JCarneal

Students, hide your logbooks...

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2008-10-02T07:05:28-05:00

CFI Checkride Gouge

My CFI checkride is today. I'm scheduled with an FAA examiner and I'm really not feeling overly confident. This checkride is like any other I've had in that I could pass or fail it on any given day, except that this one is universally accepted as being extremely difficult. I'm reminded of this old joke:

Guy 1: I don't think I'm going to pass this test today.
Guy 2: C'mon dude... think positive!
Guy 1: Ok... I'm positive I'm not gonna pass this test today!

It's not quite that bad inside my head, but it's not wildly removed either.

So I arrive at the FBO on time, loaded down with Krispy Kreme doughnuts. My examiner chose a chocolate. I think we're going to get along fine.

Me: Well, that's one of Maslow's needs taken care of...
Examiner: (chuckle)

We settle in and start going over the paperwork. Since I'm using a Bonanza A36 for the ride, he checked my aircraft logs including the last annual, ELT, transponder, and pitot inspections. The last we wouldn't need as long as we stay IFR, but he did check nonetheless.

E: Does your airplane have a MEL?
Me: No, sir.
E: Then how do we determine if an item is a no-go item today?
Me: AFM, day VFR certification regs for this aircraft, ADs, and 91.205.

Apparently he was mostly looking for 91.205.

After that we go over my paperwork. Evidently my pedigree is in order between IACRA, the CFI ground instruction logs, my AGI cert, logbook, medical, and FIA exam results. With all of that checked off, it's time to settle in for the test.

It is at this point that I notice I'm shaking almost imperceptibly. At least I hope it's imperceptible; I hate to think he can see it. I will myself to take a drink, calm down, breathe, etc. Then I realize it's an uncontrollable physiological result of my overactive adrenal glands this morning. Apparently I was more worked up about this than I thought, and there's nothing to do but carry forward and wait out the shakes.

The following are a list of questions and answers that ensued on the 4.5+ hours of oral examination. I don't remember every question, so this is definitely a subset of what was asked, but it should prove helpful to anyone prepping for a checkride.

How would you prepare a lesson?
- PPARE = Preparation, Presentation, Application, Review, and Evaluation (expound on each)

How would you go about systemically meeting the Private Pilot requirements?
- I'd use a syllabus I prepared on my website along with a new student questionnaire I stole from Philip Greenspun to learn about my student. The syllabus is not a discreet collection of lessons, however, because I don't really believe in those. Every student is different and some will require more or less of a given topic. Thus I've broken down the curriculum into steps that can be covered in one or more lessons each and I'll evaluate the progress of the student through each phase of the requirements in determining when to move on.

(I think he liked that answer)

When and how would you give a critique?
- I'd give it immediately after the lesson and I'd be: objective, specific, acceptable, comprehensive, thoughtful, etc

What methods of teaching are there?
- Lecture, demo/performance, group discussion

Which will you use most often?
- Demo/performance

How will you use that?
- I'll explain a concept, demo it for the student, have them explain it to my while I do it, and finally have them perform while I supervise

Where will you do that?
- On the ground and in the air

What's the worst classroom in the world?
Me: The cockpit.
E: Yep, you got it. They're not going to hear a thing you say up there. Remember that.

What do you have to teach before you solo a student?
- Takeoffs, landings, stalls, wake vortices, ground reference, go-arounds, emergency procedures, etc. See 61.87.

What would you put on a pre-solo knowledge exam?
- Part 91 review, local procedures and airport, make and model specific questions

E: Always put a question on it about alcohol, whether a student can carry passengers, etc. Think of all the dumb things your student could do after solo, and really protect yourself from those things by putting it on the knowledge exam.
Me: Will do.

How long must you keep records?
- 3 years

How long should you keep records?
- Forever.

How will you know when it's time to solo a student?
Me: When I'm confident he or she can safely solo the airplane under the given conditions for the day and be able to reasonably handle any changes in those conditions.
E: I always say it's when you've become a passenger in the airplane. When you don't have to do or say anything, it's probably time.

What's the most common form of hypoxia?
- Hypoxic. It stems from a lack of oxygen, typically at high altitudes.

Have you ever experienced hypoxia?
- Yes and no. I probably have and did not realize it fully. The signs can be very subtle.

What is hyperventilation and how can you fix it?
- Breathing too rapidly, causing too low a ratio of carbon dioxide in the blood. Slow your breathing through effort or use a paper bag.

If you have a student that is blind in one eye, what can he/she do?
- Get a SODA, statement of demonstrated ability.

Who will fly with them for that?
- The FAA.

How do you scan for traffic?
- Small segments of the sky, say 10 degrees, at a time. Look at each segment for at least 1 second to detect movement.

What about on a high wing airplane?
- Have to raise the wing.

Where do most accidents happen.
- Paradoxically, most occur on clear VFR days in the vicinity of an airport or VOR.

E: (paraphrasing) Ok, Jeff, the rest will not be like other oral exams you've had. Now you're going to have to teach me lessons on varying topics. The detail you go into and the methods you use are entirely up to you. If you need to use texts or figures, feel free to do so as appropriate.
Me: Ok.

E: Teach me how an airfoil generates lift.
- At this point, I drew an airfoil, some air flowing around it, and described Bernoulli's principle and Newton's third law.

E: Teach me about left turning tendencies.
- Torque, slipstream, P-factor, precession with a lot of detail on each.
E: Which of those are dominant in what we fly?
- I'll say torque. P-factor is also a big one. Precession is more prominent in tail draggers.
E: Good. I think P-factor is at the top, followed by torque.

E: Teach me about primary and secondary control surfaces and how they work.
- Drew an airplane, taught ailerons, elevator, rudder, trim, flaps, etc. We didn't hit on it much, but now would be a good time to know your stuff on adverse yaw.

E: Teach me about static and dynamic stability.
- Used the marble in/on a bowl example. Drew an airplane and described the effects of positive, neutral, and negative static and dynamic stability.

E: Teach me about the landing gear system on your airplane.
- Drew it out. Mechanically linked, electric motor actuates, and described in as much detail as I could manage.

E: Teach me the fuel system.
- Had a diagram from the POH which I handed him. Went through all the parts on the board, including sumps, fuel vents, and returns.
E: So does your airplane return unused fuel to both thanks?
Me: Apparently so.
E: Interesting, some only return to the left tank. Also, good job on the fuel vents. Why are those important?
Me: Because if dirt daubers (or anything else) stop them up you'll create a vacuum and starve the engine for fuel.
E: Very good.

E: Teach me the electrical system.
- 24V, with 100A alternator. Voltage regulator sets the output from the alternator to rest of the system.
E: What's the difference between a generator and an alternator?
Me: Output from a generator is induced while an alternator has a bridge... uh...
E: ...Rectifier.
Me: Exactly! What a good student! Bridge rectifier that converts the AC current to DC. It requires an external voltage source and is more stable under low RPM conditions.
E: So which would you want if you had a dead battery?
Me: A generator.

E: How does the prop governor work?
Me: Magic!
- I drew it out and fumbled around through overspeed and underspeed conditions and he was apparently satisfied.
E: Which direction does our prop default if we lose oil pressure?
Me: In singles, it will go to the flat, or fine, pitch.

E: Teach me about operational limitations using a Vg diagram.
Me: I can draw a bad one on the board, or I can show you a great example in the Jepp Commercial book.
E: Absolutely! Page 12-22.
Me: (chuckle)
- Mostly covered that abrupt control maneuvers at certain speeds cause stalls, and at other speeds break the airplane. Know where Va, Vno, and Vne are for sure, and what they do.

E: Will that be our Va today?
Me: No, that's for gross weight.
E: Let's calculate our Va using this formula then.

From same page in Jepp Comm book: Va2 = Vagw * sqrt (W1 / Wg)

Va2 = New Va
Vagw = Va at gross weight
W1 = Current weight
Wg = Gross weight

What are the G force limits on your airplane?
- The Bonanza is utility rated up to gross weight so 4.4 positive Gs and 1.76 negative Gs.

After a lunch break, we came back and he assigned me some endorsements.

E: You've got a student taking his long solo XC. Here's a copy of a medical and pretend this blank sheet is a logbook. Give him all the endorsements he'll need to make this flight. Assume he's flying a Cessna 150.

I endorsed the medical (student certificate) for solo in the C-150 and for XC. Then I endorsed the logbook for the pre-solo knowledge exam, solo, initial XC, and solo XC. Other than forgetting to sign the last one (and don't forget your CFI number and expiration!), he was satisfied with it.

Where do you find the FAA recommended language for endorsements?
- AC 61.65.
E: Correct. Never put anything less than what they suggest on any endorsement. You can put more, just don't use less.

If more than 90 days passed, would you endorse the medical again?
- No, just the logbook.

When would you add an endorsement to the medical?
- When the student is ready to solo a new make and model.

Next we started on the VFR sectional.

Where does class E start here?
- 700 AGL.

Here? (pointing to dashed magenta line)
- At the surface.

Why are they different at those airports?
- The purpose of class E airspace is to separate IFR and VFR traffic. I imagine the airport with class E to the surface has an instrument approach with lower minimums than the other.

E: Any other reason?
Me: Uh....
E: Is there a particular type of activity that takes place at one of these airports that would require class E to the surface?

At this point I begin staring holes in the chart.

E: The answer's not on the chart, Jeff.
Me: That's too bad because it's not in my head either.
E: (laugh) It's because of scheduled air carrier service to that airport.
Me: Oh, ok. Never heard that one.
E: Is this class E in effect all the time?
Me: Yes.
E: (pause) Where might you look that up?
Me: Ah, the AFD.

Apparently some class E are not full time, though we couldn't find an intermittent one of this particular chart. Still, good to know.

What airspace is this?
- Class B, C, D, TRSA with all the limits, weather reqs, etc. I suggest knowing airspace cold.

What's this line?
- Mode C veil

What are the pilot and airplane requirements for class B?
- Private pilot, mode C transponder, two way radio.

Can you solo a student in class B?
- If I've given them training in that specific bravo space, an endorsement, and it's not one of the ones that prohibits student pilots.

What are the weather minimums for class B? (and others)
- Clear of clouds, 3 sm visibility.

Pilot and airplane requirements for class C?
- Student, mode C, two way radio.

If I wanted to fly in this airspace without talking to anyone, how would I do that?
- Fly at XYZ altitude. (Know the airspace limitations depicted on the chart)

Is TRSA participation mandatory?
- No, but it's a good idea and highly recommended.

What are wake vortices?
- Vortices of air that form at the wingtips as high pressure air below the wing seeks lower pressure.

When are they the strongest?
- When the airplane is in the clean configuration and slow.

Why?
- Because the vortex strength is in proportion with induced drag which is highest while clean and slow.

That's about all I can remember from the oral. In the days since the ordeal I have apparently made good use of repression as there was more I cannot recall at the moment.

We next discussed the flight and I got a standard weather briefing. Then we covered things like, I'm PIC, I do radios, and I should not assume he knows how to fly a plane. He wanted me to comment on any common errors he made, and correct them if necessary. Additionally, as I talked through the maneuvers, I was supposed to note any common errors I made during the flight rather than ignoring them.

Lastly, he reinforced that I should be absolutely certain to do clearing turns. This was obviously a biggie for him. I put it on my kneeboard with stars around it.

Again, I should stress this isn't everything we did or discussed on the flight, but it's what I remember.

- Start up, he taxied, and performed a soft-field takeoff. I instructed.
- Slow flight
- Hood work, unusual attitudes (nothing too hard)
- Power off stall
- Power on stall (Stay coordinated! I made sure to point out as I increased right rudder)
- Accelerated stall (45-50 degrees bank, and recover at first sign of stall)
- Steep turns (rolling from one to another)
- Turns around a point
- 8s on pylons
- Chandelles
- Emergency descent
- Short field landing
- Short field takeoff
- Soft field landing instruction
- Power off 180
- Go arounds

So I'll give you a little anecdote on the emergency descent. During the oral he asked the following.

