The time has finally come that I can speak of the first flight of the Mooney. Through many hoops and piles of paperwork, it had all started to congeal to that magic point that says I may be conventional. After a Saturday afternoon of rag chewin’ and double dog daring, Butch Foster agreed to take me for a flight in the beast which will be known as the Dairy Queen on Sunday.

Sunday, I spent most of the morning getting CFYDQ ready for the flight. In the back of my mind I thought that Butch wouldn’t show. I started it up and taxied it around for a bit. At 11 AM he pulled in and wandered over to my hangar and asked me if I’m ready. Not wanting to show my giddiness I accepted without screaming like a schoolgirl. We started with a very thorough preflight briefing, and it was finally time for start-up. We went for the run up and Butch heard something when the mags were switched so he leaned it out and let it run rough for a bit and then checks again. He explained how the plugs were fouled. I had no idea.

All checks completed; we were soon rolling on 28. Off we go, or more accurately, off it goes with me way behind the aircraft. I couldn’t hold heading or attitude and I still had to figure out how to get the gear up. After two tries and a sore wrist we are cruising. We were heading for the practice area and High River for touch and goes. On the way there I still struggled with heading and altitude. Meanwhile, Butch is giving me all kinds of pointers about how and why, but even though his lips were moving, and his voice filled the headset, I heard nothing. I was hanging on, thinking things were happening way to fast. After a bit, I thought I felt the controls and started to fly the plane.

Butch told me to do a 360 so I do what I can. After what I am sure he felt was an eternity, he let me roll out and said, “I have control”. He took the plane and stood it on its wing and pulled back. I was looking at my left wingtip and the river bottom below at the same time. He showed me a steep turn with as many G’s as I have ever felt before. My eyebrows were touching my cheekbones, and my cheekbones were on my shoulders with the blood draining out of my head. Then he showed me another 360 the other way, rolled out nine seconds later and said, “You have control.”

Well, I barely had control of my bladder at this time. I did some of the same and rolled out level, lightheaded, and somehow in the direction of the practice area. At this point I was sweating like a $5 hooker on a cowboy pay day. Then he started talking about manifold pressure, mixture control, and prop governor… my head was spinning. EGT, ELT, OSB, AGL, ADF… I was thinking “OMG, slow down you SOB.” I soon realized while listening to him that he has forgotten more about flying than I will ever know. So, to keep my wits, I agree with everything he says whether I understood it or not.

We did stalls, both clean and dirty, extended the gear a few times, slow flight, HASEL checks, clearing turns, and much more. Now Butch has never been in this plane before and yet, listening to him and seeing him at the controls let me know that I was in the presence of greatness. Here I am getting instruction with a pilot who has flown so many planes such as big propped radials, B-26’s, Mustangs, water bombers, twins, four engine giants, fighter jets, experimentals, and more things with wings than I can comprehend. I really just need to soak up what I can. It showed decades of experience with every hand gesture. We were now in the circuit, and I was still way behind the curve, so much so that when I make the radio calls at High River I start with “Indus Traffic”. So now my mind was rapidly turning to jelly, and the simplest question made me blurt out “I have no idea” on more than one occasion.

He had that look on his face that said, “You have no idea how to fly do you?” To Butch’s credit he called for a full stop landing and we pulled off to the side to settle for a bit before going again and again. I was starting to wear this airplane now and starting to find a rhythm that allowed more to be done with less effort. Something as simple as squeezing off power with a prop setting, rotating my wrist to retract the gear and scanning the panel in a way that allowed me to see more than dials and switches. I landed the plane three times and was feeling a bit better about the day and plane.

This whole transition from ultralights upwards has been a combination of feeling anxious and being patient. My former self would have gotten in to go and figure it out on my own. That may not work for me anymore. I have been blessed with good fortune and some good decisions. At this point all I can say is that as much as I complain about the time spent with other instructors. It really has been worth it. I see that the time in the air is never wasted as long as you appreciate being there. I have more time booked and will be given the chance to do better with each flight.