上記の中で、「Pilot's Handbook of Aeronautical Knowledge（パイロットの航空知識ハンドブック）」が、座学の内容の教科書的な位置づけになっています。とても勉強になりますし、座学だけでは曖昧だった知識の再確認や予習に良いと思います。但し、私は余裕のない訓練生だったので、英語で読む時間は取れませんでした。
Returning to Japan, I was welcomed by a breathtaking sunset that set the sky ablaze with shades of pink and gold. For a moment, I just stood there, soaking it all in, feeling both the end of the journey and the promise of what’s next.
Staying calm has never been my strong suit. I tend to panic easily, get hurt emotionally, and feel things very deeply. But over time, I’ve been working on changing that.
I’m still far from being “always calm,” and unexpected events can still throw me off. Yet I’ve made progress in understanding myself and noticing how I react. A recent moment reminded me of this: I opened my front door, and a gecko suddenly fell from above. My first instinct was to panic—but instead of letting the shock linger, I paused, took a deep breath, and carried on.
Small experiences like this are surprisingly powerful. They remind me to stay present, grounded, and mindful of my reactions. Each moment is an opportunity to reflect on how I want to respond, rather than simply reacting out of fear or surprise.
I want to continue empathizing with others, reflecting on my choices, and aligning my actions with my intentions. Staying calm isn’t about perfection—it’s a journey. And I’m committed to taking it, one mindful step at a time.
Becoming Multitask-Oriented
I’ve always leaned toward a convergence-oriented mindset, so I’ve been trying to develop a more divergence-oriented approach. But honestly… I’m not entirely sure what that really means. A lot depends on how we define multitasking.
For example, in flying, I’ve learned to handle multiple tasks at once: making a climbing turn while responding to ATC instructions, scanning outside, and deciding when to level off. It sounds like multitasking, right? But with repeated practice, many of these actions become almost automatic. So, can we really call that true multitasking?
The FAA’s Aviation Instructor’s Handbook offers some eye-opening insights. It points out that the common notion of multitasking—doing multiple things at the same time—can actually create a false sense of confidence. Our brains simply aren’t wired to process two complex tasks simultaneously. Think about it: we can’t really listen to two people talking at once.
Instead, multitasking is more about prioritization—choosing which task to focus on while postponing others. But here’s the catch: deferring a task can easily lead to forgetting it entirely. This perspective made me rethink what “multitasking” really means, especially in high-stakes environments like flying.
To succeed at multitasking, we need to switch our focus quickly from one task to another—without lingering on the past or getting lost in reflection. Flying has taught me this lesson firsthand. During flight operations, there’s simply no room to dwell on good memories or distractions, and I suspect most private pilots would agree.
If you’re curious about how learning works in aviation, The Aviation Instructor’s Handbook (AIH), Chapter AIH Chapter 3: The Learning Process (faa.gov) is an incredibly engaging read.
Reading The Aviation Instructor's Handbook has been eye-opening. I’m constantly reminded of just how crucial it is to manage my attention effectively. Whether I’m in the cockpit or navigating everyday life, dividing my focus wisely makes a huge difference. Lately, I’ve been making a conscious effort to practice this skill every day—and I can already see the payoff.
Successfully Communicate with ATC Controllers
One of my goals during flight training was to communicate effectively with ATC controllers. I imagined how amazing it would be to handle these interactions smoothly, and improving my English-speaking skills was a big part of that journey.
Now that I’ve earned my private pilot license (PPL), I can confidently say that I meet the basic requirements for communicating with controllers and other pilots. Still, my ultimate goal has always been to speak as fluently as a native English speaker.
As I continue with advanced flight training, I realize there’s still so much more to learn and improve. While I’ve technically achieved my PPL-level objective, I’m not completely satisfied with my current abilities.
Looking back, it’s a bit tricky to judge whether I’ve fully accomplished all three of the goals I set at the start of my training—but the journey itself has been incredibly rewarding.
The Meaning of PPL Training in My Life
It’s more than just “meaning.” It’s an impact—one that has shaped my life in ways I could never have imagined.
