Alaska calling

March 13th, 2013

The June issue of Flight Training, going to press this week, Juneauis full of great content about the great state of Alaska. Pilots can’t get enough about Alaska (and can’t stop dreaming about going there, flying there, living there, or working there). Maybe it’s because general aviation is so entrenched in the state because there’s almost no other means of transportation for many communities. Maybe it’s the allure of the bush-pilot lifestyle, whatever that may be. Maybe it’s the endless possibilities of where you can land: water, snow, a glacier, gravel. I don’t know; you tell me what it is in the Comments section.

But anyway, as I was saying—Alaska! The photo you see is one I took from the left seat of a modified Cessna 150 in June 2008, somewhere near Juneau. I was midway through a weeklong cruise from Seattle, and I knew that the 12 hours our cruise ship was docked at Juneau was the only window I’d have to do some affordable flying. (Much as I wanted to do a glacier flight, that wasn’t in the budget. But if you can afford one, do it and tell me how it went.)  So I went on the Internet, found a flight instructor, called him from Maryland, and scheduled some dual. Two weeks later, he picked me up in downtown Juneau, drove me to the airport, and I had the most memorable 1.3 hours of flying of my life at that point.

The scenery was spectacular. The flight instructor pointed out several little sand bars and gravel strips. We overflew a 1,900-foot gravel strip that from 200 feet looked like a dirt path made by a couple of four-wheelers. For $168, I considered my flight a bargain.

Editor Ian J. Twombly has fond memories of Alaska, too. It’s where he got his seaplane rating–an experience he describes in this 2005 article (see the sidebar, but read all of Katie Writer’s discussion of what’s involved in becoming a bush pilot).

Do you have Alaska dreams? Better yet, do you have Alaska memories? If so, share them in the Comments section. The June issue of Flight Training starts shipping to homes on April 4; digital subscribers will see it a on March 28.—Jill W. Tallman

 

Climb segments

March 7th, 2013

In the airline world, there are a number of new rules, limits, and terms a pilot needs to learn. One area in which a new understanding needs to be had is in the takeoff.

Gone are the days when, as a general aviation pilot, you can just eyeball the runway, the load, the airplane, measure the wind with your thumb, and go for it. When you are flying passengers and cargo for hire, you need to be able to comply with the segmented climb. Specifically—-and this is key—-you need to be able to meet the climb requirements on a single engine (assuming you are flying a twin-engine jet) as a result of an engine failure at V1 [takeoff decision speed, but a beyond the scope of this post]. It is assumed that you will meet all the requirements if every engine is running.

The first segment is short—it ends when the airplane is airborne and the gear is retracted. Not partially retracted, but fully up-and-locked retracted. The airspeed must be up to V2, commonly known as “takeoff safety speed,” but in technical terms, the speed for best climb gradient.

The second segment requirement is often the most difficult one to meet. Segment two begins when the gear is up and locked and the speed is V2. This segment has the steepest climb gradient: 2.4 percent. This equates to a ballpark figure of around 300 feet per minute, and for a heavy airplane on a hot day with a failed engine, this can be a challenge. Often, when the airlines announce that a flight is weight-limited on hot summer days, this is the reason (the gate agent doesn’t know this kind of detail, and nor does she care; she just knows some people aren’t going).

The magic computers we use for computing performance data figure all this out, saving us the trouble of using charts and graphs. All we know is that we can either carry the planned load or we can’t.

Second segment climb ends at 400 feet, so it could take up to a minute or more to fly this segment. Think of all the obstacles that might be in the departure path in the course of 60 seconds or more.

Third segment climb begins at 400 feet, and here the rules can vary. The climb gradient is now half of what it was before: 1.2 percent. However, we are also required to accelerate to a speed called VFS (final segment climb speed). In graphs and publications, the third segment of the climb is often depicted as being a flat line for the acceleration. In many turboprops, that’s exactly the way it’s flown. The airplane is leveled off (and the pilot is using a very tired leg to overcome the increasing yaw tendency via the rudder) and accelerated before the final climb begins.

In jets, however, there is generally enough power in the remaining engine to avoid a level-off. If the airplane can continue to accelerate during the third segment, it may continue to climb, so long as it can do so without a decrease in speed or performance. In fact, during the climb it must continue to meet the climb gradient while accelerating to VFS.

Third segment climb ends upon reaching VFS.

The fourth and “final segment” begins upon reaching VFS and completing the climb configuration process. It is now permissible (and maybe necessary) to reduce thrust to a Maximum Continuous setting. The climb gradient is again 1.2 percent, and VFS must be maintained to 1,500 feet above field elevation.

