As all pilots know, the Federal Aviation Regulations require licensed pilots to go through recurrent flight training in the form of a Flight Review every 24 months. The regulations require 1 hour of ground review and a 1 hour flight. This is all that a pilot has to do to legally maintain his or her VFR currency to fly alone in an airplane. Of course, when passengers are aboard, the pilot has to have done 3 takeoffs and landings in the previous 90 days.
What if the pilot in question hasn’t flown in 20 years? All the regulations require is 1 hour of ground review and a 1 hour flight. Kind of scary, isn’t it? (Any instructor worth his salt would not, however, turn a pilot loose with just those flight review minimums if they haven’t flown in 20 years without an extensive amount of recurrent flight training)
Now, a lot can happen in 2 years in between those flight reviews. Regulations change, airspace is modified, and skills change (for the better or worse, most often for the worse over a period of not flying). For a current pilot who flies once or twice a week, those minimums are no problem. Here’s the thing, though. Even those current pilots typically don’t do a lot of stall practice or emergency procedure practice on their own. These are the most critical areas of flight and to only do them every two years leads to a lot of rust building up, sometimes even causing safety concerns in some instances.
How to remedy this? Scheduling recurrent flight training as often as possible with a good instructor who puts you through your paces. Do this often enough and stalls will become second nature. The stall warning horn goes off? Well, lower the nose and add power. Engine failure? Switch tanks and set best glide. Recurrent flight training allows you to become as familiar as possible with your airplane, allowing you to know what to do in every circumstance.
What’s a good recurrent flight training schedule? There are several options out there. The WINGs program is a pretty good option, though you will only have 3 flight training sessions in those two years instead of 1, but it’s a good start. In recent years, the FAA has put out Advisory Circular 61-98B encouraging pilots to begin personal currency programs for themselves. The suggested schedule for VFR recurrent flight training is every 4-6 weeks.
Texas Top Aviation highly recommends this suggested schedule, for both VFR and IFR. The AC doesn’t have a specific recommendation for IFR recurrent flight training, but flying 2-3 approaches a month with an instructor helps keep pilots as proficient as possible in the IFR environment. This way, the instructor can introduce circumstances in a controlled environment that simulate abnormal conditions that might possibly be encountered in flight. If those abnormal conditions are encountered, then it will be second nature on how to handle them, leading to less accidents and safer flying habits.
Try to schedule your recurrent flight training every 4-6 weeks and your piloting skills will stay top notch, keeping you safe and proficient in every circumstance.
I recently purchased the new, wireless, Lightspeed Tango headset. I’m a little OCD, so when a headset wire is banging against my shoulder while I’m trying to tune a radio or point something out, it’s a little annoying. A headset without the wires caught my eye.
As I’ve stated before in a previous article, I really like Lightspeed headsets. They are more comfortable than Bose, and a little bit more affordable too. The noise canceling quality is very high in the different Lightspeed models. I personally believe it got even better with the Lightspeed Tango.
Let’s talk about the obvious first. Not having a wire connecting you to the headset jacks is really nice. You’re not tethered to anything, so your head is free to move anywhere without getting yanked back in place. Lightspeed developed a new technology, called Lightspeed Link, which bypasses Bluetooth or Wifi and connects the Panel Interface to the headset wirelessly.
The Link technology works pretty well. The only problem I have noticed is in certain airplanes, I occasionally lose one ear, but after I wiggle the input wires around, the deaf ear comes back up. It may be a loose connector in the plane itself.
The really nice thing about the Lightspeed Tango is the fact that it doesn’t need AA batteries anymore. Lightspeed put rechargeable lithium ion batteries in both the Panel Interface and the headset. You get 12 hours of battery life out of both, far surpassing any length of time you would want to be in an airplane. If the battery dies, there is a handy aux cable that can connect the Panel Interface directly to the headset (the ion batteries recharge with the included wall charger and USB cables in 2 hours).
