The Great Ongoing Aviation Thread (general and other)

I honestly don’t remember, but I think it was longer than “normal”. That’s in quotes because I discourage people from getting hung up on time to solo and time to checkride. While I want students to move along and achieve their ratings in a timely manner, and there’s the matter of expense, I’m not a fan of doing it with the minimum hours. This seems to obsess some students. I’d rather see them go when they’re ready, with MORE experience rather than less.

For me, it was situational awareness with regard to directionality. I had a poor sense of direction before learning to fly. The first time I lost sight of my home airport and got confused on a solo flight really scared me into improving this. Now I think very well in this manner and make an effort to teach my students how to do it.

Speaking very generally, I see two typical kinds of students - people who excel in controlling and maneuvering the aircraft, and those who grasp concepts like aerodynamics and airspace more easily. Each can become excellent pilots, but sometimes need to work harder on the area they find comes less naturally.

Gosh, I don’t want to talk about it - I was a victim of “churning” because I didn’t know any better. That bastard really wrecked my self-confidence for awhile, I took nine months off, and eventually found a competent instructor. With whom I had to do a lot of re-learning due to the time lapse.

Very frustrating.

About 120.

When they say “interruptions will mean it will take more time to get your license” and “flying less than once a week will greatly add to the time required” THAT is what they mean.

Also, I’ll admit I don’t grasp aviation skills particularly rapidly. I tend to take a bit longer than average, such that when I start a new course of study I budget that it will take me about 150% of average time to master. Sometimes I get it quicker, but not always. On the upside, once I learn it I’ve really learned it, I retain things well once I finally wrap my head around it.

I found stalls extremely difficult.

When I tell people this, they assume it was because I didn’t understand stalls. That was not the case. That is often the case with people who don’t like/fear/do stalls poorly, but not in my case. Particularly not after two separate CFI’s made sure I understood them. No, the problem was (and still is) I don’t like the way they feel. I don’t like the sensation you get with a classic stall. I also strongly suspect I’ll never enjoy aerobatics for similar reasons.

I had to do a LOT of stall practice to get it down enough for the private checkride. I also took some genuine spin training, which I liked even less. I mean, I dislike stalls, I loathe the way spins feel. But I figured facing the beast was the only way to get over the hump and in the end it served me well. Your mileage may vary, of course - what works for me might put someone else off flying. But then, like Asimovian, I came to flying out of fear of flying and took lessons to overcome that fear. Fear does not stop me. I might make me shake, puke, my teeth chatter, all sorts of interesting effects (sometimes I giggle nervously, even) but it won’t stop me.

That gets back to stall problems - stalls felt like I was losing control, and I found that frightening. I had to do enough of them to convince my screaming lizard brain that, no, dumbshit, you ARE in control!

I mentioned up-thread that I got some flying instruction when I was in High School in return for tidying up the school’s offices a few times a week. The first time he had me do a stall myself, the plane fell into a spin. I instinctively did something and immediately recovered. So I must have done the right something. (Well, okay, it was only one quarter spin in the end.) The instructor was impressed. But I didn’t feel like I had actually learned anything.

Some years later when I was learning to fly a glider, I thought stalls were fun. After I soloed, I practiced them a lot. My instructor (my second instructor, not the one who landed me in a cow pasture on that botched rope break practice) had me doing some spins too. We flew over the water (S. F. Bay) for that. He had me spin for at least two full turns before beginning to recover. His strategy was: Just relax. Look out, and enjoy the panoramic scenery as it swirls by. See, there’s San Jose. Now there’s Fremont. Now there’s San Leandro and Oakland. Now there’s San Mateo. Now there’s Palo Alto, and Mountain View. Now there’s San Jose again . . .

I thought that was all kinda fun.

For me it was landing over water. One of the airports I trained at had a lake at the end of one of the runways. Whenever my final approach took me over that lake I’d end up coming in high.

Yeah, every time I mention I hate stalls and don’t like them or the way they make me feel someone comes along and talks about how wonderful they are.

It’s rather like when someone relates difficulty getting to first solo and how hard they had to work and obstacles they had to overcome and it took them 20 or 30 hours. The next person invariably says something like “Oh, really? It only too me 10 hours to solo!”

I know you didn’t mean to, but coming back by quoting me then saying how wonderful and easy you found stalls makes me feel like you’re invalidating my experience. Yes, I know you didn’t intend that, but that’s how it comes across to those of us with stall problems.

I did mine in six and a half hours, flying one lesson per week. It was quick for numerous reasons. I’d already soloed a glider so was familiar with a lot of stuff already. I was flying at a quiet airfield with no holding time on the ground or in the air and in the time it took to climb to altitude you’d get to the training area. I had two instructors who were husband and wife and had taken an interest in me, apart from the two of them I didn’t get shuffled between various instructors. Basically the wife did most of my training and the husband, who was a more qualified instructor, would do progress checks with me.

