N631S

Nothing to Report

2012-02-07T16:48:00.000-05:00

We approach the end of winter, and it has been a really remarkable season in the Northeast. (Meteorological winter is defined to encompass the three calender months having the lowest mean temperatures, i.e. December, January and February – at least here in the northern hemisphere.) We're 10 weeks into that span with only three more weeks to go. And flying over Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut on Monday, I saw no evidence of snow cover at all. None. Zero. That's remarkable.

Since the season began on 1 December, N631S and I have been able to make the trip between KBDR and KVKX seven times in each direction, of a possible ten. That's a much better dispatch rate than we've achieved in the previous couple of winters. (At left, the flight southbound for Christmas weekend.) There was one weather related diversion in December, recounted in these two posts, but that was a result of fog, not the wintry stuff endemic to the period.

And it's been warm. Out of seven Friday afternoon departures from KBDR since 1 December I've only once needed to have my friends at Three Wing Flying Services hook up N631S's Tanis pre-heat system – meaning that every other time the temperature was above 40ºF. I've used the pre-heat system a few times of a Monday morning, after a 6:00 AM arrival at KVKX, but never due to anything lower than about 30ºF. In short it's been quite mild.

Of course I'm not complaining. A look into my logbook for the last ten weeks shows many entries that are variations on the theme: "IFR in VMC; uneventful." And of course uneventful is good! But it doesn't provide a great deal of fodder for posts on this blog having the potential to entertain and enlighten my occasional visitor. Still, I'll take the deal.

There are three weeks left in the season and almost certainly I'll find myself on Amtrak a time or two. And then March may be anything but benign...time will tell. However, at the risk of appalling my friends from the midwest, the Mountain States, or Pacific northwest (who have had, of late, far more entertaining weather) I can say that the Winter of 2011-12 already belongs in the "Win" column and I'll hope for one just like it next year.

Book Review: "The Map of My Dead Pilots" by Colleen Mondor

2012-01-25T11:13:00.000-05:00

I have no standing to remark on a book about flying in Alaska. I have not endured the awful cold, withstood the cutting wind, peered into the frozen fog. Like everyone else, I've seen the photos – watched the films – read the stories. But of course, there are stories and there are stories.

"The Map of My Dead Pilots"
by Colleen Mondor; 242pp.
Lyons Press, 2012

Early in the 1990's, with a degree in Aviation Management and a need to expand the boundaries of her life, Florida-girl Colleen Mondor went to Alaska and took a job as a Dispatcher for an air-charter company (what aviators refer to as a Part 135 operation) in Fairbanks. For seven years she scheduled aircraft, typed manifests, wrangled customers, pitched in on the ramp and soaked up the reality of Alaskan aviation. And she befriended pilots and got to know them, and watched as they departed in ragged, challenging Alaska weather. And dined and drank with them when they returned. And drank with their friends when they didn't.

She earned a graduate degree in History while she worked in Alaska, studying the origins of Aviation in the Far North. She learned about Eielson and Merrill and the Wiens and other legendary names, not just accepting the stories that sustain the legends, but delving into contemporaneous sources from the 1920's.

She's blended this historical knowledge with the perceptions derived from her personal experience, allowing it all to simmer for a decade, and has now given us something more than a mémoire. The Map of My Dead Pilots has a tremendous immediacy and the ring of truth. It's for people who have shivered in Alaskan cold to comment on the accuracy of Ms. Mondor's details, but she gets the airplane stuff spot on. This is a hard book to put down.

And, oh yes, the lady can write. Within the bounds of fair use, here's a taste:

"But then there was this.
When Henry Smoke passed away in the hospital, his family asked the Company to send Tony home with the body. They wanted a pilot who knew Henry and could call him by name. Tony had been flying in and out of the Upper Yukon for years, and Henry was the Company's agent in Stevens Village forever. The two of them went way back. When Tony landed in the Navajo, most of the folks from Stevens and the surrounding villages were on the ramp waiting for the plane. They unloaded the heavy, ornate casket, placed Henry down in the back of a waiting truck, and then drove slowly away. Tony waited until he was the only one left at the airport before he started up the engines. He said later he wanted to preserve the quiet for as long as possible – he wanted to keep the ground holy.
Tony was not a religious man, but there you go. For Henry Smoke, that was the word he thought of.
He said later he was glad he took that flight, that they asked for him. He packed Henry's flight away with the ones to keep with him, and when Tony left Alaska he had well over ten thousand hours of flight time, but Henry Smoke was the only body he knew by name."