Though the Lightspeed Tango is slightly heavier than the Zulu 2 due to the Link hardware and the lithium ion battery, it is still extremely comfortable. The ear cups actually fit better over my ears and give me a better seal with glasses on then the Zulu 2 did. As with all Lightspeed products, there is no squeezing of my head and the cushions on top of the headset sit very comfortably on top of my head.
The Bluetooth is much simpler to use than the Zulu 2 and definitely simpler than the Bose A20. Sound quality is very good for phone calls and music. The volume control on the headset itself is set to make smaller adjustments so you don’t have to deal with wide swings in volume.
Overall, I’m a big fan of the Lightspeed Tango. I am recommending them to all the pilots I talk to. Rolling in at $400 cheaper than the Bose, you can’t go wrong.
A couple of months ago, I had a life-threatening experience while flying. Thankfully, with my flight training, along with a lot of luck, I am here to talk about it.
One of my many piloting jobs is as a glider tow pilot. For those not familiar with gliding, since a glider doesn’t have an engine, every time a glider pilot goes and flies, it’s a team effort. A powered airplane (anything from a Super Cub to a turbine powered Air Tractor) is attached to the glider via a tow rope, which is about 200 feet long. Once the glider pilot gives the go ahead over the airport’s CTAF, then the tow plane begins it’s takeoff roll, pulling the glider along behind it.
The glider becomes airborne prior to the tow plane, then the tow plane will circle the airport environment till it get’s to the pre-determined altitude to release the glider. Some tows are pattern tows and some are higher (not usually above 3,000 AGL), depending on the request from the glider pilot. Once the altitude is reached, the glider pilot pulls a handle in the glider to release the tow rope, then begins his glide. The rope stays attached to the tail of the tow plane, which in turn descends back down to the runway and lands. The tow plane also has a tow rope release handle in case of emergency.
On this particular tow, the plan was to tow the glider up to 3,000 AGL. Upon reaching 2,500 AGL, the glider pilot called me on the radio and stated that his rear canopy had opened up. I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, the rear canopy was fully opened while he was still in level flight behind me. I asked him if he wanted me to tow him closer to the field, but he didn’t reply.
Now, as an experienced tow pilot, I know a glider canopy popping open should not be an emergency situation. It’s definitely abnormal, but would be similar to a door or window popping open in a powered airplane. Not a big deal. If too much force from the relative wind is applied to the canopy, it would snap off; however, a glider can easily land without a rear canopy.
About 5 seconds after I radioed the pilot (and received no reply), I felt my tail instantaneously lift up into a completely vertical position, which caused my nose to go straight down. The next thing I knew, a whole lot of earth suddenly filled my windscreen and I was in what’s known as a graveyard spiral.
A graveyard spiral (as defined from the Airplane Flying Handbook pg 4-23), “is a descending turn during which airspeed and G-load can increase rapidly….the airplane is flying very tight circles, in a nearly vertical attitude and will be accelerating since it isn’t stalled.” It’s also known as a spiral dive.
Back to the story. At this point, I tried to reach for the glider release handle. Unfortunately, due to the shoulder straps holding me against the seat, plus the g’s, and also the quart of oil and tow bar that flew forward and hit me in the back of the head, I couldn’t reach it. I was semi-upside down at a certain point, which dislodged the oil and tow bar from the floor of the baggage compartment. They sailed over the seat and nearly gave me a concussion.
At this point, 2,500 feet above the ground, I had a choice to either fight for my life at a very low altitude or to sit back and become part of a big explosion.
I decided to fight for my life.
As I was spiraling to the ground, I felt the tow rope snap. Up to this point, I had still been attached to the glider. The rope snapping was a good thing, as my airplane was now under my control, not attached to, and being affected by, a glider (more on that later). I now had a lifeline, no pun intended.
After I felt the rope snap, my instincts and training kicked in. I initiated the spin recovery procedure using the PARE acronym. This task was difficult to do as I had a lot of debris flying from the rear of the plane to the front, blocking my view out of the windshield. There was also debris around my feet, hampering my ability to use the rudder pedals. The spiral finally stopped and I recovered approximately 500 feet above the tree tops. It took my heart a lot longer to stop spinning.