E: Does your airplane have a published emergency descent procedure?
Me: Yes, it does.
E: Ok, make note of that we'll need to do it during the flight portion.

I wrote down the steps, though they're nothing special in the Bonanza. Gear down, one notch of flaps, power to idle, and pitch for 154 KIAS.

Now, I should point out that I've heard from people who attended the BPPP (Beech Pilot Proficiency Program) that you couldn't hit 154 KIAS on a bet during one of these. Mainly because, as my IA likes to say, "The Bonanza goes from the cleanest airplane in the world to the dirtiest in the flick of two switches." Translation: When you throw out gear and flaps, you create a tremendous amount of drag on this airframe.

So we're up there and then the following...

E: You have smoke coming in the cockpit, what do you do?
Me: Kill the master.
E: Alright, that's done. Now you see smoke and flames from the cowling.
Me: Ok, emergency descent time. Gear, flaps, power, 154... here we go! Clear left, right and below.
Me: By the way, I don't think we'll hit 154 but I'll do my best.

At this point I pitched for about a 60 degree dive. I was really aggressive about it, too. The airplane absolutely begins to fall out of the sky. I check the VSI and it's pegged at -4000 fpm. Our best estimation after the fact is that we were doing -6000 fpm or so. I then look over at the airspeed indicator and it's locked at 135 KIAS.

Me: I can stand this thing on its nose if you want, but I still don't think we'll hit 154.
E: (looking impressed and slightly nervous) Wow... no, that's ok, we can recover here.
Me: Roger that.

So we recover and the demonstration has obviously made an impression.

E: I've never seen an airplane do that before. This thing comes down like a lead-covered brick!
Me: Amazing aint it?
E: That was very impressive.

Translation: if you have a fire on the blower, you want to be flying a Beech :) All I would have to do in a real emergency descent is level-off, one more notch of flaps and I'd be slow enough to land within seconds. The Bonanza is truly a marvel of aeronautical engineering, thank you Walter Beech!

The last maneuver was me instructing through a soft-field landing. I'm slightly embarrassed to say the examiner performed a better landing then than I ever have on my own plane. It really wasn't even close. I barely felt the sucker. Hell, I kinda liked the guy until that!

After shutting down we remarked about a couple of the maneuvers and he said I did very well. We drove back over to the conference room where we had begun the day and a few minutes later I'm holding a beautiful new temporary certificate.

E: That what you've been waiting for?
Me: Yes, yes it is.
E: Well, you're through the hard one now. Good job.
Me: Thank you.
E: That's not something to just hang on your wall though. Get out there and use it!
Me: Will do.

And then I called everybody I knew, took my family out to dinner, and enjoyed a relaxing evening of NOT studying for my CFI oral examination. Students, hide your logbooks, there's a new CFI in town...

Wait, it's 2008 now?

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2008-08-26T13:00:50-05:00

I'm still alive. Some of you that have flown with me are probably shocked :)

Just a quick update if anybody is still reading... in no particular order, I have recently accomplished the following. One or more of these may receive more dedicated writeups as time permits in the future.

Started www.BeechTalk.com with Jeff Snyder
Went to Osh Kosh
Commercial checkride passed (SEL)
Found an A36 to buy (coming home this week, I hope)
Finished CFI ground training
Passed the following knowledge exams yesterday: Fundamentals of Instruction, Advanced Ground Instructor, Flight Instructor Airplane

As you can see, I've been busy. Too busy to write and keep up this site. Can't promise that will change, but I'll update it as soon as practicable :)

IFR Lesson 18 - Lateralus - The Checkride

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-21T22:22:39-06:00

IFR Lesson 18 - Lateralus - The Checkride

It's pretty amazing really. About two months before I began studying for the IFR written I put on my calendar the days I would take both the written and the practical tests for my instrument rating. I took the written one day earlier than I originally scheduled myself. Today is the exact day I pencilled in to take the practical, some three months prior. If I can fly as well as I schedule, this rating is as good as done.

I do wish I had gotten more sleep last night. With life in general, and the holidays in particular, intruding upon my studies, I found myself a little under prepared last night for the oral, so I stayed up later than I would have preferred to ensure the hemispheres of my brain were within 50rpm of each other. On the upside, I feel very much prepared for the oral now, and only a smidgen lean of peak in general terms for the flight. And with this paragraph, I've hit my quota of corny pilot metaphors so we can safely trudge onward.

As is my custom, I pick up doughnuts and bring them to the FBO. I was early but the DE has an office there, and I found him chatting casually with the chief pilot of the school.

Me: Here you go, gentlemen. I figure the extra sugar can only help my chances.

After a brief, but welcome, delay cramming warm, glazed doughnuts down the pipe and cutting up with two pilots with more combined total flight time than I have total time breathing, it's time to begin the oral. I may have exaggerated slightly. I forget that I'm getting "old".

We start with the customary logbook, 8710, and payment dance. He then goes over the IFR flight I've planned per his instructions and has a few questions about that. No problems there, really. Afterwards, he asks for a weight and balance for the flight and I immediately produce that. Unfortunately, we'll have to drain some fuel from the airplane to be under gross, but I'm aware of this and have notified the school about it. He appears pleased that I have not overlooked this detail. Score one for me and high-fructose corn syrup!

Now it's time for DE to take the lead and for me try real hard not to step on his toes or dip him at the wrong moment in the tune. Here are the questions I can remember. There were many, many others that I can't. It was a long, thorough session of question, answers, and discussion.

1. How often should we do a VOR check?
Every 30 days

2. Describe the ways do that.
VOT, designated check point, airborne check, dual VOR check

3. What is the frequency for a VOT at smyrna?
110.2

4. Where is that information listed?
AFD

5. What are three sources of in-flight weather advisories?
AIRMET, SIGMET and convective SIGMET.

At first I just really didn't understand the question, somewhat out of context as it was. Then he spotted me "AIRMET" and it all came tumbling out. Brain lock.

6. How often are AIRMETs issued?
Every 6 hours (he then prodded me for "or as needed")

7. What are the three types of AIRMETS and what are they for?
Sierra (IFR), Tango (turbulence), Zulu (ice)

8. To whom do they apply?
Small aircraft

9. To what weather phenomena might a SIGMET alert you?
Turbulence, wind shear, icing, ash, etc

I needed a bit more prodding here, but got a few without it.

10. What about a convective SIGMET?
Thunderstorms, hail, tornadoes, etc

11. To whom do they apply?
All aircraft

12. At what airspeed do you fly the approaches?
About 90 (correct, but bad answer, see question 13)

13. About 90 huh? So which is it? Category A or B?
I said B and explained it was based on the fastest portion of the approach not the slowest. He nodded in apparent satisfaction.

14. At what temperature should you be concerned with ice potential?
+/- 5 degrees C

15. At what temperature/dewpoint spread should you be concerned about the formation of fog?
2 degrees C

16. What procedure should you follow if you lose a radio?*
Answer he wanted and that your DE will want: Assigned, vectored, expected, filed

Originally I stated that, while this wasn't the answer he was looking for, I would pull out my backup radio. Then as I began to explain the actual answer he interrupted and began to go through it himself. Wanting to show him that I knew the material, I interrupted back as he arrived at "filed". I think that kind of perturbed him, but it was important to me to show that I wasn't being flippant out of ignorance, I just truly would pull out my backup radio. Flippant would be to describe how I would curse when I discovered the dead batteries.

17. En route charts: At what altitude would you file this route?
Looked at chart and give him the MEA

18. En route charts: At what altitude would you cross this fix?
Looked at chart, noted the MCA flag and gave him the MEA on the other side of the flag

19. En route charts: What does this symbol mean? (MCA flag)
Cross at or above the altitude on other side

20. Runway signs. 26 of them.
A quiz given in the form of matching the description next to the sign picture.

Of the 26, he counted 7 that I missed. I did not want to be the one to point out to him that, because it's a matching quiz and I didn't use any answers twice, I could not have missed an odd number. Thus I either actually missed either 6 or 8 [Edit - Oops, yes you can, my mistake, 7 is the number]. Complicating the matter further, he tallied the grade as 68 instead of 73. I tried to alert him to that, as if it somehow made my performance stellar, but he just looked at my quizzically so I decided to let it drop, filing it away for clarification in the unlikely event that he failed me on the oral based solely on this result.

DE: Didn't do too well on that did you?
Me: No, sir.

A couple of the symbols I'd never seen before in my life. A couple of them, like the runway hold short and the free-movement area demarcation line look similar and are much easier to discern in context than on a piece of paper. I believe I transposed the answers for those, for example. Others had odd descriptions like "holding short of this line is imperative to ensure wingtip clearance of passing aircraft", and therefore were ambiguous as it could be the answer for more than one of the symbols.

Don't mean to sound like I'm making excuses, but I really do know my airport symbols and lights pretty well. Still, I was not able to demonstrate that on his quiz for one reason or another. The results speak for themselves so my answer to him was straight-forward: I didn't do well.

21. When must you file an alternate?
If weather forecast within 1 hour earlier or later than arrival time is worse than 2000 ft ceilings and 3 nm vis.

22. What are the following: MEA, MCA, MOCA, MRA, MSA
Min Enroute Altitude
Min Crossing Altitude
Min Obstruction Clearance Altitude
Min Reception Altitude
Min Safe Altitude

23. What items are included in a position report?
Position, time, altitude, type, estimate, next

24. What are the Part 91 takeoff minimums?
There aren't any

25. What are your personal takeoff minimums?
1000 ft ceiling, 2nm vis

26. Why do these two adjacent en route charts not line up correctly at the edges?
The scale of the charts is different

27. What are some benefits of filing and flying IFR?
Less weather worries, you're in the system, etc

He prompted me for traffic separation, TFRs, etc. I actually had in mind TFR avoidance by my "in the system" comment but had not explicitly stated it.

28. How often must the altimeter / transponder / etc be checked?
24 calendar months

29. Describe the current requirements for instrument flying.
6 approaches within 6 months

30. What must you do if you let your currency lapse more than 12 months?
You must take an instrument proficiency check flight

31. Where might you encounter wind shear?
Near thunderstorms, temperature inversions

32. Are you more likely to encounter strong wind shear ahead of a cold front or a warm front?
Warm front (did not know this one)

33. What should you do if you encounter wind shear?
Be aware of large performance decreases, be ready to apply power and go around as necessary

34. Where might you encounter a microburst?
Near a thunderstorm

35. What should you do if you encounter a microburst?
"I'm probably screwed. But I'll apply power and try to get out of there anyway."

36. What altitude would you file if going east?
Odd thousands

37. Is that magnetic, true and heading or course?
Magnetic course. Embarrassingly, I answered magnetic heading and he corrected me.

After several hours of back and forth on the above, he puts his hands on the table and looks out the window.

DE: Looks like it's clearing up out there. Let's go fly.

So, it wasn't my best performance on an oral, but I was reasonably pleased with it. Keep in mind that I tend to remember questions I stumbled on better than ones I got right immediately so the stumbles are probably over-represented in the above. If not for the sign quiz, I'd have been very pleased with my performance on the oral. But I've passed, so time to get my head in the game for the flight portion.

Incidentally, the following should not be construed as a complete description of the approaches and related items that I performed on the ride, but it's a reasonable representation of the kinds of things that will be required of a pilot on an IFR checkride.

I preflight the airplane before he comes down from his office, and I'm finding myself a lot more nervous than usual for this ride. As part of the preflight, I perform a VOR check and note it's within 1 degree. That'll do. Then I make a point of checking the departure procedures for MQY in the US Terminal Procedures book. I have heard stories of guys who did not do this, particularly at untowered fields, and received a pink note to take home to mommy for their lack of caution.

