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Category: Career flying (page 1 of 13)

Family time

My kids have only known the airline life, with Daddy being gone a good portion of most months. My wife grew up in a more traditional household, but her father worked at least 70 hours a week. Still, he was home every night, whereas I am not.

As you can imagine, this can create some tension at times. But, when I am home, I am truly home, and I have plenty of free time to live and handle life.

When my kids were younger, they would try to fight over who got to spend more time with me when I was home. One of their favorite things was for me to come to school to eat lunch with them, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that there were going to be days when I’d be eating two lunches, and for a while, in different schools. I got pretty adept at packing two smaller snacks, because they didn’t like to think that I had the “better” lunch with the other one. Kids are funny like that.

The monthly juggling act for years was to try figure out how to be home for as many of the kids’ activities as I could, without making one of them feel slighted. It wasn’t always easy, and it often took some planning. One of the most effective ways to deal with it (at least in my house) was to sit everyone down when I was working on my schedule for the following month, and asking who really wanted me around for something. If they had multiple events, they had to tell me the order of importance. I never promised more than I could give, and a couple of events required some help from another pilot or from the chief pilot’s office. And, if I’m being honest, there were one or two sick calls that had to be used in order to be the best parent that I could be.

My kids got pretty good at giving me a heads up about major events that might be anywhere from two to four months or more down the road. I learned to figure out how to interpret the tone of their voices, so I knew which ones were critical and which ones would just be nice. And there were some things that they didn’t place as much importance on as I did, and that’s OK, too.

Birthdays were always a challenge, because birthday parties almost always took place on a weekend, even if the bid day was on a Wednesday. Because they had sleepovers for years, I always made sure that I was home for those so that my wife wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. But as they got older, I’d ask them if they wanted me home for the party or the actual birthday.

Like any other pilot or flight attendant, there were some things that I’ve just had to miss, and that’s just the breaks. But I’ve always tried to prioritize my family, and I dare say that I’ve done well, but it isn’t always easy, especially if someone is sick. But when they look back, I think my kids will be able to say that, when it was really important, Daddy was there. It takes a team effort, and it takes work, but if you want to do it, you can. Even if you have get…creative.—Chip Wright

Resolving conflicts in the cockpit

Any large group of people is going to produce personality conflicts at some point. Throw in the Type A personality and the sizeable egos of most pilots, and it makes us riper for potential conflict than we might like to admit. Given the tight quarters of an airline cockpit, this can be a dangerous situation if it gets too volatile. How does one deal with this? This is a common interview question.

Each major pilot union has come up with a program to help defuse situations before the company gets involved. Because I am a member of ALPA, and that is the one that I’m most familiar with, it is the one that I will use, but the pilots at non-ALPA carriers use similar processes and tools. The ALPA model is called Professional Standards, and like every other committee within the association, it is staffed by volunteers. These men and women are put through a specific training program to help them help their peers.

Let’s say, for the sake of discussion, that one of the pilots has a “personal policy” of deliberately flouting company policy in the airplane. For example, assume that the pilot in question says that he will not do certain checklists as dictated by company policy. This is going to make some pilots very uncomfortable, and it may create a hazard. If the offending pilot can’t be convinced to do things the way they should be done, the affected pilot has two options. One is to go to the company.

But another option is to call someone on the Pro Standards committee and let them try to handle it. Pro Standards pilots do not and cannot act in a disciplinary way. However, what they can do is sort through the details of the conflict, and determine where any wrong (if any) is occurring, and then call and counsel the pilot in question.

The key here is that, sometimes, peer pressure can be every bit as effective, if not more so, than other options. Getting a call from Pro Standards can be something of an embarrassment, especially if it has to do with non-compliance with the company or FAA procedures.

On the flip side, it may be that the pilot who filed the complaint was wrong about something or misunderstood something. If the conflict is a personality clash, then the committee member(s) might be able to offer some ideas and tools for avoiding a conflict in the future. It’s often said that we shouldn’t talk about politics, religion, or sex, and there’s some truth to that. Stick to more basic topics and you can avoid a lot of issues.

