I can access practical test standards, present a lesson, quickly calculate aircraft weight and balance, access aircraft checklists, and get weather briefings. Sure it's taken some learning and adapting on my part, but the iPad has made me a more effective and efficient instructor (multi-tasking offered by the latest iOS4.2 is a big help, by the way). My students see me using an iPad, see its capabilities, and naturally test the waters by asking if they should be using one, too. My qualified answer is "Sure, if you want to."
Spare the Rod
Some instructors and pilots see this permissive attitude as heretical. It's a common practice for instructors to deprive student pilots of access to certain equipment as a way to focus their attention and promote learning in a scenario-based teaching approach. A student who spends too much time looking at their instruments instead of outside the cockpit might be helped by the instructor covering up those instruments. When first learning cross-country navigation, it's common for students to navigate using a chart, the magnetic compass, and prominent landmarks before learning to use a GPS receiver or other radio navigation systems. Introducing pilotage as the student's primary mode is crucial because, GPS or not, they must ultimately be able to locate unfamiliar airports with their eyes. But this does not mean that all flight instruments are to be avoided or that GPS usage will make a pilot incompetent.
Where things go South is when instructors become obsessed with thinking that if some deprivation is good, more must be better. This can take the form of "When I was a young pilot, no one used a headset, my instructor smoked cigars inside the plane, and I had to navigate using compass, a stopwatch, and with one hand tied behind my back."
Riiight.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, most new training aircraft come equipped with GPS and autopilots, yet some instructors still pride themselves on refusing to let students use this equipment - ever. Pilots need to recognize this for what it is: kooky talk. Even the FAA requires instructors bestowing solo cross-country privileges on a student (14 CFR 61.93(e)(8)) to ensure the student is proficient with:
Procedures for operating the instruments and equipment installed in the aircraft to be flown, including recognition and use of the proper operational procedures and indications.
Getting Qualified
This gets to the qualified part of my permissive approach: Pilots must show they can competently use any equipment in the plane, understand the limitations of the equipment, have a viable back-up strategy if the equipment fails, and demonstrate they are proficient using the back-up strategy and that their piloting performance is not adversely affected. This applies to everything installed in the plane and, by extension, to any equipment the student decides to bring with them: E6B slide rule, electronic E6B, fancy calculator watch, handheld GPS, or iPad (or any EFB for that matter).
The obvious back-up for an iPad/EFB is a selection of paper charts and a good scenario for EFB users is the simulated failure of their treasured device. It's reassuring to know that one can still locate, unfold, and use a paper chart, or thumb through an Airport/Facilities Directory, or locate a chart in a terminal procedures book. If you don't use a skill, you'll lose that skill.
I teach student pilots to use the autopilot, if one's installed in the airplane and that includes recovering from a runaway trim scenario. Of course they must be proficient at hand flying, but using the autopilot to give them a breather on long flights can actually enhance learning and if it reduces fatigue, it's the safe thing to do. Flying with an autopilot isn't cheating, it's a different kind of flying that need to be understood and practiced. A student of mine was about to go for his check ride recently and he asked if he could use the autopilot while planning his in-flight diversion. My response was "Sure, tell the examiner what you're doing. Of course he may tell you that you may not use the autopilot ..."
Share the Wealth
There's more and more cool stuff out there everyday and a lot of it, used intelligently, can make flying safer, easier, cheaper, and more enjoyable. New stuff needs to be properly learned, understood, and managed. And that means instructors need to stay current and learn the new stuff rather than steadfastly embracing old school. From the beginning, change has defined aviation and the new stuff just keeps coming. Thankfully, there's no turning back.
The concept of automation surprise has been around for years in the large aircraft world and now it's part of the GA aircraft that you are flying or might soon be flying. Automation surprise occurs when a system, such as a GPS receiver and/or autopilot, does something the pilot neither expected nor intended. The result is that the aircraft deviates from an assigned heading, route, altitude, or approach path and the pilot may lose situation awareness, too. Actually, it's the pilot-in-command who is considered to have deviated, not the plane or it's systems and blaming the machine is an argument that's probably not going to hold water. With all the technically-advanced GA aircraft out there, automation surprise is now something that GA pilots must understand and be ready to handle.
While I don't pretend to be a human factors expert, I've both witnessed and been on the receiving end of automation surprise on several occasions. Most of the surprises I've seen in GA aircraft resulted from the pilot making mode errors - not fully understanding the consequences of their knob twisting and button pushing. Yet I have also seen deviations result from equipment failures and even from shortcomings in the design of an instrument procedure. There can be a seemingly endless number of ways for things to go wrong in a complex, automated environment and while we may want to never make any errors, mistakes are going to happen. I'll provide just a few examples of how things can get out of hand when technology is busy making the pilot's job easier and what you can do when the magic turns evil.
Operator Error Here's a mistake I've witnessed many pilots make with the two-axis KAP-140. ATC instructs "... climb and maintain 7000." You decide it's time for George to do some flying. So you press and hold AP for 1.5 seconds, then press HDG, then select 7000 feet, then press ALT, and are subsequently confused as to why the KAP-140 won't allow you to use the UP button to select a vertical climb rate.
The key is understanding that the KAP-140 goes into VS (vertical speed) mode by default when your press the AP button. The mistake was pressing ALT, which engages altitude hold mode irrespective of the altitude you just dialed in - an odd design, to say the least! Pressing ALT a second time restores VS mode and allows you to enter a vertical climb rate. The problem is that the second time you press ALT to enter vertical speed mode, the altitude you selected is not armed. That means you'll climb, but the KAP-140 will not capture the selected altitude and if you're not paying attention, you'll bust your clearance. Blast!
Having your own SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for autopilot use, combined with actually looking at the modes being displayed, can help circumvent this problem. A better knobology sequence would be: Dial in 7000 feet, pitch up for the desired climb rate, press and hold AP for 1.5 seconds, then press HDG, then press ARM. This results in the following KAP-140 display: HDG [AP] VS 7000 ALT Armed. The KAP-140 will climb at 500 feet per minute, fly the bugged heading, and level off at 7000 feet.
Unexpected Mode Changes In an effort to make the pilot's job easier, Garmin's G1000 will automatically switch the navigation source from GPS to a localizer on an ILS, LOC or LDA approach. Interestingly, the G1000 won't automatically switch back to GPS for the missed approach procedure - you must manually switch the navigation source back to GPS. While this may sound like a good feature, it actually creates unintended consequences in aircraft equipped with a Bendix/King KAP-140 autopilot. Here's the setup.
You're flying the Concord LDA RWY 19R approach, approaching from the South, you've requested pilot navigation, Travis Approach has approved, and you're cleared to "cross KANAN at or above 4000' cleared LDA 19 right approach." You've selected and activated the approach on the G1000 with KANAN as the IAF. Your KAP-140 autopilot is engaged in NAV and ALT modes and it is flawlessly tracking a direct course to KANAN.
Crossing KANAN, the GPS sequences to fly the procedure turn and the KAP-140 continues to do a great job. You select 2500 feet, press ALT to enter VS mode, press DN a few times to command a 400'/min descent, and remove some power to keep the airspeed under control. The GPS and the KAP-140 turn the airplane to the outbound procedure turn, then after a minute, they turn the airplane inbound to intercept the approach course.
Reaching 2500 feet, you restore some power and the G1000 then automatically switches the navigation source to the localizer. If you're not observant, you will miss this mode change. The HSI needle changes color from magenta (for GPS) to green (for the localizer) and the switch in navigation source causes the KAP-140 to silently enter ROL mode. That's right, there's no aural alarm to alert you that this mode change has happened, just ROL flashing on the KAP-140 display - which is out of your primary field of view. If you don't realize the KAP-140 is in ROL mode, the airplane will fly right through the localizer. Ooops!
One SOP you could use to prevent this is to always change the KAP-140 to HDG, manually change the navigation source to the localizer, and follow the GPS prompts to manually command the procedure turn using the heading bug. Once you've turned inbound to intercept the localizer, press NAV and the KAP-140 will capture the localizer course.