I take off and flip down the glasses at 300 AGL. He requests that I level off at 2500 to stay VFR, and I graciously comply. Except that the DE successfully distracts me just before level off by asking me to check the highest obstacle in the MSA area for MQY. As I'm doing so, I notice the altitude coming up quickly, but my level off is crap and I'm immediately dangerously close to busting out of my 100 ft PTS grace confinement.

DE: (gruff and annoyed) Does this airplane have trim on it?
Me: Yes, sir, just getting to that now.

I trim the airplane and get it where it should be, acutely aware of how close a call that little fiasco was.

Next up are constant airspeed climbs, descents, turning descents, turning climbs, etc. Mainly because of the bumps present down this low, these weren't fantastic, but I was +/- 5 most of the time. DE seemed satisfied with it all.

He also asked me to slow down to 80 knots in level flight which, despite having practiced it, is surprisingly tricky to do. I opted to use one notch of flaps to help get there and increase lift a bit, but looking back on it this was almost certainly unnecessary. Still, it helped as we transitioned to slow flight and other maneuvers afterwards, so meh.

A few unusual attitudes and various other maneuvers later and it's time to start our approaches. We start with a VOR approach.

DE: First give me a hold, standard turns, on this intersection (pointing to plate)

The point at which I was to hold was a DME waypoint, 18nm from the BNA VOR. Since there's no DME in the Katana, you have to use the "Nearest VOR" page in the Garmin 420 to simulate DME instead. I tune in and identify the VOR, turn to the Nearest VOR page on the Garmin, and begin to dial in the inbound course on the OBS. I got this. No problem.

DE: Uh.... I'm trying to figure out what you're doing.

That statement seriously unnerved me. Now I'm sure I've done something wrong, but I can't figure out what!
I look again at the chart, back to the OBS and begin to doubt myself. Did I put in the wrong course? Surely not. Nope, looks right. Nevertheless, I began to dial in the reciprocal just in case that's what he was looking for.

DE: No, put that back where you had it.

At this point I'm throughly confused and coming up quickly on the point where I need to figure out the hold entry and start turning. Fortunately, it's a direct hold so it doesn't complicate what is quickly becoming a confusing situation. I decide to let him be confused and I start my turn back outbound in the hold based on the "DME" on the 420 and just hope for the best. As I begin to time the outbound leg...

DE: Why are you doing this the hard way?

He turns the 420 back to the moving map, loads the approach and shows me the waypoint on there. Well hell, that's what he meant! He was confused about the nearest VOR thing on the Garmin. Well, that's how CFII and I have always done it, and I (incorrectly) assumed he wanted me to simulate a VOR approach and hold w/o using GPS. I so love miscommunication and false assumptions on checkrides.

DE: Use every tool you've got. Make it as easy as you can.
Me: Ok, roger that.

Now that we're finally on the same page with regard to this approach, I turn back inbound and he appears satisfied with my hold. Now it's time to begin the approach in earnest.

I get to the intermediate leg and begin my descent down to 1900 at 700-800 fpm like we always practiced on non-precision approaches.

DE: What's your hurry to get low? How long do you have to get down there?
Me: About 4 more miles.

Presumably, he wanted me to slow down my descent to something that would have me reach the FAF at the prescribed altitude. From this point, maybe something like 200 fpm. That's counter to the way I've read about and practiced, so I have a bit of trouble finding a power setting that will slow the descent and keep my airspeed within PTS. Consequently I end up fighting the aircraft with trim, throttle, and pitch all at the same time in a precariously unbalanced dance to remain within standards.

This is not going well.

Finally I get to the FAF and descend down to minimums. Sure enough, runway environment in sight, time to go missed per the instructions received from BNA approach. After that we'll start our next approach, but I am already feeling frazzled, and DE must have noticed.

DE: Get yourself a drink there... relax.
Me: (big exhale) Ok...
Me: You're not seeing the best of what I got.
DE: (mock surprise) What?! You mean you fly better without me in the airplane? (chuckle)

Heh, yeah, I do actually. Although I see his point and can only imagine the number of times he's heard that tidbit. Let's see if we can pull this together for the next approach. First he fails the attitude indicator and DG then tells me I'll be flying a GPS approach.

This one goes considerably better, except that the airspeed/descent thing is a concern again. Other than that, I manage not to bust the minimums and go missed at the appropriate time.

As I'm ascending and turning for the missed, he tells me to dial up the ILS 32 for Smyrna. As I'm doing that, I overshoot the assigned altitude by *almost* 100 feet. I immediately correct it and nose down aggressively.

DE: Whoa, that was a big bump there.
Me: (chuckle) Yes, it was.

Score two distractions for DE, dammit.

Next he "fails" the GPS for the ILS 32 approach. I just slightly overshoot the turn inbound on the localizer, but nothing that can't be easily cured. I correct for the wind, capture the glideslope, and fly right on down to circling minimums with virtually no trouble. In an error that would send CFII's blood boiling, I fiddle with the throttle trying to maintain the airspeed. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have simply left it alone as I had been taught, but I've been successfully put off my game by this ride to the point that I'm no longer performing up to my usual standards. Here's betting I bounce the landing.

Still, the approach is clearly made from the passing mold and he gives me the nod. From here it's a simple matter of circling, landing, taxiing, and not saying or doing anything (else) stupid.

As we're shutting down the DE looks at me for the post-flight debrief.

DE: Ok, you made it. The main thing I have to say is "Trim the airplane!" You fought with pitch and throttle and nearly busted the airpseed several times. Let the trim do the work for you.
Me: Yes, sir.

So there you have it. I passed, but it was a performance not altogether praiseworthy. In the past, I've had some of my best flights ever during checkrides, so I guess it's an inevitability that this trend would not continue indefinitely. Still, I like passing with flying colors and it appears this time those colors are rather bland shades of beige.

At this point, all I can do is recognize and learn from the mistakes I made, as well as recognizing the successful parts of the flight. Thus, in avoiding overthinking and overanalyzing my performance, per the admonitions found in the lyrics of the song serving as the title of this post, let's spiral out to new territory. I feel like I have a whole world of potential flying destinations that just opened up for me with this rating. The additional freedom is breathtaking, and I am most anxious to exercise my new privledges.

As an aside, you may have noticed all the titles of my IFR lesson posts were song titles. For those that care, here is the list. It'd make for an eclectic iTunes playlist, I'll tell ya that.

1. Aint No Sunshine - Bill Withers
2. Even Better than the Real Thing - U2
3. Hold Me Now - Thompson Twins
4. Blame Canada - Southpark (Trey Parker, Matt Stone)
5. Since I Lost My Baby - The Temptations
6. Mama I'm Coming Home - Ozzy Osbourne
7. It's Not Easy Being Green - Kermit the Frog
8. Tones of Home - Blind Melon
9. All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix
10. If You Could Only See - Tonic
11. Crossfire - Stevie Ray Vaughan
12. Long Way Around - Chris Whitley
13. All Falls Away - Big Jim Slade
14. The Last Mile - Cinderella
15. Monkey Business - Skid Row
16. Rumblin Train - Badlands
17. Countdown - Rush
18. Lateralus - Tool

And in my usual tradition of sharing pictures of the journey, here's another slideshow. This one is set to a song that I've never heard in an aviation video before. And while not strictly within the bounds of the song's intended meaning, I think it's a very fitting tune for aviators. Hope you enjoy it.

But first, a hearty thanks to everyone who read these entries, offered encouragement or advice, and generally supported my efforts. I'm very grateful for the opportunity to learn from other pilots in describing the trials and tribulations of training through my writeups. So again, thank you. And to CFII, thanks for everything, I really couldn't ask for a better instructor.

Now, where did I put those commercial ticket requirements...

IFR Lesson 17 - Countdown

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-20T08:43:20-06:00

IFR Lesson 17 - Countdown

Test prep again. I figure that's appropriate the day before the checkride.

Today we're planning a morning flight to do some last-minute prep, and then a ground lesson later for paperwork (my favorite) and a bit of mock oral. Having obsessed over the PTS last night, it seems there's a couple of items that need some refreshing.

Me: I think I need to work on steep turns, constant airspeed climbs and descents and a couple of approaches.
CFII: Ok we'll do the VOR 18 into Shelbyville, a GPS into Murfreesboro, and the ILS into Smyrna.

We head out and I'm dismayed to see that MQY is almost overcast. It occurs to me today may be the last day where that is of terrible concern to me as a pilot. However, it's not helping for our practice this morning which is wholly dependent upon remaining VFR in the katana.

After takeoff we start with constant airspeed climbs and descents. As it turns out, I was stronger on these than I thought, probably because you're pretty much always doing constant airspeed stuff on approaches whether you realize it or not. Unconscious practice, if you will.

Moving on, steep turns. By contrast, these were considerably weaker than I would have guessed. Everything was within PTS, but barely and exceedingly ugly. It took several iterations each direction to work out the kinks, so this one was definitely worth the time spent. I finally determined my skill level flying these sufficient, at least to the extent that the DE would likely not hit me with his clipboard, and we moved on.

After finally figuring out a maneuver most private students can do their sleep, we moved on to partial panel unusual attitudes. CFII brought his game today. The first one had me baffled, at least with regard to the throttle, and it did not escape his watchful eye. I got the wings level and the airplane straightened out but I had no clue what to do with the throttle initially.

CFII: So what kind of attitude were we in?
Me: Um, not sure really.
CFII: We were way nose up and, if anything, you pulled back on the throttle a bit.
Me: Ok, let's try again.

Obviously that wasn't going to do the trick. I'm really used to having a laser focus in the attitude indicator on recovery, so I think without that I wasn't sure were to look initially. I quickly formulated a game plan consisting of altimeter, airspeed, and turn coordinator and the next few improved dramatically.

CFII: Hey, I finally found a use for lazy eights!

Glad I could help! Another review item worth its weight in minutes spent.

Now it's off to SYI for an approach. I have done this so many times now that I have the VOR 18 approach memorized and I recite it to CFII verbatim. I'm unable to reveal the full extent of my mastery, however, because there are clouds partially obscuring the airport. Finally, we are forced to break off our instrument approach because we cannot remain VFR. It's situations like these that reaffirm my belief that somewhere out there is a cosmic being laughing his ass off at all the little paradoxes he injects into our lives.

We decide to try a GPS approach into MBT and then head back into Smyrna after that. The weather is deteriorating rapidly, however, and it's getting harder and harder to avoid the clouds. Still, by some miracle of fate, there's an opening on the GPS 18 approach, and CFII directs me to fill it with our little airplane.

I switch to CTAF before beginning my approach and announce our intentions. Surprisingly, there is another VFR participant in this game, and he answers back that he's doing a bit of pattern work. He's also flying a Mooney 205. If I hadn't been so busy, I would have landed and waited for him so I could slobber all over his airplane. As it is, I have more important things to do, so I continue my approach and tell him we'll yield to traffic in the pattern.

As I'm approaching the FAF, I continue to hear his calls about the pattern. The poor guy barely has enough time to spit out his tail number before making a turn and having to start all over again. That's the draw of the Mooney.

Me: Listen to that... he's screaming around that field.

CFII grunts, and then it occurs to me that I've just accomplished another mental bandwidth milestone. Not only am I now capable of flying the approach and announcing our position on CTAF, but I can interpret other traffic in the pattern and still have enough left over to be jealous of their speed capabilities. Now that's progress!

I get down to minimums without any major flubs, we go missed, and head back to Smyrna for the last ILS 32 I'll fly before the checkride. Tis ok, it's another one I've got memorized by now, and my performance this time around bears out my ability to competently fly the approach. Note I said 'competently' and not 'magnificently' or other superlatives.

