Happy Valentine's Day and Anniversary Cathy!

Today is Valentine’s Day, the day that some people love, and others hate. The day that forces even the least romantic amongst us to buckle down and try, just for one day, to show our chosen loved ones that we really do care. Today is more than that for the Fledgling Flyer, as today is also my fifth wedding anniversary, and instead of spending the day with Cathy, I am writing this from the crew lounge at DTW, getting ready to start another three day trip, my first since being signed off as having completed Initial Operating Experience (IOE). In other words, my first flights as a true First Officer pilot, not as a trainee.

This blog is supposed to chronicle my experiences as a pilot, but today the readers will have to oblige me and read along as I chronicle the past five years with Cathy. You see, although I have had a few days off between flights, earlier in the week I was busy with Cathy over in the Detroit area trying to find a place to live, and for the past two days I’m been incredibly sick, so much so that this trip was in question. So, like so many other men (and a few women I’m sure), I find myself on Valentine’s Day, and my fifth wedding anniversary, without a card to present my Love. Naturally I could try to find something in the terminal this morning, but what better way to show my true feelings that to post them. So, here goes.

Cathy is literally everything to me. She came into my life when I was not looking, yet it was so obvious that she was the “right one” the minute I met her. Funny, bold, brash, confident, and very, very pretty. We met at a party at her brother’s house in Red Deer Alberta, and since that first meeting on April 30, 2001, we’ve never been far apart. When we met, I was working in Red Deer, and Cathy worked and lived in Moncton New Brunswick. Shortly after meeting we were both offered employment in Calgary, so we both shucked our existing lives and moved to Calgary together. That pretty much describes our lives since then; make a plan, discuss it together, and then jump in with both feet.

After we moved to Calgary together and established successful careers, I started making noise about us getting married. At first Cathy was not so sure, but eventually she wore down and agreed. We were sitting on the top of Sunshine Mountain in Banff Alberta when we made the decision to marry there in the future. Because of the logistics of getting non-skiing guest and supplies to the top of a mountain, we eventually settled for a beautiful ceremony in our living room, with my Mom, Jamie and Brandon, Cathy’s Mom, sister Bonney and brother Randy all present. It was a special day, five wonderful years ago today, and neither of us would change a thing about that day, except maybe that it would have been nice if one of the dogs had not crapped on the kitchen floor where the Reverend Chase would not have stepped in it. Oh well, memories….

Speaking of dogs, Cathy is never far separated from our canine companion. When Cathy and I met, she owned Goldie, a Pomeranian with a bit of a “you are merely human, so bow to me” attitude. Goldie and I became friends, and we were horribly shocked when she died at a very young 7 years of age. Next came Ginger, another Pom with a bit of rough and tumble Tom Boy attitude. As if you doubted lighting could strike twice, cancer took little Ginger from us when she was only five. Today we’re blessed with Nikki, who is uniquely highbred between Goldie and Ginger. Nikki has many of the same markings and characteristics as Ginger, and in fact was born on the very day that Ginger passed. Reincarnation? Can’t say. Blessing to us? Absolutely. This entire doggy paragraph is to simply say that to know Cathy, and to love Cathy, is to accept the fact that regardless of our relationship and love, I will always be second in line for affection behind our furry daughter. Cathy’s love and empathy of animals is one of her endearing core values which will never change.

Did I mention that Cathy is everything to me? In the five years we’ve been married and eight since we’ve met, she truly has become my best friend, advisor, mentor, support, and when needed, the one who snaps me back to reality when even I dream too much (Dear, do we REALLY need a leather interior and glass instruments in a 54-year old Bonanza?). Cathy openly accepted my desire to return to the US and help with AutoMARK. She endured the hassles of becoming a US Permanent Resident, moved away from her native Canada, and followed me to a new start. What truer measure of love and devotion can there be? Again, when I decided to take a shot at becoming an airline pilot, she accepted my dream and helped get me here. When this dream is complete, and the next chapter in our lives presents itself, Cathy will be there to help plan and make it happen.

