“Uh … Cherokee Five Two Five Lima Charlie, confirm level at 5,000?”
You glance at your altimeter. It reads 4,600 feet. The pointer on the vertical speed indicator is steady on 500 feet per minute down. The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is not caused by the rapid movement of back pressure you have just applied to the yoke. You were sure that the last clearance was to maintain 3,000 feet. Your favorite expletive passes your lips. You try to recall where in your flight bag you had last seen that tattered NASA form.
