Flying to Your License

I am a huge advocate for challenging one’s flying boundaries.  Pilots are naturally bound by the restrictions embedded within our various licenses, and the operating limitations of the aircraft we fly.  When we first get our ticket, most of us set personal limitations that vary from the restrictions and operating limitations of our licenses/aircraft, generally, by a respectable amount.  Such divide, let’s call it the pilot-regulations gap, does not need to remain fixed as time progresses.  

 

Experience naturally dictates a narrowing of the pilot-regulations gap, but movement does not happen without effort.  We are all generally comfortable with going up on a day when winds are 360 at 4 knots and the active is a north-south runway.  However, what is the reading on the TAF that will make you change your plans and cancel your aircraft reservation?  Is it something well within the operating envelope of the aircraft you fly, say winds 310 at 10 knots, with gusts to 15?  If conditions permit you to legally take to the skies, consider challenging yourself and getting up in the air for some work; it will help you become a better pilot. 

 

 

I am not endorsing reckless behavior; the purpose here is to get pilots to fly more and fly safer.  When flying excursions take you away from your home airport, you introduce a bit of uncertainty into the equation.  It is a direct relationship; the longer you are away, the more uncertainty.  This uncertainty mostly centers on weather and airport conditions upon your return to home base as compared to the original forecast.  The longer you are away, the higher the variability between predicted and actual conditions.  If all you ever fly in are light and variable conditions, the day you extend yourself a bit, you could find yourself in unfamiliar territory upon return to the airport.  This could mean that the weather conditions changed, or something necessitated an unexpected runway closure, and the slight headwind you expected is now a crosswind with a gust factor. 

 

When trying to grow my comfort zone, one thing which helps me is to bring along a fellow pilot or instructor for some support.  Maybe it is working the radios when flying into a class bravo airport for the first time (or this time of year, Oshkosh!), or an extra set of eyes to help locate the destination at night when the visibility is under 10 miles, having someone to assist with a task or two adds a ton to the experience.   

 

So, before you send out that cancellation e-mail to the club and remove yourself from Schedule Master, think about whether the conditions are permissible for you to get some flying in.   If so, call a flying buddy and chip away a bit at your personal pilot-regulations gap!

A Wildcat's final landing

Almost seventy years ago, a U.S. Navy FM-2 Wildcat lifted off from the deck of a training aircraft carrier located in Lake Michigan only to experience engine trouble significant enough to render a return to the ship impossible.  With the landing gear down, the pilot somehow managed to ditch the airplane largely intact in the chilly waters and await a successful rescue.

So many aspects of this fact pattern puzzle me greatly... Were there any indicators overlooked during the preflight checks and engine run-up given the gamut of emotions likely running through the pilot's head before launching from a carrier deck? How did he manage to drop the plane into the water with the gear down and not send it into a deadly cartwheel? How much time did he have to react?  What went through his brain the next time he sat on an aircraft carrier deck and pushed the throttle to the stops?  

I am fascinated by warbirds, particularly from the World War II era. These planes are from a time when the United States was in dire need of a strategic advantage, and some of its most gifted citizens rose to the challenge to design marvels under extreme circumstances. When they rolled off the assembly lines, World War II aircraft were immediately thrust into battle, very commonly under the control of very young pilots new to the action (and often to flying itself). I find World War II aircraft fascinating not just because of the exterior beauty, but also because of the underlying stories created by matching such powerful machines with newly minted pilots in combat all over the world.

I first heard about the plans to recover the Wildcat from the depths of Lake Michigan sometime in November 2012 when I came across an article in an aviation forum describing the planned recovery efforts. Like many of the other recoveries that have taken place in the area over the years, I was quite interested, but didn't come across much other information and therefore moved on with my life. Less than a month later, thanks to a connection made through my flying club, Leading Edge Flying Club, I was on-hand to witness the final recovery procedures to pull the Wildcat from the water and place it on dry ground in preparation for a long journey to restoration.  

Prior to my arrival at Larsen Marine in Waukegan Harbor, I expected that the planned ceremony would entail lifting the aircraft from a barge and placing it onto the dock (or something similar). To my astonishment, the majority of the aircraft was still submerged when I walked up.  

The folks at A&T Recovery (masters of this sort of effort) had already pulled the empennage, which must have broken off upon impact, and the canopy from the water and both were sitting on a nearby pallet available for inspection.  Everything else was still resting calmly in the same water that had been home for nearly seven decades.

