Trouble in the Air

November 27, 2013

It's the night before Thanksgiving and I take a charter to Washington DC. The pilot is new to the company, but not new to flying or charters. He's from Alaska and has a great deal of experience flying in challenging weather. He's also flown many types of single and multi-engine airplanes and is a certified flight instructor, which makes we feel good. I have not met him before tonight, and since this was his first charter with our company, it was my job to show him the ropes.

We taxi the Cessna 310 to the runway and takeoff. Once landed at Lambert International, I show him where to go to pick up the part that we are to deliver to Washington DC. We load the plane and get on our way. The flight there was cold but uneventful. We talk, getting to know each other and our aviation backgrounds. After landing in DC, we go inside and wait to deliver the part. It's snowing and misting. We're hoping we can take off before the engines and airplane surfaces get too cold. After a longer wait that desired, we are able to hand off the part to the proper people. The pilot and I then go outside and preflight the plane. I grab some oil out of the wing locker and top off the engines. We're ready to go.

Ran into light icing (upper left), pictures
from the FBO, then a map of where we had to divert and land due to
complications with the airplane.

We're flying along in the middle of the night, headed for home. The weather is less than ideal, but we're safe. As we move along, I'm hearing a strange sound. Something seems louder than normal. I don't mention anything because I don't see anything wrong. I figure my headset batteries were dying, leading to the loudness. Nope, they're fine. Eventually I look out the window and towards the back of the wing. I see the problem. The door of the wing locker that I took the oil out of was open. We're cruising along at 170kts and I'm worried that the door is going to break off. It appears that a towel is hanging out, keeping the door from closing. I notify the pilot immediately.

We tell ATC that we need to make a landing at the nearest airport. We're somewhere over West Virginia, it's pitch black outside, and there's mountains beneath us. ATC gives us clearance to land at KCKB (North Central West Virginia Airport). Upon landing, the pilot pulls off the runway but keeps the engines running. There's snow and ice on the ground, and it's lightly snowing. I hop out of the plane while still on the taxiway (with permission from ATC), and hurry to move the towels out of the way so that I can secure the door. Alright, we're all set.

We take off and get back to altitude. Twenty minutes later, one of the engines start surging uncontrollably. The plane starts swinging side to side. The engine sounds like it's going to full speed then quickly decelerating, and repeating. We turn off auto pilot and scramble to figure out what's wrong. The engine sounds as if it's on the verge of completely failing and the pilot is fighting the controls to keep the plane straight and level. I check every last instrument and nothing is reading wrong; all gauges are reading in the green arc. We check the fuel; it's ok too. What is wrong??? We decide that it's absolutely necessary to make a precautionary landing. We notify ATC of our partial engine failure. The controller asks the pilot if he wants to declare an emergency. I look at him, and he looks at me. "Yes I do," he responds. It's still night time, and we're still over the mountains. A million thoughts are running through my head... This is this pilot's first charter with us, he doesn't have too much experience with this particular airplane, I hardly know him, it's Thanksgiving, and we're in the middle of now Ohio with a failing engine.

The engine continues to surge while ATC directs us to the nearest airport (KPKB - Mid Ohio Valley Airport). I'm so nervous that I'm trembling. The pilot does a great job keeping the plane as controlled as possible. As we get closer to the airport, he tells me to expect emergency personnel waiting for us. This only makes me more nervous, but I'm glad he mentioned it. We turn on to final approach for landing and I can see the firetrucks and ambulance on the field with their lights flashing. I can't believe this is happening!

We sigh with relief as we safely land the plane and follow the emergency vehicles to the nearest building. We turn the engines off and get out. The emergency personnel greet us immediately and make sure that we're ok. We're worked up, but ok. They ask what is wrong with the plane, but unfortunately we haven't even figured that out yet. The weather is still cold and nasty, so we go inside the small FBO. The pilot calls the manager, while I call another pilot who has many hours with this plane. After the pilot hangs up with the manager, he calls the maintenance director to start problem solving. The pilot that I'm on the phone with gives me some tests to try on the plane to see if it'll help identify the problem. I hang up and call my husband; he needs to know what's going on.

After my pilot and I receive plenty of tests to run on the plane, we go back outside and begin troubleshooting. A quick walk-around the plane reveals nothing, so we climb inside. The pilot turns on the master switch to check for things that don't require the engines running. Nothing appears wrong. We turn on the engines and run a series of tests. Again, nothing. We can't even replicate the surging. Completely baffled, we go back into the building and call the mechanic. While they're on the phone, I'm anxiously trying to figure out how we're going to get home. Do we wait for someone to fly out here and pick us up? Is someone going to drive across multiple states to get us? Should the pilot and I try to fly? They hang up and the pilot and I talk. We agree to take a test flight, staying in the traffic pattern at the airport where we're never too far from a runway.

The plane starts up like normal and we takeoff. He flies it while I check every last instrument, listen for weird sounds, and watch for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. We bring the engines up to regular cruise to see if it'll start surging again. Nothing. We come in for a landing and pull back the power to see if that'll trigger anything. Nope. The plane refuses to do anything wrong. We land and go back inside. After a good discussion, we decide we are going to attempt to fly back home. Our plan is to follow a route where there's an airport every 10-20 miles. I'm certainly nervous about this option, but I'd like to be home for Thanksgiving without inconveniencing anyone to come get us. Since the plane was behaving normally with all the tests, and we'll have airports near us at all times while flying, we go for it.

