Flying Right Seat

A freight pilot friend once astutely observed, "From the right seat, it may as well be a completely different airplane." His comment sprang from a discussion we had about the wisdom of non-instructor pilots offering to fly with student pilots, allowing the student to sit in the left seat and practice. The pilot would act as PIC, the cost of the flight would be shared, and there would be no need to pay for a flight instructor. When examining the relative wisdom of such an arrangement, pilots need to consider that when they move to the right seat they've entered bizzaro world. Without some training and experience in right seat flying, specifically landings, you've significantly increased the risk of something bad (read expensive) happening. If you've ever thought about getting instruction in right seat flying, here are some of the challenges in store for you and a few suggestions on how to cope with them.

Understand the Limits

Though most GA aircraft have dual flight controls, they are certificated for, and primarily set-up for the pilot-in-command occupying the left seat. With the lion's share of the flight instruments positioned for the left seat, the pilot in the right seat can feel left out. The altimeter, airspeed indicator, and turn coordinator can be mighty hard to see. Even if you can see the instruments, there's the problem of parallax: You aren't looking straight at the instrument so you have to learn to judge what a needle is indicating or when the ball in the slip indicator is centered. And you can forget the attitude indicator in many aircraft. Instructors in the right seat usually learn to visualize bank angles and use outside references for estimating pitch.

The ignition key or magneto switches and virtually all other switches may be beyond your normal reach when you're sitting right seat and a clear view of these switches is often not available. The left yoke may be in the way or the left seat pilot's hands or arms may block your view. The throttle quadrant often blocks the right seat pilot's view of the landing gear lever and the gear position indicator lights. About the only things you may have close at hand from the right seat are the circuit breakers, flap switch and cabin heat controls.

When sitting right seat, you're going to be operating the throttle, prop, and mixture controls with your left hand. Virtually every pilot finds this arrangement awkward at first. You may even experience the thrill of leaning the mixture when you meant to retard the throttle, though most pilots rarely make this mistake more than once! I've even seen a few pilots grab the correct control, but in a fit of confusion, move that control the wrong way - advancing the throttle when they meant to retard the throttle.

The best radio push-to-talk (PTT) switch set-up for the right seat is to have the switch located on the right horn of the right seat control yoke. This makes sense because the right-seat flyer needs to have their left hand free for adjusting the throttle, prop, mixture or to set the radios and GPS. So naturally many aircraft manufacturers put the right seat PTT switch on the left horn of the control yoke. This means the pilot must momentarily switch hands or reach across their body with the opposite hand anytime they need to talk to ATC. One plane I occasionally instruct in has the right seat PTT switch mounted on the far right edge of the instrument panel, which can make for some interesting contortions.

Aircraft insurance policies and flying club rules often specify that all flying is to be done from the left seat unless the pilot holds a current flight instructor certificate or has specific authorization. Some aircraft have equipment limitations, like the often overlooked limit on the KAP 140 autopilot that a pilot must occupy the left seat when the autopilot is engaged. With all these limitations in mind, it's clear that flying from the right seat is not as simple as sliding over.

Illusive Landings

For most pilots, the biggest challenge with right seat flying is landing the aircraft. I've lost count of the number of pilots I've trained to fly right seat, but most have been flight instructor candidates. A few have been private pilots who simply wanted to see what it was like to fly from the other seat. I've known several instructors who became so comfortable flying right seat that they actually avoided ever flying from the left seat, even when flying solo. Switching back and forth can be a humbling experience, but flight instructors should be flexible and practiced in flying from either seat. If you aren't an instructor and you don't get much practice in the right seat, factor that into your personal minima and currency requirements. Like most anything else in life, right seat flying is a skill that must be practiced to be maintained.

The majority of learning right seat landing problems are difficulty aligning the longitudinal axis (yaw) and maintaining centerline alignment during the landing flare. Pilots who are new to the right seat frequently apply too much right rudder during the flare and the result is side loading on the landing gear at touchdown. The most effective teaching technique seems to be briefing the pilot on the common errors and solutions, then coaching them with real-time feedback about their rudder input. After 5 to 10 hours of practice, most pilots find right seat landings start to improve.

Double Vision

Ocular dominance, in my experience, plays an important role in a pilot's ability to maintain centerline and longitudinal alignment during the first few hours of landing from the right seat. For most people, their dominant eye is the same as their dominant hand: Right handed people tend to right eyed and left handed people are left eyed. Here's a simple test to determine your dominate eye:

With one of your arms extended and with both eyes open, align your thumb with some object that is more than 20 feet (6 meters) away. Close your left eye and if you see the object appears to remain aligned with your thumb, then your right eye is dominant. If the object no longer appears aligned with your right eye closed, your left eye is dominant.

