The one-and-one is the minimum required per FAR 61.56, and when you add in the time for brief, debrief, and logbook endorsement, you often go beyond an hour, which makes the CFI late for their next client. It is much better to set aside three hours so you aren’t late—and more importantly—aren’t rushed.

• READ MORE: The One-Time Water Landing

Yet many pilots insist that one hour on the ground and one in the air is all they need, or are willing to pay for. Some pilots expect to be automatically signed off for the flight review, even if they don’t demonstrate the requisite knowledge or fly to the level of their certificate.

It doesn’t work that way. Find a CFI who is up-front about this as the Airman Certification Standards for the certificate you hold are what you should be using.

This particular client had held a private pilot certificate for more than 20 years and flew several times a month. Over the years, he had owned airplanes, but at that time, his aircraft was down for its annual, so he was renting a Cessna 172. He didn’t want to rush the flight review. As he put it, he often flew with his grandchildren and was adamant to take his time in the name of safety.

He was more than 25 minutes late. He apologized—traffic was worse than expected when he left work. As we settled into the classroom for the ground portion of the flight review, he discovered he had left his headset at home. He put new ear seals on it the night before and had left it on the kitchen table.

• READ MORE: The Importance of Following Checklists

I offered to let him borrow a spare headset. Instead, he looked at me apologetically and asked if we could stay on the ground rather than fly because his brain, he said, would not be in the airplane. 

He then told me about a rule he had for himself—the rule of three. If three things delaying the flight were distractions, he made it a rule to cancel. I have heard this so-called rule from many other pilots. Three is a cosmic number, one told me, adding that “things happen in threes” is a cliche for a reason. 

I am a student of the accident reports published by the National Transportation Safety Board. When you read them, the bad decisions are clear as day. Often the pilot is rushed or distracted.  Accidents, especially the fatalities, are often a chain of poor decisions.

Distracted = Dangerous

Flying is one of those things that demands our undivided attention. Any distraction can be detrimental to safety. When and if you are in the cockpit of a jet getting paid the big bucks, we hope you’ve learned how to compartmentalize or recognize your own limitations. There will be some days when you are too distracted to fly.

When you fly as a hobby, the stakes aren’t as high. This is not the last chopper out of Saigon, as my first CFI used to remind me. Yet even student pilots can face a lot of pressure to fly, and it comes from all directions. 

It can be a challenge for a student pilot to cancel a flight, especially when the CFI is pressing for it to happen. As a commercial candidate, I encountered a CFI who argued we could “dodge” the thunderstorms that were approaching the airport. The commercial certificate requires more knowledge of weather than the private certificate, and I had embraced this with gusto. The idea of dodging anything didn’t sit well with me.

• READ MORE: What You Need to Know About Tires When Learning to Fly

I had obtained three weather briefings—one the night before, the morning of the flight, and the last one an hour prior to the flight. On that last one the briefer remarked the cold front that was bringing the storms had “moved much faster” than the weather models had anticipated. Based on this available information, I canceled the flight. 

Dark clouds were approaching from the southwest while the CFI somewhat grudgingly helped me put the cover back on the airplane. As we were draping the cover over the fuselage the temperature dropped like someone had opened a window on a cold day. It started to hail. It came down so hard and fast a line boy ran onto the ramp to help us. I felt good about my decision.

Make It Fair

At all times it should be remembered that flight instruction is not compulsory education, but it is a business. For this reason many schools and independent CFIs have a no-show or late cancellation penalty.

This usually takes the form of a signed contract between the school, or CFI and the learner. This policy should be discussed at the first meeting and expectations established. There is often one “free pass” then after that a penalty is levied, such as the cost of one hour of aircraft rental or an hour of the instructor’s time. If the CFI does not show or is late, they owe the flight student a free hour of instruction.

• READ MORE: Don’t Skimp on Ground Instruction in Flight Training

If the learner at least makes an effort to let the CFI or school know they can’t make it, that goes a long way. One of my mentors who ran a flying club for many years took a very hard stance on this, saying if the learner was not responsible enough to make a phone call or at least send a text letting us know they were going to be late, or were not going to be there at all, they were not responsible enough to be a pilot.

When late cancellations or no-shows become a habit, the CFI and/or the flight school may stop scheduling the student altogether. If you have to consistently cancel lessons, perhaps this is not the time for you to pursue flight training.

You are paying a lot of money and investing a lot of energy in your aviation education, so do your best not to get in your own way. If the deck appears to be stacked against you, such as in the form of “the rule of three,” ask yourself if this is the day for you to be in the air.

As for the client who was there for the flight review, a quick text canceled the aircraft reservation. I assured him I was not angry with his decision not to fly, because when a pilot demonstrates good aeronautical decision making—such as recognizing that their head won’t be in the game —I say learning has taken place.  

The post Do You Have the Rule for a No-Go? appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

This is not what a CFI wants to hear when the learner is doing the preflight inspection. The learner was looking at the nosewheel of the Cessna 150, specifically, at a scalloped pattern on the side of the tire. She’d never seen this before—and frankly, in my more than 30 years of flying, neither had I. But I knew ugly when I saw it. 

One of the things I teach my learners is not to be embarrassed about asking for help, or asking a more experienced pilot or mechanic a question about something you find during a preflight. With this in mind I took a photograph of the tire with my smartphone and sent it to an A&P/IA with the text question, “OK to fly?” although I had a pretty good idea what the reply would be.

And I was right. 

The reply came back immediately: NO. A few more lines followed, mostly caveats about tires blowing at awkward moments and inquired if I needed help. I quickly explained the situation and ended with the phrase, “Decision: no-go.”

Although disappointed we could not fly, I was happy the learner had the opportunity to see a less-than-standard tire, because it allowed us to have a discussion about aircraft tires. They take a beating at a flight school, so it’s important for the learner to know what is normal and what is not. There is a reason that the checklist includes “check tires for proper inflation, damage, and flat spots.”

Negative transference—that is, applying information from something similar but different—can bite a pilot, especially with tires. One of the big mistakes made by fledgling pilots, especially those who are renting aircraft, is that they think airplane tires are the same as automobile tires, according to Randy Hedrick, customer support engineer for Michelin Tire. 

