AOPA Pilot Blog: Reporting Points

Thinking about the 9/11 anniversary, it’s hard to grasp the impact that the events of that day have had on so many.

Among those whose lives would be severely impacted is Tammy Duckworth. You’ll recall that we profiled her in AOPA Pilot in the March 2010 issue. The story and video includes her remarkable tale of surviving a helicopter crash in Iraq, losing her legs, getting back into flying, and starting her life over again.

She is among 40 people that TIME Magazine interviewed about the impact of 9/11. A remarkable Web site. Her story is here: http://www.time.com/time/video/player/0,32068,1139568115001_0,00.html

In the “News That Makes My Blood Pressure Shoot Up A Few Points” category, the Huffington Post is reporting that Colton Harris-Moore, the Barefoot Bandit, has signed a deal with 20th Century Fox to do a film about his life story. The deal could be worth as much as $1.3 million. He wouldn’t get a dime of it, of course; plea bargains he made in June to the various felony charges (including stealing airplanes) prevent that. (By the way, check out Mike Collins’ account of the Barefoot Bandit saga here.) Harris-Moore is set to be sentenced in October.

He might not get a dime, but he’ll continue to get notoriety. Even if I vote with my wallet, I suppose his 80 zillion Facebook friends will make up the difference at the box office.

What about you? Would you see a film about the Barefoot Bandit?

Jeppesen Digital Presses

With its new Mobile FliteDeck iPad app, you might think Jeppesen has only recently begun a strategy to move away from paper charts, but you would be wrong. During a recent visit to Jeppesen headquarters in Denver, I was once again reminded of a strategy put in place a decade ago by the company’s leadership to transition away from paper.

While the true paperless cockpit is just now arriving, the transition has been successful, if not complete. Not many years ago, Jeppesen printed some 8 billion (that’s with a “B”) pieces of paper–paper en route charts and terminal procedures. This year it will only be about 1 billion. An even bigger difference is that now, most of that printing is done as print-on-demand instead of offset printing on mammoth presses.

The digital print-on-demand process is much more efficient and cost-effective. Today, if you special order an approach book, for example, chances are it will come off the digital press today and be in the mail today. No longer must Jeppesen guess how many people will want that book and then print extras on the offset press.

Take a look at the video link at the top of this post for a quick look at how the print-on-demand presses work and stay tuned as Jeppesen continues to work with its customers to transition to an all-digital world.

A more indepth video look at Jeppesen’s charting operation is on AOPA Live.

The best replacement yet for paper charts is the iPad. A look at Jeppesen’s new FliteDeck Mobile app is also on AOPA Live.

Last month, I practiced Barry Schiff’s maneuver for the impossible turn at altitude and recorded it on AOPA Live. As expected, many pilots wrote in offering their own advice.

The most common suggestion was to make the practice maneuver more realistic. Schiff recommended turning 270 degrees and noting the altitude loss. That’s because in a real emergency, a pilot is going to turn 180 degrees, then 45 more to end up over the runway, and back another 45 degrees to line up on the runway. It totals 270 degrees of turn. Others suggested practicing at altitude over a straight road to simulate a runway.

So I went up with my instructor, Sandy Geer, again and tried both scenarios in a Cessna 172, same model as before. I also applied some of what I had learned from practicing Schiff’s maneuver the first time.

First, I made sure that I added pitch-up trim during the maneuver (yes, I’m a weakling). I’ve been trained to do this in other practice emergency scenarios (pitch for best glide and trim), but I had forgotten to do this for the impossible turn maneuver. By using trim to relieve some of the control pressures, it was easier for me to maintain the 45-degree bank and airspeed while looking outside. Last month, each time I did the maneuver, I looked only at the instruments.

Setting up on a westerly heading, I climbed to 3,000 feet msl, pulled the throttle to idle, held the pitch-up attitude for five seconds, and then started the turn to the left. After turning 225 degrees, I immediately rolled out and into a 45-degree-bank turn in the opposite direction for another 45 degrees. After stopping my sink rate, I noted my altitude loss: 400 feet. That’s 100 feet more of altitude loss than when I practiced the maneuver with a constant 270-degree turn. But, Schiff also said that after doing the turn he described, add a 50-percent margin. After losing 300 feet with a constant 270-degree turn, that safety padding would put the minimum altitude to turn back in an emergency at 450 feet. With the more realistic 225-degree left turn and 45-degree right turn back to the imaginary runway, my altitude loss was still within the limits set by following his checklist.

