Posts Tagged ‘professional pilot’

A good time to enter

Thursday, May 5th, 2016

As my oldest daughter begins thinking about college, my thoughts can’t help but wander toward the airlines. She has no interest in pursuing a career in aviation, but if she did, things would certainly be in her favor. We are a few years into the beginning of a major hiring boom. The last time this happened, the airlines (the regionals, anyway) were hiring 250-hour pilots, and they couldn’t find them fast enough. The trend was shut down by the increase in the FAA-mandated retirement age from 60 to 65, along with the recession. The 250 zero-to-hero benchmark was done in by the legislation that came out of the Colgan 3407 crash.

Today, the new low-end pilot has 1,500 hours, and regionals are snapping them up as quickly as possible. In fact, airlines are looking for commitments from prospective pilots before they even finish their training, assuming that they meet certain performance standards.

This is a great time to be entering the training realm or the actual job market. The majors are all trying to hire the same 6,000- or 7,000-hour pilots at the regionals whom they consider to be the most qualified. Those pilots will be gone in short order.

Further, the holes in the major airline hiring net are beginning to get a bit smaller. In the last several months, I’ve come across several pilots who were hired or offered interviews and a few years ago these pilots were considered totally undesirable. One has only a two-year college degree (hired by a legacy major). One has only a high-school diploma, but with a lot of other stuff and life experience to bring to the table. The second candidate was offered a chance to begin the interview process but did not get past the initial computerized assessment. The point is, just a year ago, neither would have been considered.

I spend a lot of time in regional jet jump seats commuting to and from work, and another trend has popped up—one that is not new. The majors are paranoid about their affiliated regionals losing pilots, so they appear to have tried to avoid taking as many from those particular regionals as they can. In other words, Delta appears to be trying not to take as many from Compass as they could, and instead chooses pilots from Envoy or PSA. It’s a zero-sum game, since the same pilots will be hired somewhere no matter what.

Another positive change is that the majors are beginning to show a renewed interest in at least interviewing—if not hiring outright—pilots who have no turbine PIC time. That’s happened on occasion in the past, but it’s been rare. Now, it’s becoming more and more common. Just today I heard of a pilot who has an offer from one major, an interview scheduled with another, and is possibly going to hear from two more regarding interviews.

Pilots coming out of the major flight schools in the next couple of years will be able to sort through their options and figure out which job is the best fit for them. There are a number of criteria to use to help make the decision easier (hint: commuting should not factor into the equation). There are already a few small flow-through programs that would allow a pilot to ensure his/her progression to the majors through a certain regional. This practice will only grow as the need for airmen reaches critical mass.

It is indeed a good time to be entering the industry.—Chip Wright

Pilots behaving badly

Thursday, April 14th, 2016

alcoholwithoutalcholIt has happened again: pilots behaving badly. In the last few weeks, a pilot from one airline was tested for alcohol on the ramp in Detroit; he failed the test. Shortly after, a pilot from another airline was arrested and charged with allegedly running a series of brothels.

Let’s look at these two issues separately.

Flying—or trying to fly—under the influence is a serious offense, but a pilot who has a problem with drugs or alcohol has options and resources available. A treatment program that is jointly run by the unions, the FAA, and the airlines can get a pilot back on track and back to work, though it may take an extended period of time.

It gets complicated when you show up for work already inebriated. There isn’t a lot of patience from anyone—the company, the FAA, your co-workers—when you take the risk of attempting to fly while under the influence. Alcoholism is a disease, and when it’s in gear, you can’t control it. That said, folks have little mercy for a pilot who has a drinking issue, especially since nobody knows if it’s part of a problem or just a one-time event.

When you show up in uniform, many people are looking to see how you’re behaving. Transportation Security Administration agents and company personnel are especially watching you, and the TSA folks are trained to try to get you into a conversation to see if they can smell alcohol on your breath.

Generally speaking, if you fail a breathalyzer, you can expect to be terminated or at the very least suspended. If you know you have a problem, you can try to ‘fess up before the test, but you still have to submit to it.

The pilot who ran the brothels has a different problem. What he did is not something that any airline puts down as a prohibited act—there isn’t enough paper in the world to write down everything a company wants its employees not to do, and some things should just be obvious. That said, the general caveat is that you are not to engage in any act that brings disrepute, bad publicity, or embarrassment to the company, and running brothels—even just being accused of doing so—definitely qualifies.

