Julie R. Neidlinger: Lone Prairie Flying

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150.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

A Cessna 150 is a smaller-size airplane. Or so I've been told. I've never been in one.

My dad said that when he and his friend were shopping around for a plane, they looked at one but they couldn't both fit in it and get the doors shut (or something like that). They got a 172 instead.

My friend Michael learned to fly in one, but he's a skinny guy so I'm sure his doors shut without problem. ¹

This cartoon is based on a brief conversation with someone about his experiences as a flight instructor in which he and his students used just such a plane.

He talked about how sometimes the door would pop open, and described being crammed into the plane with the larger-size students. He described how, as the day grew hotter, the airplane wasn't even able to climb to traffic pattern altitude with those larger students.

"It's like a lawnmower with wings," he said.

So here are a few exaggerated drawings.

¹ Too bad he forgot he had full flaps and tried to fly a few times around the traffic pattern, which resulted in apparent terror since he couldn't figure out why the plane was handling as it was. "When I realized what was wrong, I just landed the plane, parked it, and walked away." He tells a good story of his UND experiences back in the day.

*This cartoon is also featured on the ProPilotWorld.com forums.

Labels: cartoons, flying stuff

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The four heat settings of the airplane.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

This did not actually happen, verbatim, but came about in a sort of collection of occurrences.

First, there was the chilling experience of a recent cross-country flight.

Then, in talking to dad about it on the phone, he commented that a funny cartoon could emerge from the experience.

Then, on the most recent flying lesson in which I learned that yes, I did indeed wrongly manipulate the heat knob which I found out after saying not 30 seconds into the airplane before even getting the radios set that I was cold could we turn on some heat. I had barely pulled the knob from being flush from the surface. My instructor later turned the heat down commenting that it seemed to come out all on his side and that meant when I was comfortable he was baking.

Hence, the realization that heat in mechanized vehicles always ends up to be the same: variable, with a chance for disagreement.

Sort of like riding in the Suburban with dad, who has all the temperature controls (of which there seems to be an excessive amount, both for the front and back half of the vehicle) set like a finely tuned orchestration. I'm sure it annoys him when I reach over and roughly twist a knob for more heat or air depending on my current status.

In the airplane, there are none of those complex heat adjustments and automatic settings. There are, in fact, only four heat settings, which I have illustrated here for your convenience.

Labels: cartoons, dad, humor

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Hazardous attitudes: Anti-authority.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

I'm sure no one would be this bad.

But it makes for a good illustration of one of the hazardous attitudes.

Labels: cartoons

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We're gonna die!

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

::My father has told me several humorous stories involving a seasoned flight instructor and pilot from some years back. This story, in particular, had us both dying of laughter as he related it to me.::

The flight instructor in question was on vacation in Arizona one winter, and decided to check out the local flight schools. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, or perhaps he had tired of his vacation a bit and wanted to spice things up. He signed up for an introductory flight lesson without divulging his status as pilot and flight instructor and hopped into the airplane with a young flight instructor. Things started out fine, apparently, and I imagine the poor fellow who was giving that introductory flight lesson had no idea just who was sitting so innocently next to him at the controls.

At some point, during this lofty experience, the older flight instructor managed to get the airplane into a spin while either wedging his feet and hands in such a way -- somehow locking the controls -- so that the young fellow giving the flight had no working yoke or rudder pedals. Try as he might, the young flight instructor could not get the plane out of the spin.

After struggling with the controls for a while, the young instructor, an unknowing victim in the prank, looked over to the old gent, his supposed client, with a huge eyes. "We're gonna die!" he said.

Perhaps having tired of the fun and of the spin, or maybe experiencing a bit of mercy, the older flight instructor got the plane out of the spin and the two headed back towards terra firma in a more controlled fashion. With the plane fully shut down, parked, and chocked, the young flight instructor (as was described by the prankster) staggered back to the building, white-faced and shaken.

I'm curious to hear his side of the story, and to know how long he remained a flight instructor.

Labels: cartoons, humor

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IFR flying.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Click image.

I was talking to dad on the phone yesterday, telling him it looked like I'd be doing my first cross-country solo soon, possibly even on Sunday. We talked briefly about it, and then he made a joke about how he flew IFR.

"IFR?" I asked. Dad isn't instrument rated.

"I follow roads," he joked.

