I just passed my multi-engine checkride, so now when my new license comes in the mail it will say something like ALL SINGLE PILOT NON-HIGH PERFORMANCE, SINGLE AND MULTI ENGINE LAND AEROPLANES, NIGHT.
Although I passed my flight test, I didn't do as well as I had hoped. There were some things at the beginning of the flight that I missed which I should not have screwed up, but I'm chalking that up to nervousness, and flying at an unfamiliar airport. There were some other things during the flight test that I didn't do well on because we didn't go over it during training, and there was no procedure laid out for it in the Flight Manual. Oh well, at the end of the day I have the rating in my hand and the examiner made it a learning experience for me as well.
I think however that I learned more about my skills on the flights to and from the flight test then I did during/after the flight test. I am based out of London, and we took the flight test in Brantford, which means we had to make the short cross country hop to and from. This was actually the first time I've done a cross country flight in the twin. And as it turned out, when we climbed aboard on our way to Brantford, Richard realized he forgot his headset, so rather then going to get it, he didn't bother and just trusted that I was capable enough to handle things on my own. So it was kind of like a first solo flight.
As much as its a nuisance to have to get 50 hrs dual time to appease the insurance companies, even though I'm multi-engine rated now, I think I'm going to side with the insurance company. The truth is that although with my 13 hrs of twin time I may be safe to operate a twin 98% of the time (which included the time during my flight test, hence the pass), I don't think I would be able to keep up when things become less ideal. There are always distractions that can pull your focus away from your cockpit duties: Talking passengers, ATC trying to communicate, minor problems with airplane systems, another airplane doing something unusual/retarded, even just stress. All of these types of things can have a tendency to pull your attention away at the worst possible moment, and then you forget to do something, or do it wrong. Even in the Cessna 150 I remember having difficulty focusing on my landing approach with a chatty passenger.
The kind of proficiency required to be safe 100% of the time can only come with flight time in the airplane, and as of yet, I don't have enough. So despite the torment of being multi-engine rated but not yet being allowed to fly my own airplane, the insurance companies actually do know what is required to be safe, so I'll gladly go along with it.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Transportation vs Passion
Hang around aviation even just a short while and you'll begin to realize there are two types of private pilots out there. The first type of pilot is the enthusiast pilot. He loves to fly, just for the sole reason of flying. He's the guy that you'll see out at the airport getting ready to go for the $100 hamburger. The hamburger sucks, and its overpriced, and a 100 miles away, but it gives him an excuse to fly. He may just be the occasional renter, an owner, or the old guy that always hangs out at the flight centre with a thousand cool story's to tell. This type just loves to fly, so that's why they do it. The second type or pilot is the type that has the intention of using it for travel. They fly for the utility of it - they want to get somewhere. I think there can be several dangerous traps for the second group of pilots.
That motivation of flying to get somewhere completely changes the type and frequency of flying between those who fly as transportation, and those who fly just because they love it. First of all, like I mentioned, the motivation to get somewhere prompts the purchase of a high performance airplane. A Cessna 150 is hardly useful for getting somewhere. Naturally the draw is towards faster, and inevitabley more complex and difficult airplanes. There is also another trap that can compound the problem. This pilot, who has just earned his Private Pilot License has grand plans of seeing the world using his new-found skill, and he purchases a sleek Mooney M20. But he only travels once a month or so, so he doesn't fly much. He's a conscientious pilot, and takes safety seriously, but the truth is his skills and experience level are likely far below the airplane he flies. Compare that to the recreational enthuisiast who loves to fly. He doesn't have a reason to go anywhere, except for maybe those hamburgers and the occasional fly-in during the summer, so he buys a Cessna 172, about the same time as the first pilot buys his Mooney. The C-172 is fun and friendly to fly, economical, and it can get somewhere in a reasonable amount of time if it has to. He's also out flying almost every weekend, even if its just to go poke around in the air for no good reason other then he just loves to be up there. He eats, sleeps, and breaths flying.
