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.

As we drove back home, I said to Dot, “It must be great to learn how to fly.” Dot said, “Why don’t you try it?” To which I replied, “No, I can’t. It would cost too much and take too much time.” So, there I was, two days later at Appleton International Airport (KATW) in the pilot’s seat of a vintage Cessna 150, clutching my student pilot certificate and taking my first flying lesson. In December, with my consulting work finished, we moved back to Massachusetts. After we resettled, I continued my flying lessons at Marlboro Airport (9B1). With its 1,659-foot runway bookended by extremely tall pine trees, there couldn’t be a better place to practice landings and takeoffs. I finally earned my private pilot certificate on May 14, 1975. After we got home, Dot and I held a proper champagne celebration. Then we had a serious discussion about flying, and I promised her that the one thing I would never do was buy an airplane.

Besides, renting would be fine. A month later, I was reflecting on that decision as I was sitting in the left seat of my newly purchased 1958 Piper Comanche 250 at Minute Man Air Field (6B6) with its 2,700-foot runway in Stow. Wow. My landings didn’t have to be precise at all, not after my Marlboro short-field training. In July 1976 with my flight hours adding up, and my wanderlust afoot, I thought it might be fun to try a cross-country flight in my “Baby Airliner.” What better destination than a trip to Oshkosh for another air show? At that time, Burt Rutan was selling his VariEze homebuilt kits to builders around the country—a composite, canard, high-performance aircraft. Burt would occasionally visit some of the builders to help them assemble the kits. There were three kits being built at Stow that would be flying to the Oshkosh show. We planned on meeting them there to see how well the airplanes performed. We had the privilege of working with Burt for a few days.

The Oshkosh show was scheduled to start on July 31, so we started planning for our big adventure. We were to be joined on the trip by Mal Bennert, a good friend of ours who was also a certificated pilot. We spent Saturday packing clothes and thoroughly preflighting the airplane, cleaning, topping the gas tanks, double-checking our checklists, planning the flight route, etc.

Later that afternoon, my son Bill and daughter Sharon dropped by to see how we were doing. Because it was early and a beautiful day, we asked if they would like to take a final sunset sightseeing trip before we left. It would include a stop at Manchester Airport (KMHT) in New Hampshire for the proverbial hundred-dollar hamburgers. It was probably a good thing that we took that flight because later, when I radioed my landing intentions, my second radio was dead. It was an emergency because I would not launch on this trip without both radios working. After we landed, I told our mechanic my problem. Fortunately, one of the local pilots said he had a radio he could lend us for the trip. We spent Sunday replacing and testing the radio. I slept soundly that night, and we left early Monday morning in kind of an overcast day.

• READ MORE: Leaving in the Chocks

Because I wanted to keep both tanks as full as possible, our first fuel stop was planned for Binghamton Airport (KBGM) in New York. We had been flying for about two hours, which put us over the Allegheny Mountains—not too hospitable on the ground. I was pilot flying for this first leg, and all was going well. Dot was in the back, reading a magazine, and we were just cruising along. Suddenly, I thought I heard a skipped cylinder from the engine. I asked Mal on the intercom if he heard that. He said, “Heard what? I didn’t hear anything.” I said, “Yeah, that nothing is the noise I’m talking about.” Just then, the engine coughed for a few beats then a few more until finally it went quiet. Nothing like a shot of adrenaline to liven up a dull morning. I wanted to start down the checklist for “Engine Power Loss During Flight,” so I said, “Mal, you’ve got the airplane.” He answered, “I’ve got the airplane.” I wanted to be free to check the obvious things that can stop an engine, the most likely being fuel starvation. The fuel selector was on the floor between the pilot and copilot. Looking down to move it would have taken my eyes off the horizon—not a good idea. I said, “Leave the flaps and gear up and trim for 100 mph.” Mal answered, “Flaps and gear up, trim for 100.” (For youngsters reading this, we were still using miles per hour back then.)

I looked down at the fuel selector, and it was positioned on the right tank, which was the correct one that I had selected before we left. I turned it to the left tank, pushed mixture to full rich, pulled carb heat on, and turned on the fuel pump. The prop was windmilling nicely, which was a good sign. The best sign, however, was the sound of the engine coughing twice, spitting a little because the carb heat was on, and then coming up to full power. “Now,” I thought, “pretend you’re a professional pilot. Just take a deep breath, wipe the sweat off your brow. Return all settings back to cruise. Continue with normal flight.”

• READ MORE: Why Do Pilots Use Checklists?

When we landed in Binghamton, I immediately dipsticked the right tank. It was dry as a bone. What had happened? As is so often the case, a series of small errors can result in a major problem. After we took the sightseeing flight Saturday, I had every intention of topping off the tanks when we returned, but I was totally distracted by the new problem—the dead radio. While working with that on Sunday, I completely forgot the needed gasoline, thus causing the right tank to be partially empty and run dry before my predicted time.

