Oops!

Oops is probably not a word you like to hear anywhere near an airplane.

Not quite as bad as "Uh Oh" and not nearly as alarming as "Oh Sh*t!"

Still, oops does tend to be an attention-getter. Fortunately, this oops occurred on the ground and not in the air.

Got clearance to cross a runway and contact ground. So the normal procedure is to cross the line, hold (meaning STOP), and call up the tower for taxi instructions.

So I motored across and as I did so, was explaining something to my left-seat student-passenger, can't remember what any more.

Now usually, I can talk and taxi an airplane at the same time. Perhaps a bit more difficult than walking and chewing gum but generally doable.

Somehow this time was different.

I crossed the runway and cruised right on past the hold line and automatically turned left onto the taxiway.

And faced right into an oncoming jet taxiing toward me.

OOPS!

One millisecond later, the controller on the radio not-so-gently reminded me that I was to hold and contact ground.

Mortified and stunned that I could have done such a thing, I sheepishly acknowledged and apologized. Stomped on the right brake and thankfully had enough room to do a 180 on the taxiway and get clear to the ramp.

Now would be a good time to point out that the oncoming jet was still quite a ways down the taxiway from where we were, at least 200 yards.

And I saw the jet stop moving so I knew that at least that driver was paying attention. And very likely muttering niceties in my direction while I flailed my arms and gnashed my teeth.

Anyways there was very little imminent danger of bending aluminum.

Still . . . it was a mistake. Probably my most serious mistake so far.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

A couple of lessons are now burned onto my synapses:

First, I allowed myself to get distracted during taxi. Distraction is a famous cause of accidents on the ground and I was guilty as hell. So in the future I resolve to pay a lot more attention during this phase of operating an airplane.

Second, I've always considered myself to be a very safe and attentive pilot but I now realize, sadly, that I am no different than any other pilot who gets distracted while taxiing.

In other words, I am not a perfect pilot.

Dang.

And that is perhaps the more important lesson.

Having an attitude of invincibility is one of the leading reasons pilots get into trouble, and I don't mean with the FAA.

Recognizing one's fallibility is a good step in the right direction of being a safe, confident, and competent pilot.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

Another Step in the Journey

A career in aviation as a pilot is a seemingly endless series of study, training, exams, certifications, and ratings. Indeed, earning one's Private Pilot Certificate (or Sport or Recreational Pilot) is really just a license to learn, because aviation is one of those endeavors that, regardless of one's goal, is truly a lifetime of continual learning. Or it should be.

A few days ago I passed the written exam required for the Instrument Rating.

Yep, got a 90% which is my personal minimum.

I'd been reading, assimilating, and preparing for this exam for several months, and over the past ten days I had a lull in my work schedule — I am a freelance internet professional — so I used the time to focus on this exam by going through a DVD training course and then doing a few practice exams.

In typical fashion, the actual exam proved to be less stressful and difficult than I had imagined it would be.

For some unknown reason, often at the outset of a project, or in this case a new level of flight training, the goal seems so distant, and to overcome the inertia required to begin is difficult. Something about Newton and his First Law of Motion, but in a mental sense. One has to inject mental energy into the project to get it moving.

Then of course, real action needs to be applied for things to start happening. Such as reading, studying, practicing, and so on.

So too with this written exam. Earning an Instrument Rating is one of the more difficult tasks in aviation. Not that each little bit is difficult, but that there are just a TON of little bits that one needs to know. And remember.

When I first dove into the material it seemed overwhelming, and the mental energy needed to concentrate had to be summoned from some deep recess of my brain. Especially because a lot of this reading was done at night before falling sleep. And yes, I did dream of instruments, approaches, and clouds.

Lots of clouds. And flying in clouds. Several times I awoke in the middle of the night, dizzy from disorientation. How the heck could that happen in a dream, I wondered.

Gradually the more I read the more of it got behind me and the less there remained ahead. Until one day I realized I had been through the entire training manual. Then I read it again. And certain parts of it yet again.

Something seemed missing — I was getting all the little pieces/parts but . . . I needed the parts to coalesce into a complete picture. So then I thought I'd try the DVD course and that helped to put it all together. It was the actual USE of the material from the manual that I had been missing, and the videos made it all make sense.

So now, all I have to do is learn how to put the pieces into action. In a real airplane. In real weather.

Might have to move back east, we don't get a whole lot of "real weather" here in Colorado.

I remember growing up in PA, we'd have cloud cover it seemed like from November till May. But that's another story.

Evil Wind or . . . A Tale of Two Streets?

This is a story about wind. Not just any wind, mind you. And, it is a story of bike rides. Many bike rides.

Before you get your eyes ready to glaze over, this is not about the physics of wind, nor is it about how wind affects airplanes, as you may have thought.

Nope, this is about bicycling. And irritation. And perseverance.

I cycle for exercise — 10 miles a minimum three times per week. I have also begun throwing in a 15-miler on (some) Sundays. Keeps me out of trouble. And keeps my resting heart rate down in the 50s. I like that.

My usual 10-mile route takes me through City Park, north on York and then east on 26th avenue past City Park Golf Course, and I pedal til I get to Central Park Drive, which is in Stapleton. I make way south and then head west on Montview back to City Park and home.

You're probably wondering, What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, on many occasions, too many to count now, I have observed the most peculiar thing: heading east on 26th, the wind is in my face, and then westbound on Montview the wind is also in my face! So, I have often wondered in amazement (and sometimes irritation) — how the heck can the wind be flowing in opposite directions just 6 blocks apart?? And no, it is NOT due to my speed along the ground. We are talking about actual wind. I have been riding long enough to tell the difference. Plus I can see tree branches waving and litter being blown along the ground.

For example, just yesterday the wind was about 15-18 miles per hour. And it was out of the southeast because I observed that the spray from the Electric Fountain in City Park was being blown toward the northwest. Thus I was not too surprised when I pedaled east on 26th and the wind was slightly in my face. And it was even stronger on my southbound leg to Montview — very difficult pedaling almost directly into the wind.

Heading west on Montview was a complete surprise: the wind was really ripping into my face! "How can this be??" thought I, as I struggled to maintain speed.

Thinking of mechanisms of wind shear or in this case, more likely simple thermal heating and lifting, I guess it doesn't seem impossible. And yet, the number of times I have observed this on my rides leads me to wonder if some greater force is conspiring to make my life difficult. Well, that's just plain silly I tell myself, as I focus on turning my irritation into more forceful pedaling. There MUST be some explanation involving updrafts (it was a sunny, warm day), terrain features, and so on.

I won't relate all the thoughts that zip through my neurons during these curious moments, but I will tell you how I translate them to other areas of my life: when there arise such struggles as this one against the wind, I say to myself "Mike, you MUST keep going. You CANNOT QUIT. No matter how hard it gets, you MUST KEEP GOING."

It's not about making my time or even keeping up speed, but about simply NOT giving up.

And so it also goes with many aspects of life: one must keep at it, keep up the fight, never give in to the forces that seemingly conspire against you, and above all — NEVER QUIT.

And so, just as I turn a struggle on the bike into a dogged determination to keep pedaling, so too do I transform adversity and misfortune into a fierce motivation to see my personal and business goals achieved.

No matter what anybody tells me.

So there.