I think the difference between these two types is becoming clear. Skip ahead now a couple years in the lives of our two pilots. The enthusiast pilot with the C-172 has now amassed a considerable amount of flight time. He can fly the pants off that 172, has a good eye for weather, and he's collected a few of his own stories too. And now he's ready to move up to a more complex airplane that can once again challenge his skills. He goes for a test flight in a Mooney and after just an hour of flying in it he can fly the Mooney better then the pilot who has owned it for much longer.
The National Transportation Safety Board reports are riddled with low time pilots who have crashed their high-performance singles. I think the importance of experience in a simpler airplane shouldn't be overlooked by anyone. Even for someone interested in owning a fast cross country airplane should consider flying a simpler airplane for a considerable amount of time before stepping into something faster. Flying skills are very transferable between airplanes, and I think taking the long way and enjoying the journey before going all out is well worth the time.
That motivation of flying to get somewhere completely changes the type and frequency of flying between those who fly as transportation, and those who fly just because they love it. First of all, like I mentioned, the motivation to get somewhere prompts the purchase of a high performance airplane. A Cessna 150 is hardly useful for getting somewhere. Naturally the draw is towards faster, and inevitabley more complex and difficult airplanes. There is also another trap that can compound the problem. This pilot, who has just earned his Private Pilot License has grand plans of seeing the world using his new-found skill, and he purchases a sleek Mooney M20. But he only travels once a month or so, so he doesn't fly much. He's a conscientious pilot, and takes safety seriously, but the truth is his skills and experience level are likely far below the airplane he flies. Compare that to the recreational enthuisiast who loves to fly. He doesn't have a reason to go anywhere, except for maybe those hamburgers and the occasional fly-in during the summer, so he buys a Cessna 172, about the same time as the first pilot buys his Mooney. The C-172 is fun and friendly to fly, economical, and it can get somewhere in a reasonable amount of time if it has to. He's also out flying almost every weekend, even if its just to go poke around in the air for no good reason other then he just loves to be up there. He eats, sleeps, and breaths flying.
I think the difference between these two types is becoming clear. Skip ahead now a couple years in the lives of our two pilots. The enthusiast pilot with the C-172 has now amassed a considerable amount of flight time. He can fly the pants off that 172, has a good eye for weather, and he's collected a few of his own stories too. And now he's ready to move up to a more complex airplane that can once again challenge his skills. He goes for a test flight in a Mooney and after just an hour of flying in it he can fly the Mooney better then the pilot who has owned it for much longer.
The National Transportation Safety Board reports are riddled with low time pilots who have crashed their high-performance singles. I think the importance of experience in a simpler airplane shouldn't be overlooked by anyone. Even for someone interested in owning a fast cross country airplane should consider flying a simpler airplane for a considerable amount of time before stepping into something faster. Flying skills are very transferable between airplanes, and I think taking the long way and enjoying the journey before going all out is well worth the time.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Unlocking the Mystery
I take my Multi-Engine flight test this Saturday. I feel fairly confident, however I'm still going to try to get another flight sometime before then to go up with Richard and make sure everything is polished. I feel like right now I'm just starting to cross the threshold between having to consciously THINK about how to fly the airplane, and being able to fly the airplane instinctively. There's certainly a difference, and I started to notice it doing circuits on Sunday. I didn't have to consciously think as much about maintaining my altitude in the downwind or holding my airspeed during the approach, I just did it. Granted I am still a long ways from mastering the airplane, but the change towards that is starting to happen.
It reminds me of a certain memory I have during primary training. This happened more then four years ago now I think but I still remember the experience vividly. This was a fair amount of time before my solo. We were doing circuits in C-GEBW, the flight school's Cessna 150. I was at the point where I was just flying the airplane, and Paul would do the pre-landing check (Master on, Mags on, fuel selected on, carb heat hot, mixture rich) for me in the downwind and was probably dropping the flaps for me as well on the base leg. I remember I was concentrating very hard on holding my alititude and keeping a straight downwind leg, and Paul decided it was time for me to handle the entire workload. I called for the pre-landing check, and instead of agreeing it was time and doing it, he just said something like, "Why don't you do it this time?." So I said, "Ok, do you have [control of] the airplane?" He just declined to take control and said I was doing fine. The first time I felt a little overwhelmed - I have to FLY the airplane AND do the downwind check on my own!?! I chuckle at it now, because the pre-landing check in the 150 takes less then 5 seconds to do, so its really a non-event, but at the time it was a real challenge to carry that out while not letting the airplane wander at the same time. After a little more practice I soon learned to handle both tasks safely and efficiently. Its funny to look back and remember the challenge it was to fly a simple little C-150. Back then Cessna 150's were still complex and mysterious in my mind's eye. Now it seems like there is nothing to them. The challenge of unlocking that mystery is a richly rewarding process.