Is there a moral here to be learned? I don’t know. Checklists are only good when used at the right time. But how do you know when that is, and who checks the checklist checker?

This column first appeared in the August 2023/Issue 940 print edition of FLYING.

The post Checklists Only Function When They’re Open appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

I recently flew Annie, our Commander 114B, back to our home airport in Sussex, New Jersey (KFWN), after its annual inspection. Her stay with the mechanic at Blairstown Airport (1N7) was longer than expected due to delays in delivery of a couple of parts but was not a big deal. My heart grew fonder during our time apart, and I looked forward to the flight home.

• READ MORE: Insuring Your Ideal Aircraft: Bracing for the Ups and Downs

From the day I dropped the airplane off at the shop, I was planning the return flight, perfecting the expanded checklist I would use to make sure everything was working properly after maintenance. After the usual ground checks, I planned to take off and fly circuits around the airport, well above the traffic pattern, making sure that all of the systems were working properly. I would fly high enough and stay close enough to the field that I could glide back to the runway easily. I would then land and check for leaks before heading home.

This procedure is meant to prevent one of those post-maintenance horror stories we hear all of the time despite such occurrences being rare. Once I put my plan into motion, though, the amendments came quickly. Even before I took off, the clear day was turning cloudy, with an overcast moving in.

• READ MORE: The Shortest Year: It’s Time for Your Ideal Aircraft’s Annual Inspection

Engine start, taxi, run-up, and takeoff proceeded normally, but I could hear other pilots on the radio discussing how the weather was deteriorating more quickly than forecast. I heard one pilot suggest to another that he postpone a planned cross-country flight because conditions could become dicey. Others were pushing their aircraft into their hangars, calling it a day. As I took off it seemed like everyone else was landing.

Once airborne I could not climb much higher than 2,000 feet before encountering low clouds. The weather shift was surprisingly quick, and I began to wonder how low the overcast would go. A check of AWOS confirmed that conditions at Sussex, just 25 nm away, were slipping as well. So I decided to skip the landing and leak check back at Blairstown and just head for Sussex.

Instead of circling the departure field until convinced that all was well with Annie, I decided she certainly was healthy enough to make the short jaunt home. Instead of cruising home at a comfortably high altitude, I wound up making the trip at 2,000 feet and hoping that I had not somehow missed any signs of potential trouble.

Realistically, I was confident that the airplane was fine, and I quickly began to simply enjoy being aloft again. I sought to lengthen the short flight by diverting from the sensible, efficient straight line to follow a meandering course. The low altitude was not a burden but an opening to more dramatic, intimate views of the landscape.

By the time I landed in Sussex and taxied to my hangar, the annual inspection had come to represent not just another year of airworthiness but confirmation of my ever-growing love of flying.

The post Annual Inspections Bring You Closer to Your Aircraft appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

1. Trying to steer with the yoke on the ground

With the exception of the two-axis Ercoupe, you steer an airplane on the ground with rudder pedals and differential braking. If you know how to drive, you may try to steer with the yoke on the ground, using it like a steering wheel. Break this habit by folding your arms on your chest and steering with your feet while the CFI controls the power.

2. Not using the checklist

There are pilot wanna-bes who do not embrace the checklist, or think of it as ‘busy work’—that is what a would-be learner called it when I handed it to him before his first lesson. He tossed it back and scolded me for ‘not knowing my job’ because I ‘had to use a checklist.’ I let him struggle to start the airplane, turning the ignition key a few times before I handed him the checklist back.

3. Pulling back on the yoke or stick to get the airplane to climb instead of adding power

This results in a reduction in airspeed and possibly an approach to a stall. Flight instructors are conditioned to guard against this—the good ones will warn you not to, and will explain the importance of adding power to climb, noting the aircraft will climb when power is added—and explain why it happens.

4. Pulling back on the yoke or stick to stretch a glide

Trying to stretch a glide may end in a stall or a hard unscheduled off-airport landing. Add power instead if it’s available—or stick to best glide speed if it’s not.

5. Not using a syllabus

This mistake is mostly the fault of the CFI. The use of a syllabus keeps both the learner and the instructor on track, and can save time and money because you know what you are going to do, in what order and what the performance standards are. The syllabus is written from the requirements for the certificate or rating listed in the FAR/AIM. Syllabi are required at Part 141 schools but not at Part 61 schools, and often there are CFIs who, because they were trained without one, don’t see the value in using them. Find a CFI who does.