Next, I decided to make the scenario a little more realistic by setting up the maneuver above a straight road simulating a runway. The first time, not so good: I lost 600 feet. But, I had let my airspeed slip from best glide (65 knots) to 80 knots. So, I tried again, focusing my attention outside, and lost about 400 feet. Now, I still did all of this at altitude, so I didn’t have the rush of the ground coming up.

I think Schiff’s recommended 50-percent cushion to altitude loss is wise and encompasses a number of factors that can crop up. However, I know my personal comfort level, and I still wouldn’t feel confident making 450 feet my turn-back altitude. However, I would keep the 750-foot mark that I established as my personal minimum after practicing Schiff’s maneuver the first time. Perhaps I will lower that altitude as I gain more practice, but I will probably never lower to it 450 or 500 feet agl.

One reader commented that he had practiced the emergency maneuver earlier in the year at an airport and learned a lot of useful information. That’s not something I’m comfortable with, so I will draw the line at practicing over a road at altitude.

Other readers pointed out the effect that wind could have on the maneuver, which Schiff addressed in his article, and that altitude loss will be greater with a dead engine than one at idle power. Readers also discussed the difference in aircraft loading, whether you have passengers or not. If you haven’t read Schiff’s article, I recommend it—he addresses many factors as he describes the maneuver.

They key is to set your own personal minimum. Practicing Schiff’s maneuver, or one of the others described above can help you establish that minimum, which may be never to turn back to the airport.

Hopefully an engine out after takeoff isn’t something I ever experience. But if it is, I am glad that I am practicing for such an emergency—whether I land straight ahead or turn back. None of my other emergency training had included that, and I would have been horribly unprepared.

So how realistically have you practiced turning back to the airport? Do you prefer Schiff’s 270-degree turn, do you use a road or other straight reference, or something else?

Sully's Airbus makes its way west.

The US Airways Airbus A320 that Capt. Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger ditched successfully in the Hudson River Jan. 15, 2009–when both engines failed after ingesting a flock of Canada geese–is making its last journey. And this time, it’s a road trip.

The airliner’s 120-foot-long fuselage is being trucked to the Carolinas Aviation Museum in Charlotte, N.C., following a circuitous route dictated by low bridges along Interstate 95. It’s heading west on I-70 and I-68, and then will head south on I-79 and I-77. Goes to show that GPS direct is not always the best route to file.

The airliner left Harrison, N.J., on June 4. The oversized load (the wings and tail were moved separately) is being hauled by J. Supor and Son Trucking and Rigging, which also helped to lift the aircraft from the water following the “Miracle on the Hudson” landing. Although the schedule is subject to change, the jet should arrive in Charlotte sometime Friday. 

You can follow the progress of the unusual movement online, and the airplane also has a Facebook page.

Just watched the space shuttle Endeavour take off on its final flight, the second-to-last launch of a NASA shuttle. Wow. Gives me goosebumps just watching on TV. Atlantis is slated to fly the final shuttle mission, STS-135, a 12-day mission currently scheduled to launch on June 28.

The shuttle program was still a novelty back in 1984, when I was credentialed as a newspaper photographer for STS-41D: the maiden flight for Discovery, and only the shuttle program’s 12th mission. While I was on the Cape for both scrubbed attempts in June 1984, I missed the launch itself in August (one of the shuttle’s three engines had to be replaced, resulting in a two-month delay).

About 13 years later, however, I did get to see a shuttle launch, when I was able to sneak away from an NBAA convention in Orlando for a couple of hours. It’s something you feel more than see, as the shock waves roll in–a long time after you watched the shuttle lift off. This is something to experience, and you have one chance remaining.

Today’s shuttle statistic: The solid rocket boosters burn 11,500 pounds of fuel every second.  OK, another “Wow.”