There are times, however, when Pro Standards is simply unable to help a pilot correct certain behaviors. Every airline, it seems, has that one person who just can’t get out of his or her own way. If the offending pilot continues to cause trouble, then it might be time to consider getting the chief pilot or other appropriate department heads involved, but you better have your ducks in a row and make sure that it won’t devolve into a mud-slinging contest that will also make you look bad.

Fortunately, most of us get along, even with people that have very different views than we do. But there are those times when two pilots just can’t coexist. There are tools you can use to get through those trying times. Know what they are, and take advantage of them, and your life will be much easier.—Chip Wright

Voting as a pilot

As summer turns to fall, we are getting inundated with advertising for the upcoming elections. Some of us will vote straight party, and others will mix and match. Others may not vote at all, and others will choose based on issues that are near and dear to them. Aviation is one of those areas where there may be some split loyalty.

General aviation pilots and airline pilots have a lot in common and a lot of similar goals: safety in practice, efficient and effective training, and a desire not to burn someone at the stake for a mistake that can be corrected. But there are some differences, and some of those contrasts are sharp. General aviation groups, including AOPA, have long advocated for things like Basic Med, sport pilot, smaller and/or fewer Class B airspace allocations, and other pilot-friendly initiatives, with no tolerance for any talk around user fees. Groups like ALPA, SWAPA, and Airlines for America tend to push for ideas that would, on paper, help the airlines but that could hurt the general aviation segment. User fees are at the top of this wish list, but so are efforts to derail some of the aforementioned concepts.

As a pilot who may be embarking on an airline career, you will eventually be faced with having to make a decision between two pieces of the same puzzle. If you come from the general aviation world, you will have a unique perspective on what GA does and can offer, and it may not always appear to be in agreement with your professional life. I won’t tell you that I have always been in agreement with AOPA, EAA, or NBAA. I haven’t been. But I do know that without a thriving GA sector, our country will not be able to continue to produce the same high-quality, experienced pilots that U.S. airlines need. We have the busiest airspace in the world, and several airspace corridors here have more traffic in a day than some countries do in a week. An airplane is a very dynamic working environment, and that needs to be recognized and accommodated.

But, there are times when the airlines are also wrong. Fighting scientifically based work rules and duty times was one of them. And it is still wrong that those rules don’t apply to cargo pilots, but as of this writing, such is the case.

I can’t tell you every voting scenario you might face as a pilot. I certainly can’t tell you that you should vote for a candidate based on a single issue or series of related issues. But I can tell you that it is critical that you vote, and if you are passionate about flying—be it in a Piper Cub or a Citation or a 747—you owe it yourself to factor aviation into your decision-making process. Maybe it will tip your scale one way or the other. Maybe it won’t. But your vote may.—Chip Wright

Outward looking mastery vs. inward looking precision

Outward looking mastery vs. inward looking precision: musings about the differences between Commercial and Instrument flight

In 2017 I decided it was the year to complete my long started, then stopped, then re-started process of attaining my instrument rating.  I chronicled the process in Gotta get that Rating.  2020 dawned with promise of the commercial certificate and we all know what happened to those promises.  Yet on July 5th 2020 I passed my commercial check ride in the beautiful Columbia River Gorge, where I learned to fly some 18 years ago.

Inward focused precision

I recently flew another round-trip to Oregon which was 90% IMC due the massive wildfires.  My route was pretty much right up the gut of California, in between the TFRs and on in to Oregon.  The situation in the Northwest wasn’t much better as wind driven wildfires began to pop up in Central Oregon.  Hand-flying 5 hours on instruments in my Mooney M20E with no autopilot is mentally exhausting.  On the way to my fuel stop I was given delay vectors and a hold for the [RNAV] approach. The airport was covered in dense smoke with visual contact only 30 feet above minimums.  I was never so happy to see a VASI.  I flew the ODP out and was happy to finally get above the smoke at 8K. The visibility on the trip home was much worse.  In the 5.5 hours of flying I only had ground reference for the first and last 30 minutes of the flight.  As I shot the RNAV into fuel stop [Yuba airport] I was just so grateful that I had great flight instruction, a solid IFR platform in the Mooney, and the ability to focus my attention [mostly] inside the airplane.