So, with all of this said, there is simply no Hallmark card I could find that will say what needs to be said. Cathy, I would not be who I am today without your love and support, so thank you. Life would not be nearly as much fun without you and Nikki to make me laugh, sometimes to the point of tears. Our relationship would not be what it is today if we did not occasionally step on one another’s toes and ruffle a few feathers, but that is what a growing relationship is all about. Thank you for all of the thing both big and small you have done for me, and for everyone else who's life you have touched.

Babe, we’ve come a long way and had a lot of fun in five years, and I can’t wait to see what the next five bring us. We are blessed with health and are wealthy in friendship, and I look forward to growing to old age with you by my side (which, the way I feel today, is not all that far off!). To all of my readers, thanks for your friendship and for your allowing me the opportunity to say “Happy Valentines Day” and “Happy Anniversary” to Cathy. My next post will discuss my line adventures, but for today, nothing is more important than publicly letting Cathy know how much I love her.

In With Both Feet

I am writing this from DTW, where I am preparing for my second "pairing" of my Initial Operating Experience. My first pairing was last week, and I think that I have just now caught back up with the world, just in time for another trip. So, before I sink deeper into my new career, I thought I should share some of the experiences of those first few days.

First of all, let me explain a pairing. I am being "paired" with a Line Check Airman Captain, and they pair us up with a cabin crew of two flight attendants, and the four of us are then assigned a 3-day or 4-day flight assignment. That's a pairing. My pairing from last week looked like this:
Jan 28 - DTW-IAH (Detroit to Houston), IAH-MSP (Houston to Minneapolis), MSP-DSM (Minneapolis to Des Moines)
Jan 29 - DSM-DTW, DTW-LAN, LAN-DTW, DTW-PWM (Portland Maine)
Jan 30 - PWM-DTW, DTW-PVD (Providence RI), PVD-DTW, DTW-ROC (Rochester NY)
Jan 31 - ROC-DTW, DTW-DFW (Dallas), DFW-DTW
As you may imagine, that's a full four day's work, and quite a load for a first timer, but it was that very first flight, NWA Flight 3578 from Detroit to Houston Texas that was most memorable. Not only because it was my first flight as a Mesaba First Officer, but because of a couple of equipment failures that made it both frustrating and yet exciting.

Because my first flight was early in the morning, I drove from Chicago over to Detroit the day before and slept in a hotel. I rose early Wednesday morning and got the the airport about 45 minutes before my required check in time, which normally is 1 hour before the flight. A few minutes beyond the agreed upon time my Captain walked up and introduced himself. Don has been with the company about 20 years and had one word of advice for me..."relax". We talked for a few minutes and then headed down to gate B-11, where our aircraft awaited us. With paperwork in hand, we walked down the jetway and for the very first time I walked aboard a CRJ-900 aircraft, the very one I was about to fly. It still seems strange. Anyway, I stow my suitcase (back in row 13, since only the Captain's suitcase goes in the front closet so as to leave enough space for our first class passengers), and head up to the flight deck. Other than the fact that it seems a little worn and somewhat dirty, the flight deck looks very familiar, identical to the simulator. Don tells me that he wants me to go ahead and get started with power initialization and FMS programming, and that he will take care of the pre-flight inspection. Normally the pre-flight is the First Officer's duty, but until he signs me off to perform it, he will take care of it. So, I set about bringing power on and performing the initialization of the FMS system. Before I can even think about it, Don is back on the Flight Deck and passengers are boarding. No time to think about anything, no time to ask too many questions, just get in, strap down, and get to work. In what seemed like a heart-beat, the door was closed and we were ready to push back from the gate. Our "out" time is based on when the brakes are released for pushback, and we release exactly on time, 0932. So far we're off to a good start.

