Tag Archives: pilots

In-Flight “Emergency”…

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…on a check ride.

There’s no better way to test a pilot on his or her knowledge of emergency procedures than to simulate an in-flight unusual situation. I hesitate to use the word emergency here, because what most check pilots simulate is not really a full emergency. It’s more of a situation that requires the pilot’s attention, knowledge of procedures, judgement, and action.

Real Throttle Chops are a Thing of the Past

Gone (or almost gone) are the days when helicopter flight instructors or examiners did “throttle chops.” A throttle chop is a simulated engine failure in which the instructor or examiner twists the throttle to idle suddenly during flight. The engine and rotor RPM needles split and the rotor RPM needle immediately starts to drop. The student or pilot in command is required to immediately enter an autorotation. The experts estimate that the pilot has about two seconds to react properly. Failure to react could lead to unrecoverable low rotor RPM, which is a very bad thing.

Flight instructors and examiners pretty much stopped doing real throttle chops — the kind with absolutely no warning to the student — when helicopters started crashing. It seemed that in some cases, the student pilot or pilot in command wouldn’t react fast enough and the instructor or examiner didn’t either. Or, in some rare cases, the sudden reduction in power caused the engine to hiccup and really fail. Now most instructors usually warn the student in advance. Some slowly reduce the throttle, which leads to an audible change in engine sound that warns the student — not to mention that he or she can usually feel the adjustment in his or her collective hand. Others do a throttle chop and enter the autorotation at the same time, not even giving the student a chance to react.

Robinson Helicopter issued several safety notices recommending against throttle chops (see SN-27 and SN-38). The company even amended its Pilot Operating Handbook so practice autorotations would be done with just a tiny needle split rather than a full throttle-to-idle setting. (Not a very good simulation of an engine failure, if you ask me.)

So What’s an Instructor/Examiner to Do?

One of the instructor/examiners I’ve worked with in the past was extremely fond of failing instruments or illuminating warning lights. This particular instructor, who works for Robinson Helicopter, has a whole collection of circuit breaker tricks that he uses on unsuspecting students. He’ll pull an engine tach circuit breaker so the engine tachometer drops to 0 during flight. No lights, just that dead gauge. He does it to see how long before the pilot notices and whether the pilot knows what do do about it. He’ll do the same for other gauges that are important but not vital to safe flight.

I took my commercial check ride with this particular instructor/examiner and he made me do a run-on landing with “failed” engine tachometer, rotor tachometer, and governor (switch the governor off to simulate). The trick was to make very small collective inputs and hope the mechanical correlator would keep the RPM within range; listening to the sound of the engine helped a tiny bit. But I still managed to make that low rotor RPM horn go off as we approached the runway surface. Evidently, I exercised enough finesse, because although he was disappointed that the horn had come on, he didn’t fail me for it. Personally, I like to see him do it perfectly.

(A side note here. What real-life situation would require you to land with all that stuff inoperable? The only thing I can think of is a complete electrical failure. But even then, I think there’s some trick in the Robinson wiring scheme that keeps the tachs alive. Just can’t remember what it might be right now. Guess I need to look it up.)

My Recent Mechanical Failure

I’ve taken 6 check rides since I started flying about 8 years ago: 1 private, 1 commercial, and 4 Part 135s. There’s usually some kind of simulated failure during a flight. So when the Aux Fuel light came on during my most recent check ride on Thursday, my first inclination was to ask the examiner, “Did you do that?”

“What?”

We were doing an instrument approach at Williams Gateway Airport and I think he was paying more attention to my altimeter (I was supposed to be at 1880 feet) than anything else.

“That light,” I replied.

He saw the light. “No,” he said.

I didn’t believe him and asked him again. He repeated that he wasn’t responsible.

“Is the circuit breaker out?” I asked.

He looked down at the bank of circuit breakers at the base of his seat. “Yes.”

“Okay, it’s not a big deal,” I said. “It’s the auxiliary fuel pump. It’s a redundant system and we don’t need it for flight. The book says land as soon as practical. Do you want to push the circuit breaker back in?”

“No.”

(For the record, I would have.)