I got my private license at 58.4 hours after 17 months of training (having an electronic logbook makes working these things out very easy.) It took a further 8 months and 150 hours to get my commercial licence.

My biggest struggle during initial training was with engine out landings. Mainly because I wasn’t assertive enough with the aeroplane to be able to positively correct my errors, and I was (and still am) lazy and hadn’t memorised the checks well enough to be able to comfortably do them while also flying the aeroplane. Basically it took too much of my brain space to remember the checks and while I was doing them I’d tend to get high on the approach and I wouldn’t be positive enough in correcting that. The problem was solved by going over the checks each night when I was driving home from work and by gaining some confidence in low level manoeuvring.

Not that I’m aware of. I know there are some fractional ownership companies around that might work that way, but they’re expensive and require annual fees.

Usually you establish a relationship with a local company that runs you through a flight test before renting you their planes. When you rent you’re charged by the flight hour with a minimum number of hours per day if you keep it overnight.

The best thing to do is get to know someone who owns a plane and doesn’t fly it enough. There are a few people I let fly my plane so long as they fill the tank when they’re done.

sigh Flying is on hold. Been tied up with other things on the weekends, and the weather has not been cooperative. (It’s that half of the year up here.) The disused and crumbling front chimney, which looked like something from a witch’s house with its tangle of dead ivy vines and trunks (yes, actual trunks) had to come down. I thought it would be a weekend’s work for a handyman to knock it down and sheet the wall. Then we saw the water damage from the leak the chimney caused. They’ve been working for four days. The chimney is gone. The rotten rafter and beam have been replaced. The wall has been sheeted and shingled. The roof has been repaired at the chimney cut-out. And now I’m having them replace all of the fascia/soffiting around the house and putting up new gutters. This is starting to get a little expensive.

The good news is that after a long layoff from fixed-wings is that it came back very quickly. The only thing I really need work on is flight planning and navigation. A couple of hours of ground instruction and a couple of flights to put it into practice should be enough. But I’m going to have to recover financially from the house work, and hope for good weather before I can finally get my BFR. At least this time of year and at this latitude I’ll have ample opportunity for some night instruction.

So, based on my personal experience, as well as stories relayed by others, it seems fairly common that people in GA use cell phones (and possibly other electronic devices) while flying. And while it may exist, I’ve yet to hear of an accident related to such device use.

Now, I’m sure that no one in THIS thread has ever violated any sort of FAA regulation. But perhaps someone can explain to me exactly what the big deal is regarding the use of electronic devices and the potential for interference with avionics and/or communications equipment while flying. Why is this a concern for the FAA? Has this ever demonstrably been a problem?

I’ve just been for an interesting trip down memory lane. As I mentioned up-thread I have an electronic logbook (LogTen Pro for those interested), and I have just been through each individual aircraft I’ve flown and fleshed out the logbook’s database. Where possible I’ve added a photo of each aircraft, its serial number, and max take-off weight. I’m not much of a photo person so I’ve had to scour the net for the images. Out of 58 aircraft I’ve managed to find photos for 50.

I realised I might find some interesting things in my search for photos when the very first one turned up this image of a Piper Warrior I’d done a couple of flights in. Apparently it suffered a power loss on take-off January this year.

A friend of mine crashed this Cessna 177 Cardinal in 1998, but I only found out tonight that he was flying this one that I did my first constant speed prop familiarisation in.

I had to follow the registration trail of this Steen Skybolt all the way to the UK before I found a photo of it.

After sifting through a raft of art from street artist “VHILS” I refined my search and found this old photo of VH-ILS, the Baron I did my instrument rating in. The photo was taken in 1974, the year I was born, I flew it in 2003, and it has since been taken off the register after a landing accident in 2007.

This Maule 5-235 Lunar Rocket was registered VH-LJA in Australia then moved to New Zealand and registered ZK-LJA in June 1993 before being written-off later that year. It was rebuilt in 1996 and I flew 16 hours in it over 18 flights from 1997 to 1999. It suffered a landing accident in 2003 with only minor damage and no injury to the pilot and is still registered.

I couldn’t find a picture of LJA in it’s current paint scheme but then I stumbled upon it in the background of this photo of the Pitts I flew from 1996 to 2000. That Pitts was written off in an accident in December 2000.

I only flew this Midget Mustang once. It seems it was since damaged in a take-off accident and has been deregistered.