What followed was a carefully orchestrated operation that involved a crane operator, several ground support staff and a diver in the water, all overseen by a supervisor who played the part flawlessly.  When it was time to begin, all onlookers were politely (yet forcefully) asked to step back.  No one wanted to be asked to leave for being out of place, so the rules were most definitely adhered to.  

The actual lifting of the aircraft from the water came in several stages, each angled straight up and a little towards the shore. The first stage involved slowly lifting the airplane a little at a time to allow water to drain naturally. The diver was in place to provide coverage from all angles; I did notice that the diver had a GoPro camera mounted on top of his head to ensure the unique in-water perspective would be viewable at a later date. Separately, several ground crew members held ropes attached to each wing - effectively acting as a human rudder for the Wildcat as she climbed higher and higher out of the water.

Once the one remaining wheel was safely above the dock elevation, the crane pivoted to move the aircraft into position over a tarp. Laying the aircraft down onto the tarp looked like it would be extremely difficult given that airplane would be resting on a wheel, a wing and a point about halfway towards what would be the empennage on a fully intact airplane.  The A&T team seems to thrive in such situations and had the plane down on well-placed blocks in a matter of minutes. Ironically enough, there was still air in the one tire that remained!

After a brief inspection by a representative from the Illinois Emergency Management Agency determined that no radon gas from the original instruments was being exposed to the air, many others and I were given a green light to walk around and explore the airplane. We were given close proximity access to an aircraft that had not seen the light of day for over two of my lifetimes. It was really difficult to believe that I was actually there experiencing such an event.

Here is a brief video I threw together in hopes of sharing some of the experience...

From what I understand, the Wildcat is destined for a non-flying restoration in Pensacola, Florida that will take many years. The hope is that it will one day be returned to Glenview, Illinois and reside at the Hangar One Foundation's museum as an important piece of the local region's participation in World War II. If things progress as intended, I will be proud to know that I was part of an important chapter to the growing story of this particular fighter.

Living in the along

I often listen to sports radio during my commutes to and from work and, as most listeners know, the segments rarely delve too much deeper than current sports news. One, however, has stuck with me, and that was when one of the hosts on 670AM (the Score) in Chicago was talking about poetry (yes, what you read actually happened).  The host discussed the concept of living in the along; this is essentially the same thing as saying it is the journey, not the destination, that you live for.  When writing this, I could not remember much more of the origin of the saying "living in the along," but I certainly remember the message.  So, to add some further context, I did a quick Google search and found that this was part of a poem (Speech to the young: Speech to the Progress-Toward) written by a poet named Gwendolyn Brooks and the last three lines are as follows:

Live not for battles won.

Live not for the-end-of-the-song.

Live in the along.

I think we could all better ourselves by reading the above and applying this universally across all aspects of our lives.  However, because this is a forum to discuss my journey through aviation, that is the topic on which I will focus my application of this priceless wisdom.

For all pilots, we begin our journey at the same point, with the same objectives - we simply want to become aviators. The road splits shortly thereafter into an infinite number of different paths as we narrow our objectives to specifically what we each want to get out of aviation.  This is where I think we need to really drive home application of Gwendolyn's guidance.  Yes, each milestone you set is important, whether it be obtaining an instrument rating, a certain type rating, or one of the multitude of other things a pilot may achieve.  Without objectives and goals, we would be nowhere. However, we often get too caught up in attaining those objectives and goals and lose sight of the fact that what we are doing along the way to reach those great achievements is amazing in and of itself. 

For me, aviation is purely recreational and so the fork in my aviation journey has led me down a much different path than a pilot at a major airline, for instance.  The overwhelming majority of my missions originate from and end at the same location a few hours later.  Within my trusted logbook, I can see the high level details of each flight - origin, destination, basic highlights, number of landings and hours flown.  However, when I look back after a few years at a particular entry, I'll likely realize that the information I jotted down at the conclusion of a flight doesn't speak much to all that happened during "the along." This realization was the catalyst to my aviation renaissance...

I spoke a few posts ago about taking some time away during the early summer of 2012 from my basic recreational flying to delve into aerobatics.  When I started that experience, I knew I was going to learn something which very few have the opportunity to do so I wanted an outlet to enable me to talk about it and remember as much as possible.  At that point, I sort of took a defibrillator to this blog and shocked it back to life.  Debriefing each flight through writing made me enjoy so much more of even the most basic aspects of a lesson flight profile - practicing tailwheel landings and takeoffs in the pattern. Just as meaningful, when I glance at my logbook a few years from now, I'll know that I can refer back here to get more of the detail and rekindle some of those emotions I felt while flying upside down.  When I started to wrap things up in aerobatics and transition back to my Piper world, I felt like a burst of additional energy and perspective had been injected into me.

