The Fine Art of Multi-Tasking

So say you’re in med school and just as you’re finishing up your challenging anatomy class, preparing for the final, your professors decide to throw you into a surgical residency – something you’ve never done before, and is potentially dangerous – and expect you to complete a solo surgery after, say, 6 lessons. Are you feeling the pressure? Welcome to the last two weeks or so of UPT. While the example above would likely never happen in real life (plus, I know absolutely nothing about med school, so my examples were probably totally inaccurate, but you get the gist), pilot training is on the fast-track and certainly testing my poor husband’s ability to multi-task with the best of them.

As he was fully immersed in finishing up his last few instrument flights and pending checkride, he also began flying formation flights. H calls formation flying “the planes holding hands”, which is totally adorable, but also pretty accurate. To demonstrate, C and H modeled approximately how far apart the planes might be in the air:

Planes fly in formation in order to provide mutual support, flying about 10 feet apart in fingertip formation, and using both voice and hand signals for communication.

Photo: rides.webshots.com

C did, indeed, finish instruments with a stellar checkride, and also completed enough flights for his formation solo (yes, there is a solo in every phase, but the initial solo is the “big one”). Though formation flying was like a hard shove out of his comfort zone – as a former airline pilot, he had been trained NOT to get close to other planes – he’s getting the hang of it and feeling more comfortable. And the good news is, after today, C officially has 9 flights left until he has completed his training in the T-6 (that means we’re almost at the halfway point!). Coming up next? Track select at the end of April, but more on that to come…(Gotta create a little suspense!) 

Cohabitating with the Invisible Man

My husband still lives with me…I think. You see, these days it’s hard to tell. Sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of him as he inhales his dinner or brushes his teeth. Otherwise, he’s mostly invisible.

The Invisible Man

To make up for the inclement weather last month, the students are working non-stop this month. This means long hours and weekend flying. They are double- and triple-turning (flights and sims back to back) most days, leading to late nights studying and overwhelming exhaustion.

The good news is, as of this Monday, C’s flight is on “informal release”. As previously mentioned, “formal release” means that they didn’t get to leave the flight room during the day. Now, if they are not scheduled for an event (flight, sim, class, etc.), they have the freedom to leave, as long as they are in the flight room at the beginning of each “step” (each round of flights – 3 per day, typically) and for the formal brief in the morning. While the jam-packed schedule doesn’t leave a lot of time to pursue that freedom at present, it’s nice to know that sometime soon we might get to have lunch together or he can study at home instead of in the flight room, putting us at least in the same room together.

Of course, all this hard work means that C is progressing through pilot training at lightning speed. In the past two weeks he has had (and passed) his final contact checkride, gotten about 90% of the way through instrument training (checkride next week), and completed his cross country flight and night flight requirements.

 

C’s cross country flight was this past weekend. It’s typically one of the highlights of the T-6 program, 1) because it’s something different, and 2) because usually they go some place fun. C and his instructor, along with a small group of other students and instructors, flew to Phoenix for the first night and Denver for the second. The flights went well, minus a small electrical problem, and C came home to begin another busy week.

I’d love to report that calmer waters are on the horizon, but with spring weather taking hold, it looks like our winter reprieve is over for now.

A Heart Full of Sorrow

I witnessed something both tragic and amazing this week. My neighbors on base went through the most heart-wrenching tragedy. I cannot imagine a pain more relentless than what they are facing now. While on one hand, my heart breaks for them, it also swells at the outpouring of support that instantaneously appeared from the base community.

Recently, I took on a couple of new roles on base. I have become an officer for the Student Spouse Group (a social group that empowers student spouses to come together) and, in turn, a “key spouse”. Key spouses are found on every base throughout the country and are representative of a particular population (I, with my two other comrades, represent the student spouses). Basically, we are the Yellow Pages for our community: We offer support for spouses and we can direct them to additional resources should the need arise.

Because of these new roles, when tragedy struck, I was fielding phone calls and e-mails from concerned families before the lights and sirens had left my street. People who have never met my neighbors were crying for them and offering selfless acts of kindness, from meal delivery to babysitting. People have stopped me at the commissary and the pet store asking, “What can I do?”

This community has shown its true colors this week. As someone who is still fairly new to military life, this was not what I expected, but I am so proud to be a part of it. Society at large has something to learn from this family we call the Air Force. 

Standing Still

C soloed to the area yesterday! He has only 4 flights left until his final Contact checkride.

That's it. Really. I have absolutely nothing else to report. The snow is moving in for the second week in a row and life as we know it has come to a standstill. Rumor has it the students will soon be flying weekends in order to make up for the lack of weekday flying.