Since earning my private pilot license, my life has changed profoundly. And no, it’s not that I suddenly moved from a small house to a mansion, or magically achieved everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
It’s not even about having vivid memories of my training. It goes far beyond that. Someone once told me that I now had a great story to tell—and I couldn’t disagree more.
What I’ve gained is far greater than a story. It’s a deep, lasting impact. Through flight training, I’ve glimpsed a world I never knew existed. I’ve grown by chasing what truly excites me, through moments of both joy and struggle. It’s like the feeling of standing before a breathtaking landscape while traveling—utterly humbling and exhilarating at once.
Material possessions—money, houses, treasures—cannot travel with us into another world. But the impact of these experiences—the awe, the fulfillment—stays with me, carried always in my heart.
Perhaps the most enduring lesson has been learning to give my best and leave the rest to the heavens. That mindset continues to guide me, shaping my journey even when the path ahead is uncertain.
My Journey with CFIs
I’ve mentioned before that I first learned about the role of a CFI (Certified Flight Instructor) during my flight training. For those who have followed this blog from the beginning, it’s clear how essential a strong partnership between student pilots and CFIs is to the success of flight training. This collaboration was a key factor in my journey—and one of the influences I’ve reflected on so often.
I was incredibly fortunate to meet a CFI who taught me the importance of keeping flying fun. In a world full of both positive and negative influences, encountering someone who inspires and uplifts you is truly meaningful. I can confidently say that any CFI who makes it their mission to instill joy in their students has more than fulfilled their role—they’ve done so completely, if not beyond.
Looking back, I realize that this principle extends far beyond flight training. Life itself is shaped by a mixture of joy, sorrow, and frustration—and by the people we meet and part with along the way. Even the most bitter memories, I’ve found, can eventually be transformed into something as pure and refreshing as water.
Turning Dreams into Reality Without Losing Yourself
I often see business ads, especially in fields like aviation, proclaiming slogans like, “Let’s make your dream come true.” And yes, having a dream and working to achieve it is incredibly important. But I’ve learned to be wary of those who see people’s dreams merely as a way to make a profit. Is it fair for employers to exploit someone’s aspirations, hiring or treating them in ways that serve only the company’s interests? It can feel almost like they’re squeezing the life out of you.
From my own experience, turning a dream into reality takes both passion and a clear, level-headed perspective. You need to look beyond catchy slogans like “Let us help you make your dream come true.” Making someone’s dream happen isn’t simple—and it’s wrong for those who’ve already faced life’s hardships to take advantage of the dreams of those who haven’t.
At the same time, it’s essential to recognize and cherish the people who genuinely care about you. These are the ones who support you not because of what you can do for them, but because they truly want the best for you. Surrounding yourself with people like that makes the pursuit of your dreams not just possible—but meaningful.
Finale
It’s been many years since I first took to the skies in the U.S., and I still feel grateful for the chance to return a few years later to pursue instrument rating training. Since then, life has thrown its fair share of surprises my way, yet the memories of flying in the U.S. remain some of my most cherished.
I’ve heard there are other aviation-friendly countries, where small planes soar just as often as big commercial jets—just like in the U.S. Someday, I hope to take an introductory flight in one of those places, gliding over the stunning landscapes that I adore.
For a few days after my checkride, I felt relaxed. For the first time in quite a while since starting flight training, I had nothing to do. And strangely, I felt a big empty spot in my heart.
Before my checkride, I had asked my instructor to give me a flight that would roughly demonstrate what flying IFR is like. Now I was a private pilot, but before that, I had no real idea what being a pilot truly meant. I had even been practicing ATC phraseology for IFR flights when I should have been using VFR procedures. On top of that, my mental image of flying was always IFR, so I felt that without experiencing IFR firsthand, my flight training couldn’t really be complete.
What is IFR?
The glossary added at the end of Pilot’s Handbook of Aeronautical Knowledge (PHAK) defines Instrument Flight Rules (IFR) as follows:
Rules and regulations established by the Federal Aviation Administration to govern flight under conditions in which flight by outside visual reference is not safe. IFR flight depends on flying by reference to instruments in the cockpit, and navigation is accomplished by reference to electronic signals.
