Friday, September 9, 2016

I Really Do Fly... Honest

Let's just say that I am busy... really busy.  When presented with the opportunity to fly or write about flying, guess which one wins?  You guessed it - flying.  To date, I have spent 92.2 hours in the Bonanza - 61.4 of them within the past year.  Obviously, I'm not flying as much as I'd prefer. 

I figured I drop by here and talk about the family flight taken back in July.  It is far more interesting than shooting approaches or making a $100 hamburger run, which has been the majority of my flying since this trip. 

I Don't Need No Sleep!

Unlike previous years where our trip where the Banana and the Boy get dropped off at Camp Grandma, a business trip was scheduled right before our flight.  The plan was that I was to get home about 9 pm Saturday night, and we would be off mid-morning on Sunday.   There is a Yiddish expression: "Man makes plans.  G-d laughs."  
My return trip from DCA was quite less than ideal.  Right after arriving at the airport, I watched as a very strong thunderstorm made its way toward the field.  It was a very large system that disrupted pretty much all traffic coming to and from the middle of the East Coast.  As a result of this, my plane was delayed at ORD as they waited for the storm to pass and traffic to normalize.  Ninety minutes or so after we were scheduled to depart, our aircraft lands and taxis to the gate.  Great! 

Or not.  One of the pilots who was to fly us back to ORD timed out, and thus we had to wait on a crew.  Swell.  Two hours later, said crew member arrives and we FINALLY start boarding.  Unfortunately, the ground air conditioner was inoperative and it got pretty steamy in the cabin very quickly.  As we seem to be making final preparations to leave, I hear one of the engines cycling up and down.  This is not good.  Just as I finished sharing this concern with the man sitting next to me, the pilot comes on to announce that they have an engine issue.  The ground crew disconnected the APU before the engine was prepared to accept the load of the generators, which overheated the engine.  Really, Republic (I'll blame them and not United since it was them running the equipment)!?!?!  You do this how many times a day? Fantastic.  

Thirty-five minutes later, and we learn that the issue is resolved and they are awaiting the logbook entries so that they can depart.  "Um, the only thing that I can see happening is that if we are not underway in the next 20 minutes or so, I will time out and will no longer be legal to fly."  Really?  Time now is 10:53 pm Eastern.  

Fortunately, we made it out of there.  After a few more opportunities to practice patience and restraint, I finally got home at 1:30 am.  Sleep... sort of.  

Curse You, "Cold" Front!

I can't really say WHY it was called a cold front.  It would be more accurately described as "only hot as Hell" while the one in front of it was "hotter than Hell."  An "only hot as Hell" front was pushing through, and thus a squall line from north of Milwaukee curving southwest to below St. Louis was working its way through.  I woke up far earlier than I think I needed to and began packing and monitoring the weather situation.  
I really was not amused by what I was seeing, and I really was less impressed with the the thought of driving a total of 13 hours or so this particular day.  As time moved on, it appeared to me that the storm was dissipating over Lake Michigan.  This just might leave us a good enough hole to get through.  I planned to fly over the lake though that hole, over Detroit and Cleveland, and on toward KDUJ.  We'd depart, have a look, and if it it was bad we'd turn back. 

I shared this plan with my wife - something I don't normally do.  However, one can easy see the traps into which I was vulnerable of falling.  I REALLY did not want to drive that long, and if I"m going to go out there and have a look then there is pressure to soldier on into deteriorating and dangerous conditions.  I said, "pay attention, and if I start getting bull headed remind me that I said that I was going back rather than taking a chance."  

A Mostly Nice Trip

After arriving at the airport, speaking with a weather briefer about my plan, and loading up the Bonanza, we took off in the most unusual direction of north.  Typically when going toward Northern Ohio and Pennsylvania, I'd head south to southeast around the lake.  I was also taught that it was a very bad idea to fly a single engine plane over water when one is out of glide distance.  Since I was going to violate that teaching today, I provided a very careful brief about how to get out of the plane in the event that quick egress was required.  A note to self and others: this does more to increase anxiety than anything else. 

As you can see from the picture below, the sky opened up and the trip was conducted almost exclusively in VMC.
The skies open up!
 Although this screen shot shows a fairly old radar picture, it was only somewhat more narrow than it is shown on this map.  Also, let's just say that I'm very happy that we were going east.  Behold, most GLORIOUS tailwinds at 9000:

Displaying Image-1.png
That's like 253 miles per hour!
On a TAS of 160, this ground speed is fantastic.  This means that I made it from DuPage (KDPA) to DuBois (KDUJ) in about 2.5 hours - including flying north to just before Milwaukee's Charlie to KMKG, getting vectored around Detroit, and finally on to our destination.  This was a hit amongst the family.   

What was not so popular was the increasing heat and rather unpleasant up-and down-drafts as we were on approach to DUJ.  My poor son became airsick as my family took the most bumpy ride they have ever had in a small airplane.  Fortunately, there are provisions for such things in the airplane for such occasions.  