While talking about my experiences in this medium has added an additional dimension to my experience in flying, what I've gotten out of it is really just a byproduct of a renewed focus on "the along." It is this mindset which I think offers the most potential for pilots (and non-pilots alike) to extract as much as possible out of flying. However, I don't think achieving this is particularly difficult as in my mind it is driven by a few key principles.

1. Make it fun - To live in the along, it shouldn't be about what you have, but how you got there. As an example, over the last few months, I've gotten checked out in a couple of aircraft types - a Piper Dakota and a Sky Arrow.  Before these experiences, I used to approach a check-out wondering what the timeline was for me to be flying on my own.  In hindsight, that seems more like an approach you would take to completing a task as opposed to an experience.  Bucking this trend for the Sky Arrow checkout, my CFI and I flew up to KJVL with two other LEFC club aircraft and enjoyed a fantastic breakfast.  A substantial portion of the flight up and back was completed at about 1,000 feet and under 100 knots.   While I've been to KJVL countless times, I never before appreciated the scenery like I did from the cockpit of the Sky Arrow.  Being in the thick of fall, the colors were so vivid and there was so much life to be seen.  We could see farmers plowing their fields, cows/horses plodding about, people burning leaves - the common theme being the magnitude of detail.  I didn't want the experience to come to an end! A few years from now, I will look back in my logbook and see a checkout in a Sky Arrow that occurred on October 27, 2012. But, more importantly, given the efforts we made to have fun, I will remember the experience of breaking the chains from earth and witnessing the abundance of life from 1,000 feet, as well as the great camaraderie from flying up with other aircraft and sharing great stories over a hearty Wisconsin breakfast. That's what flying is all about!

Quick touch-and-go at KPWK on a full stomach upon return from KJVL

Not every flight is going to be a cross country with a group of other pilots, but when possible we need to challenge ourselves to step out of our norms and comfort zones and do something different (AND FUN!).  

2. Share the experience - Pilots are granted a license by the Federal Aviation Administration which offers the privilege of the ability to take others into the skies.  If that seat next to you (or behind you in the aforementioned Sky Arrow) is empty, you are not exercising your privilege of flight to the fullest extent. So, to my point above about making it fun, bring others along with you when you take to the skies.  Even if the objective is as simple as beating up the pattern to work on takeoffs or landings for an hour or so, you can make an impact on someone by bringing them along.  Maybe it is a pilot who hasn't had an opportunity to go up for an extended period of time, and the experience of rocketing down the runway or greasing a landing is what triggers their desire to reacquire currency.  It could also be someone who isn't a pilot and has never seen out the front of an airplane in flight.  The experience is also likely have an equally large impact on you - I've had numerous flights with other pilots that have resulted in me gaining some great insight or breaking down a barrier I previously held in my mind (see my entry about flying over the top of Midway Airport in Chicago).  You can turn an experience you would otherwise consider routine into a memorable time by just filling some of those empty seats.

Sharing experiences mustn't always involve going flying to make an impact on someone as it relates to aviation.  Recently, a couple of close friends of mine (who are non-pilots) stopped by the airport for a visit to our hangar.  It was quite obvious that they never before had an opportunity to get so close to general aviation aircraft, and the images on their faces when a very generous fellow club member gave them access to a few different cockpits was priceless.  See the second half of this short video for the tour in action!

While this brief glimpse into general aviation didn't result in the start of a new pilot journey, I am convinced that we will welcome more pilots to our community by dedicating time to bringing non-pilots across the airport fence for a glimpse into this amazing world. 

3. Focus on the Community - Speaking of our community, take advantage of it!  Currently, flying clubs are really getting a lot of attention by many stakeholders in aviation, including AOPA, as a valuable form of community.  During the November 4, 2012 SimpleFlight radio broadcast, hosts Al Waterloo, Marc Epner and Todd McClamroch sat down with Adam Smith of AOPA for a chat about what AOPA is trying to do to stimulate growth in the number of flying clubs as well as improve the quality of existing clubs around the country.  Check out the playback at: SimpleFlight - Adam Smith interview - a lot of great things are happening, and I think all parties involved in this dialogue did a fantastic job of addressing some of the things that can and need to be done.