“Car tires have a wear bar. Aircraft tires don’t,” Hedrick said, noting that the flight students may not realize the aircraft tires are worn to the point of impending failure or more commonly, improperly inflated. 

“We recommend doing a pressure check before the first flight of the day. It’s normal for tires to lose pressure during the day, [so] losing up to 5 percent in two to four hours is acceptable.”

Renter pilots often don’t check the pressure of the tires as part of the preflight inspection. Improperly inflated tires can cause vibration—and that will definitely get your attention during ground operations, especially during takeoff and landing. 

Can You Change the Tire?

Most flight schools keep spare tires stocked, especially when they are also an FBO and have a visiting aircraft in need of maintenance. If they have a replacement tire, you have the tools, and it is your aircraft, so the FARs permit you to change the tire. But please don’t try to do it unless you have the proper tools and know how. 

Every mechanic contacted for this story said the same thing: It’s best to have someone with experience (like an A&P) show you how to do it at least once. There are more steps involved when changing an aircraft tire than there are when changing a tire on a bicycle or automobile, and different techniques and the right tools are a must.

For starters, you need to chock the other tires, find the jack point on your aircraft, and then have some blocks of wood to balance the jack. You have to be careful as you jack up the airplane and reposition the jack because the tire may move in.

Once the airplane is jacked up and the tire off the ground, you have to cut the safety wire. This releases the bolts that hold the brake pad in place, allowing you to take the wheel apart. That’s right—take the wheel apart.

The inner tube can take on a life of its own. Be very careful about the valve stem and be sure the tire tube is not kinked or folded. Installing the tube, whether new or used, involves talcum powder to guide in the inner tube. You have to be careful not to allow the tube to crease or fold, because that can introduce uneven wear, which you will feel when the tire rotates during ground operations.

These are just a few of the things we were warned about. There are many more steps to it, and even if you’ve done it before, you’ll probably want your A&P to check your work. You also need to log the tire change in the aircraft maintenance log.

Even putting air in the tire is not as straightforward as it is with cars. With automobile tires you find the pressure printed on the sidewall. On an airplane, that information is printed in the aircraft’s pilot’s operating handbook or airplane flying manual. Be able to find that information, noting the pressure for the nosewheel and main gear are usually different. 

Always verify those numbers before you ask someone to put air in the tires.

Flight School Tire Challenges

The flat spot is the most common issue found on flight school tires. This is caused by slamming on the brakes and locking them up.

Flat spots can be a challenge to see if the aircraft has wheel pants, so be ready to gently roll the aircraft forward by hand and check the tires all around during the preflight inspection. If the chords are showing through the tread, it’s usually a no-go situation. But there are some pilots who want to make the flight so badly that they get hit with an invulnerability stick and take the aircraft out anyway.

Please don’t be this person.

When you report an issue with a tire to the flight school you expect the maintenance crew to take a look at it. Most of them are good about this, as the aircraft doesn’t make any revenue when it is sitting on the ground.

If you are skeptical that the tire has been inspected, you can do the old chalk trick – make a line on the tire with chalk. If the tire is inspected the chalk line should disappear as the tire rolling over the ground will erase the mark. If the chalk line remains, the tire was not checked.

The post What You Need to Know About Tires When Learning to Fly appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Watch Those Wings

“Move like a minesweeper in troubled waters,” my instructor said as we pulled out of the aircraft parking area. Protocol at the school meant pulling the aircraft out of its parking stall with the towbar and positioning it perpendicular to the stall and making sure the tail wasn’t pointed at another aircraft before engine start. 

It was a confined area, so you had to move slowly, with your head looking left and right as you took care to keep the nosewheel of the Cessna 172 on the gold line. On sunny days you learned that, as long as the shadows didn’t touch, the wingtips wouldn’t hit properly parked aircraft.

Slower Is Better

One of the first lessons a fledgling pilot learns is how to taxi their aircraft. This is more than learning to steer using the rudder pedals and controlling the speed with the throttle and not riding the brakes. 

Your instructor will caution you to taxi no faster than a brisk walk and not to jam on the brakes. Instead, use energy management. Taxi as if you don’t have brakes and always be thinking of what you will do and where you will go if the brakes fail during taxi.

This is one of the reasons you test the brakes before you head to the runway. FLYING contributor Jason Blair advocates the one-at-a-time method for brake check, followed by both. I was a low-time CFI when I learned this technique, and it came in quite handy when the left brake proved to be very spongy and just this side of worthless. I was glad we discovered this before we tried to stop in the run-up area that was just on top of a berm. Had we gone down the berm, it would have been Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

• READ MORE: Paper Chase: Beware of Prop Wash

Follow the Gold Line if You Have One

How wide is the wingspan of the aircraft you fly?  How wide is the taxiway? These are metrics you need to know, especially if you intend to have a career in aviation and fly the so-called “big iron.” If the airport information page includes a warning about taxiways off-limits to aircraft with wingspan beyond a certain size, respect it.

Bad things happen when a pilot taxis too close to another vehicle. In 2010 a fueler at King County International Airport/Boeing Field (KBFI) in Seattle had to duck to avoid being decapitated when the wingtip of a business jet came through the windshield of his truck.

Maintain Centerline

In a nosewheel-equipped airplane it is fairly easy to hold the centerline. Line it up with your right leg or a line of rivets on the cowling. In a tailwheel-equipped aircraft you will need to serpentine to keep an eye on the taxiway. Don’t go too far one way or the other, and remember if you go too fast, taxiing a tailwheel aircraft can be like pushing a shopping cart backward when you are wearing heels for the first time. (Gentlemen, ask your wives and girlfriends—it is a rite of passage for us.)

Be particularly careful when taxiing up to the fuel pumps. I’m a big fan of shutting down and walking the airplane the last 10 feet or so, carefully positioning it with the towbar. Get a wing walker if needed. Most pilots are happy to help, and you will probably make a friend in the process. 

