What I've been up to

I'll just be honest and say that blogging has become a big task for me lately. School has really been getting to me (especially a certain class - some will know what I am talking about), and I tell everyone the same story: when I'm not doing homework, playing tennis, swimming, or flying, I'm sleeping. A lot. I'm averaging about 13 hours of sleep per day over the weekends, and now that I'm on Christmas break I hope to try and return to a normal schedule. Whenever I did have free time on my hands, I opted to do something else instead of write here. Yes, I procrastinated.

However, while finding the time (and the willpower) to write about my flying experiences has been challenging, I still enjoy sharing my stories with others. I find it odd that I finally sat down and began to write at 1:55am on December 23, 2008. A lot of good that is for my sleep schedule, right? Well, I'm awake, alert, and ready to write, so here it goes.

On November 14, 2008, I had a day off from school due to a teacher in-service (essentially the teachers go to school for the day but students don't), and my friend and I had planned to spend the day flying to State College, PA to visit Pennsylvania State University, better known as Penn State. Unfortunately, the weather was very bleak that day, and my departure from Queen City was delayed about 2 hours because I wanted to wait for the cloud ceilings to lift a little in Allentown.

After the ceilings finally lifted to my liking, I decided to get underway for the one-hour flight to University Airpark (UNV). The aircraft was the retractable-gear aircraft that I have been flying lately, a Cessna Cutlass 172RG designated N5176V, and it's still a wonder to fly with the increased performance. The flight was normal, with nothing out of the ordinary to mention, except perhaps for the wavey clouds we encountered enroute over the ridges approaching Penn State.

The flight on the way home was one of the flights that I learned something from. The weather at Penn State and Allentown was solid IFR, like when I left earlier that day, but at or above my comfort zone. Enroute, however, the picture was even gloomier. The cloud ceilings were down to about 200ft, which is incredibly low even for airline standards. Inflight, the cloud ceilings at Allentown had dropped dramatically to my surprise to 200ft. Immediately, I began to consider diverting to my alternate airport which had an ILS, as I would not be able to conduct the approach into Queen City. Shortly thereafter, the ceilings rose back to 600ft, which was sufficient for me to land at Queen City as I planned.

After landing safely I spoke with my instructors, who were also concerned about the conditions that I faced, and they convinced me that it would have been a better idea to have either stayed the night in Penn State or delay the flight a few hours until conditions were guaranteed to be above my comfort zone. This is why personal minimums have been created. There are always the legal minimums, but every aviator should have his own personal weather minimums, especially in general aviation, to conduct any flight.

Two weeks later, it was Thanksgiving, and my entire family was home to celebrate. This finally gave me the opportunity to take my three sisters on a promised flight to the Hudson River Corridor to experience the awe of Manhattan. As a matter of fact, "awe" is probably an understatement of what they felt. "Shock" would be more appropriate. Every person that I have taken on this special flight has been knocked out of their world because he/she never could've imagined how close he/she really gets to New York City. For example, one of my sisters fell asleep enroute to the Hudson River, and my other sister nudged her when we were right next to the the skyscrapers, which was followed by a very loud gasp. Not everyone can say that they've flown at 900ft above the Hudson River along Manhattan, below the peaks of many of the buildings. See for yourself here (click "watch in high quality"!). My passengers attempted to take pictures, but they all turned out blurry due to our speed and proximity to the island. My camera with a fast shutter speed would've worked, but I was flying and I could not explain how to operate it.

This next flight was quite eventful. I decided to fly VFR from Allentown to Atlantic City, a common destination for my cross-country flights. Today however, a TFR (Temporary Flight Restriction) was in effect over the city of Philadelphia, which was directly along my route of flight. Luckily, the TFR did not take effect until after I arrived in Atlantic City, but it the extra restriction would still pose a challenge for the leg home. Apparently, President Bush was arriving in Philly on Air Force One for the Army-Navy football game. Basically, there would be a 15 mile radius around downtown Philly that would be designated as a no-fly zone, and a 30 mile radius around the same point in which any aircraft could fly, but only with ATC clearance.

As I said, I didn't have to worry about the TFR for the flight to Atlantic City. Rather, I would be flying directly through the middle of the Class Bravo airspace, so spotting and avoiding other aircraft was going to be my primary job. Just as I was over downtown Philly, I spotted an American Airlines MD-80 (Super 80) which was inbound to Philly International (PHL). About a minute later, he was directly over me, above 500ft above me. One of the pilots of that aircraft informed ATC that he got a TCAS (Traffic Collision and Avoidance System) warning due to my proximity to him, and began to climb for an extra margin. From my perspective, there was still plenty of space, but I'm sure the AA pilot was binded by rules to climb anyway. Just to be safe, I descended as well. TCAS is a system common mainly in larger aircraft, which detects and tracts other aircraft in a certain proximity. While there are many versions and features, the type on this Super 80 likely had the TA/RA features, which stands for Traffic Advisory and Resolution Advisory. Essentially, the traffic advisory informs the pilot that there is other traffic nearby with an aural alert (normally "Traffic, traffic"), while resolution advisory will give commands on the best course of action to avoid the other aircraft (like "Climb" or "Descend"). I've read articles on near-misses in the air, and this sophisted technology has certainly been the saviour in many of those cases.

The rest of the flight to Atlantic City was normal, but as I mentioned, the flight home was going to be interesting because of the TFR. Before I left the ground, ATC was already asking me for more information such as my full callsign, home airport, etc. With this information, I was allowed into the outer ring of the TFR on a northerly route along eastern Philadelphia and Trenton before turning direct to to Allentown. Remember how I said the President was flying in? Well guess who I heard on the radio? As I was over Northeast Philadelphia, I heard in my headset, "Philadelphia Approach, Air Force One with you descending through 9,500." Although I was 6,500ft above the ground, my jaw still hit terra firma. I've been to Andrews Air Force Base in Camp Springs, MD, the home of Air Force One. There I had the rare opportunity of being about 100ft from the presidential transporter, but that was the first time I heard the callsign over the open radio. That really made my day.

My last flight to comment on was another routine cross-country flight to Harrisburg Capital City Airport (CXY). This is another easy trip and one of my shorter cross countries, but there is still a lot to look at. On the way, I passed Reading and on the approach to Harrisburg, I saw Three Mile Island. Some of you may be familiar with the incident at Three Mile Island, which is still an active nuclear power plant. Long story short, there was a meltdown at the plant, but for more details, I would read more here. After takeoff on the way back to Allentown, I also managed to capture a shot of downtown Harrisburg. When I wasn't picking out landmarks, I just admired the beauty of rural PA. As you can see, I managed to get above the clouds on way home. I realized that it was a much smoother ride above the clouds compared to the flight to Harrisburg when I was below them. See the video (click "Watch in high quality"!).

I noticed that I used the terms "routine," "normal," and "uneventful" in this post. In reality, I think this particular post demonstrates how every flight is unique! Perhaps the last flight to Harrisburg was more normal than others, but how often do I get to fly above the clouds? Not often. In the last month, I've flown in IFR conditions, learned a thing or two about weather and decision making, heard Air Force One on the radio, and came within 500ft of an American Airlines jetliner. I'd say these flights have been anything but routine! Don't forget to check out my flickr site (see link to the right) and my youtube page (also to the right) to see more videos and photos! Comments on this site or any of my sites are always appreciated!