It was a crystal clear October 2000 morning. I was eager to get started on my first cross-country flight since earning my private pilot certificate. After all, I had acquired it with only 41.5 hours of flight time; therefore, I must be good - right? Joining me on this flight was my mother. She too was excited to see me use what I had worked so hard to earn. We were anxious to get going, as we were headed to my niece’s first birthday party, which was that evening in Louisville, Kentucky.
We arrived at the airport in Lee’s Summit, Missouri to find that the plane we had reserved, N5164L, was late returning from a trip the previous day. Their tardiness meant our departure would be delayed. We had to depart Lee’s Summit before 1:00pm to avoid a night approach into Louisville and to arrive on time for the party. We were just about to give up when we were informed that the plane was indeed back and ready for us. It was 12:30pm.
We began rushing to keep our departure on schedule. In my haste, I forgot to latch the door before takeoff, the first link in a negative chain of events on my maiden voyage. Since I had planned a fuel stop to meet reserve requirements anyway, I decided to stay in the air with the unlatched door until I reached Columbia, Missouri. I could top off the tanks in Columbia, latch the door, and we’d be on our way with no time lost. But I soon realized how poorly equipped the airplane was. Although I had flown this plane before, I now noticed it had only one navigational aid, and while the ancient radio hadn’t concerned me before (after all it worked!), it’s handheld microphone was a problem. The unlatched door caused so much wind noise, I could barely hear the air traffic controllers. Barely off the ground, I could feel my stress level rising. We picked up radar service with Kansas City Center. They handled our flight until turning us over to the Columbia tower. We topped off the tanks, latched the door, and were off in no time.
As soon as we were airborne I noticed the heading indicator was not functioning. The compass was oscillating, and I was getting confused as to my direction of flight. I contacted the tower and they radar vectored me back to Columbia so I could set the plane down and diagnose the problem. I found the setting knob gear did not fully disengage from the compass card after adjusting it prior to takeoff. Once properly adjusted, we were on our way.
The clock was ticking and it was evident we were getting close to arriving in Louisville at night. The pressure was rising. I contacted Columbia Departure for flight following, and they handed me back over to the Kansas City Center, which then handed me over to St. Louis Approach. St. Louis Approach began vectoring me south of the Class B airspace, adding more time to our flight. We flew for quite some time before I decided to inquire as to when they might turn me east again. To my dismay, they apologized for not turning me sooner. At this time my flight plan was no longer valid. I began trying to fly direct to Louisville. However, the wind was blowing us south, which left me unsure of my location. I noticed a power plant just north of my position, so I decided to utilize dead reckoning navigation. I also decided to set the airplane down, check the weather, and prepare for a night approach into Louisville’s Bowman Field. We were in Centralia, Illinois. It was late in the day and no one was available to pump gas. I had to call for assistance. They arrived quickly, but it cost me 30 minutes. Weather conditions remained satisfactory for visual flight so I was confident I could handle the situation. We departed and were back in touch with Kansas City Center around sunset. At this point, I began turning on all of the cockpit lights and discovered that only a few worked. In my haste, I had not completed the night portion of my pre-flight check. Fortunately I had a flashlight, but with no red lens for it. I began briefing my mother about how to hold the flashlight without shining it in my eyes. She was happy and relaxed. If she had concerns, she wasn’t letting me know. Her baby boy was doing fine.
After sunset, it was nearly impossible to dead reckon navigate. Before long I was off course again. Kansas City Center then handed me over to Indianapolis Center, who later handed me off to Evansville Approach. I asked if they could assist me with my on-course heading. They complied with a radar vector and informed me of my location. I couldn’t find my location on the map. Their laughter in the background was unnerving, driving home the realization that I was in way over my head. I was scared.
Evansville handed me back over to Indianapolis Center. A short time later, I was handed over to Louisville Approach. I began to see city lights off in the distance. It was a relief knowing the conclusion of this voyage was imminent.