6. Shortcuts to get through the knowledge test

The knowledge test contains information you must know how to apply. Rote memorization is the lowest form of learning, and does not lead to understanding, application, or correlation. A pilot may memorize which instruments in the airplane are electrically powered, but not understand how the electrical system works and whether its failure will result in loss of engine power.

7. Failure to know the course requirements

Learners, especially primary learners, tend to trust and follow their CFI without asking questions like ‘why am I learning this?’ or ‘why am I learning this now?’ There are some CFIs who take advantage of this trust and use the learner’s money to pad their logbooks—such as the CFI who had a pre-solo private pilot candidate doing dual night cross-country IFR flights. Save yourself some time and money and check the FAR/AIM for the requirements.

8. Not showing up for lessons on time

Your flight lesson is scheduled for 12 p.m., but you don’t get there until 12:33. Many schools have a policy for late and no-show candidates that allows them to collect the full amount of revenue for the lesson. If you are chronically late or frequently cancel don’t be surprised if both the school and the CFI hesitate to schedule you.

9. Failure to obtain a weather briefing

By your fourth lesson you should be able to obtain and interpret the weather briefing. The CFI should also be checking the weather, but don’t use them as a crutch. Pro tip: looking out the window is not a weather briefing, and “looks pretty good” is not a forecast.

10. Underestimating the time it will take

There are students who think they automatically take their check rides when they reach 40 hours of flight. Acquiring the number of hours does not automatically result in a certificate. The airman certification standards reflect minimums with performance levels that must be met. The average flight time for a private pilot is 60 to 80 hours. Having those hours is only half the battle—you need the knowledge and proficiency to pass the check ride.

11. Paying the full amount up front

You may hear about programs for time building and training that run from $6,000 to more than $12,000 de- pending on the certificate or rating. Some will pressure you to pay the full amount up front. Never do this. Be sure to ask about ‘handling fees’ or what happens if you take a break from flying. There are schools that claim they continue to ‘manage’ the funds by taking a percent- age even when you are not flying. Also, ask about a refund policy. If you find out you need to stop because of a medical issue or major life expense, you’ll ask for your unspent funds. A fee might apply and you will lose a percentage even if you’ve only had one lesson. Some schools may not refund at all. Read the fine print on the con- tract before you hand over any money. Do not put more money on account than you can afford to lose.

This column first ran in the June 2023/Issue 938 print edition of FLYING.

The post 11 Mistakes that Student Pilots Make appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

In the past, The Aviator Store was the pilot supply store at KBFI, and National Aviation, located across the way, mostly carried hardware for aircraft, but they did have some sectionals and cockpit supplies for aviators in training. I wasn’t sure if they would have the paper I wanted because digital is so prevalent these days. The new National did not disappoint–the checklist had to be ordered. It is now in my possession, added to my checklist collection organized by make and model. I supposed I could go digital for this too, but I prefer a hard copy as a teaching tool. Digital is wonderful—I use ForeFlight too—but I don’t feel I am doing my job as a CFI if I don’t teach my learners how to use both paper and electronic. 

One of the first lessons a pilot learns is how to use the checklist. It is one of the items the applicant is tested on during their check ride. Show me a pilot carrying a checklist as they preflight their aircraft, and I will show you someone who had good training.

Yet a colleague told me how a family member became concerned watching him as he used a checklist during the preflight inspection. He was taking his folks up for a scenic flight. The colleague had been flying for several years and his father mentioned he thought he really should have this process memorized by now—especially since he was now flying for a regional airline.

Upon hearing this the colleague pulled out his metaphorical instructor cap and explained that checklists are always used—it doesn’t matter if you have 1 hour or 1,000. Develop these habits now, he said, because when you reach that job in corporate or commercial aviation you will nary make a move without consulting the checklist. (Full disclosure: As I helped turn him into an instructor, when I heard this story, I positively beamed with pride.)

• READ MORE: Why Do Pilots Use Checklists?

The savvy instructors teach their learners that the checklist is not a crutch, but a means to ensure that items are checked systematically, and provide the pilot with the metrics for acceptable operation, for example the acceptable level of a power drop when testing magnetos. If you are interrupted during the flow of the checklist, back up three items, then resume.

If you rent aircraft, you probably have learned that checklists grow legs. People put them in their kneeboard or flight bag and accidentally walk off with them. The smart flight schools have extra aircraft-specific checklists available, and often have them for purchase. Buy one of your own and put your name on it in large letters.

In addition to the procedures set forth by the manufacturer (which are often photocopied directly out of the pilot’s operating handbook or aircraft flight manual), on these FBO checklists you’ll likely find a page or two of procedures specifically required at the FBO such as “rotate propeller to vertical position after flight to indicate the need for fuel.”

