Features

For some flights, filing and flying in the IFR system is the way to go. For others, its appropriate to turn off the radios and revel in being one with the machine, without external distractions. Somewhere between these two extremes exists VFR flight following, a neither-fish-nor-fowl compromise of obtaining ATC services on a workload-permitting basis but without as many rules. For many cross-country flights, its the right solution to the question, “Shouldnt you be talking to somebody?” Like so many other things in aviation, theres a right way and a wrong way to go about it. For example, using the mouth to ask for flight following before engaging the brain to efficiently make the request can guarantee a terse “unable.” And once you get your magic squawk code and radar contact is advised, you can relax-a little-satisfied ATC will keep most of the big stuff away from you. But flight following isnt a final solution to your navigation or see-and-avoid procedures.

My most recent night flight involved a relatively short hop across the Florida peninsula. It was one of those humid, heavy summer nights when remnants of the days thunderstorms were still about, forcing FLIB and airliner alike to seek alternate routes and taxing controllers who just wanted a calm evening. Still, I had a few things going for me: Training, currency, experience and the occasional cluster of ground lights denoting a small town. I filed IFR at 8000 feet for this short hop, because I didnt want to try doing it at a level low enough to stay VFR-legal (there are way too many cellphone towers out there these days), and climbing high enough to get above the buildups wasnt practical. It was yet another case where having the instrument rating to spend maybe 90 seconds punching in and out of billowing clouds during a 45-minute flight meant all the operational difference in the world.This was one of those nights where the natural horizon wasnt all that apparent, due to the moist, summer haze over south Florida extending up to my altitude, plus the number and size of the buildups. Although I could see each buildup, and navigate around or through them, the natural horizon wasnt consistently visible.

The balancing act aircraft designers must achieve amazes me. Examples include trading useful load for a strong airframe, cabin volume for reduced drag and high cruise speeds for low-speed handling. And whenever handling stands out as an issue, its generally balanced against whether the airplane also shines in its stability-how, for example, it stays in the attitude we establish and resists any temptation of responding to gusts. Or, when we purposely upset a trimmed attitude, how it naturally tries to return to that attitude. Sure, its likely to “hunt” its way back to trim, but hopefully for just a couple of cycles. The designers mastery always makes an airplanes nimbleness seem that much more impressive-especially if it goes where, how and when you ask, and seeks to stay put in between. Stability counts. But it counts differently for different machine types. Some, like the NASA X-29 research vehicle pictured above, are naturally unstable, and able to sustain controlled flight only through computer processing. In the now-retired X-29s case, computers continually adjusted the control surfaces up to 40 times each second. Others, like a jet transport, are optimized to resist any disturbance and can easily be flown with just two fingers. But any airplane can be made unstable, especially when we load it carelessly, or fly it beyond the regimes its designer intended. Where the average pilot should be concerned is in the many ways we can contribute to its loss of stability.

There are times when every pilot wishes. Wishes the weather was better; wishes the airplane was newer; wishes it was better equipped and wishes that he hadnt promised passengers they would be home on time. And thats usually the way it begins. Wishful thinking for weather-involved flight, in marginal VFR conditions. Fog, rain and low ceilings are important causes of weather-related general aviation accidents. These accidents can be further broken down; inadequate preflight planning and preparation make up a large percentage. Trying to fly VFR in IFR weather is another. Major risks are those pilots who operate beyond their ability, beyond their IFR currency and beyond their experience levels in IFR.

Not so long ago, when using oxygen in the cockpit graduated from the nice-idea to the must-have phase, the equipment took a quantum leap forward. In case you havent looked recently, state-of-the-art oxygen gear is better than ever, so good in fact that it may be time to toss that converted medical junk and upgrade. But what to buy? If your portable system dates back to the days when Loran was the hot choice for navigation, theres no need to spring for a complete new system to benefit from the latest stuff-a cylinder is a cylinder. Instead, upgrading some basic components will make using oxygen easier and cheaper. Sister publication Aviation Consumer recently took a close look at some of the latest products from the top oxygen suppliers in general aviation. What they found was more choices in regulators, flowmeters, cannulas, masks, conservers and monitoring devices, all at competitive prices. In fact, the industry has almost reinvented itself over the last 10 or so years, due in part to advances in the medical market. Just as improvements in consumer electronics have resulted in better, more-capable avionics, those medical advances mean higher-quality and easier-to-use oxygen systems are more accessible than ever.