Flying in IMC requires extensive planning,  mental discipline, ability to follow instructions from ATC, and constant focus on your instrument scan.  In contrast the commercial relies on the artistry of looking outside, focusing on smooth flying and planning for the safety and comfort of your passengers.  In no way am I saying that instrument and commercial flying don’t share characteristics, but for me, it seems like I am using different parts of my brain for the nuanced differences.

Outward focused mastery

On one of the last days of my commercial training I was flying from the LA Basin [Fullerton] to French Valley [F70] airport.  I had done some of the planning for this short hop noting the location of the freeways, surrounding terrain, lake, and direction of the airport from town.  As usual, I had my IPad on with Foreflight, and the 530W proudly displaying the magenta line to F70. About ten minutes into the flight my instructor, Mike Jesch, fiendishly turned the 530 to another page and disabled the geo-referencing on the IPad.  He said, “Now what are you going to do?”  What I did next was an example of my instrument training as I slowed the airplane down, centered VORs and triangulated the location of the airport based on radials.  It took me at least two minutes of looking out, then in, out then inside.  Mike gently said, “Is there anything else you could be looking at, perhaps outside?”  Then it dawned on me to locate the freeway I was following, to identify the hills before the airport and the lake that was off in the distance. I also noted that if this was a real situation on a commercial flight, I would have let ATC know of the failure and asked for a vector to confirm what I was seeing on the ground.

When in doubt, look out

Flying to commercial standards is all about smoothness, precision, and planning for passengers.  Training was intensive and consisted of the learning and demonstration of the elements included in the ACS.  Folks had told me that I would love flying the “fun” commercial maneuvers [chandelle, steep spiral, lazy 8, 180 power off landing, steep turns, 8s on pylons etc.].  I didn’t really experience the “fun” part of it until the very last day of training with Mike.  As I was demonstrating elements for my check ride prep, I found myself zooming down during a lazy 8 and thought, “Yeah, this is fun being totally in control of this airplane.”

Yes! This is fun.

As I prepared for my Commercial check ride, there was a distinct change in my thought process from “do as you planned, or are told by ATC” instrument flying toward what I call, “Pro-Pilot” thinking. My DPE gave me the following cross-country scenario:

So much for an easy fire season– lightning has sparked a big wind-driven fire over by Sandpoint, ID, causing a bit of a panic. Newly hired by a Part 135 group that has extensive Forest Service contracts, you have been tasked to fly two Incident Commanders from your base, The Dalles OR (KDLS), to the Sandpoint airport (KSZT) in your aircraft, where they will join the hastily assembled Hot Shot crews waiting to take on the fire. You have recently noticed that your turn coordinator has been really noisy on startup, but you have not had an opportunity to have it checked out. The firefighters think they weigh around 180lbs and plan on taking roughly 60lbs of gear each. They really need to be in Sandpoint by noon, so plan accordingly.

 As a private pilot you would, of course, think about inoperative equipment, weight, fuel, weather and routing, but as a Pro-Pilot I planned around:

  • passenger comfort
  • weighing passengers and luggage
  • loading of passengers/bags for CG
  • prevailing weather, wind, smoke conditions
  • scenic , yet efficient route
  • communication with passengers re: expectations of flight
  • route with less potential for turbulence
  • instrument currency/approaches if needed
  • route near airports/highways
  • choosing alternate airports with rental cars, calculated driving distance
  • timing details to get the firefighters to Sandpoint by noon

It goes without saying that the instrument and commercial check ride differed greatly. However, knowledge of systems, safe practices, and aeronautical decision making were very much the same.  Instrument flying is challenging due to the lack of visual cues and intense focus inside the airplane.  Commercial flying is challenging because you must focus on the safety and comfort of your passengers, who see an airplane as merely a mode of transportation.

