The problem is, those retracted wheels eventually have to be extended, in order to taxi to the ramp unaided. And pilots, being creative in their ability to ignore warnings and signals sent by the airplane, will find ways to land with the gear up. The increased maintenance and risk of loss associated with flying with “limber legs” were always present. Insurers, mechanics, and lenders began discouraging a later generation of pilots from buying such complex airplanes. Accordingly, Cirrus and other next-gen manufacturers have built fast singles with the gear firmly fixed in place.

However, many of the retractable-gear Beech, Cessna, Mooney, and Piper legacy fleet is still around, able to be purchased by new owners, and it behooves us to periodically revisit the cautions and techniques needed to operate them without incident. The FAA merely requires a logbook endorsement attesting to proficiency in operating one type of complex airplane; further training in other retractables is at the discretion of the pilot. 

You must avoid such laid-back transitions.

Study how the landing gear system works in any retractable-gear airplane you’re going to fly, what to do if it malfunctions, and what maintenance is required to keep it in tip-top shape. Get through training from knowledgeable instructors familiar with that type of aircraft, not just a few trips around the pattern but coverage of the plane’s limitations and requirements in all phases of flight.

When it comes to avoiding unintentional gear-up landings, make sure you understand how the airplane acts when it’s being forced to approach the ground without wheels. Yes, all retractable-gear planes were built with gear-up warnings that activate when power or speed is reduced with wheels retracted. Those can malfunction, or be masked behind the stress of passenger or ATC interaction.

What won’t malfunction is the airplane’s unnatural buoyancy in the absence of drag from the extended gear. If you’re reducing power to idle when a normal approach requires several inches of manifold pressure, you may be trying to land gear-up. If the airspeed remains fast as you roll out onto final, it may be because the wheels are still stowed. Listen to what your retractable-gear steed is telling you.

Checklists or GUMP rituals are fine, but make sure you’ve actually “done” the list, not just read it. I follow two rigid procedures to avoid landing gear-up. First, I never descend below normal traffic pattern altitude without assuring that the gear is down. You may think you moved the switch or handle, but did it really actuate, confirmed by indications and feel of the aircraft? Second, I always do a short-final check, when the approaching runway numbers are visible—gear-down, stabilized, cleared to land.

Flying retractable-gear airplanes is still a worthwhile endeavor, but it does require another element of risk management. Keep the gear system in tip-top shape, keep your skill at handling the extra piloting chores sharp, and never ignore the possibility that you missed that vital gear extension.

The post Gear Down Before You Go Down appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

“Ed,” I said, “ya gotta take smaller cuts at this carving you’re trying to make. Two-hundred foot deviations won’t satisfy the check ride requirements.” The problem was, we were flying in continuous light, occasionally moderate, turbulence, and the airplane wouldn’t stay still for more than a second or two.

With well-earned empathy, I could recall many times being in his seat, struggling to keep an airplane in bounds. I knew what he was going through, the frustration of feeling “I’m never going to get this.” Flying with precision is tough enough when you’re your own worst enemy, overcontrolling in an attempt to drive the airplane down a straight path. Add in turbulent air and the frustration triples.

We know what perfect performance is supposed to look like, but we can’t make it happen.

I took the controls and demonstrated how to dampen out some of the bumps, explaining as I went. “Let’s just bracket the entry altitude for now, keeping it within 50 feet plus or minus. But don’t focus on the altimeter reading; by the time you see a deviation happening, the airplane’s already on its way to further deflection. You see, the pitch attitude is where the first change takes place, then the altimeter reading moves, and finally the rate-of-climb goes up or down.”

Precision results from making small, early corrections, not easy to do when you’re bouncing like a leaf in the gale. Nevertheless, the basic theorem of flying still holds true: Power Plus Attitude Equals Performance. Set the power needed for the maneuver, place, and hold, the aircraft’s attitude where it should be, and you’ll stabilize on the desired result. Until, that is, unstable air upsets your applecart.

Chasing needles, or glass-panel tape presentations, won’t work. Following a course deviation indicator that refuses to stay centered in rough air doesn’t mean watching CDI movement and reacting; it’s the heading indicator that brings the course reading into alignment, and the heading is held steady by rock-solid wings-level flight.

Okay, bouncing air takes you off your heading; put it back, using minimal bank and a brief jab of rudder. Small, constant corrections, done early, yield better results than a swinging swordfight.

