Weather review was pretty straight-forward. I may not remember the name of exactly which graphical weather product to go to for any specific item, but I'm confident I can find it during preflight in ForeFlight or online.
Navigation was easier than expected. I actually remembered VOR navigation, which is the only type I was a little anxious about. Other than GPS and pilotage, that's what I'd use. I didn't bother reviewing the NDB nav process, and hopefully that won't come back to bite me in the keister.
Maneuvers made me a little anxious. Mentally, mostly, I've got it. When you're in the plane, though, it has to be(come) natural with muscle-memory and innate feel and reactions. It's just a lot to try to visualize and anticipate all at once. The first time around, this stuff was all spread out over a few months. I'm interested to see how much feeling comes back in that first flight. It helps to have flown with Jas during the past years, but being PIC will be a different story.
I have my first flight scheduled for Friday morning. It's a 1982 Cessna 172P (just downloaded the POH) with at least one Garmin 430. The instructor scheduled us in the plane for 2 hours and another hour on the ground. I'm hoping we can do the BFR in this time, but it all depends on the return of the feeling and competence, at least enough to continue solo PIC for practice, calling in Jas or the instructor as needed.
I'm also happy to be doing it during autumn -- beautiful, crisp days with less turbulence, so less distraction from learning!
Wednesday, October 09, 2013
Monday, October 07, 2013
Charts, airspaces, communications, information...
This stuff is coming back pretty quickly... yay! I do have to say, though, that a lot has changed since I first became a certificated private pilot. Yes, reading paper charts is a necessary fundamental for safe flying and navigation. But in the interceding years since last I sat left seat, I've be right seat, an armchair pilot, and a developer for ForeFlight. Digital tools like ForeFlight make it so easy to find out what you need to know.
For instance, one of the things I didn't remember was that the ticks coming out from an airport icon on a chart mean that during business hours, the airport offers services and fuel. Nowadays, I wouldn't look at a sectional to find that out; I'd see the airport on the sectional in ForeFlight and tap it to find out its details, including when it operates, whether it offers fuel (self-serve or by lineman), and so many other things from current METAR to frequencies to airport elevation and pattern altitude and so forth.
I'm not starting a discussion about digital v. paper. All I'm saying is that the information is easily and quickly available at a tap on the iPad. Barring device failure. And backup device failure. :)
Another thing to say about my approach to flying is that I'm a planner. I like to thoroughly debrief every spot along the projected path, all airports along the way, and really try to minimize surprises. That's probably the way of most student and low-time pilots like myself; but the killing zone is on the horizon, and that, I imagine, comes partly from complacency about these kinds of details.
Moving on... Airspaces. Almost everywhere I've ever flown has been Class E, like my primary training homebase of KJGG and now KUZA, or Class D (towered with no radar services), like KPHF. KUZA is a little more interesting since it's under one of Charlotte's Class B shelves. This means from the surface up to 3600' MSL we're in Class E and can fly under VFR rules and choose our own destinies. Once we go above 3600', or head into an inner ring of Charlotte airspace where the floors of the Class B shelves are lower, we must already be in contact with ATC, must have a Mode C transponder (reporting altitude and assigned code), and must follow their directions.
The main thing that's important to VFR pilots are the environmental rules. To participate in a VFR flight, you have to be able to see, and the minimum requirements are 3 statute miles of visibility (think low haze) and the ability to stay clear of clouds by at least 500 feet below, 1000 feet above, and 2000 feet horizontally. For safety.
Class B airspace is reserved for mega busy airports, like Chicago and Atlanta. Class A is used between 18000' MSL up to 60000' MSL (FL180-FL600) and requires an IFR flight plan. Above that, it goes back to Class E, but you usually only find space-faring vehicles there....
There's also a Class G airspace, but that's rare, except to bush pilots in Alaska. The rules there are fewer yet, and almost boil down to common sense. (Update: I think I'm wrong here; abundance of airports just makes it more practical to treat non-controlled airspace on the east coast as all Class E.)
Special airspaces, MOAs, restricted airspaces, ADIZs, ... all on the charts. TFRs change airspaces periodically and must be verified before takeoff. NOTAMs should also be consulted before takeoff, but usually pertain to non-standard airport operations (equipment that's offline, change in traffic pattern, scheduled event altering landing availability, etc).