Almost 20 years ago, I rode coach from JFK to Osaka, Japan on a Northwest Airlines 747-400. Taking my time in deplaning, I managed to sneak a peek at its cockpit and chat briefly with the crew. I was astonished to learn the airplane weighed nearly 900,000 lbs at takeoff, close to or at its maximum gross, and burned almost half that weight in fuel before landing. I can presume the airplanes handling characteristics at takeoff versus landing. While transport pilots routinely operate at maximum weight, the rest of us rarely do. So, on our first gross-weight takeoff in, say, 10 years, the airplanes desire to roll farther and climb more slowly than were accustomed can be an eye-opener. Ive written previously in these pages about how my airplanes FAA-approved maximum gross weight is 250 pounds heavier than its manufacturer intended, thanks to wingtip fuel tanks installed pursuant to a supplemental type certificate (STC). That STC comes with various paperwork, but does not include revised performance charts showing expected takeoff or climb performance. From experience, I know a climb at the higher gross weight requires patience.

One of the things the FAA has done right in recent years involves charting. First, instead of standing by while the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration office responsible for aeronautical charts shut down its printing presses, the FAA established a new office to handle the work and took on the responsibility. Second, as electronic distribution became the norm, not the exception, the FAA made many of its products-including the all-important instrument approach procedure charts-available free of charge. The agency still has a long way to go (see the sidebar on page 10), but were all familiar with how it could be doing much, much worse. Of course, if youre flying one of the new-generation glass panels with built-in electronic charting, all this may seem like old news. And, depending on what youre flying and how, you may not have a requirement for en route charts or terminal procedures in your cockpit. Its likely you still need some kind of paper references, even if your glass panel is the latest and greatest, and even if all its costly databases are kept current. The rest of us are on the look for a simple, cost-effective solution allowing IAPs and en route charts to be displayed electronically. Sectionals, too, perhaps. The degree to which any or all of this is possible depends on how much money youre willing to throw at the problem, and with how many downsides youre willing to deal. Lets take a look why.

Hanging out for some hangar flying with some fellow pilots recently, the lies swapped were covering the spectrum, from weather dodging and electrical-system failures in IMC to cautionary tales circulated about other aviators flights with questionable fuel. But one of our little gang spent most of the session distracted from these obviously important proceedings, preparing for a flight the following morning. A relatively seasoned pilot, he largely zoned out of the session, looking at en route charts, collating his paperwork and notes, and closing out his preparations with a phone call to the destination airport-one hed never before visited. A fairly new pilot of about the same chronological age, but with a far-thinner logbook, offhandedly and inadvertently revealed an approach to planning that drew snorts of disbelief from the veterans, a tough room filled mostly with pilots who flew professionally. “You called the airport?” our middle-aged newbie taunted after the phone call ended. “Airport directories are online; Internet sites are available, along with those new sites with video-and you call?!?” Then came the big mistake. He produced his latest play-pretty, offering it up as the solution to the old pilots needs. “Heck, my handheld GPS has the entire airport directory…whaddaya want to know?”

Were going to do what?” Okay; I dont usually get quite that reaction when I discuss full aerodynamic stalls during a preflight brief with my students receiving checkouts, or flight reviews in high-performance aircraft. But you can see it in their eyes. Many pilots havent practiced full stalls since their private pilot checkride, and a large number of my students in 300-horsepower retractable singles-and especially light twins-have never stalled the airplane they currently fly. No wonder theres trepidation about a maneuver some have not flown in many years. No wonder stalls continue to take lift, and life, away. To reduce the chance a stall might go unrecognized or uncorrected, lets go back to what we learned in our early training, and build upon that knowledge to deal comfortably with what occurs beyond the first stall burble.

Insurance companies have pilot checkout provisions for a reason-the first hours in a new aircraft are higher-risk than routine operations. The week I made an offer on my very first airplane, a pilot crashed and died on his way home in his newly purchased Piper Comanche. I obviously wanted a different outcome for my trip to pick up a new plane. The next week, my co-owner Roger and I would be bringing our newly purchased 1960 Cessna 182-N225M-home to Idaho Falls, Idaho. Unfortunately, our new plane was located in Glenwood Springs, Colo. Picking it up would require a long VFR cross-country flight across the Continental Divide in the middle of winter. We also wanted to make the trip on a weekend, preferably in a single day at a time of year when the days are notoriously short and the weather consistently bad. Our plan was beginning to sound like the opening narrative of an NTSB accident report. Flying a newly purchased plane on a long cross-country trip is a non-routine, high-risk mission. Why? There are numerous factors that can line up the wrong way to complete the chain of events that lead to an accident.