V1 cuts and single-engine climbs are a staple of turboprop and jet training. It is critical that a pilot of such equipment understand what the objective is when it comes to performing the maneuver, and why the requirements are what they are. This material is taught in much greater detail in ground school than I presented here. In fact, there may be a few deviations and exceptions to the above, as this is a general introduction (there are, like many things in aviation, always caveats, so bear that in mind).

Some pilots dread V1 cuts, but the best way to approach them is to take them as a challenge and constantly push yourself to master them and excel in your performance.

Climb safely!—Chip Wright

The February “Since You Asked” poll: 55 hours, no solo

March 4th, 2013

Whenever I hear about people who log 30 or more hours just to get to solo, it hurts my heart a little. Flying isn’t cheap, and the more time that Hobbs meter racks up, the more a student must be looking at his or her bank balance and starting to wonder, Why am I doing this again?

Rod Machado has noted a trend in which student solos seem to be taking longer, and it’s not always attributable to the usual reasons. In his February 2013 “Since You Asked” (“Forever to Solo”), a student pilot whose frustration practically leaks out onto the page asked for advice.

 He had 55 hours (the previous 30 to 40 had been spent in the traffic pattern). He said his landings were “pretty much always the same.” He said he tended to flare a bit low, but had never had any landings that were dangerous. “Whenever I mention the fact that I have an excessive amount of presolo hours and I am running out of money to any of the CFIs, my concerns are immediately dismissed. I’ve been told that counting hours is bad and that everyone learns at their own pace. If I press the issue, the CFIs usually get mad.” He walked away from the flight school and wondered if he’d done the right thing.

We asked digital subscribers to put themselves in this student’s shoes. What would you have done?

  • 51 percent would talk to the chief flight instructor.
  • 31 percent would ask another CFI to fly with them and get his or her opinion on their landings.
  • 13 percent would do as the student eventually did—walk away and find another flight school.
  • 4 percent would have done something else entirely.

Of course, we’re only hearing the student’s side, and Rod knows that. In his response, he proposed several possible explanations for why this student has spent such a long time in the pattern, and number one was “[Y]ou might be the problem.”

Assuming there was nothing wrong with the student’s ability to learn at a normal pace, Rod also threw out some other possiblities: The CFI didn’t know how to teach him how to land; or the CFI didn’t know it’s possible to solo someone with normal landing skills in a simple airplane in under 20 hours of flight time; or the CFI doesn’t understand the purpose of the solo.

What would you have done? If this was your experience in private pilot or sport pilot training, what did you do?—Jill W. Tallman

“Since You Asked” polls appear monthly in the digital edition of Flight Training. If you’d like to switch your magazine from paper to digital at no additional charge, go here or call Member Services 800-USA-AOPA weekdays from 8:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Eastern.

Photo of the Day: Beech Sierra 200

March 1st, 2013

 

 This isn’t just any Beech Sierra 200—it happens to be the very first one off the production line. At the time Mike Fizer shot this photo, the Sierra 200 was owned by Hamilton Rial III of Austin, Texas.

Senior Editor Al Marsh gave the Sierra a once-over for his July 2005 AOPA Pilot article, “Budget Buy: Cargo Sierra,” which you can read online. In it, he notes some of the airplane’s attributes—it has six seats (or four seats and a huge cargo area); a large cabin with twin front doors (for 1971 and later models )—and some of its lesser qualities: Parts are scarce and expensive; cabin noise is high; and the airplane isn’t known to be a speed demon.—Jill W. Tallman

Photo of the Day: Red Baron Squadron

February 27th, 2013

There’s something thrilling about formation flying—especially when it’s pulled off by professionals who make it look like the art form it truly is.

Here you see three of the four Red Baron Squadron Stearmans in flight. Does Red Baron Squadron sound familiar? It should—the airshow act was once the living aviation embodiment of Red Baron frozen pizza. Sadly, Schwan Foods disbanded the airshow performers in 2007. You can read Senior Editor Al Marsh’s account of how the Red Baron Squadron practiced and performed in this article from AOPA Pilot.

Exemption 3585

February 26th, 2013

If the airlines didn’t fly every time the weather was less than ideal, they’d never fly. As a result, technology and rules are in place to maximize efficiency and opportunity while minimizing risks. One example lies in getting airplanes off the gate when the weather at the destination is forecast to be below minimums.

Like everyone else, the standard IFR 1-2-3 rule applies: If the weather at the destination from one hour before to one hour after the ETA is forecast to be less than 2,000 feet and three miles, an alternate is required. This is no big deal, obviously, and many of us have left with the weather forecast to be right at the minimums for the approach.