I guess that's a pretty old joke in the flying community, from what he said after that, but it got me to thinking. Which, of course, led to debasement by cartooning.

And so, there you have it. The latest cartoon.

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Buy the original ink and marker drawing. I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.
Materials: Pigment and permanent inks on 8.5x11 super slick 80 lb. UV protected (archival) paper. Unframed
Cost: $20 (plus S&H)

*This cartoon is also featured on the ProPilotWorld.com forums.

Labels: cartoons, cross country, flying stuff, humor

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The angry instructor.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

I had drawn the cartoon you see here on the folder I keep my nav logs and other cross-country forms and information in. My instructor saw the image one day, before a lesson. He's seen the other cartoons I've drawn.

"Why do you always make me look so angry?" he asked with a laugh. "I'm not angry like that."

Um.

Awkward.

He really isn't like the character in the cartoons*. At all.

"It makes for a funnier joke."

For example, look here. Which one is funnier?

Exactly.

* Though I secretly believe the Santa in my web site's Christmas header is accurate.

Labels: cartoons, lessons

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First solo away from the airport.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

Click to see full image.

I should be far more comfortable with flying solo. I've heard that euphemism directed my way a lot the past fifteen years; granted, it had nothing to do with flying. Yet, you'd think a loner such as myself would like it four thousand feet up in the air.

Today I flew solo, but not just in traffic pattern; this time, I went away from the airport. I really needed it to go well. The Seatbelt Disaster had set my mind askew (such a silly thing...), and I was feeling a bit like the cowardly lion.

I also was uneasy about seeing, in the weather forecast, winds at eleven gusting to 20 knots. Granted, it appeared they would be nearly straight down the runway. My instructor said he felt comfortable sending me up in that. It was getting on into evening and it did seem like the winds were dying down. He asked me more than once if I felt comfortable in that.

Frankly, I've been in a state in the past few days which made it so I didn't feel comfortable climbing up on the step stool to gain access the gas tanks on the top of the wing, so I thought it best to not check on my "feelings" about the situation. Sometimes feelings are just a bunch of crap and a person has to beat them down in order to function and accomplish anything. If I did what I felt like doing, as I've said before, I'd probably just be sitting on a couch somewhere eating ice-cream, the size of a small whale.

"Yes, I can do that."

"Do you feel comfortable with that?"

No. I want some kind of security blanket. Someone to do it so I don't have to do it myself. That's what I feel like.

"Maybe no. But yes. Yes, I can do that."

I could be a politician. It's good, though, to be gently pushed to do something that may be difficult in the moment. I mean, no need to make a person feel like crap, but no need to make it too easy to do nothing, either. So. Feel like it? No. Gonna do it? Yes. Yes I can do that.

I was given my instructions: Stay within 20 miles of Bismarck, go to the northeast, fly at 4,500 feet, fly around and maybe practice some maneuvers, head back, get ATIS as you near the point to contact ATC, contact them around the nine-mile mark, etc.

My instructor then gave me the headset, and, since I have no poker face abilities and probably looked ill, reminded me again that this was supposed to be fun.

"Call me when you get back," he said.

With Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor Op. 35¹ running through my head, I headed out the door and climbed into the plane I'd pre-flighted shortly before. I worked my way through the checklists, talked to ground and then tower and then on through takeoff and there I was. Away from the airport by myself.

Since there was no seat belt banging nor excessive turbulence, I admit that I actually had a little fun once I stopped white-knuckling the controls and tensing up on the right rudder pedal. I practiced a few maneuvers: two steep-turns to the right, one to the left and turns around a point. I practiced maintaining a heading and altitude. I tried to be conscious of emergency landing places (northeast of Bismarck one finds a lot of inconvenient gullies). One of the hazardous attitudes is that of invulnerability, thinking that it can't happen to you. I, on the other hand, am fairly certain that not only can it happen to me, but it will. I need to be ready.

Eventually I headed back. I checked ATIS; it was still the same as the one I'd written down when I left. I turned up the volume on tower and was about to contact them when I heard tower tell another plane that ATIS had switched from Delta to Echo. So, because I was getting close to the airspace, I turned around, listened to the new ATIS, wrote it down and adjusted the altimeter, then headed back in.