Missing the Missed Approach The Garmin G1000, as well as the 430/530 GPS receivers, can help you fly the missed approach using GPS navigation as long as everything goes as planned. For an ILS approach, the GPS must handle two possible cases: The full ILS and a localizer-only approach. The GPS considers the MAP to be at the runway threshold, even though the MAP on an ILS is technically at decision height, on glide slope, and on the localizer course.
For these GPS receivers to suspend waypoint sequencing, you need to fly over the MAP at the runway threshold. Only then can you press the OBS key (or softkey) to re-enable waypoint sequencing, switch the navigation source back to GPS, and fly the missed approach using the GPS. If you don't fly over the MAP, waypoint sequencing won't be suspended and you'll need to do some more work to activate the missed approach. If you don't understand this GPS behavior, you could find yourself very confused at a high workload moment. Do'h!
Procedure Problems Though rare, automation surprise may occur due to the way an instrument procedure was designed. This is exactly what happened to a pilot I was flying with recently on an approach I had flown many, many times before. The thing is, it had been quite a while since I flew this approach and the procedure had changed. Here's what happened.
The pilot requested the Sacramento Executive ILS RWY 2 practice approach with the published missed approach. Approach responded "... cross COUPS at or above 3000, cleared ILS 2 practice approach." The pilot selected the approach and activated it with COUPS as the initial approach fix. The autopilot was engaged in NAV mode and flew us to COUPS. What happened next was both dramatic and unexpected.
Reaching COUPS, the GPS commanded a 41 degree heading change to the left from a 015 track to a 334 track to navigate to the newly added Computer Navigation Fix (CNF) UBIYI: A 41 degree heading change for a leg that is only 0.2 miles long! The groundspeed was only 110 knots, but there was no time for GPS turn anticipation to smooth this out. As soon as the GPS commanded a turn to the left, it commanded a turn back to the right as the airplane blew through the approach course. It happened so fast that we both wondered what was wrong. Was this a GPS error or an autopilot error?
No sooner had we begun to doubt the automation, the plane was headed back to intercept the localizer. You have to look really closely at the chart to see that the GPS and the KAP-140 were just trying to fly the approach as it is coded. I emailed the FAA to suggest they take another look at the unintended consequences of the change that was made. Good idea!
Ounce of Prevention The primary ways a pilot can prevent automation surprise are both simple and straightforward:
Know your own limits with regard to currency/proficiency
Know thy aircraft's equipment
Monitor what the automated systems are doing
Stay ahead of (or at least be in synch with) ATC's game plan
Maintain situational awareness
Develop and use SOPs (standard operating procedures)
And be prepared to catch and correct errors.
I'd like to be able to tell you that the average pilot can fly a G1000-equipped aircraft once a month and maintain instrument proficiency. Sadly, this is usually not the case. Unless you are practicing regularly with a G1000 PC Trainer or other simulator, you'll get rusty - fast! Part of this erosion of skill is due to the vast number of features the G1000 offers, but much of the problem lies in the user interface's annoying design that requires you to recognize subtle changes in operational modes. I don't want to mince words here: The G1000 and other GA GPS receivers are not easy to use. They require regular use and practice for pilots to maintain proficiency.
PC-based simulators can be an effective and inexpensive way to maintain your instrument chops, but you need to have a plan. Sitting down and just screwing around is not going to serve you well. As they say in the music world: "If you play when you practice, you'll practice when you play."
A suggestion I've made before is to treat your autopilot and GPS like you would a low-time private pilot. It's okay to trust the systems, but monitor them to ensure they are doing what you intended. This is particularly important during transitions to climbs, descents, level-offs, turns to a heading, and intercepting and tracking a navigational course. So periodically interrupt whatever you were doing to ensure George is still flying the plane the way you intended. Did it capture the altitude you programmed? Has it intercepted the navigational course you intended? Is the autopilot still operating in the mode(s) you intended? If not, promptly drop what you are doing, intervene, fly the plane, and then try to determine why or George will trim you into a stall, flying you into the ground, or take you off course.
Remember that you are the last line of defense when automation goes bad. Never, ever forget that fact.
Research into human multi-tasking, especially an often-cited study by Carnegie Mellon University, has shown that there are significant neurological costs associated with switching between multiple tasks, something that happens a lot in single-pilot instrument flying. For example, when subjects in the CMU study were told to imagine rotating an object while listening to complex sentences, their performance on both tasks dropped significantly. Guess that helps explain why pilots flying single-pilot IFR miss so many radio calls from ATC and why long periods of hand-flying can be so tiring. Trying to multi-task does not make us stupid per se, but it does reduce our performance.
Most newer GA aircraft are equipped with autopilots and this is a good trend. I can't think of one instrument instructor I've spoken to who doesn't believe a functioning autopilot to be a critical safety factor in single-pilot flying. Effective use of an autopilot might not make you a smarter, but it can improve your performance, reduce fatigue, and keep you from doing something stupid.
It's common for me to encounter pilots who have never been trained in the use of autopilots and lack system-level knowledge. Some pilots may even have been taught, or they subscribe to the notion, that using the autopilot is cheating. I believe that autopilot knowledge is important, so even student pilots who train with me in autopilot-equipped aircraft must to demonstrate competence in using George (a common monicker for the autopilot). Of course they also need to demonstrate stick-and-rudder hand-flying skills, too.
Consider the recent events in Florida where a low-time private pilot had to take control of a King Air B200 after the pilot became incapacitated and then died. One of the first issues facing the pilot was how to wrest control of the aircraft from the autopilot. You never know when an understanding of autopilot flying could come in handy!
Before George can be your buddy, you must understand him and a good way to start is to read the documentation for your particular aircraft. A/P information is usually found in your aircraft's Approved Flight Manual in the Supplements section. Since this section is toward the back of the AFM, pilots seem to never get to reading this important stuff. Once you've found the supplement, you'll see that it follows the same GAMA format that is used in most AFM - Limitations, Emergency Procedures, Normal Procedures, System Description, Performance, and so on. Reading the supplement can help you avoid these common A/P mistakes.
Failing to know or respect the A/P limitations
Lack of system-level knowledge
Not understanding the modes of operation
Trial-and-error button pushing
Failing to recognize undesired or uncommanded mode changes
Know George's Limits
The Limitations section of the autopilot supplement usually contains the following limits. Your autopilot may list other limits, too.
Minimum altitude for engaging after takeoff
Minimum and maximum airspeeds with the A/P engaged
Maximum flap configuration with the A/P engaged
Minimum altitude for flying precision and non-precision approaches
A/P use in airframe icing conditions
I frequently encounter pilots who don't know or respect the altitude limitations for their autopilot. These altitude limitation are based, in part, on the maximum predicted altitude loss that could occur should the autopilot malfunction. Knowing these numbers are critical and could save you should your autopilot malfunction at the end of an instrument approach down to minima.
Trust, but Verify
Most manufacturer's documentation will state that the A/P may not be used in flight unless it was first tested on the ground prior to flight. Don't confuse this preflight functional test with the system self-test that many units will perform when they are powered on or that you initiate by pressing a TEST button. Many manufacturers' checklists don't include the numerous steps for the autopilot functional test in their normal checklist, so use the procedure found in the supplement.
The preflight test usually includes engaging the autopilot, verifying resistance on the pitch and roll axes, engaging the heading and navigation functions and verifying that the roll inputs are correct. The last step is to disengage George, so you may as well test the A/P prior to verifying the flight controls are free and correct. The actual test procedure varies by model of autopilot, so always use the manufacturer's procedure for your particular unit. For convenience, some pilots create their own aircraft checklist that includes the manufacturer's A/P preflight test.
If the autopilot fails the pre-flight test, don't use it in flight! What's more, you should disable the autopilot (usually by pulling and wire-wrapping the circuit breaker), placard the autopilot as inoperative, and make a maintenance log entry per 14 CFR 91.213. You should also consider the added risk of a single-pilot IFR flight with an inoperative autopilot. A long flight in IMC without an autopilot may entail risks you're not willing to take.