The Map of My Dead Pilots is an elegant mémoire of the author's years spent in the service of Alaskan commercial aviation. Its stories are informed by her knowledge of the historical background. But the book is more than a compendium of interesting stories.

It becomes an exploration of the variability of memory, the plasticity over time of historical information, and the malleability of stories depending on the needs of the teller and the audience. The author's tale is one of striving for the truth and learning that truth can only be approached as an asymptotic limit.

There are stories and there are stories. Ms. Mondor tells her stories as accurately as memory and circumstance allow, and she leaves the reader (I believe) with an understanding of the truth of flying in Alaska.

Happy New Year (with a look back)

2011-12-31T23:24:00.000-05:00

This is the third year that I've used this post title on 31 December. A year ago, I looked back on 2010 in this post, and a year earlier I reviewed 2009 in this one.

N631S finished the year with 4,207.3 hours on the tach, having flown 175.8 hours in 2011. That's really very close to the 2010 total of 177.9 hours. I made the round trip from KVKX in Maryland to KBDR in Connecticut and back 34 times this year, three and a half fewer than last year. That's in addition to a trip from the DC area down to the Carolina Outer Banks, thence inland to Nashville and back to home plate.

I logged 10.0 hours in actual IMC (instrument meteorological conditions) this year, compared with 2010's 12.9 hours. The weather has been good! The down-side of this is that this year's total of 10 instrument approaches flown in actual conditions is down from last year by four. Time logged as night this year was 10.2 hours, not materially different from last year's 9.2.

Since N631S came to us in 2004, it has been a remarkably reliable machine. But age may be catching up with it a bit, for this year has been – shall we say – maintenance intensive:

In February, the alternator was replaced.
During the Annual Inspection in April, the voltage regulator was replaced.
Also at Annual, the 121.5 MHz ELT was replaced.
In May, replaced the pilot's Push-to-Talk switch.
In July, replaced the left fuel bladder.
In November, replaced the switch, circuit beaker, flasher and lamp for the rotating beacon.
In December, a new battery, and tagged "Inop" the activation switch for the GPSS module.

And the last item in the above list calls for a mea culpa from me regarding the recent absence of posts here. The December weather has been remarkably cooperative, allowing flight from KBDR to KVKX on the Friday before Christmas (with due attention paid to potential icing), then a return to KBDR after the holiday weekend, and finally, back to the DC area this Friday past to end the year. Each of these trips was completed uneventfully. Let me just offer this video clip, collected over central New Jersey whilst headed south at 6,000 feet on the 23rd, just above the solid, cold and icy undercast. As always, ATC was concerned and helpful:

And finally, may I wish all who may visit here a healthy, prosperous and safe 2012.

Life's Little Annoyances

2011-12-22T20:40:00.002-05:00

It's been one of those weeks.

On Monday morning, I got to Potomac Airfield (KVKX) early – before 6:00 AM local time. The temperature was 28ºF, so I immediately plugged in the Tanis pre-heat system and the quartz heater for the cabin. An hour of that and I'd be on my way.

A few minutes before 0700 I collected my clearance then disconnected the heaters and pulled N631S out of the hangar. And after a bit more housekeeping, got on with the starting program. And achieved no success at all. The voltage readout said 10.4v and the propeller said, "I don't think so."

I called Potomac Approach's Mt. Vernon Sector to let them know I would not be popping up on their scope when expected, and then I called Dan Fragassi at Clinton Aero Maintenance and asked if he would kindly drive over from Hyde Field with a spare battery and a Cessna jumper cable to get me started. Dan said, "Be right there," and thirty minutes later, there he was. Another five minutes and N631S was started and underway.

The good news of the morning was that there was a spanking tailwind yielding ground speeds of about 160 knots as I headed north. Soon N631S and I were over New Jersey and talking to Atlantic City Approach. Soon after checking on with A.C. Approach I heard, "Cessna 631 Sierra, turn 20º left, this will be a vector to Coyle." Cool! A shortcut! I clicked off the S-TEC GPSS module that was allowing the Garmin 530W to control the S-TEC System 50 autopilot – leaving the autopilot in Heading mode – and rolled the heading bug to the left.

Soon, the controller issued "direct Coyle" and I made the necessary key-presses on the 530W and clicked the switch to turn on the GPSS function. And for the second time that morning, the machine said, "I don't think so." No joy – the switch was ineffective.

