Flight Review
I just completed my BFR recently. In the US the FAA requires a biannual flight review (BFR) for pilots. The FAA requires at least one hour of ground instruction and one hour of air work at a minimum. My instructor and I had already flown some air work before this flight: steep turns, a set of stalls (and stall recoveries), a steep spirals, chandelles, lazy eights, and some short and soft field landings on an actual short and soft field of grass.
The chandelles and lazy eights are commercial pilot maneuvers and aren’t normally taught to private pilots. But I was interested and I plan to do more advanced ratings at some point in the future. The steep spiral was my instructor’s idea, it’s useful to descend from altitude after climbing in the chandelle.
We started off this flight with another ground lesson. Since both the instructor and I fly from within the Washington D.C. ADIZ an ADIZ review was in order. We both want to avoid any ADIZ infractions. We reviewed weather briefings and NOTAMS (Notices To Airmen) via DUATs, examined the local TAC (chart), and generally discussed the mechanics of flying and of flying in this area. We did this till my instructor was convinced that I generally know what I’m doing and could do it safely.
This might sound like some wasted time, perhaps just a re-hash of what I already know. But it is a useful part of the process. It’s a review of what I do know - that refreshes it in my mind. It also is an opportunity to learn anything new I might have missed in my normal reading - some aspects of the new NOTAM format for example. I also consider it a golden opportunity to ask any relevant question about flying to an experienced pilot who’s both knowledgeable and is an excellent instructor. And anyone who knows me is aware of all the questions I can ask. One of the reasons I like this instructor is that he’s willing to keep answering questions till I run out.
Different instructors have different strategies, this guy is pretty low-key and easy going. Enough so that it took me a lesson or two in the past with him to figure out his strategy. He mentions things “that I might want to try”. From him, that’s a “do this, it’ll work better” command.
I’d already preflighted the plane but left it safely tied down before I met up with my instructor. I’d also already filed my ADIZ flight plan both for leaving the ADIZ and for re-entering at the end of our flight. So, when we were done with our ground work we proceeded to the plane and got ready.
We take off and departed the airport. My instructor’s watching what I do and making his “you might want to try” type comments occasionally. I’m talking through what I do so he knows what I’m thinking and why I’m doing things. On the way out we discuss climbs and leaning procedures. He’s also point out some an interesting local site or two or landmarks for the local airspace. This is partly to cover those topics but it’s also to see if he can distract me from my flying too. How I handle distractions is important. We stay on course and altitude so that seems to work well enough.
He tells me to tune a frequency. I try to tune it as a voice frequency first, nope it’s too low, so I tune it in the VOR receiver. I should have caught that. (VOR is a type of radio navigation beacon.) He tells me to head to that beacon. I spin the VOR inidicator’s knob to find it’s heading, then turn toward it. We have a little discussion about setting up the VOR indicator. I learned it from an engineering perspective (as usual for me) and so read it a little differently from many pilots. There’s no problem since I head the same directions they do, but it often bugs people who learned VORs a different way. My instructor simply points out some reasons why - in instrument flight - you want things as easy as possible and my way isn’t necessarily the easiest.
Then the foggles come out. These are a view-limiting device so I can see only the instruments, not the outside. This simulates that I’m flying in clouds and can’t see the ground. Well, I’m a VFR pilot so I live and breath by looking out the window. But all pilots - even VFR guys - have to know how to get out of a cloud if they stumble in one. It’s a useful survival skill. Also, my instructor knows I’m interested in getting instrument training later too. So, it’s good practice for several reasons.
We continue to track the VOR while I keep things straight and level, this time without seeing the world but just the gauges. My instructor continues to watch for traffic since I cannot. Then he gives me a few turns and a climb to see how that goes. I clear the turns with my instructor. I get a comment about turn rates. Slower turn rates create less problems - another way of making thing easy on myself.
Now, the scenario: I’ve just left an airport we’re more or less near to, but I’ve stumbled into clouds. I can see the airport location on my GPS, and I knew it was clear at the airport. I need to get back there and land. Oh, by the way, I’ll have a simulated engine failure when I get over that airport.
So I determine the direction to the airport and start my turn back. Partway through that turn, my instructor tells me to close my eyes and continue the turn. He’ll tell me when to straighten out.
Uh, what? Close my eyes? It takes me a moment to persuade myself to do that. I continue my turn with my eyes closed.
I start listening to the engine. If I climb, it’ll slow down. If I descend, it’ll speed up. But on the bank of the airplane I’ve got little to go on. I’m just trying to feel it and I know that’s not accurate at all. My instructor is simulating the John Kennedy Jr accident with me now.
I’m told to straighten out now. At this point, I’m used to turning to the right. That is, my semicircular canals have adjusted so it feels like I’m going straight now. I turn back level by trying to remember how much the turn felt in my hands. But now, I feel like I’m turning the other way. I try to trust my hands.
The engine sound slows. I push the yoke forward a little and it soon speeds up again. But, then it speeds up a bit too much, I pull back just a bit. Just trying to keep everything balanced. But I know that I’m no bird - I’ve got no built-in balance detector meant for flying. I’m evolutionarily built for standing, walking, and running. Without my instruments or a visible horizon I can be in trouble.
After a few minutes, I get to open my eyes. I’m 200 feet higher than I started out and banked ten degrees right. And off my heading. A little more of that I would have slowly entered a right spiral that would have continued to confuse my senses. And, as the plane sped up I might have pulled back the yoke, and ended up with a stall leading to a spin. Trust my instruments, they’re smarter than I am in sensing. That’s the lesson.
Over the airport I pull the throttle to idle (and put carb heat on) and finally I get to pull off the foggles and look outside again. Whadda ya know, just like the GPS said I’m right over the airport and I slow to an approach speed and start my descent to pattern altitude. I call on the radio to the general (CTAF) frequency (there’s no tower here) and tell them I’m in a simulated emergency.
As I start my second spiral a helicopter calls inbound. No problem, they can slow and they say they will, we’re there first and will land first. I’m a bit high on the final so I dump all 40 degrees of flaps and keep the nose down to maintain speed. I land a bit further down than I wanted to, but it all worked out.
I power up to taxi back and we take off again after the helicopter lands. While they’re doing that, we discuss safe distances from a helicopter’s downwash. Time to head home for a no-flaps landing and debrief.
In the end, I’ve got some things to work on. Improvement is an ongoing thing, there’s always something I can do better. I’ll continue to do so, but for now I’m official again.