Ain't Misbehavin'
To use an A/P effectively, you must understand what equipment provides pitch and roll inputs to your particular autopilot. For example, the King KAP140, popular in Cessna aircraft, receives roll input from an electrically-driven turn coordinator. Two-axis KAP 140 autopilots sense changes in pitch with an accelerometer and through static pressure changes via a dedicated pitot system. The autopilot/flight director in the Caravans I used to fly receive pitch and roll inputs from a special attitude indicator (called an attitude deviation indicator) that was often vacuum-driven. Once you understand how your A/P senses pitch and roll, you'll be better prepared to know when George is sick and not to be trusted.
If George malfunctions, and malfunctions are quite possible, you'll need to know all the ways to disengage him. A disconnect button (often red in color) is usually provided on the left yoke and many A/Ps will provide an aural alarm when the autopilot disengages. Pilots not used to autopilots often mistake the disconnect button for the communication radio's push-to-talk button. Some A/P systems (like the KAP 140) will disconnect if the pilot uses the electric trim switch. Pulling the A/P circuit breaker may be your last resort if George is being disagreeable and won't disengage in the normal fashion. Again, let the manufacturer's documentation for your particular autopilot be your guide.
The State You're In
Autopilots usually have a variety modes of operation for roll and pitch control. Lateral (roll) modes include simply holding the wings level, following the heading bug on the HSI or heading indicator, or intercepting and tracking a navigation source.
Vertical (pitch) modes are provided in two-axis A/Ps and include maintaining altitude, climbing or descending at a particular rate or airspeed, and tracking a vertical navigation source (ILS glideslope or GPS glidepath or vertical path). Some A/Ps will allow you to specify an altitude to capture when climbing or descending. You may also be able to specify the vertical speed (feet per minute) or airspeed (in knots) you want the autopilot to maintain in the climb or descent. Light GA aircraft A/Ps don't (yet) control engine power, so you'll need to manage the throttle yourself.
The adage "Garbage in, garbage out" applies to autopilots: You can command George to enter a climb or a descent that may exceed the capabilities of your aircraft or cause you to enter a stall. Remember that while George may be controlling the plane, you are pilot in command. Never let George take you in any direction or into any flight condition you don't want to go.
Most autopilots will display the current lateral and vertical modes as well as any modes that are armed. For example, many autopilots allow you to engage heading mode, set the heading bug to an intercept for a VOR or GPS course, and then arm NAV (navigation) mode. As the selected navigation course comes alive, the A/P will switch to NAV mode and track the desired navigational course (VOR, localizer, or GPS).
Many autopilots (but not all) will not only track a localizer course, they will also descend on a glideslope for an ILS. The recommended procedure for engaging this approach mode is usually to start out in NAV mode, with the A/P tracking the localizer. Command the A/P to descend to the published glideslope intercept altitude at the appropriate time and capture that altitude. Then arm the approach mode and you should see an indication that the glideslope is armed. As the glideslope is intercepted from below, the autopilot will pitch down to track the glideslope. You'll need to manage the power and be ready to disconnect the A/P at or slightly before the decision height.
It's critical that you read the display before you start impulsively pushing buttons. This is by far the most common error I see pilots make. Trial and error is not a productive activity to be engaged in during a high-workload phase of flight close to the ground and it usually belies a lack of understanding of basic autopilot functions and modes.
The KAP 140 display, for example, shows the selected modes in the top half of the A/P display and any modes that are armed are shown in the lower half of the display. Here's the KAP 140 set to maintain altitude (ALT), track the heading bug (HDG), and intercept the current navigation course (NAV ARM).
The G1000 with the GFC 700 autopilot displays its mode information right above the attitude indicator on the primary flight display. Here's the GFC 700 set to intercept the a localizer and descend to 3,300 feet. The active modes are displayed in green and the armed modes in white. The lateral navigation, shown on the left side, is heading mode (HDG shown in green) with the NAV mode armed to capture the localizer (shown as LOC in white). The center field shows the A/P is active (AP in green). The vertical navigation mode is vertical speed (VS shown in green) with a 300 foot per minute descent rate to capture the selected altitude of 3,300 feet (shown as ALTS in white).
Here's the GFC 700 tracking the localizer and the glideslope.
Given all the possible combinations of autopilot modes, I recommend pilots receive training and then do some VFR practice before relying on the autopilot in instrument conditions. You'll need to regularly practice your autopilot skills to stay sharp, but you need to maintain your hand-flying skills, too. A G1000 simulator or PC-based trainer are great ways to accomplish autopilot training.
Letting George Help
Pilots often complain that using the autopilot isn't real flying, but it's really just another type of flying. To maintain proficiency, you'll need to practice both hand-flying and autopilot flying regularly. Successful A/P use depends on good systems management and a good manager knows when to delegate. You shouldn't hesitate to let George fly the plane during high-workload phases of flight, such as:
Flying in complex airspace with lots of traffic
Flying a complex departure procedure
While evaluating XM weather displays or radar returns
While copying a complicated clearance or holding instruction
While briefing an instrument approach or STAR (Standard Terminal ARrival)
When being vectored to an approach
Flying an approach close to minima
Flying an approach when you are fatigued
Flying the missed approach (above the minimum altitude for A/P engagement)
While performing an abnormal or emergency check list
It's a Wrap
Newer autopilots have brought the flight director concept to light GA aircraft. The flight director (FD) displays command bars on the attitude indicator providing visual clues to the flight control inputs you need to make. It can be harder to recognize that something is wrong when the FD alone is being used because you're busy flying the plane and following the command bars - remember that study on multi-tasking and performance? So do your best to divide your attention and make sure the pitch and roll suggestions made by the FD are what you intended. If they aren't, it's best to disengage the FD, hand-fly, and re-engage the FD or AP when you've figured out what was set incorrectly.
If you fly an autopilot-equipped aircraft, become proficient with it's operation. Read the manual, get some instruction, and be sure to practice both hand-flying and managing the autopilot. And remember that being proficient in autopilot management isn't cheating, it's often the smart thing to do.
I've read with great interest some assertions about Cirrus aircraft, the pilots who fly them, and whether or not the airframe parachute makes the Cirrus pilot safer or just emboldens them to take risks. By now most of you know that on Sunday, March 15, 2009, a 64-year old instrument-rated private pilot flying a new Cirrus SR22 elected to deploy his aircraft's airframe parachute shortly after takeoff from Montgomery County Airport in Gaithersburg, Maryland. He departed runway 34 and his plane came to the ground about a half mile from the airport, no injuries were reported on the ground, the pilot walked away, and the aircraft was substantially damaged. It's dangerous to generalize, but I feel compelled to make some observations about this particular accident, the pilot's decision to launch into the weather, the efficacy of Cirrus door latches, and under what conditions a Cirrus pilot should consider deploying the 'chute.
The pilot involved in this particular accident was reported to have had 320 hours total time and I'm assuming, given his age, that he came to flying later in life. None of the reports I've read give any specific numbers, but given his total time and the fact that his last certificate was issued in June of 2007, it seems reasonable to assume that he didn't have much experience with solo flying in IMC. A low time pilot with a powerful and capable aircraft can be a dangerous, sometimes even deadly combination, and this accident would seem to reinforce that belief. And let's be clear that while this accident happened to involve a Cirrus, most any brand of high-performance aircraft will do.
An important part of instrument training involves making a competent go/no-go decision. Heck, it's explicitly called out in the Instrument Rating PTS as something the candidate must demonstrate. I sat on the ground a few years back with a Cirrus owner while we waited for the weather to clear. The radiation fog was thick and the surface winds were gradually starting to increase and mix out the fog, which made waiting all the more uncomfortable. But wait we did because, parachute or not, the conditions did not meet my minima for departure.
Turn in your hymnals to 14 CFR 91.175 and you'll find specific departure weather restrictions for aircraft operating under 14 CFR 135 and 121. Taking off under conditions with zero visibility and zero ceiling is not expressly forbidden when operating under part 91, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea nor does it mean that if you do so and you run into problems that you won't be scrutinized for violating 14 CFR 91.11 (Careless or reckless operation) - endangering the life or property of another. In our Me First society, it is easy to forget that our actions may indeed have adverse effects on others. This is where an instrument instructor's job of teaching risk management begins.