Before moving on, I must tell a story on the ground crew at DuBois.  As we were unloading, an airport worker came speeding toward us in his golf cart to ask us about fuel.  I usually take on fuel, and made that request.  "Well, that's what I was coming up here to tell you about.  See, we don't have no fuel and we won't have any for a few more days." 

"Was there a NOTAM?"  (I had not seen one, but it could have gone up after we departed). 

"Naw, our computer that we do that on is down." 

"So, you could call Lockheed." 

This was aggravating.  Fortunately, between the engine analyzer we had installed at annual and my keep meticulous track of time on each tank, I was able to determine that we had plenty of fuel to make it to our final destination.  However, this could have been a real problem as the V-tail Bonanza has a placarded limitation about taking off with less than a certain amount of fuel in each tank. 

My wife and I were in a hurry, and she was also not feeling terribly well after that hot and bumpy approach.  After stretching and taking care of some pilot and passenger comfort, Mrs. Dr. Flying Shrink and I again departed and turned toward Queen City/Allentown (KXLL) to see our friends.  

Can You Hear Me Now?

All was progressing just fine until about I switched over to talk to Harrisburg approach.  Suddenly, I could hear them but they could not hear me very well.  I was yelling just to send a loud enough signal.  Not cool.  We landed at KXLL - much to the relief of Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink and her uneasy stomach - but no one heard me coming in.  It explained why an aircraft took the runway while I was on a mile final. 

We unloaded and were taken to our friends' home, just five minutes before dinner was served and the wine began to flow.  I had taken on what felt like on of the most challenging flights of my flying career, and comfortably lived to tell about it.  Fatigue, some pressure to complete the mission quickly and in the most efficient way possible, weather, sick passengers, and radio problems all affected this flight - and quite honestly, I was pooped.  

The next day, I went out to the field to figure out what was wrong with my radio.  My plane was towed into the shop.  While I was waiting, I updated the GPS database and decided to test those radios ago.  They worked.  I changed to my usual headset, and it worked as well.  WTF?  Let's just say that after flying later in the week to Virginia (KOKV - Winchester Regional) for a few day couple-oriented vacation as well as flying back to KDPA, I learned that the problem had to be an intermittent short in my headset.  We'll see if the warranty will take care of this problem.

The Rest...

As mentioned, Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink and I took the hour flight down to KOKV for a bit of exploration of the Shenandoah Valley.  I expected a relatively straight shot, but instead I was sent almost all the way to Dulles (KIAD).  But it was an otherwise routine flight.  

On the return trip to KDUJ from KOKV, we had very strong thunderstorms moving southeast over Johnstown, so again we had to do some creative avoidance to get to our destination.  The next day, we were back to KDPA with plenty of cloud time and a race against more thunderstorms.  


As I mentioned above, I was quite tired when I undertook the flight from KDPA to KDUJ and then on to KXLL.  I was quite aware of the internal and external pressure I felt to take the flight and complete it, but believe I mitigated this by making certain promises to myself and sharing them with my wife - who would talk me out of my tendency to believe everything will work out OK.  My real concern is why I did not really appreciate what it might mean that Harrisburg could not hear me, and thus why I didn't try to do something about it.  I suspect that it had something to do with my increasing fatigue level.  

I am reasonably sure that I would not have taken this trip hard IFR - even with our reasonable autopilot - because I was just not up to it.  11.7 hours in the logbook, a new state (Virginia), and a few new experiences (e.g., flying over open water).  Nice.  

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Tower?!? Umm... Ok.

The downside of having only three partners in an airplane is that it is often hard to align schedules so that I can work on IFR proficiency and currency.  Recently, the stars aligned and one of my partners was able to go up for awhile.  On the particular day, the weather created some pressures.  A cold front was expected to bring through some thunderstorms, and this limited our options.  The entire day was marked by marginal VFR to IFR weather due to low ceilings.  Awesome - REAL IMC. 

I checked over all the weather and other pertinent information, including NOTAMS for where we were going to go... I thought.  The plan was that I would make the very short flight from KDPA to KLOT (Lewis University) to pick him up, then we would fly to Lake in the Hills (3CK) to return some keys to the shop that worked on our plane, and then we would determine things from there.

Say What? 

Even at a quite reduced power setting, Lewis University is just about 10 minutes away.  Because the ceilings required flying an instrument approach, I had set everything up on the ground at DuPage in order to reduce my workload in flight.  Everything checks out, and eventually I am cleared for departure on runway 10.  After switching to approach, I immediately informed the controller that I wanted to fly the RNAV 20 approach and was cleared direct BEPKE.  If one were to look and notice that the DPA VOR is 5 miles west of the DuPage airport, you'd see how fast this all happened. 

Cleared for the approach, and get myself established inbound.  Still in the clouds, I receive the most odd instruction.  "Bonanza 2458A, contact Lockport Tower now on 120.3."  My head froze for just a second - TOWER?!?!  What bloody tower are they talking about?  Lewis is an uncontrolled field!  Of course, I didn't dispute this with the controller.  I simply acknowledged the instruction like I was expecting it, tuned the unexpected frequency, and called up this tower as if someone would answer me.

