I have had so much work travel lately, it's been hard to find time to fly...much less blog about flying.
I've continued doing solo practice when I can--ground reference maneuvers, performance takeoffs and landings, and such--and also getting back into the book-studying again, in preparation for my test, which I hope to take in August.
One of the requirements for the private pilot certificate is to receive 3 hours of instrument training...basically, just a "taste" of flying solely by reference to instruments. Joel and I talked about this requirement some time ago, and decided it would be more educational--and fun--to actually do it as an instrument flight rules (IFR) flight somewhere.
Last Friday morning, Joel filed IFR from Olympia to Troutdale (KTTD), a small GA airport on the east side of Portland. I had never been there before, so the flight promised to be full of new experiences for me.
A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a copy of the FAA Instrument Flying Handbook, which gives a pretty good overview of the basics. And with the few hundred hours of simulator instrument flying I've done over the years, I was comfortable with many aspects of the flight. But I had no idea what to expect from--and in fact was quite apprehensive about--flying in actual instrument conditions.
I secured time off work on Friday morning, and met Joel at the hangar at 8:30. After preflight, we started the engine and for the first time, I called up the ground controller and requested an IFR clearance. I copied everything down, read it back, went over it with Joel, and we taxied out.
We were assigned runway heading on departure, which was good, since I would only have to deal with punching through the cloud layer--about 2000' thick, starting at 1500' above ground--rather than turning in it too. As we climbed, it was an odd feeling to be approaching the clouds, which I've been trained (and trained myself) to avoid. As they got closer, the visibility closed in a hurry, and soon we were in the soup. I focused mostly on the attitude indicator (aka artificial horizon) but regularly cross-checked against the altimeter and vertical speed indicator (to ensure our rate of climb was steady) as well as the airspeed indicator (to keep it at 75 knots, just a hair faster than best rate of climb). During this time, we switched to the Seattle departure frequency, checked in, and received direct to the Battleground VOR just north of Portland.
We broke out of the layer around 3500, I leveled off at 5000, and I kept heading and altitude within the required bounds for IFR flight. It was actually quite a bit easier than I expected it to be. Joel did quite a bit of teaching about using the Garmin 430 GPS for IFR...it really makes things easy, and I learned things that will be useful for VFR flight as well.
After Battleground, Portland approach had us on vectors (with instructions like, "Cessna 75898, fly heading 220, descend and maintain 4000, vectors final approach course.") I had no real trouble staying ahead of the airplane. We asked for, and received, the GPS-A approach, with vectors to final. Approach took us right over Portland International (KPDX), and I allowed a quick glance out the window to the big runways, terminal, and lots of activity below (the sky over Portland was scattered at about 3500'). Our next vector took us right over downtown Portland towards Troutdale, with a nice steady descent.
When we broke out of the last bit of clouds, Troutdale was right in front of us, and the approach controller gave us the tower frequency for Hillsboro (KHIO)...which we dutifully tuned in. It took a few exchanges before the controller realized we were on the wrong frequency, and told us so. We looked at the approach plate, noted the frequency there, and dialed it up. We were advised of a departing helicopter and instructed to circle north of the field for runway 25. There was a lot going on and I did get a little behind the plane, overshot final, but salvaged a barely acceptable landing. My first IFR flight was in the books!
We taxied to the FBO, and while Joel went inside I called up flight service and filed our flight plan back...actually, Joel got to supervise the whole thing because it took me some time to get everything organized and get ahold of a flight service specialist. No issues filing, we were back in the aircraft for the flight home. We were given the Blue Lake 3 departure out of Troutdale, which has pre-determined vectors to fly, but it was no problem for me (with Joel's help announcing each change a bit before I needed to do it.) After we broke through the clouds, we were immediately advised of a Delta heavy Airbus 1000' above us, 8 miles ahead, moving from our 2:00 to 8:00 (inbound to PDX.) I picked him up first, moving right along, no factor for us, but looking pretty in the morning sunshine.