Connecting with others who share a common bond with aviation via flying clubs is an incredibly powerful means to enhancing our experiences in aviation.  For me, the experience has been so much more meaningful when I have had the opportunity to connect with other pilots both at and outside of the airport.  Even when I am not actually flying, I still feel engaged.  As it relates to actually going flying, coming together as a community has gotten me involved in some great experiences, and the wheels of planning are already turning for more flying adventures to come - stay tuned!

So how can we get more people to focus on the aviation community?  It is going to take commitment on both sides of the spectrum.  Flying clubs need to offer an environment that is conducive to attracting and retaining pilots.  A great barometer of success in my mind is the number of pilots socially active in a flying club who actually fly their own aircraft.  An interesting idea which speaks to this type of environment evolved during this week's SimpleFlight broadcast. Pilots from a number of different flying clubs across the country who were listening to the show connected via Twitter in real-time and agreed that a fly-out to a mutually agreed upon location is a must-do at some point in the not-too-distant future.  Talk about potential - a community that spans the country!  For us pilots, we need to understand the potential and actively seek out these opportunities to connect.  Once involved, commitment is the next key for success.  Carve time out of your busy schedules, attend club functions and most importantly, participate.  Take the initiative and plan a fly out or other type of get together.  Small steps such as these add up quickly.

The common theme here is that we need to make the most of our experiences in aviation.  We need to make sure that we don't take for granted the amazing opportunity we have to hop into an airplane and defy gravity.  Too often, I think we lose sight of this and just think about how quickly we can get to our destination.  So, pull back the throttle a bit and enjoy!

Flying Clubs - Ceiling Unlimited

One thing you do not always learn during the course of initial flight training is the social potential of general aviation. Personally speaking, I did not initially think about interaction with other pilots right away as I was focused on learning and experiencing the whole new world available to me. However, after a couple of years with my ticket, I noticed that I was sticking around the airport more and more trying to catch my CFI, even for just a few moments simply to talk about our most recent flying experiences, some new type of airplane that recently entered the market, or just other happenings around the airport. Given my CFI's obligations of running a business as well as an environment that was not particularly conducive to connecting with the other pilots around the outfit, it was difficult to get my fill of flying-related interaction. So, I hit the internet to see what else was out there and ended up joining Leading Edge Flying Club (LEFC) at KPWK, and over the course of the past two and a half years, the quality of my experience continues to climb at an incredible rate.

LEFC members with the club's Sky Arrow after a quick Saturday morning breakfast trip to KJVL

I feel that all great ideas are built upon the foundation of a simple concept. LEFC was the result of a small group of pilots who came together to fly great planes and have a great time doing it with great people. Easy enough, right? Several years later and that group of individuals has grown to a much larger (I believe over 80 at this point) collection of friends and flying buddies. My introduction to the club was via an e-mail I sent inquiring for more information - the response I received the next day was a phone call from one of the members as he was getting out of a club plane after a quick flight. Talk about practicing what you preach!

So, what has made this experience so meaningful to me? I can easily point to a few critical elements: leadership, commitment, opportunity, and members from a wide range of backgrounds.

From a leadership standpoint, most of the individuals responsible for the core drive of the organization evolved from the initial cluster of pilots who banded together at inception. Obviously, to get something going, those individuals have a special amount of motivation and dedication to aviation. They commit so much of their own free time to enable all of us to reap as much as we can from the group. There are so many elements to running a club apart from the already enormous task of ensuring a healthy fleet of aircraft. The administrative burden alone is quite substantial; financially, there is money coming in, money going out, and someone needs to ensure that at the end of the day the debits equal the credits. In addition to the administrative side, the leaders are tasked with growing the membership pool and keeping the existing members engaged. I think it would be very easy after a period of time to be fixated on the original core ideals of the club and resist drivers of change. In my experience with LEFC, this couldn't be further from the truth. As far as I can tell, new ideas are embraced, whether through open invitation from the membership or expansion and alterations to the composition of the board that oversees it all. This is essential in a collection of individuals greater than just a few; while we all come together via a common love for flying, not everyone has the same objectives or comes from the same background.