It’s too soon to know the final outcome of either event, but it’s a safe bet that one or both pilots is done flying, at least for a living. Pilots are fairly high profile people, and we are often held to a higher standard than most other professions. We do something that is perceived as high risk, and that entails a lot of training to master a difficult skill. In turn, we are entrusted with the care of expensive machinery, not to mention the lives of our passengers, which might measure in the hundreds.

In the post-9/11 world, the list of offenses for which you can lose security clearances is longer than ever, and no airline wants to have to defend the decision to employ an individual (or to keep one employed).

Further, nobody wants to read about such embarrassing exploits in USA Today. And in this world of cameras on every corner, nobody wants to see a coworker getting arrested or tested for possibly being drunk. A mug shot is bad enough; video of you stumbling would be even worse. It would also likely be unrecoverable.—Chip Wright

Scatter plans and diversions, Part Two: Looking for lights

Monday, March 7th, 2016

This is Part Two of a three-part post about a single flight from Eagle, Colorado, to Newark, New Jersey, with an unscheduled stop in Albany, New York. Read Part One here. Part Three will appear next week.—Ed.

Thirty minutes after diverting to Albany, New York, we turned final for the ILS 19 at ALB. The visibility had dropped to minimums for the approach, and it was raining. The altimeter was continuing to drop, but the ride on final was surprisingly smooth. The EMB-145 in front of us got in, which was good news. That said, we were primed for a go-around, which would have necessitated at Category II approach on the second try. This was my leg, so I adjusted my seat in order to give myself the best view of the approach lights as soon as possible.

The captain continued making his calls. At 1,000 feet above the airport, I asked him to set the missed approach altitude. I also reviewed the calls for the missed approach out loud for both of our benefit. The 500 foot call is basically an awareness call, and I verified it with a quick glance at my altimeter. Through 400 feet, 300 feet…the captain called “Approaching minimums.” My eyes were fixated outside. Still no ground contact. My hands were ready to disconnect the autopilot and autothrottles, and I quickly did one more mental review of the process.

Suddenly, right in front of us, just as I was turning off the autopilot, the lights came into view, as bright as a Christmas tree. That bought me another 100 feet of legal descent. The autopilot and autothrottles were both off, the runway came into view, and I made one of my better landings.

Now we were up against another clock. Newark was dealing with regular arrivals as well as diversions like ours trying to fit into the arrival flow. Two of us—one flight attendant and me—were potential pumpkins when it came to our duty times. Factoring into this is a cosmic law known as last day/last leg, which states that a trip will go absolutely smoothly until just that time. For reasons known only to the aviation gods, our ACARS (Aircraft Crew Alerting and Reporting System), the computer that communicates with all departments of the company, decided to go on a bit of hiatus. We couldn’t get all of the data we needed to leave. Actually, we couldn’t get any of it. We needed V-speeds, weights, single-engine departure procedures—we needed everything.

Several phone calls between the captain and dispatch took care of most of the issues, and we sorted through the rest on our own. The tower had negotiated an earlier release time for us, and we went to the runway to wait it out. The passengers, meanwhile, were getting antsy. We’d already lost three whose final destination was ALB, and a few more were just running out of patience. We were told to finish taxiing to the runway, but we still had one engine shut down and data to input. I was working as fast as I could.—Chip Wright

Holidays and deadheads

Monday, January 4th, 2016

Airlines pay their pilots and flight attendants to fly. Sometimes it doesn’t work out that way. Schedules are drastically altered around certain holidays, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas. Flights are added, flights are dropped, and schedules are heavily modified. It’s common for crews to spend two nights in some cities when the service is reduced or the equipment that is used to operate the flight is up- or downsized.

The result of this is an enormous amount of deadheading, which is the practice of having crews ride in the cabin with the passengers. It’s never an ideal solution, because the seats are taken out of inventory and can’t be sold. Worse, sometimes the seats have already been sold and passengers have to be bumped, which is never a pleasant outcome for anyone.

Deadheading also is expensive because the crew has to be paid, though some airlines only pay half or three-quarters for time spent dead-heading. Still, it’s an expense, and it adds up. Further, there is also the ramification of FAR Part 117. In days past, the time spent dead-heading did not punish the airline with regards to flight hours lost. Now, deadheading is treated the same as flying when it comes to time spent at work and on duty, so the airlines have to be careful how the dead-heads are scheduled; productivity is lost.