Airspeed control, particularly during approach and departure phases of flight, similarly requires attitude and, in some cases, power adjustment, if the air isn’t stable. Airplanes with fixed-pitch propellers are particularly vulnerable to rough-air upset; when sucked earthward by a downdraft, the pilot will naturally yank the nose up, and shove forward when boosted by an updraft. But rpm will sag and surge as a result, so both pitch and power need adjustment. Just don’t forget where the neutral parameters are, when the air turns smooth, so you don’t destabilize.

Much of the time, in light turbulence, the airplane just needs a little help from actively-participating hands and feet on the controls. I brace my feet on the rudder pedals to hold the nose from swinging, and if a wing goes up or down, some use of opposite rudder will help it come back to level on its own. Roll control should be reserved for big deviations.

Ed finally got the performance he wanted, by watching the horizon in his windshield and keeping it steady, in spite of the pounding from the turbulence. I used the checklist to cover up his horizon and altitude indicators, forcing him to concentrate on basic outside attitude, and he was amazed that it could be done that way. The performance instruments, I said, are tools for grading our flying.

Even when the air isn’t nice.

The post Flying Precise When It Isn’t Nice appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Ahead of us some 1,000 feet down the runway there was a bald eagle standing on the centerline, scarfing down the carcass of what looked like a large white rabbit. We brought the aircraft to a stop as the bird stopped its feeding frenzy and hopped toward us, spreading its wings and obviously saying, “Come at me, bro!” in eagle.  

We had three choices: We could try to scare the bird away by heading toward it and run over the carcass in the process, go off the runway to the side and take our chances in the grass area that needed mowing, or we could do a 180-degree turn and taxi back. I chose door number three and in taking the aircraft demonstrated the pivot turn to the learner.   

As he taxied us back to the ramp, I got on the unicom and reported that there was an eagle parked on the runway. That brought out the airport manager with his truck and big shovel. He scared off the bird by waving the tool, then picked up the remains of the white rabbit and flung it into the woods on the east side of the airport. The eagle flew after the carcass. Within 10 minutes there was a warning on the one-minute weather about wildlife in the vicinity of the airport.   

The airport manager later told me that as it was May and the carcass was that of a white domesticated rabbit and figured it was a pet Easter bunny that had been dumped. Sadly, this happens a lot and pretty much condemns the animal to death. He also noted that there is no such thing as one rabbit, suggesting the abandoned pet was pregnant when it was left and likely mixed with the wild population, resulting in more rabbits. Their presence attracts the higher predators such as coyotes and eagles—two animals you definitely don’t want to hit with an aircraft. He was right. In the following weeks, there was an uptick in coyote and eagle encounters at the airport.  

One of the most frequently asked questions is how much trouble would a pilot be in if they accidentally hit a bald eagle—or any animal for that matter. The answer is none. However, the FAA has provided us with guidance with Advisory Circular (AC) 150/5200-32B.   

According to the AC, pilots are asked to report encounters with all birds, bats, and terrestrial mammals larger than 2.2 pounds. That means if you hit a rabbit, muskrat, armadillo, fox, coyote, domestic animal, deer or something else with hooves, the FAA wants to know about it because it helps the agency create wildlife management plans to make airports safer.   

Additionally, biologists want to know about these things because it can help them track migratory patterns.  

An increase in animal activity at an airport can also be a clue that there is something else happening on the property.  

For example, when deer and elk started appearing en masse on the north end of the airport, the manager realized there was likely a hole in the fence against the tree line. There were thick trees on both sides of the fence, so getting to it involved making your way through a lot of slash and uneven terrain. But someone did it and had cut the chain-link fence intentionally.  

Based on the tire tracks that appeared to be from ATVs—and the number of hangars that were broken into—it was suggested that someone was accessing the airport to steal tools and anything else they could sell for scrap metal. 

If You Hit an Animal

The AC has instructions on how to file a report and with whom. Pilots are asked to do this when “bird or other wildlife remains, whether in whole or in part, are found: (1) Within 250 feet of a runway centerline or within 1,000 feet of a runway end unless another reason for the animal’s death is identified or suspected.”  

In addition, the FAA wants to know about it if “the presence of birds or other wildlife on or off the airport had a significant negative effect on a flight,” such as forcing the pilot to abort takeoff or the aircraft leaving the pavement to avoid a collision.   

You can report the event online at the Airport Wildlife Hazard Mitigation website or via mobile devices.

The Worst Thing to Hit

According to the AC, the animal encounters that are likely to result in the most damage are  white-tailed deer, snow goose, turkey vultures and Canada geese.   