All was going well. ATC directed me to a right base for runway 31, and to report two miles out. I was working my altitude down, getting set up, and about ready to contact ATC when I heard another pilot get on the radio. It was one of the regional jets, saying he had a visual on runway 31. Tower cleared him in and then told me to enter mid-field on a right downwind for runway 31.

I was so perfectly lined up and close for a lovely right base. Dang. So, I found myself turning back and up north to end up midfield downwind, thinking I was a little close to squeeze it in. I got on the downwind and watched as the jet came in.

I ended up being on quite an extended downwind.

By this time of the evening, there was barely a wind, and it was almost straight down the runway. I probably should have done some stop-and-goes, but my friends Michael and Colleen were inside the building and so I went for a full stop.

The landing was super smooth and soft.

When I got inside the building, I asked Michael if he saw the landing.

"Yep. I saw it."

"It was beautiful, wasn't it?" I asked. "Dropped like a feather on the runway."

All of us laughed.

"You tell my dad about that landing," I later reminded him as he and Colleen were leaving following dinner later that evening.

"I will. I'll tell him it was just like the space shuttle coming in...gliding right down the runway."

When I called my instructor, he first joked that I was still alive, and then asked how it went. "It was OK," I said.

"I had no doubts you could do it."

Well, I did. But everything I do I doubt I can do so I guess that's that.

Tomorrow I am supposed to fly to the Mandan airport, if the weather cooperates (which it looks like it should). I suppose I'll be a new bundle of nerves about it.

¹ Yes, I'm being pretentious. The "Funeral March." Chopin is always such dramatic, wonderful music for any depressive occasion.

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Labels: cartoons, landings, lessons, solo

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Get a hard copy of the cartoons.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

If you've enjoyed the cartoons on the Lone Prairie web site (both on this blog and the other blogs), you'll want to head on over and download a hard copy of the entire collection.

The bonus? There are cartoons not previously seen on this site (or elsewhere, for that matter), as well as a sneak preview -- a full-color full-page poster -- of a new project I'm working on.

This download, over 40 pages of material, is available for $12.99 from a secure, off-site store. Find out more and get a copy here.

PayPal users, buy it now:

Labels: cartoons

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Seat belts are supposed to be for safety.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

Today, I ate my own heart.

This was possible, since it was in my mouth while I did some more solo flying.

After a few times around the pattern with my instructor, he hopped out and sent me up on my own. I, for some reason, was feeling uneasy, and not sure about doing many takeoffs and landings, but he said I should do at least three, possibly four, five, or six.

"Just see what you feel like doing," he said. I must have had a certain expression on my face. "Remember, this is supposed to be fun."

Too bad his seat belt accidentally got caught outside the door when he shut it, unbeknown to both of us.

Now, I know I should have stopped after the first landing, taxied to the building, and checked out the noise.

I did not.

It didn't sound like much at first.

Instead, I tested the flaps, the rudder, the ailerons...everything seemed to be working. Then I remembered that it would feel different without the other person riding along, so I wondered if the lightness had anything to do with it. I thought maybe the step stool in the back was moving around, or the box with the oil container and the hood. I had no idea, but I was a "little" concerned. And distracted, but trying to stick with what I knew to do.

There was a band of gray clouds that gradually rolled in above the area, helpfully providing mild turbulence shortly after takeoff and as I turned base, increasing the racket along with the bouncing as the terrain grew closer.

It was awful. A banging noise that shouldn't be, up in the air alone, having no idea.

Fly the plane, I thought, my stomach churning. Just fly the friggin' plane. I again tested the flaps, ailerons, rudder...I checked the instruments, tried to discern if anything else felt off or seemed unusual. Nothing seemed amiss. Except the periodic banging, which was followed with my heart rate tripling the airspeed.

I really only wanted to do three landings, so I forced myself to do four. My gosh, it was awful.

I'm such a chicken, I thought, pulling on the carb heat at midfield while requesting a full stop from tower.Is this some kind of a test? I wondered. I'm paranoid, and think everything is a test to throw me off. I figured I'd failed if it was, as I taxied to the building, since I supposed I should have come in after the first bit of slight noise as I gained altitude after the first takeoff.

As I parked the airplane, shut it all down, installed the control lock, and tried to stop my shaking hands, I heard a tap at the passenger door. It was my instructor. I unlocked and opened it. I'm sure I looked pale.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked, a peculiar grin on his face.

"Uhhhh..."