However, sometimes the forecast calls for a possibility of weather that is going to be temporarily below the landing minimums. In FAA weather lingo, we call this “conditional phrases,” and they consist of BCMG, PROB, and TEMPO. For example, the main body of the forecast may have the visibility at one-half mile, but a TEMPO phrase may show a possible drop to on-quarter mile at the ETA.

When this happens, the airlines that have been granted approval to do so can use what is called Exemption 3585. Under the terms of the exemption, the flight will be required to have not one, but two alternates. Further, the method used to determine the alternates is changed as well.

Remember, the airlines do not use the 600-2 and 800-2 rules that GA use for determining the suitability of an alternate; the rules for determining a Part 121 alternate are beyond the scope of this post, but suffice it to say, it’s possible that an airport could be an alternate as long as the forecast is calling for weather of at least 400 feet and one mile.

Under Exemption 3585, the forecast (again, we can use conditional phrases) at the ETA for the first alternate must call for a forecast of no worse than one-half the visibility and ceiling required for the approach. In our example of a 400 and one, the weather at the first alternate can’t be forecast to be less than 200 and one-half.

Looking ahead to the second alternate, the FAA has a pretty simple criteria: This one must be essentially a sure thing. The forecast for the second alternate can also utilize conditional phrases. However, this time, the forecast must call for weather—even with conditional phrases—that equal the ceiling and visibility that can be used for the approach. No reductions are allowed. In essence, if the conditional phrases must have such good weather, it stands to reason that the main body is going to be for nearly VFR conditions.

There is one other option: Category 2 approaches. CAT II approaches can be flown with a runway visibility range (RVR)  reading of 1,200 feet—that is, one-quarter mile of visibility. Such approaches are a pretty hair-raising experience. However, CAT II approaches are a significant investment because of the maintenance requirements for the airplanes, and if the airline does not have a great deal of diversions in a calendar year caused by low visibility, CAT II isn’t worth the cost. Exemption 3585 does the trick.

This is a fairly simple explanation, and the variety of possibilities can get complex and tricky, but Exemption 3585—sort of a poor man’s CAT II that was originally put together for People Express—is an indispensible tool, and if you should ever be hired by a regional, you will spend a lot of time in training dissecting Exemption 3585.

The sad thing is that while you while you will spend hours learning 3585, you will rarely use it. In 16 years of airline flying, I have taken full advantage of 3585 fewer than a dozen times. Category II on the other hand….—Chip Wright

Photo of the Day: Sky Arrow

February 22nd, 2013

Some people (well, one pilot) tag this unusual Light Sport Aircraft an “armchair in the sky.” That’s not a slap at its handling qualities, but rather a testament to the amazing view provided by the canopy design. The Sky Arrow 600 is an Italian design with a carbon fiber airframe and a Rotax 912 ULS. The engine is on top, which makes preflighting a bit of a pain, according to AOPA Pilot Senior Editor Al Marsh, who flew this airplane for an article in the April 2007 issue. But he had good things to say about its performance characteristics, particularly in a strong, gusty crosswind, which you can watch on the video that’s embedded in the article. Marsh is seen flying the airplane over the Chesapeake Bay, and that’s the dual span of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in the background.

Chasing the PIN, part II

February 19th, 2013

Flight Training Technical Editor Jill Tallman is applying for a personal identification number that will permit her to fly into the Washington, D.C., Flight Restricted Zone (FRZ) and land at historic College Park Airport. It’s a three-part procedure involving visits to the FAA, the fingerprinting office at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, and the airport within the FRZ.—Ed.

There’s a sort of a rich irony that I, a general aviation pilot, am sitting in a Metro subway car heading to National Airport. My destination this morning is the fingerprinting office at the airport, which is the second step in the process of obtaining a PIN that will allow me to fly to College Park Airport in the Flight Restricted Zone. Ironic, because GA traffic isn’t permitted at National Airport (with certain exceptions—those operators that participate in the DCA Access Standard Security Program may utilize the airoprt). This has been the case since Sept. 11, 2001. But this is where they do the fingerprinting, so here I am.

I get off the Metro and, after a few long hallways and one wrong turn, find my way to the fingerprint and ID office. Here I sign a form that states I have not committed any of a long list of really serious-sounding crimes (including felony assault and treason), and present a check for $27 to a lady behind glass. Then I take my paperwork to another office, where the technician accepts it along with two forms of identification.

She takes a look at my hands and makes a noise I’ve come to recognize when I have to get blood work done and the medical technicians get a look at my small veins. Something’s going to be a problem. She gives me a small amount of a very concentrated hand lotion, which I work into my fingers.