Therefore, in lieu of anything exciting to share, I'd like to share this video that C says, "Is exactly what [he does] every day!" It makes me a little nauseous just watching it, which makes me all the more impressed with C's dedication and success.

It May Not Be 1999...

…But we definitely have cause to party like it is!

Winter in pilot training is an odd paradox of busy inactivity. By this I mean, when the weather is poor, the idleness is stifling. But when the sun makes its triumphant return, the rush to squeeze in as many flights as possible to get caught up and progress is enough to make your head spin. After C’s solo flight, he flew once in about 3 weeks. (This was not just due to weather, but also cancelations and various other schedule changes) Then, suddenly, he double-turned (meaning two flights or a sim and a flight, back to back) three days in one week and went up for his mid-phase check-ride during the same week. The check-ride itself was enough to get the blood pumping, with its notorious 60% failure rate.  C passed with flying colors (pun sort of intended) and this week (weather permitting) will progress to his area solo (flying by himself to the practice area to carry out aerobatic maneuvers).

Despite the insanity of the week, everyone – C and I included – had an event to look forward to on Friday night. The night of the celebratory “Solo Party” had finally arrived. The party, of course, is meant to commemorate the achievement of the students on accomplishing their initial solo, but also provides a much-needed opportunity for students and instructors to come together in an informal environment. The (root)beer flowed and jokes abounded in anticipation of the “tie-cutting” ceremony – an Air Force tradition wherein the instructor and student who soloed together have a chance to tell the story of the solo, often including funny anecdotes and frequent embellishments, followed by the instructor hacking away at the student’s tie based on his performance (the lower the cut, the better the flight). 

Just the tip - Way to go, C!

It was nice to see the tension eased with laughter over past mistakes and the amplified camaraderie that success seemed to harbor in the students. 

Bird on a Wire

Birds migrate. This is certainly no big secret. What I didn’t fully comprehend was that, in moving to the southern regions of the U.S., birds migrate HERE. They’re everywhere! From the power lines, to the plentiful harvested fields, and of course, in the air.  The presence of so many feathered creatures not only provides endless entertainment/angst for my dog,

but also causeed the Air Force to develop such terms as: Bird Severe. Naturally, birds and jet engines are not the best combination, but the migration effect is so out of control that the phenomenon has been titled as an actual flight condition (much like weather) that halts or redirects flights.

"Bird Severe"

So, during the winter months of pilot training, not only do students contend with snow, ice, and bone-freezing temperatures, they also are on constant alert for flocks so large they more resemble a black storm cloud. 

It Takes a Trio to Make a Solo

After 12 training flights (plus a post-Christmas “refresher” called an 86-ride) and approximately 5 sim sessions, my husband has finally climbed mountain #1 in UPT: the T-6 initial solo. It was an exciting day for all of us! H & I met our escort (C’s flightmate) in the flight room while C was briefing with his instructor.

C & his IP

After his briefing, he went to “step” for his flight – check in with the SUP, get a weather brief, airfield status, and any other pertinent information, then receive an aircraft assignment.  From there, we followed him over to Life Support, where he donned all of his gear (g-suit, helmet, etc.) to prepare for his flight.

Suiting up

For the first part of the flight, his instructor joined him for 3 normal landings, a go-around, and a break-out and reentry of the pattern, to ensure proficiency before he took off on his own. Upon landing, the instructor hopped out and C was ready to “fly solo”. (Pun completely intended)

Duel to Solo

Before heading out, the IPs have a fun tradition in which they switch name tags with the student to signify “handing over” their wings. This is followed by some sort of pep talk. (In this case, "Have fun. Don't kill yourself.")

Switching name tags

During the initial solo, the student stays in the pattern and practices as many landings as possible before returning, lasting about 30-45 minutes.

Signaling for engine start

After the flight, we had a chance for a few photo ops and congratulatory hugs, 

Our trio

but then C had to prepare to enter stealth mode. Per Air Force tradition, the student is subjected to being tossed in the “dunk tank” after their first solo. (Which, the day before, was covered in ice and has a perpetual layer of muck resting on the bottom)

The dunk tank

If the student is able to sneak past his classmates and make it to the flight room without being caught and dunked, each flight member owes him/her a case of their favorite beverage. C (and his instructor, who was eligible for dunking since it was his first solo as an IP) managed to make it back. So, while he will be enjoying a plethora of beverages, he got drenched anyway, just to honor tradition.

H and I were so proud, watching C take off in an Air Force jet all on his own! There may be more to come, but: Hurdle #1 complete.  

T-6 Initial Solo: Complete

“It’s pretty cool when you’re doing 230 knots at 500 feet, in a 60-degree bank, pulling 4 G’s.”  ~ C