“Well, how about if we land here and have Kelly look at it?” I suggested. Kelly is my helicopter mechanic. By some unbelievable stroke of luck, we were landing at the airport where he was based and it wasn’t 5 PM yet.

He agreed that would be a good idea and talked to the tower for me. He then directed me to parking. I set it down in one of the helicopter parking spaces that Silver State uses. He pushed the circuit breaker back in. It popped back out. He got out to track down Kelly while I cooled down the engine and shut down.

Long story short: Kelly pulled off the side panel and found that one of the bolts on top of the fuel pump was loose. He removed the pump, bench tested it, tightened up the bolts, wrote up a logbook entry on a sticker for me, and sent us on our way. The whole process took a little more than an hour. The pump sounded much better when I primed the engine for startup and the light didn’t come on again as we did some more maneuvers at Williams Gateway and flew back to Scottsdale.

I passed the check ride. I like to think that the failed fuel pump helped me. It showed that I knew enough about the procedure to stay calm and make the right decision about it. In a way, it was a real-life “emergency” during the flight. Again, I don’t like to use the word emergency because there was never really any danger — unless, of course, the engine-driven fuel pump went bad, too. Then we’d have a problem.

Postscript

I flew back from Scottsdale with no further fuel pump problems.

The next day, I did a 50-minute scenic flight with two passengers on board. We were about 45 minutes into the flight — less than 5 miles from the airport — when the darn light came back on. I finished the tour — which was basically on the way to the airport anyway — and landed. When I pushed in the circuit breaker, it popped right out again.

When my passengers were on their way, I visited Ed, my local mechanic. I asked him to take a look at the pump when he had a chance, then put the helicopter away in my hangar, which is just down the row from his. He called with the bad news a while later. The pump was seized. I’d have to get a new one. I called the factory at 2:30 PM (their time) and managed to get it on a UPS truck for overnight (Saturday) delivery to Wickenburg. With luck, it’ll arrive as planned (Saturday deliver is a very iffy thing in Wickenburg) and Ed will put it in. I’ll be flying again on Sunday.

Unfortunately, it’ll take the flights I have scheduled on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday just to pay for the new pump.

Fuel Purchase Rebates for Pilots

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AOPA changes its program, I go to BP.

For years, I’ve been using my AOPA MasterCard to purchase fuel at FBOs. At first, the program offered 3% rebate on all purchases at participating FBOs. Then that percentage jumped to 5%. Since it cost nothing for an FBO to participate, just about all of them did.

Among the participating FBOs were flight schools. I earned rebate dollars on all of my helicopter flight training. Since most flight schools also do maintenance, I also earned rebates on most of my helicopter maintenance and repairs. Now we’re talking big bucks. With an annual inspection costing $2,000 or more, 5% is a truly welcome discount.

The AOPA rebate program had two problems, as far as I was concerned:

  • Rebates were not automatic. You had to go to the MBNA Web site (later the BofA Web site) to indicate which transactions were eligible. Although they probably assumed you’d look up all the FBOs in their list, I never did. I just checked off all the transactions — after all, I only used the card to buy aviation-related things — and let them figure out what was eligible or not. It was a pain in the butt because it required a trip to the Web site each month. If you forgot, that was okay — you could always do it later. But it was an extra step just to get the money.
  • Rebates were limited to $250 per year. If you do the math, that means only $5,000 of purchases could earn the rebate. I’d easily reach the limit by September or October each year. A helicopter flight student could reach it in a month or two, depending on his schedule. It would have been nicer if there were no limit.

On the plus side, the rebates, once requested and verified, showed up on the following credit card statement as a reduction of the account balance. I liked to think about it as a fuel discount and that’s how I accounted for it in my accounting records — a reduction of fuel expenses.

Well, the AOPA MasterCard moved to BofA when BofA bought MBNA. (Sounds like alphabet soup.) And they — either AOPA or BofA — decided to change the program. They now have some kind of point system that you can use to buy merchandise. Or something like that. Frankly, I didn’t look into the details. I don’t want points. I want dollars. I want to reduce my operating expenses.