Not too low, four Air Force T-38 pilots found out after a fly-by before a University of Iowa football game on Nov. 20, 2010. Following an investigation, the pilots were disciplined for flying too low and too fast, and the lead pilot will leave the Air Force, according to the Iowa City Press-Citizen.

How fast is too fast? Faster than 300 kts–and maybe closer to 400–below 10,000 feet msl, before the game and during a practice flight the day before.

How low is too low? The jets reportedly cleared a scoreboard by 58 feet. Radar put the flight at 176 feet agl, just 16 feet higher than the stadium’s press box.

The report noted that the fans inside the stadium enjoyed the flyover, and a number of YouTube videos appear to confirm this. It’s not clear how many fans’ ears are still ringing from the experience, however.

It’s that time of year again. No, not tax time (although that will be coming soon).

Drinking my morning coffee, I noticed a bird on my back deck with a large twig in its mouth. A few minutes later when it clicked (I was on my first cup), I went out and looked inside the grill, where I found a nest construction project that was well under way. They’ll be doing the same thing at the airport, in your engine cowlings (and any other openings into the fuselage that they can find). It was a great reminder to check carefully for avian urban renewal efforts before our spring flights.

Now to see if the impromptu cowl plugs I put in the grill vents were effective….

My Waypoints column in the February 2011 issue of AOPA Pilot is already getting lots of e-mail comments and it’s only been out for a few hours.

Over the years I’ve gotten pretty good at writing to fit the available space in the magazine, but this subject–how mean and cranky everyone has gotten in aviation–was tough and I actually wrote two versions. One for the magazine and one that is longer. The longer version,  which explores the subject more thoroughly, follows. I hope you will share your comments and insights.

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Just a heads up on the meaning of the headline: This is not a feel-good, warm-and-fuzzy column about the philosophical meaning of aviation. Nope, this is about how mean aviation has become. Let me explain.

I’ve been in the media business in one way or another for 27 years, 25 years covering general aviation. As a great consumer of information, I’ve noticed over the years the trend in newspaper letters to the editor and more recently online comments to newspaper articles toward the negative. Where at one point, people could respond to an article with an articulate, well-thought-out argument, today people seem to resort to name calling and rude, thoughtless comments and taunting right out of the box.

Here’s one well-documented example: The St. Petersburg Times noted the hit-and-run death of a 48-year-old man on a bicycle. He was killed pedaling home after his shift washing dishes at a restaurant where he had been employed for 10 years. Shortly after the story posted online, a person wrote a comment saying: “A man who is working as a dishwasher at the Crab Shack at the age of 48 is surely better off dead.” The newspaper quickly took the comment down and in response, sent a reporter to check out the dead man’s past. Turns out he was a simple, quiet man who was revered by his co-workers, loyal to the core to his employer, and not a bother to anyone.

Unlike the general public, general aviation pilots used to be more civil The fraternity of pilots enjoyed robust discussions in person, in print, and online, but, for the most part, respect prevailed. Over the years, I have observed that pilots, in general, are good folks—more patriotic and more respectful than the average citizenry. When my daughters were young, we spent a lot of time around airports and I felt comfortable telling them that if they ever got lost near or on an airport to look not just for a policeman, but anyone with a headset or chart bag or hanging around a pilot lounge. Pilots, I said, could be trusted to get you help.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure I would still offer that same advice. Somewhere along the way, pilots have become as mean-spirited and spiteful as the rest of the population. I find that disheartening.

Over the decades, I’ve developed a thick skin as people often disagree with things we write, but the recent trend toward personal attacks and the destructive nature of comments is wearing, for sure. A few examples:

One member took the time to write an e-mail decrying the hairstyles of several AOPA staff members pictured in the magazine—his only reason for the e-mail. One woman’s hair he described as “a cross between an Alabama trailer mom on welfare, a Puli [I’m not sure what that is], and [a] wig….” According to this member, a senior executive here has a “1975 SuperCuts hackjob, likely inspired by Sal in the film Dog Day Afternoon.”

Thanks much for the constructive comments….