Our route home took us right by Mt. St. Helens, then we set up for the RNAV approach to runway 35 at KOLM. Again the Garmin made it pretty easy, though I struggled a bit to keep the needle centered, especially in and out of the clouds. The winds were blowing and a little variable at Olympia, so the pattern and landing were bumpy and interesting, but I nailed it and was glad to be home.
It was a very enjoyable way to satisfy this part of my training requirements, and helped convince me that I want to continue on and get the instrument rating. But first things first...the private, which is getting closer by the day.
Flight track (Google Earth) for the flight is here.
The flightaware.com history for 75898, including our flights, is here.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Practice, practice
Last night the forecast for the Puget Sound area was not looking good for a flight this morning...ceilings were supposed to be around 2000', way below what I can fly in.
However, I was awakened this morning at about 6:30 by the sound of aviation in progress...one aircraft approaching KOLM from the northeast, right over the house...as well as a garden full of birds of various types. There was also the distinct hue of sunlight hitting the treetops out the window. As I stumbled to the coffee pot, I regretted canceling my reservation on 898 last night...but happily a quick call to the club reservation system told me that the ship was still available. I did a quick online weather briefing, convinced myself the clouds would stay away until afternoon, and by 7:30 I was out the door for the airport.
The tower opened as I was finishing up pre-flight (at 8 a.m.), and by about 8:15 I was in the air. The goal for today was to practice steep turns and ground reference maneuvers. I made a couple of circuits around the patch at KOLM...my standard practice on non-cross country flights. I did one takeoff as a soft field, and one as a short field. The landing in between was a short field as well. I did all of them just fine--on the soft field, 898 sure doesn't stay in ground effect very long before getting to Vx (60 kts)...maybe two seconds.
After the two circuits, I headed south and up to 3000' for steep turns. I did them fine both right and left, and all four times felt the tell-tale "bump" of crossing my own wake just prior to roll-out. Then down to 900' above ground level (AGL) to practice turns around a point and S-turns across a road. I think these still could get better, but I believe they were within checkride standards. Maybe one more practice session and I'll declare myself ready.
The marine push that's headed into our area, with stratus clouds chasing away the nice high pressure we've had for two days, was starting to inch closer from the southwest. Between that, and not wanting to disturb further the folks whose farm field I'd been circling, I decided to head north and practice a little more. I did some more turns around a point near Oyster Bay, between Olympia and Shelton, and then headed back in.
1.2 hours in the logbook, a good amount of fun, and some boosted confidence that I'm getting really close to the checkride.
Flight track in Google Earth is here. I'm still finding GPS Visualizer to be a very cool tool. Unfortunately, the GPS had a little hiccup in the pattern on one circuit--no, I really didn't make an abrupt turn like that!
I also played around with adding Lloyd Bailey's airspace layers for Google Earth, so I could see today's flight track in relation to the Olympia Class D. The cylinder around Olympia (approximately 5 nm radius and up to 2500' above the airport surface area) requires pilots to establish and maintain two-way radio communication with the tower prior to entry.
Here's the approximate area of the flight from the Seattle terminal area chart...the Class D is the blue dashed line around KOLM...
However, I was awakened this morning at about 6:30 by the sound of aviation in progress...one aircraft approaching KOLM from the northeast, right over the house...as well as a garden full of birds of various types. There was also the distinct hue of sunlight hitting the treetops out the window. As I stumbled to the coffee pot, I regretted canceling my reservation on 898 last night...but happily a quick call to the club reservation system told me that the ship was still available. I did a quick online weather briefing, convinced myself the clouds would stay away until afternoon, and by 7:30 I was out the door for the airport.
The tower opened as I was finishing up pre-flight (at 8 a.m.), and by about 8:15 I was in the air. The goal for today was to practice steep turns and ground reference maneuvers. I made a couple of circuits around the patch at KOLM...my standard practice on non-cross country flights. I did one takeoff as a soft field, and one as a short field. The landing in between was a short field as well. I did all of them just fine--on the soft field, 898 sure doesn't stay in ground effect very long before getting to Vx (60 kts)...maybe two seconds.