Gaining my instrument rating made me a better, safer, pilot.  The rating has increased the quality of my flying life.  The commercial certificate opens up the pro-pilot part of my flying career.  Both have changed me for the better.  Now I am focused on the multi-engine Commercial rating in late September. Then I promised myself I would get the rest of 2020 for fun flying.

Remember that a great pilot uses both mastery while looking outside the airplane and thoughtful precision while looking inside.  Whether you are thinking about getting a new rating or certificate or purchasing a plane or club ownership this time, where we are home-based might be the perfect opportunity. I hope to see you all out there in 2021.

 

 

Jolie Lucas makes her home on the Central Coast of CA with her mini-Golden, Mooney. Jolie is a Mooney owner, licensed psychotherapist, and commercial pilot working on her multi-engine. Jolie is a nationally-known aviation presenter. Jolie is a nationally published aviation writer. Jolie is the Vice President of the California Pilots Association. She is the 2010 AOPA Joseph Crotti Award recipient for GA Advocacy. Email: [email protected] Web: www.JolieLucas.com Twitter: Mooney4Me

Some of the new normal

As I write this, we are five months plus into the COVID-19 saga. As you already know, it has had a devastating impact on a number of business sectors, with the airlines being among the hardest hit. In response to the virus as well as the concerns of the passengers, there have been some changes, and there is a chance that some of these—if not all—will become permanent changes.

First and foremost is the way the airplanes are cleaned. Prior to COVID, the concept of an electrostatic sprayer was totally foreign to travel. Now, it is quickly becoming commonplace. In addition, more deep cleaning is taking place when the planes aren’t flying. A recent change implemented for at least two airlines calls for running the auxiliary power unit (APU) on the ground more than was the previous practice. The aircraft all have HEPA filters, and the onboard air conditioning system can cycle the air from the whole plane in a matter of minutes. The conditioned air from the jetway isn’t HEPA-filtered, although that may well change in the future as well, especially as the fuel bills for the APUs mount.

Currently, employees are subjected to daily temperature checks, and some are even expected to take their own thermometers to work in order to self-administer daily temperature checks. Chances are that this practice will go away in time, but for now, it is part of the new normal.

Due to the severe decrease in flying, aircraft are being rotated in and out of storage. Airplanes are designed to fly, and sitting doesn’t do them any good. While it is possible to catch up on any lingering maintenance issues, flying is the best maintenance of all. Not every plane in every fleet will get used, but rotating them in and out of service can keep more of them flying and ease the transition back to normal operations as demand returns.

Food service has changed as well. There are no cooked meals or any meals that require personal handling such as salads or fruit. Currently, pre-packaged snacks are the only option for most passengers, and this isn’t likely to change until there is a reasonable degree of certainty that we have reached herd immunity or widespread use of a vaccine.

The most obvious change is the requirement to wear masks. Airline employees are currently expected and required to wear masks pretty much whenever they are in uniform or on the clock. This is both for the protection of the employee and those they interact with, as well as a way to encourage passengers to wear theirs. I’m sure the mask requirement will eventually ease, but I would not be surprised if there is a requirement to have a mask handy to use in case someone shows signs of illness, even if it’s just a cold. In addition to the masks, more and more plexiglass dividers are showing up, but those may or may not remain later.

The new normal in the future will likely consist of at least the enhanced cleanings, and possibly some changes in air filtration systems. All of this will be reflected in the price of tickets, but it will all be in the name of safety. This will be especially true as scientists and doctors get more and more data about the behavior of the coronavirus. All we can do is wait and see.

Special engine out procedures, Part 2

There is an old adage that says that being a single-engine pilot minimizes your decision making in an emergency, and there is some truth in that. If your only engine fails, you’re landing.

In a multiengine airplane, you may or may not have options. In a turbine-powered airplane, assuming you have properly loaded the plane and give due deference to published performance data, you will indeed have options. This is especially true on takeoff.

In the FAR Part 121 world that is the airlines, there are certain performance criteria that an airliner must be able to meet, and one of them is the ability to comply with the four segment climb in the event that an engine fails during the takeoff. Most of the time, this isn’t a problem. A properly trained crew can lose the use of one engine, maintain control of the plane, and fly it off the ground safely and figure out where the best place to land will be.