Since the rule says “under conditions in which flight by outside visual reference is not safe,” flying in these
situations inevitably requires assistance from Air Traffic Control (ATC). That means a pilot must file a flight plan, and even if the weather is technically VMC, you cannot do so without an Instrument Rating.
In addition, flying in Class A airspace—from 18,000 feet MSL up to FL600 (the portion marked in red in the figure below)—also requires an Instrument Rating. For more details on airspace classifications, check out Chapter 15 of the PHAK.
From My PHAK Translation Notebook
By the way, the airspace above FL600 is called Class E, which, as I understand it, is where space aircraft or military test flights operate. In Top Gun: Maverick, when Darkstar takes off without informing their boss, Maverick radios, “Tower, this is Darkstar, we’re ready for takeoff, requesting an unrestricted climb to 600 and above.” This tells us that Darkstar will be flying in Class E airspace above FL600.
Another interesting detail is the controller’s response to this request: “Darkstar, the runway and skies are yours.” I just love how that line conveys both authority and freedom!
Anyway, sorry for going off on a tangent.
On IFR flights, the charts you use are quite different from those for VFR flights. While VFR charts give you a broad overview without separating the flight into phases, IFR charts are much more structured. They’re divided into specific types, depending on the phase of flight—departure, enroute, arrival, and approach—so pilots can reference exactly what they need at each stage.
From FAA Instrument Procedures Handbook, ILS Approach Chart
So-Called “IFR” was Fun
In response to my request to get a rough feel for IFR flights, my instructor planned a flight departing from and returning to Cilantro Airport, cleverly dubbing it the “So-Called IFR”—I have to admit, nice branding.
This So-Called IFR was essentially an IFR version of a VFR Familiarization Flight, making it more enjoyable than intense flight training. The instructor handled all ATC communications, while I focused on flying by reference to the instruments in the cockpit.
I can handle “flight by reference to instruments,” just as I practiced during my hood sessions in PPL training. As I mentioned in my article “2.7 (2) Controlling the Airplane under the Hood”2.7 (2) Controlling the Airplane Under the Hood | 自家用操縦士訓練物語～超怖がりな私が空を飛んだ日（My PPL Training Days）, those hood sessions helped me develop a calm, focused mindset, free from distractions and the second-guessing of both myself and my instructors.
During this flight, I tried to experience IFR flying firsthand. By listening carefully to ATC communications between the controller and the instructor, I noticed that ATC interactions are more frequent than during VFR flights, and each transmission tends to be longer. Several ATC facilities required us to switch frequencies often, and a lot more numbers are involved—heading, altitude, and airspeed all need constant attention.
There are several types of approaches in IFR flying. This time, we requested an ILS approach. An ILS approach relies on the Instrument Landing System, where the pilot aligns the aircraft with the lateral and vertical needles on the ILS instrument to follow the precise approach path to the runway.
From FAA Instrument Flying Handbook, the system of the Instrument Landing System (ILS)
IFR vs. VFR: A Student’s Perspective
From a student’s point of view, I noticed a few key differences between IFR and VFR training. First, IFR requires much more preparation. Second, communication with ATC increases dramatically. And I realized that everything I had practiced during my PPL training was still relevant—IFR just builds on top of it.
After the so-called “IFR” portion, we flew three traffic patterns. I lost focus, and my flight wasn’t great—LOL. But even just three patterns included so many checkride elements, like S-turns, the 360 maneuver, and dealing with wake turbulence while flying behind a DC-3. It was…a lot to handle!
Even though the checkride was over, my instructor continued teaching as usual. That’s when it really hit me: flying is fun precisely because there’s always something new to learn. On my final landing, despite the crosswinds, I managed to touch down safely with the nose aligned with the centerline—not perfect, but not bad at all.
And just like that, my PPL flight training came to an end. My instructor reminded me, “Your skills and knowledge will regress if you stay away from flying, but now that you have your PPL, you’ll quickly get them back.” I had no idea when I would return for instrument rating training, but I finished PPL training feeling positive, accomplished, and genuinely happy.