The accident pilot elected to launch with a reported ceiling of 400 feet and 2 miles visibility. Shown above are the takeoff minima published for Gaithersburg, which don't specify any ceiling or visibility. That means the 14 CFR 91.175 standards of 1 mile visibility for aircraft with two engines or less apply to part 135 and 121 operators. Technically the accident pilot was not prohibited from departing since he was operating under part 91.
The absolute lowest personal departure minima for a single-engine aircraft that I recommend to pilots I train for the instrument rating are pretty simple: The surface weather observation must be equal to or better than the highest circling minima (ceiling and visibility) for the airport, just in case an emergency return is required. In a twin-engine aircraft, I'm still pretty conservative and recommend the conditions be no lower than the highest straight-in minima of all non-precision approaches available at the departure airport.
When I flew freight in the Caravan, my company's procedures allowed us to depart in some really crummy conditions. On several occasions, I departed when the greater Bay Area was blanketed fog and with low IFR conditions at all nearby major airports. And you know what? It gave me the creeps every time I did it.
I've never flown into Gaithersburg, but a quick review of the available approaches show the following circling minima.
GAI NDB RWY 14 - 1 SM vis & 1380 feet MSL, 841 feet Height Above Threshold GAI VOR RWY 14 - 1 SM & 1200 feet MSL, 677 feet HAT GAI RNAV (GPS) RWY 14 - 1.5 SM & 1020 feet MSL, 481 feet HAT
In case you're wondering what I'm getting at, the low-time instrument-rated accident pilot took a pretty big risk when he chose to depart with 2 miles visibility and an overcast ceiling of 400 feet at an unfamiliar airport.
I've written before about my experiences with the door latches on a Cirrus SR22 that I used to fly. Quite frankly, I found the performances of these door latches stinks. Cirrus, in an apparent quest to make the aircraft seem as much like an automobile as possible, tried to implement a slam-and-shut-style automobile door. This just in: A high-performance single-engine aircraft is not a car. My experience showed me that the latches on an SR22 G2 must kept adjusted just right by a mechanic and the pilot had best ensure the doors are secured, top and bottom, before taking off. Interesting, the door latches on an older SR20 that I used to fly had a very positive door mechanism with a latching handle.
So a door popping open on a Cirrus is not uncommon and the AFM even has a procedure for handling it - abort the takeoff if you can, otherwise reduce your speed and land as soon as practical. A door popping open can be distracting as hell, especially to a low-time pilot, but the slipstream will keep the door mostly shut. You just need to reduce the airspeed and return to land. Of course, returning to land is going to be a lot easier if you at least have circling minima.
When I flew the Cirrus regularly, I followed all the recommended Cirrus Airframe Parachute System (CAPS) procedures. This included removing the safety pin from the activation handle before takeoff and installing the safety pin after landing. If you don't remove the pin, you simply can't be ready to deploy the parachute quickly in an emergency. I've read of several fatal accidents involving Cirrus where NTSB investigators, combing through the wreckage, found the CAPS safety pin firmly in place on the deployment handle.
Even though I followed the CAPS procedures and I regularly reviewed the deployment procedures, my mindset when flying the SR22 was that CAPS deployment was going to be an absolute last resort. The AFM gives some suggested situations where CAPS deployment is warranted:
Mid-air Collision
Structural Failure
Loss of Control
Landing in Inhospitable Terrain
Pilot Incapacitation
After the door opened, the accident pilot reported that his intention was to turn back and land at Gaithersburg. The accident pilot says the plane entered an unusual attitude and he let the airspeed get low, the aircraft stalled and started to enter a spin. The accident pilot said he had pressed the magic button (the autopilot Level button) to get the plane stabilized, but decided he couldn't wait for the magic button to do its magic. He was also concerned about entering restricted airspace nearby and was unfamiliar with the Gaithersburg airport environment. So he pulled the 'chute.
I'm glad he's okay and that no one on the ground was hurt, but this all seems so preventable. Low time pilots in high-performance aircraft with airframe parachute systems can learn a lot from this accident. "'Chute first" is a potentially dangerous and definitely expensive procedure. The hard questions need to be asked and answered on the ground, before the clouds are approaching, the door has opened, or the engine has quit and you feel the urge to pull that T-shaped handle.
When pilots talk of stick and rudder skills they tend to downplay fancy instruments, instead emphasizing courage and seat-of-the-pants flying skills using the primary flight controls. In fact, I recently heard a claim that the advent of glass cockpit training aircraft is resulting in a new breed of pilots who aren't adept at physically controlling their aircraft. This out-of-hand argument against glass panel aircraft rings hollow to me because the important part of the training equation has always been the pilot and the instructor, not so much the aircraft.
Some instructors tend to emphasize the parts of training they personally find enjoyable or challenging. Precision landings, slips, stalls, pilotage and dead reckoning are just a few examples of possible fixations that can eclipse other important training. It's easy to imagine that some instructors might want to focus on the intricacies of G1000 operations just as it's easy to imagine an instructor spending too much time on power-off approaches to landing. Training fixations can be more directly related to the instructor's biases (or career goals) than to the training aircraft or the student. Professional instructors should strive to provide a well-rounded training experience and that means taking inventory of one's own biases and how they might be affecting the pilots you're training.
Instructors who suffered through the Fundamentals of Instruction remember the Law of Primacy, which states that a student pilot's early experiences will make a strong and memorable impression. A related concept is the Law of Intensity, which posits that vivid experiences are more easily retained and remembered than boring, tedious experiences. Put these two concepts together and it's easy to see why early training tends to shape the way a pilot will fly for the rest of their life, for better or for worse.
I often fly with pilots whose aircraft control is unrefined and this is not because they are incapable of flying smoothly, it is because they were never taught to do so. I believe poor aircraft control can often be traced to a sink-or-swim style of flight instruction: The instructor sits in the right seat and may give directions, offer suggestions, or shout orders, but basically refuses to touch the controls unless the plane and its occupants are in imminent danger. I guess the intent behind this approach is that it will build the student's confidence and self-reliance, but the reality is that there is no single way to successfully teach someone to fly. What the student actually learns in the sink-or-swim environment is pretty much limited by the student's personality, values, and their reaction to the training because a crucial item is missing: The instructor is failing to model desirable piloting behavior and technique, which are two important components of the adult learning process.
I remember taking on a student pilot with a susceptibility to motion sickness. His previous instructor's approach to dealing with this was a seemingly never-ending diet of slow flight, stalls, and even spins. The brute force approach had actually made things worse and this pilot was on the verge of abandoning aviation altogether. We spent many hours in the air and on the ground discussing techniques for dealing with adverse reactions to flight and (gasp!) talking about his feelings and emotions during different aspects of training. A testament to this pilot's determination and courage was that he stuck with aviation, found creative solutions to his roadblocks, and ultimately passed his check ride.
Instructors are pilots, too, and we are not immune to the profound effects of our own initial training: Many instructors teach flying exactly the way they were taught. My own decision to become an instructor was precisely the result of some of the hideous training I endured. Not all the instruction I received was bad, but I felt it was possible to do better. Later, I was fortunate to fly with pilots, many of who weren't even instructors, who had considerably more flight and life experience and who provided excellent examples of airmanship. Learning from other pilots is actually quite easy provided you pay attention, watch what they do, ask questions, and then have a chance to model their behavior. Monkey see, monkey do. It sounds crude, but it can be a very effective way to learn and is a cornerstone of adult learning.
Training aircraft with glass panels are a relatively new phenomenon and many instructors out there learned to fly with steam gauges or maybe in an aircraft that didn't even have any radios at all. Learning new technology can be a challenge for these instructors since they have to overcome their own initial training and (I'm going to be brutally honest here) their own fear of equipment they don't understand. Furthermore, the complexity of these glass panel aircraft requires a more sophisticated and academic approach to training than the old sink-or-swim or monkey-see-monkey-do techniques. Like it or not, we are heading squarely into an age where average, run-of-the-mill aircraft are going to be equipped with GPS, autopilots, and more.