And they did.  Alright, then.  I was cleared to land and had a smooth touchdown.  On final, I noticed an awful lot of biz jets on the ramp.

"58A, contact ground now."

"Contact ground - could you remind me of the frequency, please?"

They did, and I taxied to the ramp without further incident.  But what happened here?  Turns out that I SAW the NOTAM.  I READ the NOTAM.  But that this NOTAM applied to my flight TODAY did not register in my head.  Turns out that there was a NASCAR race in Joliet, and a temporary tower and Class D airspace was established around KLOT - guess all that extra business jet traffic required some extra TLC... or ATC if you prefer.  I'm very glad that it was a very marginal VFR to IFR day if for no other reason than I didn't bust airspace that I would not have known existed.  I'd have made all my happy radio calls on CTAF and wondering why it was so quiet at an airport with a university aviation program.  Then I'd have gotten that number to call.

A Few More Flights

I picked up my friend from Lewis, and we agreed that we would go ahead and fly up to Lake in the Hills a relatively short distance away to return these keys we somehow acquired and plan from there.  The flight up was almost entirely IMC, which made me quite happy.  However, as I was getting established on the RNAV 8 approach (to circle to 26) I was issued a descent.  Instead of hitting the yoke button to disconnect the altitude hold, I disconnected the autopilot.  In about 15 seconds, I noticed that we were in a descending turn to the left and accelerating.  I had a flash where I thought - well this is just how fast it would happen.  I corrected and got set back up on course in a more usual and customary attitude.  The rest of the approach and landing came off without incident.  

After reviewing the weather, I decided that it made the most sense to return to Lewis since the thunderstorm was about 80 miles or so away.  We filed, hopped in the plane, and were on our way back. Nice and smooth but again a lot of IMC.  

After arrival at Lewis, my friend hopped out and I returned back to DuPage.  I somehow got myself off frequency, so I sat for 10 minutes waiting for a clearance while ground control tried to talk to me.  Oops.  Got ahead of myself getting set up.  Soon, I was back on my way with a take off on Runway 2 and an immediate left turn to 270.  As I came on frequency, I had been cleared to Bomer Intersection on the ILS 2L approach at the same time I was handed off.   When I checked on, the controller just said I should fly a heading "for now."  I could hear I was number three for the approach, and then a Medivac came up and took priority.  This left me and the second aircraft being vectored around a bit while the Medivac got established inbound.  

At this point, I am in solid IMC complete with dark black clouds and a NEXRAD image 15 miles away that made me shutter.  The controller issues me a left turn of about 220 degrees in order to vector me onto the approach.  He apologized about the delay, and I acknowledged but did voice my desire to stay away from the thunderstorms.  I flew  nice path down the localizer but was a bit high.  I have not yet gotten the hang of flying the Bonanza on an approach.  Supposedly if I am all trimmed out for 105 knots and I drop the gear at the FAF, I should only have to make small power adjustments to keep on glidepath.  Yeah... well, the Bonanza is a slipper lady and I have work to do here.  

Touchdown, taxi, and self-serve fueling all occurred without incident or rain drops.  The skies opened about 10 minutes after I shut the hanger door.  Sweet.  


As you can see, one of the things that prompted me to write this up was that I somehow managed to completely miss that I had a major NOTAM that applied to me.  It's not like I was getting there and finding out a taxiway was closed and I'd need to adapt.  This one would have resulted in an uncomfortable phone call at least.  I learned here that my discipline about fully considering NOTAMs needs to be improved.  

Another major issue for me is that I know I need to focus on hand flying in simulated instrument conditions.  I was not happy about how much I used the autopilot during this flight.  However, several things have contributed to me feeling less proficient.  First, I did not do much instrument flying during the time I was training for my commercial certificate.  Second, I am transitioning to full steam gauges from an Aspen panel.  Third, the Bonanza is a lot less stable than the Arrow and can therefore get squirrely much more quickly.   Not only am I out of practice, but I am also needing a wider and more focused scan to capture the six pack as well as the navigational information that I need.  I really need practice on this.  In fairness to myself, I did hand fly the final approach course on three of the four approaches I flew (not the first since I knew I was going to be overloaded) and did so reasonably well. 

On a related note, I need to be careful about what buttons I'm actually punching.  I accidentally disconnected the autopilot and found myself in the early stages of an unusual attitude. Fortunately I caught it very early and corrected.  I do not think that the deviations from level descending flight would have occurred had I known what I did as I would not have over-focused on altitude and power.    

But it was still a good day to fly and left me feeling a bit more confident in this airplane.  I've not moved my personal minimums as a result of this flight, but I am more comfortable that I have them set in the proper fairly conservative place for now.   

Saturday, August 8, 2015

It was Bound to Happen...