Moving on.... Communicating. The transponder is what allows radars to find an aircraft. The radar pings, and the transponder responds. Mode C transponders report both the squawk code and altitude, and are required to interact with ATC. When flying VFR (without flight following), the transponder is set to the VFR code of 1200. The transponder will still respond to pings, but ATC will only know that there's somebody out there at that location and altitude; this is helpful for advising any pilot of traffic (you!). Though transponders are nearly ubiquitous, they are not required for VFR operations and so traffic may be out there that ATC can't see and that your in-cockpit traffic advisor (traffic scope, ADS-B) can't alert about. That alone underscores the importance of a VFR pilot maintaining situational awareness and keeping a good scan going.
Other important squawk codes are 7500 (hijack), 7600 (lost communications), and 7700 (mayday). When dialing in a code, it's important to be mindful that these aren't entered accidentally, even for a moment.
Radio communications should be brief, concise and professional. CTAF (common traffic advisory frequency) is published for each non-towered airport, or towered airports when unattended, and is how aircraft in the area coordinate and avoid each other; it's also usually the frequency the pilot would use to activate pilot-controlled lighting for night operations. UNICOM, sometimes the same as CTAF, allows the pilot to talk to someone at the airport for advisories, to request fuel, etc.
Lots of times, the same frequency is used at multiple airports and you'll hear transmissions that are irrelevant. It's important to (1) listen for the location of the other transmissions and (2) remember to include yours. The standard flow for self-announcing via CTAF is "Audience, identification, message (frequently location and intention), audience." For instance, "Rock Hill traffic, Cessna 4321A, 10 miles southwest of the airport inbound for landing runway 20, other traffic please advise, Rock Hill." Proper radio usage also means not "stepping on" other transmissions; only one person should be speaking at a time, so wait until the freq is clear before starting your transmission.
When talking with ATC, you typically hail them and state your identification, then wait for them to get back to you. There's a good chance they're managing other aircraft and may be busy at the moment. "Charlotte approach, Cessna 4321A." This applies at towered airports as well. You need to engage the controller before starting the conversation. This gets a lot more important when flying IFR, so I'm not going to dwell on it here. Also, the flying I expect to do in the near term will not use this, so I'll get more detailed when the time comes.
In case of lost communications, there are some basic troubleshooting steps to take, like verifying the frequency, checking that the headset is plugged in, and trying the alternate transceiver (radio). If all else fails, squawk 7600 and be extra vigilant. For landing in Class D airspace, you'll need to watch the tower for light signals -- this is a good time to reference the signal legend you have on your kneeboard or in ForeFlight.
7700 on the transponder usually goes with 121.5 on the radio (although if already interacting with ATC you'll probably keep these comm settings as they are unless instructed otherwise). 121.5 is the mayday frequency. Distress signals are started with "MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY." Urgent situations start with "PAN-PAN, PAN-PAN, PAN-PAN." The aircraft's ELT (emergency locator transmitter) also broadcasts on 121.5 automatically upon impact. The freq should be checked periodically to make sure your ELT isn't sending false alarms, and there are procedures governing testing the ELT.
Moving on... Information. A/FD. FAR/AIM. NOTAMs. ACs. If not getting it from ForeFlight, faa.gov would be my next resource, especially for NOTAMs and TFRs, and in the air an FSS or UNICOM can be consulted for up-to-date advisories.
Next: Weather! (Thanks to intermittent work with ForeFlight, this part should be quick.) Aircraft performance and weight and balance. Navigation.
For instance, one of the things I didn't remember was that the ticks coming out from an airport icon on a chart mean that during business hours, the airport offers services and fuel. Nowadays, I wouldn't look at a sectional to find that out; I'd see the airport on the sectional in ForeFlight and tap it to find out its details, including when it operates, whether it offers fuel (self-serve or by lineman), and so many other things from current METAR to frequencies to airport elevation and pattern altitude and so forth.
I'm not starting a discussion about digital v. paper. All I'm saying is that the information is easily and quickly available at a tap on the iPad. Barring device failure. And backup device failure. :)
Another thing to say about my approach to flying is that I'm a planner. I like to thoroughly debrief every spot along the projected path, all airports along the way, and really try to minimize surprises. That's probably the way of most student and low-time pilots like myself; but the killing zone is on the horizon, and that, I imagine, comes partly from complacency about these kinds of details.
Moving on... Airspaces. Almost everywhere I've ever flown has been Class E, like my primary training homebase of KJGG and now KUZA, or Class D (towered with no radar services), like KPHF. KUZA is a little more interesting since it's under one of Charlotte's Class B shelves. This means from the surface up to 3600' MSL we're in Class E and can fly under VFR rules and choose our own destinies. Once we go above 3600', or head into an inner ring of Charlotte airspace where the floors of the Class B shelves are lower, we must already be in contact with ATC, must have a Mode C transponder (reporting altitude and assigned code), and must follow their directions.