I have encountered all of these, fortunately from a distance. Mostly we have geese in the Pacific Northwest, and airports invest a lot of time and money into methods to deter the birds from roosting there. This includes noise cannons, using an airport dog to chase them away, or having someone drive around in a golf cart to chase them away.  

There are some airports that disguise ponds on their property by filling them with black or gray plastic balls (think the ball pit at a kid’s amusement center). From the air the birds see the black and gray and assume that it is cement, not water, so they do not land.  

If you see a gaggle of geese near the runway, notify airport personnel before you take off or land. The staff will likely chase them off before you take the runway. Bonus note: If you land at an airport and see plywood dogs mounted on revolving poles in the airport grass infield, that’s a good indication they have bird issues. Birds see the faux dogs moving in the wind and avoid the area.  

Avoiding Birds

You can decrease your chances of having a bird strike by avoiding places they congregate, such as bird sanctuaries. Pay attention to the altitude restrictions noted on the VFR sectional and terminal charts, especially along coastlines.   

Most birds fly at 2,500 feet or less, so flying higher than that can mitigate your risk. Be careful with flocks of starlings and seagulls as their numbers can create serious issues if you fly through them. If you see them on the ground, don’t buzz them. They will likely launch in a panic with disastrous results.  

Unfortunately, most of our knowledge about bird strike avoidance is theoretical and anecdotal. Some pilots believe that turning on the landing light will deter birds because they will see and avoid the aircraft.  

If you see a bird approaching head-on, pull up, being careful not to stall the aircraft. The birds often dive to avoid aircraft—so do bats. But sometimes you just don’t have the time to react. I speak from experience.  

I was flying with a learner on downwind at an altitude of 1,000 feet agl when we saw a red-tailed hawk heading right for us. It had descended into the pattern, and it was going the opposite direction. It had its belly toward us, and it was flapping wildly. There was a thump, followed by a shudder in the airframe, and we felt and heard something roll over the top of the aircraft. I took the controls and gingerly tested the rudder and elevator while my learner looked outside for damage. We didn’t see any, and the landing was normal. After landing we discovered a small dent, and some blood and feathers stuck to the top wing next to the air vent.  

We had noted where the strike took place, including the altitude and our airspeed at the time of impact. This information was used to fill out the FAA Bird/Wildlife Strike Report.   

We were lucky because we were not going too fast, and the bird did not hit the windscreen. The higher the speed, the greater risk of structural damage. GA aircraft windscreens are definitely not designed to withstand bird strikes.  

The most important thing to remember if you encounter a bird strike is to fly the airplane. Pilots who have experienced bird strikes that resulted in significant damage tell stories of the aircraft “flying a little wonky” because of a big dent in the wing or tail and having trouble maintaining altitude if the windscreen is compromised.  

But they lived to tell the story. That’s what’s important.

The post Avoiding and Surviving Bird Strikes appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

That said, you have lots of opportunities for making “first solo” flights, including ones taken not by choice but by necessity. Some are the ones we make in single-seat airplanes. Taking off in an airplane with no way to “get some dual,” or even to ride along to observe, is an awesome experience. It can not be undertaken without preparation, because you have to get it right the first time. Once you’re in the air, there’s no way to get help.

I well remember my first experience in this regard. The airplane was a Stits Playboy, a sporty low-wing homebuilt with an O-290 Lycoming up front. Before I took off, the previous pilot leaned over the side of the canopied cockpit and pointed out the relevant controls and switches, told me a safe speed to use on final, and turned me loose to learn on my own. I had plenty of experience with control sticks and tailwheels, so I just filled in the new blanks presented by the little Stits.

• READ MORE: Are Touch-and-Goes Good Practice?

During World War II the 200-hour wonders who strapped themselves into single-seat fighters were prepared about as well as they could be. They were products of a system that saw them begin with plenty of dual in tandem primary trainers, followed by advancing into more powerful basic trainers and then progressing into challenging advanced trainers. All of these machines had the student sitting in the center of a cockpit set up for one person, with a joystick in the right hand and throttle in the left, a tailwheel rolling along behind. The one-seat P-40s they eventually flew on their own were just more of the same.

Key to the process was adherence to procedures, worked out to minimize hazardous unknowns, and lots of study and classroom work, so the transitioning pilots would thoroughly understand the progressively more complex systems they were tackling. Experienced individuals would stand on the wingwalk and work the novices through their checklists until it became second nature, perhaps even blindfolded to prove they could find the required items quickly.