Commitment is sort of a sub-component of strong leadership, but it also involves the greater membership as well. One element of commitment at our club comes in the form of regularly scheduled breakfasts. Excluding a few exceptions throughout the year, we meet for breakfast on the first Saturday of every month at a restaurant just down the street from our airport. Committing ourselves to a regularly scheduled event eliminates the difficulty of trying to pull together a large group of individuals at a mutually agreeable time. Sure, there are months here and there where only twenty members show up and there are several empty seats, but there are many more months where there is no elbow room as every available space is occupied. There is also a commitment by leadership to ensure the success of each meeting, generally done through a good deal of planning. This means scheduling interesting guest speakers (recently Dr. Bruce Chien flew up from Peoria, IL to speak with us - I just read an article he was featured in within this month's AOPA magazine) or setting off group discussions with interesting topics. One forum we occasionally hold is called "True Confessions," which is where all of us drop our pilot egos for a bit and admit to mistakes made so that the greater population can leverage each pilot's experience as a learning opportunity.

Another key element of flying club success in my mind is opportunity. This comes in many forms, one of which was implied above, and that is the opportunity to regularly get together. In addition to recurring breakfast meetings, the club offers members a space to congregate in the hangar where our airplanes are housed. This isn't just a space to drop off and store belongings while flying. No, this is a space in which many members have invested countless hours to outfit and continually keep in tip-top shape – note, a refurbishment is ongoing as I type. There are plenty of areas to sit and socialize (even a few seats from a former Midwest Airlines 717), computers for weather briefings/flight simulation, and most importantly, in my opinion, a stocked fridge and large snack table. This type of atmosphere leads to further social interaction and frequently the opportunity to fill an otherwise vacant seat in an aircraft (NOTE: I can't say it enough, empty seats are wasted seats!!!). On numerous occasions I've run into others who just stopped by to see what was going on without any intention of flying. If the weather changes, as it frequently does for us Midwesterners, you don't need to go anywhere to get a heavy dose of hangar flying.

Having people in the club from all walks of life is one more component which I have found particularly beneficial. We have individuals from all sorts of professions/backgrounds - a motley crew that would likely have little chance of coming together save for the common bond of aviation. I think this adds so much to our interactions as each story told completely differs from what the next pilot will tell. A conversation may evolve from discussion about how much fuel a 777 burns taxiing to the particulars of flying a hot air balloon to the highlights of flying to Oshkosh for the first time. This really adds to the uniqueness of the experience and in my mind is a critical element for people staying committed and finding the time to get out to the airport on a regular basis.

Overall, general aviation has been at a crossroads for a number of years, and it is time for its stakeholders to take charge and lay out a course to properly shape its future. We are not attracting enough new blood to this incredible hobby, while at the same time we are not retaining enough people in the active pilot population. There are numerous factors that have gotten us to this point, and I do think that we can get things pointed in the proper direction if we can get more flying clubs to adhere to the basic fundamentals I laid out above.

Some more Oshkosh 2012

Now that the 2012 airshow season is in the past, every now and then I'm going to try to throw in a few more shots I took this year.  Each season I attempt to take a few baby steps in the direction of being remotely capable with a camera.  We have a Nikon D60 with a 70mm to 300mm Sigma lens (very basic model) that is now in need of a thorough cleaning after being put through its paces at countless airshows and a trip halfway around the world to Vietnam.  So, this year's crop of photos required a little more editing to work out a few dust spots.

My goal for the year was to enhance my panning skills; panning is what you do to really capture motion.  As in the examples below, panning is done at a manually set shutter speed that is slower than what you would typically use for normal shots such as a family picture. The effects which you are looking for are the blurred background, a blurred propeller and a nice clear picture of the object in focus (in the center of the frame, of course).  With my skill level, I normally come home from an airshow with several hundred pictures that result in only a small group that I'm really happy with.  Growth is the key, though, right?

The shots below were taken at EAA AirVenture 2012 and are two of my favorite aircraft.  First is the Avenger - a WWII carrier-based torpedo bomber, this is an impressive aircraft in size and noise output as it rumbles down the runway.  Just as impressive is the short distance this beast needs to get into the sky.  Second is a shot of a P-51 Mustang, which is the airplane I would buy if I ever win the lotto.  With its sleek design and Rolls Royce Merlin engine, it just commands respect.

Enjoy!

Every flight is a lesson

Of everything that draws me to flying, there are two key aspects which rank towards the top: the ability to share the experience with others; and the challenges to your brain you encounter in every phase of every flight. 

Since I first got my license, I have always enjoyed taking people up with me.  I can't remember the last time I went up by myself - I view an empty right seat as a wasted opportunity.  Whether it is the excitement when someone sees the approach end of a runway for the first time out the front of an airplane or the questions from a passenger as their curiosity unfolds as the flight progresses, I really value the opportunity to take a non-pilot up (repeat customers are just as fun as first-timers).  What about flying buddies?  Talk about really enhancing the experience; I'll address my opinion of the endless possibilities of flying buddies in a future post.