"Did you hear a banging noise at all during the flight?"

How did he know?! He always knows! I knew it was a test! I thought. I should have come back right away and he's going to tell me so.

"Yes, I did."

He then explained that it was the seat belt, and that he saw it as I taxied up to park. "It's always a good idea to come back if you hear or smell or notice something out of the usual."

I just sat there, sort of trying not to melt into a puddle of post-adrenaline queasiness. The only time I've come close to being that freaked about something was when I was riding bareback on a runaway horse with only one functioning rein. Nothing to do but hang on in that situation.

My instructor went on. "...but it was good that you didn't panic and just flew the plane."

My panic is an inward, private thing. A silent scream, I thought. You have no idea.

He then related that a similar thing happened to him when he was learning to fly, and that it was most unsettling. "Just think -- you got that experience out of the way and now see how much better it will be when you go up solo tomorrow and nothing like that is happening."

I could have thrown up.

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Labels: cartoons, lessons, solo

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The in-flight movie in my head.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

I'm sure you'll find this disturbing, since I seem to inspire that reaction in far too many people. Anyway, here you go, a little "movie" for you.

Labels: cartoons

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Cartoon: Discouragement.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

Some days are just a bummer.

The last time I found myself edging toward avoiding people I know was back in college, when they would ask what I was studying. As soon as they found out I was getting an art degree, the inevitable question became something like "art degree? what are you going to do with that?"

(As it turns out, not much. But that isn't -- and wasn't -- the point.)

So far, the most common question I'm getting now, is: when are you going to be done? You'd think there'd be a lot of other questions or things to talk about but, apparently, no. It has almost always been, without fail, a question of if I'm done yet/when will I be done?

This is surrounded by suggestions for me to get back home and into my "regular" life and such, and I do understand the question. It isn't really meant to be unkind. It's more about, as one friend told me, people "missing" me and wondering when I'll be back.

But, you know, in some moments, it's really discouraging. In some moments, I catch myself reading stuff into it that I know people don't mean, such as...I'm taking too long, therefore I must be a slow learner, therefore I must be stupid.

That's really extreme, yes.

Part of me is thinking that I've been in the same place doing the same things for the same people for over ten years (which, in itself, is a little disheartening); I wonder about the fact that while I've only been gone a few months doing something (at last) away from home, something new, and something on my own, that the most common question is, essentially...when are you getting back?

So I now find myself trying to either avoid people or keep the conversation from going there because I don't really have an answer and I've rather worn out the "well, there are certain minimums that are required, and then there are certain things a person needs to learn, and so it can vary...basically, I don't know."

Or maybe, if it weren't so rude sounding: I'll be done when I'm done.

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Here's an Idea: Buy the original ink and marker drawing. It looks cool, and I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.

Materials: Pigment and permanent inks on 8.5x11 super slick 80 lb. UV protected (archival) paper. Unframed.

Cost: $20 (plus S&H)

Labels: cartoons, landings, lessons

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Cartoon: The dry run.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 3 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

Today is the day we do the actual cross country flight, but on Friday, we did a dry run. We flew a little west of Bismarck and, using the navigation log I had filled out, practiced finding the checkpoints I'd located on the sectional and using a timer to see if the numbers I'd calculated worked out or not.

Or something like that.

It sounds so much neater than the actual process.

"Most of my students have the plane going all over the place when we do this the first time," my instructor said.

Boy, do they.

Up and down, and veering this way and that, as I tried to both look down to find the checkpoints and maintain altitude and course and and and...

I always thought I had plenty of lap, but I sure had a hard time finding a place to put all the stuff (papers, map, flight computer...). Talk about trying to divert your attention in many places.

I do have to say that the instructor in this cartoon seems a little brutal. It wasn't really like that, though there was a lot of "watch your altitude" and throwing out of questions to keep me on my toes and learn to fly while many things were going on at once.

As we were back at Bismarck and in the traffic pattern getting ready to land, my instructor asked me a question which, while trying to think of the answer, I climbed 200 feet above traffic pattern altitude.

"Watch your altitude," he said. "That was a diversion."

Curses.

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Labels: cartoons, cross country, humor, lessons

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Cartoon: Humidity.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

There are all sorts of fine ways to check on the weather and gather weather-related information for flying purposes.

So many, in fact, that I will need to repeat the "weather services" section of my test preparation book multiple times over.

