Showing posts with label flight training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flight training. Show all posts

• Random Thoughts On Flight Training

None of this is in any particular order, and none of it may be right for you. But, based on over 50 years of accident- and incident-free flying and about 10,000 hours in the air, this is reality as I see it. Your mileage may vary.


Fly from the airport nearest home, work, or school so it doesn't become a big pain to drive there frequently. Actually, one student I had moved to be closer to the airport (she's an airline captain now pulling down a six figure salary). Starting, but not finishing, is a combination of personality, motivation, economics...and geography.


Don't go take a ground school course and then start flying. Ground school is like space travel. Astronomers know a hell of a lot, but it ain't the same as being an astronaut. Book work in a classroom can seem boring and sometimes irrelevant. But when you're flying you'll develop an urge to know and -- ta-rah! -- there it is in your ground school just when you need it. The AOPA's Airs Safety Institute has some great ones. The King Schools video courses are okay, if you can stand their corny, evangelical preacher style. There are some good combined video/computer CD-ROM/online courses. I like Jeppesen, but there are other good ones including ones the aircraft manufacturers have put together. Rod Machado has written some good, and rather funny, training manuals too.

If you can afford it, consider buying a used airplane and paying an instructor to teach you in it. You'll pay the instructor more per hour than at a school, and buying an aircraft when you don't even know how to fly is a big step, a radical idea, admittedly. But used aircraft, in general, are appreciating. You'll be paying yourself to use it, not including a profit markup to a school. A decent trainer can be found for around $25,000. Get a subscription to Trade-a-Plane or buy a couple of copies from the local pilot shop. You'll find everything from Piper Cubs to 747s, Stearman biplane trainers to F-18 Hornets for sale. I don't recommend 747s and F-18s as your first aircraft, however.


If you can find someone to do it with you, consider learning to fly together in a 4 seater. Slightly more expensive per hour, whether from a flight school or to operate yourself, but you get twice the exposure by watching each other. This approach sometimes creates scheduling problems, but worth the effort.

There are dishonest salesmen that sell aircraft just like the kind that sell cars (maybe worse), so find someone that really knows aircraft to help you pick a good one. Most of us that fly have the sickness bad enough you won't have trouble finding someone to go shopping with you. Condition and price vary widely for the same model based primarily on airframe/engine hours, radios/equipment, and age/condition.

Great pilots can be lousy teachers, and vice versa; so find one that works for you. Pick an old one with lots of experience, that communicates with you. Youngsters can teach you stick and rudder skills, but that's the easy part. You fly an aircraft with your head, not your hands. Experience is a hard teacher because the test comes first, then comes the lesson, so learn from an experienced instructor. And pick carefully; there are instructors where the student is important and there are instructors where the instructor is important.

Nuttin' against young instructors, by the way (I actually was one once too), but one of the paradoxes in the process is that young flight instructors need experience and their knowledge is proportional to the mistakes they've made. Good judgment comes from experience, experience comes from bad judgment--so learn from the mistakes others make. A new instructor just hasn't had the time to goof, but a gray eagle can teach you judgment and share the mistakes...er, experiences. By the way, when you make a mistake, try to make each one a new one so you can learn from it. That said, mistakes are inevitable. How you handle mistakes is what's important.


Ask yourself, "Who's buyin' and who's sellin'?" It's your money so if the first one or two don't click, fire 'em and get another. If you're unhappy with instructor three or four or five, ask yourself if you really want to learn to fly, maybe the problem is you. Don't be afraid to go to another school, too. If you feel maintenance standards, paper work, bookkeeping or style isn't what you want/expect don't be afraid to try another one. If whoever you use doesn't have a folder of required maneuvers/experience, a list that they use to keep track of your progress, buy one of your own and make your instructor fill it out. I like Jeppesen's best...but that's probably only because they're the ones my instructor used eons ago, and they're the one's I use.

Once you're comfortable with an outfit and an instructor insist that you fly with the same one. You don't want to have to demonstrate to every new instructor what you know every time you go fly, and you don't want them wasting your money while you re-learn something you already know. A periodic flight check with someone else (usually called a stage check) is a good idea, just for quality control purposes. If your school doesn't offer them (insist on them) find someone and schedule your own check rides for yourself. As a courtesy make sure your instructor knows you're doing it.