Sometimes, though, terrain or obstacles (or both) preclude the straight-out departure. In this case, there needs to be an alternative procedure. The airlines and manufacturers work the engineers to produce viable options.

These are then tested in the simulator (and probably in a few cases in the real airplane). The procedures are then tweaked and validated and are published. However, they aren’t available in the public domain, because each procedure is ‘owned’ by the airline and/or the manufacturer. Jeppessen, which is the primary producer of aeronautical charts, publishes the procedures as “10-7” pages. And it’s possible that two companies flying the same airplane may have different procedures at the same airport.

Common airports for 10-7 pages, also known as special engine-out procedures, are Las Vegas, Phoenix, or Reno. Most of the time, the issue is terrain, but not always. In a few cases, like Washington National, there may be another issue. Departing Runway 1 at DCA, the issue is Prohibited Area 56 and the fact that a straight-out departure would put you square in the middle of the airspace that protects the White House and the U.S. Capitol.

But terrain is the most common driver of 10-7 development. When I was at the regionals, we had a 10-7 page for Reno that was incredibly complex. The only way to really fly it safely was to brief the first turn and the associated altitude, and then plan on having the nonflying pilot provide a progressive reading of the steps as the flying pilot attempted to fly. In a place like Reno or Vegas, the weather is almost always VFR, so you can plan to maintain visual separation from the rocks. But this isn’t always the case.

Here’s the rub: 10-7 pages are not something the tower is going to be familiar with, so if you have to fly a single-engine procedure, you’ll need to tell the tower that you’re going to be flying a company-specific procedure due to an engine failure. In a high-traffic area, this can get exciting. The best thing you can do is tell the tower to stand by, and do what you need to do to get to a safe altitude and a place where you can trouble-shoot and figure out your plan for getting back on the ground.

A couple of other notes about 10-7 pages: They are often used for a single-engine missed approach as well; and different fleets at airline X may well have different procedures. In fact, it’s possible that some fleets will need a 10-7 page, and others will not.

As a new airline pilot, you can expect an early introduction to 10-7 pages and how to brief them. You’ll also likely get a taste of at least one in the simulator. But, better to see it there for the first time than on the line!—Chip Wright

This is part 2 of a two-part series. See Part 1 here.-–Ed. 

Special engine out procedures, Part 1

Every summer, it seems, there are days where the temperatures somewhere are hot enough that the media has reports that airplanes can’t take off. It is easy to scratch your head and ask how it is that an airliner can’t depart, even in a high density altitude environment. The most common place for this seems to be Phoenix.

Two things can drive this. The first is pretty simple: Hotter temps mean higher ground speeds for takeoff, and those speeds can mean that the speed limits for tires can be exceeded. Knowingly exceeding a limitation is never acceptable, and the result is usually a cancelled takeoff, or more likely, a reduced payload to reduce the speeds.

The second issue is performance once airborne. But it isn’t the all-engine performance that is the issue. It is single-engine performance, and more specifically, it is the single-engine performance that would be required when losing an engine at the worst possible time, which is right at the speed known as V1.

V1 is known as the takeoff decision speed, but more accurately, when the speed reaches V1, the crew is committed to taking off, with very rare exceptions (I know of one crew that aborted after V1 because the elevator was jammed). The FAA requires that manufacturers of FAR Part 25 certified airplanes be able to demonstrate that a takeoff can be safely continued after losing an engine at V1. They further define the climb segment as being four distinct segments, all of which have certain requirements: liftoff to 35 feet; 35 feet to 400 feet; an acceleration segment; and 400 feet to 1,500 hundred feet.

Further, all of this must be done while meeting certain climb gradient criteria without violating any of the TERPS parameters. One of the challenges comes with what can best be described as “non-standard” climbs. These can (and often are) be driven by obstacles or terrain in the departure path. This is especially true if an airport has been shoe-horned in or if the area around the field has been developed in such a way that it is no longer in compliance with FAA criteria.