Meanwhile, when I switched my maintenance to Silver State in Mesa (at Williams Gateway airport), I discovered that BP, which the FBO there represents, had a 5% rebate credit card with no limit that applied a sliding scale rate to purchases: 5% of BP purchases (at airports or auto gas stations), 2% of travel and dining, and 1% of other expenditures. Since BP is relatively common around airports, I signed up for the card and got it. Now I use that for most of my aviation-related expenses.

Well, it turns out that this Rebate program isn’t quite as convenient as it could be, either. (I think that’s how they get you — make it such a pain in the butt that you don’t bother claiming the rebate.) In order to get the rebate I have to:

  1. Create an account on the Chase.com Web site. (A one-time deal.)
  2. Log into my account periodically.
  3. Navigate to the Claim My Rewards area, which isn’t exactly easy to find.
  4. Use a shopping cart to “buy” rewards using my earned points. The options are a $25 BP Card (costing 25 points) that can only be used at BP gas stations (like I want one of those), a $25 check (costing 25 points), or a donation to charity (costing 25 points). Of course, since you can only buy in increments of 25 points, you’ll always have a balance leftover.
  5. Wait for the check(s) to arrive.
  6. Take the check(s) to the bank and deposit them.

Obviously, this isn’t the best solution either. But it does reduce my operating costs, so I do get the desired end result.

What I should do is look for a good rebate card that works everywhere and doesn’t make you work to get the rebate dollars. I’m sure they’re out there, but since I really hate applying for and having credit cards, I haven’t looked for them. I guess that should go on my To Do list for this year, right after clean off my desk.

Any suggestions? Use the Comments feature to let us know.

Flying for Bowl Games

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And keeping very busy.

My cell phone started ringing on Saturday and it didn’t stop. By Sunday afternoon, I was booked with a Grand Canyon day trip (from Phoenix Sky Harbor) on Monday, a one-hour Phoenix Tour from Scottsdale on Tuesday morning, and a 1-hour charter from Wickenburg on Wednesday. On Monday afternoon, while I was at the Grand Canyon with my passengers, the Phoenix tour turned into another Grand Canyon Charter. I turned down four Grand Canyon day trips and two Sedona day trips from the Phoenix area for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday because I was already booked. I couldn’t keep up with the messages that came in while I was airborne on Monday and Tuesday and on Tuesday morning, while at the Grand Canyon, I had to shut my phone off because my battery was nearly dead.

Why all the sudden interest in helicopter day trips and charters?

The bowl game that was held in Glendale on Monday night. Don’t ask me which Bowl game it was — I don’t follow football. I only know who played (Florida Gators and Ohio State) and who won (Florida) because my Monday passengers were Gators fans and my Tuesday passengers were disappointed Ohio fans.

Like so many Phoenix area businesses, I feasted on the influx of big budget tourists, folks who think nothing of dropping $2K for a day’s entertainment. In the case of the Grand Canyon day trips, both parties wanted to get to and see the Grand Canyon but had limited time for the visit. They simply didn’t want to make the 4-hour (each way) car ride from Phoenix. So they hired me to take them by helicopter — 1-1/2 hour from Scottsdale (each way) and 1-3/4 hour from Sky Harbor

Yesterday’s group didn’t have much time to spend at the canyon. We left Sky Harbor at 9 AM and arrived at Grand Canyon Airport barely in time for them to hop on a Papillon helicopter for a canyon overflight. Afterwards, we had an hour before we had to leave the Grand Canyon to get them back to the Phoenix area in time for their pre-game parties. They spent about 3/4 of that in Papillon’s gift shop. We did have time for a quick burger at Susy’s restaurant at Prescott Airport. I think they enjoyed that meal at a typical airport restaurant almost as much as the rest of their day. Of course, they probably enjoyed the game a lot more, since their team won.

Today’s group is just a father and his 10-year-old son who are here from Ohio for the game. They spent Sunday at Sedona and decided to fly with me to Grand Canyon for the day. I set them up with a Papillon tour and they got bumped up and upgraded to fly with Grand Canyon Helicopters (Papillon’s sister company), which flies much nicer equipment (EC130s). Although they were supposed to be on the short tour, they were put on the long tour and they apparently loved every minute of it. (What’s not to like?) We took the Xantera “taxi” to the park and I set them loose in front of El Tovar so they could walk the rim and have lunch on their own.