I've taught right seat flying to at least three pilots who were right-handed, but who were left-eye dominant and these pilots seems to initially report more difficulty and feelings of awkwardness when transitioning to the right seat. Consider my unscientific representations of how ocular dominance might affect one's perspective from the cockpit. These photos have been exaggerated for effect, but illustrate the idea that significant re-learning is required when transitioning to the right seat. Pilots are often encouraged to look at the end of the runway during the landing flare and I suspect the reason this technique helps is because it reduces the parallax introduced by ocular dominance.

Left Seat, Left Eye Dominant

Left Seat, Right Eye Dominant

Right Seat, Left Eye Dominant

Right Seat, Right Eye Dominant

I move back and forth from the right seat to the left seat in a variety of aircraft, but this wasn't always the case. My first few years of instructing provided few opportunities to fly from the left seat, but when I did it always felt more natural. After thousands of hours of dual instruction given and years of flying regularly, I no longer think that much about which seat I'm occupying. Without significant experience and regular flying, switching back and forth would probably not be as easy.

Right-Brain, Left-Brain

There are popular beliefs about right or left brain dominance, also known as brain function lateralization. The usual claims are that right-brain people tend perceive and think in a more global, holistic, and creative manner. Left-brain dominance purportedly helps one excel at procedures and rational thought. There are numerous on-line tests you can take that claim to tell you whether you are left- or right-brain dominant, though I'm not sure how much use this knowledge will be if you decide to try flying from the right seat.

Barring physical injury or disease, we each use of both halves of our brains every day. While parts of the right hemisphere provide motor control to the left side of the body and vice-versa, aside from obvious processes like speech (which is usually localized in the left temporal lobe for right-handed individuals and somewhat distributed between the left and right temporal lobes for left-handed people), there isn't always a clear pattern of specialization between brain hemispheres for global thought processes. It does seem safe to say that learning to fly from the right seat will require you to use your brain in ways you normally wouldn't, that's why it's difficult, and it's probably a good thing.

The key to safe and successful right seat flying is to get training from an authorized instructor familiar with aircraft you'll be using. Remember that when you reach for a control or switch using either hand, focus on your intention, not on how awkward it may feel. Expect to become fatigued more easily during your first few hours of right seat flying for the simple reason you'll have to concentrate on things you'd normally do unconsciously. Exercising your brain by thinking and coordinating in a different way can be challenging. Don't be surprised if you feel a bit like a student pilot at first, but don't worry. Right seat flying gets easier with practice.

Different is not The Same

Having logged waaay more than six approaches and several holding patterns in the last six months, I was current and legal to fly under instrument flight rules (IFR). The problem is that current & legal does not guarantee a pilot is proficient. 14 CFR 61.51(g)(2) permits an instrument instructor to log instrument time, holding patterns, and instrument approaches flown by their students in instrument meteorological conditions and that helps instructors stay current at a low cost. Unfortunately, there's a big difference between watching someone fly an aircraft and actually flying the aircraft yourself. When it comes to maintaining proficiency, instructors are in the same boat as any other pilot: It takes time, effort, practice and money to maintain your flying chops.

Pressure Cooker

For a professional pilot, recurrent simulator training and proficiency checks are an opportunity to learn, practice, and be evaluated. Or to become unemployed! Recurrent training and proficiency checks create a pressure to perform and a certain level of stress is a good thing. For GA pilots and flight instructors, the only pressure to perform that we may experience is usually self-imposed. To keep myself in the game and feeling challenged, I hire another instructor to give me an instrument proficiency check every six months. During those flights I am just like any other pilot: I pay for the aircraft, the fuel, and the instructor. I feel the stress, make some mistakes (hopefully not too many), and listen to a post-flight critique. And as Dr. ATP recently wrote, I'm not looking for an easy pass.

The tasks for an instrument proficiency check are defined in the Instrument Rating Practical Test Standards, along with the tolerances for satisfactory performance. The FAA has produced a nice document called Instrument Proficiency Check (IPC) Guidance to help focus the mind of pilot and instructor. Most any instrument instructor worth his or her salt can recite the tasks to be demonstracted for an IPC from memory, but actually performing these tasks to the stated tolerances is a different story.