After the two circuits, I headed south and up to 3000' for steep turns. I did them fine both right and left, and all four times felt the tell-tale "bump" of crossing my own wake just prior to roll-out. Then down to 900' above ground level (AGL) to practice turns around a point and S-turns across a road. I think these still could get better, but I believe they were within checkride standards. Maybe one more practice session and I'll declare myself ready.
The marine push that's headed into our area, with stratus clouds chasing away the nice high pressure we've had for two days, was starting to inch closer from the southwest. Between that, and not wanting to disturb further the folks whose farm field I'd been circling, I decided to head north and practice a little more. I did some more turns around a point near Oyster Bay, between Olympia and Shelton, and then headed back in.
1.2 hours in the logbook, a good amount of fun, and some boosted confidence that I'm getting really close to the checkride.
Flight track in Google Earth is here. I'm still finding GPS Visualizer to be a very cool tool. Unfortunately, the GPS had a little hiccup in the pattern on one circuit--no, I really didn't make an abrupt turn like that!
I also played around with adding Lloyd Bailey's airspace layers for Google Earth, so I could see today's flight track in relation to the Olympia Class D. The cylinder around Olympia (approximately 5 nm radius and up to 2500' above the airport surface area) requires pilots to establish and maintain two-way radio communication with the tower prior to entry.
Here's the approximate area of the flight from the Seattle terminal area chart...the Class D is the blue dashed line around KOLM...
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Non-starter
It's been a week since I flew last, and this post is late partially because of a busy work and family schedule, and partly because it's taken almost a week for the story of the flight to unfold...
Now that I hopefully have your interest piqued...
I met Joel last Saturday morning in Olympia, on his way to work, to get his signoff on a solo cross country flight to Jefferson County International (0S9) in Port Townsend, Washington. It was a terrific day weather-wise, a nice break from the recent prevailing conditions.
I decided to use this flight to practice dead reckoning navigation, where the idea is to choose checkpoints along the way and use estimates of airspeed and winds aloft to determine the arrival at each point. In flight, the pilot tracks progress and time, and corrects the ETA at each point. It's a nice skill to have, and I think it makes flying more fun than just hitting "direct to" on the GPS and motoring along. Maybe at some point in my flying I'll prefer that, but for now, I really like the extra bit of planning, analysis, and in-flight computation.
I called Flight Service an hour before my planned 1730 PDT launch and got a full weather briefing. It was pretty boring...severe clear and calm winds all the way, with no NOTAMs or TFRs either. I filed a VFR flight plan, and headed to the airport.
The flight was terrific. The winds were a little stronger and more westerly than forecast, but only enough to add a couple of minutes to the 35 minute flight. I asked for, and received, VFR flight following from Seattle approach all the way, and once again enjoyed practicing radio skills (not to mention having assistance from radar in watching for traffic!) The landing in Port Townsend was a little left of the centerline, which I didn't like...but the touchdown was my smoothest ever, which I liked very much. I've posted the video of the trip on YouTube.
I've also started posting GPS tracks of my flights to Google Maps; this link should open the track in Google Earth, if you have it installed.
I landed at Port Townsend, taxied to the transient parking, and shut down. I called Flight Service to close my flight plan, called Deb to check in, and walked around a little to stretch my legs. After about 10 minutes, I hopped back in, ran the checklist, and turned the ignition to "start". Nothing. Primed it, tried again. Nothing. Sat for 10 minutes or so, tried again. Nothing. Both a mechanic on the field and another pilot offered assistance, but nothing we tried would get 898 started.
To cut to the chase...I wound up calling Deb back to drive 2 hours to pick me up, then drove 2 hours back home. It turns out the left magneto had died (good thing there are two!), and it is the one used to start the engine. It clearly died during flight, since the magneto check I performed during runup at Olympia was 100% normal.