Now, at 1:30 PM, I’m sitting in the upper lounge (hotel guests only!), trying to produce something for my blog. There’s no wireless Internet here — and that’s a good thing. After all, I ‘m less than 300 feet from the rim of the canyon and shouldn’t even be looking at a computer. I’m meeting my passengers right outside at 3 PM for the return flight. I’ll have them back in Scottsdale by 5 PM and I’ll be shutting down on the ramp in Wickenburg before 6.

Yesterday’s flight was the first time I flew to the Grand Canyon from downtown Phoenix. It isn’t a particularly interesting flight. Not if you do a straight line, anyway. So I take little side trips. The highlight was probably the red rocks tour of Sedona about an hour into the flight. I flew my passengers past the airport and over town, then headed up the canyon where the tour operators there take their passengers. Near the end of the canyon, I pulled up, climbing at about 1,000 feet per minute to get over the edge of the Mongollon Rim. My front seat passenger was nervous, but he did okay. Then more relatively uninteresting stuff to the canyon. On the way back, I took them west of Bill Williams Mountain with a stop in Prescott, then down the east side of the Bradshaws. I showed them the ruins on Indian Mesa on Lake Pleasant before heading into Phoenix.

Got jets?Cutter Aviation, my FBO of choice at Sky Harbor, was a complete mob scene when I got there at around 3PM. Jets and other large aircraft were coming in for the game — last-minute folks who hadn’t come days before to enjoy the weekend. My helicopter was an insignificant speck on the ramp among all the jets. They started leading me to parking in a “Follow Me” car, then just drove away, leaving me to set down wherever I wanted to. I found a spot in the corner of their ramp with the Swift FBO jets parked behind me. I was only planning on being there for a few minutes, so I didn’t think it mattered too much where I parked. I escorted my passengers into the terminal there, pocketed a generous tip, said goodbye, and placed my fuel order for 20 gallons. The next guy asked for 1,680 gallons. It took a long time to fuel me, probably because the idiot with the truck was trying to fit it all in one tank. Meanwhile, big planes kept coming in and the FBO person in charge was getting more and more nervous by the minute. There were at least 50 people — pilots, national guard guys, police, limo drivers — you name it — in the Cutter terminal. The place was crazed and I wanted out. It was a pleasure to get clearance from Sky Harbor tower to follow the “river bottom” and head northwest once I’d passed Central Avenue. I logged 4.3 hours yesterday, which is more than I budget for those flights. Not a loss, but certainly not the kind of hourly rate I like to earn. My fault. I charged them my north valley rate; I should have charged for south valley, which is $200 more. The tip helped.

Today, I flew my passengers from Scottsdale, which is a shorter flight. We went past Jerome instead of Sedona on our way up. I’ll overfly Sedona with a Red Rocks tour on the way back. Scottsdale was also full of jets this morning, but I expect most of them to be gone by the time we return. At least I hope so.

It’s been nice visiting the GC these past two days. I got a chance to chat with a few old friends from Papillon yesterday: Tiny, who is now a lead pilot (he started the same season I did in 2004); Mark D, who wasn’t particularly chatty; Chuck R, who seemed embarrassed to see me; Borden, who is also friends with our good friends Elizabeth and Matt; and Evelyn. I was hoping to talk to Brenda about HAI, but she didn’t seem to be in. Today, I ran into Tom (who once rescued Mike and I from Indians — long story) at GC Helicopters, where he’s a pilot.

I had lunch at El Tovar today. It feels good to sit down and relax. Things are pretty quiet here and, if I had more time, I would have attempted a nap. Last night I had trouble staying awake until 8 PM — I was so exhausted. I’ll probably sleep well again tonight.

But the good news is, Flying M Air could shut down for the rest of the month and still be in good financial shape.

As for my blog…it’s being neglected. But I’ll get back to it soon.

Aviation Weather 1.2.5

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A Dashboard widget for pilots.

I’ve used this widget in the past and really like it. It uses your Internet connection to retrieve official TAF and METAR information for airports you enter into its interface.