After barely regaining my emotions, I tried to evaluate the condition of the plane. Were all the pieces of the plane still there, was the engine damaged, did my control surfaces still work?
Once I advanced the throttle and saw an increase in my engine RPM, I started an immediate climb to give me altitude to get back to the airport. I had engine power but I wasn’t sure how long it would last if I had damage. Now, what they don’t teach you during spin training is that when this happens unexpectedly, you will become very disorientated. You have just been spiraling unexpectedly and your equilibrium will be out of whack. As I leveled out just over the tree tops, I was too low to visually see any landmarks, nor could I see the airport. Once I was able to climb, I was able to orient myself and figure out where the airport was.
I had to be very careful getting back to the airport and landing without radio communication, since my radio was knocked out with all of the FOD from the baggage area. Thankfully, the landing was uneventful. After I landed, I saw the glider limp in over the trees. The rear canopy was totally gone, while the front canopy and other parts of the glider had suffered major damage. Miraculously, my airplane wasn’t damaged, except for the wire from the radio which came loose during the spiral.
So, how did all this happen, you ask? Well, the glider pilot made 2 huge mistakes. First, in gliding, the moment the glider pilot loses visual sight of the tow plane, you are supposed to release the tow rope. He did not do that and almost killed both of us.
Second, as pilots we are taught to always fly the airplane first. Everything else, no matter what it is, always comes after flying the airplane. As I stated previously, the loose canopy is not an emergency situation, but since the glider pilot did not aviate first and was distracted, it was almost a fatal day for 2 people and 2 airframes.
So, what caused this chain of events? By getting distracted by the open canopy, the glider pilot inadvertently pulled back on the stick while trying to close the canopy. Then, by not releasing the glider from the tow plane, the glider pilot climbed rapidly with an excessive rate of climb while still being attached to me. The rapid climb is what pulled my tail up, causing my nose to drop and put me into the spiral. The tow rope snapping set into motion my recovery, since up till that point, I literally had no control. An extremely high lift wing was attached to my tail, pulling it up, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
We all spend time practicing and demonstrating emergency maneuvers during our flight training and during flight reviews. Many times you might think, I’ll never need to use this stuff. Thankfully, some of the procedures I learned in the past kicked in at a time of need, even though my heart was beating out of my chest.
At some point in every pilot’s career, some type of spin training or Upset Recovery Training would be highly recommended. Then, when things go wrong, remember to always aviate first, then handle all the other things that need to be handled.
Interested in spin training or Upset Recovery Training (UPRT)? Check out the list of Malibu & M-Class Owner’s and Pilot’s Association (MMOPA) approved UPRT vendors and schedule UPRT training today.
Transition training deals mainly with piston engine aircraft, regardless of whether the airplane is a single or twin. The FAA doesn’t have any special requirements for changing from one piston engine airplane to another, as long as the pilot has the appropriate endorsements (high performance, complex, high altitude, etc.) and is rated in that category and class.
Transition training is promoted mostly by insurance companies. An insurance company looks at a pilots experience when deciding to insure him or her in a new airplane. If the pilot has only flown Cherokees and Comanches and is now upgrading to a Malibu, then the insurance company is going to require some transition training with a knowledgable instructor.
What is transition training? It is when an appropriate rated pilot needs to learn how to fly a different airplane. These are referred to commonly as checkouts, but with more complicated airplanes, the training is actually very in depth.
Using the example above, Pilot A just sold his Comanche 260 and bought a 1987 Malibu. Pilot A says, “A Malibu is a complex, high performance, single engine piston, which is what I had in my Comanche. I can fly that, no problem.” In reality, a Malibu has a lot of differences.
First, there are more systems in a Malibu. You have pressurization, air conditioning, emergency oxygen, turbo charging, and possibly radar. Not to mention you are dealing with a Continental engine instead of a Lycoming. And, is it a factory TSIO 520 or a converted 550? 2, 3, or 4 blade prop? Glass panel or steam gauges? What kind of autopilot? Plus, it’s a much heavier airplane so it’s going to fly different, have different rotation and landing speeds and handle differently in stalls. What’s the sight picture supposed to be on final approach? What are the emergency procedures?
