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Photo: Robert Goyer

"Tower, 224TX. No emergency, but a door popped open and I need to come back in and get it closed."

It was yesterday morning and I was in the SR22 going up north to fly with my buddy Scott from Aspen Avionics in his Cirrus. I had just rotated, 300 feet agl and climbing and I could feel the cold seeping in and hear the air slipping in through the cracked passenger-side door. I briefly, for about a tenth of a second, thought about continuing my two-hour flight up to Oklahoma City with the wind whistling in, but abandoned that idea before it was even fully formed.

"November 224TX, make left closed traffic Runway 17 Left, cleared to land."

I was stunned, “Cleared to land before I've even turned downwind?" I thought, “What great service.”

In the Cirrus SR22 G3 Turbo you don’t need much time to get to pattern altitude. You learn to come back on the power well before you hit 1000-feet AGL. I turned left downwind and scanned the pattern, also sneaking a peak at the lineup waiting to go on 17L. There were four airplanes in the queue, including a couple of airliners. I wondered how long, once I'd gotten back on the ground, I’d have to wait to get back up in the air after closing the door, if I could indeed close the door.

I eased back on the power and selected a notch of flaps. Hundred knots on downwind, not too tight. Forty-five degrees from my intended landing spot—the numbers—I pulled back on the power and began my base turn.

As I did a Baron contacted the tower. The controller told him that he was number two, behind a Cirrus on short final. Now, there’s no shortage of Cirruses here in  Austin, so I figured, it might be somebody else, or he could just be generous today with his idea of what constitutes a “final,” seeing that he clearly wanted me number one.

I didn’t see anybody on short final, but just to be safe, I called, "And 4TX is base-to-final, 17L," being a little generous myself.

He knew exactly what I was thinking. “4TX, you’re number one, still cleared to land,” he responded. I smiled.

I dialed in another notch of flaps and slowed it down to 90 on final, then 85, a little power and then 80 in the dead-calm air. I flared over the end and touched down on the numbers, quickly getting rid of the flaps and keying the push-to-talk.

“Okay for 4TX to exit on the high-speed?” I asked the controller, who seemed a little surprised at the request. Not many pilots ask to exit on Taxiway Golf, which is, after all, barely more than 1,000 feet down the 9,000 foot runway.

“4TX, uh, that’s approved, exit on Gulf and stay with me. Pull up by the green circle to get your door closed."

That darn door. I knew what I’d done as soon as I heard it pop open. And by “open” I mean, there must have been a gap somewhere, though I couldn’t see it. The door was latched, I was fairly certain, just not sealed.

In the spirit of full disclosure, what I’d done wrong was trying to be diligent by unlocking the passenger-side door before I went flying. I forget which instructor in my distant past mentioned to me one time that you want to do that because if you’re ever in need of assistance and the only accessible door is that one, you don’t want it to be locked. Of course, even if it is locked from the outside, you can still open it from the inside, but that didn’t stop me coming up with a  couple of incredibly unlikely scenarios—like after crash landing in the jungles of Burma fighting off a Tiger with two hands while Angelina Jolie tries to rescue me from the passenger side. In a case such as that, I reasoned, you’d really want that door unlocked.

In this case, however, I wish I’d left it locked. And closed. And sealed. And warm. I taxied the airplane off to the side, where the tower controller had indicated, put on the parking brake, pulled the power to idle and closed the door. At least I thought I did. There’s no foolproof way to know, or I wouldn't be over there parked by the green circle in the first place, would I?

It took 20 seconds to get the door probably latched, but I wondered how long it would take me to watch half the Southwest Airlines fleet dispatch in front of me now.

I called the controller. “And 4TX has the door closed (I hoped once more). Ready to taxi back to 17 Left.”

“Roger 4TX, are you ready to go?”

“That’s affirmative . . . “ I responded, checking the flaps, mixture and trim while taxiing quickly up Alpha toward the end, still a couple of hundred yards away from the hold short line.

“N224TX, cleared for takeoff. Caution wake turbulence, departing Citation. Turn left heading 150.”

I was flabbergasted. I made my way through Gulfstreams and Boeings and a lone 182 and just kept right on taxiing, never even slowing for fear that he might change his mind or say, “Hold short. I was just kidding!”

But he didn’t.

I rolled around the corner and accelearted, and as I rotated and started my turn toward the Southeast, the controller turned me over to Austin Departure on 127.22.

I acknowledged, “Roger, 4TX going to Departure. Hey, and thanks for all your help this morning.”

“No problem,” is all he said.

As I worked my way up to Oklahoma City, I thought about that controller. I don’t know how many times I’ve been waiting in line when a 737 taxied by me, cleared for takeoff as I waited. Well, I do know how many times: a lot. But this time was different. This time the controller realized that I was going somewhere, that a little help wouldn’t cost anybody more than a few seconds, if that, and that I was probably, like every other little airplane driver around here, all too used to taking a vector away from the airport “for sequencing,” which on my least charitable days I take to mean, “for sequencing you away from us."

Not yesterday morning. That was special. And it felt great.

I didn’t even mind, that evening on my way back into town, back with Austin Approach, coming straight in for the Runway 17 Left, when I got the call from the guys on the evening shift.

“November 224TX, turn right heading 280, vectors for sequencing.”

I made the turn sharply.

And later when the controller thanked me for my help, I simply replied, “No problem."