These past few months have been packed with events and challenges. How meaningful will this experience be for the rest of my life? And did I meet the three objectives I set for myself? (To be continued in the finale…)
ちなみにFL600超はClass Eという空域になり、ここは宇宙関連の飛行とか軍の試験飛行などで使うっていうことだと理解しています。「トップガン・マーベリック」のダークスターがこっそり離陸しちゃうとき、マーベリックが「Tower, this is Darkstar, we’re ready for takeoff, requesting an unrestricted climb to 600 and above.（タワー管制、こちらダークスター、離陸準備整った。FL600以上まで無制限の上昇を要求する）」って言ってますから、このFL600以上のClass E空域を飛ぶってことですよね。
それにしても、このマーベリックの要求を許可する管制官の応答が粋です。なんてったって「Darkstar, the runway and skies are yours.」ですから。・・・脱線してすみません。
最後に、3回、VFRの場周経路（Traffic Pattern）を飛びました。気が緩みすぎだし、はっきり言って・・・下手でした（笑）。たった3回の場周経路ですが、例の試験でも出た「S旋回（S-Turn）」やら「Make 360」やらDC-3型機の後から着陸する「Caution Wake Turbulence」も網羅されていて？中身の濃いフライトをさせてもらいました（笑）
Normally, soon after parking at the airport, the result—success or failure—is revealed. If you pass the checkride, the examiner will offer a handshake. Apparently, I had passed, but the examiner seemed in a bad mood because the checkride had taken longer than expected, with several S-turns and go-arounds.
As usual, my eyes naturally welled up—I couldn’t stop the tears. Back at the office, the examiner finally brightened up and printed out my temporary certificate. In the U.S., this is the moment you officially become a private pilot and are allowed to fly solo. My impression? Success felt almost… anticlimactic. Yet now, I realize I need to learn how to stop crying in such moments.
In Japan, we usually reserve the word “pilot” for someone who flies commercially. In the U.S., even a PPL holder is called a “pilot,” which I find fascinating.
That day, as the tension drained away all at once, I felt utterly exhausted. The only time I’d ever been truly hyper was during my first solo landing. Other than that, I’ve mostly been awkward, silly, and struggling through each flight.
People around me hesitated to ask about the result—they probably didn’t expect me to pass. A few days later, they asked gently, holding back a bit. So kind! (continued…)
Next Morning
The next morning, the roar of thunder and pouring rain woke me up. Once the rain let up, I went for a walk with no particular destination, letting the sunshine guide me toward our base airport, located east of my host family’s house.
For a while, I just daydreamed, watching the runway, planes, and the airport beyond the fence. Sunlight broke through the clouds, painting the sky with beautiful colors. I was supposed to fly home in a few days, but I wished I could stay and keep flying every day—well, except for the occasional airwork, LOL.
I can’t say for certain that there haven’t been any risky situations, but so far, I haven’t declared a failure. What a miracle!
I’ve been working hard on several kinds of takeoffs and landings in the traffic pattern, even though I wasn’t confident at first. During this session, I followed the examiner’s exact instructions. The sequence was:
1. Short-Field Landing
2. Short-Field Takeoff
3. Soft-Field Landing
4. Soft-Field Takeoff
5. Forward Slip – dissipating altitude and increasing descent rate without increasing airspeed after intentionally maintaining a higher altitude
6. Normal Landing
During the soft-field landing, I performed a go-around for safety and successfully tried the landing again. After that, I did a touch-and-go for a normal takeoff, climbing on a higher approach path to set up for the forward slip.
As I monitored communications between the controller and other traffic, I noticed heavy traffic—similar to yesterday. Two planes even had confusingly similar tail numbers. The situation felt chaotic.
Just as I was about to start the forward slip, the controller instructed me to do an S-turn. “Whoa, is this the same complicated situation as yesterday, with an S-turn during a forward slip?” Fortunately, I managed it successfully and prepared to land. Then ATC instructed me to go around.