• Holding procedures
• Recovery from Unusual Flight Attitudes
• Intercepting & Tracking Navigational Systems & DME Arcs
• Nonprecision Approach (NPA)
• Precision Approach (PA)
• Missed Approach
• Circling Approach
• Landing from a Straight-in or Circling Approach
• Loss of Primary Flight Instrument Indicators

Change is Good

Back in January 2010, the FAA made some welcome changes to the Instrument Rating Practical Test Standards. For one, RNAV approaches with LPV minima and a DH of 300' or less now meet the requirements of a precision approach. This clears up some of the problems with earlier versions of the PTS that specified an RNAV approach with LPV minima as a non-precision approach. And the old concept of partial panel has been reworked to better account for glass panel aircraft - what Garmin calls reversionary mode.

Last week, I scheduled time with Jim (a currently furloughed airline pilot who is also a flight instructor) to put me through the paces and evaluate my performance. We came up with a plan of action that included all of the tasks, but left some room for spontaneity: I wasn't sure exactly what routings I'd get, when I might be instructed to hold, when we'd do unusual attitude recoveries, and so on.

"Cross JUPAP at or above three thousand seven hundred, cleared RNAV Y 27L ..."

During the flight I did my best to stay ahead and relaxed, something I encourage pilots I train to strive for. Hey, everyone performs better when they are relaxed. I used the bits of onboard automation when it made sense, but I also did a lot of hand flying, too. Also had a chance to show to Jim a trick I discovered for quickly setting up reversionary mode. Afterward, I was relishing the brutally honest debriefing. I'd made a couple of gaffes, but Jim thought things looked pretty good. This made we wonder if he was going easy on me, but he insisted he wasn't, offering "I could make some stuff up, if you want."

Proficiency on a Budget

If you think it's expensive to mimic part 121 or 135 recurrent training, it is. It's also an investment in your safety as well as the safety of those who fly with you. And there are ways to reduce the expense. In 2009, changes were made to 14 CFR 61.57(c)(1)(i), (ii), and (iii): An authorized instructor is no longer required to be present when an instrument pilot uses an approved flight training device (FTD) or flight simulator to log instrument approaches and holding procedures for currency. The pilot using the FTD must have not exceeded the 6 calendar month currency limit, but this is good news for pilots who want to stay current without breaking the bank: An hour in an FTD is probably one-third the cost of a flight in an actual aircraft.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that without an authorized instructor present to create realistic scenarios and provide the voice of air traffic control, this type of FTD activity is more likely to keep you legal than proficient. Still, many FTDs allow you to program random equipment malfunctions, which can make the training more spontaneous and challenging. Alternate the non-instructional use of a FTD with proficiency flights in an actual aircraft (with a safety pilot or instructor) and you've got the best of both worlds: A plan to stay proficient that is also cost-effective.

If you've been feeling stale or uninspired, you can always hook up with another pilot and split some flight time. It may take some time to find another pilot with whom you feel simpatico, but you can save some money and get another perspective by critiquing one another's performance. There are pilots who pass the check ride and then do the minimum required to stay legal, but we should all bristle at the suggestion that piloting skills will inevitably deteriorate after the check ride. Sure you have to be up for the challenge and ready to spend some cash, but you can't put a price on the rewarding feeling you get when you know you've done your best.

A Perfectly Imperfect Flight

After a cold and gray summer in the San Francisco Bay Area, the weather for tonight's flight is hot, so hot that record high temperatures were set today for several California cities. The goal is to complete back-to-back cross-country flights to meet commercial pilot requirements: One flight during the day, one at night, both a minimum of 2 hours with a straight-line distance of at least 100 nautical miles between departure and destination. Along the way I'll test the commercial candidate's ability to navigate with VORs, GPS, dead reckoning, and pilotage. The unstated goal, as is the case anytime pilots decide to go flying, will be to savor the joy of flight, even if the air is hot and dry.

These back-to-back cross-country flights are not new to me and I have a few possible destinations up my sleeve that will meet the distance and time requirements. For tonight, we'll fly to Harris Ranch, near Coalinga, California, at the Southern end of the San Joaquin Valley. Harris Ranch is more than 100 miles from Oakland. We can easily get there in less than 2 hours, so the solution is to give the pilot a diversion and there are many airports from which to choose. After diverting, we'll land at Harris Ranch, buy some fuel, sit in the air conditioned restaurant, have a bite to eat, if necessary we'll wait for official night to begin, and hope for a cooler two-hour return flight.

A luxury on long flights is the ample opportunity for a pilot to demonstrate their skills in a relaxed, slower paced setting. And since we'll be doing two cross-country flights with a break in between, the candidate gets a chance to integrate what he learns on the trip down and apply it on the trip back. Learning is a change in behavior ... A flight instructor candidate will be riding along in the back seat, observing, taking some photos and videos, and sharing the fun. The surface temperature at Oakland is a sizzling 34˚C, the air is still and bone dry, and it will be a thousand years until the winter rains come.