Shortly after takeoff, we turn on the alternate air. It was a suggestion from the other pilot I had been on the phone with. By turning on the alternate air, it draws warm air from the engine and sends it to the back where the oil is. This warms the oil to keep it from congealing. Since it was so cold outside, we agreed this was a good plan. We hadn't thought of it when the engine had been surging. Our flight home was smooth and uneventful. We landed back home safe and sound. I have developed so much respect for my pilot tonight. He handled the situation like a true professional. I would be honored to fly with him again.

I inquired with the mechanics a week later to see what the problem was, and they too couldn't find anything. That lead us to believe that there may have been some ice in the engines, or the oil congealed. Both of which can be remedied by turning on the alternate air.

I drive home and find my husband waiting by the door. He was ready to drive to get me in the middle of the night if needed. I give him a big hug, then head off to bed. Several hours later I wake up and enjoy Thanksgiving with the family. It was a day I was definitely thankful for.

Havin' Fun

November 23, 2013

Here's some pictures from recent flights:

1. Halloween night 2013. I co-piloted a charter to Pittsburgh. The auto-pilot was inoperative, we dealt with storms, severe turbulence, had a 100kt tailwind going to Pittsburgh, and I landed the C310 on my own for the first time :-)

Top left: Jets in Pittsburg. Top right: Storm damage and high wind
reports from the night (right along our route). Bottom: The FBO in PIT

2. I took my mother-in-law flying for the first time on November 3rd. We did a city tour and flew by the Arch. It was peak Fall colors, which made for a beautiful flight.

3. I co-piloted a charter to Raleigh, NC. We had crystal clear skies and no turbulence. It was just an uneventful, dark, cold night.

Top: Coming into land at Lambert. Bottom left: St. Louis skyline.
Bottom right: The FBO at Raleigh

4. I was given the opportunity to fly an Embraer 145 jet simulator at Flight Safety on November 21st. The cockpit is an actual ERJ 145 cockpit, and the simulator was built around it. This is how airline pilots train to fly their planes. The simulator is built up on hydraulic legs, and you literately feel everything... even the cracks on the runway! I did stalls, steep turns, had an engine failure on takeoff, flew through the Arch, made four landings, shot an approach where I broke out of the clouds at 300ft, and taxied the plane back to the terminal. This was an amazing experience!

Right side: Top- The $18M simulator, Middle- The simulated scenery

I am now up to 286.7 total flight hours logged!

Multi Engine Rating

November 3, 2013

Today I earned my Commercial Multi-Engine Rating!!

Earning my multi-engine rating took approximately six hours of flight training and about four hours of ground school. In order to pass the checkride, you must perform several maneuvers and procedures. First up, steep turns to the commercial pilot standards, then slow flight, a power off stall, a power on stall, an accelerated stall, and perform an emergency descent. You also perform the VMC Demo, which basically shows that you can safely fly the plane on one engine, maintain directional control, and recover the airplane when required. You will show the examiner that you can completely shut down one engine, safely fly the airplane, and secure the stopped propeller and engine. Once you have met his approval, you demonstrate your ability to restart the engine. See my short video of an engine shutdown on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbyMpqQIfag

After the maneuvers, if you're instrument rated, of which I am, you perform an instrument approach. For my checkride, we did the VOR 18 into my home airport. The plane was configured for a simulated single engine approach and required me to land with just the one engine. Afterwards, we did an aborted takeoff, a short field takeoff, and a simulated engine failure in the traffic pattern.

After all was said and done, I passed!!

BE-76 Duchess - my training aircraft

Duchess cockpit

Success!

September 15, 2013

Today I earned my Commercial Pilot Certificate!!

The checkride started at 9am and involved an oral exam, then two flights; performing maneuvers in a Cessna 172, then all the take-offs and landings in the Cessna 182RG (complex & high performance airplane). The checkride ended around 2pm. It feels really great to finally be finished. Next I plan to earn my multi-engine rating and CFI (certified flight instructor) certificate.

Where I stand with flight hours:
Total time: 269.1 hours
PIC (Pilot in command): 204.9 hours
Single engine only: 260.4 hours
Multi-engine only: 8.2 hours
Cross country: 67.2 hours
Instrument (Simulated & Actual): 62.5 hours

My DPE (examiner), Scott and I

Charter to Washington D.C.

July 28, 2013

Last night was quite the experience. It was 9:30pm and I had just laid down for bed when my phone alerts me to a call. "Hey we got a charter to Washington DC, wanna go?" asks the on-call pilot. "Sure do!!" I respond. I jump out of bed, throw on some clean clothes, kiss my husband goodnight, grab my flight bag and race out of the house. I beat the pilot to the airport by about 15 minutes and do a preflight inspection on the plane; a Cessna 310.