CFII wanted me to keep the glasses on down to 100 feet, but I chickened out and pulled them off at about 175. I wish I'd kept them on, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Things get hairy that close to the ground, and the needles tend to dance around like aboriginals around a sacrifice victim. I'll just let that serve as a reminder of my personal weather minimums and we'll call it lesson learned on the day.

CFII and I debrief after the lesson.

Me: (hesitant) So uh... you think I'm ready?
CFII: Oh yeah. If you don't think you're ready, you're crazy.

I replied with my standard answer that I could pass or fail on any given day. I think what bugs me about that is the lack of consistency that allows that to be a factual statement. Or it could just be pre-checkride jitters, but tomorrow at 8am we'll find out for sure.

IFR Lesson 16 - Rumblin Train

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-19T08:24:12-06:00

IFR Lesson 16 - Rumblin Train

Yeah, another IFR lesson writeup. Sure, I could sit here and blather on endlessly about how CFII covered up all the instruments in the cockpit and demanded I fly every approach within a 50nm radius with duct tape over my eyes and my left foot and right hand tied together. Or.... I can briefly tell you we did slow flight, stalls, unusual attitudes, and a couple approaches and then detail me and CFII goofing off for an hour in the Seminole together.

I know which one I'd want to read, and I for damn sure know which one I'd rather write!

We arrive at M54 and meet with MEI (a different one than the MEI with whom I originally trained) to make sure I'm still somewhat competent behind the wheel of this thing.

I preflight the airplane and have very little difficulty remembering all the crooks and crannies in which I've been taught to look. Then we climb in and I find that right away I'm fumbling around looking for switches that just 90 days ago were second nature. Hmmm, that's weird. Evidently the synaptic connections formed during my training need a bit of additional adhesive. Maybe that's what sniffing superglue is all about... hmmm. Someone cue the "Airplane" reference!

MEI points out a couple of items in the interest of time and, after the runup, it's time for the takeoff briefing. Upon which I also, almost inexplicably, stumble. I got to "once the gear goes up" and just stopped dead like it required switching to Laotian for the remainder of the briefing. Ok dude, it's time to find your Seminole legs again. I can still do this. Right?

I apply power, check the gauges and we're zooming down the runway and quickly reach rotation speed. On the upside, I find that I'm still able to think way ahead of the airplane. The downside is that first pattern was complete crap because I flew it way too tight. In reflecting on it, it may have been precisely *because* I was really ahead of the airplane, and thought to turn earlier than I probably should have.

The landing is acceptable but long and we taxi back to the starting line. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping the thing slow enough on taxi and I'm unwittingly riding the brakes pretty hard. After a bit of brake squealing and much deserved chiding from MEI about that, we're off again for round two and it's demonstrably better. Actually felt like I knew what I was doing again this trip around. Very much improved.

I was expecting the third trip around to be the best yet. I get upwind around 400 AGL and...

MEI: Let's make this one fun! (yanks back right throttle)
Me: (grimace)

Having watched him do it I unconsciously correct with rudder input as he's pulling it back. Which would have been really spectacular if I hadn't pressed it on the wrong direction. I briefly, and somewhat alarmingly, send the nose swinging the wrong direction. After ensuring my feet and brain are talking on the same frequency, I'm able to right the ship (or rather, left it) and fly the pattern pretty much like I did 3 months prior.

After a pretty decent landing, MEI appears satisfied so I drop him off and CFII climbs into the right seat. After a bit more landing practice I let him take the controls for a bit. That was a really bad idea. Not because he didn't know what he was doing. Oh no, to the contrary, the smarmy bastard flew the thing from the first moment like he'd done it all his life. I mean really... the guy should have had the common decency of screwing up *a little* to boost my ego. Blow through an altitude by a couple hundo. Miss your airspeed by 10 knots. Anything! Harrumph. Must be how he was raised.

So after a bit more pattern work its off to shoot my first multi approach. Given almost zero time to setup for the approach, I didn't really even understand where we were in relation to the plate. My situational awareness of the approach when we began was firmly in negative territory, with a high absolute value. Nevertheless, a bit of sweat and swearing later and I'm flying the VOR 19 approach, albeit at a faster clip than I'm accustomed. Like, 50% faster. Ack!

Surprisingly enough, I flew the approach acceptably after my initial confusion, and it culminated with another passable landing. Sadly, CFII had another lesson pending so we had to cut short our fun and head back.

You know it's a good day when you can buzz around the patch and shoot an approach well into the triple digits.
The bad news is that this wasn't a banner performance for me, and my multi skills evidently atrophied at a somewhat alarming rate, in my opinion. The good news is that I now have a much better understanding of how important it is to do recurrent training in twins, which could easily be a life-altering experience.

IFR Lesson 15 - Monkey Business

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-18T09:39:10-06:00

IFR Lesson 15 - Monkey Business

Today we'll mix business and pleasure.

Me: You wanna fly over to Lebanon and see if they'll rent us the Seminole?
CFII: Sure. Let's do an approach on the way.

Always thinking, that one.

I had heard from my MEI that if you trained in the Seminole, the FBO will rent it to you after you pass the checkride. Not having tried that so far, and being very close to losing multi currency, I figure today's as good a day as any to go see if I heard right.

We fly over and I do the GPS 19 approach on the way in. A guy comes on the radio after a few minutes wondering how far we are...

Me: Oh, about 4 miles.
Him: Ok, I'll do my runup and wait for you to get here.
Me: Roger that, thanks.

So I continue flying along in my foggles-induced blind state when CFII tells me he has the guy in sight.

CFII: And, uh... he's smoking.

I peek for a second and see a wall of smoke billowing from the guy's exhaust.

Me: (click mic) Lebanon traffic, uh, you aware that you're smoking?
Him: (chuckle) Yeah, it's good for it every now and then.

I laugh and figure the guy is kidding, but now CFII and I are both very much intrigued.

I continue the approach and pull off the foggles at minimums and finally get a good look at what this dude is flying. I wish I remembered the type, but it's some sort of very impressive-looking aerobatic low-wing. I can't even tell you what made me so sure it was aerobatic at the time, knowing very little about that sort of thing. You'll just have to take my word for it and know that there was no mistaking its aerobat status, even for someone as uninformed on the matter as I.

I make all haste in getting off the runway so we can watch what this guy is gonna do. Fortunately, the guy is in the mood to play and wastes no time in showing off.

CFII: Look, he's puttin' on a show already!

CFII nailed that one. As the plane lifts off, he flies almost the length of the runway about six inches above the surface then at the last moment the airplane goes asymptoticly vertical for about a thousand feet before he finally lays it over in some twisting maneuver I can't adequately describe. It was completely bad ass.

Me: (keying mic) Woooooow.
Him: Why... thankie very much.
Me: Thank you. Have a good flight, man.

Seminole fun or no, that was worth the trip over here. Goodness.

After that bit of fun, we head into the FBO for some more good news. As it happens, all I have to do is fill out some paperwork to clue them in on my current flying experience and buzz around the patch a few times with the MEI, then we can rent that baby! Not having the records with me, and not wanting to spend time filling it out at that moment, we decide to come back tomorrow for the real festivities.

On the way back we fly over to Gallitin (M33) so I can get a mulligan on a DME arc I flew (and I use that term very loosely) once before. I completely murdered it last time, but I think I'm ready for it now. X-plane and I have gotten familiar with this approach in recent days.

Sure enough, I nail it this time, and it's off to Lafayette (3M7) for a GPS approach. Other than confusing both myself and ATC by repeatedly calling the airport Fayetteville, the approach is unremarkable and we're headed back to Smyrna.

I notice CFII checking his watch and note that we're running a bit late.

Me: If we don't have time for the ILS today, it's no problem.
CFII: Is that cool?
Me: Yeah, I'm pretty comfy with it now.

So we fly back to a visual 19 and shutdown to end another successful (and fun) "test prep" day. Really looking forward to tomorrow though, when we'll indulge in a bit of double-throttled entertainment.

IFR Lesson 14 - The Last Mile

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-14T09:33:05-06:00

IFR Lesson 14 - The Last Mile

Despite my horrible performance in the last lesson, I have apparently crossed
a milestone. The log entry for today's flight is the first to contain those
fateful words: "Test Prep"

CFII: Anything in particular you want to work on?
Me: I'm still shaky on just about everything.
CFII: Well, we haven't done GPS waypoint holds, so we'll start with that.

We hop into a DA-20 and rocket our way through the harrowing flight to
Murfreesboro (KMBT), a full 10nm away. I pull up the GPS 36 approach and
then...

CFII: (playing ATC) N223NH, hold as published at URACE.
Me: Hmmm. Ok.

The labor contract dispute between my brain and my hands has apparently
finally been resolved as I am able to not only determine the proper hold
entry, but then execute it. Hoffa would be proud.

Round and round we go and then CFII assigns me the GPS 18 approach instead.
Hrm.

CFII: (again, as ATC) Which initial approach fix would you like?
Me: Standby.

I get the plate for that approach and pick a fix that I'm pretty sure is
closest to us. As it turns out, either of two would do the trick, but CFII is
satisfied with my choice.

After flying that approach and going missed, I'm shocked to discover no real
mistakes were made. By the way, if you can't tell, I'm having a major crisis
in confidence after that last flight. It's bad enough that I'm half expecting
to land gear up in our fixed tricycle DA-20 later today.

Moving on, we head towards KSYI again to fly a partial panel DME arc. Now,
let me tell you, it'll have to be a *real* emergency before I'd ever do this
on an actual IFR flight. If I had the choice between a vacuum failure DME arc
and gliding down an ILS after exhausting my fuel, I'd have some real thinkin
to do.

Nevertheless, I fly the approach sans about half the instruments. Ironically,
when you have inop systems, and therefore fewer instructions to actually
watch, you're tremendously more busy. It's realizations like this one that
make me love flying.

After all that, however, this approach, despite being the first time I have
flown it partial panel, was quite good. I was absolutely pegged on the arc
the whole time, nailed the turn inbound, and didn't even screw up the 270
degree compass turn on the missed. Even CFII was on my side this time.

CFII: Excellent job.
Me: Thank you, I'm rather surprised myself.

To show his appreciation for my fine performance, he leaves the stickies on
for another partial panel ILS 32 into Smyrna. This one started out a little
dodgy with the localizer, but I manage to come through before the outer marker
and fly it down moderately above of the capabilities of your typical ILS
virgin. Not my finest example, but I'm satisfied with it.

On the whole, it's been a good day, and I very much needed one after the last
one. As we're taxiing back...

CFII: Now that's checkride passing material right there!

Shame he's not the examiner. We'll see if I can keep this upward trend going
until the fateful day. Oh, and yeah, it's been scheduled but I'm not telling
when :)

IFR Lesson 13 - All Falls Away

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-13T08:32:46-06:00

IFR Lesson 13 - All Falls Away

I apply full power and release the brakes on the Arrow just as a gaggle of crows land on either side of runway 19 about 500 ft ahead of us.

Me: Watch those birds.
CFII: Ok.

Sure enough, about 100 ft before we reach them, they spring up and fly right in front of the airplane. I immediately pull the throttle back to the stops. Brakes aren't necessary as they clear out just moments before we puree them. I continue the takeoff from there as normal and try very hard not to view a flock of suicidal ravens as an omen for the flight.

But wait, let's back up a minute...

CFII and I are back in actual today on an IFR cross country to Bowling Green (KBWG). The conditions aren't as ugly as yesterday, but the ceiling is still somewhere around 800 ft. If you've been keeping up, I don't need to tell you the status of the DA-40, so we'll be flying the Arrow again.

I perform a normal preflight on it and as CFII and I hop in the plane, I get some long overdue payback on CFII for a prank he pulled on me months ago. It all started when it occurred to me he has no brakes on his side of the Arrow.