It’s also a headache for gate agents, and it can become one for other crews. Often, certain dead events are considered critical, and if a crew is coming in late from one flight, another may have to be delayed while waiting for the DH crew to show. I’ve been on both ends of this sort of deal, and it’s not a lot of fun. Airlines opt for the DH plan because (on paper) it can save them money to DH crews around versus paying for extra hotels.

On a similar note, a lot of DHs are created by charters. In the regional jet world, NCAA basketball and baseball charters are fairly common because the 50-seat airplane is a perfect match. Often, a crew will DH into the city where the airplane will be (often on the airplane to be used for the charter) and then fly all night moving a basketball team around. When it works out the way it’s supposed to, the airplane winds up back in the same city in which it started, and the crew eventually does a DH home (usually after a rest period in a hotel). While these trips can cost a company some money on paper, those costs are built into the bill for the charter, and charters are very lucrative.

Holiday DHs are just an unfortunate fact of life for everyone. But, as the running joke goes, deadheading is about as easy as the job gets.—Chip Wright

First officer responsibilities

Monday, November 16th, 2015

DC10ChecklistEveryone knows that (almost) every professionally flown airplane has two pilots up front, and the captain is in charge. He or she gets paid the big bucks to make all of the hard decisions and take all of the glory when things go perfectly smoothly.

What are the first officer’s responsibilities?

First, every first officer hates the word “co-pilot,” because that is not the proper term. But moving on.

At the most basic level, the FO is there in case anything happens to the captain. Twice in 2015, airline flights have diverted because of a medical issue with one of the pilots. In one case, the captain died. This is obviously not the norm, but it is a possibility, and with the increase in mandatory retirement age from 60 to 65, it’s not unreasonable to expect that more events like this might occur.

From a duty standpoint, the FO does more than recite checklists and move the lever for the landing gear. Just about every airline and flight department allows the captain to “delegate” certain duties to the FO, and in most cases, it becomes a working assumption that the FO will fulfill these duties. Delegating, per se, doesn’t have to occur. For example, the walk-around is almost always conducted by the FO, and when the weather is lousy, you can pretty much guarantee that the FO will be the one trudging around in the rain and snow to check the outside.

In an environment like the airlines, in which the crew is monitoring two radio frequencies on the ground, the FO will handle most communications on the company “Ops” (for Operations) frequency. This is the frequency used for all non-ATC issues, such as late-arriving wheelchairs, two passengers being assigned to the same seat, catering issues, et cetera. The captain might jump in for a maintenance issue, but the FO usually handles these as well.

In the corporate world or in operations with no flight attendant, the FO is often responsible for tidying up the cabin, disposing of trash, and the like. Fetching paperwork often falls on the FO as well, though at some companies the captain takes care of this so that he or she can review the fuel load and weather with the dispatcher.

In the airplane, crews typically rotate turns flying, and there is no difference in the way the airplane is handled or flown, no matter who is flying. If it’s the FO’s leg, and he wants to deviate 20 miles for weather, then the deviation takes place. The FO generally will run the checklists while taxiing, because the captain is the only one with a steering tiller, but once airborne, the flying pilot is the flying pilot. If something goes awry, company procedures may dictate who does what. Most but not all airlines will allow the FO to continue flying if an emergency develops during the FO’s leg. That said, some situations may arise that require the captain to fly. This is usually a result of aircraft design, and it is not a reflection of the ability of the FO to fly. Nonetheless, the captain always has the option to take over if he or she believes that is the best course of action.

First officers often comment that they work much harder than the captains, and it’s a comment that is actually fairly accurate. FOs often get the grunt work in addition to routine duties. Fair or not, it’s just the way it is, a means of paying the dues. It’s also a learning experience. But when push comes to shove, the FO has just as much authority to question something as a captain does, and if there is something wrong that can only be found on the walk-around, the captain is counting on the FO not only to do the job, but also to do it well.—Chip Wright

Flying with someone you don’t like

Monday, May 18th, 2015

CFI DorkWhen you fly for a living—especially as a part of a crewed airplane—you will encounter all kinds of personalities. Some will strike you as weird or quirky, others as boring or fascinating or blasé. Some, unfortunately, you won’t like.

It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. At the regionals, where flying five or six legs a day is not uncommon, getting along is paramount. And most of the time, it’s easy. You already have one common interest, which is flying (even if one or both of you is not all that enamored with your carrier).