Don’t Go Rogue

Bad things happen when pilots don’t stay in their lanes. I mean that literally. I watched a Piper Seneca that was being led to parking by a designated airshow volunteer on a scooter decide to take a short cut. Rather than following the scooter, the Piper pilot turned to the right, cutting across the grass, which was rather long and hid a small ditch. When the nosewheel went into the ditch, both propellers hit the ground as well. You can guess the rest.

Ditches aren’t the only hazards. I’ve become wary of other aircraft taxiing after an experience involving a Mooney pilot who took a shortcut across the parking ramp. It was Sunday morning and the flight school ramp was very empty as most of the fleet was already up. 

There was a Mooney at the fuel pump. The pilot started the engine and revved it, spinning the aircraft as if to head to the north transient parking area. I thought he was going to head there by way of the taxi lane, but instead the pilot proceeded to head straight north over the empty tie-down positions. I should say they were empty except for tie-down straps, metal hooks, and wooden chocks. 

I had just stepped on to the ramp when there was a loud ping, and a metal hook attached to 6 inches of green tie-down strap bounced along the ramp, catching me in the left shin. It was more startling than painful, but it still made me yell, which brought Boss running. “The Mooney ran over one of our tie-downs!” I said, picking up the hook still attached to the severed strap. 

Boss put on his Dad face and went to “talk” to the Mooney pilot. The strap that he had run over now looked like a mare’s tail, there was paint missing from the propeller, and the edges were rough. It also had strands of strap embedded in it. The damage was probably expensive and definitely could have been a lot worse—all just to save a few seconds with a shortcut across parking spots.

I saved that chunk of strap with the hook, and I show it to all my learners when we discuss ramp safety. I teach them to curl up the tied-down straps and put the wooden chocks on top of them positioned so the pilot knows how far back to park the airplane in its stall. Although it takes a few minutes, I’d rather take the time than risk potential damage by leaving tie-downs and chocks in the open for the unaware and or unobservant to run over.

The post Always Remember to Taxi with Care appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

I thought about this when I saw Machado over the weekend in Puyallup, Washington, at the Northwest Aviation Conference, where he was the keynote speaker. Known locally as the NWAC, the event is always held in February and is  filled with seminars covering everything from earning a seaplane rating or getting an airline job to specialized flying like tailwheel, etc. There are always seminars on safety-related topics such as weather, flying specialty aircraft, and risk management, along with courses for aviation maintenance technicians (AMTs) to enhance their knowledge.

It’s also a great place to catch up with other pilots, some of whom you may not have seen in years.

I encountered several of my aviation “sons and daughters” (the ones I have mentored) as well as other clients. I may have only done a few flights with these people or taught their ground school, but they remember something I taught them, therefore, they remember me. It is that way for all teachers, I am told, and that makes me nostalgic for my school days since I remember particular teachers rather fondly. (Ms. Bove, Ms. Gallagher, if you are reading this, please call me.)

One person I encountered was a private pilot I trained more than 10 years ago. He introduced me to his teenager (who had been a toddler when we flew together) by saying, “This is the lady that kept daddy safe.”

That’s our job. Ideally, the CFI enables you to learn and grow your skills and manage risk, but sometimes things can go sideways. I have found that when the learner has evolved into a CFI, they often tell me about things that happened in the aircraft and how they addressed it, taking care not to alarm their learner.

• READ MORE: Loss of Thrust on Takeoff

Occasionally they are surprised to discover that there was an event like that when I was flying with them, but it was managed into a nonevent. 

An example of this came on a cold December day in the early 2000s when I was flying with a commercial certificate candidate in a Cessna 172RG. He needed to log 10 hours to qualify for his check ride. The airplane owner had made it a rule that retractable-gear aircraft in the fleet were not allowed to do touch-and-goes. This rule came to be after a Cessna 182 RG belonging to a local flying club had attempted a touch-and-go at the airport, and during the go part the aircraft settled back down onto the runway while the gear was in transit. There was a CFI/commercial applicant and CFI candidate on board. No one was hurt, but it took several hours to clear the runway. The owner of the C-172 RG also owned the airport, and she wasn’t about to risk that with one of her aircraft. So the no touch-and-goes in retractables became the rule.

We respected this, so a full-stop landing with a momentary pause on the runway was the plan as we approached the towered airport. The commercial applicant was an excellent pilot, always ahead of the airplane and on speed so we were both surprised when the touchdown was followed with a violent vibration from the nosewheel.

“My airplane!” I cried instinctively, grabbing the yoke. I had all of 100 hours dual given logged at the time.

The applicant let go.

I held the yoke back in my chest as far as it would go and notified the tower we were getting a vibration and I wanted to clear the active.

“Approved as requested,” the tower replied as we rolled toward the taxiway. “Do you need any assistance?”

“Let you know in a minute,” I said in my “mother voice.” I mean the nurturing mother voice, the one used when talking to a sick or troubled individual or a hurt animal. The mother voice designed to provide comfort. Not the “Do I have to come over there?” mother voice that even scares me when it comes out of my mouth.

The FBO was monitoring the frequency, and when it heard we were exiting the runway, the chief mechanic jumped on the tug and hurried out to the ramp. He had known me for years and recognized my tone meant something wasn’t right.

I let the airplane roll to a stop in the transient parking area. I was worried that if I applied brakes, the nosewheel would collapse, leading to a propeller strike and engine teardown and replacement. I hoped it was something easy to fix like a flat tire.

We shut down the aircraft using the checklist, then I suggested the learner go into the restaurant where it was warm while I talked with the mechanic to see what the issue was. The learner complied.

The mechanic, down on one knee examining the nosewheel compartment, suddenly let loose with a string of Anglo-Saxon references that turned the air blue. He quickly grabbed blocks of wood from the tug’s side pocket, used them to prop up the airplane’s nose, and told me to take a look.