The aircraft for tonight's flight is a well-equipped, late-model G1000 Cessna 172 with a nice, accurate autopilot. That should help relieve the tedium of the long flight. We depart Oakland, turn to the East and begin a slow climb. Norcal Approach eventually clears us up to 5,500 feet and the outside air temperature gradually drops to 28˚C. That's over twenty degrees warmer than the standard temperature for this altitude, but the air flowing out the tiny cabin air vents feels surprisingly cool.

The initial route takes us over Tracy, California and then we begin some IFR flying (I Follow Roads) along Victor I-5, a major commercial freeway that runs the length of the state. It's hard to get lost following a big swath of pavement and there are several small airports along the route, just in case we unexpectedly need one.

Dead ahead is the Lemoore Military Operations Area, which brings up the first topic of discussion: Is the Lemoore MOA active? The pilot had planned a different route than what I've asked him to fly. He planned the trip primarily using IFR charts and confesses a dislike for VFR charts, but now he consults his sectional and finds the Lemoore MOA is listed as active. Just to be sure, he asks the approach controller who tells us the MOA is cold. Good to know that in the entire state of California, something is cold.

As we near Los Banos, it's time to divert and the fun begins. I take away the GPS navigational information and after drawing a course line, measuring the magnetic course and distance, estimating the time en route and fuel required, another lesson is learned: On long trips it sure helps to have a big plotter instead of one of those small, compact rulers. Flying along the new course using dead reckoning and pilotage distracts us from the heat. The winds aloft are negligible, the ride is smooth, and as the sun sinks to the horizon the Sierra Madre are bathed in a golden light.

The pilot locates and identifies various airports along the way, Madera, Fresno, Reedly. During the descent to Woodlake, California, the new destination, the temperature climbs. The Sierra foothills shimmer in the twilight and seem to be glowing from within. Peaceful orchards and farmland are slipping by underneath us, lush and green in spite of the heat. The life of a professional flight instructor is fraught with difficulties, but this view makes the trials and imperfections melt away. A little voice in my head says, "Fix these sights in your memory and they will give you solace in the future."

Gliding closer to the runway, we can see that the pavement appears freshly resurfaced. I recall landing here in a Caravan during 135 indoc training, doing a 180 and back-taxiing on the poorly surfaced runway because the parallel taxiway was even worse: A trail of broken asphalt and potholes. Back to the present, the Skyhawk seemingly hovering in the landing flare, I glance to the left and see a familiar wooden building. This unassuming structure houses something out of a time warp, the archetypal $100 hamburger restaurant straight out of a pilot's dream. I had a grilled cheese sandwich here years ago and the check airman had a cheeseburger. Alas, the restaurant is not open at this hour and after a touch and go, we depart straight-out for Harris Ranch.

My half-liter stainless steel water bottle that was filled with ice cubes and cold water is now empty. My stomach is growling and I didn't pack any snacks. The pilot neglected to bring any water at all, which spawns a quick discussion of aeromedical factors. In hot weather the body loses water fast and with low relative humidity perspiration dries so quickly you may not realize you're dehydrated until the symptoms start: Headache, dizziness, dry mouth, difficulty concentrating. Not to worry, we'll soon be ensconced in cool, air-conditioned comfort at the Harris Ranch restaurant.

On the way we briefly receive flight following from Lemoore Approach and the controller is busy talking to what I assume is a squadron of F-18 Hornets. Nothing appears on my traffic detector and I can only conclude their transponders are not turned on. Told to squawk VFR, the descent to Harris Ranch commences and the narrow, brightly lit runway comes into view next to I-5 and its endless stream of truck and automobile traffic. Turning final, something unexpected happens: The runway lights begin to flash on and off at regular intervals. We attempt to click the mic (the aviation equivalent of The Clapper), but the lights go off and stay off. We live in an imperfect world and it's time for a real-life diversion.

In the go-around there's a low-fuel annunciation, most likely due to the climb attitude combined with a somewhat low fuel quantity. We have at least an hour's worth of fuel, but a flashing yellow annunciator isn't soothing. The pilot chooses to divert to nearby New Coalinga where self-service fuel should be available. Then the sinking realization: No cold drinks, no snacks, no air-conditioned restaurant. The pilot needs water and I'm hungry. Another lesson relearned - something about Plan B ...