I left the aircraft there all week, allowing the mechanic to overhaul the magnetos. He finished up yesterday, and Center O folks went up to pick it up today.
Magnetos tend to last about 500 hours, and these were getting close. It's ordinary wear-and-tear, and really illustrated for me how important dual mags are.
All the folks I encountered at Port Townsend were extraordinarily friendly and helpful, from the pilot and mechanic who tried to help me get it started, to the family who offered me a ride to a nearby restaurant to wait for Deb to pick me up. I need to go back up there when I get my ticket and buy them all a slice of pie at the Spruce Goose (the cafe on the field).
Lots of work travel these days, but I hope to fly again later this week or next weekend.
Now that I hopefully have your interest piqued...
I met Joel last Saturday morning in Olympia, on his way to work, to get his signoff on a solo cross country flight to Jefferson County International (0S9) in Port Townsend, Washington. It was a terrific day weather-wise, a nice break from the recent prevailing conditions.
I decided to use this flight to practice dead reckoning navigation, where the idea is to choose checkpoints along the way and use estimates of airspeed and winds aloft to determine the arrival at each point. In flight, the pilot tracks progress and time, and corrects the ETA at each point. It's a nice skill to have, and I think it makes flying more fun than just hitting "direct to" on the GPS and motoring along. Maybe at some point in my flying I'll prefer that, but for now, I really like the extra bit of planning, analysis, and in-flight computation.
I called Flight Service an hour before my planned 1730 PDT launch and got a full weather briefing. It was pretty boring...severe clear and calm winds all the way, with no NOTAMs or TFRs either. I filed a VFR flight plan, and headed to the airport.
The flight was terrific. The winds were a little stronger and more westerly than forecast, but only enough to add a couple of minutes to the 35 minute flight. I asked for, and received, VFR flight following from Seattle approach all the way, and once again enjoyed practicing radio skills (not to mention having assistance from radar in watching for traffic!) The landing in Port Townsend was a little left of the centerline, which I didn't like...but the touchdown was my smoothest ever, which I liked very much. I've posted the video of the trip on YouTube.
I've also started posting GPS tracks of my flights to Google Maps; this link should open the track in Google Earth, if you have it installed.
I landed at Port Townsend, taxied to the transient parking, and shut down. I called Flight Service to close my flight plan, called Deb to check in, and walked around a little to stretch my legs. After about 10 minutes, I hopped back in, ran the checklist, and turned the ignition to "start". Nothing. Primed it, tried again. Nothing. Sat for 10 minutes or so, tried again. Nothing. Both a mechanic on the field and another pilot offered assistance, but nothing we tried would get 898 started.
To cut to the chase...I wound up calling Deb back to drive 2 hours to pick me up, then drove 2 hours back home. It turns out the left magneto had died (good thing there are two!), and it is the one used to start the engine. It clearly died during flight, since the magneto check I performed during runup at Olympia was 100% normal.
I left the aircraft there all week, allowing the mechanic to overhaul the magnetos. He finished up yesterday, and Center O folks went up to pick it up today.
Magnetos tend to last about 500 hours, and these were getting close. It's ordinary wear-and-tear, and really illustrated for me how important dual mags are.
All the folks I encountered at Port Townsend were extraordinarily friendly and helpful, from the pilot and mechanic who tried to help me get it started, to the family who offered me a ride to a nearby restaurant to wait for Deb to pick me up. I need to go back up there when I get my ticket and buy them all a slice of pie at the Spruce Goose (the cafe on the field).
Lots of work travel these days, but I hope to fly again later this week or next weekend.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Quick flight today
I took half the day off today to go flying. I met with Joel to go over plans for a cross country flight to Jefferson County Airport (0S9), which would allow me to scout the first part of my intended long cross-country route to Friday Harbor. Skies dawned mostly clear this morning in Olympia, with only some high cirrus and usual low-level morning scud that would burn off by 9.