The FAA has long recognized the need for a standardized way to evaluate piloting skill, which is why there is a set of Pratical Test Standards. These standards are used by Designated Pilot Examiners when they administer a practical test for a certificate or rating. No system of standards can cover every eventuality, but the FAA's set work pretty darn well. Some argue (correctly, I think) that the PTS defines a minimum set of standards. An accomplished pilot should eventually be able to perform beyond those standards, whether the aircraft has a glass panel or steam gauges.
Training to proficiency, improving one's skills, and deepening one's mastery of the aircraft doesn't happen overnight, it should be a life-long goal. Instructors play an important role in this on-going process as does continuing education for pilots and instructors alike. Glass panels don't make or break the pilot, but a thorough, proficient, and technologically savvy instructor can.
At several of the holiday parties I attended, the topic of a recent small plane accident came up. Small planes crashing usually don't make too much news unless someone on board was famous (such as JFK Jr. or Steve Fossett) or the crash site was particularly spectacular and lives were lost on the ground. The crash I was being asked about seemed intriguing to non-pilots because the accident claimed the life of Michael Connell, who was scheduled to testify in an investigation regarding alleged voter fraud in Ohio. Adding to the interest were reports that Mr. Connell had cancelled some previous flights due to mechanical issues and an acquaintance of his seemed concerned that Mr. Connell's plane might have be sabotaged in order to silence him.
Non-pilots' imaginations might run wild at times like these, but most pilots don't like to speculate on the cause of a crash when little information is available. When I was first asked my opinion, the FAA had not even issued a preliminary accident report. So I listened to what people had heard and read. Based on that scant information, I tried to give an educated guess about the pilot, his aircraft, his mission, and the weather. All I knew initially was that the plane crashed somewhere Akron, Ohio, that it was a single-engine aircraft, that Connell was the sole occupant, and the aircraft crashed a few miles from the Akron-Canton Regional Airport, in a residential neighborhood. One news report quoted someone as saying that Connell was a "very experienced" pilot.
The prudent response to questions about an aircraft accident is to focus on the facts, but few were available. Even so, I opined that sabotage seemed unlikely, since the aircraft crashed at the end of a flight rather than the beginning. Another possibility suggested, suicide by airplane, seemed unlikely since the plane crashed during an instrument approach. Who would go to all that trouble if they were just planning to intentionally fly their plane into the ground or the side of a mountain? My answer at the time was that the likely cause for these sorts of accidents usually turned out to be fuel exhaustion or the pilot losing control of the aircraft for some reason. Sabotage, however intriguing, was wild speculation.
A preliminary NTSB report has now been released for this accident and the factors in this accident that are beginning to emerge could prove enlightening for other GA pilots.
45 year old Michael Connell held a private pilot Airplane Single-Engine Land certificate with Instrument Airplane privileges. His third class medical certificate was issued in October of 2007 and at that time he reported 510 hours of flight time. About a year later, one would assume that Connell probably had at least 600 hours at the time of the accident and this would have made him "somewhat experienced" in my book. As an instrument pilot, it seems unlikely that he had logged more than 100 hours of instrument time and probably little of that as pilot-in-command. According to FlightAware, the accident aircraft (presumably piloted by Connell) had flown at least 13 times in the four months preceding the crash and that would lead me to believe that Connell knew his aircraft fairly well.
The accident aircraft was a 1998 Piper Saratoga II, high-performance turbo-charged single-engine piston aircraft with a retractable landing gear. The internet being what it is, you can find photos of the accident aircraft when it was posted for sale in April of 2003. At that time, the aircraft reported 1055 hours on the engine and airframe since new. Also at that time, the aircraft was equipped with Garmin 530 and 430 GPS receivers, an autopilot with flight director, and a slaved HSI. The plane had a full set of co-pilot instruments but it did not appear to be equipped for, nor certified for, flight into known icing conditions.
The crash occurred in night meteorological conditions at the completion of a flight that originated at College Park Airport in Maryland. According to FlightAware, the aircraft (presumably piloted by Connell) had made flights between these two airports many times in the previous months. Even so, a single-pilot night IMC flight is inherently risky for a relatively low-time pilot and when things go wrong in these conditions, statistics show the results are very likely to be fatal.
According to the NTSB report, Connell was vectored to intercept the ILS RWY 23 localizer two miles from the outer marker and this is where things started to unravel. The controller noticed the aircraft was "well left of the localizer" and offered to vector him back to try again. Connell reportedly said he was correcting and that indicated he wanted to press on. The NTSB report doesn't mention a handoff to the Akron Tower, but at 2.5 miles from the airport, about halfway between the final approach fix and the runway threshold, Connell asked permission to perform a 360 degree turn.
A request for a 360 degree turn for aircraft on an ILS approach and inside the final approach fix is very odd, to say the least. At this point, the Akron surface weather reported 9 miles of visibility, but a broken ceiling of 500 feet and an overcast ceiling at 1000 feet. The controller (presumably the Akron Tower) instructed Connell to climb and maintain 3000 feet and I'd imagine the controller's intent was to hand him back to the approach controller. The controller asked Connell for his current heading, and the response was "due north and climbing" and he then declared an emergency. The impact occurred shortly thereafter.
A witness on the ground reported seeing "two bright lights coming almost nose first toward the ground with the engine 'roaring.'" If accurate, the nose-down attitude would indicate a loss of control due, possibly due to pilot disorientation. But icing may have been an factor, too. Earlier Connell had asked ATC if there were any pilot reports for icing. Unfortunately, there weren't any, but clearly the pilot was aware that ice could become a factor. Even if you have experience with icing encounters, seeing and appraising ice accumulation is quite difficult on an aircraft that is not equipped for known icing conditions. Seeing trace ice accumulating on black de-ice boots in the dark is difficult enough and ice just doesn't show up very well on a wing painted white.
The weather at Akron was bad and rapidly getting worse. In the fifteen minutes between 17:35 and 17:51, the ceiling dropped by 200 feet and the visibility dropped by a mile. By 18:09, 16 minutes after the crash, the visibility dropped to 2.5 miles and the ceiling dipped another 100 feet to overcast at 400 feet. The temperature and dewpoint were -1 degree C. With visible moisture present, airframe icing was to be expected. If the aircraft was accumulating ice, that would explain why the pilot tried to salvage what appears to have been a destabilized approach.
Examination of the aircraft crash site revealed that the propeller had separated, but indicated bending consistent with the engine generating power at the time of impact. The flight controls exhibited no anomalies and the landing gear was extended.
Other details that are eventually released in these sorts of accidents include toxicology reports on the pilot and a summary of radar data. But as of this writing, claims of sabotoge seem unsubstantiated by the facts. What seems apparent is that a single-pilot, night IMC flight by a relatively low-time pilot started to unravel, the pilot pressed on, and the results were tragic.
All instrument approaches provide pilots with course guidance either to a runway or to a point near an airport or runway, but the ILS gives pilots left/right course guidance and descent guidance (glideslope). An instrument in front of the pilot or flight crew basically has two needles (the actual format varies), one vertical needle and one horizontal. The pilot or flight crew adjusts their heading to keep the vertical needle centered and the descent rate to keep the horizontal needle centered. Keep both needles centered, and the ILS takes you right to a runway.
Specialized versions of the ILS can be conducted by authorized flight crews in conditions of virtually no runway visibility, though a 200 foot ceiling and a half a mile of visibility are standard minima for us mere mortals. There used to be a few LDA (Localizer Direction Aid) approaches that provided a glideslope, but the only one I know of that still exists is the LDA RWY 6 approach into Roanoke, Virginia and it doesn't exactly take you right to the runway.
A lot RNAV approaches, many of them less than a few years old, provide vertical guidance in appropriately-equipped aircraft. RNP approaches exist for specially trained air crews that also get down pretty low. But when you need to get to the runway in really crummy weather, the good old ILS is still the gold standard for most pilots. But things can go wrong on an ILS and pilots need to be paying attention and prepared. I recommend you watch this two-part video. Together they are about 20 minutes long, quite thorough, and valuable, I think. If you're short on time, the second video makes the point on its own.
