This bleeping hotel.
I just somehow magically found my way back to my Milwaukee hotel room, after roaming the halls for more than 20 minutes. I swear, the hotel we stay at here in MKE was designed by none other than David Bowie's character in Labyrinth. It's as if he tired of tormenting young adolescent girls in movies and moved on to tormenting innocent flight crews ambling back from the hotel's pub like the star of an early Tom Waits song. I must have wandered these halls in a circle at least 3 times, looking for the building that holds my humble room. My tried and true technique of hanging the "do not disturb" sign on my door to at least narrow my choices during an alcohol-induced state of confusion was of little use this time. It's a puzzle, and the 3 beers I had should have earned me some kind of handicap, like in bowling or golf.
Nope...... they just made me more handicapped.
Seriously. When I look outside my hotel room window, I see an adjacent building roughly 15 feet away that looks like a group of engineers got high together and thought, "DUUUUUUDE.......... let's put another F-ing building RIGHT THERE, MAN!! HAHA!! That would be totally GROOOOVY!!!! People could like, peep into each other's windows and stuff!" Kind of like when you're really schnockered and think you're the Dos Equis guy - the MOST interesting man in the world..... then when you sober up the next day you find out that you in fact were a total JACKASS. This hotel is a gumbo of afterthoughts, a village with its own zip code thrown together into one steaming pile of multicolored moldy fermentation and creaky floors. Every time I stay here, I see a different kind of mold on the ceiling or a different mystery stain creatively placed somewhere in the room. To be fair, I'm sure the rest of the hotel is excellent. Each one of the 5 buildings connected together via hallway is named - The Presidential, the Executive, The International..... I kept thinking...."Where's the GHETTO?!?" That's where the airline crews stay!
Please don't think I'm complaining. I am, in truth, having a freaking BLAST on this 4-day. AND.... my moldy hotel room at least has a fridge so I can store the rest of my grilled chicken. It's gonna be a total of 10 days on the road for me this time. Poor Sweet Cheeks and Clara the Cat won't remember me when I get home.
My FO comes from a background of corporate. He just made 2nd year pay, which is about a third of what he made at his corporate job. I felt guilty that my in-flight meal today was home-cooked chicken breast (grilled under a brick by yours truly) and spinach drizzled with garlic-infused olive oil and half an avocado. His in-flight meal was a few pieces of bread and some peanut butter with a tortilla chip chaser.
Day 1 of our 4-day had us arriving in Omaha, NE at around 10am, with nothing to do but entertain ourselves until 1600 the NEXT DAY. Oh.... AND there was another crew with the same layover. Needless to say, we went out. We had a Tex-Mex lunch (during happy hour!), went to a casino, and then went back to the hotel for dinner and a nightcap.
It was reminiscent of the "good ole days" in St. Louis. It wasn't like I was at work. It was like a few friends and I took a plane up to the Midwest to hang out and have fun.
THAT'S what this career is all about!!
Today, we spent the day fighting the gusty winds and building storms in Wisconsin. Our last flight of the day (leg 5) from Rhinelander to Milwaukee had us deviating a great deal East, hugging the coast line of Lake Michigan before we were clear of the storms. It made me long for my freight hauling days - instead of flying around the storm, I'd just pick the best spot and fly THROUGH the storm and hit the bar early!! I really miss those days sometimes. Who am I kidding, I miss those days ALL the time.
Oh.... this "high mins" crap is getting old. I don't know if every airline does this, or just mine, but for the first 100 hours of Captain Time for me, I have to fly EVERY leg, and execute EVERY takeoff and landing. I feel so sorry for my poor FO's who are reduced to radio jocks and gear swingers - BORED out of their MINDS. Although, I never minded when I flew with a high mins Capt when I was an FO, because it was like I didn't have to work at all - PLUS, I could flirt with ATC!!! Totaling up my time.... I only have about 75 more hours before I'm off high mins!
Anyway. Time to find some baseball on the tube (Preferably the Cardinals, but I'll watch any team). I've run into a couple of people lately who've asked me how I like being captain. I always answer truthfully, "I love it!" It's like a whole new job. At last, I get to make the calls I want without worrying about carefully watching my words. I don't have to remember how every captain likes certain little things. I get to control the mood of the plane - which is jovial, or at least sarcastic and witty. I finally get to control the things I hated about flying with guys I didn't like, as well as do and say the things that the guys I loved flying with did. Does that make sense? Even though the commute, the schedule, the same complaints that come with working for a regional airline - they are all legitimate and ever-present, I have a renewed sense of gratitude that I am in this profession. I wouldn't trade it for anything!
