I've taken a long time to get to this point. It's over 40 hours, although I haven't totalled it up to see how much over. I've flown wherever I can, with whomever was available, occasionally settling down with an instructor and getting some real work done. I felt I was ready to try this in mid-December, but the holidays and weather interfered. In early January, my CFI got a job in Alaska and left, and El Nino socked me in for good. At one point, the only way I could have soloed was in a seaplane!

When I met Mike Jones at the FBO, I knew I could work with him, and after a brief flight to get acquainted with each other ("Can you fly?" "Can you teach?") we settled down to exhaustively checking off the FAR requirements for a solo. I had switched instructors (although I do that as often as some people switch TV stations), airplanes (172 to Warrior), and schools. It took 4 lessons to satisfy the Feds, and at that point I'd done exactly 6 landings in a Warrior.

Thursday was a perfect day to solo. We had the airplane booked for 3 hours, planned to do only landings, and the wind was dead calm with a high overcast sky. No sun in my eyes, no crosswinds, no pressure. After an hour and a half of crash and goes, Mike asked me what I wanted to do. "Well, I've been at this an hour and a half, I'm tired, the clouds are lowering and getting dark, and I think I would enjoy it more another day." He replied, "Your landings are safe if not pretty, and it's your call. But I think the call is a good one." So we hung up the headsets and I headed home. The rain started a half hour later.

I awoke to more rain the next morning, Friday the 13th. The forecast had called for thunderstorms lasting through the morning, clearing in the afternoon, and we were scheduled for 1 pm. "Good," I thought, "It's always really calm after a storm moves through." The sky started breaking up into blue patches at 11 am, but when I arrived at the airport a couple of hours later, the flags were flying straight out and the wind was knocking my cap off as I preflighted. Then it would die down, then pick up. Mike came out and we taxied to 1L with the wind 020 at 10.

"Concord Tower, Cessna 7943 Charlie ready at 1L for closed pattern work." I called. Mike looked at me strangely and started to say something, but the tower beat him to it. "7943C, confirm you are a Cherokee?" Ooops. Good start. "Affirm, next time I'll look at the wings first. Cherokee 7943C."

The landings for the most part were better than the day before, but were still notable for high flares, hard touchdowns, and side angles. The only problem was the wind, now 040 at 12. The wind limitation for solo work at this school is 12 kts, and there is also a crosswind limitation. Mike pulled out papers and started doing calculations to see if he would be violating school policy to solo me.

"43C, switch to runway 1R, cleared for the option 1R." Damn. The shorter, narrower runway. I haven't done a good landing on our shorter runways with Mike yet, and this was no exception. I didn't set up well, the wind was picking me up and tossing me all over, and although I was lined up 100' off the ground, by 50' more of my airplane was over the grass bordering the runway than over the runway itself. "To hell with this," I said out loud, and shoved in the throttle, dropped a notch of flaps, and pulled up, watching my airspeed and VSI. "GOOD call," Mike said, making little notations in his notebook.

Two more circuits put me back on 1L. I hadn't received clearance at the numbers, so I callled, "43C, clearance and wind check?" "Cleared for the option, 1L, wind 010 at 8." Smack down the runway. Mike put his calculations away, and I produced a sweet greaser of a landing. At that one, Mike literally jumped up and down in his seat, poked me on the arm with his fist, and said, "YES. That is what I want to see!"

After the next landing, he asked me to pull over to the base of the tower and let him out. For a second I thought, "Do I really want to do this?"... but only for a second, and that was the last doubt I had. After securing the door I called to taxi to the runway, and from that point on, it felt, purely and simply, exactly the thing I should be doing. It was my airplane, my taxi, my runup, and that was everything that was ever meant to be. It felt so utterly and undeniably right.

For the first two circuits on my own, I talked to myself almost constantly. "Throttle in smoothly, tach live, airspeed live, gages in the green, rotate speed, popped off the runway just like Elaine said it would, nose on horizon, check Vy, it'll climb faster, scan for traffic, go to 600' before the turn instead of 500', nice bank, looks good, don't fly over the trailer park, pattern altitude, pitch, throttle 2200, gas, gages, down and welded, mixture, still got a prop, downwind looks good, scan for traffic, 'Number 2, cleared for the option, 1L, 43C', here's the numbers, throttle 1500, notch of flaps, let her down, looking good, turn base, more flaps, final clear, keep turning, notch of flaps, a touch high, settle into the glideslope, looking good, feels good, point at the numbers, point at the numbers, point at the numbers, level, hold it, let her fly, hold it, back pressure, let her fly, wait, wait, wait..." SQUEAK! "Flaps up, throttle in, tach live, airspeed live...." and around again.

As I climbed out from the second landing, I heard a Citation being cleared for takeoff behind me. No factor. I turned to downwind just as they rotated, and took a moment to admire the pretty Cessna jet lifting off and climbing out. (My instructor joked, as I told him this later, "You were SUPPOSED to be paying attention to what you were doing!") There was a King Air on a straight in approach to the runway, and I spotted him easily. I had not received clearance as I passed the numbers, so I asked for it. The tower got back to me as the King Air passed off my left wingtip: "43C, change to 1R, cleared for the option, 1R." Oh. Those words again. I wasn't sure why I was being switched; I had not turned base, the King Air was past me on his final approach, and I've heard they're faster than Warriors. But I was being switched to a runway I've never landed well on.

Oh well, what the heck. I overshot the final, but because I had waited for the King Air to pass, I had plenty of room to maneuver. I lined up. Way high. Point at the numbers, chop the power, let her fly down. This one's a full stop, so I don't have to worry about the length of the runway for a T&G. I can always go around. Point at the numbers, point at the numbers, lined up, don't need to go around, level, let her fly, let her fly... SQUEAK! If I'd had my wits about me I could have made the midfield turnoff, as it's a "high speed" taxiway. But I coasted to the next one, turned off, and contacted ground.

Three of the best landings I had ever done, and all in a row. SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK.

In some ways, this was not the big thrill a lot of people have described to me. There was no adrenaline rush for me. I just felt that it was very right for me to be flying that airplane all by myself, and very natural to set down three nice landings in a row although I'd never done that before. It's a very VERY good feeling.

And now, a word from our sponsors, also known as the Credits Section (yeah, I know, it's only a solo, not a checkride):

Thanks to Bruce McDuff and the folks at Sky Warriors (FTY) for turning me upside down and turning me on to aviation.

Thanks to my California flight instructors: Gene Whitt, Kurt Moeller, and Mike Jones (all at CCR).

Thanks to my Tennessee flight instructor, muse, and mentor: Donna Epes (TRI).

Thanks to all the flight instructors with whom I've flown once or twice (sit down for this list): Pamela deCastro (OAK), Scott Destefans (CCR), Kristi Mansel (CCR), Jen Savitch (LOU), Maria Andersson (CCR), Rick Haisley (CCR), Bob Cartwright (CCR), Robert Pearl (C83, Byron CA, in a Blanik L-13), Fred Overbey (WVI), Ed Jago (307), and Scott Seidel (ASH).

Special thanks to the flight instructor I've tried to fly with three times, getting rained out each time: Rich Stowell. We'll wring it out yet, Rich.

No special thanks to El Nino.