I completed the trip using manual control of the autopilot in heading mode, and hoping that this wasn't a case of things coming in threes. Two failures in one day were sufficient. On arrival at Sikorsky Memorial (KBDR), after N631S was covered and tied down, I asked Three Wing maintenance to have a look at the battery and at the GPSS switch.

When I checked back with them early on Wednesday morning the news was not wonderful. '31S's battery was not happy. The battery is a Gill G-35 flooded electrode unit (see left) a bit more than two years old. I was told that it seemed to charge satisfactorily but that the electrolyte was discolored and they were concerned about the condition of the electrodes. I fly enough at night in the winter that I don't want to take chances with the condition of the battery so I asked them to install a new one. Hey, it's only money.

The situation with the GPSS switch was more interesting. Dave, the avionics tech, had verified that the switch had failed but they were having difficulty sourcing a new one. I asked for the part number and then queried the collective intelligence of the Cessna Pilots Association on-line forum about finding a switch.

I quickly learned that a new switch (the widget on top in the picture at left) would be available directly from S-TEC for a mere (gasp!) $957.00. That's a little extreme, so I've decided that I'll placard the GPSS as "inop" for a while and see how I like getting along without it.

Subsequently, I've been informed that S-TEC can repair the switches for about $350 (if it isn't completely fried) and I suspect that I'll probably take advantage of that while N631S is down for its annual inspection next spring.

And meanwhile, the weather for this week's trip south looks a bit iffy. As I type this, it's Thursday evening and the Terminal Area Forecast for KBDR looks like this:

 
KBDR 222330Z 2300/2324 VRB04KT P6SM FEW030 SCT050 BKN150 
     FM230300 08006KT P6SM SCT025 BKN040 OVC080 
     FM230600 06008KT 6SM -SHRA BR FEW007 BKN020 OVC040 
     FM230800 03010KT 3SM RA BR OVC006 
     TEMPO 2308/2311 1SM RA BR OVC004 
     FM231100 01011KT 5SM -RA BR BKN015 BKN030 
     FM231500 35010KT P6SM SCT025 BKN040 
     FM231900 34009KT P6SM FEW025 SCT040

According to this, for tomorrow afternoon I should expect good visibility, a few clouds at 2,500 feet and a scattered layer at 4,000 feet. Conditions to the south are forecast to be a bit better. That's flyable, even with cold temperatures aloft, but the forecast is dependent on some fairly nasty overnight weather clearing out to the east on schedule. Time will tell, and as "Plan B" I have an AMTRAK reservation in my pocket.

More About the Fog

2011-12-07T19:44:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's post describes an encounter on Monday with dense fog at Bridgeport (KBDR) and the resulting diversion to Waterbury-Oxford (KOXC). It includes the observation that neither the arrival of the fog, nor its persistence, were effectively incorporated in the Terminal Area Forecasts (TAF's) issued for KBDR.

Today I had an exchange on Google+ on the subject with Scott Dennstaedt. Scott is a former National Weather Service (NWS) research meteorologist and the guiding genius behind AvWxWorkshops.com, an excellent source of weather wisdom. He suggested that a comparatively obscure NWS product, the Area Forecast Discussion (AFD), might have helped me to "crack the code" when I was trying to sort out the effects of the fog using the TAF's.

The AFD's are produced by each Forecast Office (Bridgeport is covered by the office at Upton, NY on Long Island) and each AFD includes an Aviation section. The current AFD for the Upton office (OKX) can be seen HERE. Scott was kind enough to send me the Aviation portions of the AFD's that covered the time of interest on Monday.

As I noted yesterday, at 5:00 AM local time Monday KBDR was already fogged in. The TAF extant at that time was predicting that the fog would clear by 9:00 AM (14Z) while the AFD fretted about fog "over much of the area":

 
350 AM EST MON DEC 5 2011
.AVIATION /09Z MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY/...
MAIN CONCERN THIS MORNING WILL BE FOG/LOW STRATUS OVER MUCH OF
THE AREA. NYC TERMINALS GENERALLY RANGE FROM IFR TO VFR...
WITH EWR VSBYS AS LOW AS VLIFR. OUTSIDE OF THE NYC
TERMINALS...CONDITIONS VARY WITH VSBYS AS LOW AS 1/4 MILE TO
OVER 3 MILES. WITH FOG CONDITIONS CHANGING...
IT IS DIFFICULT TO FORECAST JUST HOW MUCH CONDITIONS IMPROVE
TO WORSEN HOUR TO HOUR...THEREFORE AMENDMENTS ARE LIKELY
AND SHOULD BE EXPECTED THROUGH 12Z.

