Sommaire pour September 2021 de Flying

The silence on the Potomac Approach frequency was stark. It was September 17, 2001, and I was flying a Piper Archer from KFDK in Frederick, Maryland, down to Newport News (KPHF), Virginia, logging two hours down and 1.7 on the return. I filed IFR on a day of shockingly blue skies because that was the only way to operate six days after the World Trade Center towers came down, the Pentagon’s seemingly impenetrable belt line was breached, and a field in Pennsylvania became a final resting place for heroic souls. A defining moment, when I felt viscerally how the world had changed. Twenty years later, I’m circumnavigating the special flight rules area around Washington, D.C., but I’m VFR and monitoring my fellow pilots and controllers on a sunny summer Sunday…

It must have been about two years after I received my private pilot license in Switzerland. At 28 years of age, I was happily married with two healthy boys, aged 2 and 4, and a promising banking career lying ahead. The world and future looked bright, and I was going to take the opportunity to fly when I could. The reason for the next trip was to visit a refinery—situated near the Italian border—that belonged to the bank. I visited the plant regularly to coordinate the bank’s activities with the factory and normally took the car, which made for a round trip of approximately six hours. This time—and considering the beautiful weather—I decided to take the airplane instead. With barely 150 hours in my logbook, I felt that I should…

We taxied up in front of the line of four police cars as we were directed by ground control, instead of to the FBO where our friends were waiting. Martha said, “This is going to be interesting.” As we shut down the engine, we heard the bullhorn aimed at us and a voice: “Pilot, very slowly open your door. Pilot, very slowly stick both hands out the door and come out very slowly.” Martha and I take turns flying and each can fly from either seat. In this case, I was not particularly eager to declare myself as the pilot. Finally, I “agreed” to be the pilot. As I exited the airplane, the bullhorn’s voice said: “Pilot, keep your hands high in the air. Face away from the sound of…

I was watching an episode of Jay Leno’s Garage where he was showing the progress he’d made on some of his ongoing projects during the pandemic. He began by running a massive steam engine he has mounted in his shop. It weighs 12 tons and was built out of a single casting during the Lincoln administration (Abraham, not McConaughey). It still worked, but it’s a dinosaur. Sound familiar? You could describe a piston aviation engine the same way. They work, but they are far too heavy and inefficient for the technologically advanced era we live in. When I change the oil on my Ram diesel after hundreds of hours of use, the used oil’s color can still be described as amberhued. My Bonanza’s oil looks like it came from the…

I had myriad reasons why my Piper Arrow hadn’t slipped the surly bonds in weeks, so when the day’s weather transformed into a beautiful Florida clear-and-a-million sky, I had no excuses. The mission was uncomplicated. I’d fly to an airport only 15 minutes away, top off the tanks, and return home while practicing a GPS approach or two. After a methodical engine run-up, and a “not everybody gets to do this” grin on my face, I pushed the throttle forward on all 200 horses of the IO-360. A scan of the JPI and analog gauges indicated we were go for launch. As the runway lights and centerline markings started to blur with normal acceleration, I noticed that both the Aspen Avionics flight display and the analog airspeed were indicating 35…

When most people think of Holland, wooden shoes, canals, windmills and tulips are often top of mind. But that’s the Holland on the east side of the Atlantic actually known as the Netherlands. The subject of this month’s Chart Wise, Holland in the western part of Michigan, does bear some similarity to the European country for which it was named. Each May, the city’s Tulip Time Festival recalls Holland’s Dutch roots and brings visitors from all around the nation to see the variety of flowers blooming around the city. The airport, originally called Tulip City, is a regular destination for one of this column’s authors. While the ILS approach to Western Michigan Regional (KBIV) isn’t terribly challenging from a flying perspective, the chart does include a couple of notations that…

On a hilltop overlooking a river canyon somewhere in Canada many generations ago, a First Nations elder might have watched an eagle soar gracefully along on the winds and wondered what it would be like if he too could fly. That would respect his Indigenous belief that humans are deeply connected to everything they see—the wind, water, animals, sky and the Earth itself. Fast-forward to today, and the First Peoples’ Aviation Technology Program at Ontario, Canada’s First Nations Technical Institute is making that wish a reality. For many of the flight students in the program, their ultimate goal is not to end up with an airline job; instead, they desire to become certified by Transport Canada so they can go back home and serve their communities as commercial pilots. To…