I dropped to one knee. The Cessna 172 RG’s nosewheel compartment  is usually a dirty place. There is grime, grease, and sometimes hydraulic fluid—but not a shiny metal stub of a black rod that has sheared in half. But there it was. I wish I knew exactly what broke, but I didn’t. I can say that the mechanic informed me that, had we brought the gear back up, it would have likely become jammed and not have come back down. We were just darn lucky, he said, that the nosewheel was at the angle it was because, had it been another way, the nose would have collapsed. He said it was propped up by pure luck.

I thought of some Anglo-Saxon references of my own then called the airplane owner, who sent another CFI in a Cessna 172 to come get us.

The commercial applicant remembered the event. He had to borrow an RG from the rescuing FBO to do his check ride a few days later, but until that moment at the trade show, he never knew the details of the damage and how bad it could have been. He laughed, saying he had experienced a few emergencies of his own in his time as a CFI, and he understood my actions completely. Learning had taken place.

The post Never Let Them See You Sweat as a CFI appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

On Sunday, I found myself in the viewing area outside the fence to the ramp at a local nontowered airport. There is a picnic bench there and some signage to explain the airport to the muggles (the aviation challenged). A fence with a gate code keeps the uninitiated out of the aircraft movement area.

I was on the outside of the fence as I had finished with my learner that day and decided to take this opportunity to update my approach plate binder. I use both Foreflight on an iPad as well as the paper NOS publications for teaching as no one ever stole my NOS paper binder, and they never run out of battery life. In addition the paper they are printed on is absorbent, so if you get a nosebleed in the aircraft or that cup of coffee does an uncommanded gravity check, you have options. I prefer the loose-leaf pubs because I dislike having the big bound binder on my lap. But I have learned the plastic approach binders are just as awkward, so I divided the book in half, A-G and H-Z. 

The downside of the paper approach plates is they have to be physically replaced when they expire and that can be time consuming. It can be a challenge to install the new plates, so I do it a section at a time. On this day I was sitting at the picnic table and had just buttoned up the approach binders with the current plates when I heard a Cessna 172 approaching.

“I think I am about to be prop washed,” I thought, and I was right because the aircraft entered a turn, so its tail was pointed at the fence line, and those approach plates I had so carefully stacked on the table exploded. I was surrounded by a tornado of paper, most going over my shoulder like something out of a movie. I will admit I was a little amused, as well as annoyed. I threw myself on the approach plates like I was covering a grenade but couldn’t stop them all from escaping. 

When the aircraft shut down, I looked behind me—the binder had barfed. There was paper all over the lawn, in the bushes, in the parking lot, etc. 

Prop wash is never a good thing. Often it happens when the pilot experiences a loss of situational awareness, or the situation changes mid-process. Most airplanes don’t have rearview mirrors, so it’s a challenge to check your six. You didn’t see that person coming up behind you, or they might be a muggle and not be aware the activation of the rotating beacon is done just before engine start.

Blasting someone with prop wash can be construed as careless and reckless behavior in an aircraft, but I hope most of the time, if and when it happens, it is an accident. Apologize, clean up any mess made, and learn from the experience.

• READ MORE: Respect the Prop

Sadly, there are some pilots who will prop wash on purpose. An acquaintance of mine who flies floatplanes told me a story of how one pilot’s decision to intentionally prop wash the beach on a lake resulted in the seaplane community losing its beach location for its annual summer barbecue.

The event was held on a lake in Idaho. Most of the aircraft were a variety of Super Cubs and Cessnas on floats. The pilots were the type that flew floats for fun and told stories of landing on lakes where the fish normally die of old age. The pilots had been warned to stay away from the swimming area, which was cordoned off with rope and floats. There was ample signage warning boaters and seaplanes about the swimming area and a no-wake zone.

The party was going well until a multiengine seaplane showed up. Wake was generated. The pilot got close enough to the swimming area that the prop wash knocked down some children when he revved the engines to turn the aircraft for parking. The multiengine pilot was greeted by other pilots who were not happy with his arrival technique. Words were exchanged, and the multiengine seaplane pilot decided to leave, revving the engines again all the way to the middle of the lake. There was lots of wake generated and lots of prop wash. I am guessing the Flight Standards District Office received many complaints about that pilot. 

Intentionally prop washing someone is throwing the aviation finger. It’s a jerk move and most of us were raised better than that.

As for my experience, I spoke with the CFI after the event. The CFI in the airplane knew what happened. We have known each other for years. When she was a freshly minted instructor, she audited the private pilot ground school I taught at to get some teaching pointers. We locked eyes when she got out of the aircraft. She looked horrified and apologized profusely, quickly coming through the gate to help with the cleanup.

Another pilot who was on the ramp and witnessed the event came running to help pick up the mess. As we picked up 300-plus pieces of paper, the CFI said she tried to mitigate the prop wash as the aircraft was coasting with the power at idle and pulling into the transient parking area. When she finished with her learner, we talked about the event a bit more. And a few minutes later, I heard her telling a client about what had happened. It pleases me that learning took place.

The post Paper Chase: Beware of Prop Wash appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

I watched the first lap, hand-held radio in hand. It went great, so I ducked back inside the FBO to answer a question from the office manager about the schedule. I hadn’t been inside for more than five minutes when one of the airport regulars came in saying, “There is someone flying right traffic for Runway 15. And they are low.”

These were words that struck fear into my heart. I still had my radio on and was relieved to hear my learner making his radio call for crosswind—doing left traffic. I rushed outside. He was definitely doing left traffic and climbing to the appropriate altitude. I joined the other CFI who had a learner up. He was standing on the ramp, shaking his head as he watched the aircraft on right traffic. It wasn’t his learner, either. 

I turned up the volume on the radio. We exchanged a look of disbelief as the pilot of the wrong-way airplane giggled her way through a report of being on downwind for Runway 16. 

The office manager got on the unicom to remind pilots that the airport used left traffic and the pattern altitude was 1,500 feet for Runway 15. She said it in her Mom voice.

A female voice announced she was turning right base for Runway 15. A man’s voice jumped on the radio and informed her that the airport had left traffic. The response was a giggly, “Sorry about that!” and she kept coming. As they rolled on to final, we could see two people in the aircraft—a woman in the left seat, a man in the right.