Personal attacks are not limited to hairstyles. Another member wrote in to complain that several people pictured in various articles in a particular issue were overweight. I guess we should only feature thin, handsome, well-coiffed pilots going forward. And white, well-groomed ones too.

An ad in this magazine for one of AOPA’s products included a photo of a dark-skinned man who was not clean shaven, causing one member to call AOPA President Craig Fuller’s office to complain. He felt we were presenting a poor image of general aviation with such an image. Apparently, in this member’s mind, general aviation consists only of clean-shaven white men. Some members have been equally riled by photos of a well-known pilot/celebrity who has an earring. With so many issues facing general aviation, do we really have the time to deal with such trivial matters?

Another “Instrument-rated long-term member” (no name given) was selected to participate in an online survey after AOPA Summit. Rather than complete it, or simply stop, he took the time to write us a letter (with a footnote) where he said he started the survey. “I answered two screens full of pages, but then said ‘to hell with your survey,’ because: [this in 48 point bold, underlined capital letters] Your survey is just too damned long!”

He continued: “Hope this feedback helps. You’ll get crap from your survey, and you’ve shown your discourtesy and thoughtlessness.”

Really? By asking for your input?

In response to us replacing “Test Pilot” with a staff-developed quiz, a member who describes himself as a middle school special education teacher wrote in to tell us to “take that staff-developed quiz, print it out, and shove it squarely, yet ever so firmly, up your rear end.” To his credit, the member later wrote back to apologize and acknowledge he had crossed a line. Still, I’m not sure I want this guy educating my kids.

As with online forums in many locations, the AOPA forums attract plenty of people with strong opinions. They make for entertaining reading, but it’s a shame when people spout off without even bothering to gather any facts. One member on the AOPA forums started a new thread called this: “AOPA beats the hell out of sweepstakes airplanes.” The thread generated 41 responses and was viewed by 1,348 people as of early January. The poster eventually deleted his initial baseless comments and replaced them with simply “never mind” after other posters reminded him about all the productive ways we use the sweepstakes airplanes over the course of the year, educating nonpilots and pilots alike about general aviation airplanes, including with our Remos, providing a wounded warrior with sport pilot training. Occasionally sanity reigns, even on the forums.

The annual awarding of our sweepstakes airplane brings out the conspiracy theorists. The forums, letters, and e-mails we get suggest some people believe that AOPA doesn’t really deliver the airplanes. We apparently squirrel them away somewhere for some other purpose. Although, I’m not sure what that purpose would be given that because of their distinctive paint jobs it would be difficult to fly them anywhere without being noticed. (I often think these are the same people who believe that the Apollo moon landings were shot in a Hollywood studio.) But that’s only the beginning. Others believe that we somehow hand select the winners for some purpose, as if we care who wins the airplanes. Some argue that it seems that only aircraft owners win the airplanes. Half of all AOPA members own an airplane outright or in partnership. Statistically, then, about eight of the winners of our 17 sweepstakes airplanes should have been owners. In fact, only five have been owners.

Sore losers in all seriousness often suggest that we somehow put restrictions on the sweepstakes to only allow people meeting certain criteria to win, such as non-owners, those of only certain financial means, those without any sort of letters attached to their name (such as MD, PhD, Esq., etc.). Not so coincidently, the people remaining in the pool often look a lot like the letter writer. Never mind that strict sweepstakes rules that vary from state to state and that are carefully monitored by attorneys general nationwide prohibit any such restrictions.

As I ponder what brings out the general crankiness of pilots, several things come to mind. The dismal state of the economy, especially as it pertains to general aviation, may contribute to the foul mood that drives people to fire off thoughtless and destructive messages. Perhaps it’s the political landscape that causes people to fear the future and frustration to well up. Maybe it’s the impersonal way we communicate today. It’s easy and quick to fire off an e-mail or post a forum comment without taking the time to reflect on the fact that a real person is going to read what is written. Those e-mails don’t go to some blind e-mail box. There’s a human being on the other end.