I have been dragging my feet about writing this post.  I wanted to write about my first major trip in the "new" Bonanza, but I just can't.  Not yet. 

Minding my Own Business at the Range

On the afternoon of July 3, I was at my local driving range hitting golf balls for the first time in years.  I have not played a round of golf since shortly after my son was born eight years ago, and a few years ago my wife gave me a gift card in order to entice me to a cheaper hobby.  I had been there for about an hour, and pulled my phone out to take a picture and post a snarky Facebook comment about not having lost my ability to slice it fifty yards off course.  
As I opened my Facebook app, I noticed the following image and news story posted in a local aviation forum:

Small plane crashes in Bartlett
Taken from - Click here to view story

I saw the story of a single-engine plane crashing in a forest preserve in Bartlett, Illinois, which is located about five miles north of the airport out of which I fly (KDPA).  My first response was that it was just awful to lose another fellow aviator, and to start to anticipate the questions that I was no doubt going to be asked by friends.  That didn't last long.  

That Uneasy Feeling

The news of the above distracted me from my original purpose for opening Facebook in the first place, and I returned to hitting golf balls.  After a few swings, my mind started to wander back to this image above and it stopped me in my tracks.  If one looks very closely, one can tell that this was probably a white Skyhawk, and very close examination reveals parts of the tail number that could have belonged to my flying club.  Was this N62681?  A flurry of text messages with three fellow officers began immediately in order to mobilize and gather information.  
It was.  I will confess now that given that I am an officer in the flying club I know a lot more about what probably happened than is publicly available, but I will be sticking to what anyone could learn from the NTSB and media at this time.

The Short Version

The private pilot departed KDPA and conducted some practice landings at nearby Schaumburg airport (06C).  Upon return to DuPage, he called up the tower and stated that he was having a "rudder problem."  The aircraft disappeared from radar and radio communication could not be established, and eventually the aircraft was found in a nearby forest preserve after having impacted the terrain in a nose- and left-wing-down attitude.  The pilot was killed as a result of injuries he sustained in the crash.  

You can listen to the ATC recording here, and the preliminary report from the NTSB can be found here.  

When the probable cause report is released, I will say more about the above.  At this point, I will refrain from adding any information not reported or suggesting any causes of this accident.  I will say that upon learning that it was in fact our plane, I headed out to the scene.  For the one and only time I can remember, I was thankful that Friday traffic kept me from getting where I wanted to go in any reasonable amount of time.  By the time I reached the scene, our club president had essentially answered all the investigator's questions and there was nothing else for the club to do.   I never saw the accident scene in person, and instead we met at a local Buffalo Wild Wings for food and a few beers instead.  

Risks Become Real

If we are honest with ourselves, we really do not like to think about the reality that this kind of thing can happen to us. We never expect to be highlighted on the evening news or an NTSB report.  But the uncomfortable truth is that it does happen, and it can happen to any of us.  We have to maintain enough awareness of this so that we remain vigilant and sharp so that we do our part to avoid the headlines.  We need to work to eliminate the number one cause of aircraft accidents: pilots. 

In this case, we are talking about a plane that I have flown.  Without looking in the logbook, I'd speculate that I have roughly eight or nine hours in this plane.  While I never did a formal write up, I did reference this plane as the one I took on my at that time longest cross-country flight from  KDPA to Burke Lakefront in Cleveland.  I also rode right seat in it a month or two before to go and pick up our club Arrow from maintenance.  I really did not like this plane and as it approached TBO believed that the club would be better off selling it.  This was not the way for her to go.  

I was also scheduled to go flying the next morning with my friend to fly the Bonanza for a few more hours before I could carry passengers, and I wanted to work on flying instruments with steam gauges.  As you might imagine, Mrs. Dr. Flying Shrink was not too keen on this given what had just happened.  I anticipated this, and simply stayed home that day.  It brought the reality of what can happen to the forefront.  

Finally, I'd be remiss not to point out that this is the first time I have known a pilot killed in a plane crash.  I had not had very many interactions with this particular man, so it's not like we were flying buddies or anything.  I think that this is what hit me the hardest, though.  Yes, death is a fact of life and we accept a small increase in risk when we choose to be pilots.  When the person killed is someone you know, it takes the "out there" and makes it "in here."  Under such conditions, it is far harder to avoid unpleasant existential realities.  This incident has certainly sparked some reflection amongst my fellow club members, and this is a very good thing.  I just wish it did not take such drastic circumstances to spur such honest reflection so that we can do our part to reduce our flying risks.  

Blue Skies, fellow aviator.  And fly safe, my friends. 

Friday, June 12, 2015


Milestone: a term we use to connote an accomplishment or passage of some significant event or marker.  Recently, I had two such happenings that seem worth sharing. 

Call me "Captain."

If you've been reading anything my posts in the last year, then you know that I have been working on my commercial certificate.  The logbook entry from June 2, 2015 says that I successfully completed the commercial practical test.  It was a doozy!  