Michael had a music concert at school at 11, so my plan was to head to the airport right after that. Unfortunately, mother nature had other plans...the 11 am forecasts did not look good for places further north. After the concert I made the call to cancel the cross country and just practice maneuvers around KOLM, where the weather was still quite good.
However, those plans didn't work out either. Since the last time I flew 898, she had an oil change, and in the course of that maintenance task some of the cowling fasteners didn't quite make it back on securely. This is a fairly normal thing on Cessna 172s, but I was concerned about the extent of the gap between cowling and mount on one side. Despite a hunch that it was perfectly ok to fly, I decided to cancel the afternoon flight until I could consult with Joel.
I finally talked to Joel after 5, and we agreed the aircraft was safe to fly. In the meantime, the club's maintenance officer for 898 called me and also assured me it was safe, and also mentioned that he managed to reattach two of the missing fasteners. I was able to get a third opinion when I showed up at the hangar around 6:30 to find the club president working with another club aircraft in the hangar next door. So by the time I launched, I had no fewer than three expert opinions, all reinforcing what my gut told me this afternoon, but all the same giving me a higher comfort level that I could fly safely.
So I launched under mid-level stratus (6000') and the calmest winds I've ever experienced. There was not a bump to be had at any point tonight...lovely! I did my customary trip around the patch and headed south to practice maneuvers. I did a decent job at "turns around a point" and as I rolled out of the last one, I saw rain bands falling about 3 miles south, headed my way. Back to Olympia, where I encountered some light showers, two more pattern circuits, and back in the hangar.
I played around with GPS Visualizer by simply turning our Garmin handheld GPS on and leaving it in my flight bag. A couple of quick up/down loads at home, and I was able to produce this in Google Earth:
This will be yet another fun toy to play with, and is actually really helpful for grading myself on maneuvers. Here is a close-up of my "turns around a point"...
One of the turns with a "bulge" to the east was a "clearing turn", which we do to ensure no other traffic are nearby, and also to signal to any such traffic that we are maneuvering. And the other one was, simply put, a poorly performed turn. But I was pleased with the two tight ones! I was emphasizing keeping altitude and airspeed pegged throughout, and I accomplished both (1000' above ground, and 90 knots).
Video of tonight's flight forthcoming this weekend...I tried turning off autofocus, and also used a $3 mono/stereo adapter from Radio Shack to try to get the intercom patch in stereo. Hopefully that will improve the video quality.
Next aircraft time scheduled for Saturday evening...I may try again to go up to Jeff Co, or I had so much fun with maneuvers, I might just do more of that.
Michael had a music concert at school at 11, so my plan was to head to the airport right after that. Unfortunately, mother nature had other plans...the 11 am forecasts did not look good for places further north. After the concert I made the call to cancel the cross country and just practice maneuvers around KOLM, where the weather was still quite good.
However, those plans didn't work out either. Since the last time I flew 898, she had an oil change, and in the course of that maintenance task some of the cowling fasteners didn't quite make it back on securely. This is a fairly normal thing on Cessna 172s, but I was concerned about the extent of the gap between cowling and mount on one side. Despite a hunch that it was perfectly ok to fly, I decided to cancel the afternoon flight until I could consult with Joel.
I finally talked to Joel after 5, and we agreed the aircraft was safe to fly. In the meantime, the club's maintenance officer for 898 called me and also assured me it was safe, and also mentioned that he managed to reattach two of the missing fasteners. I was able to get a third opinion when I showed up at the hangar around 6:30 to find the club president working with another club aircraft in the hangar next door. So by the time I launched, I had no fewer than three expert opinions, all reinforcing what my gut told me this afternoon, but all the same giving me a higher comfort level that I could fly safely.
So I launched under mid-level stratus (6000') and the calmest winds I've ever experienced. There was not a bump to be had at any point tonight...lovely! I did my customary trip around the patch and headed south to practice maneuvers. I did a decent job at "turns around a point" and as I rolled out of the last one, I saw rain bands falling about 3 miles south, headed my way. Back to Olympia, where I encountered some light showers, two more pattern circuits, and back in the hangar.