Me: (after taxi clearance) Ok, testing my brakes. (Stops) Good. Your turn...
CFII: (stepping on brakeless rudder pedals and giving me a dirty look)
Me: (sniggers and points)

So you know, the back story on that one is that just after completing my PPL I flew in the Arrow for the first time with CFII and another CFI from the school. I was not the pilot, but I helped with the preflight. That is, right up until CFII asked me to open the door on the left side of the plane. If you don't get the joke, you need to look up the number and location of doors on the Arrow. So you see, he was a big meanie head first!

Back to the flight, we're knee-deep in the clouds and, after getting vectored around at the whims and musings of BNA controllers for a short time, we're cleared direct to our destination. As we get closer, we break out on top and it's clear skies above with lots of fluffy tops below.

CFII: Isn't it cool how gray it can look from the ground and you climb up here and it's bright blue skies?
Me: That sounds like a hallmark card.
CFII: (chuckle)

I start prepping the VOR RWY 03 approach as we reenter the clouds, and despite needing a little prodding on where all the switches and levers are in this airplane, everything gets done in plenty of time. We tell ATC we're going to fly the full approach and they give us their blessing.

I wish I could say I flew this approach in an even remotely acceptable manner, but that just isn't the case. I'm pretty sure it was karmic retribution for that brake thing. Anyway, I flew to and identified the IAF (which is the VOR on this approach) and turned outbound just fine.

CFII: What altitude can we be at now?
Me: Duh...2300.

Since in most math circles, 2300 < 3000 (our current altitude) I began a descent and then flew the procedure turn. If that were the worst of it, I'd be thrilled. It's not.

Inbound I set the course and began my descent down to 1300 as called for in the IAP on the intermediate leg. I also call our position out on CTAF and complete my GUMPFS check. Keep in mind we're still very much in IMC.

Me: Ok, there's the final approach fix, descending down to minimums...
CFII: Stop descending. Look again how you identify the FAF.

Oh man, that can't be good. Apparently, I saw the 2nm from the runway on the plate and associated that with the 2nm reading on the DME, which are NOT the same thing. The 2nm DME reading shows the distance from the VOR, not the runway. In other words, I had just begun my final descent 2 miles early. Had CFII not been there, it could easily have really been my final descent. Now I'm really feeling guilty about my brake gag, dammit.

So I level off again at 1300, wait to cross the VOR as prescribed by the plate, and then I crash land the arrow in a bugger of a crosswind and CFII and I take a timeout for lunch. After that we're back up in the air for a whirlwind of approaches. Unfortunately, things don't get much better with a full belly.

First up is the VOR DME-A into M54. We're on top for a moment and then I descend down into the clouds and some pretty nasty bumps. I slow the airplane down considerably, but I'm startled at how much busier things feel when you're being jostled around. Despite that, I manage to fly the arc just fine and get turned inbound. Maybe I can turn this day around.

Then again maybe I should go back to model cars.

At least this time I descend at the proper points and to the proper minimums. However, once down there I cannot for the life of me find the runway. Where, where, where.... look at the chart again to get the orientation of it, but still nothing. What's worse is I'm actually very familiar with this airport; it's where I trained in the Seminole!

Despite all of that, I just can't find it and then I look directly to my left and finally catch it as it tries to dart out of sight again.

Me: Finally!
CFII: If it makes you feel any better, I just got it about 30 seconds ago myself.

CFII requests I go missed and I comply, but I'm off the radial I need so I start scooting back over to it to the left. Or so I thought. As it turns out, when I dialed in the inbound course, I put in the reciprocal course thus giving myself a good dose of reverse sensing, leading me in exactly the opposite direction I need to intercept the radial. CFII busts me on this and I'm 0 for 2.

Now on to SYI for a VOR DME approach I've flown a number of times now. I intersect the arc and miraculously manage to hold back the suck that is building inside me all the way up to the turn inbound. Despite an extra helping of vigilance the whole way leading up to it, it appears that I've blown through the turn...

Me: You gotta be kidding me!
CFII: What?
Me: I blew through... oh wait, nevermind.

Phew! No, I just momentarily misread the VOR needle. As it turns out, I flew this one ok. Blind IFR student finds a course? Anyway, after that, I go missed again and it's back to Smyrna for a ILS 32 that, despite my best efforts, I manage not to foul up.

The debrief for that flight was interesting. CFII struggles to find something positive to say about the flight, and I probably would have laughed if he had.

CFII: By the way, I didn't want to say anything at the time, but you had CTAF in wrong at M54 so I switched it over for you.
Me: (sigh) Par for the course today.
CFII: You'll just have to check and double-check everything.

In reflecting back on it, I know that's at least partly it. The other ingredient to the cure is probably just that I have to work my way through making all the errors available in the IFR mistake universe so as not to repeat them. At this rate I should have them all knocked out within the week.

IFR Lesson 12 - Long Way Around

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-12T17:42:13-06:00

IFR Lesson 12 - Long Way Around

CFII and I had planned to the the long IFR cross country today. The weather is... um... interesting. Seems we have IFR and LIFR in just about every direction. I call CFII to see if we're a go.

Me: This is exactly the kind of weather that would be a no-go for me personally. But if you're very comfortable, it would probably be a good experience for me.
CFII: I'm good, but we need a plane.

Too true. The Katana obviously can't go. The school's DA-40 is still fubar. The arrow is booked. Hmmm. Aha! There's a DA-40XL over at John Tune (JWN) we're both checked out in. I run it by CFII and he's cool with that. So we'll get treated to a healthy dose of G1000 IFR goodness today. I quickly plan a flight from JWN to GZS to MKL and back to JWN and head out the door.

Next I call FSS for the world's longest weather briefing. Seriously, there are folks with PhD's in meteorological studies who wrote shorter dissertations than the briefing this guy gave me. The first question the guy asks is if we're IFR or VFR. I tell him IFR but I want a weather briefing only and I'll call back and file after evaluating the weather (with CFII). He then starts the briefing.

About halfway through the briefing I'm getting the unmistakable feeling this guy is trying to talk me out of the flight. When he says things like "forecast at GZS is 600 overcast" his tone belies a sort of parental disapproval used when talking to a child whose decisions the parent can no longer forcibly influence. It's like getting a full briefing from my dad and he really, really wants me not to go. This being my first real IFR flight, I'm getting moderately disturbed by it. Maybe this guy knows something about the inhospitality of this weather that I don't. Finally about 2 minutes from the end of the briefing:

FSS: So obviously this would not be an advisable VFR flight.
Me: Uh....
FSS: Oh wait! You said IFR didn't you!
Me: Yes, sir.
FSS: My mistake, I thought for some reason you said VFR.
FSS: (noticeably less negative) So would you like to file now?

Man that was a weird conversation. I'm gonna have to ask mom to have a word with him.

Upon reaching the FBO, CFII and I discuss the weather. Doesn't appear to be any ice or convection, but suffice to say we'll definitely get wet, and I'll want to pay particular attention to the missed approach procedures today. We eventually decide it's a go after discussing various contingency plans in case of equipment failure and/or IFR student malfunction.

I get our clearance from BNA clearance delivery on the ground at John Tune and I'm ready to takeoff into the great, white unknown.

Me: I'm going with 400 ft for those clouds.
CFII: I'll say 300.

We're kind of both right as I enter the clouds around 350 ft AGL say silent little prayers for the continued health of all 180 horses beneath the XL's cowling.

Now, let me take a moment to give the G1000 its due. I got checked out in this airplane shortly after getting my PPL, and I really couldn't appreciate the glass at the time. Sure, it's sparkly and pretty and all that, but other than the active traffic, I just didn't really see the point while flying around VFR. I do now.

Having that huge horizon bar when I entered those clouds immediately put me at ease. It's like I'd have to make a conscious effort *not* to stay upright, very much unlike when I flew the Arrow the other day. It was a very dramatic display of the capabilities and benefits of the G1000, so I have to eat a bit of crow for any uninformed statements with which I previously maligned the system. The G1000 must be flown in the soup to be fully appreciated.

During the first leg to GZS, we were in and out of layers the entire time. Never once saw sky or ground, and it was an eerie feeling being unable to tell when we were in a cloud or simply between them. I get the weather as far out as I possibly can to give myself plenty of time to sweat over the approach. Looks like I'll be performing a solo arrangement of the GPS 16 approach in E minor.

I load up the approach on the MFD and, again, the G1000 shines spectacularly. The large screen shows both my course and the approach and the intersection of the two. If only it had the vertical profile information as well, it would be nearly impossible to screw this up. Even for me! As it is, I'll just have to man up and find a creative way to botch it.

As I get to the approach, I fly it right along as I've been taught, only about 10 knots faster than the Katana. At the final approach fix I make the final descent down to minimums and I'm still completely in the soup.

Me: I don't know if we're going to make it.
CFII: We may not.

I just now realized how macabre that sounds when taken out of context. Anyway, I review the missed again and then just as we make it to minimums, I can see the ground but there are still clouds obscuring my view of the runway environment. I continue flying at the MDA, as someone interested in living should, watching and waiting for either the runway or the MAP.

Approximately one mile from the end of the runway, and mere tenths from the MAP, the clouds opened up like an early Christmas gift and provided us a very welcome, picturesque view of our runway. I could not have scripted the weather any more perfectly than that. Well, maybe with X-plane.

Me: Wow!
CFII: I was hoping it would do that.

I put the XL on the pavement, my first rain landing, and we taxi off to the ramp for clearance to Jackson, TN (MKL). It takes just this side of forever because FSS lost the second leg of our flight plan, so I'm forced to refile. Then we wait for clearance and receive it just before the point at which we could have reached MKL via bicycle. Grr.

We finally get back in the air, after reviewing the departure procedures of course.

ATC: N745DS, when you get a moment update me on the conditions at GZS.

For some reason I found that pretty cool. I am probably one of a very few people that will fly in or out of that airport today, so I was all too happy to relay what we saw to ATC. I felt very piloty doing so.

The flight to Jackson was also, in, among, and between clouds the entire way.

CFII: See if you can hold altitude within 40 feet this leg.
Me: Ok.

I'm happy to say that while I didn't manage that 100% of the time, it was the exception not the rule when I was outside those parameters. As we neared MKL, I requested and was cleared for the VOR 02 approach, and then ATC hands us off to MKL tower.

Now, apparently they don't have radar at MKL. How do I know? Because the lady in the tower asked me about every 5 seconds where I was on the approach. That would normally be fine, except that, you know... I'm totally blind and somewhat busy trying not to kill us while flying this joker. I understand she had other traffic she wanted to get off the ground and whatnot, so it wasn't like I thought she was pestering me unnecessarily. It just added to my workload significantly that she needed a progress report every other nanosecond. Fly the plane, dude.

Despite the distractions, I fly the approach with only a couple of hints from CFII, and again, we break out and find the runway almost exactly at minimums. This is the exact weather for which this approach is published. It was nuts that two of these lined up so perfectly with their published minimums.

We get out for a small snack and break and as we're discussing the day so far, CFII gives me a sobering lesson.

CFII: Now, imagine you're on an approach at night where you see the ground but not the runway and you decide to descend below minimums to get the runway in sight.
CFII: Next thing you know you're hanging by some power lines you couldn't see. This has actually happened to people.
Me: *gulp*

I can see how it would. I can also see how people wouldn't consider the possibility, so I'm quite thankful that he mentioned it.

After gobbling down the utmost nutrition-yielding sustenance the vending machines have to offer, we decide that, while Jackson is a nice town, it's time to head home.

We're happily flying along on the third and final leg when CFII dips into his bag of tricks again. This time it involves a breaker and the GPS units. And a certain finger from his student in response.