We actually conducted the oral examination on the Saturday prior, but the weather was not going to permit any VFR flying.  Great instrument day, and I really wished I could go out and shoot approaches.  It would have honestly been more fun as I can say I was not as well prepared for this thing as I thought I was.  My previous experiences with check rides were that I presented myself fairly well, knew things pretty well, learned a few things that I didn't know, and the like.  This time, the ante had been seriously raised and I did not totally appreciate that.  

When my examiner put in his instructions that he was expecting a presentation, I think he may have literally meant a powerpoint or something.  I did use the PAVE model to formulate my discussion of the flight I was asked to prepare, but some of the things I needed to talk about I did not for two reasons.  First, I got nervous and just forgot to talk about some things such safety equipment and terrain over the flight path.  Second, I had in my head that this flight would really go off IFR since it was pretty much IMC for most of the projected flight I did not discuss things like flight plans and flight following - I mean, if it's an IFR flight those things come with the package.  I also think that because I have expressed interest in pursuing the CFI, the examiner was giving me some push for my edification.  It became hard for me to know where was I not doing well as a commercial applicant and where was I being shown I had work to do for CFI.  

Sometimes it was just packaging and I could tell that.  For example, we discussed my chosen altitude.  I explained my reasoning, which can be (and from his view should have been) encapsulated in legality, safety and efficiency - in that order.  I'd argue that I caught all of those things but didn't quite say it that way. 

Needless to say, I was very happy that I was not going to fly on Saturday.  I was not feeling good about my performance, and I was pretty tired.  The examiner and I agreed on Friday as the day to fly.  

After I got home, I looked over the weather and things did not look good for Friday.  The plane became available on Tuesday, and we negotiated an earlier day to fly.  It was a beautiful day.  

The schedule was pretty tight because I needed to drop my kids off at school at 9, drive 75 minutes to the airport, preflight and fly to meet the examiner all by 11 am.  The examiner wanted to start earlier as he had a phone meeting at 1 pm, but I really could not get there much earlier.  Making matters worse, KDPA was full of NOTAMed taxiway and runway closures.  I ended up with a nearly 2 mile taxi and wanting for 15 minutes after announcing ready to depart.  

I made best speed to KUGN in the Arrow (25 squared, baby) and cut as close to ORD as the airspace and my low altitude tolerance would allow.  Three miles out I was cleared to land runway 5.  From 2500 feet and 130 KIAS, I pulled power to 15 inches, dropped the gear once below Vlo, ran the pre-landing flow and BAL-GUMPS checklist (boost pump on; autopilot off, landing light on; and the usual GUMPS features... and you know, Gear down, Undercarriage down, Make sure the gear is down, Put the gear down, See if the gear is down).  I then started applying flaps once below Vfe.  At three-quarters of a mile I was on airspeed and on glide slope - and was rewarded with touchdown on the 500 foot markers as planned.  "LIKE A GLOVE!" 

I shut down and deplaned, and the examiner met me on the ramp.  We looked the plane over, he asked a few questions to make sure I knew what those scoops and such were, and we got ready to go.  My inner Ace Ventura was silenced as the damn plane would not start.  "Isn't there a hot-start procedure for this plane?"  Yes, yes there is.  It's essentially the same as the typical one and we got the POH out to have a look.  After a solid 8 minutes of trying to start the plane, it FINALLY fired up.  Not a good start..... 

As expected, the flight began with demonstrating that I could use pilotage and ded reckoning.  This went well as I was pretty much on course and on time... despite the fact that I almost NEVER do this with any precision.  I follow the charts along my course line, but I don't do much ded reckoning.  Confidence returning. 

Next we went through several of the maneuvers.  Steep turns were fine once I stopped losing altitude.  I didn't bust PTS, but I was on the margin.  Slow flight and stalls went well.  Chandelles were nice.  Lazy Eights - my nemesis - were passable.  I was a bit high and fast (how the hell does that combination happen, anyway) on my last 180, but still within limits.  Emergency descent was good, steep spiral was nice.  I was just recovering from the steep spiral at 1400 feet AGL when the examiner decided that this was the time for an engine failure.  Sigh.  Well, I took a bit longer to get with it than I had hoped, and turned in to land too quickly.  Without enough time to circle back, I called an audible and said that I'd land in the field ahead of me, dropped the gear and flaps, and slipped to demonstrate that I could do that.  I said how I'd secure the aircraft, and then said, "well, I'd like to go around any time."  

Lastly were performance landings.  My heart sunk as the examiner said that we should go to Westosha (5K6) to do a short field landing.  I HATE this airport.  The approach sucks in either direction (over trees to runway 3, and over a drop off for 21), the runway is like 38 feet wide, and is chewed up.  Did I mention pattern altitude is like 650 feet AGL?  I bounced hard and went around.  He asked me what happened, and I said that I was never stabilized and should have gone around sooner.  Second attempt went just fine.  Relief.  

