ground indicated by the GPS that we managed in straight and level flight. Faster than a 172 with a much smaller engine. As we neared the airfield, Samuelson took the controls and turned us downwind. He kept the speed up until midfield where he pulled the power to idle. The aircraft is so slick, it doesn’t slow down like a 172 will. We maintained altitude as the airspeed slowly bled off. As we passed our touchdown point, he dropped the flaps, and turned base while putting the aircraft in a slip to lose altitude. He rolled out on short final and actually had to add a little power to fight the sink, and executed a near-perfect touchdown. I couldn’t even see the sink– my only indication was the sound of the wheels hitting the runway.

The good news is that since I didn’t see everything, the lesson is incomplete and I get to do it over again. The more flight time before my check the better.

After the flight, we met the Safety Director for his brief, which took several hours. Considering the challenging flying environment (high field elevation, mountain winds, dry microbursts), it’s amazing that there have been no accidents in the program in its 7 year history. We spent the last hour learning how to open the hangar doors, which are basically glorified garage doors. Why they pay $25,000 a piece for them, I don’t know. They’re bigger than a normal garage door, and the center posts remove so that you can actually get an airplane through them.

So, I’m working dispatch at 0530am tomorrow, and possibly flying in the afternoon.