JEP FII-16: Local night flight

Goals:

• 8 night landings, with and without landing lights.
• Light night maneuvers.
• Night VFR navigation.

Flight:
We met up at 6 at the terminal to sign me off to take the written exam and to chat about a few things I missed on the "official" groundschool completion test. I got 94 out of 100 questions right. We chatted about some night topics and the plan for the flight. Sunset was at 6:15, and at 6:45 we headed out to 388 for preflighting.

During the day it had been windy, 13+ kts, but tonight I got lucky and scored calm conditions. But man oh man was it cold! Earlier in the day Chuck had called to ask what the owners' policy was concerning cold-temp starts of the plane. This had not yet come up for us with 388, so I had no idea. Husband indicated that the policy on planes he had rented in the past required preheating at or below freezing, and tonight it was expected to drop below freezing around 7 pm (where'd our unusually tropical winter weather go?!?). I called Kevin (mechanic) to ask if they had a preheater and, upon hearing that they didn't, asked his advice. He relayed that most POH's say preheating isn't required unless the temp is in the teens (Fahrenheit, obviously!) and that provided the engine was "willing" to start he saw no reason for us to cancel the flight on account of temp.

Preflight was cuh-old. Thank the heavenly stars that there was no wind, or else we'd have canceled on account of not physically being able to do the preflight! Ok, maybe I'm a wimp, but it was unpleasant. Husband had given me his hat with bill-clip light again and this time I remembered to bring it. It was fantastic, making the whole process more efficient! Soooooo much easier than fumbling with a hand-held flashlight while using two hands to preflight and hold a checklist.

I found that frost crystals were starting to branch out on the fuselage, and thin smooth patches of frost were forming in various areas on the wings, especially near the tips. Chuck looked it over and said it wouldn't affect airflow and that we'd be ok; it was due to temp differential between the fuel inside the wing and the cooling surface of the wing.

Chuck showed me about rotating the prop a few times manually to get some oil moving up from the sump into the engine as a preparatory action. Finally we got in (although it was not any warmer inside yet, of course).

Three shots of primer. Not enough, engine wouldn't catch. Three more shots. Engine wants to catch, but won't. Three more shots, plus a loaded shot that, while I cranked and Chuck managed the throttle, I'd smoothly feed. This got it, and 388 came to life just like its normal happy self.

On to the flight... I turned on the runway lights (7 mic clicks in 5 seconds) and turned off the blinding runway end strobes (3 long clicks), plugged in the FYJ AWOS in the standby com slot and tuned the HCM VOR on the nav, then executed a standard takeoff on 31. As soon as I rotated and began to climb, all I could see was a gorgeous big sky full of stars. Wow. But weird, too -- was I pitched too far?!??! A quick check of the airspeed indicator said all was as it should be, so after running through the other instruments to verify that we were in good shape, I returned my gaze to that beautiful picture. That must be what the lucky shuttle astronauts get to see.

We climbed to 2500' and headed north. Immediately I could see the telltale city and factory lights that are West Point. For good measure, I dialed the VOR indicator to take us to HCM (after verifying the Morse code), knowing that the 337 would kick us over to the airport. Once departing the VOR and hearing on the AWOS that the winds were calm, I began the descent and set up for a 45 entry into downwind for 27 and clicked on the pilot-controlled lights. As we got onto downwind, however, I noted that the well-lit smoke coming from the well-lit factory was blowing gently westward; perhaps there would be a light tailwind, but it shouldn't be much. We'd give it a shot.... (Famous last words!)

This first approach was probably the worst as far as organization. I was very preoccupied with the differences compared to a daytime pattern, with making my pattern turns at the right time, using the runway lights as the visual cues, and, knowing that 27 has a displaced threshold on account of trees that I most likely wouldn't be able to see, I was major-preoccupied with not being low on final. Also, FYJ has no VASI or PAPI, so it would have to be all based on my judgment and gut feeling about the situation.