Back to Waukegan to finish up performance landings.  A solid soft-field landing and take off, then the moment of truth.  The dreaded 180-degree power-off landing.  For the uninitiated, this maneuver requires cutting the power on downwind abeam the agreed-upon target and gliding it onto that spot... +200/-0 feet.  The Arrow has the glide ratio of a truck, though I have practiced this many times and usually get it right.  This day, I flared at the right spot and then ballooned on flare.  I still got it there, but not in a pretty way.  

Checkride passed.  Temporary Commercial certificate issued.  Sweet. 

Mom, You're Going to be a Grandmother... Again.

There comes a time in every aviator's life where he figures out that what he wants cannot be had without drastic measures.  I have been salivating over the thought of co-owing an airplane, and driving my wife crazy with such discussions.  
I really love my flying club.  Fox Flying Club is a great group of aviators with four really nice planes.  Ok, I have decided I hate Skyhawks but there are two nice Pipers from which to choose.  And honestly, almost all missions that I fly are adequately accomplished in any of our aircraft.  But not all.  Sometimes, I need a plane that goes faster or a plane that has a better useful load.  We were working on a program where a Bonanza became available on leaseback, but this took a lot of work and eventually fell through. 

Then a few months ago I went to breakfast with a man who owns a Bonanza and a club instructor with whom I needed to fly for my semi-annual checkout.  Turns out the instructor and another man were talking about partnering in a Bonanza, and I got interested.  So did the owner referenced above.  The short version is that the four of us have partnered in the V35A Bonanza that the first guy owns.  

"Mom, you're going to be a grandmother again." 


"Yeah, but not in the way that you think."  

"Explain, please."  

"You have a grand-plane."  ;-)

Hi, Grandma!!!

N2458A is a Beechcraft V35A.  Yes, a Vee-tail and it's immaculate.  The good thing is that one of the partners has owned the plane for the last 18 months, and we therefore know it's most recent history.  He did an amazing job searching down information and making sure that what he purchased was solid.  Thus, we all feel pretty confident that we probably don't have too many big, expensive surprises waiting for it.  Yeah, can happen and it sucks to split that bill four ways instead of 60 ways. 

I am stoked, but the transition training is going slower than I'd like.  I have completed the online portion of the Beechcraft Pilot Proficiency Program, but I have not gotten much time in the plane yet.  We need to have the dual yoke we rented installed so that we can take instruction in the plane, and then one of the partners will get me going with a high performance endorsement and initial transition training.  I'll then make an appointment with the Bonanza-Sensei up at Poplar Grove (C77) to do the flying portion of the BPPP.  

But overall, this is sweet.  One of the partners took the plane to the east coast this past week, and made it from the western suburbs of Chicago to Frederick, Maryland in just under 3.5 hours.  Nice! 

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Where are you?

Busy.  That's where I am.  I will have more to say, but life has just been nuts and of course writing about flying has not taken the highest priority. 

Almost done with that commercial certificate - just trying to make those lazy 8s work out.  I think I've figured out what I'm doing wrong, but I have not had the chance to go up and try out my theories. 

Finally, I finally flew some instrument approaches.  Two hours of actual and three approaches showed me what happens when your proficiency decreases.  I need to fly more approaches...

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Landing on a Cloud that Flies?

Recently, I was able to accomplish the long cross country required for the commercial certificate.  It was a LONG day. 

As a reminder, this requirement means that you must be the only occupant of the airplane, that you land at a minimum of three points, and that there be at least 250 nautical miles separating two of those three points.  Of course, when one is actually going somewhere would be the best time to accomplish these tasks, but alas that was not to be for me. 

My trip for the day included a flight to Flying Cloud Airport in Minneapolis, Minnesota (KFCM), a return to Rochelle, IL (KRPJ) and then finally back to home base at DuPage (KDPA).  On the day of the flight, an AIRMET-T was issued for turbulence below about FL010 until about 50 miles west of my departure airport.  To make matters more interesting, the headwinds were out of the west at a solid 40 knots.  FUN!

To Flying Cloud

I took off from DuPage in VMC but on an IFR flight plan.  It was VERY cold that day, so I had no intention of spending much time in the clouds if I could avoid it.  Because the headwinds were a solid 20 knots faster 2000 feet higher, I filed for 4000 for the trip to Minneapolis.  In retrospect, I'm not sure I gained much.  That AIRMET should have extended to just short of the border of Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota, and the bumps were so big that I slowed to maneuvering speed.  I think that climbing and taking the additional headwinds would have been a wash with respect to ground speed, but far more pleasant a trip.  

The views of course were beautiful as I approached the Mississippi River:

These views never get old.  However, they do come close when your ground speed barely breaks 90 knots on a TAS of 120.  Just saying.  

As expected, Flying Cloud was severe clear and very cold.  I was initially cleared to land on 20L, but then was switched to 20R.  Turned out that 20R had a bit of ice and such on it, but I had a nice smooth landing just past the numbers (as expected).  Reminded myself to stay off the breaks and slowly increase elevator pressure to break.  