Getting as Close as You Can

As I flew other single-seat airplanes, I always tried to avail myself of as much knowledge as I could in advance by reading the flight manual and limitations, asking questions of my predecessors, and just sitting in the cockpit to become familiar with the setup. Sometimes it’s possible to get time in a similar two-seat airplane, which is how I approached the Cessna AGwagon spray plane. The Cessna 185 is a close approximation, and even though I had considerable previous time in Cessna 180s and 170s, I first went up in the Skywagon with an ag pilot for a little review.

Most spray planes have familial resemblance to two-place siblings, like Piper’s Pawnee and the Super Cub. On the other hand, Dean Wilson’s long-winged Eagle ag plane had no two-seat approximation, but I had flown other biplanes and had no problem adjusting to its size and seating. The DW-1 was built to be work-all-day friendly, so it held no surprises other than the spoiler-assisted method of making tight turnarounds.

The ultimate in getting prepared was being checked out in the Bede BD-5 homebuilt. The Bede folks had a “Truck-a-Plane” engineless BD-5 at the factory, rigged up on an articulated frame attached to the front of a hot rod pickup truck. Pushed down the runway in it at flying speed, one could practice liftoffs and touchdowns, and feel out the ailerons and rudder response. To learn how the landing gear operated, they just picked up a BD-5 and sat it on sawhorses shoved under the wings. You could then climb aboard and find out how to work the gear lever without jiggling the joystick in your other hand.

The point is, if you’re compelled to fly a single-seater, get as much knowledge as possible and work up to it through flying dual in similar aircraft. Of the couple of dozen one-holers I’ve flown, all were approached with careful progression through close approximations.

Solo Without a Checkout

In a similar vein, there may be times when you will be called upon to fly an aircraft with multiple seats but without the benefit of a formal checkout flight. That can be about as much of a “solo flight” as those single-seat experiences. As a ferry pilot, a lot of the planes I’ve picked up were simply left sitting in a hangar or tie-down, waiting for me to deliver it elsewhere. One quickly learns to rely on nothing in the way of installed equipment, despite assurances that “it’s ready to go.” In the first hour or two of the trip, you verify what you have and don’t have.

I once was engaged to ferry an aged Cessna 170A, and I soon learned it had no generator output. Eager to get it home, I obtained a NAPA battery charger and plugged it in at every fuel stop, juicing up the battery so I would have a starter and radios for the departure. In the middle of my final leg, I finally found a hidden unmarked switch under the dash that, when actuated, turned on the generator. Lesson learned.

Labels, even when installed, don’t always mean what they say. Tasked with taking an imported German motor glider out to the West Coast, I received a telephone checkout from the pilot who had brought it partway, mostly describing the quirks of its VW-based Limbach engine and three-position propeller pitch. When I tried to start it, the engine refused to fire. It turned out the fuel cock said “auf” when the gas was on, which turned out to be German for “on.” The label was correct—it was the pilot who was deficient.

• READ MORE: Effective Braking Techniques

When alone in the cockpit, it is doubly important to take every precaution to learn how to operate the systems because your only resource is what you bring to the party. Never assume “it’s just another airplane.” That may be true, but operating characteristics vary from one model to another. Late one afternoon, I arrived via a delayed airline flight to pick up a Piper Arrow that needed to be repositioned across the state. I had planned on being home well before sundown, but by the time I was finally deposited onto the Arrow’s ramp, the day was far advanced. With no RON (remain overnight) kit or flashlight, I fired up in the waning twilight and blasted off. Once underway, it occurred to me I really needed to turn on the panel lights, and none of my fumbling with the switch panel found success. Cell phone flashlights hadn’t been invented yet.

Finally, I recalled the stylish panel of 1970s-era Pipers utilized rolling rheostat switches beside the rocker switches, one of which turns on the instrument lighting. Panic subsided when I brought the darkened cockpit to well-lit life. The issue was my mission-focused urgency to get into the air without taking time to review the flight manual’s operating details of an airplane type I hadn’t flown in years.

Whether flying in a single-seat aircraft or alone in a multiseat cockpit, the responsibility of being pilot in command is the same. You are making a solo flight, and it’s up to you to do all the CRM (crew resource management) required to assure safety of the flight. Free of the distraction posed by having company, you should be able to do an even better job of single-pilot CRM. Instead, we often take the freedom of flying solo as a chance to ignore our duties.