By time we take off, it's after 11pm. We arrive at Lambert International (KSTL) to pick up the part that we are scheduled to fly to Washington DC. The maintenance building we parked in front of is filled with gorgeous jets that just gleam in the light. I daydream as we walk inside. We gather the part which is safely wrapped in bubble wrap, and hustle back to the plane. It's a cool, windless, clear evening. We're supposed to break a record low tonight. The pilot fires up the engines and we get on our way.

Now at 9,000 feet and on course, we activate the auto-pilot. It's bitterly cold, freezing actually... literately 32 degrees up here. We wait a while before turning on the heater, as it uses fuel to operate. I have goosebumps on my arms and my body is trembling, but I don't say anything. We have at least three hours ahead of us before reaching our destination when I suddenly feel the need for a potty break. Damnit, I think to myself. I had just used the restroom before leaving our home airport too. The urge goes away for a while once we turn the heater on, but I still know that it's going to be a long flight.

We're now somewhere over Ohio in the blackness of the night when we see a dull light radiate across the sky. Our on-board radar is nearly worthless and doesn't pick up any echos. The pilot questions ATC, in which they respond that they can't be of much help since the distant weather is out of their radar range. As we continue flying, we get passed from one approach center to another. With each change, the pilot questions the weather. Eventually he calls up Flight Watch and gets a complete weather report with recommendations included. We still see the lightning and my adrenaline is pumping. I've never dealt with a thunderstorm of this capacity before, much less at night! We're told that if we fly north of our flight path, we can avoid the worst of it. We accept the diversion. Shortly thereafter, we start picking up rain. It's still 32 degrees outside, so we prepare for the chance of icing by turning on the outside heating elements. The raindrops pelt us mercilessly as we pass through the nearly invisible, night hidden clouds. The occasional flash of lightning blinds our eyes as if we’ve walked in front of a strobe light. The turbulence is challenging my bladder holding abilities but I manage to contain myself. We make it through the storm and get back on course. An hour later we arrive at Dulles International (KIAD).

We park in front of an FBO and deliver the part. The staff tops off our fuel tanks while we relax inside. The building is luxurious and makes me feel a little out of my league. The leather chairs, live plants, thick solid cherry wood restroom stall doors, spacious interior and granite countertops reinforce that only prestigious flyers stop here. We snatch a fresh cookie, grab some water and check the weather while waiting. Within 45 minutes we are off again.

The flight home was much less eventful. The fact that I'm pulling an all-nighter is beginning to catch up to me. I have been awake since 5:30 in the morning, and worked a total of about 11 hours between both jobs. I was getting tired. This is where having two pilots on board is a good thing, we can take turns napping. About an hour and a half into our flight, the sun began to rise. We are over the Appalachian Mountains now and towering cumulus clouds were along our route. The beauty of the surrounding scenery was enough to keep me awake a little while longer. Once we were out of the clouds, I could see the hazy sunrise sky that looked like a Monet painting. Below, the fog that had set in the valleys of the mountains which made it appear like small smoke filled fingers of a lake. It was stunning.

Video also here: YouTube

Later, I let the pilot take a 30-45 minute nap. He woke up while we were in contact with Terre Haute, Indiana approach. I turned the plane over to him and then took my much needed nap. I reclined my seat, plugged my ears with ear plugs, turned the volume way down on my headset and shut my eyes. I couldn't get comfortable, so within 20-30 minutes I was back up again.

Now in contact with St. Louis approach, we start preparing for landing. The radio frequencies have become alive with pilots out flying. The sun is shining brightly, the winds are light, and the skies are clear. I'm getting excited now as we're almost home. We have the airport in sight and switch over to the local frequency to announce our position and intentions. The pilot teaches me the landing procedure as we make our way inbound. This plane is fast and heavy! "Hold it off, hold it off..." he says to me as my petite arms fight the yoke. The sight picture is much different than what I'm used to. He keeps his hands on the controls and helps me connect the wheels to the ground. Success!

It's now after 7:30 in the morning and the airport is beginning to come to life. I help the pilot unload the plane then head inside. The pilot is also a multi-engine instructor, therefore he could sign my logbook as dual instruction for the four hour flight home. I thank him for letting me come along, then make my way to the car and head home. My eyes feel bloodshot, I'm hungry and tired. I can't decide if I should eat breakfast before bed, or after. I decide to stop at McDonald's and pick up a small snack. After eating, I lie down and crash until 2:00 in the afternoon. I'm drained the rest of the day, but that’s a small price to pay for the opportunity such as last night’s. In addition, I earned my 250th flight hour, the minimum needed for my commercial pilot's certificate. YAY!

Multi-engine

July 3, 2013

I was recently added to the list of co-pilots allowed to ride along on charter flights. The company I take lessons from, and work for, also does charter flights to airports all across the country. Because I'm an employee, I can sit right seat. The great thing about it is that if I go with a multi-engine instructor, and the trip home isn't carrying any parts or passengers, I can log that time as dual instruction and learn how to fly a multi-engine as I ride along! Needless to say, I'm stoked!

Most of these charters occur overnight; I know I will be tired, and it'll be dark. So I thought the smart thing to do to be best prepared would be to take one lesson, a crash course, in a multi-engine during the daytime.