With engines running I call Detroit Ramp Control and tell them we're ready to taxi, and we're cleared to taxi to spot 4N and call Ground Control. Its snowing like hell so at the appropriate time I tell Ground that we're ready to taxi to the deice pad, and they in turn provide us with taxi instructions to taxi to the runway 22L deice pad. As we get close to the pad, we see that there are quite a few aircraft in front of us, so the Captain gets on the PA and tells the passengers that we will be delayed. Just about then, his windshield wiper stops working, frozen right in the middle of his windshield. This would be bad in a car since eventually the snow would build up and you would not be able to see. Its even worse on the CRJ because although the windows and windshield are heated to melt the snow and prevent them from fogging, having a windshield wiper stuck in any position other than the parked position limits you to 250 knots airspeed, since going faster risks having the wiper break off and getting sucked into an engine. Bad Ju-Ju. We simply don't have enough fuel to fly to Houston at 250 knots, so we're informed by Operations that we need to taxi back to the gate and change aircraft.

Taxi back, off load passengers, perform the engine shutdown and termination checklist. Grab our chart cases and suitcases and run to the other end of Detroit's B Terminal, down the jetway and start making preparations to get going yet again. Another power initialization, pre-flight inspection, etc., load passengers, and once again head out, after waiting on catering to load the aircraft with drinks and ice. We complete deicing, taxi out to runway 22L and takeoff. Perhaps it was the mad rush to get the new aircraft ready, but the entire event is pretty much one big blur in my memory. What is not a blur is what happened about 45 minutes from Houston...that event is still quite fresh in my mind.

The AC electrical system on the CRJ-900 is very simple. Each engine has an attached generator what produces AC power and supplies an on-side AC bus. For instance, #1 (left side) engine's generator supplies #1 AC bus, and #2 (right side) engine's generator supplies power to #2 AC bus. There is another bus called the Essential Bus that supplies, yes, you guessed it, essential electrical loads. The Essential Bus is normally powered from #1 AC bus, but should a failure occur, will automatically transfer over such that it will remain powered from #2 AC bus. This ensures that the essential electrical loads are always energized. That is the design anyway.

As we were cruising at 36 thousand feet, with 67 passengers still pissed off about being over three hours late due to the great windshield wiper caper, there was an audible "pop" from the Captain's side electrical panel and a flicker of the ECIAS screens, and then multiple caution messages were announced by Bitch'en Bob. In situations like this the best course of action is to take no action at all immediately, just sit back and take note of what we see. Checking the EICAS electrical system page, it was evident that we had experienced a failure of #1 generator, and that the Essential Bus had not transferred over. In other words, we were operating with only one of three AC buses energized. About the time we started to understand what we were experiencing, the Flight Attendants rang the flight deck and notified us that the emergency lights in the passenger cabin were on, and that it was getting pretty warm back there. Both of these were understandable since we lost half the air conditioning and that the emergency lights are designed to switch on when either the AC or DC essential buses are de-energized.

I get out the Pilots Operations Manual (POM) and start running down the system failure checklists, which directs us to attempt a manual transfer of the Essential Bus, which does not work. Once we've completed the checklists, we get on the radio and inform dispatch and maintenance of our problems. Dispatch starts looking for nearby airports we can divert to, but most of them lie under a pretty thick cloud deck, which is not good since our Air Data Computer probes and windshields no longer have electrical heat and descending through clouds would ice everything up. After reviewing all options Captain Don and I decide that our safest course of action is to continue to Houston which is reporting clear skies. Maintenance and Dispatch agree and we continue on, informing the passengers that we've had an electrical issue but that we would be landing in Houston as planned. The rest of the flight was uneventful, if not a little tense, constantly wondering what had caused the failure and if we would experience yet another surprise. We did not.

More than a week has now passed since that first eventful flight. I have completed my second paring, and have now been signed off as having completed IOE. In other words, I am now officially out of training and have officially become a line pilot. I would like to share a few experiences from that second pairing, which was likely as much fun as I will have flying professionally. I'll pull the plug on this posting and hopefully get the next instalment out very soon.

Until then, stay happy, and fly safe!

The Check Ride

Well, its a wrap. The checkride and the LOFT are complete, I'm back at home, and I have a pretty interesting flight schedule for February. I thought some of you might like the play-by-play for my final checkride.

First of all, if you want to get some idea of what any checkride is like, watch this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQjDFM1x4iw
Sorry the link won't work. Just cut and paste into your browser...it's worth the effort!