There’s Always a First Time

There will be many first solo flights in your career beyond that one at the beginning of your life as a pilot. It may be the first time you climb into a cloud deck after attaining your instrument rating or the first time you bring up the landing gear of a retractable-gear airplane. Pushing the throttles of a twin-engine airplane forward on takeoff for the first time as the captain is never to be forgotten. Doing your first aileron roll or loop with no aerobatic instructor on board is a satisfying first solo as well. I will never forget that first tow release when being turned loose to fly solo in the club’s glider. Getting it back to the gliderport after hunting lift was now my responsibility entirely. Docking a seaplane on my own, without banging a float or missing the right spot to cut the engine, was another first that went into the favorite memory storehouse.

The point is, there will be plenty of first solos for us to remember as we pursue our aviation dreams. Treasure them all—big and small. 

Editor’s Note: This story originally appeared in the November/December 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot magazine. 

The post Multiple ‘First Solo’ Flights appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

The concept of performing “circuits and bumps,” aka touch-and-goes, was developed to save time during landing practice by eliminating the taxiing portion of a full landing-and-takeoff regimen. In the case of the Boeing, the brakes would be hot at the end of a full-stop landing, perhaps leaving the aircraft unable to handle a rejected takeoff if necessary.

Many flight schools at busy airports are forced to teach with touch-and-goes because exiting the runway means joining the queue and waiting for a break in traffic to take off again. The only full-stop landing comes at the end of the training session unless a trip is made to a nearby quiet airport.

It’s probably better to teach primary students full-stop landings, leaving touch-and-goes for advanced and recurrent training with pilots who have already learned the basics of flying. By experiencing the entire sequence of decelerating to taxi speed, then starting out from a dead stop to experience a complete takeoff, a beginning student becomes more familiar with transitioning between taxiing and flying, requiring fewer landings to acquire proficiency. As long as the taxi-back and departure takes only a minute or two, the time on the ground gives the instructor a moment to critique and teach while the student is less occupied with controlling the airplane.

• READ MORE: In Defense of Young Instructors

Thus, touch-and-goes are necessary but less desirable for initial learning if it’s possible to avoid them. In the cases of commercial pilot training, instrument approach practice, multiengine transition, or checkouts in a new type of plane, there’s no reason not to do touch-and-goes if done properly.

The decision to make the landing a touch-and-go should come in advance, unless required to avoid a hazard. Planning for the touch-and-go means allowing plenty of remaining runway for the run to liftoff and obstacle clearance. Don’t do touch-and-goes on a runway offering less than twice the distance needed for normal operations. Be prepared to make a full-stop landing in case the flaps fail to retract or an engine doesn’t respond.

The mental setup is to expect to have the wheels planted on the pavement within the first 500 feet, then retract flaps (not the landing gear!) to the normal takeoff setting. The nosewheel can be kept airborne or allowed to touch down in a normal manner, depending on the airplane’s proclivities. Apply takeoff power as soon as the flaps are confirmed in motion, establish liftoff attitude at the airspeed used for normal takeoffs, and retrim to a takeoff setting without taking your eyes off the runway. Climb out following the usual departure profile. If at a nontowered airport, make an advisory call like “going around on Runway 6, staying in the pattern” after establishing a stable climb. Saying “on the go” is a little Top-Gunnish.

There’s nothing wrong with a touch-and-go if done correctly and in the right place. Eventually, of course, we’ll always do a full stop.

The post Are Touch-and-Goes Good Practice? appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Is it really all that bad? Are most flight instructors wet behind the ears, riding with student pilots to build hours on a fast track to an airline seat?

Are we truly in a cycle of the blind leading the blind, staffed by beginner CFIs now training students after they were themselves taught by young instructors with limited experience? 

I don’t necessarily agree with all the woe-is-us, doom-and-gloom assessments. I started teaching primary flying when I’d been a pilot for only a bit over four years. In that time, I’d accumulated a few hundred hours of flying time, made some venturesome trips, flown a dozen different planes and picked up some wisdom from older aviators. I knew quite a bit more than the ab initio beginners I introduced to flying, and I was willing to share it with them. I think I did a decent job.

It’s unfair to apply a coat of tar to all young CFIs with the broad brush of exalted experience. The fact is, their youth, in the sense of only recently becoming rated, can bequeath certain advantages. Such an instructor can still remember what it was like to enter a cockpit filled with unfamiliar gadgetry titled by strange names, and how fear and physical discomfort sometimes interfered with the wonderment of flight. Such empathy lends itself to reassuring “I know what you’re thinking” conversations.

The just-trained CFI is more likely to be up to date on the latest procedures and requirements, having just taken several check rides in recent memory. Compared with an old set-in-his-ways senior instructor,  that youngster is more likely to know how it’s supposed to be done. Without the hampering of irrelevant experience, such a fresh-face instructor can focus on the way things have to be done today.