I meet with Nick, my instructor for the day. We spend 15 minutes on the ground discussing the day's plan before going out to the plane. Here he teaches me how to run though the pre-flight inspection to make sure the plane is airworthy. We hop in the plane and prepare for takeoff. Nick walks me through the procedure of  what to do in case of an engine failure on takeoff. There's three scenarios, all of which must be announced out-loud by the pilot before entering the runway. 

1. Before Takeoff - Abort (throttles idle)
2. After liftoff and gear down with runway remaining - Abort and land straight ahead.
3. After takeoff and a climb is in process, if you lose an engine - 
• Power Up - Mixture full rich, prop control full forward, full throttle.
• Clean Up - Flaps up, Gear up, Auxiliary fuel pumps on.
• Identify - Determine which engine is dead: Whichever foot requires rudder to remain straight is the side with the good engine. The opposite can be remembered by "Dead foot, Dead engine."
• Verify - Cautiously retard (bring back) the throttle.
• Rectify - Use checklist for possible restart if conditions permit.
• Secure - Feather the prop (On a multi-engine aircraft, feathering the propeller on a failed engine allows the aircraft to maintain altitude with the reduced power from the remaining engines.), mixture idle cut-off, see checklist. 

We now enter the runway and I apply half power with brakes held and check the instruments for proper readings. Everything looks acceptable so I release the brakes and add all remaining power. We liftoff at 71kts, and climb out at 85kts. Gear goes up and before you know it, we're already at pattern altitude (1200ft MSL). We continue climbing to 2500ft until we are clear of class B airspace, then we continue to climb to 4500ft. By the time we reached 4500ft, we were clear of the next ring of class B airspace, and we could climb to 6000ft.

We perform a couple clearing turns, then Nick takes the controls and shows me the drag demo. He pulls one engine to idle and the other engine to full throttle to simulate an engine failure. Then one at a time he lowers the flaps and landing gear. He shows me the effect each one has on the performance of the airplane and how to maintain control of the airplane. Very interesting! He then continues on to show me the Vmc demo. Vmc is the minimum flight speed at which the airplane is directionally controllable. This procedure is very similar to stalls. He slows the airplane down to the Vmc speed (about 65kts) and at the first sign (stall warning horn, buffeting, or directional loss), he lowers the nose to gain speed and pulls the good engine's throttle to idle. This allows the plane to safely speed up until you can gain control again (about 85kts - at the blue line). You then add full power to the good engine and climb out. 

Now it's my turn! He walks me through the steps and I experience first hand the effects of an engine failure. Much different than a single engine engine-failure!

We're now at 6000ft and he says we need to make an emergency descent. This is practice for an engine fire. Making a rapid descent often blows out the fire. We push the nose over and speed up to 140kts. We bank the airplane at 30 degrees and continue to rapidly descend down to 2500ft. My ears are continuously popping and the visuals are crazy. I feel like we're looking straight down at the ground. Before I could blink, we were already down to 2500ft. We recover and begin our flight home. 

He sets up the VOR and has me fly the VOR 18 approach into the airport... just for practice. The winds are light and are setting us up for a perfect landing. Once over the river, we begin our straight in approach for runway 18. Gear down, flaps down, drop speed from 120kts to 85kts for short final. The sight picture in this plane is much different; you can't see the nose of the airplane. My instructor keeps his hands on the controls and walks me through my first landing. Keeping the plane off the runway, then gently flare, and touchdown. I was pleasantly surprised!

We then taxi back and do one more takeoff. He quizzes me on the process of an engine failure during takeoff. Once complete, I taxi out, takeoff, and climb to pattern altitude. I was warned that everything will happen faster than what I'm used to. Shortly thereafter, I'm turning onto the downwind leg, lowering the gear and preparing for landing. Now onto final, I be sure to keep my airspeed at 85kts (the blue line). We're lined up perfectly, and he's going to let me do most the work for this landing. I slowly bring the power back, hold the plane off the ground, then gently flare. The touchdown was perfect. 

I taxi us back to the hanger and shut down. I'm feeling pretty proud of myself and quite happy. Prior to the flight, I was slightly worried that I would get overwhelmed with two engines. It turns out that I felt comfortable in that plane. Having a great instructor certainly helps, and having previous experience in a complex plane helps. I can say with certainty that I'm looking forward to getting a multi-engine rating sometime in the future!

Until then I will enjoy any charter flight I can participate in. I should also be finishing my commercial training in July. That will be a great day!

Complex Airplane

March 14, 2013

I've flown several times since the last post so instead of writing about just one day, I'll just talk about what it's like to fly a plane that left my arm sore after the first lesson.

One requirement of commercial pilot training is to learn complex airplanes. I have been so excited to take that next step and learn to fly something that feels more like what a professional pilot would fly. So what exactly makes a plane complex? First, it needs flaps. Nothing new for me here. All of the planes that I fly have flaps. In fact, we have to do special training to learn how to land without flaps! Secondly, it needs to have retractable landing gear. This to me feels like the coolest upgrade from what I've been flying, but it also makes you a little bit nervous seeing those wheels disappear from your sight after takeoff. Lastly, it needs to have a controllable pitch propeller, and in my case the constant speed propeller counts. A constant speed propeller is "a type of propeller that can change its blade pitch to take better advantage of the power supplied by an engine in much the same way that a transmission in a car takes better advantage of its power source. The mechanism varies depending on the aircraft, but the effect is to change the angle of attack of the propeller blades to take a smaller or larger "bite" of air as it rotates." - Wikipedia. That's it! Doesn't sound too difficult does it? Not so fast... I will need to learn all about manifold pressure as well.