A question I frequently hear as an instrument instructor is "When can a pilot intercept the glideslope on an ILS approach?" My answer is always "When at all possible, from below, at glideslope intercept altitude." This is a good, though not completely infallible way to verify that things are as they should be on the approach. On FAA instrument approach charts, the point of glideslope intercept is depicted on the profile view as a lightning bolt style arrow. For many ILS approaches, the profile view looks something like this.
The glideslope intercept altitude for this particular approach is 1500 feet and the lightning bolt shows that glideslope intercept is slightly before the Maltese cross that represents the Final Approach Fix (FAF) and the altitude over the FAF (a VOR in this case) should be 1493 feet. Technically, the FAF on an ILS approach is where glideslope intercept occurs but I've always thought that to be just a bit of academic trivia. The Maltese cross is the FAF for the purposes of timing the segment between the FAF and the missed approach point. If you were flying just the localizer portion of the approach with the glideslope inoperative for some reason, the FAF is the Maltese cross. On some approaches the Maltese cross and the lightning bolt are the same point, but just as often they are not.
Some ILS approaches, like the ILS RWY 22L at Sacramento Mather, have step down fixes before the final approach fix and this is where pilots ask "If I can receive the glideslope before descending to the glideslope intercept altitude, can't I just start following the glideslope at that point?" Before trusting your life to an ILS glideslope, there are limitations to keep in mind. The gray feather shown on the profile view depicts where glideslope should be reliable. You may be able to receive the glideslope much further out, but I'd treat those indications with skepticism.
There is no preflight test for the aircraft's glideslope receiver that a pilot can perform. Several miles before the FAF, you should verify that the localizer display is not flagged. A few miles before the FAF, verify that the GS is not flagged, too. As you saw in the videos, this is not always a guarantee that all is well.
The videos point out that reception of a valid Morse code ID for the localizer does not mean that the glideslope portion is operational and functioning properly. ATC should know if the glideslope is inoperative and if so, your approach clearance should sound like:
Barnburner 123 is three miles from FIDO, fly heading 330, maintain 3000 until established, cleared Mooselips ILS 30 approach, glideslope inoperative.
Pay special attention to NOTAMs during your preflight briefing that mention any component of an approach (including DME) being unmonitored. "Unmonitored" means that for some reason, ATC will probably not be able to determine the health of that component in real time and warn you if it's misbehaving.
A recognized problem with intercepting the glideslope from above is the presence of false glideslopes. These false slopes are quite steep and should be easy to recognize as erroneous, but a coupled approaches in that situation could provide a pretty wild ride until you figured it out.
Though rare, false glideslopes below the normal slope can be caused by a coating of snow of the just the right thickness and moisture content on the ground off which part of the glideslope signal is reflected. There was an excellent article about this in IFR Magazine a few years back (a brief disclosure - I'm a semi-regular contributor to IFR Magazine). And you can read this accident report concerning a Piper Cheyenne that hit a power pole and crashed short of the runway with (according to the pilot) the glideslope and localizer needles centered.
On a check ride, the ATP and Instrument Rating Practical Test Standards contain the same criteria for the examiner's evaluating a precision approach:
"Establishes a predetermined rate of descent at the point where the electronic glide slope begins ..."
The "Instrument Flying Handbook" says:
"Pilots should pay particular attention to the following approach chart information: name and number of the approach, localizer frequency, inbound course, glide slope intercept altitude, DA/DM, ..."
While my reading of this wording does not necessarily preclude intercepting the glideslope from above during a descent, I like to see pilots in light aircraft reach the glideslope intercept altitude a mile or so before the designated glideslope intercept. Several important tasks need to be accomplished just before the FAF and getting to the intercept altitude promptly gives you plenty of time to have the aircraft configured and stabilized.
Pilots who want to ride the glideslope down from an altitude above the GS intercept altitude usually do so, in my experience, because they are behind the aircraft. There, I said it! They are late appropriately configuring the aircraft or are behind ATC's game plan. When you are pressed for time in a single-pilot environment, you are less likely to be able to detect if something is wrong and staying ahead of the aircraft is critical.
Flying the ILS RWY 22L into Mather, here's how things would look beginning the descent to the step-down fix YOSHE. Note that we've set the #1 bearing pointer to display the GPS course, which will come in handy later. We've also engaged the autopilot to fly the GPS vertical track, which the G1000 provides until we get close to the FAF. More on that later, too.
Setting the #1 bearing pointer to the GPS lets you verify the localizer course is accurate and the bearing pointer's distance to the current waypoint (approach fix) can help you detect abnormalities in an otherwise normal looking glideslope.
As we begin the descent from YOSHE to GADBE, we'll need a fairly high rate of descent to arrive at glideslope intercept altitude a mile or so from the FAF (which also happens to be the point where glideslope intercept should occur). This is a good time to synchronize your heading bug with your current course and put the autopilot into heading mode. Many autopilots will disengage NAV or APR (approach) mode if the navigation source it is tracking is changed. With the G1000, you'll need to switch (or the G1000 will switch automatically) from the GPS to the localizer, so you can nip this in the bud by engaging heading mode. You can then program the autopilot to begin a rate descent.
Since your goal is to get below the glideslope, but not below the intercept altitude, the rate of descent will need to be higher than normal. The descent rate to stay on a 3 degree glideslope can be approximated by multiplying your groundspeed in knots by 5. So at 110 knots a descent rate of 550 feet per minute would keep us on the slope. To get to the intercept altitude and intercept the glideslope from below requires a higher rate of descent (try ground speed times 9 or 10) and this will result in a temporary indication of being below glideslope.
Leveling off at the glideslope intercept altitude requires the restoration of POWER and/or re-trimming the aircraft, something many pilots seem to forget. As the glideslope comes in from above, extending the landing gear should provide a stabilized descent with minimal power adjustment or trim input.
Here's what it would look like at glideslope intercept altitude, one half dot below the glideslope, at the point where gear extension and the Before Landing checklist would be performed. At this point we should again verify there are no flags, the glideslope altitude matches the altitude depicted on the approach chart, and that the GPS bearing pointer and the localizer course are coincident. Any of these being parameters being out of whack should result in a missed approach. If everything looks good, you can engage the autopilot in approach mode to capture the glideslope.
I recently worked with Hamish in an FAA-approved G1000 simulator and we decided to try the Roanoke LDA RWY 6 approach. In the process, we discovered something interesting: The G1000's GPS depiction of the approach course didn't match what the simulator had for the localizer. The #1 bearing pointer was set to the GPS, it gave a very clear indication that didn't agree with the localizer course, and Hamish caught it immediately at the FAF. Turns out this was a simulator bug, but it illustrates the value of using the GPS as a back-up to the localizer.
Descending on a standard 3 degree glideslope, check your position relative to the GPS missed approach point. At a mile or so to the runway threshold, you should be about 500' above the touchdown zone elevation for an ILS with standard 200' minima. Not all ILS are created equal and some have higher visibility and decision height requirements, so read the fine print carefully. Some approaches have interesting notes, like these below. HUD stands for Heads-Up Display and FD for Flight Director, by the way.
I'm often asked why an approach like the Monterey ILS RWY 10R would say that coupled approaches are not authorized. The answer is that the when the FAA flight check crews test flew the approach, they found variations that they thought some autopilots might not handle very well.
The keys to a safe ILS are to stay ahead the airplane (and the autopilot), intercept the glideslope at the appropriate altitude (preferably from below), cross check the localizer course against your GPS (even a hand-held GPS is better than nothing), perform a sanity check on your altitude at the FAF and a mile or so before touchdown, and carefully read the fine print on the approach chart.
When a comment gets posted to this blog, I'm supposed to get an email. Unfortunately, an email is not always sent and I when I logged onto Blogger the other day I noticed several comments awaiting my review. Some comments had to do with older posts and I've put those comments up and responded to most. If you posted one of these delayed comments, my apologies for my less than timely response. To paraphrase one of the lines from the movie Repo Man, "I blame Blogger."
One commenter was really asking an unrelated question, so I'll quote it here and offer my opinionated answer:
I'm doing my initial issue multi engine instrument rating here in Aus, and everything is based off the NDB/ADF. You cannot gain an initial issue without demonstrating use of those.