I played around with GPS Visualizer by simply turning our Garmin handheld GPS on and leaving it in my flight bag. A couple of quick up/down loads at home, and I was able to produce this in Google Earth:
This will be yet another fun toy to play with, and is actually really helpful for grading myself on maneuvers. Here is a close-up of my "turns around a point"...
One of the turns with a "bulge" to the east was a "clearing turn", which we do to ensure no other traffic are nearby, and also to signal to any such traffic that we are maneuvering. And the other one was, simply put, a poorly performed turn. But I was pleased with the two tight ones! I was emphasizing keeping altitude and airspeed pegged throughout, and I accomplished both (1000' above ground, and 90 knots).
Video of tonight's flight forthcoming this weekend...I tried turning off autofocus, and also used a $3 mono/stereo adapter from Radio Shack to try to get the intercom patch in stereo. Hopefully that will improve the video quality.
Next aircraft time scheduled for Saturday evening...I may try again to go up to Jeff Co, or I had so much fun with maneuvers, I might just do more of that.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Tribute to 898
Wow do I love this airplane!
I awoke this morning to greater visibility and higher ceilings than forecast, and a quick call to the club reservation line confirmed that she was available until 10. A quick cup of coffee and shower, and I was at the field by 8:30 to practice performance takeoffs and landings.
In the cool morning air, with the sun just a few degrees above the Cascade Mountains on the eastern horizon, she really wanted to climb. My first practice takeoff was a short-field takeoff, where the pilot climbs in the shortest lateral distance possible, in order to avoid that (imaginary) obstacle at the end of the (imaginarily short) runway. The vertical speed indicator was pegged and all I could see ahead was sky. As the common expression goes, she was like a homesick angel...I had barely turned crosswind and she was at pattern altitude (1000' feet above the ground).
After an hour in the air, I landed so she could make her 10 am appointment with fellow club member Bruce. As they taxied out together and took off, I captured the scene on video.
I awoke this morning to greater visibility and higher ceilings than forecast, and a quick call to the club reservation line confirmed that she was available until 10. A quick cup of coffee and shower, and I was at the field by 8:30 to practice performance takeoffs and landings.
In the cool morning air, with the sun just a few degrees above the Cascade Mountains on the eastern horizon, she really wanted to climb. My first practice takeoff was a short-field takeoff, where the pilot climbs in the shortest lateral distance possible, in order to avoid that (imaginary) obstacle at the end of the (imaginarily short) runway. The vertical speed indicator was pegged and all I could see ahead was sky. As the common expression goes, she was like a homesick angel...I had barely turned crosswind and she was at pattern altitude (1000' feet above the ground).
After an hour in the air, I landed so she could make her 10 am appointment with fellow club member Bruce. As they taxied out together and took off, I captured the scene on video.
Lesson at Shelton
Wednesday evening I had a lesson with Joel, and we decided since I am signed off to solo to Shelton that I'd fly up there to pick him up. We planned to meet there at 6:15 and even though we both agreed I'd take as much time as I needed to get there, I pulled up in front of his hangar at 6:17. Better to be lucky than good!
The flight was my first with my new video setup. The results were much better than clamping the camera to the front right seat...the view is over the cowling with minimal blockage (in fact, with it zoomed in a bit, you can't even see the cowling.) Only one remaining thing to fix: turn autofocus off! I'm thinking I need a little checklist for the video setup...will have to work on that.
The video is out on the YouTube channel; direct link is here.
After I picked up Joel we worked on high performance takeoffs and landings. These tasks, required for the private pilot license, simulate taking off and landing at short fields (where the runway is short and/or there is an obstacle in the way) and soft fields (muddy, snowy, grassy). It took a couple of times, but I eventually managed to perform each one within standard limits.