You didn't ask, but....they're called charts not maps, aircraft not airplanes or planes (or plains), biplanes not bi-planes or worse yet bi-wings. When you take the keys out of the switch put them on the dash in full view from outside so you'll know the mags are off. Leave the rotating beacon on when you shut down so you can tell from outside when you forget to turn off the master switch (and you will) . Turn the beacon and all lights off before start because airplane batteries are small (to keep them light) so they don't have much juice to crank the starter. Yes, you can push or pull on a propeller if you do it close to the hub (with the switch off), but don't push on the spinner or the prop tips. Always chock your airplane. Never trust a fuel gauge unless it's showing near empty, then assume it's optimistic. When you start the engine keep the RPM below 1000--those first few seconds without lubrication are hard on the machinery that's going to keep you safely in the air. Airplanes, like power boats, produce a wake--watch your prop-wash and don't blast people, airplanes, or fill other people's hangars with dirt.

Fly the airplane first, then think, then navigate, then talk. If you're doing your job right nothing is going to happen so quickly that a moments reflection is going to hurt anything and it most certainly can help. There are very few situtations that require instant reactions. Your airplane isn't going to suddenly plummet from the sky, for example, if you're a little lost. (Okay, if you're A LOT lost it might become a glider if you haven't paid attention to your fuel. But even then it will glide for quite a long time if you've given yourself lots of altitude and speed to work with.) You and your aircraft are a team. You take care of it, it'll take care of you. Don't depend on that, entropy is an force than will not be denied--things do break--but there are times when if you just let the airplane fly it will do just that while you think about a solution to your problem. And if the worst happens, as Bob Hoover puts it,  keep flying until all the pieces come to a stop. As long as you're flying, you have options.


My Dad learned to fly in 1944, flew A-20s and A-26s in the Pacific during WWII, and for 50 years after that safely flew for business and pleasure. His most valuable piece of advice to me was to always give yourself an out. Always have an option. When you run out of options, when you don't have alternatives, you're in trouble even if everything is working fine at the moment.

The FAA folks, for the most part, are your friends. Treat them with respect, ask their advice, listen to what they say. (Yes, there are few bad eggs that ruin it for everyone. There are pilots like that too. Note that there are more pilots than Feds.) Next time you're inclined to gripe about a controller's handling of your flight remember that day-in day-out they make far fewer mistakes than pilots.

An old aviation maxim sez: Fuel in the truck, runway behind you, airspace above you, good weather behind you, and charts in your car are all worthless. All true.

Bernoulli keeps an airplane in the air? Not true, Newton does. Read this if you (or your instructor) don't believe it. Actually, money is what really keeps an aircraft in the air, but that's a different issue.


You'll never know all there is to know about flying. When you start to feel as if you really have this flying thing down pat, watch out! That's when your aircraft, weather, your own stupidity, or some unknown is about to make you humble again. Doesn't matter if you have 100, 1000, or 10,000 hours. Heck, I had almost 10,000 hours and got well and truly lost in deteriorating weather within 5 miles of the airport one day!

Controller "North American 55 Kilo say your intentions."

55K "Um...land?"

Controller "Recommend a ninety degree right turn to remain on the final approach course."

Subtle, very subtle. Turns out they were in the tower cab laughing at ol' Tailspin Tommy and how he got lost on final. Keeps ya humble, flying does.

A required part of your training should be a visit to a control tower, a visit to an approach control/center facility, toward the end of your training do some serious flying in a glider, and some aerobatics--especially spins. Even a ride in a high-altitude chamber is a good idea, especially if you're flying something that will get you up high--set it up through your local FAA office. You'll be a much better, safer pilot for all of it. Visit Sun 'n Fun in Lakeland FL (Spring) or EAA Air Adventures in Oshkosh WI (Summer), the National Air Races in Reno (Fall), The National Air & Space Museum in Washington (any time) at least once. The Air Force Museum in Dayton, OH and the San Diego Aerospace Museum are well worth the visit too (so are the three museums at Chino, for that matter). At any museum, by the way, the place to go is the restoration facility and/or the annex. That's where they stash the goodies, in my experience.


Try to fly on weekdays so air traffic doesn't cost you so much waiting on the ground or flying in circles waiting to enter the traffic pattern. Yeah, it's all goes in your log book, but when you're learning to fly you want quality time not quantity. Build time after you have your license. Don't let your instructor spend your money jawing with the engine running. Aircraft are for flying. Classrooms, airport cafes, and bars are for talking.