The FBO-centric instructions can vary, and as the law of primacy is strong, it’s not uncommon to take those procedures with you when you change schools. This can create challenges. For example, one school may have a rule that empty oil bottles need to be placed in the back of the aircraft because the line staff collects them at the end of the week and uses them to determine how much oil the fleet is using, while at another FBO this practice is construed as leaving trash in an airplane. Always ask about the quirky rules and procedures so you don’t become ‘that guy.’

If you are flying at a school with many aircraft, be wary of ‘musical checklists’ where, like the game musical chairs, the checklists can go missing from one airplane and the renter or even the CFI takes one from another to complete the flight. This practice is usually frowned upon greatly.

Some FBOs add the checklist to the checklist. At the end of each flight, the pilot is to walk around the aircraft to make sure it is tied down securely, then pause by the tail and verify the Hobbs and tach numbers are properly recorded in the dispatch binder and the checklist is clipped in the dispatch binder.

Making Your Own Checklist

Some pilots make their own checklists. In many cases it can be very beneficial as you can tailor the checklist to your specific aircraft, needs, and the way you process information.

Begin by referring to the POH or AFM, and use the information there as a template.

Take special note of supplemental information that is aircraft and avionics specific and adjust accordingly. Note power settings, mixture settings, temperatures, fuel flow, and airspeeds for different procedures such for approaches. Include notes on setting up the cockpit before each flight, such as how to load a flight plan and operate the avionics, if appropriate.

• READ MORE: Looking Beyond a Pre-Purchase Checklist

You may want to add additional dialog as part of the passenger briefing for those times when the person sitting next to you is a passenger with a pilot rating. In addition to the briefing you give your non-flying passengers, (sterile cockpit, don’t touch the controls, seatbelts, egress, etc.) let the person know if you want a division of tasks, for example, having them work the radios while you fly.

You may want to include a page of local frequencies so you don’t have to fumble for them during the flight, or even add notes on the VFR approaches into the local airports if they are geographic specific, such as “maintain 1,400 until crossing over shoreline.”

If you create the checklist on the computer, it’s easy to go back into the file and make adjustments as desired or needed. An office supply store will have the means of trimming and laminating the checklist if you so desire. Pro tip: Run the checklist through the laminator twice to make sure it stays laminated.

Making your own checklist is often a good exercise for pilots in training, as it requires them to study the POH, and it shows the instructor how the applicant processes information. This can lead to better instruction, as the CFI can adjust their delivery method, if need be.

Where Checklists Came From

It was an aviation accident that led to the adoption of the preflight checklist. On October 30, 1935 a Boeing 299, the prototype of the B-17, took off on a test flight from Wright Airfield in Ohio. The aircraft reached an altitude of approximately 300 feet, then stalled and crashed. Two of the five men on board were killed. The post-accident investigation determined that the pilot forgot to release a new control lock on the aircraft’s elevator. It was suggested that the pilot was overwhelmed by the airplane’s complicated instrument panel full of dials and switches. There was just too much to keep track of in this modern airplane.

Boeing fixed the issue by creating a checklist with specific action items for engine start taxi, takeoff, and landing. 

The post Make the Most of the Checklist appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

I also knew that I had only myself to blame for waiting too long to address the dirty buildup. Had I taken the time to wipe down the airplane thoroughly after every flight I could have avoided the discomfort of lying underneath in a semi-stress position, rag in hand. I have a creeper that makes scooting across the hangar floor easier, but it cannot help me scrub.

• READ MORE: Maintaining Your Ideal Aircraft: What Can a Pilot Do?

My reason for tackling the cleaning project stems from a trip to the National Championship Air Races in Reno, Nevada, earlier this month. While there I spent a lot of time observing the crew of Miss Trinidad, a Russian Yak-3U Unlimited class racer. I noticed that they cleaned the airplane several times a day, not just after each flight but in between flights. Cleaning and polishing were part of the long checklist it used to make sure the Yak was always ready to fly.

Earlier I had shown a picture of Annie to the Yak’s crew chief, John Dowd, a career agricultural pilot and longtime racer I have written about before. Dowd pointed to the remains of hundreds of insects on the leading edge of the wing and reminded me that keeping the airplane clean would help aerodynamically in addition to simply being the right thing to do. He was correct, and, yes, the bugs really were visible in the photo. It was a bit shameful.

The Reno experience reminded me that owning an airplane is a major commitment, and cleaning off bugs, soot, and grass fragments is just a tiny part of the overall responsibility. After all, cleaning and checking every part of your aircraft helps ensure that you do not miss potential problems like airframe damage, corrosion, fluid leaks, or loose fasteners.