I began my descent, and Approach handed me over to Standiford Field. I tuned in the frequency on the only radio I had, called Standiford and got no response. I repeated this call two or three times. Still no answer. Fortunately I remembered the previous approach frequency and called them back. The controller expertly sensed the stress in my voice. After all, I was in unfamiliar territory, almost on top of Standiford Field, my destination of Bowman Field was only four miles away, and I didn’t even have it in sight. Bowman Field looked like all of the other lights in the city. My approach controller agreed to stay with me until I had the airport in sight. He radar vectored me over Bowman Field and told me to look out the left window. I looked, and to my relief, there it was! He immediately handed me off to Bowman Tower.
Bowman Tower instructed me to enter a right downwind for Runway 32. I did this and was beginning to feel a little better. I turned inbound for my final approach and was set up perfectly for a landing on the beautiful “blue” lights below. I froze in horror as I saw a bright headlight on the “runway” pointing directly at me. I immediately brought this to the controller’s attention. He asked me if I was lined up on Runway 32 or the taxiway. My heart sank. I was descending on final, in the landing configuration when the light in front of me suddenly turned onto the active runway and departed. The controller then cleared me to land on Runway 32 or the taxiway. I had very little time to make a decision. With a safe landing assured, and a clearance to land on the taxiway, I elected to use the taxiway. After landing, he cleared me to taxi onto the active “runway” and continue to the ramp where our party was awaiting our arrival.
I am grateful for the controllers in Louisville. I was in over my head all day, and they helped me to the airport and down onto the taxiway for a safe conclusion to the flight. But I’ll bet they would say it was all in a day’s work.
After making so many mistakes, I’m also grateful the chain of events didn’t drag my mother and me into the ground. Considering my lack of experience, I never should have taken her on that flight. To this day, she’s only said how well I flew the plane. I don’t think she ever knew how scared I was, especially when I landed on the taxiway. She may have never known because of the poor radios. We had headsets, but I don’t think hers was working well enough to hear the controllers. She certainly couldn’t hear what was being said into the handheld microphone, and I don’t think she knew I landed on the taxiway.
Any new rating is truly a license to learn and experience should be gained with a more experienced pilot before risking the lives of friends and family. I’ve taken many wonderful cross-country flights since that day and logged many hours of flight time. My confidence has recovered from this first flight, but I’ll never forget it. I now have my commercial pilot’s license, but this story is always worth revisiting. I will not allow myself to repeat the mistakes of the past.
We arrived at the airport in Lee’s Summit, Missouri to find that the plane we had reserved, N5164L, was late returning from a trip the previous day. Their tardiness meant our departure would be delayed. We had to depart Lee’s Summit before 1:00pm to avoid a night approach into Louisville and to arrive on time for the party. We were just about to give up when we were informed that the plane was indeed back and ready for us. It was 12:30pm.
We began rushing to keep our departure on schedule. In my haste, I forgot to latch the door before takeoff, the first link in a negative chain of events on my maiden voyage. Since I had planned a fuel stop to meet reserve requirements anyway, I decided to stay in the air with the unlatched door until I reached Columbia, Missouri. I could top off the tanks in Columbia, latch the door, and we’d be on our way with no time lost. But I soon realized how poorly equipped the airplane was. Although I had flown this plane before, I now noticed it had only one navigational aid, and while the ancient radio hadn’t concerned me before (after all it worked!), it’s handheld microphone was a problem. The unlatched door caused so much wind noise, I could barely hear the air traffic controllers. Barely off the ground, I could feel my stress level rising. We picked up radar service with Kansas City Center. They handled our flight until turning us over to the Columbia tower. We topped off the tanks, latched the door, and were off in no time.
As soon as we were airborne I noticed the heading indicator was not functioning. The compass was oscillating, and I was getting confused as to my direction of flight. I contacted the tower and they radar vectored me back to Columbia so I could set the plane down and diagnose the problem. I found the setting knob gear did not fully disengage from the compass card after adjusting it prior to takeoff. Once properly adjusted, we were on our way.