It ain't gonna be easy. You will find plateaus in your progress that will be frustrating. Try to fly at least twice a week so you don't forget too much between lessons. National average to solo is about 20 hours, to Private Pilot check ride is about 80 hours, last I checked, so don't expect it to happen over night. Especially toward the end it's still hugely fun, but seems to drag on trying to schedule around yourself/aircraft/instructor/weather for the cross countries.

Don't fall into the trap of quitting right after you solo. Lots of people do because they feel a surge of achievement (often the biggest of their life), but then they look down the road and see several grand in expense and several hours a week in time so they decide they've made it and wander off. The biggest sense of achievement you ever have is after you take your check ride, receive that Private Pilot's License, and take your friend/wife/folks/kids for a flight.


'Course that Private Pilot License (PPL the Brits call it) is just a license to start learning and tackling more complex aircraft, learning to fly instruments, traveling cross-country on vacations and business, and a lifetime of experience. But be careful what you pray for, they say, you may get it. Richard Bach's version: "An idea is never given to you without you being given the power to make it reality. You must, nevertheless, suffer for it." That's certainly true about learning to fly. You'll enjoy a whole new perspective, you will literally never be the same again, but you'll have to work for it. All for the better, I say. (Yes, I'm prejudiced).

Figure with Ray-Ban sun-glasses, David-Clark headset, big watch, flight bag, books, charts, ground school, flight training, and check rides you'll spend $3500-$5500*. Many banks offers loans for flight training, by the way, and the GI Bill will pay for advanced training, once you have your Private Pilot Certificate. There even are some scholarship programs that will contribute to your training. Join the AOPA and the EAA (they have financial programs too). You'll get their outstanding magazines and learn a lot from them. Read voraciously, visit AvWeb and get their twice a week email news, subscribe to Flying, Private Pilot, and Pacific Flyer etc. Cheap education--remember you want to learn from someone else's experiences.

Sorry this was so long, as mathematician Blaise Pascal once wrote, "I have made this rather long because I haven't had time to make it shorter."

Go to it! And feel free to e-mail questions, dissenting opinions, or additions anytime.

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*Glenn 'Sky-ho' Daly, a professional friend, professional flight instructor, and professional writer adds:

Buy a headset. It makes communications much easier and it will protect your hearing. I HATE those overweight, uncomfortable, pea green David Clark headsets. The only reason to buy a David Clark is the fact that they stand by them after purchase. Maybe buy a cheapie $100 Marv Golden to start, then ask to try your pilot friends' headsets so you can find one you really like. You'll pay upwards of $500 for a good noise canceling headset, but then you'll have two, a cheap one for a passenger and a good one for you.

Also, the $3500-$5500 numbers you quoted are pre-9/11, pre-insurance run-up and pre-fuel run-up. I regularly tell people it'll cost between $6500 - $7500 ... and that's if you fly, as you correctly suggested, around twice a week (I find 3 times a week better, but why quibble.) Figure the costs: 55 hours of airplane at $75/hour = $4125; add 40 hours of instructor at $50/hour=$2000. Add the examiner's fee, currently $350, charts (you're soooo right, not maps), plotter, E6B and books for the knowledge exam add upwards of $200. Don't forget those headsets for $500-$600. AND the written exam fee = $80. Grand total with 55 hours of flying and 40 hours of superior instruction $6855.

You might wanna look at the page I've done on my website, SoCal Skies. Some of our thoughts are amazingly similar, my friend - probably why I like you so much. Blush.

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My Dad sent these oldies but goodies:

There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots.

Truly superior pilots are those who use their superior judgment to avoid those situations where they might have to use their superior skills.

It's better to be down here wishing you were up there than up there wishing you were down here.

Speed is life, altitude is life insurance. No one has ever collided with the sky.

Always remember you fly an airplane with your head, not your hands.

Never let an airplane take you somewhere your brain didn't get to five minutes earlier.

Don't drop the aircraft in order to fly the microphone. An airplane flies because of a principle discovered by Bernoulli [and Newton], not Marconi.

Those who hoot with the owls by night should not fly with the eagles by day.

An airplane may disappoint a good pilot, but it won't surprise him.

Any pilot who relies on a terminal forecast can be sold the Brooklyn Bridge. A pilot who relies on winds-aloft reports can be sold Niagara Falls.

Any attempt to stretch fuel is guaranteed to increase headwind.