But what happens when you fly with someone whom you just can’t stand? The truth is, it can be a real problem. On a four-day trip, you might fly 20 or so legs, and you’ll be crammed into a room the size of a phone booth with only one other person. And you’ll be stuck.

If you don’t like each other—or if you just don’t like that person—there are a few things you can do. First of all, limit the conversation to flight-related duties such as checklists or approach briefings. Second, believe it or not, might just be to tell the other person that you think it’s best to limit the conversation. Often, this can lead to a discussion about what you don’t like about the other person, which can be an ice-breaker.

What you can’t do is allow your behavior or reactions to cross certain lines, and you can’t allow it to affect safety. While there are stories about pilots coming to blows in a cockpit, fortunately such events are incredibly rare. More likely will be a scenario similar to one that happened involving two pilots I knew. They spent several days flying together, and by the end of the trip they despised each other, simply because they had different personalities.

On one of the final legs, the captain had used the flight spoilers to help him in the descent. But he forgot about them, and the first officer waited until the last minute to say anything. When he did, the captain (angrily) stowed the spoilers and had to deal with an airplane that used up several thousand feet of runway trying to overcome the sudden excess power he had been using.

And that brings me to the third option for dealing with this type of issue. This crew realized at the gate that they had acted unprofessionally and with hostility toward each other for the majority of the trip. They also agreed that they should not fly together again, and they agreed that if they were paired together that one of them would call in sick. Some airlines have a mechanism in place for first officers to avoid flying with certain captains; this one did not. (It’s always the FO who gets to bail, because the captain is the authority figure.)

Another possibility is to go to the chief pilot and simply explain that you can’t work with another pilot. This is a bit of a last resort, but if you simply can’t stand to be in the airplane with someone, you may not have a choice. Chances are, you won’t get more than one of these “free passes,” so make it count.

Many airlines, especially the majors, administer a personality assessment to applicants just to avoid this situation. It’s not  fool-proof, but it does work to mitigate the problem.

Remember, there is a difference in dealing with someone with whom you have no common interests who might be difficult to talk to, and someone who is just so difficult to get along with that you can’t work together. The first thing you need to do is perform an honest assessment of yourself to make sure that you are not the problem. If you believe the problem is the other individual, then you need to start using other tools available to deal with the issue before it gets out of hand or unsafe.—Chip Wright

What is a good…?

Wednesday, January 28th, 2015


I often get asked about various aspects of my job, from what makes one company better than another to what makes a given day better than others. These are some general answers to the question, “What makes a good….”

Schedule: Generally speaking, pilots on reserve will get 11 or 12 days off each month. Line-holders will get 14 to 16, or even 17, and a rare few will get 20. Some regionals require that reserves get at least one block of three or four days off in a row each month. If you’re a commuter, a good schedule is one that allows you to commute in on the first day of the trip and commute out on the last day, so you don’t have to spend time or money on crashpads, hotels, or apartments.

Paycheck: A regional first officer will make from $19,000 to $22,000 the first year. The FO can expect to max out at around $40,000 as a base salary and might earn near $50,000 in some cases with aggressive bidding, trip trades, et cetera. A captain will usually start at around $50,000, and after 15 years or so, he or she can make $100,000. In the future, these individuals will be rare, as most pilots will be moving on well before 15 years of service. However, a $70,000 to $80,000 income is not unrealistic.

Trip: Everyone has an opinion on this, but a large number of the trips are three or four days, with as few as one leg per day, and as many as five. Before FAR 117 went into effect, seven-leg days were not uncommon. Layovers will average 12 to 14 hours, with some much longer and a few shorter. Again, FAR 117 has done much to improve this, requiring crews to have an opportunity to get at least eight hours of sleep, versus the old days in which pilots might have eight hours “free from duty,” which could mean only four to five hours of sleep.

Commute: No commute is good, but some commutes are better than others. If you feel like you just can’t live in base, the best commutes are one-leg commutes. Two- or three-leg commutes are much more time-consuming, very stressful, and no fun. A good commute has a number of options for flights, not just one or two a day. Ideally, there will be some very early flights and some very late flights, both going to work and coming home. One thing I discovered is that a commute that is short enough to leave driving as an option is both good and bad, because you know you can drive if you need to, but you find yourself doing it more than you’d like.