CFII: So where are we?
Me: (ballparking it in my head) Um...
CFII: Here, use this. (Hands me the enroute chart)
Me: Hrm, ok.

For a second I think he just wants me to point out the location until I see the VORs and realize he wants me to determine our *exact* position based on the radials of a couple of those. Well, fair enough, if you're gonna get all picky about it. After some minor fumbling about, I finally coerce the G1000 to produce what I want in a manner sufficiently accurate to satisfy CFII.

CFII: Starting to feel like an IFR pilot now?
Me: Actually.... yeah, a little.
CFII: You should. You're doing everything right.

That may be overstating the case, but certainly today has been a good testament to the training I've received up to this point.

As we approach John Tune (KJWN) I begin to prepare for the ILS 02 approach. Here's the thing about John Tune... there's a 2000 ft TV tower just to the east of it. It's a big, intimidating, airplane-eating, metal beastie. Even more so when it hides in the clouds just waiting to pounce on our unsuspecting, composite vessel.

CFII: If you're going to screw up, please do so to the west side of the localizer.
Me: Roger that.

We were unable to complete the approach trifecta as this one was NOT to minimums, but I'll take a 500 AGL breakout, thank you very much.

I taxi off the runway and shutdown, and I'm taxiing back to the hangar mentally letting my guard down and then...

CFII: What was that last instruction from ATC?
Me: Oh shit! Gotta cancel!

I'm used to flying out of Smyrna, a towered field, where you don't have to cancel your IFR flight plan. While I know you're suppose to cancel at an untowered field, it completely slipped my mind.

Chalk another one up for CFII. Oh, and I want very much to never hear the score on that game.

IFR Lesson 11 - Crossfire

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-11T17:40:39-06:00

IFR Lesson 11 - Crossfire

Another simulated IFR XC today. This time the weather is very much VFR with a few scattered clouds. We decide to take a Katana to Crossville (CSV), fly an approach there, and then fly back.

I suspect very strongly that CFII had some inside knowledge of the winds at CSV when he suggested this destination. They were reporting 190@11G17. The runways are 08/26. So basically, if I don't have enough fun on the approach, I should have plenty when I land.

I'm in the air no longer than 5 minutes before another "vacuum failure". Fortunately CSV is a cardinal heading (East) from MQY so between that and tracking the still functional GPS it poses little problem.

CFII: You should break left and bust that little cloud.
Me: And what would I tell ATC about that?
CFII: That we're deviating for weather?
Me: (laugh)

It would be fun, but alas, I suppose technically that little solitary, rinky dink cloud fits the bill of IMC making the adventure a no-go.

As we close in on CSV, I inform ATC we'd like the VOR 26 approach. ATC clears us for the approach then advises us that there is a Mitsubishi, with whom they are not speaking, buzzing around the VOR like an angry hornet. Lovely.

In this corner! The challenger -- in the white and blue trunks, weighing in at 1220 pounds, hailing from Smyrna, TN, the IFR Master of Disaster, the MQY Murderer, the Diamond Destroyer, the Composite Killer -- Katana N964CT!

And in the opposite corner -- The current middle weight champion, weighing in today at 5340 pounds, packing more horsepower than you can shake a stick at, all the way from Isle of Japan, the Mits Mangler, the Japanese Juggernaut, the Tokyo Tiger -- Mitsubishi MU-2!

I'm expecting a fair fight. He's a got a slight 200 kt speed advantage, better reach, and twin turboprops but I've got... er... uh... hmm.

CFII keeps a lookout for the Mits while I try to fly the approach. About every 5 seconds ATC comes back to us with an update on his position, every transmission sounding more urgent than the last. The Mits is apparently maneuvering back and forth over the VOR like an agitated mother protecting her young and CFII is having no luck keeping her in sight. We finally decide to break off the approach and remove my foggles until we either spot the Mits or find ourselves caught in her tractor beam.

I finally spot it and turn the plane so CFII can keep an eye on it. We decide to continue the approach now, so back on with the glasses. Then I notice the OBS is not reacting to any input I give it. I double check the frequency and the nav selector and they are both right. Amazingly, with everything else going on, the VOR has chosen this exact moment to go tits up. Welp, looks like we have to do the GPS (overlay) approach now.

The rest of the approach is, thankfully, uneventful and I "break out" and prepare to land. Now, gentle reader, harken back to that crosswind I mentioned earlier. Between you and me, I feel like I didn't get enough crosswind practice as a private student, so this is going to be challenging. I manage to keep the airplane tracking down the centerline but I'm high and fast with more wind than I'm used to, so I call a go around.

Back around the horn and this time I keep the airplane tracking the centerline and manage a reasonable approach. The actual touchdown was pretty spotty though. If we had more time, I'd love to stay here and practice in this wind but we need to get back. Besides, we wouldn't want to attract the attention of the MU-2 now that we've escaped her deadly clutches.

CFII: A little more right rudder and left aileron and that would have been perfect.
Me: That makes sense.

On the ground at Crossville I get us clearance back to Smyrna and the trip back is decidedly less dramatic. I fly a somewhat reasonable partial panel ILS 32 to end our fun for the day. Tune in next time when we'll pick a fight with a Citation.

IFR Lesson 10 - If You Could Only See

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-10T17:39:05-06:00

IFR Lesson 10 - If You Could Only See

Careful what you wish for. I wanted actual, and the NWS saw fit to deliver to us 700 ft ceilings throughout the area. I actually find that I'm pretty nervous about the whole thing as I'm driving in. I think in large part it's due to the fact that I'm flying the school's Piper Arrow for the first time. Were it not for my extreme confidence in CFII's ability to promptly correct my more life-threateing mistakes, there's no way I'd fly a new airplane into actual. The instrument-fu is strong with that one.

CFII and I discuss the plan and I then file an IFR flight plan to Shelbyville and back. I'm at least relieved there will be no new approaches this trip. I think CFII saw the possibility my brain might melt and opted to show some uncharacteristic mercy.

Walking out to the plane, it begins to rain harder. Good thing my big, awesome umbrella is in the car. Because I'm really smart. And wet.

CFII: Ok, so just preflight it like you would the Seminole.
Me: I see a problem. There's an engine missing.
CFII: (chuckle) Right, other than that.

Other than a couple of obvious differences like fuel drains in different locations, the preflight is basically the same. I find the same is basically true inside the cockpit, except there are about half as many switches and levers. I begin to think this may not be so bad... starting to feel pretty familiar. Still, one last plea is in order.

Me: You sure you wanna do this?
CFII: Yep, let's go.
Me: (sigh)

Start up and taxi out.

CFII: I'm putting some faith in you. I don't have toe brakes on this side.

The irony is delicious. And I immediately begin to wonder how fast this thing will taxi. Runup and the rest of it go as planned leaving me completely out of excuses. I'm staring down the runway with only a few hundred feet between me and my first clouds. Full power, off the brakes, and way too soon we're surrounded by an opaque, grey veil.

It's amazing how much busier things feel in actual versus the foggles. It seemed to require all my concentration to keep the airplane upright. It wasn't until after breaking out on top that I realized that I was sitting way forward in my seat, clutching the yoke, and generally stressing about the situation, at least a moderate degree. It was exactly my expectation of this feeling that discouraged me from wanting to do this by myself for the first time.

As we broke out at about 3500 feet I could feel the tension fall away as if I were taking an anxiety shower and ran out of water. It also wasn't until then that I realized that the Arrow's seat back doesn't come nearly far enough forward to accommodate my usual flying posture. When I lean back on it, even at its most upright, I feel as though I'm an IFR gangbanger cruising at 140 knots in an airborne lowrider. I make mental note to show off the hydraulics with the gear lever when we get back down.

The flight to Shelbyville is otherwise uneventful. We hear some other traffic talking to Memphis center practicing approaches here. CFII's prayers are answered when ATC gives me my first bonafide hold as a Diamond begins the very approach we've requested. Since the Diamond is enveloped in clouds and I can't see him to bust a cap, I decide to honor ATC's instructions and enter my hold.

It's actually a no-brainer, direct entry hold over the VOR. Nothing at all like a hold CFII would ever give me. Those typically require full-gainer inverted 540 teardrop barrel roll tailgrab entries, with a twist. And if he's feeling charitable I've got all of 45 seconds to figure it out.

CFII: See, I told you ATC usually gives you the easiest hold.
Me: I appreciate their consideration.

A few minutes later and we're cleared for the VOR 18 approach. I've settled down enough that I believe I can fly it reliably. It actually helped that I had some time to set up for the approach while holding. I get established outbound and it's back down into the clouds we go.

I tense up again a bit, but much less so than last time. Outbound for a couple minutes, procedure turn, and we're back inbound. So far I've done it all correctly. Descending at the proper points cements my studly status, and we break out just above minimums. Just as the IFR gods intended.

Me: I got the runway.
CFII: Good, let's go ahead and land.

My first landing in the arrow is passable if not great. CFII says nobody can land that thing really smoothly. I doubt that claim, but I certainly did not prove him wrong this time around.

We discuss again how to get back out without making a mess and a loud(er) noise and we're headed back to Smyrna. Since I've already requested my next ILS 32 fix from my ATC pusher, they just vector us all the way back to join the localizer. Works for me since the Arrow doesn't have an IFR approved GPS.

I'm a little faster than normal on the approach in the Arrow than the Katana, as one would expect, but the approach still goes quite well. We break out a few hundred AGL and the runway is right where it should be. I have to say, that's one very cool feeling. I plop us down again and CFII and I head inside intending to cut our day short.

As luck would have it, we get word that the next flight in the Arrow for the day is cancelled and the airplane is wide open. Woot! After a quick bite we file for some more ILS practice and back into the clouds we go.

This time, however, I get no breaks since the only time I'm not in a cloud is when we break out on the ILS. Lots of actual in those three approaches, and I must say I was feeling a lot better about the whole thing the second time around. Despite some pretty strong winds doing their damnedest to blow me off the localizer, I routinely keep the needles within PTS. Not crazy inside the doughnut ATP PTS, but certainly within the shaky, private instrument student PTS. Fear not, I'm a shoe-in for ATP standards next week.

We land and on our way back to the ramp there's a corporate jet being towed out on the same taxiway and coming right for us.

Me: How's about if I just gun it, jump him, and land behind him?
CFII: (chuckle) I think they should add that to the commercial maneuvers!
Me: (laughs)

I vote we work to get that approved. Never know when that'll come in handy.

IFR Lesson 9 - All Along the Watch Tower

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-05T17:36:00-06:00

IFR Lesson 9 - All Along the Watch Tower

I walk in the FBO office and CFII is talking to another CFI. We'll call him CFI-A.

CFI-A: What are you guys doing today?
Me: (shrug) Instrument stuff.
CFI-A: (to CFII) You should show him the GPS 18 approach into Murfreesboro.
Me: Why's that?
CFI-A: Because there's a big water tower right along the approach course. It's a good lesson on why you never want to be low on an approach.
Me: Ack!

It strikes CFII as a grand idea and I can see the wheels turning as he begins to plot against me. I'll thank CFI-A later with one of any number of childish pranks. Most of them involve poo, so I hope he has a nose like a golden retriever.

CFII wants to head back towards Shelbyville and then on to Fayetteville for some approaches. You'll see a familiar theme with me on these lesson plans... I'm easy to please. Virtually every aspect of my instrument flying needs a whole lot of work, so I'm pretty much down for whatever CFII wants to throw my way.

The weather is, again, quite lovely for VFR flight. On the one hand, that's great because we can't take the Katana into IMC. On the other hand, I don't want to go through the entire IFR training without having punctured a cloud, and the stupid DA40 is still broker than the Liberty Bell. I voice my concern to CFII.