The main thing that's important to VFR pilots are the environmental rules. To participate in a VFR flight, you have to be able to see, and the minimum requirements are 3 statute miles of visibility (think low haze) and the ability to stay clear of clouds by at least 500 feet below, 1000 feet above, and 2000 feet horizontally. For safety.
Class B airspace is reserved for mega busy airports, like Chicago and Atlanta. Class A is used between 18000' MSL up to 60000' MSL (FL180-FL600) and requires an IFR flight plan. Above that, it goes back to Class E, but you usually only find space-faring vehicles there....
There's also a Class G airspace, but that's rare, except to bush pilots in Alaska. The rules there are fewer yet, and almost boil down to common sense. (Update: I think I'm wrong here; abundance of airports just makes it more practical to treat non-controlled airspace on the east coast as all Class E.)
Special airspaces, MOAs, restricted airspaces, ADIZs, ... all on the charts. TFRs change airspaces periodically and must be verified before takeoff. NOTAMs should also be consulted before takeoff, but usually pertain to non-standard airport operations (equipment that's offline, change in traffic pattern, scheduled event altering landing availability, etc).
Moving on.... Communicating. The transponder is what allows radars to find an aircraft. The radar pings, and the transponder responds. Mode C transponders report both the squawk code and altitude, and are required to interact with ATC. When flying VFR (without flight following), the transponder is set to the VFR code of 1200. The transponder will still respond to pings, but ATC will only know that there's somebody out there at that location and altitude; this is helpful for advising any pilot of traffic (you!). Though transponders are nearly ubiquitous, they are not required for VFR operations and so traffic may be out there that ATC can't see and that your in-cockpit traffic advisor (traffic scope, ADS-B) can't alert about. That alone underscores the importance of a VFR pilot maintaining situational awareness and keeping a good scan going.
Other important squawk codes are 7500 (hijack), 7600 (lost communications), and 7700 (mayday). When dialing in a code, it's important to be mindful that these aren't entered accidentally, even for a moment.
Radio communications should be brief, concise and professional. CTAF (common traffic advisory frequency) is published for each non-towered airport, or towered airports when unattended, and is how aircraft in the area coordinate and avoid each other; it's also usually the frequency the pilot would use to activate pilot-controlled lighting for night operations. UNICOM, sometimes the same as CTAF, allows the pilot to talk to someone at the airport for advisories, to request fuel, etc.
Lots of times, the same frequency is used at multiple airports and you'll hear transmissions that are irrelevant. It's important to (1) listen for the location of the other transmissions and (2) remember to include yours. The standard flow for self-announcing via CTAF is "Audience, identification, message (frequently location and intention), audience." For instance, "Rock Hill traffic, Cessna 4321A, 10 miles southwest of the airport inbound for landing runway 20, other traffic please advise, Rock Hill." Proper radio usage also means not "stepping on" other transmissions; only one person should be speaking at a time, so wait until the freq is clear before starting your transmission.
When talking with ATC, you typically hail them and state your identification, then wait for them to get back to you. There's a good chance they're managing other aircraft and may be busy at the moment. "Charlotte approach, Cessna 4321A." This applies at towered airports as well. You need to engage the controller before starting the conversation. This gets a lot more important when flying IFR, so I'm not going to dwell on it here. Also, the flying I expect to do in the near term will not use this, so I'll get more detailed when the time comes.
In case of lost communications, there are some basic troubleshooting steps to take, like verifying the frequency, checking that the headset is plugged in, and trying the alternate transceiver (radio). If all else fails, squawk 7600 and be extra vigilant. For landing in Class D airspace, you'll need to watch the tower for light signals -- this is a good time to reference the signal legend you have on your kneeboard or in ForeFlight.
7700 on the transponder usually goes with 121.5 on the radio (although if already interacting with ATC you'll probably keep these comm settings as they are unless instructed otherwise). 121.5 is the mayday frequency. Distress signals are started with "MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY." Urgent situations start with "PAN-PAN, PAN-PAN, PAN-PAN." The aircraft's ELT (emergency locator transmitter) also broadcasts on 121.5 automatically upon impact. The freq should be checked periodically to make sure your ELT isn't sending false alarms, and there are procedures governing testing the ELT.
Moving on... Information. A/FD. FAR/AIM. NOTAMs. ACs. If not getting it from ForeFlight, faa.gov would be my next resource, especially for NOTAMs and TFRs, and in the air an FSS or UNICOM can be consulted for up-to-date advisories.