This North American T6 Texan (Harvard III) was owned by a syndicate of 16 pilots when I flew it in 1998-1999, by coincidence it is now solely owned by the flying school I learned to fly at. That school had one C152 and a Piper Seneca when I started training in 1993. By 1995, when I finished, they had doubled the fleet with the addition of another Seneca and a C172. According to Wikipedia they now have fourteen C152s, one C172, two Senecas, a Tobago, and a Chieftain!

Looking back at that it seems I leave a wake of destruction behind me :D.

I don’t know of any accidents either. They do cause interference, the extent of which is difficult to quantify. At the very least they can cause buzzing through the intercom which can be a distraction. Sometimes the flight crew will forget to turn their phones/ipads off and the noise can be quite annoying. When you’re flying a VFR flight in a private aircraft it doesn’t really matter if a gauge flickers because you’ve left your phone on. Commercial IFR ops are a different matter.

By the way, if anyone has better Googlefu than me and feels like a challenge, I’m looking for photos of the following aircraft:

Cessna C150 ZK-DRE
Cessna C152 ZK-FGC
Cessna C172s ZK-EOA, ZK-EHH, and ZK-ELB
Piper Tomahawk ZK-FTM
Piper Warrior ZK-DEI
And finally a Jodel of some model, possibly a D.11 with an unknown registration, flown at Wanaka New Zealand in May 1996.

With that tarp over it, it looks like a crime scene.

New Study Highlights Aviation Industry’s Economic Impact, Benefits

My first solo wasn’t anything special but after that I had a blast practicing on my own. As a student I called for (and got) special VFR to go to the practice area. The tower took 15 minutes to approve it. I suspect they were digging through books to see if it was OK. I talked my instructor (a friend of mine) into letting me fly to an island on my long cross country. I had a field day. The next leg of the flight had a VOR out of service so I couldn’t navigate and I was having trouble finding the airport. There was a considerable crosswind so I calculated what I thought was the correct heading. For those who haven’t done this it is a chore to triangulate on a map while your plane is getting bounced around in the wind. Anyway, when I got to where I was suppose to be I couldn’t find the airport and in frustration I banked the wings almost 90 degrees and dang if the airport wasn’t exactly where I calculated it would be. My flying ego was short-lived on the 3rd leg of the trip. I flew off the map and there were similar landmarks on the next map that I identified to the radar service I was using. Alas they grew tired of looking for me and had me ident the transponder. I was quickly humbled back to student status.

I haven’t checked to see if this was posted elsewhere on the Dope already, but it seems worth mentioning that the last place you want to have the cops pull the PIT maneuver on you is while you’re taxiing.

I’ve never had that happen, but I was once stopped by a police officer while in my airplane on the ground. It was kind of comical, actually. He had obviously never pulled over an airplane before, and didn’t seem to know what to ask.

Inquiring minds would love to know why in the hell you were being “pulled over” in that circumstance to begin with. :slight_smile:

I’d like to hear about it too.
I’ve said my mom worked at Gibbs down in San Diego. She said a pilot had claimed engine trouble and landed on the street. Since the engine was still running, he began taxiing back to the airport. The tower asked his position, and the pilot replied ‘Holding for a traffic light.’ (I was pretty young, and this was a long time ago; but ISTR hearing the guy was pulled over and given a ticket.)

Enough time has passed that I can probably tell this story without embarrassing anyone.

About two years after 9/11 I got a call from Avi, a former student of mine. He wanted to do some night training and we arranged to meet at 9:00 that evening. The plan was to fly for a while and do some practice landings. The aircraft was on the ramp, and it was already quite dark, so we did the pre-flight inspection with flashlights. We finished, strapped in and began running the engine start checklist.

The strobes were flashing and just as Avi was about to fire up the engine I saw two people standing right next to the propeller. I quickly stopped Avi and called out to the two guys. One was a police officer and the other sort of hid behind him. As the cop came over to my side of the aircraft, I realized what was going on.

Avi is an Orthodox Jew. He has a long beard, wears a yamulka and when waving around a flashlight in total darkness at an airport looks a lot like Osama bin Laden. Somebody had gotten suspicious and called the police. However, the officer had clearly never pulled over an airplane before.

“Hey… um… what are you guys doing?” he asked.

I answered affably, “We’re going flying.”

“Um… have you got a license?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yes.” He didn’t ask to see it, then looked at his companion uncertainly.

At this point I explained that I was a flight instructor, Avi was a licensed pilot and that I was giving him recurrent training in night flying. I offered to show him my license, for which he seemed grateful. After handing it back he craned his neck to look inside the cockpit and asked doubtfully, “You guys aren’t hot wiring that thing, are you?”

Smiling sweetly, I held up the key and jingled it, at which point he wished us a good flight and began to leave. I said good night and suggested that the next time he approached an aircraft flashing its lights he shouldn’t stand so close to the prop.

This was just the beginning for Avi. He had the same thing happen twice while flying on his own.