When you learn to compute airline performance data, you aren’t all that concerned with all-engine performance. You are instead concerned with how to meet each of the four segments of climb. You may not know exactly where the TERPS concern is, but you know that something in the departure path is an issue, or that the runway is too short to accommodate the necessary acceleration after losing an engine at V1.

In my next post, I will discuss the work-around for some of these challenges, known as special engine out procedures. These procedures are essentially an alternate method of compliance that allow for the maximum possible payload (and revenue) without compromising safety. You don’t need to be Chuck Yeager to fly these safely, but you do need to thoroughly review and brief what the steps are, and be prepared for the unlikely to become your new reality.—Chip Wright

The humble O2 mask

Most passengers—especially frequent travelers—don’t pay much attention to the flight attendant safety briefings. That said, there is actually some good information being passed along, and as a potential professional pilot, it would be wise to start learning some of it yourself.

For instance, how much attention have you paid to the discussion about the oxygen masks falling from the ceiling? You might know that you need to put the mask on during a depressurization situation, but did you pay any attention to the particulars? If not, you should.

The oxygen that you will breathe during a depressurization actually isn’t on the airplane yet. It has to be produced, and guess who does that? You do.

Every jet uses some kind of a pressurization controller to maintain cabin altitude. If the cabin climbs above a certain setting (around 14,000 feet msl), the controller will (should) release the “rubber jungle” into the cabin. If the automatic system fails, the pilots can manually deploy the masks, but first they need feedback from the flight attendants that the masks didn’t fall. If there are a few units that don’t work, the flight attendants can use a tool to pop open the doors of the unit that is right over your seat.

Once the masks are out, there is a catch: Oxygen isn’t generated until you pull the mask toward you. You actually need to give it a little tug, because the hose is attached to a pin that needs to be tripped. When you give that mask a tug, the pin activates a chemical reaction that will then produce the oxygen that you will breathe. This is why you’re told that you should put on your mask first and make sure it’s activated. If the cabin depressurizes at a high altitude, there won’t be much time of useful consciousness, and if you can get your mask working, then you can help a child or someone next to you.

Once the canister is activated, it generates a tremendous amount of heat, so you don’t want to reach up and touch it. It can—and will likely—also produce a bit of a burning or foul odor. You don’t want to mistake that for a possible fire. It is instead a sign that the system is working as advertised. There may also be a bit of dust or smoke, both of which can generally be ignored.

What the flight attendants don’t tell you is this: The canisters only produce enough oxygen for around 12 minutes of breathing, though you may be able to get 15 minutes out of it. Worse, the oxygen is a continuous flow. It doesn’t matter how deeply or slowly you breathe. The good news with that is that if you (or a seatmate) pass out, air is available. The bad news is that if you pull down on two masks at once, you will still only have the 12 minutes of air to use. So, if you are in a row of three seats by yourself, you might have 36 to 45 minutes of air to use if you use them consecutively.

Why so little time? The assumption is that a depressurization at altitude is going to be followed by an immediate and rapid descent to (preferably) 10,000 feet. Since passenger jets are limited to 41,000 feet, the crew would be trying to lose 31,000 feet. In 12 minutes’ time, that works out to around 2,600 feet per minute, which should be very easy to do. Keep in mind that this is a worst-case scenario, because very few full jets can reach FL410.

So, next time you board, pay attention to the safety briefing. There are nuggets of information in there that really can save your life. And in this case, they will also be on a checkride if you are looking to fly professionally.—Chip Wright

Onboard fires

Considering that the two worst things that can happen on a passenger jet are a fire or a structural failure, fire detection and extinguishing are significant parts of airplane design and emergency equipment.

There are fire detection systems in the engine and APU compartments, as well as in the cargo bins and various locations in the cabin (think of the lavs). There are also overheat detectors in the wheel wells, but generally with no extinguishing capability.

There are also extinguishers on board. There is always a fire extinguisher in or near the flight deck for the crew. The cabin is also equipped with multiple extinguishers based on the number of people the plane can seat.