• READ MORE: Acquiring the Right Airplane Does Not Preclude Dreaming

After returning from the air races, I began writing a personal checklist consisting mostly of tasks to complete at the conclusion of each flight and during nonflying time spent in the hangar. It is a living document. I add items to the list as they come to mind. You will not find them in the typical POH, but they are vital, and we tend to forget them without a checklist. 

The efficient work of the volunteer crew taking care of Miss Trinidad also illustrated the importance of taking a consistent, professional approach to aviation. While I always seek to give my family a smooth, secure, airline-style experience when we travel in Annie, I know that I need to improve my briefing style and try not to be nervous when speaking with ATC. Becoming the best PIC one can be is always a work in progress.
For now at least one thing is certain: Annie will not have to overcome the drag of accumulated insects on our next flight.

The post Remember the Importance of Keeping Your Ideal Aircraft Clean appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Answer: They both are. The purpose of the checklist is to make sure specific items are inspected in a logical manner. For example, on the preflight you start in the cockpit of the aircraft to check for documents then continue to the exterior of the aircraft, following a path that takes you around the airplane until you end up back in the cockpit. Pro tip: If you are interrupted during the preflight inspection, back up three items on the checklist.

When there is a loss of engine power at altitude, the first thing you do is achieve best glide airspeed. The second thing is to identify the best place to land, and then you go to the emergency checklist. It is critical to establish the best glide because that airspeed gives you the most distance for the altitude you have. Best place to land could mean the difference between going down in the trees or making a deadstick landing in an empty field.  Once you have achieved the best glide and the airplane is heading toward the best place to land, that’s when you pull out the emergency checklist, verify you have done the first two things, and commence troubleshooting.

The post Why Do Pilots Use Checklists? appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

I am different when someone is flying with me for the first time. Even more so if that person shows an interest in or fear of aviation. I feel responsible for my passenger’s continued fascination or for assuaging their anxiety. I do this by exhibiting a high level of proficiency from preflight through tie-down. I might as well have four stripes on my shoulders and travel everywhere with a small black roller case. With a witness in the left seat, I take on the role of a teacher with an inherent obligation to pass on the knowledge I’ve acquired. The byproduct is useful to both pilot and passenger: By going over the rules for others, it fortifies them in my mind and—ideally—prevents future transgressions.

This is in stark contrast to my style and manner when I am alone. I break rules with a bit more ease when I fly solo. For example, there is a line item in the preflight for my aircraft that requires me to check for water in the fuel tanks. I will not always sump the tanks if the airplane was in the hangar overnight with no rainfall and no new fuel taken. It feels like a fairly safe offense as far as they go, but it does break the rules. In this instance, the odds of the fuel being contaminated are slim to none. But the point is, you do your preflight. All of it. When you start picking and choosing because of context or circumstance, you open yourself up to a point of failure.

So long as the result is a safe flight, what’s the difference? I grew up in a religious household where the letter of the law superseded the spirit of the law. I never understood this until I became a pilot. When one obeys the spirit of the law but not the letter, one is fulfilling what the law intended, though not adhering to the literal wording. In the aviation world, the spirit of the law is of little importance. It’s about doctrine. There are items in a preflight one would never skip—checking flight controls, for example. But when you skip a less important item, you break the chain. The takeaway for your subconscious is not that the skipped item was carefully considered and a logical decision made to ignore it, but that the act of skipping an item was, in itself, permissible. That ain’t good.

Following the letter of the law in an airplane is a good thing and having a newbie in the cockpit seems to ensure that I will do that. Once the engine starts and we are taxiing, my radio calls are crisper with someone new in the right seat. I verbalize every step I take. I follow checklists. I think three steps ahead. Even my hand movements seem more deliberate. It’s a bit of a dog-and-pony show, I’ll admit. But in putting my passenger at ease, I reinforce good habits for myself.

In the early days of my flight training, Neil, my instructor, showed me the proper way to preflight a Piper Warrior. Those first few weeks of training must have driven him crazy. I dutifully checked the alternator belt for fraying, inspected the brake pads for wear, and ran my fingers over the prop blades like I was reading braille. I was closer to doing an annual than a preflight, and this technician with inspection authorization wasn’t signing off until he was sure the airplane was airworthy. It must have been tremendously annoying to him. But Neil never said a word, possibly because he was billing me for the time, but mostly because he was helping me build my own flight regimen, my own doctrine. He just smiled and told me I was doing a great job—and that, no, that was certainly not a crack in the cylinder head.

Read More from Ben Younger: Leading Edge

Recently, I started seeing someone—a woman named Kim—who is new to aviation and has a strong interest in it. When Kim and I began flying together, I was especially deliberate and practiced in all envelopes of flight, explaining everything in great detail to present as professional in my pilot duties as I knew how. Now, a few months down the line, some slack has slipped into my regimen. As usual, chronic problems in the cockpit begin with complacency.