The forecaster pointed out that the behavior of the fog was difficult to forecast, which I knew well from experience. Still, the TAF came down on the side of the fog being gone by 14Z.

14Z came and went, with no sign of the fog dissipating. An amended TAF valid at 14Z extended the period where fog was considered likely to 15Z, projecting significant improvement thereafter. The Discussion in support of that TAF was still optimistic about improving conditions, but a new AFD issued just before 15Z – shortly after N631S and I had taken off and flown north – incorporated new pessimism:

 
956 AM EST MON DEC 5 2011
.AVIATION /15Z MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY/...
A COLD FRONT OVER THE ERN GREAT LAKES WILL TRACK SLOWLY THRU
THE AREA TNGT. RIBBON OF IFR ACROSS THE METRO THIS MRNG.
THERE IS EVIDENCE OF SOME UPSTREAM CLEARING...AND WILL
CONTINUE TO EXPECT VFR THIS AFTN. EXACT TIMING OF THIS
CONVERSION REMAINS LOW CONFIDENCE...AND AMENDMENTS HAVE
SLOWED DOWN IMPROVEMENT.

So the AFD's offered through 14Z would not have kept me from departing, while those from 15Z onward might have inspired second thoughts.

As recounted yesterday, N631S and I arrived at KBDR about 1715Z, missed on the ILS Runway 6 approach (when the weather was 1/2 mile and 200 feet), held for a while and diverted to KOXC. We landed there about 1745Z. By that time the 18Z TAF was out and it called for low IFR conditions (a mile and 300 feet) through until 10 AM Tuesday, except for brief periods of slightly better conditions during the afternoon. The supporting AFD had this to add:

 
1252 PM EST MON DEC 5 2011
.AVIATION /18Z MONDAY THROUGH SATURDAY/...
A COLD FRONT OVER THE ERN GREAT LAKES WILL TRACK SLOWLY
TOWARDS THE AREA TNGT. AREA REMAINS SOCKED IN WITH LLVL
MOISTURE THRU THE TAF PERIOD. TAFS INDICATE MAINLY IFR...
HOWEVER SOME BREAKS TO VFR ARE EXPECTED THIS AFTN. THIS
HAS BEEN HANDLED WITH A TEMPO. CIGS LOWER AGAIN
TNGT. SOME -RA POSSIBLE TUE AS THE FRONT GETS CLOSER.
CIGS/VSBY FCST THRU 00Z REMAINS LOW CONFIDENCE...IN
PART DUE TO MID CLOUD COVER OBSCURING LOW CLOUDS ON STLT.

This discussion certainly casts a shadow over the TAF. In fact, the ceiling at KBDR went up to 400 feet for about 1/2 hour mid-afternoon (long enough for N631S and I to make an unsuccessful attempt to sneak into Bridgeport) and promptly went back down to 200 feet, there to stay overnight.

The Area Forecast Discussions are a useful tool, giving insight into the forecaster's thoughts and level of confidence. But having reviewed them, I don't think that they would have changed any of my decisions on Monday. The forecaster's multiple references to "low confidence" in aspects of the TAF's do reinforce the notion that the behavior of fog is hard to predict.

"On little cat feet"

2011-12-06T18:44:00.001-05:00

Sunday evening it all looked good for a Monday morning flight from the DC area to Connecticut. Temperatures aloft were going to be warm enough for me to file for an altitude of 7,000 feet – fairly unusual for December. The Terminal Area Forecast (TAF) for Bridgeport issued at 9:00 PM (02Z) suggested that the weather on arrival at KBDR would be reasonable:

 
KBDR 050209Z 0502/0524 VRB04KT 1 1/2SM BR SCT030 BKN250
   TEMPO 0502/0505 3SM BR 
   FM050500 20005KT 2SM BR BKN025
   FM050800 VRB03KT 2SM BR SCT005 OVC010 
   FM051400 22005KT P6SM SCT010 OVC040 
   FM051600 22007KT P6SM SCT040 OVC150
   FM051900 22008KT P6SM OVC040=

The plan was to depart soon after 7:00 AM (12Z) for the roughly 2 hour trip. For a 14Z arrival I could expect good visibility, scattered clouds at 1,000 feet and an overcast at 4,000. And conditions were forecast to continue improving. I turned in feeling good about the flight.