From Aviation Weather 1.2.5 on Dashboard widgets:

About Aviation Weather Get current weather conditions as well as weather forecasts with the “Aviation Weather” dashboard widget. The widget shows weather data (METAR and TAF) which is used by pilots for their flight preparations. ”Aviation Weather” lets you choose any airport weather stations from its built-in database by either name or ICAO (4-letter) code. Data will be shown in its original format or translated into easy understandable texts. You can define up to 4 preset stations.

The preset feature is handy. Just program in the four airports you visit most and getting the weather at your destination is as quick as two clicks. Highly recommended for pilots.

Flying to Sedona (again)

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A helicopter flight that has become routine.

As I write this, 36% of the site visitors who have taken the time to vote in my Most Interesting Topics Poll (that’s 11 people so far; I’m hoping for continued growth in that vote count) have said that Flying is the most interesting topic on this site. So I decided to devote this morning’s blog session to a flying article.

(For those of you just tuning in for the first time, among the hats I wear is a commercial helicopter pilot hat. I operate a Single Pilot Part 135 helicopter tour and charter company out of Wickenburg, AZ — Flying M Air.)

I flew yesterday. I flew three passengers from Wickenburg to Sedona and back. The passengers were originally from Russia and now live in the U.K. They’re staying at the Flying E Ranch, one of Wickenburg’s remaining three guest ranches.

I can’t get excited about this flight. It was so routine. After all, by now I must have flown from Wickenburg to Sedona and back at least 50 times.

The only thing unusual about the flight yesterday was visibility. In Arizona, it’s clear and sunny almost every day. Not only can I usually see the Weaver Mountains about 15 miles to the north, but I can usually see them clearly — that means I can distinguish rocks and canyons and other features from 15 miles away. But yesterday was different. It was hazy, as if a thin gauze had been stretched across my eyes. As I drove to the airport at about 10:00, it was apparent why: there was moisture in the air. There was condensation on my Jeep and even a little frost down where the horses were munching their morning meal. Imagine that. Moisture.

My passengers arrived early, all bundled up for the 50°F temperatures we expected in Sedona. After giving them their preflight briefing and loading them on board, I started the helicopter and waited for it to warm up. A few minutes later, we were on our way, climbing to the northeast into hazy skies.

The air was smooth, the sights were the same as usual (except for the haze) and I pointed them out faithfully to my passengers. They didn’t talk much, which is always a danger with me. I wind up talking to fill the silence, telling them more about the area than I usually do. I had three passengers on board, so I had to make sure I pointed out things on both sides of the helicopter — normally, with just two on board, I put them on the same side of the helicopter so I only have to point out things on one side.

We crossed the Weaver Mountains not far from the hidden cabins I’d discovered years before. Then we followed the Hassayampa River up toward Prescott, crossing the Bradshaws. My passengers were thrilled by the sight of snow on the north side of the moutains. I was thrilled by the fact that the haze had cleared out and it was a nice, clear day up there.

As we got close to town, I reported in to the tower at Prescott Airport. I planned to follow Route 69 a bit and then head toward the pass atop Mingus Mountain. This would have me cutting as much as one mile into Prescott’s airspace. (I normally go around it so I don’t have to talk to the tower, but our heavy weight had our airspeed a bit slower than usual and I wanted to save a few minutes of time.) We were over Prescott Valley when the tower pointed out a Baron about 400 feet above us, crossing in front of us. I descended about 500 feet — I was high because of all the mountains I’d have to cross — to stay out of his way. Then the tower cut me loose and I climbed up and over Mingus Mountain, reaching my highest elevation of the flight: about 8,000 feet.

West SedonaFrom there, I started a 1,000 fpm descent to the northwest, descending past the former ghost town of Jerome. I told my passengers about the first time I’d been there nearly 20 years ago when only a handful of people lived there. Now it was a booming tourist town, with art galleries and restaurants in the old buildings perched along its hillside. I showed them the open pit mine, then continued northwest to the red rocks. We did a red rocks tour on the way into Sedona, avoiding the flight path of the helicopter tour operators there, and landed at the airport.

Uneventful.

Of course, I’d been so concerned with getting my credit card terminal to work at the airport that I’d forgotten to bring a book or my laptop so I’d have something to do while my passengers went on their Jeep tour. Duh. After the Jeep picked them up, I walked over to Sedona’s restaurant for lunch. (I don’t think I can recommend the Chicken Alfredo with Broccoli; too thick and starchy, although the chicken was cooked nicely.) Then back to the terminal to wait.