I followed the go-around instruction again. By this point, the examiner seemed to be in a bad mood. The heavy traffic made things even more chaotic. I knew this go-around wasn’t my decision—it was ATC’s—but I continued to communicate my intentions clearly.
Before entering the downwind leg, the controller instructed me to make a 360 (flying a full circle while maintaining altitude back to the traffic pattern). “Whoa, here we go again, another complex maneuver just like yesterday.” This time, my readback was clear: “Three sixty.” I managed to maintain altitude perfectly—YASSSSS! But the examiner still looked displeased. Did I do something wrong?
Now I was attempting a forward slip for the second time. Next time, for sure! I approached a bit higher than usual. Oh my goodness—this time, ATC instructed me to go around without even a single S-turn. I could tell the examiner was in an even worse mood.
Finally, on the third attempt at a forward slip, I landed successfully. Don’t cause any trouble. Stay focused, I reminded myself. I went carefully through the checklist and parked the aircraft.
So far, I haven’t been declared a failure. Could it really happen at the very last moment? (continued)
On the day of the checkride, I woke up at 5 in the morning to prepare NAV LOG and Weight and Balance Sheet.
I wanted to wake up earlier since I'm slow in preparing them, but needed good sleep. As a result of taking balance between enouth sleep and enough time for preparation, I decided it.
I met my instructor at 8 in the school. When walking in the ramp area to the plane, I was in a refreshed feeling: I’ve been doing my best, and I’ll leave the rest to heavens. While flying to Salt Airport, the instructor said his stomach hurt. Although it may be joking, I was nervous yesterday, and he is nervous today, conversely. LOL
After the instructor exchanged a few words with the examiner, he left the office. The oral portion has begun. First, he did some paperwork such as checking my log book etc. Now, he started to ask questions. There were another “me” in the air above right, seeing me answering the questions, saying “It’s really started.”
<Oral Portion>
As for the oral portion, I studied hard, and there wes no problem. However, as it took almost three hours, I couldn’t imagine that I would complete the Flight Portion as well.
After the oral portion finished, the examiner told me to do preflight inspection for the flight. That means I passed the oral portion because you cannot proceed to the flight portion without passing the oral portion.
<Flight Portion>
Today’s objective is just not to lose heart. In addition, I decided to speak out every intention during the exam, which was coming from some advice by the excellent peer student. I’m not as good as him, but I will try the best I could.
During the preflight inspection, the examiner asked me a few questions. I recognized that the flight portion has begun. I got on a plane, thinking that I have to stay focused.
First, we fly to the second checkpoint in accordance with the NAV LOG I prepared in the morning. There, the examiner told me to divert to any airport that satisfies the conditions he suggested. He also suggested to be alert to the other traffic flying at the same altitude over there. I followed the procedures of diversion. Diversion means that we fly to the other airport than scheduled due to problems such as fuel, weather, or aircraft, etc.
Then, you are supposed to judge whether you can fly to the alternate airport by verifying the distance and fuel required. So while calculating these, you have to fly the airplane circling there. At this point, I tend to pay attention to the calculations, and in this case I was also distracted by the other traffic flying at the same altitude.
Watch out! There is a “prohibited” airspace just nearby. I had a feeling that I had had the same situation before. It was happening when I flew the Third Stage Check, and at the same place. I remembered that I had almost entered the “prohibited” airspace, and I avoided it. It was close.
I chose the airport for diversion and flew toward it. Then I did several airworks and flew the traffic pattern of Salt Airport.
Anyway, as my prediction of success/failure was even, I kept myself stay focused. So far, I haven’t failed. I thought it was a miracle.
Next, we will fly the traffic pattern at Salt Airport, demonstrating several kinds of takeoffs and landings. Will something happen or not? (continued)
すごい種類のハンドブックが用意されています
、英語で読む時間は取れませんでした。
）、感傷に浸ったことはなかったかも。私の場合は、少なくとも、意識の分散の必要性が心の中に芽生えたので、日々、それを意識して行動する場面は増えたのではないかと思います。