In the US it seems the NDBs are being switched off, so I'm assuming the fundamentals of the rating is not geared around this antiquated piece of equipment.
Is this the case? How is the thing structured in the US?
Thanks if you have time to reply.
Tony
Good question Tony. NDBs are being phased out in the U.S., but they still quite common in some parts of the country. There are very few NDB stations remaining in California, but a large number are in service in the Midwest and Eastern states. I know at least one part 121 freight operator that requires pilot applicants to demonstrate an NDB approach. Whether or not an instrument rating candidate in the U.S. will be asked to demonstrate an NDB approach or NDB navigation depends to a large extent on where the practical test is being conducted.
The other obvious issue is the equipment installed in the aircraft the applicant is using for the practical test. If you don't have a functioning Automatic Direction Finder, the examiner can't very well ask you to demonstrate its use. This doesn't preclude an examiner from asking you theoretical questions about NDBs and their use during the oral portion of the test, it just makes it less likely. The same principal holds true for an IFR-approved GPS receiver and an autopilot. If you don't have a GPS in the plane or if the GPS database isn't current, the examiner can't ask you to use it. If your aircraft has a functioning autopilot, you'll be required to demonstrate its use on an approach.
Isn't it interesting how many old ADF receiver and flakey autopilots are suddenly placarded INOP just before a check ride?
There's an amazing amount of variety (or is it inconsistency?) in the approach facilities available in the U.S. where the list of possible navigation aids include ILS (instrument landing system), Localizer, LDA (Localizer-type Direction Aid), SDF (Simplified Directional Facility), VOR, NDB, and GPS/RNAV. Oh, I forgot to mention the MLS (Microwave Landing System): It was supposed to replace the ILS but it never really ... er ... took off. There are only a dozen or so SDF approaches in the entire U.S. and none in California, where I live and work. This situation has all the hallmarks of a system that grew up over time with a little being added here, then a little there. This means instrument pilots who fly to a variety of destinations in the U.S. need an almost encyclopedic level of knowledge on all these systems and their limitations.
NDB navigation outside the U.S. is generally alive and well, as I found when I flew through the Caribbean. So I do my best to expose instrument applicants to NDB navigation. I don't have access to many aircraft with a functioning ADF and there are just a few nearby NDBs around with which to navigate - Stockton and Watsonville come to mind. One can still use the G1000 to simulate an AFD/NDB setup.
Expanding this scenario further, consider flying IFR in a steam gauge aircraft (with separate, round instruments) versus flying a glass panel aircraft with integrated electronic displays. A pilot who learns in a steam gauge aircraft and earns his or her instrument rating could theoretically jump into a glass cockpit and launch into the soup. And vice versa. So while there are plenty of regulations and equipment in the U.S., I'm not sure how much "structure" there actually is.
With all the activity surrounding my ferry flight, I've had precious little time to keep up with happenings in aviation. As I made my way through the backlog of reading over the last few days, I noticed that Cirrus has released a version of their SR22 aircraft with a G1000 system instead of the usual Avidyne system. And in classic Cirrus fashion, their marketing team assures us that they are not just jumping on the G1000 bandwagon, no sir. This G1000 has been Cirrusized. The main differences between the usual G1000 and the Cirrusized G1000 are fairly limited, but in addition to the SVS option (Cirrus refers to it as "Perspective") there are some are big improvements.
First, the screens are 12" instead of 10" because bigger is better, right? Well at least there will be room for more fingerprints on the screen surface. The second difference is that this G1000 installation provides a keypad, something that has heretofore been limited to a few aircraft like the Columbia, Mooney, Bonanza, and Baron. If you ask me, all G1000 installations cry out for a simpler way to enter waypoints and limiting the keypad installation seems like more of a marketing gimmick that anything else. But look closely at the keypad and autopilot interface, because there is something revolutionary here.
One of my biggest gripes with the G1000 has been the design of the BARO knob (used to set the barometric pressure for the altimeter) and the CRS knob (used to set the HSI course when in VOR mode or in GPS with OBS mode engaged). In the traditional G1000, these two knobs are concentric with the large outer knob being the BARO setting and the smaller, inner knob being the CRS knob. If I had five dollars for every time I saw a pilot inadvertently change the BARO setting when they meant to adjust the HSI course, well I could have already retired and be sitting on the porch of my beach house, sipping rum from a glass with a little umbrella.
Next to the Cirrus keypad are heading, course, and altitude select knobs. These knobs no longer appear on the G1000 PFD or MFD. That's right, the combined CRS/BARO knobs are no more in the Cirrus. What's more, the frequently used heading and altitude select knobs are in a separate, easy to remember location. Pretty cool.
The other Cirrus difference is an additional button on the autopilot interface labeled LVL, which is being referred to as the Blue Button or the Panic Button. The idea is that if you enter an unusual attitude that does not exceed 75˚ of bank and/or 50˚ of pitch, pressing the LVL button will engage the autopilot and should bring you back to straight and level. I think having a single button to level the aircraft could be a handy thing during high workload moments, but a button for unusual attitude recovery?
One of the most basic skills an instrument pilot learns is to recover from an unusual attitude, especially when they are experiencing spatial disorientation - their inner ear is telling them something that is at odds with what their instruments are telling them. There are two basic unusual attitude scenarios: Nose up and nose down. A common mistake when trying to recover from an unusual attitude is failing to control airspeed, so the first thing to do is look at the airspeed indication. A fast or increasing airspeed means the nose of the plane is pointed down. A slow or decreasing airspeed means the plane is pointed up. I train my instrument students to initiate recovery by adjusting power first.
When recovering from a nose-up unusual attitude, I teach instrument candidates to think "stall recovery": Full power, reduce the pitch attitude, then level the wings. Nose-up unusual attitudes are often caused by a malfunctioning, runaway pitch trim. If that's the case, I can't imagine that the LVL button is going to be of any use since it relies on pitch trim which has malfunctioned.
The nose-down pitch recovery requires that the pilot initiate a spiral dive recovery, just like you learned when you first tried steep turns as a student pilot: Reduce power to idle, level the wings to reduce load on the airframe, then pitch up. If you don't level the wings before pitching up, you not only risk over-stressing the airframe, you may only succeed in steepening the bank angle with the resultant altitude loss and increase in airspeed - referred to by some as the JFK Jr. syndrome.
Assuming the Cirrus autopilot doesn't have autothrottle capability, I can't imagine how the level button can level the aircraft without potentially overstressing the airframe. Perhaps the designers are relying on the rigidity of the Cirrus composite airframe and its hugely effective ailerons. One would assume that they have tested this system and found it works satisfactorily, but I'm still curious.
More importantly, I wonder if this kind of system is going to breed a new kind of instrument pilot with questionable instrument flying skills. It seems doubtful that designated examiners will allow pilots to use the LVL button when demonstrating unusual attitude recovery during an instrument rating check ride, so maybe we're safe for now.
The one thing I wish Cirrus would fix is their own button design. Cirrus needs to protect important bolster switches from being inadvertently turned off. I actually had a student do this during an ILS in actual conditions. Reaching for the heading bug knob, we hit a big bump, his hand came down squarely on the avionics switch, the switch went off, and all the screens and G430s went dark. In Cirrus' G1000 design, the PFD softkeys are very close to the bolster switches and it's easy to imagine bumping one while trying to access a softkey in turbulent conditions. Perhaps they can Cirrusize that problem away ...
Whenever someone asks me why I'm not working for an airline, charter, or fractional operator, I often wonder the same thing. Then I think about the advantages of being a professional flight instructor and contract commercial pilot. I'm fortunate that my work offers plenty of variety and I get a lot of say in when and what I choose to do. I most often fly out of a busy Class C airport, but frequently go to small, non-towered airports. Many of these airports are off the beaten path. Some are exotic (like Ocean Ridge) while some (like Los Banos) seem more boring and deserted. Variety also comes in the form of the different aircraft I get to fly.