Monday, May 28, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Yep, I'm in charge now.
All tests passed, training is complete! I am now officially "Captain Willes!" Or "Cap'n D?" Or "Captain Squeaks?" Or "Capt. Squeaky D?"
Or maybe just the Bitch in charge! We'll see what my crews really call me after a 4-day.
The last blog update was written during a very stressful time. I don't remember the last time I was that miserable. It was probably during my initial training. Looking back and comparing the two, I will say that while the initial training was more emotionally taxing, Upgrade was more unpleasant and painful than a simultaneous root canal, hysterectomy, colonoscopy, appendectomy, and surprise amputation of a body part of the surgeon's choosing. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl during upgrade, and I thought it would never be over. I have a new respect for those unfortunate folks who are just above me on the seniority list who went through Upgrade years ago, only to be downgraded to FO a few months later, and then upgraded again. They went through the process TWICE! I'd rather have my toenails removed with a putty knife. Granted, a lot of this stress I placed upon myself because of how much it meant to me to be given this opportunity. It wasn't just about the much-needed raise in pay. It was a new certificate (ATP) and a type rating - just the possession of which opens doors that were closed to me as an FO with just my commercial pilot's certificate. It's another step up the career ladder; one step closer to my version of success. In short, it was kind of a big deal.
Since I was simply making a transition from the right seat of the EMB-145 to the left seat, I was given the "short course." That means a week and a half of ground school, 4 simulator sessions, an oral exam, and a check ride. Followed by 25 hours of IOE (Initial Operating Experience) and a Fed ride (a revenue flight with a check airman acting as my copilot and the FAA in the jumpseat). The whole process started on April the 2nd, and ended with the Fed ride on May the 10th.
The first simulator session was a disaster. Everyone said it would be, but I didn't really believe it would be that bad. I expected my hands to be confused; I didn't expect my eyes to be lost, too. Think about it: my hands have been trained to make certain motions when my mind commands them for the over 5 years I sat in the right seat. All of a sudden, they have opposite duties. Which is bad in itself, but add to that the fact that now I can't freaking FIND ANYTHING with my eyeballs. The screens are in the wrong place. Even stupid stuff like the autopilot and flight director buttons were difficult to find. I found myself glancing at the FO's displays just to set the altitude. What's worse is that I was so paralyzed by the fear of that stupid simulator, I was wound up too tight to do any thinking at all. Couple that with continued self abuse of my mind screaming, "Delia, WTF is wrong with you?? You fly!! This is what we DO! Why are you losing 200 feet in the steep turn, you moron?!?" I walked out of that box holding back tears and frustration because I felt that I didn't belong in ANY airplane, much less a jet that carries 50 trusting people. I thought I'd slipped through the cracks. I thought about quitting and going back to school to do something else.
Then I had some wine. I called my friends, vented on facebook, and wrote to my mom, and prayed. We had the next day off, so I spent the day in my room in front of my cockpit poster, chair flying and slowly going through everything mentally from the setup check to the shutdown check. It took hours.
It worked.
I got progressively better each day. I was able to finally relax in the sim. It's easier to control the thing when you're not shaking! When it came time for the check ride, I walked the long walk to the sim telling myself, "You've got this. You've already earned your ATP and type rating. You just need to step into that box and get them." The check ride itself was a piece of cake. Well, except for the stalls, which were pretty ugly. There was a tense moment after my completion of the stalls when I listened for the beeping of the simulator bridge to lower. When I didn't hear that, I knew I was home free. I kept my head about me, slowing down, doing things in a deliberate manner, planning what comes next. I finished the ride with the most beautiful visual approach to a no-flap landing I've ever done. Of course, upon landing, the entire plane caught fire (not my fault!!!), and I had to execute an emergency evacutaion. I performed the memory items and shut down the plane. There was a beat or two. I turned around to face the examiner and he said, "Congratulations Delia. You passed!"
I exited the simulator in the slow motion manner of a cheesy film. I swear I could hear Freddy Mercury singing, "Weeeeee are the champ-ions....... my fri-end...." Randy (my sim partner and upgrade partner through it all) was coming down the long walkway towards me. I gave him a thumbs up and a huge smile. He hugged me and said, "Congratulations, Captain Willes!" I responded with "Congratulations to you, Captain Crider!!" It was the best day of my life.