By now there was an audience on the ramp. One of the CFIs recognized the tail number. It traced back to a flight school at another airport. The chief CFI got on the radio and suggested the errant pilot either land or depart the pattern. The reply was a giggly “OK!” followed by a low approach and go-around.

I was relieved to hear my learner announce he was on the 45 for downwind. He later told me had departed the pattern when he realized that had he turned base he would have been nose to nose with the other airplane. One of the lessons I taught him was that the right of way was not a right worth dying for. It is far better to depart the pattern than to play chicken with another aircraft.

Our chief called the flight school of the rogue airplane. We later learned the chief at the rogue school told his instructors to avoid our airport for a while. Really? That’s how you’re going to address this? What about remedial education? Wouldn’t it be better if you made sure the CFI and learners knew how to determine pattern altitude, direction of turns, etc., you know, and how to read a sectional and chart supplement and look up airport pattern information in the Aeronautical Information Manual (AIM)? 

It was noted that the airport is a mere 5 nm from an airport with Runway 16/34 that does use right traffic. But that airport sits next to an interstate, and there is a horse racing track just west of it that sticks out like a frog in a punch bowl. Our airport is actually an airpark nestled in between trees, and if you are below 2,000 feet msl, you probably won’t see it until you are just about on top of it. It was suggested that perhaps the learner on the rogue airplane and the CFI were not familiar with the area and confused the two airports. 

I am not sure what bothered me the most about that event. The fact the pilot and CFI didn’t do their homework as required by FAR 91.103, the fact they couldn’t read the sectional—which notes field elevation that would have given her a clue about the TPA and is missing the letters RP that denote right pattern for the airport—or the fact she kept giggling. The pattern is too busy a place to act squirrelly in. 

Learn the Pattern on the Ground

It is a lot easier to learn the pattern on the ground than in the air. It should begin with a review of proper procedures. Information is best gained from the AIM, Airplane Flying Handbook, airport chart supplements, and the FAA’s Aeronautical Chart Users’ Guide.

Be sure to discuss pattern entry. You may need to overfly the pattern at 500 feet above the TPA, then maneuver for the 45 entry at midfield on downwind. The 45 is part of the pattern, so be at pattern altitude. Make sure the learner is aware that pattern altitudes vary and often based on field elevation. The learner who trained at a field with an elevation of 20 feet msl and a TPA of 1,000 will be in for a rude shock when they head to an airport with a TPA of 1,500 because of a field elevation of 488.

Departure procedures can vary as well. Depending on the airspace, there may be published VFR departures. King County International Airport-Boeing Field (KBFI) in Seattle is a good example. At airports without published departures, it is often safer to get out of the pattern then begin the climb to altitude because it lessens the chance of colliding with someone flying over the airport.

Learners can become very stressed about what heading to fly on crosswind, downwind, and base. A demonstration that each turn is the previous heading plus 90 degrees does wonders to calming these concerns.

Teach learners that the presence of a control tower in operation does not relieve the pilots of the need to have their head on a swivel to see and avoid other aircraft.

Different Aircraft, Different Procedures

Single-engine airplanes are not the only aircraft in the pattern. Some learners are surprised to see helicopters at lower altitudes—they have their own set of FAA regs to follow.

• READ MORE: Use Your Checklist

The larger and faster the airplane the more room (read that altitude) it needs to maneuver. For example, twin-engine aircraft are considerably faster than most single-engine models and take longer to slow down. They will most likely overtake single-engine aircraft, so be prepared to depart the pattern and reenter on the 45. Sometimes there is a higher TPA at airports with a lot of turbine traffic for jets and turboprops to use.

It’s much better to put extra time on the Hobbs and in your logbook than end up on the 6 o’clock news.

The post Respect the Pattern at All Times appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

These were the words of Richard McSpadden Jr., who was aboard the Cessna 177RG Cardinal belonging to former NFL tight end turned FBO owner Russ Francis. The pair launched from the airport in Lake Placid, New York, on October 1 for a photo flight for the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association. McSpadden, the senior vice president of the AOPA Air Safety Institute, was a commercially rated pilot who had flown with the Air Force Thunderbirds.

Per protocol on these flights, Francis, as the owner of the airplane, would do the takeoff and landing, and Spad would take the controls for the air-to-air portion of the flight.

According to witnesses, the engine of the Cardinal surged during the takeoff and did not sound like it was making full power, yet the takeoff continued. The aircraft was in the air and out of usable runway when it turned and headed back to the airport. The runway is on top of a berm—the airplane came down in the ravine below its edge. Both men were alive and talking to rescuers, then moments later, they had passed away. The National Transportation Safety Board is still investigating the accident.

This hit me hard because I often talked with McSpadden about aircraft accidents and the importance of teaching and practicing the loss of thrust on takeoff. Although we still don’t know what caused the problem aboard the aircraft, there is a strong takeaway from this accident: if it could happen to Spad—Thunderbird Number One with all his training and experience—it could happen to any of us.

Briefing for LOTOTO

I have written far too many stories about fatal accidents that were attributed to an uncommanded loss of engine power. Often the accident happens because the pilot fails to maintain the appropriate speed as indicated on the aircraft’s emergency checklist—or worse yet, pulls back on the stick or yoke trying to stretch the glide, resulting in a stall-spin-die scenario.

A variation of this is when the pilot, trying to return to the runway, puts the aircraft into a steep bank resulting in a loss of vertical lift and a knife-edge impact in the ground.

While the procedure for engine loss at altitude is taught as an emergency usually before first solo, many pilots are not taught to brief the takeoff. That means a review of rotation speed, calling airspeed alive, and procedures if there is a loss of power on takeoff, until they begin their multi-engine training. This is a disservice to the aviation community.

Granted, in a twin, the loss of engine power on one side is dramatic in a different way, as it results in asymmetrical thrust, and the nose yaws and toward the dead engine. If the aircraft has lifted off, the asymmetrical thrust results in an uncommanded and often unrecoverable roll toward the sick engine resulting in a crash. Unless you bring the power on both engines back immediately and pitch for the appropriate V speed, you probably won’t live to tell the story.