Kim asks questions. Lots of them. The problem is, she remembers the answers. She pays close attention to everything I am doing in the airplane. When behaviors I initially described as crucial are overlooked weeks later, she quickly targets the discrepancy. She is a human crew-alerting system.

On a clear day this July, departing out of my home field, the ATIS told us that the winds were 290 at 5 knots—favoring Runway 33. We were heading east, so I made a left turn onto the taxiway for Runway 15. Immediately, Kim asked me why I was lining up on the wrong runway.

“I thought you said to never, ever take off with a tailwind?”

“Well, yes, but it’s only 5 knots, and we are much closer to this end of the runway. Plus, it’s more convenient for our direction of flight.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I was setting a terrible example. She had taken her first flight lesson only days before and was at her most impressionable. If she were the PIC and had made the same decision as me, I certainly would have some questions for her. Kim sat in silence for a beat. “So not never, ever, then?”

Act like the pilot you want to be at all times. With passengers. Without passengers. With your dog. While you make breakfast. While you sleep. Do this long enough, and perhaps one day, you will be that pilot.

Ben Younger is a TV and film writer/director, avid motorcyclist, and surfer—but it’s being a pilot that he treats as a second profession. Follow Ben Younger on Instagram: @thisisbenyounger.

This story appeared in the October 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post Beginners appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

OK, picture some far-in-the-future archaeologist exploring an area that ancient maps call North America and stumbling on an odd-looking site—long strips of concrete radiating out from a once-paved, open area. Combing through the ruins of a nearby structure, he unearths a barely discernible, crumbling document covered with peculiar characters. If only there were accompanying hieroglyphics, this could be a Rosetta stone—the key to deciphering the language of a long-extinct, strange culture.

CIGARS-LCA-BLITTS-FLARE-GUMPS-CLIFF-MPG-CCCC-FACTS-FLARE-MIDGET-TTTT-WIRETAP-APTATEN-HAMSACC-AAAAA-PARE-CRAGS-PAVE-DECIDE-OODA-IMAIR-PAST-SMACFM-ALARMS-TOMATOFLAMES-NDRUMS-TITS-AVEF-MSHITTT-CEFLAGGS-GAARF-CIA-CRAFT-CAAAMRF-DVA-BUMPFH-FMUBPS-ABCDE-FMOST-FIST-DNSCRAM-TEST-BOAT-TSAFE-AWARE-ROVA-DROVV-ONCAL-TTMPPFFISCH-PUFF-PRWAMCN-IREX-FMQDC-MARRRTHA-FMUTBSL-CLEAROFF-FMQD-MAX SAYS WINTER FLYING GIVES ME A BACKACHE-PARK OFF PIGS-30-FOOT DUCKS-TRUE VIRGINS MAKE DULL COMPANIONS-CAN DEAD MEN VOTE TWICE-EAST IS LEAST, WEST IS BEST.

Any of these sound familiar? Well, if you’re having trouble reading them, try researching and collecting 57 (and counting) mnemonics that pilots have devised as memory aids to replace or augment printed (and electronic) checklists.

Mnemonics are devices or patterns of letters we use to assist in remembering something, such as “CIGARS,” “WIRETAP” and “PAVE,” which cleverly form a kind of phony word that’s easily remembered. “GUMPSCLIFF,” “FMUBS” or “BUMPFH” aren’t words; you can’t say them—at least, I can’t without slobbering all over myself—but they’re still mnemonics, with each letter representing another word or phrase.

In my opinion, if you’re memorizing “TTMPPFFISCH,” or worse, “The Man From IHC,” to use as before-takeoff checklists, you might look for another instructor.

Checklists were on my mind when a video of the 1980 Saudi Airlines Flight 163 tragedy arrived in my inbox. I saw it years ago at an FAA accident-training course and never forgot how ugly and utterly devastating it is. Shortly after takeoff from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, in an L-1011, warning lights alerted the three-man crew to a fire in the baggage or rear-cabin area. Their reactions (or lack of)—the denial, agonizingly slow response, and absence of CRM or crew coordination—is beyond incompetence and hard to accept. Incredibly, they ignore emergency checklists for this, the ultimate emergency in any airplane: an inflight fire.

After landing the L-1011 back at Riyadh, nearly 30 minutes elapse before they’re clear of the runway and stopped, despite emergency equipment surrounding the burning airplane. All 301 souls on the airplane died of smoke inhalation. If you watch it, you’ll weep.

It’s an extreme example, but an unforgettable reminder of the importance of checklists in any size or type of airplane and any kind of flying. I can’t speak to large air-carrier operations, but I know a little about checklists in my corner of the airplane world.