So, with that done, here's how my ride went. Up at 0350, shower, dress, and one last review of the profiles. Check my chart case one last time to ensure I have all of my chart and pub revisions installed, grab a bite to eat, and out the door at 0440, ariving at the training center at 0440.

At about 0455 my Captain arrives, and we introduce ourselves to one another. John has been with the company for several years, and is not senior enough to yet hold a line, so he's been spending a lot of time on reserve. At least he is at home with his two young sons a good bit of time. At just after 0500 our check airman arrives, yet another John. John describes the morning plan, tells me I'll be picking up the aircraft at gate T2 in Atlanta (gulp! I've never flown to/from Atlanta before) for a scheduled flight to Minneapolis. Naturally he explains, we probably won't get there!

John takes my current license, checks my passport and medical certificate, reviews my training records, and then hands me a copy of my pre-departure paperwork which includes the flight plan and TLR (takeoff and landing report). A quick review shows that we have no aircraft equipment deferred (broken), the weather looks bad (cold and very low visibility fog), and we've got a full load of passengers and partial load of fuel. Final passenger weight and balance data will be sent via ACARS during the taxi out. John the check airman leaves, and John the Captain and I have a few minutes to discuss the plan. John tells me just to relax, fly like I've learned, and to work as a team.

The check airman then tells us to saddle up and get to work. I'm the first in the sim, so I run the power initialization check which brings power on the aircraft and starts the IRS system warming up. (the "inertial navigation" IRS, not the "bend over and spread 'em April 15" IRS). Things continue smoothly through the checklist and it is not long before I've copied the current weather, our ATC clearance, and have the flight plan loaded into the FMS system. We are now ready for pushback and engine start, which goes well and no anomalies are injected.

We taxi out with a reported RVR (visibility) of about 600 feet, so it is pretty foggy. I try to stay heads-up to help so that both the Captain and I are watching out for other aircraft, and follow along on my low-vis taxi chart. Almost to the runway I receive my load data, so I warn Captain John that I'll be heads down while finishing the FMS programming. About the time I have this completed, we are at the runway and ready, and about then we receive the call that ATC has changed their mind and now wants us to depart a different runway. Not a big deal, except that I have to re-program the FMS with the new departure runway, and a quick check of the TLR to see if our takeoff flap setting is different (it is) or our engine-out obstacle clearance procedures change (they do not). Final before takeoff checks, runway item checks, and we're now on the runway ready for departure.

Power up, two good engines, thrust set and we pass V1 without any problems, and at Vr I rotate and lift off. When the Captain sees the VSI indicating we're climbing he calls "Positive rate". In response I call "Gear up, speed mode and heading", which is directing John to raise the landing gear and to place my flight director in the speed and heading mode. At 600 feet altitude John turns the autopilot on in response to my commands. At 1000 feet altitude I accelerate the aircraft to 200 knots, and call for flaps up. Once the flaps are tucked away I change our climb speed to 250 knots. During all of this, John is communicating with ATC, changing frequencies, and is calling up new fixes on the FMS in response to ATC clearance changes. As we pass though 5000 feet at 250 knots, we start to feel like we've caught up and we receive a "Left Main Ejector Fail" caution light, meaning that we've got potential problems with our fuel system. Since I'm flying, I take over radio #1 to talk with ATC while John calls our Maintenance folks to discuss the issue. Naturally Maintenance wants us to return the aircraft to Atlanta.

Because the visibility is very low (still 600 RVR), we are cleared for the Cat II ILS approach. You will remember from a few posts ago that a Cat II approach is one that allows us to come VERY close to the ground before having visual contact with the ground. During a Cat II approach, the First Officer always flies, the Captain always monitors, and the autopilot is always engaged. When we get down to the Decision Altitude (something like a little over 100 feet above the runway, going about 150 knots by the way), the Captain will either say "My aircraft, landing" where he will take over and land if he sees the runway, or "No contact. Go around" if he does not. Naturally on our first approach he does not see the runway, so I execute the missed approach. So, here you have a 75,000 pound aircraft at 100 feet, descending at 800 feet per minute at 150 knots. The First Officer must quickly power up, pitch up, and convince the aircraft to reverse its descent. It is not uncommon for the aircraft wheels to actually touch the pavement on a Cat II go around, but ours do not this time. We notify ATC about our missed approach and they vector us for another try.