Work rule: The airlines are a union-heavy industry, and all but a few have union contracts. Those contracts spell out the various rules by which the company can utilize the personnel without abusing the personnel, while also giving the company the freedom it needs to move metal. From a pilot perspective, a good work rule is one that ensures you’re getting paid to be at the airport. Believe it or not, there are times when pilots are at the airport not getting paid; in fact, most of the airport time is unpaid. The more you’re paid when at the airport, the more time off you have.

There are a lot of issues that a pilot needs to consider when looking for a job, be it a first job at a regional or a move up the ladder to a major or a cargo carrier. These are but a drop in the bucket of things to consider, and as your knowledge base expands, you’ll learn to understand and ask about far more complicated subjects. This, however, is a place to start.—Chip Wright

The cover letter

Wednesday, August 13th, 2014

As you start looking for your first job—or even if it isn’t your first one—you might be working on your resume and cover letter. What goes on a resume is pretty straightforward: It’s a quantitative and qualitative summary of your experience and the skills you bring to the job.

What about the cover letter? What do you put in the cover letter? What do you not put in the cover letter?

Some of the greatest advice I got about cover letters came from someone who makes a living reading them: A cover letter should not just be a regurgitation of your resume. If that’s all it is, then it is a waste of your time and the time of the person reading it.

Instead, your cover letter should be used to talk about what is not in your resume. Use it as a chance to talk about other experiences or skill sets you offer that may not necessarily be a part of the job, but will help contribute to your performance. For instance, if you coach a sports team or volunteer in a local school, you are demonstrating leadership. In fact, any kind of volunteer work should be highlighted, because companies—not just airlines or flight departments—like to see candidates who do something to give back to the community. It might be that you volunteer in a church, at an animal shelter, or a zoo; it doesn’t matter. You are demonstrating a desire to make a difference and a willingness to give your own time.

Mention other achievements or skills that you might be able to offer within the work place. If you are a certified trainer in something (besides flying), it demonstrates a desire to continue learning and pass on what you know. That, too, is impressive and important.

A cover letter is also a great place to briefly (as in two to three sentences) describe why you want to work for that particular company. That’s hard to do on a resume. Maybe you want to work there because your parents did, or because you grew up in the shadow of its headquarters (or, in the case of an airline, in the shadow of one of its hubs). This is your chance to show your loyalty to a company before you ever set foot in the door. It won’t always work, but you have nothing to lose by trying.

If you are still shy of the minimums for a particular company, use the cover letter to explain what you are doing to close the gap, and give an estimate of how long it will take you to get there. Sometimes, just the enthusiasm and work ethic that you demonstrate can be enough to get your foot in the door.

The cover letter is a bit of a lost art, so if you do it well, it will help you stand above the rest. Use it to your advantage, and keep it to a page or less. And whatever you do, don’t just repeat what is on your resume!—Chip Wright

Letters of recommendation

Monday, July 21st, 2014

One of the tasks involved in getting a flying job—and many other jobs as well—is that of getting a reference or a letter of recommendation (LOR). Airlines are big on the LOR, because it’s one of the few avenues that they have to find out a little bit about you and whether or not you will fit in. If they choose, they can contact the writer and have a fairly candid conversation about you.

When it comes to asking for a letter, there are some points to consider. Keep a running list of people who know you personally as well as professionally. Some of those who know you professionally may not necessarily be people who have seen you fly. They could be your old boss, a secretary, a mechanic, et cetera.

Then there are those who have flown with you. Throughout your career, you should keep tabs on pilots with whom you have flown, because these pilots can vouch for your skills. The more you have flown with them, the better. If you were in an emergency situation with them, definitely keep in touch with them, as they might be willing to talk about how you handled a real-life pressure situation.

The best folks to have in your corner are those in positions of authority or responsibility: chief Pilots, check airman, sim evaluators/instructors, et cetera. As you move up the chain—especially at the regionals—these relationships become key, and you need to cultivate them. That means you need to make an honest effort to keep in touch. But, they need to be able to attest to your overall flying and decision-making skills.

When the time comes, asking politely is the proper form. Do not just say, “I need a letter…” The chances are that if you think enough of someone to ask them, others do as well. Check airmen and chief pilots are constantly being asked to write letters, and each one takes time.

Ask politely, by saying, “If you don’t mind, I am applying for a position with XXX, and a letter of recommendation from you would sure mean a lot to me.” Once that nicety is over, ask if the writer would mind taking a few minutes to recopy the letter into a generic one. That way, you won’t need to go back and ask for one for every job you are applying to. When I am asked to write LORs, I always provide several generic, non-specific signed copies for the individual to use at multiple organizations.