"An airplane equipped with a fixed pitch propeller (what I have been flying for the last two years) has only one main power control - the throttle. In that case, the setting of the throttle will control both the amount of power and the propeller or engine RPM.

On the other hand, an airplane equipped with a constant speed propeller (what I'm now flying) has two main power controls - a throttle and a propeller control. The throttle controls the engine's power output which is indirectly indicated on the manifold pressure gauge. The propeller control changes the pitch of the propeller blades and governs the RPM which is indicated on the tachometer (Fig. 2-18). As the throttle setting (manifold pressure) is increased, the pitch angle of the propeller blades is automatically increased through the action of the propeller governor system." - Avstop.com

Ok now we're finished. Sound just a little more complicated? It is! But with a little ground school and a great instructor, you can get your complex airplane endorsement in just 2-4 hours of flight time.

The airplane that I'll be using is a Cessna 182RG. Not only is it a bigger heavier plane, it will get me my complex airplane endorsement and my high performance airplane endorsement. It's high performance because it has over 200hp which is almost 100hp more than what I'm used to. It's a fast one; cruises around 130-140 kts vs. the 100-110 that I've become accustomed to. 

My first day... on preflight, my instructor walks me through all the extra things that I have to check. Inspecting the landing gear is probably the most important addition to the checklist. Once inside and buckled, I immediately feel as if I'm the size of a middle school child. I turn on the plane and the engine igniting made a sound that was very pleasant to my ears; a powerful roar, eager to fly. On takeoff, I felt the power instantaneously. I was thrown back in my seat and before I could even blink twice, we were already at climb-out speed. I pull the yoke back and my arm muscles are now questioning my sanity. Once clear of the runway, I raise the landing gear up. I avoided looking down for probably five minutes because the concept of being without gear down was a bit intimidating. 

My instructor teaches me how to use the throttle to control manifold pressure and the propeller control to change the RPM. The RPM should always be higher than the manifold pressure, otherwise you risk engine detonation. Not good. Over the first two lessons, we practice maneuvers such as stalls, slow flight, and emergency procedures. On the second flight, he threw a curveball my way that I don't think I will ever forget. After performing two power-off stalls, he asks me to one more before we call it a day. I start setting up the airplane, and after lowering the landing gear lever, I noticed nothing happened. The gear was not down. I had a mild freak out, "Uh, my landing gear is not down, do you have a wheel?" My brain is racing simultaneously, thinking, "Oh my god, my husband is going to kill me for having to make a gear up landing." Talk about jumping the gun, huh? My instructor replies saying that everything is ok and shows me how to use the manual hand pump on the floor. About 20 pumps should do, and as soon as the green light comes on, the gear will be down and locked. Sure enough it works. "What the hell did you do??" I ask him. He laughs and says he just pulled the circuit breaker when I wasn't looking. Figures. He pushes the circuit breaker back in and everything goes back to normal. Phew!

On our third flight, it was a day of just landing practice. The tricky part this time was that it was raining and I had next to no experience in the rain. Not only that, it was only marginal VFR with visibility at 4 miles. We take off, and the pay careful attention to keep the airport in sight. The first landing wasn't bad. On the second takeoff, the visibility had gone down to 2 miles and the rain had slightly picked up. If we weren't in class G airspace, this would be IFR flying and would need clearance from ATC. The plane is so fast that you have minimal time to run though your landing checklist and prepare the plane for landing. The second landing was unfortunately a bounce. By our third takeoff, visibility went down again to 1 1/2 miles. We quickly made our way around the traffic pattern and the landing was better, but certainly not a typical Sara landing. I think the rain affected my perception of the runway. We stopped there, as my landings weren't great and if the visibility dropped any more, we'd be in trouble. 

After 3 flights, which came in to about 3 hours logged, my CFI signed my logbook and gave me my high performance and complex airplane endorsements. That felt good, real good.

Now I just need to get that time up to at least 10 hours to qualify for commercial, therefore more flights will follow!

Chandelles 'n More

February 1, 2013

After having officially completed the cross country requirements for commercial training, I can finally move on to the much anticipated commercial maneuvers. These require much more precision than that of the private pilot maneuvers and many will argue that they are quite a bit more fun.

I roll onto the runway and gradually add power. The wheels begin to roll and the airspeed increases. At 60 knots, the wings have gained enough lift and my instructor and I find ourselves slicing through the air. We depart the traffic pattern and make our way to the north. We gain altitude before my instructor informs me that before we can begin new maneuvers, we need to review some of the old maneuvers. Stalls, slow flight, and steep turns. I roll my eyes... I hate stalls, haven't done slow flight in a year, and steep turns? Instrument flying has gotten me quite comfortable with a lousy, shallow, standard rate turn.