Next: Weather! (Thanks to intermittent work with ForeFlight, this part should be quick.) Aircraft performance and weight and balance. Navigation.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Approaching a stall, maneuvering in flight
The next few textbook sections covered basic forces of flight, control surfaces, center of gravity, aircraft stability, and here we are at stalls.
A stall happens when the wing can no longer produce enough lift to support the aircraft. The reference point for this condition is called the critical angle of attack. It can happen in various situations, but the clearest to consider is the climb, when the wings are inclined and the air flowing over the wings is less. You can easily envision a breaking point when the airflow around the wing is just messy, and that's the stall point. We talk about it as stall speed, because the cockpit instrument that measures the airflow over the wing is the airspeed indicator, and the airflow needs to be at least VS1 (or VS0 with flaps out) to keep from stalling the wing.
The stall speed can change. More weight, loading the airplane with a CG too far forward, and the presence of ice or other irregularities on the wing can increase the stall speed. Use of flaps decreases the stall speed, allowing slower controlled flight.
Two main types of stalls are practiced during flight training: power-on and power-off. A power-on stall happens when you typically have the throttle in, such as during take-off or a climb. Stalls during this phase of flight when lift is disrupted due to a too-high angle of attack (nose too high) or retracting the flaps too early. Power-off stalls happen when the throttle is out, such as during landing, and are actually desired to be the last thing to happen as you touch down -- you've "bled off" all the speed you can, stall and settle the last inch onto the runway.
No matter the type or reason for the stall, the recovery process is the same: nose down and power in. As the airflow over the control surfaces is quickly restored, return to straight-and-level flight and adjust the throttle to an appropriate setting.
Stalls usually give me sweaty palms. I can totally deal with the concepts involved, and in practice I have recovered them and used them upon landing to my advantage. However, it's the potential for an unrecovered stall to progress into a spin that freaks me out. So I suppose that spins give me the sweaty palms, but stalling is the first step in spinning! General recovery process (check POH for detailed recovery): power out, neutral ailerons, opposite rudder, return to straight-and-level flight. At a typical loss of 500 ft per turn, and a turn happening in just 3 seconds, there's no time to consult an emergency checklist.
Okay, moving on to maneuvers. Climb, descend, turn. Points to remember:
When climbing, the aircraft tends to turn left slightly due to things like engine torque and asymmetrical thrust produced by the twist of the propellor blades meeting the angle of attack. Slight right rudder is used to maintain a straight flight path.
When descending without power, glide speed and angle are preeeeeetty important. The POH will indicate the best glide speed for the aircraft. Upon engine out, the first thing on the checklist is to trim for best glide speed (then troubleshoot); this will keep you in the air the longest while you attempt a restart or select a landing site. Best glide speed can be affected by wind, so for once you'd be looking to land with the wind.
When turning, pay attention to load factor. The increased Gs on the wings decreases lift and increases stall speed. To maintain altitude, some back pressure will be needed. Load factor that goes too high can damage the structure; for the normal category aircraft we fly, they're limited to 3.8 positive Gs and 1.52 negative. Also relevant here is the maximum maneuvering speed (VA) published in the POH; it's the max speed at which abrupt control inputs or turbulence can be tolerated by the airplane.
That wraps up the fundamentals of flight. Next up are the practical matters of reading charts and understanding airspaces, followed by radio communications, weather, navigation and flight planning. These next parts should go quickly, thanks to continue to fly with Jas and being involved with ForeFlight....
A stall happens when the wing can no longer produce enough lift to support the aircraft. The reference point for this condition is called the critical angle of attack. It can happen in various situations, but the clearest to consider is the climb, when the wings are inclined and the air flowing over the wings is less. You can easily envision a breaking point when the airflow around the wing is just messy, and that's the stall point. We talk about it as stall speed, because the cockpit instrument that measures the airflow over the wing is the airspeed indicator, and the airflow needs to be at least VS1 (or VS0 with flaps out) to keep from stalling the wing.
The stall speed can change. More weight, loading the airplane with a CG too far forward, and the presence of ice or other irregularities on the wing can increase the stall speed. Use of flaps decreases the stall speed, allowing slower controlled flight.
Two main types of stalls are practiced during flight training: power-on and power-off. A power-on stall happens when you typically have the throttle in, such as during take-off or a climb. Stalls during this phase of flight when lift is disrupted due to a too-high angle of attack (nose too high) or retracting the flaps too early. Power-off stalls happen when the throttle is out, such as during landing, and are actually desired to be the last thing to happen as you touch down -- you've "bled off" all the speed you can, stall and settle the last inch onto the runway.