The last day of sim is called "LOFT." It's supposed to stand for "Line Oriented Flight Training," and is supposed to be a flight from point A to point B with just a small malfunction. Yeah, a real snoozefest! We had an instructor who knew we had already had 5 years of that already, so he let us play with the airplane a bit. Short field takeoffs, dead-stick landings, that sort of thing. It was a lot of fun, and I felt it was really beneficial, too. At the conclusion, I asked him if he had any advice for us, since he'd spent 30+ years as a captain for Ozark, TWA, and American. He said, "Four things. Take care of your passengers, take care of your crew, take care of yourself, take care of your airplane. In that order. You will never have any trouble if you do those four things."
As for IOE, I had the benefit of flying with 3 seperate check airmen during my experience and learned a lot from each one. I finished up my training with a gal who was sharp as a tack and didn't take crap from anybody! Everyone who has flown with her just loves her. She is a really good teacher and constantly had me thinking with her "what if" questions. She knows the rules, the takes care of her crews, she sticks to her guns. Everything about her exudes confidence. In short, she's exactly the kind of captain I want to be.
Fed ride day. My Fed ride was also another potential check airman's Fed ride. This means that while I'm going for Captain, my acting first officer is a captain going for Check Airman cert. The FAA observes him as much as he observes me, and in the end gives him the FAA's blessing to go forth and teach. So, it was a big day for both of us! It was a revenue flight from Indianapolis to Chicago. A dear friend of mine, Adam, had just passed his Check Airman ride and knew he was bringing the plane for our ride. He was kind enough to leave the MEL book open so I wouldn't have to stumble around to find the deferred maintenance item. Plus, he gave me a hug and left me a good luck note to "kick ass!" It really meant a lot to me. The flight itself was nothing significant. The weather was perfect. I was nervous, but did ok. The FAA examiner was very cool. He was from Louisiana, how could he not be cool?
When it was over, I hugged the flight attendant, high-fived the newly certified Check Airman, texted Sweet Cheeks, and called my parents. I didn't stop smiling the rest of the day.
Now, I'm on reserve at my new home away from home in Columbus, OH. It appears that Scheduling doesn't need me today, but I already have a trip assigned for tomorrow for a round trip from Columbus to Boston. I'm excited about my job for the first time in years! I spend half my time not believing this has really happened, and the other half praying I don't f**k up! I don't think you're supposed to use the F word when you talk to God; looks like confession time for me again!!
I want to thank each and every one of the people I emailed, called, texted, complained to, cried with, and otherwise leaned on who really believed in me when I didn't believe in myself - especially my Mom and Dad.
Thank you for your continued support and for always being in my corner. I am so happy that now I can go on to reading things for the simple joy of reading that have nothing to do with airplanes!!!
I think I'll start with the Pilot Reserve section of our contract.
Or maybe just the Bitch in charge! We'll see what my crews really call me after a 4-day.
The last blog update was written during a very stressful time. I don't remember the last time I was that miserable. It was probably during my initial training. Looking back and comparing the two, I will say that while the initial training was more emotionally taxing, Upgrade was more unpleasant and painful than a simultaneous root canal, hysterectomy, colonoscopy, appendectomy, and surprise amputation of a body part of the surgeon's choosing. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl during upgrade, and I thought it would never be over. I have a new respect for those unfortunate folks who are just above me on the seniority list who went through Upgrade years ago, only to be downgraded to FO a few months later, and then upgraded again. They went through the process TWICE! I'd rather have my toenails removed with a putty knife. Granted, a lot of this stress I placed upon myself because of how much it meant to me to be given this opportunity. It wasn't just about the much-needed raise in pay. It was a new certificate (ATP) and a type rating - just the possession of which opens doors that were closed to me as an FO with just my commercial pilot's certificate. It's another step up the career ladder; one step closer to my version of success. In short, it was kind of a big deal.
Since I was simply making a transition from the right seat of the EMB-145 to the left seat, I was given the "short course." That means a week and a half of ground school, 4 simulator sessions, an oral exam, and a check ride. Followed by 25 hours of IOE (Initial Operating Experience) and a Fed ride (a revenue flight with a check airman acting as my copilot and the FAA in the jumpseat). The whole process started on April the 2nd, and ended with the Fed ride on May the 10th.