My first indication that all might not be well came when, on arising at oh-dark-30 (actually 5:00 AM), I checked the METAR at KBDR:

 
METAR KBDR 050952Z 00000KT 1/4SM FG VV002 07/05 A3036 RMK AO2 SLP279 T00670050=

This was not good. The fog, without being in the forecast, had come to KBDR "on little cat feet" and with the wind calm (0000KT) it could well sit "over harbor and city on silent haunches" for an unpleasantly long time. And 1/4 mile visibility with an indefinite 200 foot ceiling (VV200) was well below minimums for the Runway 6 ILS approach. Still, the forecast continued to call for improving conditions so I headed for the airport.

By the time I'd pre-flighted N631S, taxied to the fuel island and topped off the tanks, the 12Z TAF was out:


TAF KBDR 051120Z 0512/0612 VRB03KT 2SM BR OVC006
   TEMPO 0512/0514 1/2SM FG OVC002 
   FM051400 22005KT P6SM SCT010 OVC040 
   FM051600 22007KT P6SM SCT040 OVC150 
   FM052200 22008KT P6SM OVC040 
   FM060200 19007KT 5SM BR OVC020 
   FM060700 19008KT 4SM -RA BR OVC015=

Now, in the TEMPO group, the forecaster at least acknowledged the presence of the fog. But conditions were still projected to improve after 14Z (9:00 AM).

But I've been flying in and out of Sikorsky Memorial Airport for quite a few years now, and I've seen fog before. The phenomenon could be very persistent, lingering for hours beyond the time when things were forecast to improve. So I wanted to see an improvement at KBDR before I'd launch in that direction. I'd wait a while.

Things improved a bit at KBDR just before 10:00 AM as the following METAR's show:

 
METAR KBDR 051452Z 00000KT 1/2SM FG BKN004 OVC008 10/09 A3038=
SPECI KBDR 051459Z 00000KT 1SM BR BKN004 OVC008 11/09 A3038

Visibility had improved to a mile and the ceiling was up to 400 feet. These values were adequate for the ILS approach. In addition, an amendment to the TAF had issued that seemed to promise continued improvement:


KBDR 051347Z 0514/0612 VRB03KT 1/4SM FG VV002
   TEMPO 0514/0515 2SM BR OVC006 
   FM051500 22005KT P6SM SCT010 OVC040 
   FM051600 22007KT P6SM SCT040 OVC150 
   FM052200 22008KT P6SM OVC040 
   FM060200 19007KT 5SM BR OVC020 
   FM060700 19008KT 4SM -RA BR OVC015=

If I got underway, I'd be at Bridgeport a bit after noon (17Z) and the forecast suggested that visibility would be good and the ceiling would be, by that time, overcast at 4,000 feet. Neat! So I fired up N631S and we were off the ground at 1522Z, headed north.

Of course, a forecast is just a forecast. A "guess" – a highly educated guess, but... So as soon as N631S was settled down in cruise at 7,000 feet I checked the new METAR at KBDR:

 
SPECI KBDR 051515Z 00000KT 1SM BR OVC002 11/09 A3038 RMK AO2=

Rats! The ceiling was back down to 200 feet. This was not what I wanted to see. So I did two things. First, I slooooowed N631S down a lot. Prop RPM down to 2100, fuel flow down to 10 gallons per hour. Perhaps some extra time would allow the happier parts of that forecast to materialize. And second, I started looking for another place to land.

 
SPECI KDXR 051544Z 22003KT 8SM SCT007 OVC055 11/09 A3037

With eight miles of visibility and a high overcast ceiling, Danbury (KDXR) was a good option. With that Plan "B" in hand, all that was left was to go to KBDR and see what I found there.

To cut to the chase, conditions at KBDR did not improve by the time I got there. N631S and I flew the ILS Rwy 6 approach, advised by the tower that the ceiling was at 200 feet with 1/2 mile visibility – well below minimums. At 300 feet on the glide-slope there was nothing to see but gray. I reported on the missed approach, tower switched me back to New York approach and the controller there said, "Say intentions."