Approach #2 looks until we are about two miles from the runway, when the Captain's flight director fails. Two flight directors are needed for a Cat II approach, so once again we break off and fly the missed procedure, telling ATC about our equipment failure, which miraculously is repaired. Around we go for try #3, and exactly at the decision altitude, the Captain sees the runway, takes control and safely lands us. Taxi clear of the runway, after takeoff checks completed, and back for another takeoff.

Again we perform a normal takeoff, except that this time the check airman directs me to ignore the throttles, which he proceeds to idle, which results in a departure stall from which I quickly recover. Climb out for vectors for the GPS approach, and suddenly we get an engine fire. First of all, an "engine fire" in a jet engine is a misnomer. Hell, if the engine is running, it is already on fire. An engine fire simply means that something has happened and the fire has gotten somewhere it does not belong. For any engine fire you take your time and the pilot not flying works slowly though the checklists while the pilot flying does just that...flies the aircraft. We get the engine shutdown and the fire out, so it is back to the airport for an uneventful single engine approach and landing, hand flown since the autopilot also failed. Fire trucks meet us on the runway and all is good.

Next takeoff goes well, except that an engine flames out at V1 on the takeoff roll, and the auto relight does not work. We perform an airborne start and get it running, so it is back to the airport since no one wants to fly with an engine that flamed out for an unknown reason. Set up for the localizer approach and once again, the check airman directs me to ignore the throttles, which he once again places in idle, resulting in an approach stall. Once again, recover, execute the missed approach, and notify ATC. Fly the vectors for another attempt, shoot the approach, and successfully land. Taxi to the gate, and the ride is over!

About two and a half hours, plus brief and debrief time, and it is a full morning. I walk away the very proud owner of a new CL-65 (CRJ) type rating with a Second in Command limitation, knowing that it will only be a few days before I get to fly the real McCoy. That is currently scheduled for this Wednesday, and will be the subject of my next post.

Thanks for riding along on this journey with me, and a special thanks to Cathy, Gene, Ty, Jeff and Rick, all who have been sending me lots of encouragement along the way. I wish you all could be there on my first flight.

Short Final

Two simulator sessions and the final checkride to go, oral exam passed, less than a week before I start my IOE, my ground-based training is down to the wire. Things are really coming together and I am spending less time worrying about furlough and more time excited about the fact that I'm soon to be doing what I signed up for...flying the CRJ-900 in revenue flight.

First, my 2 cents on US Air 1547 and their miraculous ditching on the Hudson River this week. I don't wish to take anything at all away from Captain "Sully" Sullenberger, but I wish that the news media would acknowledge that there were a total of five crewmembers on that flight, and each of them contributed to the successful outcome. Secondly, the Captain's skill not withstanding, God was truly the copilot on that flight. There are simply too many variables that could have led to a horrible crash not to give credit to God's will. I believe that each person on board that aircraft that day understands this; I only wish others would.

Here's the scoop on my training progress. To date, my sim partner and I have completed seven simulator sessions for a total of 28 hours of high intensity training. Although we've done a pretty good job so far, there have been some screw ups, and our instructors have on occasion had to give us some "Special High Intensity Training". Believe me, I am not complaining, because in every instance the S.H.I.T. was well deserved, and we are better pilots because of the S.H.I.T. we received from our instructors. Scott and I have developed a good rapport, and on occasion will even give one another some S.H.I.T. In this rapid-paced, high pressure training environment, you simply have to shake off the mistakes (and the S.H.I.T. they precipitate), learn from them, and move on. If you concentrate too much on all of the S.H.I.T and nothing else, you'll end up with S.H.I.T. for brains.