New Coalinga is deserted and save a few hangars, the only signs of any aviation activity whatsoever is a single Cessna, tied down on the ramp. The air is still and warm, but surprisingly, not that hot. And there's a smell in the air you'd instantly recognize if you've ever driven past Coalinga: We're downwind from a huge cattle stockyard. No matter, the fuel pump is functioning and there is a pilot's lounge/briefing room in a mobile-home style building just beyond the fence. A dog is barking somewhere in the darkness that has settled on the airport and then a light comes on.

The airport manager lives in the other half of the mobile home. He appears, dressed for the weather, barefoot, wearing jeans and sans t-shirt. I apologize if we've disturbed his evening. He says it's fine, turns on the lights for us and shows us what's available. There's no food to be had, but there is a vending machine with cold soft drinks. The CFI candidate riding along takes some pictures and the sounds his digital camera makes are all we hear.

I bring up FltPlan on my iPhone, locate Harris Ranch and give them a call. I get the hotel receptionist and describe the problem with the runway lights. I'm not sure the receptionist understands the nuances of runway lighting, but she assures me they'll look into it.

After departing, I ask the pilot to head toward Madera, he programs the GPS and contacts Lemoore Approach. We get flight following through the MOA, which seems to be active and the runway lights at Harris Ranch are working again. The controller is still talking to a bunch of Hornets, but we can only hear one side of the conversation since we're using a VHF transceiver and the F-18s are using high frequency transceivers. We see some flashing red beacons, but my traffic detector insists we're all alone.

When I was a kid and we were reaching the end of a road trip, I recall how a peculiar silence would engulf the car and make every small rattle, click, or bump in the road seem significant. That same feeling overtakes me as we cross over Tracy and turn toward San Francisco Bay. The pilot elects to fly a practice ILS approach and while Oakland's North Field is quiet, the South Field is humming with activity. A single tower controller is working all the frequencies for the entire airport: Tower, Ground, and Clearance Delivery. Whatever gets you through the night ...

The North Field is eerily quiet and the temperature is actually warmer here than it was at New Coalinga. With the plane back in the hangar, we're back to business cleaning all the leading edges and the windshield. A cynical Larry Summers famously claimed "In the history of the world, no one has ever washed a rental car." The same cannot be said of rental aircraft and Mr. Summers would get some serious remedial training if he were ever to fly with me. After a quick debrief and signing of the logbook, this evening's two cross-country flights are in the books.

Flying focuses our minds, offer tangible goals, tests physical and intellectual skills. Yet while we're focused on our flying performance, we're also taking in sights and sensations that only a flying animal can know and appreciate. The next time you go flying, bring a friend or a loved one, and drink in the world from above. May the joys you experience stay fixed in your mind and provide comfort as you make your way through this perfectly imperfect world.

Surprise, Surprise

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.

ForeFlight Checklists for the iPhone

After the ditching of US Airways 1549 in the Hudson River earlier this year, an interesting fact came out of the review of the accident: In order to apparently save some money, the index tabs on the aircraft check lists had been removed, making the check list more difficult to use. Now in emergency situations there isn't always going to be time to run the appropriate check list, but I kept wondering "wouldn't it be nice if there was as electronic way to quickly access and display this information?" This would be especially nice for frequently used, non-emergency check lists.

Well ForeFlight has created two iPhone apps, Checklist Lite and Checklist Pro, that allow you to create your own aircraft check lists in an easy-to-access format. The Lite version of the app is free and the Pro version costs $19.99. Either app will function just fine with your iPhone in airplane mode. Again, let me disclose that I was provided a complimentary version of ForeFlight Checklist Pro by the developers in consideration for my reviewing their product.


I suggest that if you're serious about check lists on your iPhone (or iPod Touch) that you spring for the Pro version because it allows you to create, edit, and sync check lists on a web site using your browser as an editor. I found this much easier than editing on the iPhone itself (which is all the Lite version supports). Once you have created a check list on the web-based editor, you can sync it with your iPhone. The Pro version also gives you access to a variety of check list templates for a select number of popular aircraft.

In this review I'll just be covering the Pro version, discussing how to use the ForeFlight Checklist web site to create a new check list, then how to sync the checklist with your iPhone and use it with the aircraft in question. ForeFlight has also produced this how-to video.

After purchasing the Pro version, you register a checklist account on ForeFlight Checklist web site. The first thing you'll see when you log onto the ForeFlight Checklist web site is a list of checklists. Their scheme is to name the checklist with the plane's tail number, but I fly a lot of different aircraft with different tail numbers and many of those aircraft are of the same type. So I chose to name my check lists after the type of aircraft, rather than the registration number, so I could have one check list for each type. Your mileage may vary ...



