A few months ago, I asked my class of fresh ground school students to plan a short cross-country using nothing but a sectional, a plotter, and an E6-B. The looks I got fell, somewhat predictably, somewhere between confusion and concern, as though I was asking them to navigate using just the stars and a sextant.
“But aren’t there apps that can do all that?” one student asked.
Sure, there are. But that’s not the point.
We live in an age of beautifully integrated electronic flight bags (EFBs), accurate GPS, and real-time data at our fingertips. That’s a gift. But it has also come with a quiet cost. Many pilots, especially those who started flying in the last 10 or 15 years (myself included), have never really been forced to regularly use or rely on pilotage or dead reckoning beyond preparation for a check ride.
The skill set exists in the background but is used infrequently by many in the real world. The moment something needs recalculating, we tend to open up an app. And when the magenta line says to turn, we turn.
Tools or Crutches?
This dependence is understandable. I’ve been guilty of it too. After all, the tools are usually quite dependable and are rather accurate.
But it’s worth asking what happens when they fail. More than that, how is our flying impacted if we never use the deeper skills that gave rise to those tools in the first place? And what happens, for that matter, if we want to jump in the cockpit of a fun old tailwheel without a GPS for some backcountry flying?
Flying without a GPS might seem quaint, maybe even outdated, but it’s an exercise every pilot should practice regularly. Not only does it sharpen your core navigation skills, but it also reinforces something deeper—the discipline, confidence, and situational awareness that define real airmanship.
Planning by Hand
There is value in planning your route by hand, orienting yourself with visual landmarks, and timing legs with a watch instead of simply following a line.
Those who still appreciate analog planning but want smart support for reference once airborne might benefit from something like a purpose-built aviation watch like the Garmin D2 Mach 1 or Garmin D2 Air X10, which can help bridge both worlds without replacing your skills. But either way, it can be done without needing to deploy every digital tool in your arsenal.
The process keeps your head in the game. It trains you to ask better questions about your environment, route, and aircraft’s performance. In short, it makes you a better pilot.
Start with the sectional chart—the paper one. The kind you can spread across the wing of your airplane or tape to the kitchen table.
You’ll notice things immediately. Towns and rivers that don’t stand out on a GPS screen feel a little more real. Airspace boundaries and radio frequencies pop into focus. Your eyes scan for the best visual checkpoints, and your brain begins constructing a mental map.
Lay down the plotter and measure the course. It’s not hard. Once you’ve done it a few times, it becomes second nature. You’ll calculate your true course and consider the wind. Use your E6-B to find your wind correction angle and determine your ground speed.
Whether you prefer the mechanical wheel, an electronic version, or even an app that mimics the same functions, the process matters more than the tool. It forces you to engage with the numbers, not just accept them.
Now you’re building a plan. Check the weather and pick altitudes that keep you in safe airspace and under cloud cover. Choose checkpoints you can identify easily from the air. Calculate time between them. Determine fuel burn, take a second look at your alternates, and consider terrain and obstacles along the way. Consider using a well laid out planner to keep all your numbers organized.
All of this may take an hour or two if you’re out of practice, but it can be done in 20 minutes once you’re comfortable. It can be a frustrating process if you aren’t used to it, but I’ve found there’s a certain “zen” to it all once the process is second nature.
Flying this way keeps you in tune with your surroundings. As a VFR pilot, you should be looking outside the airplane the majority of the time regardless, but when you take the time to plan things out manually, you will be more in tune with what you are looking at. It’s also great for your risk management skills.
The process encourages more and smarter use of your watch and your window. “That should be the lake off to my right in about two minutes,” you think. And then it appears. Or it doesn’t. If it doesn’t, you ask why. You’re not waiting for an alert. You’re the one navigating.
Building Situational Awareness
Pilotage is a powerful tool. When done well, it offers a profound sense of connection to the environment. It helps build and maintain true situational awareness and helps you see how your flight fits into the world around your plane.
Situational awareness is more than knowing where you are. It includes knowing where you are relative to terrain, airspace, other traffic, your fuel reserves, the nearest alternate, and your own personal limits. Good EFBs provide a gold mine of resources to help with that, but only if you know what to ask and when to ask it.
The Airman Certification Standards (ACS) still requires private pilot applicants to demonstrate traditional navigation skills. New pilots need to be ready to be able to demonstrate good cross-country planning, dead reckoning, pilotage, and knowledge of VFR flight plans.
Electronic flight bags are allowed and even encouraged, but most DPEs will want to see that the applicant understands how those numbers were derived. There is a good chance your DPE will “fail” your EFB at some point in flight if you choose to use one, and should thus still be ready to demonstrate “old school” navigation skills. If asked to create a navlog by hand, likewise, the applicant should still be able to do so confidently and efficiently.
There’s nothing wrong with using apps. The problem arises when we stop understanding what they’re doing. If the numbers change, do we know why? If the screen goes blank, do we know what to do next? Practicing manual navigation ensures that we do.
Consider taking a short cross-country flight and navigating without any digital assistance. That doesn’t mean you have to disable your GPS or leave the tablet at home. You can keep it on as a backup or use it for weather and traffic if you like. But navigate using your chart, your clock, and your brain.
Plan your route. Use visual checkpoints. Practice staying organized in the cockpit—a good kneeboard and thoughtfully designed flight bag make use of physical (and digital) charts and flight tools much more manageable. Track your progress by time and sight. Compare your estimates with actuals. Make corrections as needed.
If you’re instructing, challenge your students to do the same. Ask them to identify towns, lakes, and intersections as they plan and as they fly. Cover the GPS or lock the iPad screen, if they are using it, and ask them to estimate when the next checkpoint should come into view.
Create a few diversions and have them work out new headings and time estimates on the fly. Not only will this prepare them for check rides, but it will also get them ready for real-world flying.
Slow Things Down
On that note, there’s value in simulating a GPS outage. Just like we practice engine failures, we should rehearse how we would handle a loss of navigation technology.
Can you divert to another airport using only a chart and, perhaps, an E6-B? Can you estimate your position based on visible landmarks? Can you communicate your location accurately to ATC if needed?
Equipment failures aside, though, one of the significant side effects of flying without GPS is that it slows things down in the best way. The experience becomes more tactile. You’ll find you spend more time looking out the window.
You might notice more of the small things, like how the shadows fall on the hills. You’ll watch how towns and fields pass beneath the wings, and know exactly what you are looking at. All the while, you will become better at staying well ahead of the airplane rather than reacting in the moment.
There’s also something deeply satisfying about knowing that you can do it. That you don’t need the automation to get from Point A to Point B. That you can manage your flight with the tools in your head, your hands, and your lap. That you’re not just riding along. You’re flying.
The tools of traditional navigation are not relics. They are resources that are there to be utilized, practiced, and kept sharp. Like any perishable skill, they fade when unused. But they come back quickly when you invest a little time.
Take the Challenge
Flying without the GPS isn’t a rejection of modern aviation. It’s a reaffirmation of the fundamentals.
You can embrace technology and still hold on to the basics. In fact, that’s probably the best approach—and one that keeps things a lot more fun and interesting. Learn both. Practice both. Be prepared to use whichever tool is appropriate to the moment.
The next time you plan a flight, try doing it the analog way. Use the chart. Do the math. Talk through the plan out loud. Then fly it. Watch the world go by and see how it matches the plan you created.
There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of watching a checkpoint come into view exactly when you expected it.
When you can fly without the magenta line, you’re not just using a system. You are the system. You’re the pilot—and that’s exactly who you should be.
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