It's not uncommon for me to fly five to six different aircraft types in a week and this past week offered exceptional variety. One day I flew an aerial survey job in turbo 206 - lumbering along at 7000 feet over a dozen survey lines, 8 to 10 miles long, while maintaining a mind-numbing lateral course of +/- 10 meters and altitude within +/- 20 feet. A day later, I got a chance to test my G tolerance with a former CFI student of mine in an Extra 300. The Extra, a lightweight two-place aerobatic aircraft with a 300 horsepower engine, is what you might call a solution in search of a problem. It's pretty much the antithesis of a turbo 206 loaded with expensive digital camera equipment. So one day I'm flying tracks through the sky as absolutely straight and level as possible, then the next day I'm making different sorts of tracks - doing aileron rolls, loops and hammerhead turns.
This was my first time in an Extra and while I'm not drawn to aerobatic flying, I still appreciate the precision, skill, and physical conditioning it requires. The Extra 300 gives one the feeling that the plane could handle much more stress than most pilots can handle. This lead to a sense of confidence and trust in the plane along with, ideally, a healthy respect for your own physical limitations. I got too slow at the top of the second loop I attempted and I realized we were going to "fall out," I was very comfortable in letting the nose drop, gaining some airspeed, and just trying again. In normal and utility category aircraft I'm conservative, but in the Extra invites you to wring things out. A wise pilot remembers which aircraft he or she is flying and adapts accordingly - doing this stuff in a normal or utility category aircraft is just stupid.
I also spend a lot of time making IFR tracks with the G1000, which contains so many features that one could make a career out of knowing them all. Earlier in the week I had the opportunity to get creative and try some features that I hadn't used before during an VFR flight. I try my best to know all about the equipment I use, but many of the G1000 features fall into the category of "nice to know." You may never need to use them, but they can be handy in the right setting.
The Along Track Offset feature is pretty simple to grasp - it allows you to create an unnamed waypoint that is a certain number of miles before or after a waypoint in your flight plan. On the flight in question, we'd created a simple flight plan for a return flight from Petaluma Municipal Airport to Oakland. Since NORCAL usually instructs pilots inbound to Oakland from the Northwest to "cross the Mormon Temple at or above 2500, make right traffic runway 27 right," I'd entered the GPS waypoint for the temple - VPMOR.
Cruising at 5500 feet, we'd penetrate class B airspace if we didn't manage our descent, so I created an Along Track Offset that was several miles before the temple. To do this, I went into the Multi-Function Display's flight plan interface, pushed the small FMS knob to enter cursor mode, and scrolled with the big knob until VPMOR was highlighted, then I pressed the ATK OFST softkey.
I then used the small FMS knob to specify a point 7 miles before VPMOR. You press the ENT key to accept commit any changes you make.
Lastly, I assigned an altitude (you can only do this in the MFD's flight plan interface) of 3500 feet at VPMOR-7 and 2500 feet at VPMOR, again using the ENT key to confirm any field inputs.
A few miles later, we heard the aural alert "Vertical Track" and if you have a G1000 with the Garmin AFC autopilot, you can dial in the next altitude using the ALT knobs and use the VNAV button to instruct the autopilot to intercept and track the advisory descent. Our plane had the KAP 140 autopilot, but we were still able to track the advisory descent path.
Another handy feature is Parallel Track, which I'll cover in my next post. For now, I've got to rest my left arm which has some tracks of its own from several inoculations I received yesterday in preparation for an upcoming trip. More details on that trip as they become available.
Having spent several hundreds of hours providing instruction in G1000-equipped aircraft, I've identified some enhancements that could really improve the unit's usability. Some of the features (or were they bugs?) that I've mentioned in earlier posts have actually been addressed by Garmin in software upgrades. I'm not taking credit for inspiring these fixes, but maybe Garmin is listening? With that in mind ...
Disappearing Flight Plan Screen In a recent software upgrade, Garmin fixed the G1000 behavior of jumping to the end of the flight plan any time you entered cursor mode on the Primary Flight Display (PFD) with the flight plan inset window. It's soooo nice to have it fixed. Now they need to fix the problem of the disappearing flight plan window.
Here's the setup. ATC tells you "When able, proceed direct Linden," so you press the FPL button and scroll with the big knob to select LIN.
Next, you press DIRECT.
Press ENT two times to confirm and you're in business. Unfortunately, the very act of proceeding direct to a waypoint makes the inset flight plan window disappear.
You can press FPL again, but why should you have to?
Hidden Baro Minima In new G1000 units, you can set the minimum descent altitude or decision height for your approach. When you reach that altitude, you'll hear an aural annunciation "Minimums, Minimums!" (sic). This is a very cool feature, but guess where you access this feature? Press the TMR/REF (timer/reference) softkey and you'll see this inset window.
The TMR/REF window is quite the catch-all because this is where you can change the V-Speeds that are bugged on the speed tape, access a count-up timer, and set the minimum descent altitude. Forget for a moment that changing the bugged V-speed in most light GA aircraft is stupid. How is a pilot supposed to know that he or she can set their minimum descent altitude with this softkey? You need to memorize and remember it's location. If your minimum descent altitude is several thousand feet (like at South Lake Tahoe), you're going to have to twirl that little knob quite a bit to dial in the desired altitude. Actually, the altitude setting is probably optimized for the most frequently occurring altitudes and isn't so bad. Some of the other G1000 altitude inputs make you select one digit at a time, starting with tens of thousands of feet.
Inset Window Amnesia A related behavior with all the PFD inset windows is that the G1000 does not remember what you were last doing. Press the FPL button to display your flight plan. Then press the TMR/REF softkey to set your Baro Minima. Press the TMR/REF softkey again to dismiss that inset window and ... voila! Instead of displaying the flight plan inset window, there's no inset window displayed at all. The same thing happens if you press NRST, PROC, MENU or any button that displays an inset window. Being able to preserve the last window (or windows) should be child's play for programmers who understand linked lists and the basic concept of LIFO.
XPDR Code, Where Art Thou?
A frequent occurrence when calling ATC to get into the system is being told "Standby for a transponder code." So you press XPDR softkey, the CODE softkey, and wait, ready to punch in the four-digit code.
The problem is that after a few seconds, the G1000 assumes you're done and helpfully dumps you out of the transponder code mode. Gee, thanks ...
Reversionary Mode
As an instructor, I use the reversionary mode a fair amount to simulate the failure of one of the displays for training - the equivalent of partial panel in a steam gauge aircraft. To do this, you press the RED button at the bottom of the audio panel to make both screens display the same basic data - Attitude, Speed, Altitude, engine gauges, and so on. Then press the MENU key and the fun begins.
Using the big knob, you select the brightness setting for the display you wish to make dark and change it from AUTO to MANUAL. Then you select the percentage brightness field and twist the small knob to lower that value to 0%. You must twist, and twist, and twist, and twist, because one complete revolution of the small knob reduces the brightness only about 5%. I'm certain that one day that knob will come off in my hand or just quit working altogether.
One solution would be to have three basic settings: AUTO, MANUAL, OFF. Without some improvement in this interface, Garmin will eventually get sued by some enterprising instructor claiming the G1000 caused repetitive strain injury to their wrist!
Nav Source Change This is a biggie. The G1000 will automatically (and silently) change navigation source for the HSI (and consequently the autopilot) from GPS to Nav 1 when a ILS approach is loaded. This behavior is generally a good thing, but with the Cessna 172's KAP 140 autopilot in NAV mode, it can be treacherous.
If the KAP 140 autopilot senses the NAV source has been changed, it reverts to the wings level, ROL mode. There's no beep, no chime, no aural alert of any kind. The KAP 140 just flashes ROL for several seconds on the autopilot control panel, but that panel is too low and out of the pilot's primary field of view to be of much help. If the pilot doesn't catch what has happened, the autopilot might just fly him or her into oblivion. One fix for this would be for the G1000 to provide an aural warning "Nav source change" or some other helpful phrase.
Of course, aural alerts can be distracting. A pilot I fly with showed me how to enable aural alerts on an older Garmin GNS480 unit. Unbeknownst to me, this unit was set to a female voice and as I was turning final I heard a very sultry voice say "Five hundred." For a second, all I could think was "Tell me more!"
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