In a single engine aircraft, a loss of engine power isn’t necessarily going to be fatal—as long as the pilot takes prompt and corrective action to maintain airspeed and has someplace to put it down.

Know the Speed You Need

There have been fledgling pilots who ask with some trepidation if a loss of engine power during takeoff is common. The answer is no, but knowing what to do if it does happen is like knowing how to put out a grease fire in your kitchen—you do not have time to experiment and an improper procedure like using water on the fire—or pulling back on the yoke or stick—can make a bad situation worse.

In the aircraft, you need to know what airspeed to pitch for. This is critical.

This speed will vary by make, model, and configuration. This information comes from the pilot’s operating handbook or aircraft flight manual and may even be placarded in the aircraft.

The pilot should also note rotation speed, and do the takeoff calculation before getting into the airplane, noting runway condition, temperature, and pressure.

Knowing what performance to expect helps you determine when a takeoff is going poorly and should be aborted. Identify an abort point. For example, if you calculate based on given conditions that you will need 1,130 feet to lift off from that 3,600-foot runway and you’re approaching 2,000 feet and you’re not up yet and the tachometer shows less than full power, abort.

Quick Reference Cards

If you fly multiple aircraft you may find it handy to make notes for each one and keep them with you for review before a flight in a particular airplane.

The first flight school I worked at had more than 10 Cessna 172s of varying models. The older models had airspeed indicators in miles per hour, the rest of the fleet was in knots. This could and did result in confusion that came back to bite a few pilots. I didn’t want to be one of them, so I wrote out the emergency speeds and V speeds for each aircraft on 3 x 5 notecards and carried them in a pouch worn around my neck that also held my airport ID. I did a quick review of the speeds for the aircraft I was assigned before each flight. 

The speed to maintain during a loss of engine power on takeoff was the big one—a knot or two could make a difference in the outcome of a situation, and I had no desire to be Junior Test Pilot in the event of an uncommanded loss of engine power, especially when I had someone sitting next to me counting on me to keep them safe.

Verbalize the Procedures

The loss of thrust or control on takeoff is part of my pre-takeoff briefing. It is concise and to the point:

If during the takeoff roll there is anything abnormal, be it an issue with controllability or engine power, we will bring the power to idle and come to a stop on the runway, then assess.

If the aircraft has lifted off and there is usable runway ahead, we will pitch for (insert speed here after verifying with checklist), land on the runway, and assess.

If the aircraft has lifted off and is out of usable runway, we will pitch for (insert speed here) and aim straight ahead or a gentle turn of no more than 30 degrees off the runway centerline aiming for someplace unpopulated, soft, and inexpensive.

Should You Turn Back?

Turning back to the runway can be a dicey situation. It is one of those scenarios I frequently practice in the ATD. If the aircraft is at least 1,000 feet agl, and the aircraft is light enough, it may be possible. It might even be doable at 800 to 700 feet. Always have an idea of where you will put it down if getting back to the runway is not an option—is there an open area of the extended centerline you could land in? An empty parking lot? Trees? A swamp? A road or street? To be clear: I am not a big fan of trying to put it down on a road or street because of power poles, cars, and street signs, however, the law of gravity cannot be denied, so do your best not to endanger anyone else.

In a Two-Pilot Situation

When flying with another pilot, the loss of thrust or controllability on takeoff briefing needs to include who will be pilot flying, because two pilots fighting over the controls is not going to help. One pilot should be pilot flying, the other should be making the radio calls if appropriate and time permits. “I will be pilot flying, you will back me up on the radio,” is the phrase to use.

Oddly, there are some CFIs that say this loss of thrust/control briefing is unnecessary and doesn’t do anything but scare the learners. I disagree—and so do the learners, like the one with the Cessna 150 who noted a lack of rpm on takeoff despite the throttle set to full power and aborted before he ran out of runway and options at the same time. Airport Mom was proud.

The post Loss of Thrust on Takeoff appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

The CFI didn’t believe the learner for one minute, as we had known each other for years, and he knew I made lots of notes during these evaluations. The debrief is extensive and considerably longer than “passed with flying colors.”

The CFI sent the learner to me, he said, because he was the poster boy for the Dunning-Kruger effect. 

The Dunning-Kruger effect is a term for a cognitive bias in which people with limited knowledge or competence in a given intellectual or social domain overestimate their knowledge or competence in that domain—and here is the important part —relative to objective criteria. In this case, the Airman Certification Standards and their score on the FAA Private Pilot Knowledge Test. 

This applicant scored an 82 on the knowledge test and scoffed that anything over 70 was overkill. 

It became apparent rather quickly that he may have known the information once, but he couldn’t give it back to me when I asked questions about aircraft systems, weather, and airspace—all the areas he had been shown “deficient” on the knowledge test.

This applicant was lucky in that his instructor knew he had soft spots that needed to be eliminated before the check ride. Some instructors don’t see them, and I maintain a subset of the Dunning-Kruger effect is when the recommending instructor overestimates the learner’s abilities. 

This happened to an acquaintance of mine who had a private pilot applicant fail during the oral part of the check ride due to inadequate knowledge of aircraft systems. The CFI had been teaching a 10-week private pilot ground school at a local community college and the learner was in the class. The learner passed the class with an “A,” so the CFI thought he knew the material. 

Neither the CFI nor the applicant were prepared for the failure. There were other similar failures from the class. A little bit of sleuthing revealed the structure of the program was to teach to the tests. The message was to memorize the answers and pass. This looked good on their transcripts, as it was a two-year program and many of the students went on to four-year institutions, but this lack of knowledge left them woefully unprepared for the cockpit.

How You Study Is Important

Studying for the check ride can be overwhelming, especially when it comes to organizing the materials.

The fine folks at Aviation Supplies & Academics (ASA) have been doing this for decades with their oral exam guides. If the test involves an oral exam, ASA has a study guide for it, be it for flight ratings, aircraft dispatching, aircraft mechanic, or studying for your flight review.

