5Y-BKC...that little death trap!!

so for those of you who are able too relate to the callsign of this plane, you probably have a rough idea just what a hair raising(literally) experience it was to fly it. i really don't know what to say about it except for the fact that i soloed and went for my first solo cross country in it....now, when people ask me about that trip, the look on my face pretty much says it all...a little history on this plane to provide a little insight as to the type of experience i was afforded. Callsign: 5Y-BKC, a cessna 152, carburetor engine with a total range of 414nm and a maximum speed of 109kts....ofcoarse this is all with the basic assupmtion that it is newly minted from the factory. in my case ofcoarse it was a 1970 plane which put all it's performance capabilties at probably close to 60%. now that i have got that out of the way; it was the morning of my first solo cros country, and as a norm the first thing i did when i got up was to check the skies...nothing unusual there, just the usual towering cumulous clouds that on many occasions brought absolute grief to inexperienced student pilots, really the turbulance that came along with those clouds was nothing short of hazardous...i was actually looking forward to flying today, needless to say i had gathered some 'balls' and had reached that point where i was almost cocky about my competence...but with less than 30 hours under my belt that didn't really count for much but a sense of euphoria never hurts to boost my confidence. what i was really looking forward to was the garmin GPS my brother had promised me when i came back in one piece including the airplane...(yeah i know, some wierd sense of encouragement right?) but nevertheless, it worked. i wanted that GPS bad and i was going to get it. so up i got, after a rushed breakfast and a hearty prayer( the prayer took like 30 mins from my mum who still believes flying airplanes is a suicide mission)which to be quite honest, i don't totally disagree with but some things are simply worth the risk. by the time i got to the airport the winds were starting to pick up and from the constant buffeting of the planes in the hanger, i pretty much figured i was not going anywhere. here is the deal; our chief flying instructor wasn't exactly the most brave guy on the planet, infact that is probably a light way to put it but he was actually scared shitless of planes, now add to the equation a nervous student and he was just not the most pleasant guy to be around. i know it is quite ironic, but tell you something else that is ironic....i'm afarid of heights ;-) and that is much of a personal confession as you'll ever get out of me....so from his view point there was no way he was going to let me take the plane solo on a day like this, from my view point there was no way i was going home without my GPS....conclusion? i waited till he went out for lunch, convinced my istructor to sign me off and in 30 minutes i was airborne. so you know when you have a gut feeling about something? in flying that gut feeling is often very loud and clear and probably more accurate than any navigation systems they will ever come up with...my gut feeling was telling me to buckle up, coz this was going to be a long flight....i am not at all embarassed to admit that i talk to myself in the cockpit, it's the only way to keep sane really when your absolute goal in flight is to keep the shiny side of the airplane up ;-) i found my first airport just fine, which was pretty straight forward coz all i had to do was follow a road. now here is where things started getting hairy. with my eyes constantly riveted on the oil and temperature gauges it never did occur to me that maybe i should reduce to maneuverability speed, which ofcoarse if i was paying attention to paula(my instructor) i would have probrably known this in advance...hmmm...mistake number one...when i got abeam to Mt. Longonot, i managed to get myself in the thick of things and to try and describe the type of buffeting that the plane went through? well let me try...first off i should have never eaten such a heavy breakfast, the way things were looking my stomach contents would soon be emptied. the engine was making a coughing, spitting sound that is clearly a sign of distress, then the unthinkable happened(well the unthinkable to me) the propeller hesisated and stopped, for thhose 30 seconds before it fired back up again, i made God all the promises in the world, i would even join a nunnery if that is what it came to. most of my friends never believe me when i tell them what happened but i was there, that damn propeller stopped beating the air into submission. to say i fully got over that experience would not be entirely true. i was tempted to land the plane on the side road and take a bus home...when i got back home, i went straight to my bedroom, locked the door and slept till the next morning, never spoke to anyone...yes that is the true definition of trauma. you know when people say they had a life changing experience? this was an experience, don't know about change but i know it made me ;-)

the last 3 minutes

nausea, panic and denial would probably be the first three words i would come up with when i think of the day dear Paula(my then instructor) turned and said to me; "here, you have the controls. land the plane"...it is very interesting how the mind at some point tries to protect you from the inevitable hoping that somehow the situation will change, then reality checks in, the plane drones closer, the trees become larger and you suddenly realise that maybe you are not meant to see into peoples cars on the road on final approach, the sickening reality slowly numbs your hands and in the great cushion of air that separates you from the ground is no longer a comfort....my hands reach over and instinctively pull up the yoke to try and mimic what i already think i know. Paula casually glances over at me, eyeing the death grip that i seem to have on the controls and in the corner of my eye i catch a glimpse of a faint hint of a smile on her face...the calm before the storm, and she must know it, telling from the beads of sweat that have formed on my forehead...damn!! my make up has now definitely gone to shit...i always find it somehow amusing the things that cross my mind at the most random moments....07, those are the numbers that pop up at me, decisively too close for comfort and i yank up at the control wheel too quick. in that instant it seems like i made it, could it possibly be....did i touch down so smoothly that i didn't even know...the cringing thud and rattling that then follows, surely lets me know...woe unto me if i thought i was that lucky....lets put it this way, all my wheels were still where they belong...on the aircraft, the rest are details...and those would be the last three minutes of my first landing.....