Overwhelmed yet?
An experienced, insurance approved instructor and training program is a necessity when getting into new airplanes. It makes for safe pilots and safer skies.
As all Cirrus pilots know, SR20s and SR22s have 2 batteries in the Cirrus electrical system (technically, they have 3, as Battery 2 is made up of 2 12 volt batteries in series with each other). Battery 1 provides power to the starter and is a backup for the entire Cirrus electrical system, while Battery 2 provides backup for the Essential Bus items.
If you look on the engine page of either an Avidyne or a Garmin Cirrus, there is a section showing the Cirrus electrical system health. With the engine running, you have voltmeters showing the voltage from Alternator 1 and Alternator 2, ammeters showing the amperage output from Alt 1 and Alt 2, and an ammeter showing the charging rate of Battery 1. There is no indication for Battery 2.
This brings up a question. How does the pilot know that Battery 2 has any kind of a charge? What happens if the whole Cirrus electrical system goes caput and all that’s left is Battery 2? Will Battery 2 have juice then?
The answer is actually rather simple. As part of the pre-flight inspection, the first step in the cabin inspection is to turn the Battery 2 switch on, then check the Essential bus volt meter. The checklist says the voltmeter should be reading between 23-25 volts. This tells you how much voltage Battery 2 currently has. The next step (after ensuring the flap lights are out) is the turn Battery 1 on. Battery 1 then powers the Main Bus and Essential Bus. The voltage showing on the Main Bus shows how much voltage Battery 1 currently has.
Easy enough right? Now you can impress friends and family alike with your Cirrus electrical knowledge!
Thunderstorms are not to be taken lightly. I know you have probably heard that many times in your flying career. Weather related accidents account for approximately 25% of airline and GA accidents.
The Airman’s Information Manual suggests giving a 20 mile berth around thunderstorms. If you are an experienced aviator or a newbie please take this piece of advice seriously. At one flight school where I taught, we had the policy of maintaining a 25 mile buffer around isolated thunderstorms. A bit excessive you think? Maybe, but safety is a good thing!
On this particular day, I was operating a Bell Jet Ranger helicopter during a power line patrol. Power line patrol by itself offers numerous challenges. The job consists of flying along electric power transmission lines at approximately 40 feet above the ground at 40 knots. The crew consisted of me (the pilot) and an observer. The observer is an employee of the power company and it is his job to determine which line(s) will be patrolled during the given day. As I fly along the lines, the observer is checking for anything out of the ordinary such as broken, cracked, or even shot out insulators, excessively large bird nests at the top of structures, or woodpecker holes in wooden poles. The observer knows the lines and he is also a great help in letting me know there is a crossing, and potentially higher, line in our flight path. That makes him a true safety asset! It was late afternoon during the summer and we were about to finish up for the day. We only had about another 10 miles of line to follow before calling it a day. Up ahead, I noticed an isolated thunderstorm near our power line. I could see the heavy rain falling below the anvil shaped leading clouds. It appeared to be well beyond the end of our day’s work so we pressed on.
As we drew closer to the thunderstorm, we were suddenly tossed up on our left side like a dog toy in mid-flight! It seemed like we were 90 degrees to our normal cruise attitude and, to make it worse, we had the doors off on that hot summer day. I was able to recover and we did an immediate about face and high tailed it home. Forget the rest of that line, tomorrow is another day.
The destructive force of thunderstorms cannot be overstated. In addition to extremely heavy rain, they can contain strong wind shear, large hail, and severe turbulence, each of which can damage or destroy an aircraft. Take care when one of these bad boys is near your flight path. Give it plenty of respect and a lots of room, for safety’s sake.
Alan VanDoren is a 7000 hour ATP pilot. He has flown both fixed wing and helicopters as a police pilot, missionary pilot, flight instructor, and most recently as an EMS pilot. He has flown in five countries around the world and also teaches university level aviation courses in his spare time.
