The Day I Flew Alone

Written by Aureliano Basso

There are certain flights that I suspect a pilot never forgets. For me, October 26, 2024, will always be one of them.

It was the day I flew an airplane by myself for the first time.

My wife Amy decided to come with me that day, which meant a lot because I was already feeling the pressure before I ever got into the airplane.

My regular CFI was on vacation, so one of his colleagues had to fly with me first and endorse me before I could solo. Knowing that another instructor had to evaluate me and decide whether I was ready added another layer of stress to a day that was already going to be memorable enough.

And then there was the wind.

I was flying a light-sport Tecnam P90, and it was pretty windy that day—right around the edge of the personal minimums I had established for myself at that point in my training.

It wasn’t exactly the calm, perfect morning you might imagine for a first solo.

But I had been trained for it, I had been endorsed, and it was time.

What made the moment even more significant was how quickly it had arrived. I had only logged somewhere around 11 hours of flight time when I was cleared to solo. I was still very much at the beginning of learning how to fly, yet I was about to take an airplane into the air with nobody sitting beside me.

An Empty Right Seat

There is a strange moment when your instructor gets out of the airplane and suddenly the seat next to you is empty.

Up until then, even when you are doing virtually everything yourself, there is always an experienced pilot sitting a few inches away. If something doesn’t look right, if you forget something, or if things begin getting away from you, you know there is somebody there who can intervene.

Now there wasn’t.

It was just me.

I remember the feeling of suddenly realizing that everything—the radio calls, the taxi, the takeoff, the pattern, the approach and, most importantly, getting the airplane safely back onto the runway—was entirely my responsibility.

It was overwhelming.

But there was also no time to sit there thinking about it.

I had an airplane to fly.

Three Times Around the Pattern

Once airborne, the training took over.

I quickly made my way around the pattern, completing three touch-and-goes.

And somewhere down on the ground was my wife, enthusiastically cheering every time I came around.

Apparently cheering by herself wasn’t enough. She was also encouraging the fuel-line personnel on the ramp to join in.

So while I was up there concentrating on airspeed, wind, radio calls, traffic, approaches and landings, I had my own improvised cheering section waiting for me on the ground.

Three trips around the pattern went by surprisingly quickly.

Then came the final landing.

I cleared the runway, taxied back and parked the Tecnam.

Engine off.

Silence.

I had done it.

I Was a Pilot

It was only a short flight and only three trips around an airport traffic pattern, but the significance of it was much larger.

For the first time in my life, I had taken an airplane into the air completely by myself and brought it safely back.

There had been no instructor sitting beside me.

Nobody had touched the controls except me.

The responsibility that had seemed almost overwhelming when I saw that empty right seat had suddenly become something else: proof that I could actually do this.

There would be much more training ahead. Cross-countries, written exams, checkrides, instrument flying and eventually the decision to pursue aviation professionally were all still in my future.

But on October 26, 2024, none of that mattered yet.

That day was about three trips around the pattern in a little Tecnam, a windy Virginia day, an empty right seat, and my wife cheering from the ground.

My first solo was complete.

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