Predictably, I came in way high. I was probably still at 300' at least as I came over the threshold at idle power with at least 20 degrees of flaps, maybe 30. Ok, I had wanted to be some high, but that was too much. Also amidst the new distractions of a not-so-well-lit airport environment, I did a poor job of managing my airspeed and was probably ~85 mph on short final where it should be more like 65-70. Go-around #1. I was a little frustrated with myself, but being conservative assured that I'd get to try again!

Second time around was better, but resulted in another go-around. This time I was very careful with my airspeed, keeping it where it ought to be, and at the beginning of final when I realized I was high I put out the full 40 degrees of flaps. I should have made it down this time, but that's when I realized that that tailwind was having a bigger effect than anticipated and was forcing my glidepath to be longer than what I wanted. So a night go-around from full flaps ensued.

Third time around, I was on downwind and Chuck said to turn this pattern into a crosswind entry for runway 9. I was a little glad at that moment to not have to do 27 again since it wasn't going well. My downwind leg was a little too close to the runway, so I decided to extend to compensate for a short base. I ended up drilling along on final, trying not to lose too much altitude too far out, and the landing lights clearly lit the trees below us short of the threshold (they were well below us, but still...). That was proof of two things: 1 - don't wanna be low on final! What if the landing light was out? I wouldn't have seen those trees and while seeing the trees is not what determined how I tweaked my power/glide, it's nice to see something if you know you need to avoid it. 2 - I never saw the trees on 27, so I must have been way-plenty-extra high.

The landing was just fine. No problem. I rolled out to the end of 9, turned around and departed 27 for another attempt at 27. And yet another go-around! Can you believe it?!?! I couldn't. I was starting to feel very frustrated. Things were going wrong, we were talking about them, I was fixing them. Airspeed under control, check. Wide-enough pattern to descend on base, check. Flaps set appropriately, check. Corners of the pattern at proper altitudes, check. Beginning the go-around, I put in the power, started on the flaps, and let out a little of the tension by swearing, followed by an apology to Chuck for the swearing.

Next time around was very similar. I thought I was doing well and anticipating the tailwind. Turning final I was at ~375' AGL. Full flaps. Power off. 75 mph, pulling up a tad to slow those last few mphs off. And we just drifted. Still probably 100' above crossing the threshold. I was ready to go around yet again when Chuck said to land it. This, I felt, was doable but pushing it. Part of the lesson on this landing was that the runway looks shorter at night than it really is. We did finally get down, and with plenty of runway to spare, but I was still feeling very negative about the whole thing and voiced that it wasn't working for me. We talked more about all the variables and left it basically at "more practice needed;" I thought I was compensating for everything already, with the exception of selecting an aim point short of the runway, knowing the wind would drift me past it.

2 landings, 5 approaches. Ugh. (Although if it was baseball, .400 would be heroic!)

I turned us around for a 9 departure, and Chuck called for a soft-field takeoff. I considered going for the checklist, but instead I rattled off the procedure from memory: 10 degrees of flaps, get airborne asap, accelerate in ground effect to Vx, climb out. And so that I did.

When I got abeam the numbers for the landing on 9, Chuck called for a soft-field landing. Again from memory: Full flaps, shallow approach (which I would consciously forgo), hold the nose up for as long as possible after landing. This wasn't so good. Final was fine, and I was good and slow, <65 mph. The stall warning came on before we crossed the threshold, which made me a little nervous since that was not typical for my landings -- horn during the flare was normal. I just tried to be careful with it, and as I flared, we stalled, plopped down a few inches, and I was unable to hold the nose off the surface. I pulled back to at least keep the weight on the mains, but failure on the soft-field landing.

3 landings down.

Roll-out to the end of 9, turn around and prepare to depart 27. Chuck wanted another soft-field takeoff but asked me to use my checklist, basically saying that if I have a checklist for something, even if I know what needs to be done, to use it. A point well made and well taken; the DPE will like that. That's one of the fundamentals, right? It did make me wonder if he disapproved of my technique on the previous one, but he didn't critique it at all. I was doing the right things, but obviously I was being a little overwhelmed by new stuff and different stuff and feeling frustrated. I never felt overwhelmed, but in retrospect I think that might have been the case.