A thunderstorm is never as bad on the inside as it appears on the outside. It's worse.

A fool and his money are soon flying more airplane than he can handle.

Remember, you're always a student in an airplane. Keep looking around; there's always something you've missed.

Takeoffs are optional. Landings are mandatory.

• Training for the worst

The Navy version of the training described in a recent Newsweek article is conducted at Warner Springs near San Diego, the home of the West Coast SERE (Survival, Escape, Resistance and Evasion) school.

After a three day classroom seminar with instructors such as Chuck Law, the Quartermaster on the USS Pueblo who had been a POW in North Korea and subject to grotesque torture, we spent a week on the beach and in the mountains eating only what you could scrounge from nature. There wasn't much to be had given that for years bi-weekly courses of 50 guys had been doing the same thing in the same area. A few snails and one tiny prickly pear from a cactus wasn't enough for me, and by the end of the week I was weak enough that just walking around was a huge effort. Sleep depravation was easy given cold mountain nights, hard ground, and no protection except a few pieces of parachute silk.



Then you go through an evasion course where 'enemy' soldiers are on on patrol, and machine guns pepper the area with fake bullets. Weak or not you find the energy to run. A favorite trick was to yell, "I see you Yankee. Stand up or I'll shoot. " And often a well hidden and unseen flyer would stand up.

But by definition you don't succeed in your evasion attempts and you don't escape. Captured was violent. They used the now infamous waterboard treatment on us (all the more effective when they do it to your buddy and make you answer questions while he gasps, drowning, and throws up). I was even knocked out once after being slammed up against a wall. They take all your clothes away except undershorts, a jacket, and your boots, cover your head with a canvas bag, and put you in a dog house size enclosure, no bigger than the hole under a desk where you can't sit up straight or stretch out.



Periodically the guards would come and bang on the cages just to keep you awake with your heart rate off the scale, and you're subjected to several interrogations. I stuck to my story that I was a new trainee and didn't know anything about the EA-6B's secrets. But they use every trick in the book. Southern boys were interrogated by black instructors, for example. And there was a bogus United Nations representative, with a French accent, that was your friend and offered food if you'd tell how you were doing (as if he cared) and what you knew (he cared far more). Spray from a hose in 36ยบ temps is effective too, when your teeth are already chattering from cold and an over dose of adrenalin. Periodically we'd all have to form up for a 'Red Cross' inspection, really Navy medics making sure we weren't being harmed—at least physically.

And they do get inside you head. Spent a fair amount of time at one point trying to figure out how to communicate, in a "confession" letter we were supposed to write, that I was okay and who else was with me. Then I remembered that we would all be "rescued" within 24 hours.

Our senior officer present was doing such a good job as a leader they finally had to remove him from the course. He was shot, in front of us, in a very realistic way. Many of us, including myself, had a hard time not believing that some instructor had run amuck and over stepped the rules of the 'game' because the other instructors all acted horrified and dragged him away as our leader lay in a heap.

At sunrise the next day, oatmeal and the star-spangled banner were never so good. The memories, to this day 35 years later, less so. Yet, rationalization or reality, I did feel better prepared if I'd had to play the game for real. How you physically, and more important, mentally, survive seven years of such treatment, none of it simulated, is an amazing testament to human resilience. What they've learned about our chemistry that lets us survive and even excel in such an environment, as described in the Newsweek article, is fascinating.

This pictures was taken at NAS North Island, about two hours after we were released, and after we'd had a chance to clean up a little, if not shave. Made the mistake of wolfing down a donut and coffee and regretted it for hours.



Some comments from others who went through the school:


I went through Navy SERE level D at Warner Springs near North Island...during Vietnam. I can tell you this. It is an extremely brutal no bullshit course and it has to be. The enemy is typically brutal so you must be trained to Survive, Evade, Resist and Escape. They use the waterboard..beatings, not love taps...real *** beatings.. solitary confinement..interegation...sleep depravation..starvation..etc etc. to bring out your worst fears..break you down mentally and physically to where you are basically withdrawn internally so your no longer aware of anything beyond your current situation. At this point the intensity increases to a breaking point level...you may actually believe that your a POW at some point...that being in training is a mistaken illusion. This is where you pass or fail...You will leave SERE knowing who you really are and or are not. While I cant say I or anyone every enjoyed the experience I can say that I am a stronger person due to SERE training. My final statement during the after action review was..."This I now know! The Enemy will not take me alive...the last bullet will be mine."

