All the talk recently about safe flying practices brought back a moment I had when I was in the last stage of doing my GA license over 20 years ago. I was practising circuits at the old Geelong airport — now a housing estate — on the somewhat notorious runway 27. Notorious because it required you to fly across the highway on late final, avoid the high-tension powerlines running along the road and then land smartly, because the office full of flying instructors was right at the edge of the apron. No pressure…
The Cessna 172 I was flying was a much loved and abused workhorse. Here was me with maybe 25 hours, continuing that abuse as a recent GFPT holder. That’s what you got back before RPL after you had soloed. If I am honest, I have never been a fan of circuits. Not when I could be flying elsewhere. But even I understood that many circuits make a better landing pilot. Eventually…
It was probably the fifth or sixth circuit where things went a little pear shaped. I planned to try to get the aircraft slowed down sufficiently on downwind and would use the base turn to wash off enough speed to get me in the white arc for flaps, drop a notch of flap and make my base call all together. That sounds like too much all at once for a new pilot, right? And it was, as things turned out.
Running downwind, I had the plane running a little faster than it needed to be. I needed to slow down. The extra speed had put me further downwind than expected and now I really needed to get around on base, so I hauled it round sharpishly to get on base quickly, dropping the throttle, keeping the nose up to wash off speed to airspeed in to the white arc with the flap down. I had a radio call to make, which I started, and then it happened. The left/inside wing dropped. Along with my heart. At the time it felt like a full stall but in reality, it probably just dropped a couple of feet. Whatever it was, I was truly paying attention now. I’d love to tell you about the conscious control inputs I made to rectify the situation, but all I remember is sticking in some rudder and adding throttle. But I’m not even certain about that. Barely formed instinct took over and the fact that the 172 is a very benign aircraft probably saved me. I got the thing flying straight again and decided judiciously that a) this would be a go around and b) I’d be landing after this circuit. They say mistakes are the best teacher and I have to say that this little lesson has stayed with me: Never get casual in the circuit. Don’t try to do too much at once.
If you’ve had a life lesson like this, we would love to hear about it at editor@sportspilot.net.au