Me: At some point I want to fly in actual with you. I don't want my first flight into IMC to be by myself after my training.
CFII: Well, there's always the Arrow.
Me: I've got time in a Seminole which is basically an Arrow with two engines... I think that'll work!
CFII: Ok, we'll try that tomorrow.

Fantastic! That solves that problem. Tomorrow is supposed to bring some IFR weather with it when it comes, too. Of course, that puts me flying an airplane I've never flown before for my first time into actual. Still, it's better than not getting in actual at all. I'll take it.

We head towards Shelbyville (SYI) and I fly a no-gyro DME arc. Craptastic. That's all I got to say about that.

I go missed, again sans the heading and attitude indicators, and I'm coming around to the right to intercept R-340. Along the way I forget how a compass works. I'm shooting for about a 010 heading and totally blow through it as the compass overshoots upon leveling the wings.

CFII: (chuckling) Oh man, that turn gets everybody!
Me: Argh.

I manage to pull things back together after a few S-turns across a radial and enter a hold.

CFII: Ok, now let's fly the SDF 20 into Fayetteville.
Me: Okie doke.

I pull out the plate and immediately insert my cranium into the nether regions of my posterior as I start setting in the localizer frequency right away.

CFII: So tell me how this approach works.
Me: Uh....
CFII: What's this? (pointing to a feeder route consisting of a radial off of the SYI VOR)
Me: (slaps forehead)

Alright, so apparently it's important to not only fly the approach but to GET to the approach. Who knew?

I set everything up properly this time and follow the appropriate radial out to the localizer and then fly the approach like a person who has a modicum of clue from there on. We land at FYM and pull off, and I begin to taxi back.

CFII: So, how are we going to get out of here?
Me: Huh?
CFII: There are clouds everywhere. How do you get out of an untowered field without hitting anything?
Me: Excellent question.
CFII: (hands me his NACO book)

I flip and fumble and finally find the departure procedures. After I triumphantly show him the FYM departure procedure, he nods and tells me to fly it. Aye, aye!

I manage to get us up in the air and dodge the obstacles as dictated by his little NACO bible. My demanding passenger now directs me to Murfreesboro (MBT) for a GPS 18 approach, courtesy of CFI-A.

The setup and flying of the approach pose little trouble (hey, there may be hope for me yet!) and I'm now approaching the final approach fix and all is right with the world.

CFII: Pull up your glasses, I want you to see this.
Me: Ok.

I pull them up and immediately I see what CFI-A was talking about. There's a big white water tower at 12 o' clock and only slightly lower than we are. I briefly consider touching the mains to it so I can log another touch and go for the day. He's definitely made his point... I DO NOT want to be low on an approach. Hell I'm not even that thirsty!

On the way back out we get vectors from Nashville to ILS 32 into Smyrna. The setup poses no problem and I follow their vectors to intercept the localizer.

As I'm flying the approach, I briefly manage to get both the localizer and glideslope exactly centered. This is as close to Mecca as an IFR student can get.

Me: Hey, look, look! I got it!
CFII: Wow, very nice!
Me: Now look away!
CFII: (chuckle)

I'm momentarily the man, but I see no reason to tempt fate.

The needles immediately begin their usual dance once more, but the limits of it seem to be dramatically smaller than previously. This one might have even been within PTS. The needles are mesmerizing. I think I may be turning into an ILS junkie.

IFR Lesson 8 - Tones of Home

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-12-04T12:00:00-06:00

IFR Lesson 8 - Tones of Home

Another simulated IFR XC today.

CFII: So how about 2M2 with MRC as an alternate with approaches into both?
Me: Works for me.

I've been wanting to visit MRC (Maury County) for a while anyway. The way I hear it they're basically giving away hangar space down there and the gas prices aren't bad either. The thing about where I live is that I'm equidistant between about 5 local airports, all of which are at least a 30 minute drive. MRC is one of the farther ones, but the cheap hangar space has me intrigued.

So we saddle up in our trusty Katana, feed it some of its favorite liquid oats, and one part takeoff, two parts foggles and our journey has begun.

Along the way that pesky vacuum stops working again. I must have terrible luck with these things. Seems to happen about every flight. I fully intend to write a strongly-worded letter to the mechanic. And to steal those damn suction thingies from CFII's bag when he's not looking.

I still manage to navigate us right on down the road with some arcane instrument called a "compass". This aquatic animal apparently works by magic and is precise enough to show the correct heading a good 50% of the time. Amazing technology.

As we near 2M2 I check the weather and plates and it's time for a GPS 17 approach. I take note of all the settings and my hands blur like Neil Peart during a second set drum solo as I set up the stack. One final paradiddle on the Garmin 420 and we're set.

Remarkably, I fly the approach pretty well. I know, I was shocked, too! I think I've determined that GPS approaches are the easiest of the non-precision approaches. If you can follow the purple line and descend when you should, they're really no big deal. Even without gyros I found this approach very manageable. I pull off the glasses at CFII's behest, perform a touch-and-go and I'm back into the "clouds".

So here's the thing about IFR training that makes it so much more difficult than most IFR flights: lack of time. I'd normally have somewhere between 20 minutes to multiple hours of cruise flight to figure our which approach I want, how I'll want to set it up, how the airport will look at minimums, the missed procedures, and so on. In 90% of my training flights I have 5 minutes or less to read the plate, set it all up, and fly the approach. This one is no exception.

I pick another GPS approach and CFII sees a SDF 24 approach and tells me to fly it instead. I normally don't do requests, but I make an exception for him.

As I begin to setup the SDF approach, I'm trying in vain to setup the NAV radio and ID the localizer. I double-check all the frequencies, and find that I've got it right, oddly enough. For some reason, I decide now's a good time make a call to CTAF and announce our imminent approach and arrival. Dumb luck strikes again as the Unicom guy tells us the localizer is out of service. Party! I'd rather be lucky than good any day.

So it's back to the GPS approach (neener, neener Mr. CFII!) and, again, it is acceptable. We land, shutdown, and in we go hoping to be the 9th customer today so we can collect our free-for-life T-hangar!

Life isn't quite that rosy, but it's not far off. They only have community space available right now. That's good news and bad news. It's good because it's the ONLY hangar space I've found available anywhere. It's bad news because I'd prefer a T-hangar. Still, community would probably work, at least until something else opened up. Also, the rent can't be beat: $100/mo for community and $120/mo for a T. That sounds like a deal right there, despite the 45 minute drive from the house. So I may have just found my new airplane home.

We finally climb back in and head for Smyrna, performing a no-gyro DME arc and hold over Shelbyville (SYI) along the way. Then God sees fit to miracle my vacuum back into order for a full panel ILS 32 into Smyrna. I must say, the ILS approaches are coming along nicely. The localizer needle now swings more like a hula girl on valium than a windshield wiper. Progress, baby, progress!

IFR Lesson 7 - It's Not Easy Being Green

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-30T12:00:00-06:00

IFR Lesson 7 - It's Not Easy Being Green

I point to the sleeping dragon that is some Evangelical group's 747 short that is even now sitting on the ramp at MQY. It easily dwarfs all of the corporate jets that, until today, appeared big to me.

Me: My God! Look at that monster!
CFII: Yeah, it's apparently a 747 short.
Me: I've never even heard of such a thing.
CFII: Me either until this one.
Me: Shhhh! You might wake it!

I decide that I no longer need to look for the runway environment on my approaches now. This beasty is now my de-facto landmark for all approaches into Smyrna. Might behoove me to kill power as I get close though so it won't hear me. You know, in case it's hungry.

After successfully sneaking past "Smaug" we take off into the wild blue yonder. Right away life gets busy as I have all of about 5 minutes between wheels up and when I'll intercept the DME arc into M33 (Gallatin). Having only flown a DME arc twice now, let me assure you that I'll need a minimum of 6 minutes to properly prepare for this one.

I get the set VOR frequency, ID it, and tune the CDI. This is as far as I get before the mistakes start piling up. Let's skip the narrative and make a bulleted list of mistakes to save us all some time, mkay?

o This approach is based on flying *from* the BNA VOR. I set the CDI *to* it. And left it there.
o It's an 11 DME arc. Not 10.
o Despite initially turning in the right direction, I get off the arc nearly a mile right away and can't seem to fix it.
o By fixating on the above I also manage to blow right through where I'm supposed to turn inbound.

I'm an IFR natural.

I manage to catch that last mistake within a few furlongs and crank my way over into a very nice question mark shaped turn for ATC. CFII catches all the other mistakes for me. Glad I brought that dude along, he's pretty handy.

The rest of the approach goes about as mediocre as you'd expect in light of the above. One last problem is that I failed to take into account (again) that we're flying away from the VOR, meaning the CDI is, of course, getting less sensitive. So while I thought I was doing a bang-up job of navigating, that one dot deflection turned into a rather ugly mess at the end.

Me: Ok, there's minimum.
CFII: You just broke out.
Me: (taking glasses off and looking) Um... where is it?
CFII: (silence)

I glance back at the chart. I should be right on top of it. If it were a snake I'd already be sucking venom from a gaping wound. As it is, I'm sucking other things in abundance.

Me: Really... where IS it?
(pause)
Me: Where the HELL is that runw... oh, THERE!
CFII: Good, now circle to land and give me a touch and go.

So I circle on around and end up really high. Er, strictly speaking, of course. I've prided myself on timing my visual approaches much better than previously. This one has put me a lot closer to the runway than I'm used to, and we started lower, so I had trouble judging just about everything. I have to slip down to the runway.

Me: Haven't done this in a while...

One bone-jarring TNG later and we're on our way to Bowling Green (KBWG) where I'll think of new and exciting ways to screw up the ILS 03 approach! Instrument flying is fun!

When we close in on BWG, there's a Seminole buzzing around in the pattern. Only problem with that is that I'm nowhere near the point where I can do CTAF radio calls during an approach I'm flying. From a workload standpoint, I'm just not there yet. We're going to fly the full approach, so he really shouldn't be a factor until we get somewhere near the final approach fix, but I know I should be making calls to clue him in. CFII agrees to takeover the radio for me. For that he's earned a mental hug and an "attaboy!"

Miraculously, the ILS isn't completely terrible but CFII has to prod me on this or that along the way. Unfortunately, co-dependence doesn't work well in single-pilot IFR so apparently I still have work to do.

After landing, we shutdown for a quick break.

CFII: On the way back you'll depart VFR and then call flight service to file in the air. Then pick up clearance from center.
Me: Hrm. I will?
CFII: (nods)

Geez, doesn't this guy ever stop teaching? He's a machine! Alright, wheels up then, Professor.

Off we go and after a few attempts, FSS finally acknowledges my existence. One air-filed IFR flight plan later and I flip over to get clearance. Center obliges and it's back to MQY for an unremarkable (hey, that's progress!) ILS 32.

Fortunately for us Smaug is based on the other side of the airport so I don't have to treat CFII to an engine-out ILS approach. Stop looking at me like that. I'm sure I could manage.

IFR Lesson 6 - Mama I'm Coming Home

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-29T23:38:13-06:00

IFR Lesson 6 - Mama I'm Coming Home (aka ATC and "Your Mama" jokes)

First lesson out of the sim! The DA40 at our school has been broken for *checks watch*... ever. My last five lessons have been in the full-motion MOTUS simulator at the school. Having fully mastered the art of IFR flying on the contraption, I put in a request to CFII that we train in the DA20 until such time as the 40 decides to depart its current state of depression.

Our timing is perfect as I have a helluva good reason to fly on an XC today: I have a demo in an A36 in Paducah. I mean, yeah, I might learn a thing or two about IFR flying on the way, ya killjoy! But in case you missed it, I get to fly a Bo for the first time today, so pretty much everything else is secondary.