Certainly, it’s highly worthwhile to have an experienced instructor evaluate the tyro CFI’s product now and then. That doesn’t mean all the training done by less-experienced CFIs is of lesser quality; a second opinion simply reinforces those hours. After all, to teach, I was once told, the teacher just has to be one chapter ahead of the student.

The important ingredient that’s often missing in today’s mixture is a desire by the CFI to do the best job they can, while they have that opportunity to instill knowledge. If their main motivation is to watch the hour-meter click over, advancing their hire-ability, there will indeed be nothing but box-checking accomplished. Throughout my several careers, I’ve always tried to be the best I could be at whatever I was hired to do, even if that was nothing more than showing up on time. As a CFI, I wanted to advance each student’s knowledge to match my own, sharing what I already knew.

So, if the young CFI has a sincere desire to help someone achieve their dream of flight, and is willing to learn from older instructors and pilots, he or she will produce as good a pilot graduate as an older CFI. It’s not fair to write them off as incompetent just because haven’t logged the first thousand hours.

The post In Defense of Young Instructors appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

The conference highlights included briefings from FAA staff on upcoming regulatory changes that may affect flight training, from TSA staff regarding the health and volume of training for international students, and specifically from FAA reps in the aero medical focal area. The FAA is working to modernize how it manages behavioral health reporting, approvals for return to flight for pilots who report and seek appropriate treatment, and safety concerns related to behavioral trends in the pilot community.

Discussions also included consideration of future technology integration into the entire aviation sector but also specifically the aviation training landscape. With exciting and unique technologies on the near horizon, some of the speakers and discussions hinted at what may be coming soon to implement technologies in aviation training.

“We are excited to continue the growth of this conference, the communication it drives between all participants, and the importance of sharing of information it facilitates to improve flight training services in the entire system,” said FSANA CEO and president Robert Rockmaker.

FSANA is already beginning to plan for the 2025 conference that will take place in Orlando, Florida, next February. If you are a participant in the flight training sector, keep an eye out for more information on the next event.

The post FSANA Conducts Annual Flight School Operators Conference appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

50 Hours After Private Certification

An experienced CFI once told me: “They are at their sharpest when you sign them off.” I share this knowledge with my learners, and I caution them to work hard to maintain their skills. It is not uncommon for the private pilot—as they gain more hours and experience—to become more relaxed, and procedurally, they may start to get sloppy. It starts slowly. Maybe it’s forgetting to use the checklist during the preflight inspection or engine run-up. Or maybe it’s using the “look out the window” technique to check the weather.

For the pilots that don’t pursue additional certificates or fly on a regular basis, their skills and attention to detail may wane until just before their first flight review. That’s when they practice again with great intensity with the purpose to pass the review.

It can be alarming when they realize how much their skills and knowledge have degraded. I encourage these pilots to make a list of their soft spots and the things they want to work on and bring those to their flight review. You can’t fail a flight review, but you can practice things until both you and the CFI are satisfied you are flying to the level of your certificate.

Losing Your Landings

Sometimes working toward an additional certificate can create soft spots in other areas. For example, the learners’ procedural skills increase during their training for the instrument rating because they have to stay two steps ahead of the aircraft. However, their landings may suffer because most instrument approaches are practice approaches followed by missed approaches. You just don’t do as many landings for the instrument rating as you did for private pilot certification. Expect this, and take action to prevent it.

Set aside a few hours to focus on pattern work to keep from getting too rusty.

Failure to Practice Pilotage

If the pilot is enrolled in a Part 141 program, there is often a black hole where the learner needs to build hours to qualify for the commercial pilot certificate. The pilot often flies multiple cross-country flights usually to the same airports over and over again, often following the magenta line. Basic pilotage skills are lost. It can be especially challenging if the training organization limits where the learners fly to. When you fly to the same seven or eight airports, it is easy to see why some pilots burn out during this phase and start to zone out in the aircraft, often letting it arrive someplace well before their brain gets there.

Overconfidence Can Kill

Overconfidence can sneak up on any pilot. It often manifests as the “just because you can, doesn’t mean you should” syndrome, when a low-time, low-experience pilot tries to do something beyond their capabilities, like flying into the backcountry or doing a mountain crossing in an underpowered airplane. It can bite higher-time pilots as well, such as those with thousands of hours flying a turboprop or light twin who decide to attempt a cowboy maneuver like flying between buildings or doing a buzz job at an airport for sport.