First up, slow flight. I'm in a new plane (ok not really new, but an all new engine that took 1 1/2 years to get), so the flight controls feel different than what I'm used to. They're a bit sloppy, touchy... I slow the plane down and drop the flaps until we are flying at 40 knots in landing configuration. I can hear the stall warning horn howling at me, as I'm just above stall speed. It's just what my instructor ordered. It's not easy though, I struggle to keep my altitude and fight with the power setting to keep me at 40 knots and within +/- 100ft of my assigned altitude. "Ok, make a turn to the left," my CFI says. I begin to make a normal 30 degree turn but quickly remember that in slow flight, your turns must be extremely shallow and made slowly. After practicing for 5-10 minutes, we resume normal cruise.

Now it's stalls. Just the word 'stall' alone makes the hair on my arm stand up. "We're going to do so many of these that I will make sure you actually like stalls by the time you're done with commercial," the instructor says. "You're kidding, right?" "No... I'm not kidding." After a deep breath, I set up for a power off stall. By now I'm really missing my regular plane. I work through the wind and the sloppy controls and put myself back into the landing configuration for a power-off stall. At 60 knots however, I pull the power all the way out to idle, pull back on the yoke and watch the nose of the plane rise well above the horizon. There's the horn, keep pulling up, airspeed 37 knots, and there's the good ole stall feeling; buffeting. I immediately recover and we do a couple more before moving on to power-on stalls. Let the airspeed drop to 60 knots, then add full power while simultaneously raising the nose of the plane. There's the stall and I recover.

Unfortunately it's not over yet, my CFI says that he's required to show me some more advanced stalls. Oh boy, this should be fun... First up, a secondary stall. What happens when you stall the plane, over-react and all of a sudden you're unexpectedly in another (secondary) stall? (Video found here- use sound). Sounds scary right? Yeah, let me tell ya. My CFI performs the maneuver nicely and recovers without much effort. But what if you haven't stalled at all and for whatever reason you abruptly yank the nose up towards the sun? This would be an example of an accelerated stall. They are more severe than your traditional stall because of the excessive load factors and the higher airspeed. I didn't like the sound of this one up front. We cruise along then next thing I know I'm looking at the clouds above and I shoved back in my seat. I hear the warning horn blaring and immediately look at the airspeed. Wow, we're more than twice the airspeed of a normal stall! Ok, by now my heart is racing and I'm clinching my hands. (Example found here) He hasn't emptied his bag of maneuvers yet. How about an accelerated stall while in a steep turn? Oh gee, can't wait for this one! He drops the left wing and puts it in a 45 degree bank. He pulls the nose of the plane up steadily until the stall occurs. He recovers quickly. But what if you're in a turn and you get cross-controlled? Your foot is pushing on the left rudder but your yoke is turned to the right? These are most likely to happen in the traffic pattern when turning base to final. That one wasn't so scary... (Example here) Next up, an elevator trim stall. This could happen during a quick climb, such as a go-around from an aborted landing. My instructor shows me the stall but thankfully it didn't seem that much different than a regular power-on stall (Example here). Alright, we're finished with stalls... phew!

Now we finally get to the good stuff, chandelles. This is a maximum performance climbing 180 degree turn.

http://flighttraining.aopa.org

This maneuver doesn't look that difficult, however it does require more precision that one would think. My CFI demonstrates one first then hands the controls over to me. I add power, raise the nose and simultaneously make a 30 turn bank to the left. In the picture shown, this would be stage 2 and 3. Once I hit the 90 degree point (stage 4), I begin to rollout to get my wings level. As I very slowly finish rolling out, I  eventually hit the 180 degree point at just above stall speed (stage 6). That was fun, but I have some fine tuning to do. We continue practicing with each one getting better than the last.

We call it a day and head back to the airport. I've started a descent so that I don't run into Bravo airspace when my instructor pulls the power out to idle and says, "Whooops, you lost your engine. Land it." First thing I do is get to 65 knots, my best glide speed. I then pick a landing spot and start making 360 degree circles down to the spot I chose to land on. I then run through the emergency checklist and announce once it's complete. I eventually descend from 4000ft to 1000ft and go in for a landing when I'm told my engine just came back to life. I add full power and climb back up. Alright, now we can head for home...

My instructor says I can either enter the pattern and do a power-off 180 or fly straight in and land on runway 18 with no flaps. I opt for the no flaps challenge. I announce my intentions over the radio and set up for landing. This is known as a GUMPS checklist - Gas from both tanks/ fullest tank, Undercarriage (wheels) down, Mixture full rich, Propeller (I don't have to worry about this yet), Switches and seatbelts. Checklist complete. We're now just over the river and I pull on the carburetor heat and cut some power out to start my descent. We have about a mile to go and I've kept all the flaps up. I can't rely on them to help slow me down. Everything looks great. Now over the runway, I adjust the trim tab to make the flare a little easier, then gently touch down. No issues... I'm happy.

I fly again tomorrow and we will review everything from today, but add Lazy Eights. I'm looking forward to it.

