The legendary check ride pilot had one surprise left

“Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

John Gillespie Magee Jr., World War II Royal Canadian Air Force fighter pilot and war poet.

– – – – – – –

“Mistakes to avoid on your pilot’s license check ride,” the magazine headline declared. Made me chuckle. I could liven up that list a little.

I still read a lot about flying, although I haven’t piloted an aircraft in more than 20 years. Some things I used to do that I don’t do any more for whatever reason; I have no strong desire to do again. Been there, done that. But fly an airplane? I’d do that again in a heartbeat.

Doing so would entail, at the least, some FAA required catch-up instruction and a check ride. Another FAA certification and sign-off on the observation of one’s ability to fly an airplane in all situations. Should that ever occur, I doubt this new check ride would be as, let’s call it, memorable as my first.

Flying was a childhood obsession with me. Drawing pictures of airplanes in school. Model airplanes suspended from my bedroom ceiling with Mom’s sewing thread. Watching movies like “30 Seconds Over Tokyo” and “12 O’Clock High.”

Following that dream, I budgeted for flying lessons once out of college and gainfully employed. A few hours a week spent at the old Mount Pleasant Airport with instructor Doyle Amerson, and I was one my way. I was a soloed student pilot.

Friend and Marine pilot veteran, Grady Firmin, readied me for the final phase. The check ride. Flying with Grady offered insightful moments differing from those of a civilian instructor. Always throwing in little extras. Like the day he asked, “Wanna learn how to slip an airplane?’

“Sure,” I said. “What’s a slip?”

“They don’t teach it anymore, and you won’t need to know it for the check ride. But I’ll show you how. Might come in handy,” Grady assured me.

Non-pilot note #1. Coordination of aircraft controls produces desired and expected results. Cross-controlling (uncoordinated) in a manner for which they were not necessarily designed will yield different, but sometimes useful, results.

Where coordinated application of rudder and aileron produces gentle turns, uncoordinated application produces rapid loss of altitude. Think, “Falling from dancing skies on silver wings.” But you can call it “slipping.”

Fast forward to check ride day. Winging my way to Gregg County Airport, I had almost forgotten hanger talk, tagging FAA check ride pilot Johnny Walker as the “get him and you’re doomed” guy. “He’s tough,” one soul said. “Most students fail the first ride with him,” said another. “Made me cry,” admitted one poor guy.

Signed in and paperwork approved, I nervously awaited my turn. Then I hear, “Aldridge?”

“That’s me.”

“Good morning, Mr. Aldridge, my name is Johnny Walker. Are you ready to fly?”

“Yes sir,” I affirmed boldly, hoping to hide that sudden sinking sensation sweeping over me.

We began the pre-flight walk-around inspection. Engine check, control surface check, fuel sample check, and more. I was almost done when I ran into the wing. Yep, walked into the trailing edge of the high-wing Cessna with my forehead. Forgot to duck.

Fumbling for a paper towel behind the seat to wipe the blood away, I thought, “Great job, clutz, you aren’t even off the ground, and you’ve already failed.”

We did get off, however. And into the check ride pilot’s tests. “Fly a heading of one eight zero for thirty seconds and make a climbing turn to 3,500 at two seven zero. Show me a power-off stall. A power-on stall. Slow flight maneuvers. Recovery from unusual attitudes.” (That’s the gut-wrencher where you close your eyes and put your hands in your lap, the instructor takes the controls and throws the plane into some crazy downward-turning, almost out-of-control thing. Then gives it back to the petrified pilot to recover.)

“OK, take us back to the airport,” Walker said. I sighed silently, test done. I was wrung out.

But just as I contacted the tower and turned into the airport traffic pattern, the legendary check ride pilot had one surprise left.

“You just lost electrical power. Show me a no-flaps landing.”

Non-pilot note #2. Wings flaps increase lift allowing for slower landing speeds and sometimes shorter take-offs. Although their use is not essential, they make landing easier. And all basic pilot training is done by teaching the application of flaps for landing.

The solution was not hard, just not practiced much: extend the downwind leg to lose altitude on final approach before reaching the end of the runway. That lack of practice became obvious when Walker said, “You’re still too high. Can you slip it?”

“I can,” I said with pleasure and surprise. Then executed the technique Grady taught me. The one I wouldn’t need to know for the check ride. Reacting to the cross-controlling applied, the airplane pitched nose up like a horse fighting the reins before settling into a descent. Then started down like a fast-falling elevator.

Just before touching down, releasing the airplane from its cross-coordination contortion allowed it to settle gently on the runway. To quote pilot jargon, “right on the numbers.”

“Good job,” Walker said as we taxied to the terminal. “Congratulations, you passed!”

Once inside and with Mr. Walker’s signature on my license, I thanked him, borrowed a band-aid for my forehead, and flew back to Mount Pleasant, having reached my childhood goal of “licensed pilot.” Battle wounds and all.

I thought about that day last week as I read the article about check ride mistakes to avoid. I was disappointed. Running into the wing with your forehead was not on the list.

Maybe I should contact the author. Perhaps they should also add legendary check ride pilots to their list.

—Leon Aldridge

(Photo at top of the page: The author getting his shirt tail clipped following his first solo flight, a time-honored flying tradition, by instructor Doyle Amerson. The date was April 23, 1974, and the place was at the old Mount Pleasant Municipal Airport, which was located on property that is currently part of the Priefert Manufacturing facilities.)

– – – – – – –

Aldridge columns are published in these Texas newspapers: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune,  the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche, The Fort Stockton Pioneer, and The Monitor in Naples.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2023. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.

One thought on “The legendary check ride pilot had one surprise left

Leave a comment