After a good soft-field takeoff, we were downwind for 27 when Chuck said that the landing on 27 should be non-standard, but lady's choice for how. I opted for a short-field landing. Full-flaps, slow, steep approach. Again I thought I had accounted for the tailwind but didn't land until 2/3 of the way down the runway, as the side lights changed to red. We stopped in an extremely short distance (good short-field landing except for completely missing the target landing zone!) and had to throttle up to get rolling to the end of 27. I turned around and reviewed the checklist for a short-field takeoff: hold the brakes, no flaps, throttle up, check the gauges, release the brakes, roll to Vx, rocket upward! And thusly was it done.

4 down.

By this time my approaches and landings on 9 were going just fine, so on final my landing light "failed" at Chuck's whim. That was totally awesome! As instantaneously as the light went off, my brain shifted gears and my eyes focused on the red strip at the far end of the runway. I mean, it was really just amazing how that naturally happened. And it perfectly, perfectly demonstrated what I should have been using to judge height and flare point this whole time! Man that was cool, and it was a really good landing, too. Chuck reminded me as we continued the rollout to turn that light back on.

5 down.

At the end of 27 we turned and departed 9 as a standard takeoff. This time around would be a standard landing with no landing light. Despite how fantastically awesome the previous no-light landing was and how enthusiastic I was about doing it that way, I still had trepidation about the trees and my inability thus far to aptly land with the tailwind. But I did what I could do: manage airpseed, manage altitudes, try to land "early"... On final the light went off and while the landing happened long again, it happened just fine and was again a very cool experience.

6 down.

The next two were normal takeoffs and normal landings, one on 9 and the last one on 27. Hmmm, you know, something must be out of order above, because the final departure was on 27, followed by a left turn to the south to head home, so the final landing was on 9. In any case, you get the point: we exhausted the West Point pattern and accomplished the night training, with various styles of landings and takeoffs and with and without the landing light!

After departing FYJ, we crossed the river, got to 2500' and I slowed for slow flight. The stall horn was squealing as I held ~65 mph (clean). A 90-degree turn to the west, and I had to add a little power to keep from losing altitude. A 90-degree turn back to south, again with power management. Approximately south I pulled out the power and pulled back to stall. It was a normal stall recovery with the added experience that the *visual* horizon seemed more obvious as the windscreen full of stars transitioned to a combination of stars and city lights. Given the unreliability of horizons at night, that's not something to rely on, and I was actively checking the instruments to verify attitude and climb/descent rate, but it was neat. Immediately upon establishing a positive climb, I moved on to the power-on stall, which took a good deal of effort to induce and with all those stars and no sense of horizon I was sure we were about to flip over backwards! (Go, little Cessna, go! :) Ha ha ha ha...) Again, the stall recovery was normal and it illustrated that I still need to work on getting a clean break to demonstrate to the DPE.

Getting back to JGG was an adventure. After the slow flight and stalls, I didn't have my bearings for where we were, even with the peninsula spread out before me all lit up. I couldn't immediately tell where I was based on city lights and roads, so I started searching for the beacon. (Turns out the beacon was on this time, thankfully, but that it's kinda hard for me to make out until within ~6 nm or so.) Chuck asked what I was going to do. I said there were two primary options: first, HCM VOR 188 is part of the instrument approach to JGG, and I had HCM tuned in so I dialed in the radial and turned eastward to intercept. Second option, head south, knowing we'd eventually cross the James River, at which point we'd be able to identify the telltale features like curves in the river, Jamestown Island, the power station, etc. After puttering along for a few minutes and still not hitting the 188, which would have sent us right to the airport when we really wanted to be to the west of the airport for a 31 landing, I changed methods with Chuck's approval and went river-hunting. It was not long at all before we found it. I was still looking for the beacon along the water's edge when Chuck knowingly said, "Aha! What's that?" and pointed just off the left of the nose. The ferry docks!