Having recently been checked out in our flying club's Piper Dakota, I've been eager to take my wife up and show off all of the neat ins and outs of the airplane (and also provide a first-hand advertisement of where a high performance machine can take us).  So, I sort of threw together a rough flight plan to head out to the northwest of KPWK to enjoy the perfect flying conditions and do some aimless flying.  I like doing this when I'm new to an airplane to sort of re-familiarize myself / make sure I know where everything is so that there are no hesitations when I'm in the traffic pattern and other critical phases of flight.

Anyway, after cruising around Chicago's far northwest suburbs / southern Wisconsin, I wanted to pop into Schaumburg Regional Airport (06C) for a quick dinner at Pilot Pete's.  I've never been (which is embarrassing since it is like a ten-minute flight, max, from KPWK) and my recently instituted goal is to fly to a different airport as frequently as possible. As has been my luck recently, the weather for our flight was perfect - no clouds, surface winds of about 10 kts (perfect for some crosswind practice) and unlimited visibility.  We started our takeoff roll at the best time of day to fly, when the sun is nearly down, but there is enough light to still see what you are doing.  Tell me after watching this that you do not agree:

Shortly after the footage ended, we were rocketing to the northwest at about 1,800' MSL when ATC called to let us know that they weren't getting a read from our transponder. Within 30 miles of O'Hare, you are required to have an operative Mode C transponder (this is a device that essentially allows ATC to see your position/altitude on their radar screens) and so I needed to make a decision.  My first instinct was look down at the transponder (in the lower half of the right side of the instrument panel in this particular aircraft) and flip the switch on and off a few times and then cycle the numbers as well to see if anything was stuck.  ATC didn't pick up anything after my initial attempt to resolve. Oh wait, I'm supposed to be FLYING the aircraft.  As I've said before, I think it is easy to get fixated on all of the neat screens / instruments you have in a modern aircraft and forget that the most important information is located outside of the windows.  Thankfully, right about this time, I had a reminder of this lesson as we passed a Cessna 172 (coincidentally, the same 172 I used to fly in my pre-LEFC days) which was doing 360's in the northwest corner of PWK's airspace.  I had to deviate a bit to stay clear and that woke me up to the fact that there are always other aircraft, birds...etc. which you need to see to be able to avoid.

Because of this, I wanted to get out of the area, gain some altitude and take a logical approach to the matter rather than just terminating the flight early - it's hard enough to find time to get out to the airport as often as I would like, and we did not have a problem which would necessitate an immediate landing. So, we took advantage of flying outside of the transponder-required area for a while by cruising over Fox Lake and then up to Lake Geneva, where we traced the entire lake before deciding to return to base.  Once I reconnected with PWK ATC, they kindly let me know that the transponder was still not operational and therefore Pilot Pete's wasn't in the cards for this flight.   

I think one could walk away from our experience with one of two perspectives.  On one hand, you could say that we did not meet the objectives we set for the evening and had to terminate the flight early, thereby deeming the flight a failure.  I prefer the alternative in that we got to go flying and made the most of the opportunity that presented itself.  We certainly got to enjoy the great weather conditions from the air, log some time and learned a few things while doing so.  Success?  Absolutely.  A year or two ago, I likely would have made the decision to abort the flight shortly after getting the initial notification about our issue from ATC.  Back in the day, my first instinct at the hint of any abnormality was to terminate the flight and call the aircraft owner or my CFI to initiate resolution.  An example of this is when, shortly after I got my license, I returned to our parking spot and called my CFI when the magnetos were fouled in run-up.  A quick and simple problem-solving technique (which I should have thought of myself) applied by my CFI and we were on our way again shortly thereafter.  As my experience has increased, I've added the essential element of the decision-making process of assessing whether I can try to resolve the situation myself. 

Besides being representative of increased awareness and skill as a pilot, I think this element of decision-making is essential to maximizing the experience for non-pilot passengers.  If you have a big RPM drop in the run-up before takeoff, you don't need to just taxi back to the hangar and declare a maintenance issue.  Likewise, when faced with an inoperative transponder, we didn't need to land right away, nor did I need to address the situation immediately.  My opinion on dealing with things that happen in flight (or when you are about to go flying) is to first determine whether it is an emergency; second, continue to ACTIVELY fly the airplane (appropriate use of the autopilot meets this standard); and then take the best course of action.  In our case, both my passenger and I enjoyed our flight with only minimal interruption.