A typical simulator session goes like this: start on the ground at MSP, DFW, RST or CWA. Run power initialization and acceptance checklist. Run engine start checklist and spool 'em up. If both engines are started and neither has a hot start, hung start, or other starting anomaly, consider yourself lucky. Taxi out for departure and takeoff. Again, if you get airborne with both engines still running, it is a miracle because we typically have one burst into flames, flameout, or ingest a bird on the takeoff roll. Once airborne, don't relax, since in the next two hours you can expect countless system failures and emergencies. Set up for the single engine approach and learn that you'll have to hand fly in since the autopilot has crapped out. If you are good (and lucky) enough to break out of the weather and have the runway in sight, plan on another aircraft screwing up and creating a runway incursion, causing you to have to go around on the single engine. When all of the systems are working well, count on Mother Nature giving you some S.H.I.T. I was on approach to landing and flew into a severe windshear microburst. I flew the windshear recovery profile, and although I managed to get the aircraft safely away from the ground, the instructor told me my radar altitude was down to 20 feet at one point. Talk about hand of God! After two solid hours of flying doom and gloom, land, pause, take a quick break, swap seats and hit it again for two hours. When the four hour session is complete, we retire to a debrief room where we spend an hour or so discussing what we learned, or should have learned, what we did right, and just as importantly, what we did not do right. When we do something really stupid, a little S.H.I.T. is in order. Go to the hotel, take a much needed nap, eat a bite, then plan the next day's flight. Go to bed at 9:00, get up at 4:00 the next morning, study for an hour, then head back to school and back into the box.

My oral exam was uneventful and went very well. I only had one instance of brain flatulence, and Todd the instructor actually thanked me for being well-prepared, saying that it makes his job much more enjoyable when students put in the required effort. Like with all other instructors we've encountered, Scott and I were very impressed with how professional and sincere Todd was. I have really enjoyed learning from all of our instructors.

We have our Category II approach simulator qualifications this afternoon (sessions 8 and nine were rescheduled for 5 PM vice 5 AM), and then our final "practice" session tomorrow evening. Although I have Tuesday off, I can't concentrate on preparing for Wednesday's checkride because I have to prepare to give a legal deposition to attorneys for the California Secretary of State on Wednesday afternoon, some leftover baggage from my previous career. So, after almost two months of training, instead of being able to celebrate when I've finished my final evaluation, I get to come back to the hotel and spend many hours being deposed. Ah, life's small pleasures.

Here are some fun facts to close with. I left home for this adventure 50 days ago. In those 50 days, I've had 156 hours of classroom instruction, 20 hours of FTD training and 28 hours of simulator training. I've also been away from Cathy 44 of the 50 days, and missed Christmas and New Year's Day with her, and have been paid about $2055 for attending training. The training has been fantastic, but the separation from Cathy has been difficult. Is it worth it? In my opinion, absolutely, but Cathy gets a vote too, and although she continues to voice her support for me, I know that my busy training schedule makes our separation easier on me than on her. When you are in a relationship, both people have skin in the game of chasing dreams. Each day I think about how important her support is, and how fortunate I am to have her in my life. My only method of paying it back is to apply myself as best I can during our separation and try to be at home as much as possible. I now have a flight schedule for February, and it looks like we'll be apart on our anniversary, a first of us. I am not complaining, because this is what I signed up for, and it makes me realize that each and every day, men and women in this career field put up with stress, low pay, and separation from loved ones. You have to work very hard for a very long time to realize the true benefits of this profession, the ability to bid a schedule that allows a lot of time to spend with family. I know that I'm still at the bottom of the food chain, and have a long way to go. All of that being said, I'm still very excited for having the opportunity to experience all of this. The price of dreams.

Blessings and tailwinds, and if life forces you to ditch, may you do it Sully-style!

Out of the FTD and into the Box!

A lot has transpired since my last posting, but the big news for those following from the last post is that no furloughs have occurred and I'm still employed and in training. Truly this IS the season of miracles! While the company tries to take stock of our pilot manning situation, my partner Scott and I have started and completed FTD training, and as of today are in the "box".