It has been the same with learning to fly the Twin Comanche, except on a slightly smaller scale. I remember my first flight in C-FINY when we were down in Texas looking at it as a possibility to buy it. It was thrilling to get to fly in it, and it was also so far above my head. The physics of single engine performance, like Vmc (Minimum controllable airspeed with one engine inop) and blue line (Vyse, airspeed for best rate of climb on one engine) were all a mystery to me, as was flying an airplane with a constant speed propellor and retractable landing gear. I had never done it before, and I hadn't a clue how any of it worked. Those mysteries are starting to be unlocked, but I still look forward to the time when I have completely mastered the airplane and can look back on this point and chuckle at how green I still was.
There are also more things that are still a mystery, like IFR flying that I can look forward to unlocking.
It reminds me of a certain memory I have during primary training. This happened more then four years ago now I think but I still remember the experience vividly. This was a fair amount of time before my solo. We were doing circuits in C-GEBW, the flight school's Cessna 150. I was at the point where I was just flying the airplane, and Paul would do the pre-landing check (Master on, Mags on, fuel selected on, carb heat hot, mixture rich) for me in the downwind and was probably dropping the flaps for me as well on the base leg. I remember I was concentrating very hard on holding my alititude and keeping a straight downwind leg, and Paul decided it was time for me to handle the entire workload. I called for the pre-landing check, and instead of agreeing it was time and doing it, he just said something like, "Why don't you do it this time?." So I said, "Ok, do you have [control of] the airplane?" He just declined to take control and said I was doing fine. The first time I felt a little overwhelmed - I have to FLY the airplane AND do the downwind check on my own!?! I chuckle at it now, because the pre-landing check in the 150 takes less then 5 seconds to do, so its really a non-event, but at the time it was a real challenge to carry that out while not letting the airplane wander at the same time. After a little more practice I soon learned to handle both tasks safely and efficiently. Its funny to look back and remember the challenge it was to fly a simple little C-150. Back then Cessna 150's were still complex and mysterious in my mind's eye. Now it seems like there is nothing to them. The challenge of unlocking that mystery is a richly rewarding process.
It has been the same with learning to fly the Twin Comanche, except on a slightly smaller scale. I remember my first flight in C-FINY when we were down in Texas looking at it as a possibility to buy it. It was thrilling to get to fly in it, and it was also so far above my head. The physics of single engine performance, like Vmc (Minimum controllable airspeed with one engine inop) and blue line (Vyse, airspeed for best rate of climb on one engine) were all a mystery to me, as was flying an airplane with a constant speed propellor and retractable landing gear. I had never done it before, and I hadn't a clue how any of it worked. Those mysteries are starting to be unlocked, but I still look forward to the time when I have completely mastered the airplane and can look back on this point and chuckle at how green I still was.
There are also more things that are still a mystery, like IFR flying that I can look forward to unlocking.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Crosswind Landings
Being able to safely land an aircraft in a crosswind is a must for a pilot. It is actually a very rare day to have the wind directly aligned with the runway, so there's always at least a little crosswind component to the landing. What makes crosswind landings so tricky is drift. Let's say you have a runway running North/South, and you're landing in the magnetic North direction (that means the runway would be called 36. North=360°=36). So we're landing on runway 36, and the wind is out of the west, or 270°. That gives us a 90° crosswind. In order to align ourselves with the runway, we're going to have to point the nose of the aircraft into the wind slightly. The problem this creates is that now the wheels are no longer going to touch down straight, which can impose side loads on the tires, contribute to premature tire wear, and could also make it very difficult to maintain directional control once we've touched down.