Plus, there are handy ways to use math to figure things out, like figuring out what level the clouds are at using temperature, dew point, a little division, and a quick multiplication.

I have to say that the heat in July and August is killing me.

Or, at least, my laundry.

It's very unusual for me for such a thing to happen, but I'd like to try and turn the situation around into something a bit more useful, and so...the cartoon.

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Buy the original ink and watercolor drawing. I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.
Materials: Watercolor, pigment pen, and colored pencil on 100 lb. soft rag paper, perforation bumps on left side. 8.5 X 11" Unframed. Signed.
Cost: $20 (plus S&H)

Labels: cartoons, lessons

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Take Cover.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

North by Northwest is one of my favorite Hitchcock films. The plot is twisted and unpredictable. Cary Grant is great in it, of course.

So is his fine, cleft chin. Gotta love that chin.

Uh.

For those of you familiar with the film, you will recognize the image I've bastardized here for your enjoyment, inserting my own experience into one of the best known images from the film.

My pain is your joy. Schadenfreude, and all that.

Or, be kind and warn your loved ones.

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Here's an Idea: Buy the original ink and marker drawing. It looks cool, and I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.

Materials: Pigment and permanent inks on 9x12 super slick 80 lb. high gloss UV protected (archival) paper. Unframed. Image is in center of paper, and does not take up the full sheet.

Cost: SOLD

Labels: cartoons, landings

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Cartoon: Any landing you walk away from...

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

I think I've beaten the Bad Landings dead horse enough on this blog.

Oh, what the heck.

One more.

This little cartoon is only slightly exaggerated.

For example, I do not really know if a Russian satellite has ever crushed a cow like that.

But the rest is pretty accurate, including the weird ET-like expression I have when we "land."

Note: The first three panels are not things I've seen while flying, but are, instead, part of a family of "things that fall heavily." That's the general theme here.

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Buy the original ink and marker drawing. I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.
Materials: Pigment and permanent inks on 9x12 super slick 100 lb. UV protected (archival) paper. Unframed. Signed.
Cost: $20 (plus S&H)

Labels: cartoons, humor, landings, lessons

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Cartoon: Left-turning tendencies.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

Airplanes have left-turning tendencies.

So do I.

And actually, there's a little error in this cartoon, because at the end I am using both hands when the right one would normally be down on the throttle.

Which is probably why I over-correct and pull to the left. The left hand is doing all the work. It's a glory hog. Also, what seems to me like lining up with the middle of the runway is, apparently, not. When we're on the correct and actual center, it seems like we're far to the side. Overcorrection commences.

When my instructor joked that we would have to cut my left hand off, a couple of thoughts went through my head, but the first, and most prevalent, was: That would at least take care of playing the violin for all these events. The second involved a related, disheartening idea in which I wondered if, sans left hand, the quality of my violin playing would really be noticeably worse.

I have such a bad attitude.

And I can't say I've cured the pull to the left yet.

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Labels: cartoons, humor, lessons

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Cartoon: Lights would be nice.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

Pride goeth before a fall.

This cartoon is actually pretty accurate, with very little exaggeration.

Yes, I did indeed forget to check the lights.

Yes, I vowed -- Vowed! -- not to do it again.

Yes, I verbally made note of my skill at turning on the battery.

Yes, I did walk out to check the lights and realized...

...well, you can read the cartoon.

And, oddly enough, I actually did this twice.

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Labels: cartoons, humor, lessons, stupidity

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Cartoon: Some concerns.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Click image to see cartoon.

"I have some concerns about your takeoffs," my instructor said.

Only about the takeoffs? There's not enough paper in the world to write down my concerns, I wanted to reply, but, in my usual manner of answering intelligently on the matter at hand, I said, "Ok."

I think, since I drew this cartoon a few weeks back, I've gotten these a bit more under control and less Cape Canaveral-ish, but apparently I liked to pull back and aim for the sky.

The sky is a good thing to aim for, when flying, but maybe not taking it in all at once.

-----------------------------------------------

Here's an Idea: Buy the original ink and marker drawing. It looks cool, and I need the money. Flying lessons are expensive.

Materials: Pigment and permanent inks on 9x12 super slick 100 lb. UV protected (archival) paper. Unframed. Signed.

Cost: SOLD

Labels: cartoons, humor, lessons