dhall_polo
Well Known Member
What a way to end tax day.
I'm 20 hours into my 40 hour fly-off. I never thought much about what phase 1 would be like. If anything, I guess I expected phase 1 might be boring formalities if the first few flights were good. Maybe it would be like being in time-out. I surely hoped for zero squawks. And please, please, let there be no squawks in all those impossible to reach places! Ha. Reality check. The squawks were not many, but they were there, and they've sent me all over the plane, from tail to tank. The irony is that I'm glad for every squawk. The challenge of finding and fixing issues has made me more confident in the plane and in my ability to maintain it.
Today, the list was light. I needed to bleed a little air out of the right brake which had gotten soft. I needed to put some reflective tape on the lower cowl to protect it from the exhaust heat. And there were a few things to look over that I had fixed after the last flight. Every hour of fight so far seems to bring 2 or 3 of fixing and tweaking. Ah, the joy of building continues, with one difference....
I look at my watch and up at the sky. The sun hasn't given up on me yet. I quickly fling the doors of the hangar open, and within minutes I'm a mile above rush hour enjoying a wonderful setting sun. It seems the last time I was able to enjoy such views was years ago in my old Archer. Tonight's not the night for me to test out the landing lights, so content with a little light acro and some sightseeing, I've successfully eaten up another half-hour of my phase 1, and I can check off a few more squawks.
It's still a 45 minute drive home, but that 30 minute flight was worth the price. I've fed my new addiction for another day, and the weather looks good tomorrow too....
I'm 20 hours into my 40 hour fly-off. I never thought much about what phase 1 would be like. If anything, I guess I expected phase 1 might be boring formalities if the first few flights were good. Maybe it would be like being in time-out. I surely hoped for zero squawks. And please, please, let there be no squawks in all those impossible to reach places! Ha. Reality check. The squawks were not many, but they were there, and they've sent me all over the plane, from tail to tank. The irony is that I'm glad for every squawk. The challenge of finding and fixing issues has made me more confident in the plane and in my ability to maintain it.
Today, the list was light. I needed to bleed a little air out of the right brake which had gotten soft. I needed to put some reflective tape on the lower cowl to protect it from the exhaust heat. And there were a few things to look over that I had fixed after the last flight. Every hour of fight so far seems to bring 2 or 3 of fixing and tweaking. Ah, the joy of building continues, with one difference....
I look at my watch and up at the sky. The sun hasn't given up on me yet. I quickly fling the doors of the hangar open, and within minutes I'm a mile above rush hour enjoying a wonderful setting sun. It seems the last time I was able to enjoy such views was years ago in my old Archer. Tonight's not the night for me to test out the landing lights, so content with a little light acro and some sightseeing, I've successfully eaten up another half-hour of my phase 1, and I can check off a few more squawks.
It's still a 45 minute drive home, but that 30 minute flight was worth the price. I've fed my new addiction for another day, and the weather looks good tomorrow too....