There's two techniques you can use to correct this: The crab method and the wing low method. The crab method is much more difficult and requires precise timing with small aircraft (larger jets have a better time using this), so it is not often used. The wing low method is mainly what is being taught for light aircraft, so that is the method I'll explain.
To align the wheels when landing using the wing low method requires the use of both aileron and rudder. You use the
ailerons to bank into the wind, and then opposite rudder to align the nose with the runway. This results in the upwind wing being slightly lower then the other one, which also means that the upwind wheel will touch down first. Naturally the stronger the crosswind the more crosswind correction is required, and the more difficult it becomes.
Today I went up for another lesson in the Twin Comanche. We just reviewed the usuals: steep turns, engine failure in cruise, and engine failure in the overshoot. We also did some circuits, and the air was incredibly bumpy, and the crosswind was nuts too. We were using runway 27 with the winds at 230° at 22 kts gusting to 27. That works out to about a 14 to 17 knot crosswind. Officially the strongest crosswind I've ever flown in. The crosswinds were just about at my personal limits, and they were just on the verge of the airplane's limits too. Richard said I did very well. One landing I had to use full rudder deflection to keep the wheels straight and tracking the runway as we touched down, and it was difficult to maintain directional control after touchdown before we had slowed completely as well. I wouldn't call those crosswind conditions fun, but they were certainly a challenge I was glad I took on. It was quite the adrenaline rush.
With gusty conditions it is impossible to hold the nose steadily aligned with the runway, so timing becomes more critical as you try to touch down at the moment the nose is aligned properly. Your feet are on the rudder pedals kicking back and forth trying to counteract the wind gusts, your right hand is ready on the throttles, and the left hand is on the yoke working the ailerons opposite to rudder direction and making pitch adjustments to keep the airplane in the flare ready to touch down as soon as the nose is straight. Its important that we don't let the airplane touch down until the wheels are aligned with the direction of motion, and its tricky when the wind gusts are blowing the nose back and forth. Quite the challenge, but those are the moments pilots live for - to conquer the airplane even when the elements turn against us.
There's two techniques you can use to correct this: The crab method and the wing low method. The crab method is much more difficult and requires precise timing with small aircraft (larger jets have a better time using this), so it is not often used. The wing low method is mainly what is being taught for light aircraft, so that is the method I'll explain.
To align the wheels when landing using the wing low method requires the use of both aileron and rudder. You use the
ailerons to bank into the wind, and then opposite rudder to align the nose with the runway. This results in the upwind wing being slightly lower then the other one, which also means that the upwind wheel will touch down first. Naturally the stronger the crosswind the more crosswind correction is required, and the more difficult it becomes.Today I went up for another lesson in the Twin Comanche. We just reviewed the usuals: steep turns, engine failure in cruise, and engine failure in the overshoot. We also did some circuits, and the air was incredibly bumpy, and the crosswind was nuts too. We were using runway 27 with the winds at 230° at 22 kts gusting to 27. That works out to about a 14 to 17 knot crosswind. Officially the strongest crosswind I've ever flown in. The crosswinds were just about at my personal limits, and they were just on the verge of the airplane's limits too. Richard said I did very well. One landing I had to use full rudder deflection to keep the wheels straight and tracking the runway as we touched down, and it was difficult to maintain directional control after touchdown before we had slowed completely as well. I wouldn't call those crosswind conditions fun, but they were certainly a challenge I was glad I took on. It was quite the adrenaline rush.
With gusty conditions it is impossible to hold the nose steadily aligned with the runway, so timing becomes more critical as you try to touch down at the moment the nose is aligned properly. Your feet are on the rudder pedals kicking back and forth trying to counteract the wind gusts, your right hand is ready on the throttles, and the left hand is on the yoke working the ailerons opposite to rudder direction and making pitch adjustments to keep the airplane in the flare ready to touch down as soon as the nose is straight. Its important that we don't let the airplane touch down until the wheels are aligned with the direction of motion, and its tricky when the wind gusts are blowing the nose back and forth. Quite the challenge, but those are the moments pilots live for - to conquer the airplane even when the elements turn against us.
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