I have loved airplanes since I was a little girl. So when my son arrived, I was excited to share my passion with him. The early days seemed to indicate that he shared my fascination with flight. One of the very first sounds Benjamin uttered as a baby was a crowlike “cra-cra,” which he excitedly made, while pointing to the sky, any time he saw an airplane. As he grew older, Benjamin made funny noises as he swooped toy airplanes around in aerobatic flight patterns. As a toddler, Benjamin was not one to throw a fit. He would never scream and roll on the floor at Target because I wouldn’t buy the toy he desired, as some kids do. He wouldn’t cry if I refused to buy the tub of…

It’s hard to believe that winglets will soon celebrate their 50th birthday. I wish I could say the same for myself. The late NASA aerodynamicist Richard Whitcomb was one of those figures in the history of science who uncovered principles that, once articulated, seem so obvious that it is surprising they could have ever been overlooked. Whitcomb’s name is associated with three milestones of modern aerodynamics: the widely used GA(W) airfoils, the transonic area rule and the winglet, which was called the “Whitcomb winglet” until time and habit wore the eponym away. (In fairness to forgotten Austrian aerodynamicist of the 1940s Otto Frenzl, it was he, not Whitcomb, who first articulated the transonic area rule. Frenzl’s patent on his “bottle rule” was issued in 1944. Perhaps if he had thought…

“At the airlines, the familiar requirements of FAR 61.57 are superseded by FAR 121.439, which also requires three takeoffs and landings every 90 days but specifies the same aircraft type, with no differentiation between day and night operations. Lapsed recency can only be reestablished under the supervision of a check airman and must include a V1 cut and an ILS approach to the lowest authorized minimums. Reestablishing landing currency in the simulator has always been a routine chore for international relief pilots—but during the pandemic, many domestic pilots were also sent to do their “bounces in the box.” • Sam Weigel began flight lessons at 13 and worked his way up to flying for a major airline. He enjoys exploring, sailing and general aviation.…

On a clear January day in 2018, the 68-year-old sport pilot of a Van’s RV-12 took off from Fort Myers, Florida, bound for Everglades City, a trip of 51 nautical miles. Before taking off, the pilot had requested flight following, but when he was airborne and the tower controller told him to contact departure control, the pilot did not respond. The controller repeated the instruction and, after checking whether the departure controller had heard from the pilot, tried a third time. There was still no response. A minute later, the departure controller established radio contact with the pilot. Communication did not go smoothly. Departure controller: “Two-six-two Whiskey Sierra, Fort Meyers, are you up?” Pilot of 262WS: “Two-six-two Whiskey Sierra.” Departure: “Two-six-two Whiskey Sierra, radar contact, turn right heading one-seven-zero vector,…

One of the unique things about flying for a major airline is that, even at the relatively small bases, you frequently share a cockpit with people you’ve never met before. The level of standardization at modern airlines smooths out the operational aspects of working with strangers, and the fact that airline pilots tend to be a—sometimes regrettably—homogeneous bunch eases the potential for social friction. There is something of a standard introductory formula: greeting the other pilot as they board the jet, introducing yourself, sitting down in your respective seats, building your nest, and engaging in light chatter—including where’s home, when did you come in, and how was the commute? My answer for the past four-plus years that I live on a 42-foot sailboat and that home is whatever patch of…

“Do you want to fly this leg?” It’s Capt. Bill, my flying buddy, once again demonstrating his seemingly limitless generosity. I met Bill while attending Cessna Citation CJ1 recurrent training at SimCom in Orlando, Florida, where he was my instructor. He now manages and flies a CJ2+ based in Hilton Head, South Carolina, for a cool company. Sometimes he hires me to be his first officer/co-captain. Let’s face it: Getting to fly a great airplane for a really nice group of people with a captain who has done—and seen—it all is about as rich as a butterscotch sundae. Add in Bill’s preternatural amiability, and you have a recipe for enjoyment that borders on the outrageous. “No,” I say. “Thanks, though. You’re all settled in the seat with headset, so let’s…