A Preview of NextGen

Over the last year or so an aerial survey company has been threatening to use me as a backup pilot. I had some meetings with a manager, I know one of their pilots and one of their photographers, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. The last news was that I would need 25 hours in the type of aircraft they use or their insurance wouldn't cover me. The implication being that I should get 25 hours in a Cessna 206 somewhere else and then let them know. I thought about explaining to the them that aviation underwriters, when presented with a detailed snapshot of a pilot's experience, will often relent on the popular 25 hours in type requirement. While I appreciate that low time-in-type is a good predictor of possible trouble, it is only one facet and must be considered with overall experience, currency, and level of experience With the pay working out to be tens of dollars an hour and a full teaching schedule that pays better on a busy day, I decided to just let the whole thing slip into the background.

Late last week the weather was marginal in the morning and it was obvious that the forecast was out of alignment with reality. A fairly thick stratus layer was covering the Bay Area and though the forecasters were adamant that the clouds would mix out by midday, I was fairly certain the clearing was going to happen closer to sunset, if at all. I was surprised to get a call from the pilot with the aforementioned company asking me if I wanted to do a check out flight in their aircraft. The weather was not going to allow them to fly their mission and I had no lessons scheduled until the end of the day, so I decided to give it a shot.

After checking the weather, it appeared we could cross the Oakland Hills to the east while remaining VFR under the clouds. The plan would be to get to the Livermore Valley where we'd find high enough ceilings to allow some basic air work. After departing and heading to Lake Chabot, the wisdom of this plan seemed dubious: The cloud ceilings were lower than the surface observations had led us to believe. The result was that this check out flight was high workload since I had to remain VFR under the clouds, look for other aircraft doing exactly what we were doing, constantly evaluate my altitude and terrain clearance, and talk to NorCal. As we made our way east we discovered the cloud ceiling over the Livermore Valley was also lower than anticipated, but it appeared to get better in the next valley to the east. Ah, clearer skies ahead! The siren song heard by all pilots who engage in scud-running.

My newly formed plan was to skirt Livermore's class D airspace to the north, but the ceilings were lower to the north and the terrain clearance was not to my liking. I asked NorCal to terminate flight following with the intention of talking to the Livermore tower to get permission to transition their airspace. So imagine my surprise when NorCal told me "You're below my radar coverage so contact NorCal on 125.35 and ask him for a frequency change." What's up with that! I quickly changed frequency, checked in, and immediately asked to terminate flight following, all the while creeping closer to the lateral limit of class D. The new NorCal controller went through the "Radar services terminated, squawk 1200, frequency change approved" mantra in a slow and leisurely fashion, adding "you should contact Livermore tower, you're pretty close to their airspace." Tell me something I don't know ...

The Livermore tower was helpful, obliquely indicating I was in their airspace at the time I called, but my transition was approved. We finally made it across the Altamont Pass where we could climb a bit higher. Next we discovered the winds were howling at all the nearby airports. I settled on Stockton to do a few touch and goes. My landings were not exactly up to my standards. The crosswind component and gusting certainly didn't help, but no animals or airplanes were harmed.

Returning to Oakland, I found the ceilings north of Livermore were high enough and I skirted their airspace. The twist here was that NorCal hadn't given me a frequency change to the next controller. I queried them about this and was told "You're below radar coverage so expect a hand off in 5 miles. If you lose radio contact, try NorCal on 125.35." Then the controller got very busy with a bunch of pilots doing practice approaches and I couldn't get a word in edgewise. As I approached 5 miles from Lake Chabot, I made an executive decision, changed to 125.35, and checked in. The new controller seemed to be expecting me and after just a few moments, handed me off to Oakland Tower.

Talk about do-it-yourself ATC! Is this what we'll get when the Home Depot business model is ultimately applied to ATC?