Flight test booked? Check.
Aircraft reserved? Check.
Lesson plans complete? Check.
Initial wave of panic? You bet'cha!
In one week's time, I'll be strapped into an airplane, undergoing a flight test for a Class IV Flight Instructor Rating. Until then, I'll be studying, reviewing, fretting, and caffeining the hours away!
It's a small, two syllable word, yet it carries with it a tremendous weight. It has the ability to disrupt sleeping patterns, reduce the size of fingernails, and wreak havoc with one's social life. Depending on what is being tested, it can take several different forms, including The Written, The Oral, and The Practical. Three days ago, the Exam and I did battle. I won.
Exams have been a part of my life since Grade 7. The high-school I attended thought it was a good idea to introduce us to exams at a young age. Looking back, I have to agree that they made a good decision. By the time I was ready for university, exams no longer filled me with thoughts of dread and despair. Instead, my study habits were relatively well-developed and I managed to pass most of the exams that were thrown my way.
My love-hate relationship with The Exam did not end after four years of university. Instead I found myself studying the wonders of aviation and preparing for, yes, more exams. Almost from the beginning, I noticed that something was different. The type of learning that was required to become a proficient pilot involved skills other than the ones I had honed over the previous ten years. Essays and short answers were a thing of the past, and instead I had to develop new motor skills, perform challenging manoeuvres, and demonstrate the ability to control an aircraft. "Book learning", while still an important part of this process, was now accompanied by its evil-twins, The Oral and The Practical. I had forgotten about these two side-kicks. It's taken some time and effort, but I've been able to conquer them both.
Last Friday was another step along the long and winding path to professional pilot-dom. I passed the Class 4 Flight Instructor Rating Written Exam (or AIRAF, for short). Three solid weeks of studying proved enough, and I've now focused my attention to the Oral and Practical portions, scheduled to take place towards the end of August. I can finally see the end result of what I've been working towards over the past six months. And I still want this more than ever!
The majority of time that a flight instructor student such as myself spends in the air is devoted towards learning how to teach the various air exercises and flight manoeuvres required for the completion of a Private or Commercial Pilot License. It is hoped that by this point in their flying career, the "instructor student" (Me) knows how to perform them properly, and it is simply a matter of learning how to effectively communicate and teach this knowledge to others. Among the roughly twenty-five exercises that students learn to accomplish throughout the course of training is the Diversion.
Diversions occur when, during a flight from A to B, the need arises to discontinue the flight to the original destination, and instead change course, or divert, to a new destination. Reasons for a diversion can range from bad weather to a sick passenger to a simple decision to land somewhere that you didn't originally intend to. They are an important exercise for all pilots to know, as every flight has the potential to end in a diversion.
I'm not ashamed to say that, during my own initial flight training, diversions were the bane of my existence. I practiced and practiced and practiced, until finally I knew and could execute the procedure perfectly. As I'm quickly learning however, it's one thing to know the procedure youself, and an entirely different thing to teach it to someone else.
So it was that I found myself and my Class 1 Instructor sailing through the clear blue sky at 2500 ASL, when he turned to me, pointed to a little town on the map, and asked me to "teach" him how to divert there.
He had chosen as our destination, Lindsay, Ontario. My map now out on my lap, I quickly ran through the procedure in my head, and then began the instruction. Circle destination, circle set heading point, draw line between the two, then heading, distance, time and fuel estimates. Lean mixture, set power and compass, and then it's time to turn onto the estimated heading, note the time, and away we go.
A few more calculations enroute, ensuring that the inital estimates for time to destination and fuel required are relatively accurate, and before long the field is in sight and we are on the ground.
I have flown over Lindsay's airport many times in the past. This was, however, my first time landing there, and I had heard a rumor that the airport cafe has excellent butter tarts. This is no longer a rumor; it's a fact. They are amazing. A goey explosion of sugary goodness in your mouth. If you're ever in the area, either in the air or on the ground, do stop in and try one. You will not be disappointed.
Our coffee and butter tart finished, we climbed back in the ship, taxied to the runway and climbed back in the sky. The return back home was spent working on precautionary landings, another important skill that all pilots should know.
Back on the ground, I was told that the diversion instruction went well. A few tips to keep in mind, but no major concerns from my instructor. All in all, it was a great day. Next time I'm Lindsay, I'm getting a box of those tarts to go.