For 30 years many of the ASA oral exam guides were written by recently retired Michael Hayes (respectful pause), who, through his concise and informative prose, helped thousands of pilots earn their certificates. The latest edition of the Commercial Pilot Oral Exam Guide appeared with a new author—none other than Jason Blair, an active flight instructor,  FAA designated pilot examiner, and a regular contributor to FLYING.

I have been using these books for years, both for my own study and to prepare my applicants for their tests. Full disclosure: When the newest editions are released, I go through them, cover to cover, just to make sure I am up to speed on what I am teaching. The ASA Commercial Pilot Oral Exam Guide is in its 11th edition, and I’ve been reading it to refresh and recharge my knowledge.

If you have never used one of these study guides, here is the skinny. The books are organized by subject matter: FARs, aircraft systems, weather, etc., making it easier to focus on knowledge areas that the learner is having trouble with. The material is presented in a  Q&A format. For example: “What is the difference between a de-ice system and an anti-ice system?” Answer: De-ice is used to eliminate ice that has already formed, while anti-ice is used to prevent the formation of ice. 

Scenarios are used for the most in-depth questions.

• READ MORE: Making the Most of a Ground Lesson

Although many learners don’t pick up a copy of the oral exam guide until just before check ride, you may find it useful earlier in your training as it helps to determine the depth of the knowledge required. This is especially good if you have a tendency to study minutia or have not enjoyed the benefit of working with a CFI with strong ground instruction skills.

The FAA reference for where to find the information is also listed.  I like this part the best, because when the examiner asks the learner where they found the information, you want them to be able to refer to a published FAA-vetted resource. Never ever, and I mean ever, reply, “My instructor told me.” That’s like comparing a spouse to that person you had a fling with in college. Just don’t do it.

The post Use Study Guides for a Better Check Ride Experience appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Very often these events are the result of the pilot being behind the airplane or flying by rote—My instructor told me to land with full flaps, and I forgot, but here I am on short final, so I will dump them in, although the aircraft is low, according to the PAPI lights.

Every pilot goes through this learning curve. It can be addressed by focusing on the procedures for the pattern practiced away from the pattern, and at a high altitude, there is room to recover if a stall occurs.

Begin with the Checklist

Good checklist application should begin from the first lesson and the preflight inspection. The CFI can model this behavior. It is not uncommon for a new learner to ask why a checklist is used. 

I watched one of my airport sons turned CFI working with a learner—his grandfather had helped train me—checklist in hand, and I was pleased to see son using it with his learner. When the learner asked why he “still had to use a checklist” if he had been flying for so many years, son tossed me a look as he said, “Because I have had good training.”

Checklists for Maneuvers

There are checklists for preflight inspection, engine start, taxi, and run-up. Then, when it is time for takeoff, the checklist is often dropped, and on one occasion, tossed in the back seat by the learner who said he wouldn’t need it for laps in the pattern or out in the practice area. Wrong.

In the practice area, the pre-maneuver checklist should be used because a rushed or poor setup—not unlike a poor pattern—will likely result in a poorly executed maneuver.

I witnessed this when working with a new-hire CFI. He was asked to demonstrate slow flight. After the clearing turns, he slowed the Cessna 172 into the white arc then dumped the flaps in all at once, resulting in a dramatic nose-up pitch, followed by a rough power-off stall and  equally rough recovery from stall.

I pointed out the procedure checklist used by the school to teach slow flight indicated flaps should be added incrementally, and the learner’s attention called to the fact they were losing airspeed and needed to adjust trim and power to hold altitude and avoid a stall during slow flight. He replied, “My way saves time.” “Your way doesn’t teach slow flight,” I countered, which was the lesson objective.

For reasons I have yet to fathom, he thought every time the learner performed the task they would have to read it off the maneuvers checklist, then perform the task. Read the next line, then perform a task. This was puzzling as at the top of each page on the checklist was the caveat, “Maneuvers should be memorized before check ride.”

A bit of sleuthing revealed he had never been exposed to a maneuvers checklist before. This was of great concern to the airline pilot who was part owner of the school. He advised the CFIs that at the airlines, “You don’t even scratch your nose without referring to a checklist.”

• READ MORE: Make the Most of the Checklist

Study the Maneuvers Checklist

Before each flight, study the maneuvers checklist. Note the airspeed targets and aircraft configuration. Not only does it make your setup for maneuvers smoother, getting into this habit can help you stay ahead of the airplane in the traffic pattern, when things can get fast and furious.

Pattern Procedures

Most flight lessons that begin by heading out to the practice area terminate with a few laps in the pattern. Setting up for the pattern should begin before departing the practice area as the pilot in command (PIC) checks the weather and determines which runway is in use.

I am not a fan of diving down to pattern altitude while still in the practice area unless there is a darn good reason—like avoiding a shelf of airspace or hostile clouds—because 1,000 feet agl doesn’t give you a lot of time to react should you have an uncommanded loss of engine power. 

Instead, focus on a controlled descent—300 fpm, for example. I always ask my learners when we will be at pattern altitude—over what landmark? We stress being established at pattern altitude on the 45-degree leg to the pattern. As we enter this leg, the learner verbalizes the prelanding checklist, or GUMPS: gas, undercarriage, mixture, primer or pump, and safety items— seat belts and lights. Even if you are flying an aircraft with fixed gear, get into the habit of looking at the tire and verbalizing “gear down and locked.”

Every time there is an aircraft configuration change, be it adjusting power or lowering flaps, the learners verbalize “pitch, power, trim” as they perform the action.

Airspeeds are called out. As most of them want careers as professional pilots, our students might as well get used to it. I started using the callout “white arc confirmed” after another CFI had a learner who dumped the flaps outside the white arc and damaged them.

It is critical to monitor the airspeed on downwind, as this is the longest leg in the pattern and gives you the most time to make adjustments. If you are in a twin or flying a high-performance single and sharing the pattern with slower aircraft, you will likely reduce power right after turning from crosswind to downwind so you do not crowd them. If you can’t get your aircraft slowed down by the time you are abeam the numbers, depart the pattern and reenter on the 45.