Chicago

January 20, 2013

It's 7:30am and I arrive at the airport. The sun has just risen over the horizon, sending a warm glow over St. Louis. My instructor was kind enough to preflight the plane before I arrived. We discuss what route we will fly, the altitudes to fly at, the weather and then got an IFR plan filed with the FAA. After taxiing to the runway we call Clearance Delivery and pick up our IFR flight plan. We will be in contact with ATC for the entire trip.

It's a long, slow flight at 7,000ft and it's gradually getting colder as we make our way north. We finally get in contact with Chicago approach. Since we're on an IFR flight plan, they direct us to fly to the west side of the city for traffic avoidance. We decline the assignment because we want to fly on the east side of the city and over Lake Michigan. We're told that if we want to fly that route, we will need to fly to Gary, Indiana then go VFR up the coast to our destination of Racine, WI. They will keep an eye on us by using flight following. We accept the plan.

At about 10 miles to the southwest of Gary, we cancel IFR and pick up flight following. We can see downtown Chicago, and the coast of Lake Michigan is just ahead of us. Its brilliant turquoise color shines in the sun. We reach the coast and cross over to the wide open waters. This is nothing like flying over a typical Missouri lake.

Looking north from Gary, IN

We make our way up the coastline for over 60NM. We have O'Hare traffic flying all around us and are warned of wake turbulence. It never becomes an issue as the planes are kept a good distance away from us. The city is stunning from the air.

Downtown Chicago with the Navy Pier

Nothing but crystal clear water

The air temperature has become a crisp zero degrees and our air vents are constantly blowing open, making the cabin a bit chilly. Upon landing at Racine, WI for fuel, I check my phone's Weatherbug app. No wonder we are freezing, it's says "Feel likes -5 with winds gusting to 37mph." WOW!! The nice airport employee tops off the tanks and we get on our way. Next stop is southwest to Schaumburg, IL. 

Twenty minutes later we land at Schaumburg and make our way to a table at Pilot Pete's restaurant on the field. It's now 1:00pm and my instructor and I are quite hungry. We order chicken fingers as an appetizer. Delicious! He then orders brisket as his meal and I order the beef pot roast. As we're waiting for our food to arrive, we look at the weather forcast and see that we may run into some light snow on our way home. 

Our food arrives and it looks amazing! I take a bite and just melt right into my seat. It was absolutely delicious!

After stuffing ourselves beyond crazy, we make our way back to the plane, but not before borrowing some duct tape from the local flight school. We don't exactly care to fly back with that air vent open, so it's time to play mechanic and tape the thing shut.

We depart Shaumburg and begin our flight home. It wasn't long after leaving the Chicago airspace that the weather starts to deteriorate. We're not in the clouds and we don't see any precipitation, however we have no visibility except for down. Since I have no reference to the horizon, I'm now required to fly by instruments only. Looks like my newly acquired IFR rating has come in handy! We're now at 8000ft, and even being this high up, it's warmer outside than it was in Wisconsin on the ground. 

The weather continues to get worse; it appears that we are now fully in the clouds. We continue flying, then I start to notice tiny snow flurries entering the cockpit. What?! They are finding their way in through other air vents. We look down to the wheels and notice snow building on the tops of the tires. Alright, looks like we are officially in the snow. That means that it's cold outside and we are in visible moisture. It's a perfect setup for icing conditions. I flip on the pitot heat to keep the pitot tube from icing over. I keep my instrument scan going because that's one of the golden rules of flying IFR. In my scan I notice that I'm losing airspeed. I assess the other instruments and also notice that my RPMs are dropping and I can physically feel the airplane running more rough than normal. Although I have never actually experienced this before, I had read about it. My immediate response was to turn on the carb heat. It was an instantaneous fix. We apparently had developed minor carburateur ice. I kept the carb heat on while we descended to 6000ft. Once straight and level I turn the carb heat off so that we could get back to normal cruise speed. But once again the ice developed. Carb heat goes back on and I take us down to 4000ft to try and escape the clouds. Shortly after reaching 4000ft we exit the clouds and the snow all together.

The snow, now behind us

Now at Springfield, MO, it's completely clear and the visibility is outstanding. We can actually see downtown St. Louis from here!

After the long flight, we arrive back home. That was such an amazing experience. We logged at least 550NM, 6.3 hours of flight time and flew through 4 different states. 

This trip has completed my cross country requirements for commercial training. Now onto maneuvers and complex aircraft!

Commercial Night XC

January 15, 2013

I close down the airport that I work at and go out to my plane to perform the preflight inspection. It's cold. It's dark. It's quiet. The runways are lit up with red and white lights, the taxiways are lined in blue. I've always liked how an airport looks at night.

My instructor for the evening hops in the plane and organizes his things as I finish looking over the plane. Everything looks airworthy. I taxi us out to the runway and prepare for takeoff. My nerves start to rise as we lift off and I see that the ground is no longer visible; I can't see the trees, the buildings, or the river. What I can see is the gorgeously illuminated lights of the St. Louis region. We depart the area to the northwest while we contact St. Louis approach to receive flight following. On the way to our destination of Mattoon, IL we discuss things from night illusions, to weather, to airplane instrument requirements for night flying. We reach the halfway point of Vandalia and I see the airport beacon flashing its green and white lights. Out of curiosity  we look for the actual runways; they're invisible. My instructor shows me a tip by tuning into Vandalia's radio frequency. He says, "click ur mic seven times and watch what happens." Click click click click click click click. The two runways ignite with color. Ah... Pilot controlled lighting. Ok that's seriously cool!