Total flight time: 3 hours and 25 minutes.  No wind time would have been 2 hours 15 minutes.  Sigh.  

Bet They're Not Jumping Today

I initially planned to park the plane and head to nearby Punch Pizza, a favorite of me and my psychology department colleagues for their AWESOME wood-fired pizza.  It's really my favorite place to get pizza, but time was ticking.  Instead, I taxied back to 20R and picked up my clearance to Rochelle.  I was off shortly thereafter and on my way to more enjoyable flight conditions and a rockin' ground speed.  

As you can see from the Aspen panel, level at 7000 at 65% power settings, I had a true airspeed of 135 and a ground speed of 170.  It hit 181 at one point with no intervention from me.  This was much more like it, and sort of made me feel better about my trip up. 

When I find myself off doing these kinds of things, I usually try to land at new places.  However, I have been to Rochelle a number of times as the Flight Deck is a favorite $100 hamburger stop for members of my flying club.  I needed to stop by as they were kind enough to donate a gift card for our flying club's holiday party raffle.  They have quite a large skydiving operation on the field, and I started to plan a strategy for dealing with this given that I was going to be landing on 25.  It would have been a beautiful day for skydiving... except that it was about 10 degrees outside.

I doubt they are jumping today.  A pretty quiet CTAF supported my conclusion.  A smooth landing and taxi over to the ramp. 

By the time I shut down the engine, I had been in the plane for about 5 hours and 45 minutes or so.  I was so ready to stand.  I got out of the plane and stretched, and then "Oh, crap!  That's cold!!!."  I was not happy about the walk over to the Flight Deck, but a kind man from the FBO drove me over there in a very warm car.

I was getting hungry, but it was also getting late.  This stop took longer than expected as there was a communication SNAFU that needed to be resolved.

Back to Base... in the Dark

By the time I was ready to return to DuPage, the sun had set and it was getting dark.  I back taxied to 25 and blasted off for home.  Although not exactly smooth, the worst of the bumps had died off.  Given that the short distance and KORD's Bravo airspace demanded a cruising altitude of 3000, I was grateful for that.  I dialed up DeKalb traffic as I would be passing just south of the field, and it was a good thing as it was a pretty busy pattern.  There were two planes departing and two more in the pattern when I went by.  I had to do some maneuvering as it seemed that at least one of those two departing aircraft was going to hit me.  One of them ended up behind me and I could no longer see it, which honestly was a bit unnerving because he seemed to be going the same direction and had one more engine than me.  That is unnerving, and I could not see him on Foreflight/Stratus either.  

I approached DPA and was cleared to land on 28, and I executed a very nice landing.  Couldn't really ask for better.  And since it was after dark, I could take a night landing.  Since I needed one more at a controlled airport this worked out well.  

Total flight time today: 6.3 hours.  Miles flown?  Roughly 580.  

Lessons and Training Status

I think the first lesson learned is that when things are pretty bumpy, it might be worth it to go ahead and request a climb for smoother air.  The trade offs might be worth it.  In this case, my need to slow to maneuvering speed may have made the difference in ground speed due to stronger headwinds at higher altitudes a wash.  I certainly would have been less tired from the bumps.  
Second, maybe it was not the best day for this flight.  I had a bit of "git 'er done-itis," and while that really didn't compromise safety in this case it did affect my comfort and a need to abort plans for a nice lunch.  I need to pay attention to this for when safety does matter.  

Finally, it's good to keep track of the fuel burn.  I was confident that I could make it on full tanks, and found myself marking where I was in my tank switching.  Upon landing, I figured I burned about 54 gallons.  Fuel truck to tabs plus the remaining capacity was 54.8.  Not bad.  

Not so much a lesson, but flying a plane without traffic really stinks.  I really don't understand why the FAA will not give any pilot with a portable ADS-B solution access to traffic information.  It is STUPID.  No, having that on board does not really absolve the pilot of see-and-avoid responsibility.  But it sure would help to have that information in those situations where the traffic has moved behind you. and improve situational awareness.  I sure would like more available to me than "I pray that guy sees me!"  

As for training toward the commercial, I'm getting close.  Updating from a few posts ago:

So, what's left?
- Tighten up all maneuvers
- Day VFR XC with instructor on board (at least 100 miles between two landing points)
- Night VFR XC with instructor on board (at least 100 miles between two landing points)
- Long solo XC as detailed above.  Sigh.  Would have been nice to knock that out last weekend.  
- 1 more solo night landing at a controlled field.  
- Study for the oral. 

Given the weather, I'm not sure that I can wrap this up before year's end.  It would be challenging.  However, I have made significant progress in some of the hardest maneuvers: Eights on Pylons, Lazy 8's and Chandelles are all to PTS or pretty darn close.  Steep spirals are close.  Stalls are all fine.  Need to tune steep turns, I think.  I tend to lose some altitude as I figure out just how much power to add.  Performance maneuvers are all pretty good.  I need to go fly the Arrow some more to tighten them up - particularly the 180-degree power-off accuracy landing.  

