Features

Pilots are famous for arguing the finer points of various procedures they employ when flying. In recent years, few topics have generated more “discussion” and disagreement than when and how to lean a gasoline-fueled piston-engines fuel mixture. A previous article (“The Red Knob,” April 2011) explored the benefits of modern multi-cylinder engine monitors, closely balanced fuel flow between all cylinders of an engine and the effects leaning from full rich have on parameters like exhaust gas temperature (EGT), internal cylinder pressure (ICP) and cylinder head temperature (CHT).

Those who successfully earn the private certificate or an instrument rating are told many things along the way. Among them is their hard-fought goal is a license to learn; they should carefully consider the first few hours they spend aloft without someone in the right seat; they should consider setting something called “personal minimums” for themselves. All of these suggestions can be helpful to someone who hasnt fully considered all the responsibilities and freedoms their new certificate or rating affords. Meanwhile, some would suggest the best advice a new pilot could receive is “just go fly.” Personal minimums, of course, generally are a set of conditions-not unlike the basic VFR weather minimums or the ceiling and visibility requirements for an instrument approach, but also involving other operational considerations-beyond which a pilot vows not to fly.

Ive done my share of flying to and from soft fields, in a variety of airplanes, including 150s, 172s and my current flivver, a Beech Debonair. The landing portion doesnt require a great deal of planning-presuming the runway isnt too short-and my primary training taught me well enough I never have a problem with the arrival. The departure, however, is another thing entirely. The built-in deceleration a soft field provides on landing works against us on takeoff. Soft terrain, high grass and (my) imperfect technique all combine to lengthen the takeoff roll. I know this, again thanks to my training, and always pull out the AFM/POH or a soft-field takeoff checklist to review the procedures. Ideally, I do that-plus run a basic soft-field takeoff performance calculation-before even committing to go into such a landing area.

I watched a demonstration by the pilot of a U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptor on one of the nicer weather-days at this years Sun n Fun International Fly-In and Expo (the day before the tornado hit). The Raptors most unique characteristic-from an observers standpoint and in addition to its efficient conversation of fuel into noise-is its ability to maneuver at extremely high angles of attack-maintaining a constant AoA of over 60 deg. in sustained flight. Watch an F-22-or any other high-performance aircraft-maneuver, however, and you may notice an interesting pattern. Any time the fighter changes attitude under a G-load, the pilot does so incrementally. He or she changes pitch, then changes bank, or the pilot changes bank and then changes pitch. You never see a radical pitch and bank change simultaneously.

In-flight emergencies are rare in the typical personal aircraft; the machines we fly are not all that complicated and theres not much to go wrong. While our primary training covered many contingencies, type-specific knowledge gained through a rental checkout, perusing the POH/AFM and dual instruction from someone with intimate knowledge of the machine-along with the emergency procedures checklist-should get us through all but the most extraordinary problems. Not everything we might encounter aloft can be anticipated and practiced, however. For instance, we never know how well handle an in-flight emergency until we have one for real.

Controlled flight into terrain, CFIT, accidents afflict pilots of all skill levels-those with rookie-level experience and those with more than enough experience to know better than to fall into the traps leading to an abrupt, final, premature arrival. According to a review of NTSB records, more than 40 CFIT-related accidents occurred in the 10 years ending in 2010. And theyre unforgiving and deadly, with 39 of 43 incurring 112 fatalities. The senselessness of one such accident prompted a former NTSB staff member to suggest a review of the probable-cause report issued in an October 2009 crash. The former staffer felt the abbreviated report left a few questions unanswered; the NTSBs probable-cause cite in the final report read with characteristic candor, citing “the pilots decision to continue VFR flight into instrument meteorological weather conditions which resulted in controlled flight into terrain.”

With a few exceptions, the typical personal aircraft is relatively reliable. Modern, solid-state avionics rarely break, we long ago figured out how to build and maintain mechanical flight instruments and, presuming the airframe is both flown and maintained regularly, dispatch reliability of personal aircraft often can be compared to the modern automobile. But, stuff does break every now and then, usually right before were prepping to launch for a family vacation or an important business trip. Some failures automatically mean going via human mailing tube; others often can be resolved after a couple of hours in the shop. In between those two extremes are equipment failures which may reduce the aircrafts capabilities, but dont materially affect either its airworthiness, ability to fly or safety.

In the last five years, a new crop of small light jets (I promise not to call them VLJs, or very light jets) has entered the marketplace. Aircraft such as the Cessna Model 510 Mustang, Embraer Phenom 100, and yes, the Eclipse 500 are now out there in the hundreds, and they have carved a successful market niche, albeit not the one envisioned by some observers. These airplanes are designed to be flown by single pilots and its fair to ask whether or not our training and safety model for these airplanes will be up to the task. The record so far looks good but we need to look below the surface for the entire story. We should be looking at a cohort of airplanes that are destined for an excellent safety record, if we assume they will reflect the record of previous turbojet models certified for single-pilot operations.

In our January issue, we ran an article, “Slow Down, You Move Too Fast,” which focused on aerodynamic flutter, how high speeds can cause it and what can be done to minimize it. One aspect of the article drew comments and criticism from readers, some of which were published in the Unicom section in our March issue, involved that articles statements referencing a fixed-wing aircrafts never-exceed speed (VNE) as a true airspeed. Many readers rightly took us to task for those statements, pointing out VNE is an indicated airspeed-at least when published for the airplanes they fly-expressing skepticism and questioning our veracity. This article is an attempt to both respond to those valid criticisms and set straight the record associated with never-exceed speeds and our original statements.

Ensuring the aircraft were about to fly is adequate for the mission is one of the reasons we perform preflight inspections. During such inspections, well occasionally find something amiss. Depending on what it is, whether the problem can be remedied before takeoff and the mission, we may decide to depart without it. (The legality of taking off without all equipment functioning is discussed in the article beginning on page 12 of this issue.) Owners tend to know their rides better than a renter knows the airplane he or she has been assigned. We might know, for example, a gentle tap on the oil pressure gauge will awaken it, the landing light has burned out again or the number two comm always has a problem with certain frequencies.