No matter the type or reason for the stall, the recovery process is the same: nose down and power in. As the airflow over the control surfaces is quickly restored, return to straight-and-level flight and adjust the throttle to an appropriate setting.
Stalls usually give me sweaty palms. I can totally deal with the concepts involved, and in practice I have recovered them and used them upon landing to my advantage. However, it's the potential for an unrecovered stall to progress into a spin that freaks me out. So I suppose that spins give me the sweaty palms, but stalling is the first step in spinning! General recovery process (check POH for detailed recovery): power out, neutral ailerons, opposite rudder, return to straight-and-level flight. At a typical loss of 500 ft per turn, and a turn happening in just 3 seconds, there's no time to consult an emergency checklist.
Okay, moving on to maneuvers. Climb, descend, turn. Points to remember:
When climbing, the aircraft tends to turn left slightly due to things like engine torque and asymmetrical thrust produced by the twist of the propellor blades meeting the angle of attack. Slight right rudder is used to maintain a straight flight path.
When descending without power, glide speed and angle are preeeeeetty important. The POH will indicate the best glide speed for the aircraft. Upon engine out, the first thing on the checklist is to trim for best glide speed (then troubleshoot); this will keep you in the air the longest while you attempt a restart or select a landing site. Best glide speed can be affected by wind, so for once you'd be looking to land with the wind.
When turning, pay attention to load factor. The increased Gs on the wings decreases lift and increases stall speed. To maintain altitude, some back pressure will be needed. Load factor that goes too high can damage the structure; for the normal category aircraft we fly, they're limited to 3.8 positive Gs and 1.52 negative. Also relevant here is the maximum maneuvering speed (VA) published in the POH; it's the max speed at which abrupt control inputs or turbulence can be tolerated by the airplane.
That wraps up the fundamentals of flight. Next up are the practical matters of reading charts and understanding airspaces, followed by radio communications, weather, navigation and flight planning. These next parts should go quickly, thanks to continue to fly with Jas and being involved with ForeFlight....
Gyroscopic instruments
The turn coordinator, attitude indicator (artificial horizon) and heading indicator are based on gyroscopes. Gyroscopes have spinning wheels that maintain their position as their anchoring hardware moves around them. These wheels require some sort of power to spin; the turn coordinator is typically electric, while the other two are vacuum powered. I don't think I ever wondered "why vacuum?" before, but you can probably guess that I did today!
There's either a vacuum force created by design of the system, or a vacuum pump within the system, for these instruments. It sucks air from the intake, through a filter, through tubes and instruments, through a pressure release valve, and then exhausts it. The book doesn't have a diagram, but I'm imagining fins on the gyro wheel to catch the air, like on a water wheel for catching water. As long as the air is flowing, the wheels will be spinning.
Because of precession, or the introduction of error in gyro-based readings due to friction, gyro instruments must be periodically cross-checked and/or recalibrated. Most notorious is the heading indicator, also called the directional gyro or DG, which should be compared to the whiskey compass (magnetic) every 15 minutes or so. The whiskey compass, however, gives temporarily inaccurate readings while turning, accelerating or decelerating and is affected by turbulence as well.
Another direction-relevant complication is variance, or the difference between true north and magnetic north. Instruments are set relative to a magnetic reading, yet charts and publications use a true north reference. Since the magnetic field of the Earth changes from place to place, it's important to know the variance at your location. To give you an idea, the variance along the east coast ranges from roughly 0 degrees west to around 20!
There's either a vacuum force created by design of the system, or a vacuum pump within the system, for these instruments. It sucks air from the intake, through a filter, through tubes and instruments, through a pressure release valve, and then exhausts it. The book doesn't have a diagram, but I'm imagining fins on the gyro wheel to catch the air, like on a water wheel for catching water. As long as the air is flowing, the wheels will be spinning.
Because of precession, or the introduction of error in gyro-based readings due to friction, gyro instruments must be periodically cross-checked and/or recalibrated. Most notorious is the heading indicator, also called the directional gyro or DG, which should be compared to the whiskey compass (magnetic) every 15 minutes or so. The whiskey compass, however, gives temporarily inaccurate readings while turning, accelerating or decelerating and is affected by turbulence as well.
Another direction-relevant complication is variance, or the difference between true north and magnetic north. Instruments are set relative to a magnetic reading, yet charts and publications use a true north reference. Since the magnetic field of the Earth changes from place to place, it's important to know the variance at your location. To give you an idea, the variance along the east coast ranges from roughly 0 degrees west to around 20!
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