The ForeFlight Check Lists are organized in a three-level hierarchy: The top level, called Group, contains Normal and Emergency/Abnormal items, You can't add, delete, or change items at the Group level. Now I like the check lists I create and use to have a comprehensive list of all the V-speeds in one place, so I created my own Subgroup called "V-Speeds" that contains a List group with those speeds.



You can decide what items you want in the Group and List levels of the hierarchy by using the the icons to the right of each header. You can move items up or down, rename, or delete, them. You can even copy List items to another Group within your check list or to a different check list altogether. The List level contains the actual check list items, organized in a Challenge/Response format along with a provision for notes on each item. If you want to create a header to separate lists of challenge/response items, just type something in the Challenge field and leave the Response and Notes fields blank.



Once you have created your check lists on the ForeFlight Checklist web site, it's time to launch the app on your iPhone (or iPod Touch). That's when you'll see this splash screen reminding you that a check list on your iPhone is not a substitute for the manufacturer's supplied data that should be in the aircraft.



You won't see any check lists when you first launch so you can tap the + button in the upper left and start editing on your iPhone or do what I did and tap on the sync button in the lower left edge of the screen (shown circled in red).



Syncing is pretty fast, but it can be unexpectedly destructive and the process currently provides no warning if the sync action you are about to do will delete a check list entirely. I found this out the hard way - D'oh!


Once the sync is complete, you'll see all the checklists that you created on the web site are now on your iPhone (or iPod Touch).



I tapped on the GA7 check list and this brought up a list of the normal check list Groups by default. To see the emergency/abnormal Group, tap on the red emergency button on the lower right corner of the screen.

Here's how the V-speed list I created on the web site appears when displayed on the iPhone. Granted this is not a check list per se, but hey, it works for me.

To use a check list, select it from the Subgroups list, simply tap on each item as your complete them, and you'll see a green checkmark appear next to the item and the screen will automatically scroll to the next item. No more losing your place in the check list!

If you exit a check list before completing all the items, ForeFlight will remind you: Notice the icon next to that Group item is only partially green, which means you have some unfinished business to attend to.

Return to an uncompleted check list and the display automatically scrolls to the first incomplete item. Pretty foolproof way to recover from the "interrupted check list" syndrome.

Finish all the items in a check list and you'll see the icon next to that Subgroup item shows it is complete. If you want to reset all the check lists in this Subgroup, simply tap on the reset button on the lower right edge of the screen.

From an instructional standpoint, the Notes feature for check lists items is particularly useful. Take the GA7 engine start procedure, which specifies that only left magnetos are turned on until after the engine is started. Placing a brief explanation in the Notes field is a great way for a pilot to learn (or remember) why something is being done the way it is.

For flexibility, you can consciously choose to skip a check list item by tapping the yellow Skip button instead of tapping on the item itself. Be aware that when you exit the check list containing one or more skipped items, ForeFlight will show the check list as being completed as long as all the other items were completed. You can also use the reset button to reset a single check list or an entire group of check lists. Pretty darn flexible, if you ask me.

To display the emergency/abnormal Group of check lists, tap on the red emergency button on the lower right of the screen.

Tap on a particular Group, like Engine Failures, and you'll see the list of Subgroups.



Then just tap on a Subgroup item to access the check list you want to complete.

And after you've gone to all the trouble of creating a check list, wouldn't it be nice to be able to share it with another pilot? ForeFlight has thought of that, just tap on the Share button on the bottom of the check list screen and select the check list you want to share.



The app will prompt you for the pilot's email address and email them a link to use for accessing your check list. The other pilot just needs to open the email on their iPhone and click on the link it contains to get a copy of your check list. Now all that's needed is a way to bill the other pilot for your time and effort!

Like all the ForeFlight apps, I found Checklist Pro to be well-designed and executed. So if you're an iPhone or iPod Touch user with a check list fetish, I recommend you check out ForeFlight Checklist Lite or Pro.

Don't Call Me at the Old Number

Never seen the 1950's Jimmy Stewart movie Harvey? Well you probably won't understand what the title of this post is referring to. Stewart plays Elwood P. Doud, a nice guy in every respect except for the fact that he has a friend - a 6 foot tall invisible rabbit named Harvey - which no one else can see. Several times in the film he hands his business card to someone, after crossing out something on it, and explaining he has a new phone number.

Many non-towered airports share the same common traffic advisory frequency and though this is an antiquated system, it mostly works. Where the system starts to break down is when the skies get crowded, like on weekends and holidays. The few CTAF frequencies there are get busy because many non-towered airports share one of two common CTAF frequencies - 122.8 or 122.7. Some new frequencies are beginning to be assigned, but the way pilots determine whether or not a radio call they just heard might affect them is the convention of prefacing all CTAF announcements with the name of the airport. So far so, so good.