The first simulator session was a disaster. Everyone said it would be, but I didn't really believe it would be that bad. I expected my hands to be confused; I didn't expect my eyes to be lost, too. Think about it: my hands have been trained to make certain motions when my mind commands them for the over 5 years I sat in the right seat. All of a sudden, they have opposite duties. Which is bad in itself, but add to that the fact that now I can't freaking FIND ANYTHING with my eyeballs. The screens are in the wrong place. Even stupid stuff like the autopilot and flight director buttons were difficult to find. I found myself glancing at the FO's displays just to set the altitude. What's worse is that I was so paralyzed by the fear of that stupid simulator, I was wound up too tight to do any thinking at all. Couple that with continued self abuse of my mind screaming, "Delia, WTF is wrong with you?? You fly!! This is what we DO! Why are you losing 200 feet in the steep turn, you moron?!?" I walked out of that box holding back tears and frustration because I felt that I didn't belong in ANY airplane, much less a jet that carries 50 trusting people. I thought I'd slipped through the cracks. I thought about quitting and going back to school to do something else.
Then I had some wine. I called my friends, vented on facebook, and wrote to my mom, and prayed. We had the next day off, so I spent the day in my room in front of my cockpit poster, chair flying and slowly going through everything mentally from the setup check to the shutdown check. It took hours.
It worked.
I got progressively better each day. I was able to finally relax in the sim. It's easier to control the thing when you're not shaking! When it came time for the check ride, I walked the long walk to the sim telling myself, "You've got this. You've already earned your ATP and type rating. You just need to step into that box and get them." The check ride itself was a piece of cake. Well, except for the stalls, which were pretty ugly. There was a tense moment after my completion of the stalls when I listened for the beeping of the simulator bridge to lower. When I didn't hear that, I knew I was home free. I kept my head about me, slowing down, doing things in a deliberate manner, planning what comes next. I finished the ride with the most beautiful visual approach to a no-flap landing I've ever done. Of course, upon landing, the entire plane caught fire (not my fault!!!), and I had to execute an emergency evacutaion. I performed the memory items and shut down the plane. There was a beat or two. I turned around to face the examiner and he said, "Congratulations Delia. You passed!"
I exited the simulator in the slow motion manner of a cheesy film. I swear I could hear Freddy Mercury singing, "Weeeeee are the champ-ions....... my fri-end...." Randy (my sim partner and upgrade partner through it all) was coming down the long walkway towards me. I gave him a thumbs up and a huge smile. He hugged me and said, "Congratulations, Captain Willes!" I responded with "Congratulations to you, Captain Crider!!" It was the best day of my life.
The last day of sim is called "LOFT." It's supposed to stand for "Line Oriented Flight Training," and is supposed to be a flight from point A to point B with just a small malfunction. Yeah, a real snoozefest! We had an instructor who knew we had already had 5 years of that already, so he let us play with the airplane a bit. Short field takeoffs, dead-stick landings, that sort of thing. It was a lot of fun, and I felt it was really beneficial, too. At the conclusion, I asked him if he had any advice for us, since he'd spent 30+ years as a captain for Ozark, TWA, and American. He said, "Four things. Take care of your passengers, take care of your crew, take care of yourself, take care of your airplane. In that order. You will never have any trouble if you do those four things."
Fed ride day. My Fed ride was also another potential check airman's Fed ride. This means that while I'm going for Captain, my acting first officer is a captain going for Check Airman cert. The FAA observes him as much as he observes me, and in the end gives him the FAA's blessing to go forth and teach. So, it was a big day for both of us! It was a revenue flight from Indianapolis to Chicago. A dear friend of mine, Adam, had just passed his Check Airman ride and knew he was bringing the plane for our ride. He was kind enough to leave the MEL book open so I wouldn't have to stumble around to find the deferred maintenance item. Plus, he gave me a hug and left me a good luck note to "kick ass!" It really meant a lot to me. The flight itself was nothing significant. The weather was perfect. I was nervous, but did ok. The FAA examiner was very cool. He was from Louisiana, how could he not be cool?
When it was over, I hugged the flight attendant, high-fived the newly certified Check Airman, texted Sweet Cheeks, and called my parents. I didn't stop smiling the rest of the day.
Now, I'm on reserve at my new home away from home in Columbus, OH. It appears that Scheduling doesn't need me today, but I already have a trip assigned for tomorrow for a round trip from Columbus to Boston. I'm excited about my job for the first time in years! I spend half my time not believing this has really happened, and the other half praying I don't f**k up! I don't think you're supposed to use the F word when you talk to God; looks like confession time for me again!!
I want to thank each and every one of the people I emailed, called, texted, complained to, cried with, and otherwise leaned on who really believed in me when I didn't believe in myself - especially my Mom and Dad.
Thank you for your continued support and for always being in my corner. I am so happy that now I can go on to reading things for the simple joy of reading that have nothing to do with airplanes!!!
I think I'll start with the Pilot Reserve section of our contract.
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