In truth, using only the familiar “CIGARS” for the essential before-takeoff items and “GUMPS” before landing will keep you out of serious trouble for VFR flights in most single-engine and light-twin airplanes. But the gold standard before launching in any airplane on any flight is the flow. Beginning at the same logical spot in the cockpit, you work left to right, up and down, looking at, touching, checking and setting every instrument, knob and gadget. Then, and only then, you pull out a written checklist (ideally one tailored for your particular flivver) and check to confirm you haven’t missed anything.

As the saying goes, checklists are just that—”check” lists, not “to-do” lists.

“Abnormal” or “emergency” checklists are a different story, and here you need large print and a format that’s easy to grab and read and follow—after you’ve accomplished the essential memory items. To quote Arlo Guthrie, now you gotta resort to “the boring method”—you memorize memory items.

Google “aircraft checklists” and be prepared for a wild ride. I fervently hope some of the wilder maniacal mnemonics you’ll find are really study guides for written and oral exams. Why else would you memorize “GAARF” to identify landing illusions, or “APTATEN” for items you’re required to report when flying “IFR”? (IFR is an acronym too.) And why else, indeed, would you memorize those FAA favorites—”PAVE” and “IMSAFE”—in the real world. Using “PARE” to get out of a spin (does “P” mean pitch or power?), “BUMPFH” as a downwind checklist, or “Max Says Winter Flying Gives Me A Backache” to configure for a VMC demonstration doesn’t work for me.

Interestingly, it was 30-some years after Orv and Will flew off Dayton’s Huffman Prairie—and at nearly the same spot—that the concept of formal, written checklists was born.

Read More from Martha Lunken: Unusual Attitudes

In October 1935, military brass and manufacturing executives assembled at Dayton’s Wright Field to evaluate and choose a design for the Army’s next-generation long-range bomber. Boeing’s Model 299 was the clear choice; this aluminum-alloy airplane—with a 100-plus-foot wingspan and four engines—could carry five times the bomb load, and also fly faster and farther than competing Martin and Douglas designs.

All eyes were on what a newspaperman termed a “Flying Fortress” as it roared down the runway and smoothly lifted off. And then, at about 300 feet, it stalled, fell off on a wing, and crashed in a fiery explosion, killing the pilot and copilot.

Investigators found nothing mechanically wrong but discovered that the pilot, Maj. Ployer Hill, had forgotten to release a new locking mechanism on the elevator and rudder controls before takeoff. The Army decided this four-engine airplane with retractable landing gear, wing flaps, electric trim tabs and constant speed props was too complex and awarded the contract to the smaller Douglas design. Boeing nearly went bankrupt (sounds familiar).

But the Army did purchase a few Boeing models for testing, since pilots were convinced that, despite its tragic debut, the airplane would be valuable to the Air Corps. Hill had been an exceptional pilot and chief of Army flight testing, so lack of training wasn’t the problem. But the airplane’s complexity was an issue; printed lists of items to check in all phases of flight were clearly necessary. After these lists were developed and implemented, the Model 299 flew nearly 18 million miles without an alarming accident rate, and the Army Air Corps ordered almost 13,000 of what would be called the B-17.

Using a checklist is like eating vegetables and exercising; you recognize the importance and comply, especially in complex or unfamiliar airplanes. But that resolve can break down when you’re flying an airplane you own and where you’re the sole pilot. And, be honest, how many of us religiously use a post-flight shutdown and securing checklist?

When I recently asked a buddy if he uses a written checklist in his RV-8, he said no. When I mentioned the flow, he said, “Oh, sure.” Then he sheepishly added that, since the ignition switch is hidden behind his iPad mount, on more than one occasion he’s put the airplane to bed with hot mags.

This story appeared in the September 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post Maniacal Mnemonics appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

PM: “Making power, power is even.”

PM: “Airspeed alive.”

PM: “80 knots.”

PF: “My yoke.”

PM: “Your yoke.”

PM: “V₁.”

PM: “V_R.”

PM: “Positive rate on two.”

PF: “Gear up.”

PM: “Selecting gear up.”

PM: “Gear is up.”

PM: “Clean wing speed.”

PF: “Clean the wing.”

PM: “Cleaning the wing.”

PM: “Wing is clean.”

PM: “Speed limit is 250 knots.”

PM: “Out of 10,000 feet, no speed limit.”

I was serving as the required copilot and pilot monitoring (PM) for Martha, who was captain and pilot flying (PF) on this trip in our old Falcon 10. These were my callouts and my responses to the pilot flying on our takeoff.

Pilots in training to be a copilot, or pilot monitoring, in the airlines refer to this as “the script.” Before a new hire shows up for training, they are given what is known as the Flight Crew Operations Manual, which includes the script. It provides the callouts expected from the pilot monitoring at various times in the flight profile. The flight profile consists of the configurations required at various stages in the flight, and the allowable speed ranges associated with those configurations.