Some of the airports within a 100 mile or so radius of the San Francisco Bay Area that share the frequency 122.8 include Halfmoon Bay, Sonoma Skypark, Ocean Ridge, Cloverdale, Rio Vista, Watts Woodland, Colusa County, Kingdon, Rancho Murietta, Westover, Oakdale, Turlock, Tracy, Los Banos, and Wattsonville. Many of these airports are infrequently used, but many are quite busy with training aircraft. It's not uncommon to hear pilots at other airports more than 50 miles away. I often hear jet traffic inbound to Truckee making CTAF announcements while high over the Sierra Mountains and wonder how far their transmissions might be heard. You don't have to be at a high altitude for your signal to carry. I remember making a CTAF call inbound to Visalia at 2000 feet and having someone in Byron (140 nm away) say "Hey John, is that you?"

When the frequencies get crowded, it can be hard to get a word in edgewise and when two aircraft try to transmit at the same time, you get a loud squeal and nobody hears anything. Radio communication, see-and-avoid procedures, and luck are what keep aircraft from hitting one another at these small airports. For their part the FAA has begun to assign new CTAF frequencies to many non-towered airports as a way to reduce congestion on the freqencies and this a great idea. In fact, Rio Vista just got a new frequency on March 1 of this year.

RIU 02/167 O88 COM CTAF/UNICOM 122.725 VICE 122.8 WEF 0903010800

Translate this NOTAM and you'll understand that the old CTAF frequency of 122.8 has been replaced with the frequency 122.725. Then you will hopefully mark up your VFR sectional and A/FD with the new frequency. Since Rio Vista is frequented by many of the part 141 training school aircraft in the area, this new frequency should help a lot. The problem is this NOTAM and the new frequency assignment seem to have been lost on about 50% of the pilots using the Rio Vista Airport. Either they have not gotten a pre-flight briefing since March 1 or they aren't reading the NOTAMs carefully.

I'm not instructing as much since last October, but I've still been to Rio Vista a dozen times since March and each time at least one aircraft is still using the old frequency. And why not? The current San Francisco VFR sectional still lists the frequency as 122.8 as do all the relevant Jeppesen VFR+GPS charts. Heck, even the latest Airport Facility Directory and all the latest NACO approach charts still list the CTAF as 122.8. Why this is I can only guess.

The next San Francisco VFR sectional is due out at the end of August of this year and perhaps the FAA's charting division wants to harmonize the release of that sectional with an updated A/FD and terminal procedures. A great idea to someone sitting at a desk, but not such a great idea for someone flying an aircraft into Rio Vista. I haven't noticed if the airport information signs on the Rio Vista airport actually reference the new frequency or not. I even emailed the folks at Airnav, but they said they don't update their online information until the FAA makes the changes, presumably to the A/FD. So even Airnav still lists the old, wrong frequency. What's a pilot or instructor to do?

My current, preferred procedure at Rio Vista is to tune the #1 radio to 122.725 and use that as the CTAF. Okay, so I'm a boy scout, but heck there's a NOTAM. I don't want to be called on the carpet for not complying with 14 CFR 91.103, but I don't have a death wish either. I tune the #2 radio to 122.8 (the old frequency) and monitor it, too. If I hear someone on the old frequency, I quickly transmit a courtesy explanation of the new frequency in use - if I can get a word in edgewise. Sometimes the old frequency is so busy with calls from other airports that listening to two frequencies becomes a distraction in and of itself. So this new frequency assignment was supposed to reduce radio conflicts and make things safer, but it has actually made things less safe.

One simple solution would have been to wait until a few days before the new San Francisco VFR sectional was to be published and then release the NOTAM. Now that the cat is out of the bag, at least the next versions of the A/FD and the terminal procedures should be updated. For completeness, another solution would be to release a NOTAM retracting the previous NOTAM. Yeah, that sounds about right for the FAA ...

My suggestion for pilots who want to avoid missing these important, but obscure NOTAMs is to get an online briefing from DUATS or DUAT and then use your browser's search feature to locate all the instances of the airport identifiers for places where you plan to operate. DUAT lets you request your briefing output as plain English, which also helps.



This yields:

RIU 02/167 O88 COMMUNICATIONS CTAF/UNICOM 122.725 INSTEAD/VERSUS 122.8 WITH EFFECT FROM OR EFFECTIVE FROM 0903010800

FltPlan has a nice way of formatting relevant NOTAMs for a particular airport that makes them stand out.