The flight is only 130nm, and the weather is severe VFR. Pretty sure there was an SIGMET for extreme visibility. As an IFR student, I might find that annoying except that we can't take the DA20 into IMC. Well, OK, we could but then I couldn't very well write about it here :)

CFII and I whip up a quick flight plan and I dispatch it to our friendly neighborhood FSS. One preflight and some schoolgirlish giggling later and we're airborne.

Flying out of Smyrna to the west we immediately enter Nashville (BNA) airspace. They're giving me the usual instructions like fly heading so and so, and climb and maintain this and that, but I know they don't really mean it. Besides, I'm still just a VFR pilot... none of that really applies to me. So I fly their instructions with my usual delta of 30% and somehow manage not to plow headlong into a heavy.

Apparently CFII is in a good mood today, too. He let me climb a good 20 feet above the runway before handing me the foggles. But what really gave it away is the following quip during our jaunt through BNA's class C.

Flight Check: Nashville Approach, Flight Check 7, we'd like 4000 to take some pictures.
BNA: Flight Check 7, where will you be taking pictures?
CFII: At your mama's.
Me: (nearly wrecking the plane) Bwahahaha!!

Moreover, he let me take a quick peek at the Nashville skyline. Now, I've flown over it enough times now that it doesn't move me like the first time. However, I must say, I've never seen it this clearly before. The visibility was spectacular. It was as if they broadcast the skyline in 1080i.

So we're riding merrily along after that when CFII dips into his usual bag of tricks. Naturally, in deference to his continued job security, I pretend not to notice the alternator warning light. Yeah, that's the ticket. I was pretendin'. Like Morgan Fairchild. Whom I've seen naked...

CFII: Ok, so here's the thing... you're IFR, but you still have to watch all the other stuff.
Me: Um, how long has that been on?
CFII: About 3 minutes.

I had mentally put the over/under at seven, so three wasn't so bad. Still, if he does that during a real busy time like an approach, I know I've got no shot at noticing. Perhaps my mental capacity will allow me to incorporate that in my scan at a later date.

We request vectors from Memphis center for the ILS 22 into Paducah. I could have sworn I heard them groan. I half-expected them to reply "N223NH, you are cleared for the really, super, insanely, uber-visual instead, ya jagoff." Instead, they were more accommodating than CFII, who made me fly the approach down to minimums.

In retaliation, I treated him to a healthy dose of S-turns around a localizer, and managed to keep the glideslope within an order of magitude past full deflection. Cuz that's how I roll. Into a mountain.

After lunch with a friend of mine, we joined up with the broker for our demo. Turns out he had to fly about 30 miles over to Missouri so that'd be our demo flight. Works for me! Wait, one more thing, can't let you fly left seat for insurance reasons. Boo!! Hiss!! Ok, well, I actually have a little flight time from the right seat, so maybe I won't embarrass myself too badly.

The most immediate thing that hit me was the sheer power of that engine and how just idling it lifts the rear of the airplane up several degrees. After takeoff, I took the controls and futzed and fumbled around while climbing 1000 fpm at something like 115 kts with four grown men in the airplane. I'm thinking to myself all the while, "Man that ride home in the katana is going to suck!"

I also made a point to play around with the ailerons to see what the fuss was about on the Bonanza roll feel. Ok, I get it now. Nuff said.

The broker landed us in MO, I swapped seats with CFII and sat in the back for the ride to Paducah. He got a chance to play as well, and then the broker set up the autopilot to fly the ILS back in. Maybe he saw my approach earlier and thought I'd really need that functionality. I don't disagree.

After the demo, CFII and I reluctantly and dejectedly climb back into the katana. It is precisely my anticipation of this moment that caused me to leave my checkbook at home.

The flight back was uneventful. I flew a VOR DME arc into Shelbyville for practice then ILS 32 into Smyrna. The DME arc was pretty good. The ILS, not so much. However, while I hate to jinx myself here, I have to admit my landings lately in the katana have been pretty damn good. This one in particular fit that mold.

Me: (touchdown and roll)
CFII: Uh, have we landed yet?

He was exaggerating, it wasn't one of the mythical can't-feel-it landings, but it was nice. Hey, it was good to get something right after that approach, so I don't feel like I totally suck. Like your mama.

Oh man, I kill me...

IFR Lesson 5 - Since I Lost My Baby

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-28T23:35:19-06:00

IFR Lesson 5 - Since I Lost My Baby

The DA-40 is still down. Shit. Time for an executive decision.

Me: Let's train in the DA-20 with the hood. The sim is great, but I really need flight time.
CFII: Yeah, I know. That'll work as long as we have VFR weather. Problem is it's booked today.
Me: Grrr.

In the back of my mind, I'm thinking the DA-40 might still come up in the near future, but if not I'll see about flying the school's Piper Arrow. It's the only other IFR certified airplane they have. I think my time in the Seminole will translate nicely to it, so the transition doesn't worry me.

We do head over to the sim and fly a few approaches, including my first SDF into Tullahoma (nicked "Dullahoma" by the locals). A DME arc with a failed DG later and I'm ready to call it a day.

Next lesson ought to involve me leaving the ground. That will be a welcome change.

IFR Lesson 4 - Blame Canada

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-27T23:34:47-06:00

IFR Lesson 4 - Blame Canada

CFII: I got bad news.
Me: Wait, don't tell me. DA-40 is still not up.
CFII: Nope. Want to go to the sim?
Me: Sure.

The sim is a great tool, it really is. And I think every instrument student should do at least *some* training in one. Trouble is, I really need flight time to meet the IFR experience requirements, and the sim is less helpful in that regard.

We practice my first ILS approaches into Smyrna, complete with the missed approach. This whole missed approach thing seems like overkill to me. I'm just going to fly them all perfectly so I don't need that. I run my idea by CFII and he is unimpressed.

I demonstrate my superior skill by wiggling the localizer needle like a windshield wiper blade. All the while oscillating so wildly around the glideslope that I have to call simulated flight watch to give a severe turbulence pirep just to maintain appearances. After testing the tolerances of the simulator's glideslope, we call it a day.

IFR Lesson 3 - Hold Me Now

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-23T23:32:08-06:00

IFR Lesson 3 - Hold Me Now

After a couple of days of expressing my gratitude for all that I have by stuffing my face full of turkey and pie, I'm up for more virtual aviation fun today. But first CFII wants to teach me about holds. Naturally, I read about them when studying for the written. Let's show him how smart I am.

CFII: (drawing a hold) So, what kind of entry would you do?
Me: That's a teardrop.
CFII: Good. (drawing the entry)
Me: Uh... one question.
CFII: Yeah?
Me: How the hell do I fly it?

And there's the rub. Book learnin' is great, but in no way did it prepare me to have to actually fly one of these things. CFII graciously fills my brain with more knowledge on holds than I have any hope of retaining in one sitting, and we go hop in the sim.

After a few holds I'm starting to get it, but for what amounts to flying a Nascar oval at half speed, this is an awfully busy exercise. Time this. Check your heading. Watch your altitude. How long was that inbound course? Adjust your outbound. Intercept that radial. Correct for wind this time. It was ring around the rosy overload!

CFII has not yet let go of the idea that he can perfect the way our sim DA-40 flies. He continues to tweak the settings, each time assuring me that I'm not being charged while he's doing so. One time he forgets to tell me, so out comes the needle.

Me: Hey, I'm not being charged for this am I?!
CFII: (not getting the joke) Oh, no!

*Sigh*. Nobody gets me.

With only a few minutes left, we're trying to figure out what to do next.

CFII: Want to try a DME arc?
Me: Uh.... sure?

I can't even spell VOR DME much less fly it. So he hands me the Shelbyville VOR/DME RWY 18 again and tells me briefly how to fly it. Seems simple enough. Just fly a big circle and turn this little knob every now and again. All too easy.

Again, I manage to fly a reasonable approach, but I'm almost unaware of how much help I'm getting from CFII in the process. Everything is easy if someone knowledgeable is watching over your shoulder telling you how to correct every mistake. Nevertheless, I fly it well, all things considered, and consider the day a success.

By the way, the real DA-40 is still broke. And probably gonna be.

IFR Lesson 2 - Even Better Than the Real Thing

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-20T23:27:26-06:00

IFR Lesson 2 - Even Better Than the Real Thing

Bright and early, I'm back in the sim today at 7am, well-rested and fully prepared to blow through some assigned headings and altitudes. And with vigor.

Between failing my DG and attitude indicator, CFII appears to be having a grand ole time. Think I'll load a virus on the computer he's using tomorrow to see how HE handles adversity.

He shows me a thing or two about VOR tracking and how best to stop tracking in sinusoidal waves around the course. How dare he! I'm an artist, man! S-turns around a radial could be my Mona Lisa on flightaware.com.

Then he deems me ready to try my first approach. He hands me the VOR/DME RWY 18 approach into Shelbyville. With a lot of hand holding, I fly the approach reasonably well. Between now and checkride time I'll just need to eliminate the hand holding, or at least reduce it to a surreptitious caress of the leg. But I'm more or less satisfied that I didn't mangle my first one. Er, approach, not caress.

After lunch is my first IFR lesson in a real live airplane! We're going to fly the DA-40 as it's just come out of maintenance after some dude had a tail strike. Ack! I do a mega-thorough preflight on it, we climb in, start up and... hmm... shouldn't the RPM and MP gauges work? We shut down and try again. Nada.

Me: So that's it?
CFII: (sigh) Fraid so.

Ahh... airplanes. As my friend says, they're either broke or gonna be. This one, apparently, is at least the former.

IFR Lesson 1 - Aint No Sunshine

jeff-blog@carneal.com — 2007-11-19T23:22:46-06:00

IFR Lesson 1 - Aint No Sunshine

There I sit on the runway at Smyrna in my trusty DA-40. It's never let me down before, but today there are clouds littering the sky, obscuring any hope I have of seeing anything above 200 AGL. I'm not nervous though, because I know that even on my first IFR lesson I'll be a wicked badass, capable of one-handed, blind-folded approaches to minimums in the dark with a failed engine. Well, that and today I'll be flying the MOTUS full-motion simulator.

Right away I demonstrate my inordinate skill by sliding off the virtual runway during takeoff. Who knew the DA-40 was such a good soft-field performer? I head up into the nether regions of my cloudy domain while CFII (who, by the way, is CFI1 from my private days) thinks of new and interesting ways to screw me up.

Me: Hey, did you preflight this thing?
CFII: Yeah, oil and tires are good.
Me: Cool.

I find the sim very much more difficult to control than a real airplane. The controls are extremely sensitive and yet have this persistent mush to them like you're in a constant power-off stall. For the most part, I can overcome this, but it's not at all unusual for me to be dead on my assigned altitude, reach up to tune a VOR, and by the time I look back I'm in a free fall. That'll teach me to divide my attention.

We do a fair bit of VOR tracking, constant airspeed climbs and descents, and start compass turns. Unfortunately, the sim is pretty bad at simulating the fact that your compass will never actually show you where you're headed. Unless you're in a perpetual motion airplane driving only east and west, never deviating from level flight or turning. I've seen a few of those lately on Trade-A-Plane... tempting.

CFII is not happy with the way the simulated DA-40 flies either. He says it flies too fast and begins some minor voodoo to fix that in the plane builder software. In doing so, he shows me his vulnerable OCD underbelly. We'll get along fine.

He also gives me a piece of paper with what can only be described as a big, curvy squiggle on it. That's a technical, aeronautical term, so don't feel bad if it's over your head. Along side the squiggle are notes like "climb to 4000", "descend to 2000", etc. My job is to fly the squiggle and follow the directions. I find the task moderately busy, but I generally handle the workload well enough.

To end the day I perform my best Ted Striker "Airplane" landing. If there's one thing truly off about this sim, it's that my landing did not crash the "airplane". There's just no good excuse for why that didn't happen. Hell, I was almost disappointed. Think I'll write me a letter.