Doctorate Level

Good evening everyone. Idk if there's anyone else who still reads this. I think I've lost a fair amount of my subscribers due largely in part to my inactivity on the blogosphere. Either way I'm here now.

So I don't think I've told the story about how I ended up with Badger Flight (aka Beast Flight, Best Flight, Stacked Flight, or my personal favorite: Loyd's List of MotherFuckers) but considering I'm these cadets' flight commander and they have 100% access to reading this blog, I'm planning on holding off for a while. But one day I'll share the story with the world and hopefully it will be hilarious.

Anyway, one of my more high-caliber cadets is a pilot and was at Safecats with me for five hours last night. We got to talking and it turns out he's the only pilot I've yet met who's anywhere close to my level on the simulator. Contrary to what I'm used to, there were things about commercial aviation that he knew which I didn't! I actually learned something about the 737-NG! Imagine going your whole semi-adult life passionately knowing something inside and out, and always excitedly trying to share you wealth of fun facts about what you love with everyone, but no one ever cares. You almost always get tuned out because no one gives a shit about the flaws in the 747 automated fuel system. The only person who really at least attempts to listen is my girlfriend and my dad (which probably accounts for my deep-rooted relationship with them both). But then a strong cadet in YOUR flight, who's looking at YOU as a role model, all of the sudden can't get off the subject because he's the same as you.

It really adds to the join of being a flight commander, knowing that I am at the very least able to share a simple passion with someone who's position I was in two years ago, and then get the opportunity to build them up. I like to think that  my cadets are excessively eager to become a POC and be just like Cadet Loyd. If I've implanted that thought or even that goal then I've done enough to make myself proud. My job description is to train freshman cadets to master the basics of leadership. If they think of me as a competent leader and a role model, then I have done my job in the best possible manner. Anyone can get a dozen freshman to study a few pages in a handbook and go through the steps that make you a  "leader" on paper. But if you give them a firmly-held desire to stay in the program and work hard to develop themselves into the role model they saw in their freshman flight commander, then you've done far more than just teaching them the basics. Hopefully I provide that for Badger Flight.

Last night while talking with my cadet it felt almost as if I was talking to myself from two years ago. I remember how intensely I wanted to get to the POC level and be a flight commander. I remember the never-ending excitement to be a pilot in a guild of aviators and the thrill of getting to wear wings. I remember everything my cadet was talking about experiencing as a freshman who's just dying to fly. But I also remember, as a 100, dying to talk about airplanes with someone who knew more about it than me. And I wasn't overly fazed by the stagnant chit-chat with the seniors who couldn't get passed the basics of "oh yeah, flying's cool. 80 hours in a Warrior". No, that didn't satisfy me at all. I wanted to talk specifics, like advanced ATP-theory shit, but I was the only one in the wing who knew enough. So even as a GMC I always ended up hosting a fun fact session with slotted POC about stuff I learned when I was 14. I never had the enjoyment of throwing down fly-by-wire SOP's and terminal procedures into cool airports with the several people I couldn't wait to emulate as a POC.

FINALLY however, after being the only person on my flight-level save Col. Franklin for years, I end up finding myself wearing my flight commander crown and sitting on my flight commander throne overlooking my top-ranked, 1-seed team of knowledgeable aviators, one of which who can actually hold his own in good-ole flight sim. I could not be happier with the way that panned out.

That particular cadet and I talked for a couple of hours about the ins and outs of hardcore aviation. We both know a hell of a lot about airplanes. We both have thousands of hours logged in the most realistic simulation software. We both have read thousands of pages of manuals and carry out procedures to the tee. We both know how to get around most Class B airports without needing a map. As my good friend Alex K. once said, we both are at the doctorate level of flight simulator and the only room for reasonable improvement would be by practicing in an actual, working Boeing. Like I said, I was talking to a younger version of me.

It sounds hokey, but it overjoys me to finally have someone to share the enthusiasm with. For once I don't have to be alone at the top and can talk to someone about planes who can actually talk back. It's what I've quietly been waiting for since high school. My Badger subordinate is quite the expert on the 737NG. I know my way around the 737 pretty well, but not like I know some of my favorites like the T7. What a treat for me right!?

And I learned something yesterday! And I didn't learn it in an official manual or technical documentation! My cadet taught me something I didn't know before! What a game changer! Mentorship goes both ways; I can use that stupid overused cliche about how it's my job to teach my cadets, but my cadets teach me far more!

It's fairly interesting too, allow me to explain. Somewhere hidden in its magic, the 737-800 has an quirk about it's aerodynamics/weight characteristics causing it to have a ton of trouble in slow, controlled, steep descents. Pilots almost always pull the spoilers to full-deflect under normal conditions (weight distribution is fine, perfect amount of landing fuel) because the little fucker just can't get enough air time. For some strange physical reason, which I'm sure engineers are aware of, the ambitious little worker-bee wants to hang out at 30,000ft all day and refuses to come back down to earth without throwing a little temper tantrum and speeding up to 300kts. If you're descending on a tail-wind, forget about it — go on and ask ATC for some more room before approach because you're gonna need it. Even though I'm sure the run-and-gun NG would love an extra five minutes in the air, a spacing circle just wastes everyone's time.

 It's inherently velcroed to the sky, which I guess makes it a lot like myself.

Well I'm done blogging. Not feeling the best due to the pain killers I occasional take for my shoulder. I hope you enjoyed reading. Until next time...