I wound up renting a car from the car rental guy there. $20 for up to 3 hours (I think). I didn’t even have it two hours. I drove down off Airport Mesa and hit the New Frontiers grocery store at the bottom of the hill. It has a magnificent selection of cheese and a very knowledgeable cheese guy behind the counter. I tasted some cheeses and wound up buying them all. I also bough brussels sprouts on the stalk — something that’s simply not available in Wickenburg.Then into “uptown” Sedona to visit a bookstore (the Worm) which seemed to have fewer books than I remember. And coffee at the coffee shop across the street. Then back to the airport so I’d be there when my passengers returned.

I talked to everyone who worked at the airport. The car rental guy, the AZ Adventures helicopter tour guys, the FBO guys, and the Maverick helicopter tour guy. That kept me busy even after my passengers returned from the Jeep tour and went to have lunch at the airport restaurant. By 3:30 PM, they were back and it was time to go.

The return trip was almost as routine. The haze had moved in a bit and we were flying right into the sun. My hat was under my seat, so I had to shade my eyes with my hand once in a while. Instead of heading straight for the southern end of Mingus Mountain, we headed southeast to Oak Creek Village. My front seat passenger had his camera out and the red rocks were being illuminated by that gently filtered afternoon sun. The views out that side of the helicopter were great. I flew just past Oak Creek VIllage before turning to the southwest, back into the sun. The mountains rose as dark shapes silhouetted against the hazy light.

I didn’t have as much to say on the way back. Part of that was my intercom system, which was creating static again. (I have to fix that! It’s driving me nuts!) So I had the squelch set so it was less likely to make noise. My passengers weren’t talking anyway. They were just looking; the daughter, who was probably close to 18 years old, had her iPod on under her headset and probably wouldn’t have heard what we were saying anyway.

The farther south we flew, the worse the haze got. It was definitely brownish in color toward the Phoenix area — smog trapped in an inversion. At one point, we could clearly see a dark line in the sky that marked the inversion layer. Very unusual.

I flew them over Crown King, a tiny town in the Bradshaw Mountains. The main reason I go that way on the way back is that you can normally see Wickenburg Airport from the Crown King area — a distance of about 23 nautical miles. But not yesterday. The haze was so complete that if I didn’t have my GPS set to Wickenburg (or at least a heading in mind) I would have strayed off course. I simply couldn’t see that far away. Even Lake Pleasant was difficult to see from the air, although I did point it out for my passengers as we flew about 10 miles north of its northern edge.

We were over the Monte Cristo mine on Constellation Road when I was still trying to figure out exactly where we were. When I saw the mine shaft and buildings, I thought I’d stumbled upon a mine I’d never seen before. Then I recognized it and was surprised that we were so close to town. Less than 10 miles to the airport, according to my GPS. I could just about make out reflections downtown and the scars of the earth around the airport.

I flew over town and then headed out to Flying E to show them the ranch where they were staying from the air. (That’s something I do for people staying in our local hotels and guest ranches.) Then we landed by the fuel pumps at the airport. I cooled down and shut down.

Routine.

After a while, flying the same route over and over does become routine or — dare I say it? — boring. Sedona is a place of incredible beauty and the best way to appreciate its beauty is to see it from the air. Yet when you’ve seen it as many times as I have, the impact of all that beauty fades. That’s one of the things I talked to the FBO guys in Sedona about. They both agreed that when they’d first come to Sedona, they were amazed at its beauty. Now, living with it all around them every day, it simply isn’t a big deal.

I felt like that when I flew at the Grand Canyon, too. Don’t get me wrong — it never got so boring that I’d prefer to fly elsewhere. I just wished I had the freedom to alter my flight path for a slightly different view or a new way of seeing things.

And here in Wickenburg. The upstairs front windows of my home look out over the Weaver Mountains in the distance. When I first moved into the house, I thought it was a view I’d never grow tired of. But I did. Kind of. I’m not sure why.

I’d be interested in hearing from other pilots who fly in beautiful places and have somehow lost sight of that beauty because of routine. Use the Comments link.