Back from a break for pre-solo check
This flight was my first one back after a 10 day break. 10 days doesn’t sound like much, and I didn’t think it would affect my performance that badly, but it did. I couldn’t even start the engine properly. Ouch. Something so basic, yet I fumbled it. It was meant to be my pre-solo check, but realistically, I knew I wasn’t going to pass. My skill level just wasn’t where it needed to be. So instead of treating it like a test, I saw it as a recalibration sortie a chance to get back in the groove.
After the flight, the examiner didn’t sugarcoat it. They said I’d need at least 2 remedial lessons. I ended up getting 4. But honestly, I wasn’t upset. I’d much rather spend more time flying and strengthening my fundamentals than push through it.
Remedial
When I got back with my instructor for the remedial. Before the first lesson, they looked at me and said, “I’ll fix you.” And for some reason, that hit me hard, oddly comforting, supportive and reassuring. That was exactly what I needed.
By the third remedial, they thought I was ready and arranged a flight test for the next day. I wasn’t sure I was ready, but if they believed I could do it, I figured I’d trust that.
Ready isn’t a feeling
it’s a decision
Second Check
On the day of the test, I treated it just like another lesson. No pressure, no expectations.
On the 6th circuit, supposed to be a touch-and-go, the examiner called for a full stop. I thought I hadn’t made the cut. Solo calls usually happen during the downwind radio call, not after landing. So I figured I was heading back for that 4th remedial after all.
But once we vacated the runway, they turned to me and said “Cody, I’m going to send you solo.” My mind went blank. I didn’t feel anything, not excited, not nervous, not relieved. I just said, “Ah, okay,” with the flattest tone imaginable like i was confirming a lunch order. Like the kind of reply you’d give to “That’ll be $9.50” and you just go “ah okay, card please”. It wasn’t that i didn’t care, but i think i’d burnt through every emotion getting to this point, and there was nothing left to react with. All i felt was … stillness.
We taxied back to the run-up bay Foxtrot. Engine off. Examiner hopped out. And then it was just me. Alone in the cockpit, running through the procedures by myself.
ATIS: Foxtrot, Runway 21L, wind variable 180–240 at 12 knots, max crosswind 13 knots, QNH 1023The DA40 with just me in it was really light. My usual climbing turn turned into a medium level turn as I adjusted to how the aircraft flew with just me onboard.
On final, I came in for my first solo landing. By pure coincidence, my instructor happened to be flying with another student in the circuit and got a front-row seat to the whole thing at holding point F. Was it a textbook landing? Doubt it. But it was safe. And did i make them proud? I hope so.
Gratitude, Growth, Grit
Looking back, I’m actually grateful I failed the RT listening and the first solo check. Both setbacks gave me time. Time to reset mentally, and to shift how I looked at training.
Now, every lesson feels like a privilege. I’ve started being thankful just to fly. I treat each sortie as an opportunity to learn, not a test I need to pass, nail everything in the first go. That shift changed everything. The cockpit feels less tense. I’m more forgiving of my mistakes and more kind to myself.
Flight training demands resilience, persistence and so much more. And I’m learning that failing isn’t the opposite of progress, it is part of progress. You build from it. You learn. You keep going.
◃ back