We pilots need to do all that we can to dispel common misconceptions held by the non-pilot community that flying is incredibly dangerous.  Being in control of the situation in the cockpit and making rational decisions when unplanned situations arise is one step in that direction.

Champaign Cross Country

Recently, a member of my flying club (Leading Edge Flying Club - at KPWK) acquired a newly refurbished Piper Dakota (PA28-236 for you Piper junkies out there) and leased it to the club for member use.  It's been in the organization since mid summer, but I did not dive in due to my foray into aerobatic / tailwheel flying.  After watching this video that Al Waterloo of SimpleFlight.net posted to SparkReel, I knew it was Dakota time for me:

I talked to Al, who boasts a CFI rating as one of his many credentials, about the process for getting checked out and being a huge advocate of making every flying experience awesome, he laid out a great syllabus.  Here's how it all played out...

We met one night out at PWK and with the intention to climb around the aircraft to really get a good feel for all of the systems and how they interact to get you where you want to go.  After a little familiarization with the cockpit layout (steam gauges combined with some of Garmin's most recent innovations - touchscreen, baby!), we popped the cowling off to expose the engine and everything else forward of the firewall.  If I remember correctly, this was the first time I had ever done that with an aircraft.  I feel like it was such an effective teaching method as we walked through every aspect of the engine's operation and seeing while discussing the different components really helped me visualize the process so much better.  I'll write a separate piece at some point to differentiate the technical aspects of the the Dakota from previous aircraft I've flown, but to sum it up, it is a bit more complex and has a hell of a lot more power!!!

After spending a few hours learning the nuts and bolts, I was ready to take to the air.  For the flying portion of the training, Al suggested a long cross country flight (beyond the standard PWK-JVL-PWK or PWK-RFD-PWK routing I've enjoyed so many times).  As we are both University of Illinois alums, I thought that a trip down to Champaign's Willard Airport (KCMI) was a no-brainer.  We picked a day and planned on meeting at the airport around noon to wrap up some ground school, plan the flight and leave enough time to fly down, tour the campus, get some dinner and make it back before too late.  Sounds pretty sweet, right?  A pilot's license can really open up so many experiences you wouldn't otherwise consider.

I checked the weather religiously for many days in advance of our planned excursion and got increasingly excited as we were gifted with some severe clear sky conditions!  At PWK, Al and I walked through a quick overview of what we wanted to accomplish and then got down to the details.  About three years ago, the 'details' would have involved laying out a bunch of maps across the table while straining our eyes to ensure we get ourselves sufficiently prepared to execute the mission.  A shout out to the engineers at Apple and ForeFlight is well deserved at this point, as Al and I fired up our iPads loaded with the most recent version of ForeFlight and were able to map out our exact route while pulling the most current weather and airport information available.  ForeFlight is a game-changer, in my opinion.  Combining the highly interactive features of the iPad with all of the information a pilot needs (maps, weather, runway information [NOTAM's for you pilots]...etc.), ForeFlight offers pilots an opportunity to step into the cockpit so much more aware of what they will face during a flight than ever before.  With 3G/4G service or an aftermarket GPS, all of that information I just alluded to coupled with a zoomable moving map display opens up a limitless world of knowledge (which further enhances safety). 

Al asked me what route I wanted to take to get down to KCMI; I thought I would impress him with a pre-loaded route that would take us southwest to Dekalb (to stay clear of the O'Hare Class B airspace, of course) and direct to Champaign from there.  Yeah, I'm pretty conservative when it comes to flying and my first instinct is always to pick a route that offers about a 0% chance that I bust Class B airspace.  Al, as part of his constant quest to dispel aviation myths, asked me if I would rather 'hug the Bravo curtain' and fly over the top of Midway (KMDW).  Over the top of Midway?  That can't be permitted for VFR pilots, right?!  WRONG!!!  With our iPads / ForeFlight, Al and I virtually flew our intended route (which was substantially cooler and shorter than my suggestion), agreed that it was going to be awesome and went out to the airplane to kick some butt in the sky.