We then went out west of Shelton to practice stalls. A stall is a maneuver where the pilot intentionally raises the "angle of attack"--basically, the angle between the wing and the wind--to a critical level, so that the wing stops flying. Obviously, outside of aerobatics, this is not something that's part of everyday, ordinary flight, but practicing the maneuver helps pilots be aware of what causes it, and therefore how to avoid it...and also how to recover, should one occur.
Prior to the lesson, I was not 100% comfortable doing stalls solo, but the lesson gave me the confidence to do so. Hope to get that practice in on a near-future solo flight.
After an hour, I dropped Joel off at his hangar and flew back to Olympia. We reviewed the remaining things I needed to do before my test--and there aren't that many. It's mostly a matter of proficiency and comfort level at this point.
The flight was my first with my new video setup. The results were much better than clamping the camera to the front right seat...the view is over the cowling with minimal blockage (in fact, with it zoomed in a bit, you can't even see the cowling.) Only one remaining thing to fix: turn autofocus off! I'm thinking I need a little checklist for the video setup...will have to work on that.
The video is out on the YouTube channel; direct link is here.
After I picked up Joel we worked on high performance takeoffs and landings. These tasks, required for the private pilot license, simulate taking off and landing at short fields (where the runway is short and/or there is an obstacle in the way) and soft fields (muddy, snowy, grassy). It took a couple of times, but I eventually managed to perform each one within standard limits.
We then went out west of Shelton to practice stalls. A stall is a maneuver where the pilot intentionally raises the "angle of attack"--basically, the angle between the wing and the wind--to a critical level, so that the wing stops flying. Obviously, outside of aerobatics, this is not something that's part of everyday, ordinary flight, but practicing the maneuver helps pilots be aware of what causes it, and therefore how to avoid it...and also how to recover, should one occur.
Prior to the lesson, I was not 100% comfortable doing stalls solo, but the lesson gave me the confidence to do so. Hope to get that practice in on a near-future solo flight.
After an hour, I dropped Joel off at his hangar and flew back to Olympia. We reviewed the remaining things I needed to do before my test--and there aren't that many. It's mostly a matter of proficiency and comfort level at this point.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Video gadgets: ProMaster Clamper
Deb (my wife) wanted a new camera bag for Mothers Day, so we took advantage of a visit to Seattle to stop in at Talls Camera to shop. While she was trying out most of the bags in the store, I wandered over to the tripod section and had my attention drawn to a product called the Clamper. This cool little device seemed like it would work better than my current setup--using a GorillaPod to hug the top of the passenger seat.
The problem with the current setup is that it can't get adequate clearance over the panel. In every phase of flight except final approach (and, I suppose, steep descent), all you can see is the top third of the panel and blue sky. Not very entertaining.
I considered Frank Holbert's setup but was concerned about the camera blocking too much of the glareshield, not to mention bouncing around (Frank's assurances notwithstanding!)
In N75898, as in every C172 I suppose, there are about 4 inches of dash "overhang" above the panel...perfect for clamping a device like the Clamper. Remembering this in the store yesterday, I bought one (for the apparent bargain of $40). I went out to the airport today at lunch to try it out, and it worked great!
I've taken several videos with the current setup, but because of the limited view I haven't found them worth posting to my YouTube channel. But I expect that will change--maybe this weekend--with this new addition to the lineup.
The problem with the current setup is that it can't get adequate clearance over the panel. In every phase of flight except final approach (and, I suppose, steep descent), all you can see is the top third of the panel and blue sky. Not very entertaining.
I considered Frank Holbert's setup but was concerned about the camera blocking too much of the glareshield, not to mention bouncing around (Frank's assurances notwithstanding!)
In N75898, as in every C172 I suppose, there are about 4 inches of dash "overhang" above the panel...perfect for clamping a device like the Clamper. Remembering this in the store yesterday, I bought one (for the apparent bargain of $40). I went out to the airport today at lunch to try it out, and it worked great!
I've taken several videos with the current setup, but because of the limited view I haven't found them worth posting to my YouTube channel. But I expect that will change--maybe this weekend--with this new addition to the lineup.
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