Two types of extinguishers generally are carried on board. The red canister that you might have in your home or see in your place of work or school is one of them, and it is equipped with Halon. Halon is the preferred option if the fire is electrical in nature, and it works by smothering the flame and depriving it of oxygen as quickly as possible. Because it is also compressed gas, it is cold, which helps to cool the temperature quickly around the source of the flame. The risk for the user is that, in a confined area, a chemical extinguisher may displace the oxygen you are breathing.

Water fire extinguishers are less prevalent, but they are only used for what are termed as Class A fires, such as paper or waste. For this reason, you can expect to see a water extinguisher near lavatories and/or galleys. Water might be able to put out a small electrical fire, but it also increases the risk of shock or electrocution, and considering that you might already be dealing with a compromised system, adding more risk to the equation doesn’t make sense.

In the age of rechargeable batteries used in phones, computers and tablets, fire awareness and extinguishing are even more important. There have been a number of onboard fires related to lithium batteries, and at least one cargo plane was lost to such a fire.

These fires burn extremely hot and are difficult, if not impossible, to control. As a result, airlines require that they be handled a certain way, and if a fire breaks out in a cabin because of a faulty battery, it is common to see some kind of thermal containment bag that is used to corral the offending device. The bag usually has a pair of heat-resistant gloves (think of a large oven mitt) that can be used to get the device in the bag. Once it is sealed inside, the hope is that the fire will burn out from a lack of oxygen. If a battery fire can be extinguished, it’s OK to douse it with liquids in order to smother it and get the temperature under control. In fact, it’s critical to keep an eye on the source, since the fire could reignite.

Fires are less of a threat than they used to be, which means when they do happen, they can totally catch everyone off guard. Learn what you can use to extinguish each type of fire, and know where the extinguishers are located and how to use them. Pay attention during training drills, and always be ready to put that training to use.—Chip Wright

Dear FAA

Dear FAA,

I am writing to you from the comfy confines of my pandemic-imposed quarantine-like shutdown, and like many Americans, I have gotten a fair number of things done around my house that needed doing or that I was told needed doing, or that I was told that I wanted to need to do. But I digress.

Doing these things made me realize that there are some housekeeping items that you should have addressed while airlines around the world were basically grounded. In fact, much of general aviation wasn’t flying much either, so you wasted a lot of good opportunity, which is almost as bad as wasting my tax dollars.

In the event that the world shuts down again, please consider using the following as a To Do list:

Clean the runways. Runways everywhere are covered with discarded rubber from tires, and these black patches are slicker than ice when they get wet. Speaking of ice, when that rubber gets snow and ice on it, slick doesn’t even begin to describe what one must deal with. The severe decrease in traffic is a great time to get the rubber cleaning equipment out of the garage and put it to use, so chop chop.

Fix the lights. There are, I’m guessing, millions of lights on and around airports. Runway lights, taxi way lights, approach lights, sign lights, and probably lights I’m not even aware of. Some of them I’m not aware of because they are burned out. I have yet to figure out when lights need to be fixed, but it must be some formula I don’t understand, because some are always (it seems) notam’ed out of service. With fewer airplanes to avoid, this would be a grand time to get all the lights working again. Even the Motel 6 leaves the lights on for people.

Paint! There is no better time than during an aviation-grounding pandemic to whip out some brushes and rollers and start painting taxi lines, runway stripes, lead-in lines, hold-short lines, taxiway markers, spot numbers and anything else that has paint in, on it, or with it. I’m going to cut you some slack on this one, because paint is hard to stay on top of, especially since it needs time to dry. It fades in the sun, gets scraped by plows, runover by vehicles large and small, and pounded by rain and even lightning. But, too many airports have too many lines that are too hard to see, especially at night and in the rain, and this really needs to be fixed, pronto.

This list could keep you busy for a while, so consider this a good starting point, but not necessarily an end point. Pilots everywhere will be grateful and less likely to get lost on one of your aerodromes.

Many thanks, and peace out,
Chip—Chip Wright

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