Almost Upside Down At Night
Below is a MRR and PLR article in category Recreation Sports -> subcategory Tennis.
Almost Upside Down at Night
Title:
Almost Upside Down at NightSummary:
During flight training, you might occasionally think your instructor is harsh or uninformed. This story is about a night cross-country flight with a student that illustrates the importance of practical experience over reliance on technology.Keywords:
Learn to Fly, Pilot License, Pilot Training, Private Pilot, Flying StoriesArticle Body:
In flight training, it's inevitable that you'll sometimes question your instructor's techniques. You might feel they're being unreasonable or misguided, although probably not too boldly. This brings to mind a memorable night cross-country flight with a student.
The flight itself was straightforward and suited for night flying, taking us from Mesa Falcon Field to Wickenburg, Arizona. I included this route in my syllabus for several reasons. However, I've had disagreements with instructors who opted for easier destinations, such as Tucson, instead. Choosing an illuminated, bustling route misses the essence of night cross-country flying and the unique challenges it presents.
Don't let your instructor choose an easy, well-lit destination. Instead, opt for a location that's a bit challenging for you to find, though not for your instructor. While safety is paramount, you should be exposed to scenarios that require full attention and problem-solving.
Now, back to my story.
Let's call the student John. I'm not fond of relying heavily on technology for private pilot training. As a pilot, your primary task is to fly the plane. It takes around 500 hours to internalize this instinct, and even then, challenging situations are like a mental tug-of-war.
John contacted me regarding his night flight, confirming the timing. At the end of the conversation, he mentioned his new Garmin 95 GPS device and asked if he could bring it along. As you might guess, my answer was no.
John arrived at the airport with his cross-country plan and flight plan filed, ready to go. But before we left the office, out came his shiny new Garmin box. "Fred, you've got to see this! It's the Garmin 95, top-of-the-line!" This was back in 1996 when Garmin was just entering the market.
After some persuading, I reluctantly agreed to let him bring it along. Deep down, I sensed this would be a valuable lesson. Before the pre-flight, John was already setting up his new GPS on the control column. I knew then we were in for an interesting experience. I allowed him to turn it on only after leaving Phoenix airspace, where it starts to get very dark. He agreed without issue.
We took off as planned, heading west. John was perfect with his checkpoints and timings, earning an A+ at this stage. Once five miles west of Deer Valley Airport, where darkness truly sets in, John eagerly asked if he could turn on the GPS. I agreed, knowing the real lesson was about to begin.
John activated the GPS and exclaimed, "Look, Fred, isn't this great? It tells you everything!" Internally, I thought, "Except your main job: fly the airplane."
Initially, John was doing fine, following the GPS lines. But soon, the device became a distraction from flying. He started experimenting with the GPS screen options, causing variability in altitude?"not drastic at first, but it was a sign of things to come.
John's focus shifted entirely to the GPS. Within less than a minute, his aircraft started a subtle right turn into the mountains, losing altitude without his awareness. There was no visible horizon, leaving John oblivious to the situation. Fortunately, he’d previously taken my aerobatic training option, so he was familiar with dealing with unusual attitudes, albeit not at night.
The plane gradually spiraled at cruise power. I hoped the wind noise might alert him, but it didn’t. Eventually, the bank steepened, and at night, letting him go upside down wasn't an option. I finally intervened, asking, "Anything wrong?"
Filled with panic, John realized the urgency, leveling the plane but still heading dangerously towards the mountains. With our lost altitude, a crash seemed imminent.
I upped my volume slightly: "If you can't see anything, you're in trouble. Find some light, start climbing, and head in that direction."
John regained control, switched off the GPS, and we completed our flight to Wickenburg uneventfully. Back at Falcon Field, John reflected, "I need to focus on flying first, and GPS later." He even asked for more night training, which I highly recommend.
The lesson here is to prioritize flying the airplane. John's distraction by the GPS compromised his primary responsibility. If you insist on using gadgets, ensure you're proficient with them beforehand, especially at night.
Disorientation can strike swiftly and severely. It happened to me despite possessing all my ratings, and it took a few minutes to regain composure.
Remember this simple unusual attitude recovery check:
- Airspeed High or "I hear the wind":
1. Power Back
2. Wings Level
3. Nose Level
4. Once stable, restore power, altitude, and heading
- Airspeed Low:
1. Nose Forward
2. Wings Level
3. Once descending, add power
For nighttime flying, you're often battling with limited visibility?"get trained in night unusual attitudes, and practice until responses are instinctive.
Choose challenging and dark routes for your cross-country night flying experience.
You can find the original non-AI version of this article here: Almost Upside Down At Night.
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