Taking off on PWK's rwy 16 in front of LEFC sister aircraft (Archer 3096B), we climbed to 1,600' MSL and made our way to our first waypoint, Arlington Park.  Class B airspace at that point starts at 1,900' MSL, so it is critical to keep an eye on your altimeter!  We followed Meacham Rd just to the west of Woodfield Mall, called Schaumburg Airport to announce our intentions to pass north-to-south to the west of the field and really just enjoyed the views that you cannot get except in a general aviation aircraft.  A few minutes later, my office in Oak Brook, IL came into view and I gave a little wave to all of my co-workers plodding away at their keyboards/monitors while we passed overhead to pick up I-88 / I-290 eastbound towards the city.  We dialed up Midway ATIS (repeating recording of current conditions at the airport for all of you non-pilots / aspiring pilots) and gave the tower a call to let them know we were about 10 miles to the northwest following I-290 eastbound.  After ATC verified they had radar contact, Al promped me to ask for clearance to pass overhead north-to-south.  I waited nervously after asking, sort of expecting a chorus of laughter over the frequency.  That did not happen, rather, ATC gave us clearance and told us to pass directly overhead at or above 1,200' MSL.

After banking to the south from I-290, Al patiently helped me pick a point to cross over as well as a few landmarks on the ground to follow to ensure we did not stray off course,.  My arms were tired by the time we crossed the southern boundary of the airfield as I was so intent on holding my altitude, I think I squeezed the yoke with all of my strength.  I certainly did not want to embarrass myself by having the tower call me to tell me I couldn't hold an altitude.  Well, I think the result of all of this was amazing; check out this short clip of the experience...

I would say that we have successfully dispelled the aviation myth that you must fly all of the way out to DeKalb to fly anywhere south of Chicago (and had a great time doing so)!  Seriously, it was that easy.  The rest of our trip down was just as fun, we popped up to 3,500' once clear of MDW's Class C airspace and spent some good time getting used to the Garmin GTN650 / Garmin 560 touchscreen GPS' as well as the Dakota's autopilot.  During this experience, we flew through some light chop, which I found to be very helpful in developing techniques to fly the aircraft and add inputs to the Garmin devices while bouncing around a bit.

First ground stop was Rantoul (KTIP), a former USAF base that is used sparingly at best as a non-towered GA airport.  It's amazing how much older the airport looks as compared to the last time I passed through, which was about seven years ago. I found the Dakota to fly very similarly to the Archer in the pattern - extremely stable in the traffic pattern.  Al briefed me prior to our flight and once again as we entered the pattern that I would need more back pressure on the yoke / elevator trim than I was used to in the Archer to land smoothly. Al - correct.  After a few circuits in the pattern, and a few bounces on landing, we hopped over to KCMI - the winds and our position offered us the perfect opportunity to shoot our approach right over the top of campus.  I stole a few glances from my focus on the runway to take advantage of the view I had for so long been curious about while I was a student.

As VIP's, or rather, pilots who purchased fuel for our airplane, Flightstar, the on-field FBO, gave us the keys to a very nice Mazda 6 with no deadline to return.  Awesome?  You know it!  We cruised around the campus, exchanging a number of 'back in the day when I was here...' stories and determined that we would be remiss by not doing a little tour of the Quad on foot and grabbing dinner at a local establishment.  We both agreed numerous times that we missed the good ole' days of campus life.

Back at the airport after the sun went down, we got Dakota 55T ready to roll and made our way out to the active runway.  On climb out, the campus completely stood out among the pitch black cornfields that surround the Champaign/Urbana area for miles.  It was neat seeing everything once again from the air.   We did some stalls (my first time at night) on our way back north - the Dakota handles these with grace and the stall break (nose drop) is barely noticeable.  Stalls used to be a maneuver that I always dreaded practicing, and for no real good reason that I can point to.  However, after my experiences in aerobatic flying, everything seemed so much slower and controlled during the entire process.  Cheers to Piper for designing such great airplanes.

Landings in the Dakota finally clicked with me after some circuits in the pattern at KIKK (look it up if you are curious - you Illinois alunms will have driven by it countless times as it sits just to the east of I-57) and we made our way back home.  I don't recall the last time I've done pattern work at night at an airport in such a rural area and there were a few moments when my brain told me "dude, it is really freakin' dark out here!"  It is most critical to pay attention to your instruments in this type of situation as your eyes/brain have a more difficult time perceiving depth when there are fewer reference points.  You can find numerous stories about pilots touching down short of the runway at night at an airport surrounded by a dark landscape.

Heading back to PWK, we elected to reverse our course flown earlier in the day - over the top of KMDW, up to Oak Brook along I-290 / I-88 and north to Arlington Park to get one more experience under my belt of this incredible route.  A Southwest 737 passed directly above us on initial approach to KMDW and then directly underneath after landing - super awesome!

All in all, the day's events were a phenomenal set of experiences, hopefully to be repeated at numerous other destinations!