Recognize as well that the content of the letter is only part of the battle. The quality counts just as much. If you have a letter that simply says, “Billy is a good pilot and a nice guy,” it’s not the same as one that goes into some depth about specific flying examples, your character, your personality, and your work ethic. The deeper the letter, the more effective—and rest assured that HR departments everywhere know how to read between the lines.

It’s perfectly OK to ask someone if he or she would mind being a reference in the future, especially if you are still working toward making yourself competitive for the job you want. Being asked to write an LOR is flattering, so most folks are happy to do it. Just make sure that you allow that person ample time to do the job for you.

LORs can have a huge impact on your ability to get a job. Start early, get many, pick the best, and pay it forward.—Chip Wright

BFR, airline style

Tuesday, June 24th, 2014

The FAA being the FAA, everyone has to train. If you want to fly continuously, you are subjected to a flight review every two years. This was once known as the biennial flight review, and many people still refer to it as a BFR. In the general aviation world, the flight review is a chance to for you to review any area in which you are weak, need to practice, or that the instructor wants to emphasize. There is also a requirement for an hour of review on the ground. In the air, you will be required to demonstrate proficiency based on the level of certificate that you hold. In other words, a private pilot will get more wiggle room than an airline transport pilot (ATP), who is expected to be able to fly with hair-splitting precision.

In the world of larger airplanes such as jets and turboprops, it isn’t unusual to be required to undergo some form of more formal training using a simulator or fixed training device. The reason for this is twofold: safety and cost. Larger airplanes are capable of doing V1 cuts, a procedure in which an engine fails at the worst possible time during the takeoff roll, and the pilot(s) continue(s) to fly the airplane, with the intention of dealing with the issue once airborne (this obviously only works on aircraft with two or more engines). Doing the training in the airplane is risky and expensive.

These recurrent training programs are fairly structured, and the process and expectations are the dictate of the FAA, the insurance companies, the manufacturer, and the training agency.

At the airlines, the process is very similar, and if anything, it is more tightly controlled and regimented. While there are variations from one airline to the next, or even between the various fleets of an airline, the intent and purpose are the same.

In the old days—which was less than 20 years ago—a pilot would show up for his recurrent, and be given an oral that could cover just about anything under the sun….and sometimes did. Assuming he passed, he would then get into the sim and, without much of a chance to warm up, would be asked to demonstrate myriad maneuvers and procedures, some of which were sadistic and hopelessly unrealistic. Think of doing a single engine NDB approach in a gale-force crosswind while spinning a basketball on your finger, Globetrotter-style.

Today, the process is much more humane, and therefore productive. Generally speaking, there is some kind of a thorough briefing that, while not really an oral exam, isn’t really not one either. Thanks to the internet, enough training can be done online throughout the year that the need for a comprehensive oral is mitigated. Instead, the instructors use the time to review procedures that the crew doesn’t see in the airplane very often. They also discuss trends that have been tracked through various tracking and safety monitoring programs: airports with a higher-than-normal rate of unstabilized approaches, for example, or airports with known challenges created by short runways, construction, et cetera. It’s a good back-and-forth, as the students can often bring up-to-date information to the table while learning what problems other pilots have in training.

Most airlines conducty two days of sim training. The first day is a chance to practice certain maneuvers (often called “first look,” since they are scored on the first try), while knocking the rust off of the rarely used skills. The second day is typically a flight that is representative of life on the line, but with a few twists thrown in. There is usually a minor mechanical malfunction to deal with, and in order to keep things interesting, the training department will choose a challenging SID, STAR, or approach to fly, or they will make it interesting with bad weather, tailwinds, et cetera. Typically, there are two of these flights, so each pilot can fly— but not always.

The training typically covers whatever is being emphasized through the online training, so if the company is doing training on the fuel system, generally, the fuel system will have a malfunction in the sim.

Fortunately, airline pilots who fly for fun can substitute the Part 135 or 121 training for the flight review, though many will get the occasional BFR anyway, just to stay sharp in the small airplanes as well.

Training in general has come a long way, and will continue to evolve. Like most pilots, I used to have a bit of a sense of dread. Having been through so many training events now, I still prepare accordingly, but I look forward to the chance to review and refresh, not to mention just learning something new.
But as always, when it’s over, I walk away with a sense of relief, knowing that I am done with it for another year!—Chip Wright