Wings on High.

Tales from SouthWest Air, stuck in Vegas.

As I write this, I am sitting on a SouthWest Boeing 737 on a flight that’s temporarily grounded, stranded on the Las Vegas taxiway.  We were headed into Phoenix, and the FAA halted traffic between Vegas and Sky Harbour due to weather.  Fortunately, the pilots made an announcement (as we heard the engines shut down) to let us know that it wasn’t anything mechanical, and what was happening.  As the Jet Blue fiasco proved some time back, that goes an awful long way to maintaining passenger satisfaction.  Kudos to them.

Shortly after I began this post, we got a clearance via a reroute, and had to pack up for take off.  So we’re airborne now, probably close to 25,000 ft, and we’re flying through some very nasty looking clouds.  The worst we’ve had so far is a few bumps, but I can see why they’d advise against going direct.  I certainly wouldn’t have attempted it in a GA aircraft.

After we touched down in Vegas, my wife and I were set to continue on, so we stayed in the plane.  After everyone had left, I asked if I could head forward and talk to the flight deck.  Sure enough, the FO is there making preparations for the next flight on the ACARS, and so I introduce myself and ask if I could just peek my head in.  I told him I’m working on my PPL, and he understood my interest right away.  So I’m looking around, and all of a sudden I realize the instruments make sense, in a way that they never did before.  I felt oriented.  As a kid, whenever I’d see the cockpit of a plane, I knew what the basics were for – the compass, the speed, the artificial horizon.  But mostly, a cockpit seemed like a fantastic way to push buttons and knobs, and make things light up.  (Ok, so perhaps some childhood attitudes won’t ever leave).  But looking at it now, they take on meaning, an understanding that those instruments direct the operations of the aircraft.  I was looking at the altitude selector, the speed selector, and the VSI selector on the AP director and remembered having worked with the “FeelThere” CRJ 700/900 sims.  I began visualizing being midflight, and you dial these knobs and the AP takes you up a few thousand feet at whatever VSI selection you make.  Course corrections or new headings made by bringing the AP heading selector around, and we make a 10 or 15 degree bank.  Most of the comms equipment had taken on meaning as well – the radio frequencies, the squawk selection…  I was astounded, as I watched him punching departure and arrival info into the keypad, that I was following along, and could make sense of what he was setting up, in large part because of a few hours sim time.

Now admittedly, I’m not suggesting that after playing a $40 add-in for Microsoft FS 2004 that I’m intricately familiar with all the ins and outs of a multimillion dollar passenger jet, nor am I implying that I’d be able to fly one off the cuff.  But I can’t help but notice how much more familiar the cockpit felt.

The FO took off for a break, and then the captain came forward.  I’d talked with the FO real quick about how he began – he started out getting his PPL at 17, then joined the AFReserves and became a pilot in  the USAF.  He joined the airline industry about 12 years ago, and has been flying since.  The captain, as it turned out, had done something very similar.  He’d flown C120s for the AF, and left about 10 years ago and joined the commercial sector.  What was very encouraging to discover, was that even in his off hours he enjoys flying his Cessna Caravan.  He said even though he flies on an almost daily basis, he still finds excuses to get up and do more. 

We’ve left Phoenix now, just shortly after dusk.  Ever since I can remember watching airports, I’ve always loved the way the taxiways and runways look at night, especially lined up for an approach or takeoff.  I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve kicked myself for burying my camera in our luggage. 

I’m still fairly green to the flying world, I recognize this.  It’s at times frustrating, because I’m limited only by my experience.  But at the same time it’s an excitement I haven’t felt about an occupation or a hobby in years.  Starting at the ground level (no pun intended), there’s nowhere to go but up.  I don’t know what made me choose to learn to fly, but I’m grateful for whatever it is.  I’m loving every minute I get in the air, or I’m hanging around an airport, I’m researching about airplanes or careers, or even write about it.  And I can certainly say that flying as a commercial passenger will never be the same.  I just wish my talking about it (constantly) didn’t drive my wife nuts!