During training I escaped three times and burned down the bamboo interegation hut...they kicked my *** six ways from Sunday for that but my response was.."My mother beat me harder" From that point the beatings never stopped..

Last memory in POW training was absolute madness surrounding me...next thing I know is we are debriefing in San Diego..and eating at the chow hall like a starved pig....

SERE nowadays is probably much more Politically Correct which in my opinion does nothing but leave the sailor unprepared for what to really expect.

There is no training in the military more extreme than SERE...only the enemy can offer you more...

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My son went last year. He said if he was Ever faced with the choice of going through SERE again and his career in flying, he would not fly again. He said there was a point he truly did not know that he was in the US. He was also pretty beat up/bruised. Nothing he experienced indicated "political correctness".

• Genetics and Bureaucracy

The first Navy aircraft I flew in were older than I was, vintage Beechcraft UC-45J Bugsmashers. Piloted by recent fighter and attack jocks with a chip on their shoulder because of their assignment to a menial training job, it wasn't the most fun flying I'd ever done. Sir! No Sir! But it did put wings of gold on my chest, and a bunch of interesting experiences in my log book.


It all started when I was flunking out of college. Even though I was studying my ass off every day (and half the night) nothing seemed to be working, so I decided in desperation to try something different. Driving from the dorm out to the little local grass strip in a friends car I hoped that whatever I had to do to learn to fly would somehow lead to better grades or at least a non-college-graduate career. And, lo, by the time I'd earned my private pilot's certificate my name had actually appeared on the Dean's List (once, by the skin of my teeth), and I was close to graduation.

As college days came to an end in 1969 the war in Vietnam was going on hot and heavy, and the draft loomed in the future. While the call-up was based on a lottery I've always mistrusted the adage, "you can't win if you don't play," and favored the one that admitted, "your chances of winning are essentially the same if you play or not."

Self-determination rather than luck seemed a better course. The idea of slogging through a hot jungle where people try to kill you wasn't appealing. So thanks very distinctly to the inspirational even patriotic (but not very cautionary) Victory At Sea television series, I applied for Navy flight training.

Assured by the recruiter that I'd be sent to flight school after going to regular navy Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island, I signed on the dotted line. Finding myself in an office in the Philippines six months later, not a cockpit in Pensacola, I was sadder but wiser. But less than a year later the Admiral I worked for wrote to a buddy who just happened to be CINATRA (Chief of Naval Air Training), and before long I was where I wanted to be, young wife and infant daughter in tow.

My eyes didn't meet the pilot standard so Naval Flight Officer (bombardier/navigator or radar intercept officer) training was my destiny even though I had a pilot's license in my pocket. I've never been happy about that convergence of genetics and bureaucracy, but it did mean I could Fly Navy, and that was better than driving a ship or sleeping in a foxhole any day.

Scheduled for an 3 hour cross-country radio navigation hop, I reported to the flight line with a bit of a head cold and a little stuffed up. Eager to fly and even more eager not to show any weaknesses, I ignored my sniffles. But not for long.

Climbing out of 2000 feet to our initial enroute altitude of 7500' my right ear felt like someone was trying to drive an ice pick in it with a hammer. I suffered for a couple of minutes, and scribbled a note to the pilot I had a medical problem and we need to get down now!

He gave me a puzzled look, I pointed at my ears. He held his nose and did a 'blow' demonstration. I gave him a thumbs down sign, the cut sign across my throat for "this has gotta stop," and pointed emphatically at the ground.

A former Douglas AD 'Spad' driver he got me down. Oh baby did he get me down. Chopping the throttles, he dumped the gear and flaps and did a split-S. I have a very clear image of looking out the windshield from a seat in the rear cabin and seeing green/brown Florida dirt up and blue/white sky down. Hard to tell what it did to the poor old engines and 100 knot Vfe flaps, but it sure fixed my ears.

I gave him a thumbs up and he passed a note back, "OK low? Continue?" I nodded yes, and enjoyed my first low level, really low level, navigation lesson. But that's another story.

Moral? Don't ignore the little things. Eager to excel, I didn't want a mere head cold to thwart a studly Navy flyer on a mission. Your sub-conscious can't talk, but it can whisper to you. Your body certainly can talk, and it'll yell if you don't listen up!

Blue skies and tailwinds,

Tailspin