The clock was ticking and it was evident we were getting close to arriving in Louisville at night. The pressure was rising. I contacted Columbia Departure for flight following, and they handed me back over to the Kansas City Center, which then handed me over to St. Louis Approach. St. Louis Approach began vectoring me south of the Class B airspace, adding more time to our flight. We flew for quite some time before I decided to inquire as to when they might turn me east again. To my dismay, they apologized for not turning me sooner. At this time my flight plan was no longer valid. I began trying to fly direct to Louisville. However, the wind was blowing us south, which left me unsure of my location. I noticed a power plant just north of my position, so I decided to utilize dead reckoning navigation. I also decided to set the airplane down, check the weather, and prepare for a night approach into Louisville’s Bowman Field. We were in Centralia, Illinois. It was late in the day and no one was available to pump gas. I had to call for assistance. They arrived quickly, but it cost me 30 minutes. Weather conditions remained satisfactory for visual flight so I was confident I could handle the situation. We departed and were back in touch with Kansas City Center around sunset. At this point, I began turning on all of the cockpit lights and discovered that only a few worked. In my haste, I had not completed the night portion of my pre-flight check. Fortunately I had a flashlight, but with no red lens for it. I began briefing my mother about how to hold the flashlight without shining it in my eyes. She was happy and relaxed. If she had concerns, she wasn’t letting me know. Her baby boy was doing fine.
After sunset, it was nearly impossible to dead reckon navigate. Before long I was off course again. Kansas City Center then handed me over to Indianapolis Center, who later handed me off to Evansville Approach. I asked if they could assist me with my on-course heading. They complied with a radar vector and informed me of my location. I couldn’t find my location on the map. Their laughter in the background was unnerving, driving home the realization that I was in way over my head. I was scared.
Evansville handed me back over to Indianapolis Center. A short time later, I was handed over to Louisville Approach. I began to see city lights off in the distance. It was a relief knowing the conclusion of this voyage was imminent.
I began my descent, and Approach handed me over to Standiford Field. I tuned in the frequency on the only radio I had, called Standiford and got no response. I repeated this call two or three times. Still no answer. Fortunately I remembered the previous approach frequency and called them back. The controller expertly sensed the stress in my voice. After all, I was in unfamiliar territory, almost on top of Standiford Field, my destination of Bowman Field was only four miles away, and I didn’t even have it in sight. Bowman Field looked like all of the other lights in the city. My approach controller agreed to stay with me until I had the airport in sight. He radar vectored me over Bowman Field and told me to look out the left window. I looked, and to my relief, there it was! He immediately handed me off to Bowman Tower.
Bowman Tower instructed me to enter a right downwind for Runway 32. I did this and was beginning to feel a little better. I turned inbound for my final approach and was set up perfectly for a landing on the beautiful “blue” lights below. I froze in horror as I saw a bright headlight on the “runway” pointing directly at me. I immediately brought this to the controller’s attention. He asked me if I was lined up on Runway 32 or the taxiway. My heart sank. I was descending on final, in the landing configuration when the light in front of me suddenly turned onto the active runway and departed. The controller then cleared me to land on Runway 32 or the taxiway. I had very little time to make a decision. With a safe landing assured, and a clearance to land on the taxiway, I elected to use the taxiway. After landing, he cleared me to taxi onto the active “runway” and continue to the ramp where our party was awaiting our arrival.
I am grateful for the controllers in Louisville. I was in over my head all day, and they helped me to the airport and down onto the taxiway for a safe conclusion to the flight. But I’ll bet they would say it was all in a day’s work.
After making so many mistakes, I’m also grateful the chain of events didn’t drag my mother and me into the ground. Considering my lack of experience, I never should have taken her on that flight. To this day, she’s only said how well I flew the plane. I don’t think she ever knew how scared I was, especially when I landed on the taxiway. She may have never known because of the poor radios. We had headsets, but I don’t think hers was working well enough to hear the controllers. She certainly couldn’t hear what was being said into the handheld microphone, and I don’t think she knew I landed on the taxiway.
Any new rating is truly a license to learn and experience should be gained with a more experienced pilot before risking the lives of friends and family. I’ve taken many wonderful cross-country flights since that day and logged many hours of flight time. My confidence has recovered from this first flight, but I’ll never forget it. I now have my commercial pilot’s license, but this story is always worth revisiting. I will not allow myself to repeat the mistakes of the past.
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