Soon, very soon.  

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Getting Some Cloud Time

Yesterday I actually got out to do a little flying in actual instrument conditions.  As Ms. Dr. Flying Shrink will tell you, this makes me giddy. I was definitely happy to get some time in a soup warm enough in which to fly before our long and no-doubt cold winter sets in. 

I was scheduled to take our club's Arrow out for a stroll, but unfortunately it remains down for the annual inspection that seems like it will never end.  I guess this is the joy of the club having an older plane that seems to need some TLC. It's gotten a lot of love, and so it should be leveling out soon.  I'm told that one can spend a year or two with undetected gremlins.  I was going to scrap the whole thing, but cloud time sent me to the schedule to find that our very capable Archer was available. 

I blasted off from DuPage (KDPA) around 10:45 into marginal VFR conditions, and before long was chugging along in the clag at 3000 until I was clear of O'Hare's arrival stream.  Up to 6000 and eventually heading toward Illinois Valley (KVYS), I continued to run mostly into and occasionally out of clouds.  I briefed the RNAV 18 approach and made said request to Chicago Center (nice to have those folks back up and running).  I allowed the auto-pilot to do its work while I briefed and set up, and then took over hand flying as I arrived at the initial approach fix.  I kept the needles relatively pegged the whole way down to the minimum descent altitude (despite having vertical guidance, this was an LNAV+V approach and therefore non-precision).  Sweet.

Although I had the runway clearly in sight, I executed the published missed as communicated to Center.  Flying the missed approach gave me the chance to enter a hold that conveniently served as the procedure turn for the RNAV 36 back in.  Two currency birds with one stone. 

While flying the missed, there was a helicopter on approach to 36 and then some other traffic, so I was sent to 5000 MSL despite a holding pattern of 2500.  That made things "fun" later.  While I got myself turned around and fully prepared to do a few laps around the holding pattern, I was instructed to descend and start inbound.  This gave me about 6 miles to get down 2800 feet, but since the Archer flies like a rock that was not too much of a problem.  I don't like idle descents, and fortunately this was avoided. 

I was again on my way inbound and the needles were pretty close to pegged.  Breaking out about 1500 feet AGL, I went ahead and executed the dreaded downwind landing (5 knot wind) as sometimes you just don't get a choice, and these are of course different.  Landing at 75 knots ground speed verses 60 is quite a difference in picture and performance.

After taxiing to the ramp, I attempted to call Chicago Center and Kankakee Radio to obtain my IFR clearance back to DuPage.  After no success, I elected to take off and obtain my clearance in the air. I was about to regret that. 

An Expensive Lesson

I departed 18 and headed south since there were rain showers directly to the east that didn't look like fun trying to punch through VFR.  I called up Chicago center, and after making radar contact asked me if I could maintain visibility and avoid hitting anything until I was at or above 3000.  


Yeah, so that's the wrong answer.  Turns out that this whole blasting off without an instrument clearance in marginal conditions - or at least with ceilings below the minimum vectoring altitude - will result in hanging one's cowl in shame as he returns to the airport.  I don't recall learning that at any point in my instrument training; only that one had to be able to fly VFR or out of controlled airspace and obtain a clearance before entering controlled airspace or IMC.  

I wonder if I had a growl in my voice as I announced my positions in the pattern.  

After I returned and taxiied to the ramp, I called up IFR Clearance Delivery.  I spent about 10 minutes on the phone with them - 7 of that was on hold.  Don't they know the hobbs meter is running?  This is one of two reasons why I don't like calling on the ground.  The other is waiting for release when someone has not cancelled IFR. 

Return Trip

With clearance now firmly in hand, I again took off from VYS and turned on course toward PLANO.  It was a different controller on the Center frequency, so I was glad that I could avoid reliving my embarrassment.  Motoring along at 5000, I took a few pics of my view out the wind screen.

Somewhere over Ottawa, Illinois

Conditions were very marginal at DPA due to low ceilings and light rain, and I was vectored for the ILS 10 approach.  I was told to expect a circle to 2R, which made no sense to me given that the winds were 110 at 8 according to the ATIS.  However, I figured I would take that up with the tower.  A King Air was vectored in front of me... I can't imagine why.  They could fly the approach at 90 knots to clear out the stall horn, right?  

Again I was pleased with my flying of the approach as I was always within 1 dot and I broke out looking at the runway right where my needles said it should be.  It's a very comforting feeling.  

At about 2 miles from touchdown and just before breaking out, the tower asked me to pick my speed up.  I was miffed by this because I am set up stable at 90 knots and preparing to slow once I have the runway in sight.  I said I'd keep my speed up and probably waited until about a mile out before slowing the the Vref of 66 knots.  I have a bad habit of getting high once I break out,  but other than this I was pleased with the approach and landing.  

2.6 in the log book along with 2.0 actual, a hold and three approaches.  Not bad.  

Now, if I could ever get that long cross country in...