Milestone Metrics

Reaching certain metrics, such as 500 or 1,000 hours, can also inspire a pilot to do something silly. If the majority of those hours are so-called junk hours—the same laps in the pattern at the same airport and no stretching of skills or practicing maneuvers or proficiency—they might as well not be in the logbook at all.

CFI Challenges

If the pilot is pursuing the flight instructor certificate, there will be a learning curve as they adjust to flying from the right seat. Once certification is acquired, their basic VFR skills may soften a bit because CFIs usually don’t do much of the flying beyond demonstration of a maneuver—especially landings. CFIs need to make time  to stay proficient.

Many CFIs, unless they have their instructor-instrument rating, will find their instrument procedures get rusty as well. CFIs are required to have an instrument rating, but it is very common for instructors to have their instrument skills become soft because they don’t have the time—or money—to practice instrument procedures. Some flight schools try to thwart this by giving their CFIs an allowance for proficiency flights.

When a CFI-rated pilot reaches 750 hours, this appears to be a time when they take more chances, sometimes with poor results. Why? It is pure conjecture, but it might be because the pilot, if a time builder, is at the halfway point to the minimum hourly requirement for the airline transport pilot certificate.

Pretty much every flight school has a story about the 700-hour-ish pilot that ran out of fuel, flew VFR into IMC, and got themselves in a situation with a learner, or took an airplane without permission at night to get some more hours. And the list goes on.

Tedium

For those building their hours as instructors, the 1,000-hour mark can be dangerous.

Although you’re keeping busy, training and endorsing  people for check rides, the road to 1,500 hours can seem very long, and it’s easy to get bored with teaching and burn out.

If you are a CFI and this is happening to you, please find a time-building program that is something other than teaching, because just going through the motions with learners isn’t fair to them—and might even be a little dangerous.

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared on flyingmag.com. 

The post When Are Pilots the Most Dangerous? appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

The fun flying continues until you realize that it has been a while since you practiced a skill—like stalls or steep turns—that you learned months, perhaps even years earlier, and you’re a bit fuzzy about the setup and recovery.

Or maybe you encountered a situation that taxed your skill set, like an attempted crosswind landing that took multiple attempts, or that practice instrument approach where you were so far behind the airplane that it landed five minutes before you did.

These are the times the prudent pilot seeks out dual instruction. A pilot’s desire for more training is often done as a confidence builder. You learned how to perform those tasks years ago, but without regular practice, they can get a bit rusty.

Recently I flew with a learner who has a great deal of cross-country flight experience, but very little of it involves towered airport operations. This is not uncommon, because the majority of airports in the U.S. are non-towered. The learner wanted to remedy that, and they asked me to come along wearing my CFI hat.

Tower communications can be intimidating. You have to fly the airplane, keep an eye out for traffic, and communicate effectively when there are dozens of pilots in the same airspace doing the same thing.

Tower communications usually begin with the enroute pilot listening to the weather. For the single-engine piston trainer, listening to the automated weather 10 miles out is a good plan because it allows you to stay ahead of the airplane. Make sure to get the automatic terminal information services (ATIS) designation if appropriate, and noting altimeter setting, winds, and runway in use along with any special items such as “caution, mowing operations in progress.” I am a big advocate of listening to it twice. On the first pass write it down, then listen at least once more to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

After you get the weather, switch to the tower frequency and note how busy it is. Don’t wait until you’re right on the edge of their airspace to call, especially if they are busy. It’s a good idea to consult the local VFR sectional as there may be a note such as, “Contact Approach within 20 nm.”

On initial call up, let the controller know your type of aircraft, tail number, where you are—including altitude—what your request is, and advise that you have the ATIS or weather. The controller may ask you to identify yourself by pushing the appropriate transponder button. They have the option to either accommodate your request or tell you to steer clear of the airspace—and yes, they can do that. Arguing with the tower controller isn’t going to change the situation, so don’t even try.

Be prepared to answer the controller’s questions, such as type of aircraft. There are a lot of Piper and Cessna models out there, both twin and single-engine. Sometimes you hear disturbing things on the radio, such as the pilot, when asked what his aircraft type was, replied “I don’t know, they gave it to me at the flight school.”

The First Call Up

Some airports have designated VFR reporting points. They are mentioned in the chart supplement and marked on the VFR terminal area chart with a magenta pennant. In some cases VFR departures and arrivals are printed on a panel of the chart. For example, “When arriving from the south stay below 1,500, contact Tower over the gravel pit.”