You don’t want to be chasing your own airplane as you roll on the base turn, adding extra flaps and jockeying the throttle, because when you go outside normal procedures, that is when mistakes happen.

The base-to-final turn has a lot of variables. You need to be at the correct altitude, airspeed, and aircraft configuration. Timing this turn is like throwing a pass to a wide receiver in football. You want to time it. Don’t rush it and get uncoordinated—nor do you want to have such a shallow turn that you overshoot. I like to practice descending turns up at altitude, so in case we do have a stall, we can recover.

Rolling onto final, call your landing spot. Will you land on the numbers? The second centerline stripe?

Triple-check your landing gear: “Final clear, check the gear,” as FLYING editor-in-chief/CFI Julie Boatman likes to say. Every. Single. Time. Retract or not.

Make sure the aircraft configuration, especially the airspeed, supports the choice of spot. If not, go around. Never try to “salvage” a poor approach or bounced landing unless it is an emergency.

When you touch down, please, please, please do not push the yoke forward or slam on the brakes.

Different Airplane, Different Procedures

Be very careful about negative transference—that is, doing the correct procedure for one airplane in the wrong airplane. We all do it at least once. It can happen subtly. You are used to flying a Cessna 182, which requires 20 degrees of flaps for a short-field takeoff, but that day you are flying a Cessna 172, which only requires 10 degrees of flaps.

If you are a CFI and fly several airplanes, you may find it handy to create a cheat sheet for each airplane that contains their numbers and procedural quirks. For example, one handles better with a power setting of 1,500 rpm, another 1,600, although they are both Cessna 172s. I wrote out personal notes for myself on 3-by-5 index cards and carried them in a pouch on a lanyard around my neck. I referred to them before each flight.

I told the learners this was like knowing which one of the kids I was babysitting was allergic to dairy, so I didn’t accidentally poison them.

As the learner gets close to first solo, many instructors make it a rule that unless the approach is perfect, the learner will have to go around. Be careful with this as often the learner will try to force the airplane down on the third attempt, which, according to the FAA, is often when accidents take place.

Go around again and focus on the fourth attempt or have the CFI fly it with the learner talking them through the process and performing all radio calls. This gives the learner a chance to rest and really tests their knowledge as they are required to teach it back to the instructor.

There’s a reason we do so many laps in the pattern during training. There’s a lot going on. Practicing and following these procedures helps you stay ahead of the airplane. When you do the same thing pretty much every time—making slight corrections as warranted—you will have good approaches and landings.

In this way flying is a lot like cooking: Follow the recipe, and you’ll get great results.

The post Procedures for Stable Approaches appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

The CFI was new to the craft. He told the chief that the learner’s medical certificate had the limitation “night flying prohibited” printed on it. The CFI interpreted this to mean the learner was not allowed to fly after dark, and he didn’t want to risk his certificate by flying with the learner after sundown.

The learner had a color vision challenge, and the aviation medical examiner added the limitation to his medical certificate to reflect this. The learner said it was his understanding that his color vision might make night flight challenging, which was why he couldn’t be the pilot in command (PIC) at night, but he was still required to do the training, not only to satisfy the requirements for the certificate, but also to prepare him just in case he was caught out after dark. He was correct.

The training could take place because the instructor is PIC on dual instructional flights. The task became how to provide the best instruction for this particular learner while meeting the requirements.

Training for Night Flight

Training for night flight usually begins with a review of the challenges, such as reduced visual acuity, reduced depth perception, inability to see clouds, and understanding the required lighting for both outside and inside the cockpit.

Learners know they will need a flashlight for the lesson. I recommend one with a white light for doing the preflight inspection if it is after dark and one with a colored lens—red, blue, green or amber—for in the cockpit. I remind them the light on their smartphone won’t work in the cockpit because it is white light that destroys your night vision for 30 minutes (or more) after exposure.

• READ MORE: Scenarios for Training

When Does Night Begin?

FAR 1.1 defines night as the “time between the end of evening civil twilight and the beginning of morning civil twilight, as published in the Air Almanac, converted to local time.”

Note the time of sunset locally because nav lights are required between sunset and sunrise, and we can start logging night experience one hour after sunset to one hour before sunrise—used for night currency and carrying passengers. One popular way to ease the learner into the world of night flight is to take off just before sunset, so they can watch how the scenery changes and their eyes adjust.

The color-challenged learner found it very useful to note the roads adjacent to the local airports that helped him spot the rotating beacons and then the runways. The learner noted that he was glad to have the training “just in case,” but he planned to take care to make sure he was back on the ground an hour before sunset.

Three Hours of Instrument Training

The three hours of flight by reference to instruments only is another one of those ”just-in-case” requirements for private pilots. Yet there are those learners who balk at this training, saying they will only fly on good weather days, therefore, they don’t need it. Famous last words. The accident reports at NTSB.gov are filled with VFR into IMC situations. I bet those pilots didn’t intend to fly into bad weather—but it happened.

The three hours under the view-limiting device should be done gradually, as instrument flying can be very mentally fatiguing—especially at first. The concept of scan, cross-check, and instrument interpretation is best introduced in bite-sized chunks. I suggest not more than 10 minutes of hood time during the flight when it is introduced, as the learners grasp the use of the attitude indicator, heading indicator, altimeter, etc. Each subsequent flight will include more hood time focusing on climbs, turns, descents, and basic navigation. It’s very easy to fly visually, then put the learner under the hood for a few minutes, then return to visual flight. 

Keep in mind that IMC doesn’t just come from clouds. One summer there was a sudden onset of a smoke event caused by a wildfire in Seattle. Although the reported weather at the airport was VFR, a savvy flight instructor obtained an IFR clearance and taught a private pilot candidate to fly the RNAV into the home airport under the hood because, frankly, although the AWOS was reporting 4 to 6 miles from the air, it was “deceptively crappy” as my former chief used to say.

Often experiences like this lead to the learner pursuing an instrument rating, keeping in mind the most important skill for a noninstrument-rated pilot to have is the ability to read a weather report and correctly interpret the information.

The post Three Hours of Just-in-Case Training Is Required appeared first on FLYING Magazine.