Last week we spent five days on the Flight Training Device, or FTD, which is basically several large LCD touchscreens mounted so as to resemble the layout of the CRJ flight deck arrangement. There was no control yoke so there was no real flying to do, but each switch throughout the flight deck would respond to touch and would reposition as appropriate. Some readers may have experienced a "paper tiger", or a cardboard mock up of the flight deck on which countless flight crews have trained. The FTD is the 21st century version of that, so I guess you could call it an electronic tiger. Although you could not fly the FTD, it is a fantastic way to learn switch functions and locations, and the corresponding aircraft responses. In the FTD we learned how to bring power onto a cold, dark aircraft, start and secure engines, perform normal takeoff and landings, and most importantly, we learned the "flows" and "callouts" required for each evolution of flight.

A flow is a series of switch changes needed to preform some evolution, and is followed by a checklist verification. For instance, after the engines are started, the Captain and the First Officer will perform their respective after start flows, and then the Captain will call "after start check". The First Officer will then read down the after engine start checklist, and as each item is called, the Captain and/or First Officer will visually verify the item was completed and then the appropriate person will announce "checked", "completed", "set", or whatever is appropriate for that item. Once the checklist is completed, the First Officer announces "after start check completed". This may sound like it is scripted, and that is exactly what it is. Each item must not only be correctly accomplished, but the challenge and response on the checklist must be stated/responded to in exactly the correct wording. Word for word, item by item. No ad lib, no "close enough". Exactly as per the Pilot Operating Manual. Although my partner has never flown jet aircraft before, he attended Embry Riddle University and their CRJ First Officer program, so most of this is second nature to him. Unfortunately, silly old me is still struggling to "un-learn" some Falconisms that keep haunting me. In the Falcon, the parking brake is "set". In the CRJ, the parking brake is "on". This may sound trivial, but it is not. Until I can do business the company CRJ way, I will not pass my checkride.

Today we had our first session in the actual simulator, or the "box". As shown on the photo above, the simulator is about three stories high, is mounted on several hydraulic actuator legs, and can move about all axis. It is a Level D simulator, meaning that it has fantastic graphics and can simulate both day and night visuals. You enter the simulator by crossing a catwalk on the second story, passing through the back of the control cab where the instructor sits and plays his various instruments of torture, to the flight deck which is an actual full-size CRJ-900 flight deck including every switch, light, screen, doo-dad, and hoo-be-do that the real McCoy has. You sit down, strap in, and try hard to remember that you are not in the real aircraft. During my Falcon type rating, I flew a Level C simulator, and although that too is impressive, the Level D is truly amazing. Every sound, every bump, flap buffet, engine noise, ATC radio traffic, flight attendant chimes, you name it, it is there. The only thing missing perhaps are cranky passengers, but I'm sure our instructor can fill in for them. Speaking of instructors, once again I have been completely amazed at the quality of instructors we continue to be introduced to. This company has some great people on staff, which makes the training that much easier.

In addition to the basics of flight training, we've been issued our Jep plates and airport directory, and we've already been issued our first Jep revision. I had to break down last week and buy a new chart case, since my old one was brown (wrong color) and was so old I think it was passed down from Orville Wright. Uniforms came in today so I had to try them all on to confirm fit (I have GOT to start eating a little better, or I'll have to let out my pants in the waist!). Although this was just a trial fit and I don't have the company brass (wings and hat design), it was still the first time I've worn a uniform since I last took off my Navy uniform in May 2000. Although I'm not yet worthy of wearing a "real" pilot uniform with wings, I still had to Skype Cathy so she could laugh at my funny hat. The February bid package is out and my name appears on it for the first time, meaning that the schedulers are planning on building me a "green line". In other words, I'm too junior to be able to hold a real bid line, but, because I'm considered green until I have 100 hours in the CRJ, the schedulers will pack in a lot of flight time for me early, as if I were more senior. Although this is great in that I'll get plenty of flight experience early on, as soon as I'm not "green" and I have my 100 hours, I'll drop off the bid and will likely be sitting nothing but reserve for a while. As I've been told, enjoy the green line flying while you can.

That's it for now. Our sim schedule has us briefing at 0500 and in the box at 0600 each day, so its lights out for me at 9:00 pm. That's OK...9:00 is a good bed time for an old fart anyway.

Tailwinds and Blessings!