In our case the reporting point was over the Tacoma Dome. To the unfamiliar, it looks like an upside-down teacup next to Interstate 5. On this particular day, Information Papa was current, winds were 340 at 8 gusting to 17. Runway 35 in use. The altimeter setting was 30.04. Although we did not intend to land, the wind and runway in use were noted since that would help in spotting traffic. Look at the runway and then widen your gaze to the extended centerlines. That’s where the airport traffic will be.

We requested a transition of their airspace, east to the west.

The request was granted at or above 2,000 feet. Sometimes the controllers will tell you what part of the runway to cross over. Often it is the approach end of the runway in use because that’s where traffic is at its lowest altitude, or it can be at midfield.

We were instructed to cross at midfield, and it was a nonevent.

Following Instructions

The ability to follow instructions is critical for a pilot, but for the pilot who does not have much experience with getting vectors—that is an assigned heading and altitude— it can be confusing. For example, let’s say you are on a heading of 270 degrees and the controller instructs you to turn to a heading of 180 degrees. Do you turn left or right? According to air traffic controllers, the controller will state the direction of turn in the clearance—”Turn left to heading 180 degrees”—when it is necessary. You’re still responsible for making sure the area is clear before turning,

Sometimes, the controller will ask you to state your intentions. This can be one of those funny moments during training. How many of you have heard the “state your intentions” query answered with “I want to be a professional pilot” or something close to it? 

“State your intentions,” means the controller is asking what you want to do next. Leave the pattern? Full stop landing? Go missed approach? Be clear and concise when you answer. “Low approach followed by departure to the east,” tells them everything they need to know.

Practice Coordination

Away from the pattern out in the practice area, put yourself through some basic maneuvers, such as steep turns and standard rate turning, focusing on holding altitude and bank angle. If you haven’t done a steep turn in a while, don’t be surprised if the aircraft bobs up and down like a dolphin at feeding time. Practice managing upon power setting bank angle and trim. Practice power on and power off stalls, both immanent and full stall, in both straight ahead and in turning configuration.

First Pancake Syndrome

If it has been awhile since you flew in the pattern for multiple approaches, you will notice that each approach (up to a limit) gets better. This is often referred to as the ‘first pancake’ syndrome, as the first lap in the pattern, like the first pancake poured on the griddle, is a test of conditions, and adjustments will be made. On the first takeoff you drifted right and on final approach you were high. On the second lap around the pattern your takeoff and climb out were spot on because you adjusted for the crosswind. To deal with being high on final, you reduced engine power slightly earlier than the previous time and added a notch of flaps earlier. It is very satisfying to have each approach and landing get better with each trip around the pattern.

Practice What You Don’t Use

Practicing emergency procedures is like training for and practicing first aid and CPR. These are skills you hope you never, ever need to use, but if the situation presents itself you’re glad to have them. Power-off approaches to a landing, emergency spirals, pitching for best glide while your troubleshoot—all these should be reviewed.

Don’t forget to throw in some specialty takeoffs and landings, such as soft-field and short-field operations. It may have been months since you landed on grass, or perhaps the flight school you rent from prohibits landing on anything but pavement unless it’s an emergency. You still want to have those skills in your back pocket, and ready to go.

Editor’s note: This story first appeared on flyingmag.com.

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Skyborne Airline Academy is raising the bar—and pay—for its certificated flight instructors (CFIs), it announced this week during EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

The Vero Beach, Florida-based flight school said it is now offering pay from $37,000 to $43,600 per year, in addition to “premium pay,” which ranges from $44.50 to $69 per hour for certificated flight instructor-airplane (CFIA), certificated flight instructor instrument (CFII), certificated multiengine instructor (MEI), and check instructors after flying 58.3 hours a month.

• READ MORE: The Great CFI Lesson Plan Debate

CFIs will also have access to medical, dental, and vision benefits, an employee contribution 401(k) retirement plan with an employer match, and up to 18 days of paid time off and nine holidays each year, the school said.

News of the compensation package comes as school officials said they recognize the role CFIs play in meeting the surge in need for commercial pilots.

• READ MORE: Choosing the CFI Route

“Record numbers of passengers are now flying across the U.S., and at Skyborne Vero Beach we understand CFIs are crucial in nurturing and mentoring the next generation of aviators required,” Ed Davidson, managing director at Skyborne, said in a statement. “Our commitment to raising compensation for flight instructors reflects our dedication to those who teach and recognition of their expertise. Certified (sic) flight instructors with Skyborne will have the opportunity to advance their careers as program managers or continue their teaching journey as standardization instructors or check flight instructors, which enables them to lead the way in developing a higher standard of training for future CFIs.”

The post Skyborne Ups Pay for Certificated Flight Instructors appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.