Toni Mensching, who heads up the AOPA team of specialists that answer the technical questions in members’ e-mails and calls summed up the mood and our frequent response recently in an internal e-mail a few months ago: “General member frustration and intolerance is beginning to seep into everyday contacts. The cause seems less to do with AOPA specifically and more to do with upcoming elections, economic turmoil, and an overall stress on aviation from all directions. There is increasing pressure from members contacting us venting about problems very distantly related to AOPA.  This is an unavoidable result of high AOPA accessibility. Easily getting a live, caring person on the line at AOPA gives members the ability to immediately share their frustrations with us, when they would otherwise hit a few barriers at other companies. Compassion is the only product we have for these members.”

With the start of a new year, how about we all take a deep breath and recognize that no matter how difficult today’s general aviation situation, we are still so much better off and freer to fly than pilots in just about any other country. Careless and destructive comments only tend to divide our ranks. Instead, we should be providing constructive comments that help us all get behind the big issues that threaten to derail general aviation as we know it. User fees have gone quiet, but not away. Avgas faces an uncertain future. Airport funding at the federal and state level will be thoroughly challenged in coming years. Our aging air traffic infrastructure is stuck in the 1940s. The pilot population is in decline. These are all issues that require focused, creative solutions. Together we can solve these problems. Or we can bicker among ourselves about hairstyles and the length of surveys. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather work together to assure a positive future for general aviation.

At the end of each year, I like to take a long look at my logbook and flight receipts for the previous 12 months, calculate how much money I spent, how many hours I flew, and what type of flying I did. That tradition also brings with it a flood of memories, as various flights filled with special meaning grace the pages of my logbook.

This year was a mixed bag. I spent less money per flight hour, but I also flew a lot less—only 53 hours in my logbook this year. However, I had many opportunities to do different types of flying.

The year started out on a high note, with earning my commercial pilot certificate in January. In April, I had the opportunity to race in AOPA’s Road and Runway Rally, driving a Smartcar and flying AOPA’s 2010 Sweepstakes Fun to Fly Remos GX from Maryland to Florida for Sun ‘n Fun. The highlight? Opening the show April 13 with a low pass. I experienced flight in a couple of new aircraft—a Helio Courier and a hot air balloon.

But the year also brought my most difficult moment in aviation, the death of my boss Chris O’Callaghan. Chris was killed in a midair collision during a soaring competition in Texas in August. (See AOPA’s tribute to Chris). Losing someone I had worked with for two years and saw more often than my family was extremely painful. In addition to the personal loss, the fact that he was a fellow pilot and was killed in an aircraft accident made the situation even more difficult. The first few weeks after the accident, I lost all interest in flying. When I would force myself to fly, I would get nervous if more than one aircraft was in the traffic pattern at once. However, I continued to go flying, whether with my father or with my friend and flight instructor I worked with to earn the commercial certificate, until I once again felt comfortable in an aircraft. I knew it was what Chris would have wanted.

After that, I tried to honor Chris in my own way by taking others up for their first flight in a general aviation aircraft (Chris was very passionate about introducing people to aviation). Sharing the gift of flight—with a sixth grader, my grandmother, and a nonpilot coworker—helped to bring back the joy of flying.

This fall, I experienced a new high—aerobatics—while working on an upcoming feature for AOPA Pilot. After each of the three lessons—filled with loops, hammerheads, rolls, Immelmans, Cuban eights, snap rolls, spins, and the split-S—I walked away with a grin almost as big as the one I wore after my first solo.

As I reflect on the year, I can’t help but look forward. I’m already planning  for the challenges I hope to face next year.

Loops and rolls have proven so enticing that I want to work toward my tailwheel endorsement and sharpen my aerobatic maneuvers so that I can rent the Citabria and introduce some fellow friends and pilots to aerobatic flight.

I also plan to earn my flight instructor certificate next year. The first step—passing the Fundamentals of Instructing written exam—is already complete. My hat goes off to all of you flight instructors out there. I’ve been lucky to work with professional instructors who inspired me to go further in aviation, and I plan to work my tail off to make sure I do just as well for my future students.

What were your highs and lows in aviation this year? What are your aviation-related end-of-year traditions? And most importantly, what do you hope to add to your logbook in 2011?