Joe Muñoz, an active airline pilot and simulator instructor, tells us that failure to remember and perform the script is the main reason why new hires have difficulty moving to active duty.

Getting the script down is a big deal. The script sets the pace of the crew’s response to the rapid development of events in a jet. If the copilot stumbles in performing the script, events can quickly get ahead of both the pilot monitoring and pilot flying.

Pilots who come to the airlines from a single-pilot, piston-powered background are not familiar with either the crew coordination or the pace. The script is a powerful tool that helps the new hire with both. In addition to the takeoff and initial climb, there is a script for every phase of flight. When my temporary loss of medical certificate moved me out of the pilot seats of our Falcon, I watched Martha train her substitute copilots. I gained a new appreciation for the script. Some copilots, under the pressure of the tempo, had difficulty remembering what they were supposed to do next. They failed to make their callouts at the right time.

Memorizing the script in advance of showing up at the simulator or an airplane solves that problem. Mutual command of the script is what lets two pilots in the airlines who have never met before fly together collaboratively and effectively.

Muñoz advises: “The preparation you do in advance of your simulator sessions or time in the airplane is the cheapest, most efficient and beneficial thing you can do in your entire training program. Showing up for training without being ready to perform the script leaves you figuratively trailing behind the airplane on a rope tied to the elevator.”

Read More from John King: Sky Kings

Memorizing the script does not imply that the crew is not using checklists. Many of the events—such as the takeoff and climb—require strict attention to what is going on at that very moment. It’s not the time to be looking at a checklist. The actions in those circumstances are directed by the script and flow procedures. At the appropriate time, the pilot monitoring uses the checklist to ensure all the items have been accomplished and announces completion of the checklist to the pilot flying.

Muñoz says: “Showing up unprepared to perform the script is like going on a parachute jump and not putting on your own equipment. You just jump out of the airplane and hope that your training buddy has put their parachute on, and will catch you on the way down and hug you.”

Even if the pi lot f lying does figuratively hug you, they won’t appreciate having to do it. It makes their job substantially more difficult.

A surprising amount is expected of the pilot monitoring in a two-pilot crew. They are expected to be active participants in the flight. When Martha was training her copilots, she did a great job of setting the expectations:

“As my copilot, your help will be greatly appreciated, and I am soliciting you to:

• Make all the standard callouts according to our SOP (the script).
• Advise me if I am about to violate a heading, altitude or course assignment.
• Advise me if I am about to violate any aircraft limitations for the configuration we are in.
• Make callouts if you become aware of something you think I should know.
• And if you have any other input, particularly if we are in a situation where you feel uncomfortable or if we are following a procedure that you see may lead us into trouble, I would very much value your opinion and expertise in helping us avoid that.

“Please monitor my autopilot and flight-director selections:

• Verify that I have actually selected the setting that I tell you I have selected.
• Advise me if I have selected a mode that is not appropriate.

“In all cases, I will be most appreciative that you are helping to keep us out of trouble. Please monitor:

• Speeds, actual and currently allowed
• Altitudes and altimeter setting
• Headings
• Navigation selections

“My response to you will be either:

• ‘Correcting’ or
• ‘Thank you.’

As you can see, Martha was making the pilot monitoring a risk management partner in the flight. To have time to do their job well, they had to have the script for the flight mastered.

A surprising amount of our nonflying lives is also guided by scripts.

As in flying, a script aids in any collaborative endeavor. As Martha and I moved our teaching out of the classroom and into the video studio, following a script was a concept we had to learn. As opposed to being at the head of a classroom, teaching in a video studio is very much a collaborative effort. The script tells everyone what is going to happen next. Based on the script, the crew knows when to roll background video or when to bring in text on the screen—or a graphic or an animation.

Another collaborative effort occurs when we meet someone for the first time. The mutual small talk we engage in is based on a script we have all been using since childhood. It sets the direction and pace of the conversation. It guides a dialogue that is used to establish common ground. We look the other in the eye, nod, smile and engage in small talk. If one of us does not follow the script, the other will feel unsettled.

Surprisingly, even if you fly single pilot, you should also have a script for your flight. As a single pilot, you have to perform the functions of both the pilot flying and the pilot monitoring. It is just as important for you to have a script for what should be happening at any time as it is for a two-pilot crew. If you don’t, you are in the same position as the new hire who shows up to simulator training without being prepared. The problem is, you don’t have a second crewmember who can figuratively hug you and lower you gently to the ground.

This story appeared in the August 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post Flight Deck Scripts for Life appeared first on FLYING Magazine.