From there, I clicked on the runway lights and got on downwind, where the runway lights were promptly obscured by the treeline. The approach was normal, although I do remember being a little tense about it. Probably on account of the fact that 31 is the less predictable of the two finals at JGG because of the swamp monster; but he would probably be hibernating right now anyway... JGG does have three lit bars that align when you're on the glidepath (APAP?), and so I used those to bring us in for a decent landing.

Discussion:

1. Tailwinds are bad, m'kay: Well, I suppose not necessarily bad, but they definitely require adjustments to the standard landing setup. When possible, I will be avoiding that situation! I believe I proved tonight that despite my efforts to correct the elements that were not working, it still didn't come under control adequately.
   
   And that was such a light tailwind, too! AWOS said calm, but the smoke from the factory was disturbed. That was good proof of why you land into the wind, even when the reports say there's no wind at all! :)


2. Maneuvers at night: Theoretically, maneuvers at night should be quite a lot like maneuvers during the day. On a reasonably clear night, even with no moon, there's still a horizon. Well, let me rephrase: Last night it was clear with no moon and we could pick out the horizon here. Maybe it was as simple as where the stars stopped. Maybe there was a subtle color difference between sky and dark land. But the horizon was there and that was useful for stall recovery. It would have been usable for steep turns and the like as well. For slow-flight turns, with squealing stall warning, airspeed, DG and attitude indicator were my primary inputs.
   
   The obvious difference, however, is the trouble scenario. NTSB reports that the vast majority of accidents happen during maneuvering flight. An emergency at night is more serious since it's so much harder to find a safe landing site. In stark contrast to the night x-c a few weeks back under a full moon, tonight I could barely tell the difference between water and land, let alone pick fields out from trees or even gauge the size of fields. We did the maneuvers last night with caution, with confidence in the plane's performance in the conditions, and to a minimal extent.
   
   Doing night stalls was a valuable experience. I'm glad we did those. I don't think that doing steep turns at night would add much to my skill set or comfort level or whatever. Stalls are always practical to practice, and since the visuals are quite a bit different at night, it was good to do it. In the end, it went to show that the process is the same (naturally!) but that the instruments play a more important role since a horizon may not be available.


3. Landing at night: The number one thing to remember about landing at night is that it follows the exact same procedure as landing during the day. The same procedure. Altitudes are the same. Airspeeds are the same. The pattern is the same. The visual cues are different, especially for runways with no approach path indicators, but it's still the same process.

Self-Assessment: More polish, more practice!

Flying
• Preflight, taxiing, normal takeoff, short/soft-field takeoff: Good.
• Maintaining airspeed, stalls, slow flight (VR/IR), maintain/change attitude/altitude/heading by instruments: Good.
• Recover attitude, altitude, heading by instruments: Acceptable.
• Forced landing: Good, need more practice.
• Forward slip:: Dunno, needs more practice.
• Pattern, normal landing, directional control after landing: Good.
• Crosswind landing: Decent.
• Radio work: Good.
• Short/soft-field landings: Good, need to practice hitting the aim point.
• Night operations: Decent.

Navigating
• ADF: Haven't used it since the intro, needs practice.
• VOR: Good, will get more practice.
• Dead reckoning: Improving but needs practice.

Next: ??? Husband wants to act as DPE for me before I take my checkride, and that's a good idea since I haven't done maneuvers recently and only typically grade myself on altitude. This week we need to do that, and I need to do a phase check with Dan. Then I leave on Saturday to visit a friend in Florida for 5 days, and when I get back 388 will be gone for two weeks. So, I'll start scheduling a DPE for the end of Feb, and plan to do the 3 hours of pre-checkride flights, which will include the remainder of the required instrument time, during the third week of Feb.
Hours logged this flight: 1.8
Hours logged total: 48.5 (42.8 counts toward reqs)
Instrument hours logged this lesson: 0.0
Instrument Hours logged total: 1.7
Take-offs and landings this flight: 8
Take-offs and landings total: 106
PIC (solo) hours total:: 14.7