The sad fact is that there really is no substitute for wading through all the darn NOTAMs. For more information that you could ever possibly want on NOTAMs, read this. And even if it's a beautiful VFR day, get a briefing, read those NOTAMs, and keep your eyes peeled.

And don't call me at the old number.

'Chute First ...

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.

Model Behavior

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.

Needs Work

Merced Castle Airport used to be a base for B52 bombers and the ramp area was (is) huge. I haven't been there in a while, but the bomber parking area used to be lined with large blast fences. The 11,000 feet of runway is longer than most, with overrun areas on each end. I flew there several years ago with a student pilot for a cross-country instructional flight. My student did a nice landing, but missed the first turn off. The next turn off was several thousand feet down the runway and the taxi back to the air museum was excruciatingly long.

When it was time to leave, I jokingly observed "Heck, the ramp is deserted. We could just point to the west and takeoff right here!" We got a good laugh out of that one. Taking off or landing on a taxiway or ramp is something helicopters do regularly, but not fixed-wing aircraft. In an emergency, you can of course land anywhere, but this knowledge didn't prepare me for what I saw a week ago at a nearby, non-towered airport.

I'd arrived with a pilot doing a high-performance checkout with the intention of practicing landings. There was one other airplane in the pattern, so we joined them and the first two times through the pattern provided just the training opportunities that we needed. Then things got busy. Two other aircraft joined the traffic pattern. The common traffic advisory frequency was busy, but everything was going smoothly and I had a good mental picture of who was where. That's when ... it happened.

We'd just started our crosswind turn when we heard a new aircraft announce that they were on short final for the runway exactly opposite what the rest of us were using. Now in theory, all runways are active at a non-towered airport, but going against the flow can be dangerous and needs to be carefully considered and coordinated with other aircraft operating at the airport. I turned and saw the aircraft on short final and was shocked to see an aircraft departing the opposite direction. Each aircraft made a comment on frequency and Mr. Wrong Way said something about how they were "just practicing emergencies." This led me to the conclusion that an instructor was on board, but where did they come from? They seemed to just appear in the pattern out of nowhere.

Mr. Wrong Way made another comment that they saw the opposite direction airplane and that everything was fine. We'd turned downwind and were paralleling the errant aircraft as it offset away from the runway. Mr. Wrong Way passed within 100 feet of the departing aircraft as it climbed out. Mr. Wrong Way continued, overflew the ramp, touched down momentarily on the ramp, and then took off. As he became airborne, he overflew the fuel island and numerous parked aircraft. He continued his opposite direction upwind, overflying houses in violation of the local noise abatement procedures. After his first two radio calls, I never heard another. He departed the pattern and disappeared.

Two days ago, while in the run-up area, I witnessed a Lancair that was told to hold short of the runway by the tower. The pilot actually crossed the hold short line and held between the hold short line and the edge of the active runway. An aircraft passed right by the Lanceair and landed, so I turned to my student and commented "You just witnessed a runway incursion." As the landing aircraft continued its rollout, the Lancair must have really been chomping at the bit because he began to creep onto the runway, a full 10 seconds before the tower told him to position and hold. The tower controller never said anything and, due to the distance between the tower cab and the hold short line, he may have not realized that the Lancair was on the wrong side of the hold short.

On another flight, in the traffic pattern at a nearby towered airport, we were told to extend downwind and follow an experimental aircraft that was inbound on a base entry. My trusty PCAS was mounted on the dash and it alerted us to an aircraft well below. That's when we saw the experimental, inbound on a base entry at about 200 feet AGL, overflying a refinery and, from my perspective, it just barely cleared the tops of the cracking towers.

I recently witnessed several other stupid pilot tricks, but I won't belabor the point. As an instructor, I've never claimed that I've seen it all, but I used to see these sorts of antics once or twice a month. My perception is that this behavior seems to be on the rise and it makes me wonder.

The GA community is, by and large, self-regulated. There aren't many FAA "cops" out there, giving tickets and keeping us honest, Most of the time, self-regulation works just fine. Pilots tend to avoid dangerous behavior because they don't want to get hurt, or worse. When their aircraft gets into a dicey position, a healthy pilot feels uneasy, they may even feel fear. These feelings are good because they tend to keep us from doing dumb ass things. That keeps us from bending planes and it keeps us alive.

More than a few pilots out there seem to lack this healthy perspective. I've given instruction to a few pilots who never seemed to feel fear and their inappropriate reactions to risk scared me. Instructors and experienced pilots need to continue to set a good example, but that might not be enough. Keep your eyes peeled because Mr. Wrong Way and his bretheren are still out there and they seem intent on being selected out of the gene pool. Don't let them take you with them.