A half hour later we reach Mattoon. After a stop-and-go, we leave the area and head back home. As we get closer, we can see the haze glowing as the city lights brighten the sky. We appear to be in the middle of the haze layer and a layer of clouds above. The moon peaks out to welcome us before disappearing again. It was a spectacular sight.

I decided that instead of going straight home, we would fly down by the Arch and see the city. Once we arrive I hand the controls to my instructor so that I can snap a few pictures. This is the first time that I've seen the Arch like this. It's was beautiful. This is why I fly.

After our downtown fly-by, we make our way back home and land. Night flying is certainly different than daytime flying, but with views such as the ones tonight, it's definitely worth staying up past my normal bedtime.

Using My New Rating

January 6, 2013

It's 7:00am and I wake up wondering what the weather forecast is reporting. I forgot to check it last night. I turn on my cell phone; it has numerous aviation and weather apps right on my front screen. I pull up the aviation forecast and it says it should be mostly sunny throughout the day with scattered clouds. This brings a smile to my face, as I love a beautiful, sunny day. I check the current conditions to find some contradicting information. It's only marginal VFR; the clouds are overcast and they're low. This is certainly not what I expected to read. I decide to drive out to the airport anyways, hoping that by time we take off, the clouds will rise or begin to clear out.

It's 9:00am and I arrive at the airport. It's still cloudy and doesn't appear to breaking up anytime soon. I meet with my commercial instructor and we come to the conclusion that we're going to fly our cross country anyways! Why not? The clouds aren't that thick and I have a newly acquired instrument rating which will allow me to fly though the beautiful, white fluffy things and soar above them. I take my phone out and call Flight Service Station. After hanging up I excitedly say, "I just filed my first IFR flight plan under my own name!" I was surprised how amazing it felt doing that! Everything I have been working towards for the last year has led up to this moment; the moment I can legally fly IFR, using my own rating.

After taxiing to the runway and receiving our IFR clearance from ATC, we take off. We begin our climb to 6000ft but reach the base of the overcast cloud layer around 2,500ft. I notice my heart is beating a bit more than normal; I must be nervously excited. We penetrate the clouds while continuing our climb. The ground quickly leaves our sight. It's time to rely on my instruments to safely guide me. Between 4-5,000ft we break out above the clouds and my face lights up with amazement. Wow this is stunning! I've never been above a full overcast layer of clouds before.

We level out at 6,000ft which is about 1,000ft above the clouds. The sun is radiating off the overcast layer and we suddenly wish we had sunglasses. After flying for about an hour, we reach our first destination of Rolla, MO. We perform an instrument approach to get us down below the now broken layer of clouds. The dispatcher on the field asks if we will need fuel and I inform him that it would not be needed. Soon thereafter the wheels touch down and we taxi back. It's time to file the next portion of our IFR flight plan. Once we have the plane configured, we depart the area and climb to 2,000ft at which I contact Mizzou Approach. The clouds are breaking up nicely but we stay below them until we get authorization to climb. ATC quickly responds and we rise above the clouds and level out at 4,000ft. 

Columbia is our next stop, but this time we have the added excitement of flying into a controlled airport. We switch frequencies and begin communicating with Columbia's control tower. We fly another instrument approach to get us down at which time we receive our clearance to land. 

Upon touchdown, the controller has us make a 180 degree turn on the runway to get us to the nearest taxiway. We turn off and then make another 180 turn to bring us to the hold short (of the runway) line. The tower clears us for our next IFR flight leg back home and then sends us off. We climb to 7,000ft but quickly get instructed to descend to 5,000ft. Bummer! The clouds are now scattered and no threat to us. We have a nice tailwind to push us along. With not much for my CFI and I to talk about, he asks me what I know about airplane engines. Might as well get some ground school in while we have the opportunity. Engines are not something that I am knowledgeable about. He explains how they work and then we move the conversation onto system failures. What if the ammeter's needle is completely to the right (+)? Then it's essentially too charged and we should turn off the alternator. What if that needle is to the left (-)? Then the battery is not charging enough or has died. Time to turn off anything electrical that we do not need. What about pressure systems and oxygen? If we were in a jet at 40,000ft and lost pressure, we would first get passengers and crew on supplemental oxygen, followed by making an emergency descent. The "what if" conversation continued until we reached Lambert's airspace. 

We descend down to 3,000ft and inform ATC that we'll just land visually (no instrument approach). Within 10 miles of the airport, we cancel our IFR flight plan and continue on our own. We enter the downwind leg for Runway 27 behind another plane. Our trip ends after a gentle crosswind landing. 

That was definitely an enjoyable flight and one to remember. At this point in time I only need 10 more hours of cross country time logged to meet the requirement for commercial. Within those 10 hours, I need to log a dual (with CFI) night cross country, and a long (one leg of 250NM minimum) cross country. Time to check my calendar!