She then places the four fingers of my left hand on the scanning equipment and makes another  noise. “Your hands are very dry and your fingers are small,” she says. Well, no argument there. It’s the middle of winter—which means dry skin. I wash my hands constantly because of the amount of cold and flu germs floating around–which means more dry skin. And small fingers? I’m just as God made me, as the saying goes.

Unfortunately, the dry skin means the scanner is having a hard time scanning the lines of my fingers to create a clear enough image. “Haven’t you ever been fingerprinted before?” the technician asks. Well, no. Apparently it’s a more common practice in hiring now, but it certainly wasn’t the norm when I joined the workforce. I don’t tell the tech that I’m so old school I half-expected the fingerprinting process would require me to put my fingers on ink pads.

She perseveres, but tells me candidly that she expects that I might have to come back for a second try. (Don’t worry, folks; if I do, I won’t make this a four-part series.) I’ll need to check in with College Park Airport after I drop off the paperwork to them to see what the verdict is: thumbs up or thumbs down?—Jill W. Tallman

 

Projecting a professional image

February 14th, 2013

As you prepare for your interview, one of the first things you will undoubtedly do is get your best suit cleaned and pressed, get a haircut, and do whatever else you need to do to present your best appearance. And these are things that you should definitely do.

But have you thought about what you are going to do once you get the job? As you prepare to fly to your interview, pay attention as you walk through the airport or sit in a restaurant or the boarding area. Pay attention to the employees. Look at them as a customer, and look at them as though you were a supervisor.

The unpleasant truth is that too many airline pilots and flight attendants have taken the liberty to stretch the acceptable limits of the dress code.

An easy example is the pilot hat. There are still many airlines that require a hat. Many pilots hate the hats, and you can tell by the fact that they either don’t wear one or keep it stuffed in their suitcases. The fact is, however, that if the hat is a part of the uniform, you are supposed to wear it.

It’s one thing to forget to grab it on the way out the door, so long as that only happens once in a blue moon. It’s something else entirely to just totally ignore it. Stuffing it into the back of the suitcase and only putting it on when the chief pilot is in the terminal is pretty silly. Further, you need to wear it properly. Personally, I don’t understand why any pilot would not wear a hat that they paid $50 to $70 for…but that’s just me.

There are other image issues that you can control. Wearing a clean shirt and pants is obvious, but some pilots will wear their uniforms until they turn to threads. Most companies provide a uniform maintenance allowance as a part of the pay, and you are expected to use that for dry cleaning, replacement pieces, et cetera. Well-cared-for pants will last several years, but shirts can take a beating (the polyester ones, though, last forever). The smart move is to always carry at least one extra shirt in your suitcase, and possibly a pair of pants.

Suitcases and flight kits are another issue. There are some who feel it’s almost a point of pride to walk around with a suitcase or a brain bag that is held together with duct tape and bailing wire. I can tell you from experience that there is little that is worse than having your luggage fall apart as you walk through the airport…on the first day of a four-day trip.

Luggage is one item that you don’t want to save money on. Get good, quality gear, and take care of it. When the zippers get worn, replace them. When the flaps get torn, have them fixed. When a wheel goes bad, put on a new one. Fortunately, with the major luggage brand that pilots use, many of the repairs can be done yourself, and it’s easy to get a loaner to send yours in for repairs.

And for the record, backpacks are not a part of the uniform.

Last but not least is your jacket. More airlines are wearing leather jackets, and they’re great. They’re rugged, durable, comfortable, and they look good. The blazer is still common, especially in spring and fall. You need to maintain that as well and keep it clean. If the stripes—and this is true for the shirt epaulets as well—start to look worn or dirty, they should be replaced. I’ve always made it a point to replace my epaulets every year because the shoulder harnesses turn them black.

Getting to an airline takes an awfully big investment. You owe it to yourself and to your chosen profession to present the best image that you can. Remember, you may be in uniform looking like a slob and bump into a captain at Quizno’s who works for your dream airline—and he may be a recruiter or an interviewer.

If you don’t look like you care about your appearance, you will look like you don’t care about what job you have…or don’t have.

Oh, and keep your hair trimmed and neat.—Chip Wright

Photo of the Day: Greenville, Maine, Splash-In

February 13th, 2013

A Cessna 172 taxies past as an Antilles G21G Super Goose lands in the background at Moosehead Lake.

We can’t resist a beautiful photo of a floatplane, and the Seaplane Splash-in at Greenville, Maine, provides some of the best spotting opportunities on the East Coast. This photo is from the 35th annual Splash-In, held in 2008.—Jill W. Tallman