I requested a couple of turns in the hold to figure things out. While the Garmin 530W GPS worked with the S-TEC 50 autopilot to fly N631S around in the hold I checked the METAR's at nearby airports. Waterbury-Oxford (KOXC) was only about 12 miles north and was VFR so that's where we went. N631S and I landed there at 1746Z. (The clip above shows the approach to KBDR, the hold and the flight path up to KOXC. Click to enlarge, if you like.)

So there I was in Oxford and there sat the fog at Bridgeport. I checked the 18Z TAF, which had just been issued:


TAF KBDR 051733Z 0518/0618 VRB04KT 1SM BR BKN003 OVC060
   TEMPO 0519/0523 6SM BR SCT005 BKN060 
   FM052300 21005KT 1SM BR BKN003 
   FM061500 22008KT 4SM BR BKN008=

The forecaster was now suggesting that prevailing weather for the balance of the afternoon would be a mile visibility and 300 foot ceiling, with brief periods of good visibility and a 6,000 foot ceiling. I'd watch the METAR's and hope for a break in the weather that I could use to sneak into Bridgeport.

The break came (I thought) at about 2:00 PM (19Z), when the visibility rose to 3 miles and the ceiling lifted to 400 feet:


SPECI KBDR 051859Z 00000KT 3SM BR OVC004 12/10 A3030 RMK AO2=

OK, that was good enough. I quickly called Flight Service and filed an IFR flight plan for KOXC to KBDR, direct.

In short order, N631S and I were back in the air and headed for KBDR. The New York Approach controller asked if I had ATIS "November" at Bridgeport, which I quickly picked up. It was consistent with the last METAR I'd seen. So far, so good. The controller began to issue vectors to me for the ILS Rwy 6 approach (see clip above, at left). About then I heard another aircraft on the frequency mention "Tango at Bridgeport". Uh-oh. That could only mean a later ATIS incorporating a change in conditions. I went back to the Bridgeport ATIS frequency and heard, "Visibility one and three-quarter miles, sky condition overcast 200 feet." Back below minimums. This wasn't my day.

The controller asked me if I had gotten "Tango" and I said, "Yes, and it's depressing." She said, "A King-Air just missed there...do you want to try it anyway?" I declined and asked for a vector back to KOXC, which still enjoyed excellent visual conditions.

That wrapped up aviating for the day. I arranged with the FBO to park N631S overnight and, with another pilot who'd diverted from KBDR, rented a car for the short drive to Bridgeport. That turned out to be a good choice, as for the rest of the day the ceiling at KBDR never got above 200 feet. The weather at this writing (Tuesday evening) continues to be poor. But this weather system will pass through tomorrow and Thursday is forecast to be VFR. That's when I'll find my way back to Oxford to retrieve N631S.

"It's the Third Approach that Kills You"

2011-11-22T16:37:00.000-05:00

One of the "Ancient Pelicans" hanging around KBDR shared the wisdom in this post's title with me soon after I got my Instrument Rating. His theory was that if you were shooting an instrument approach for the third time you were tired, and frustrated, and maybe getting a little thin on fuel...and thus perfectly set up to push things a bit too far. And your funeral would be held on a sunny day.

So, he advised, go ahead and take it around for a second try. But if the second approach is a miss...go somewhere else where conditions are better. I thought that was pretty good advice.

That advice came back to me this afternoon, after the folks at FlightAware.com sent me an e-mail notification about a friend's flight. I have the "N" numbers of several friends' airplanes set up for the service and one of them had departed Lancaster (KLNS) for a flight to Manassas (KHEF). I clicked on the link to see where he was.

He'd departed KLNS shortly before 2:00 PM, launching into some fairly significant weather. By the time I brought up the web site (just about 3:00 PM) I expected he'd be close to his destination. But I found him 20 miles north of Manassas, on the ILS approach to Runway 17 at Leesburg (KJYO). Given the weather depicted on the screen, this would likely be an interesting approach. I pulled up the METAR:

 
KJYO 221955Z AUTO 00000KT 4SM RA BKN002 OVC017 10/10 A3009

That was not at all a sure thing! Ceiling reported at 200 feet, and the Decision Height for the approach at 250 feet AGL. I refreshed the screen a couple more times, watching the airplane icon near the airport location, and the altitude readout roll down. Then, it started to roll up, the speed readout increased and the icon turned away. Missed approach.

My friend flies a Cirrus SR-22, and is a fine instrument pilot. But this was no-kidding-around weather – the Real Deal. I had to hang around to watch the story unfold.

The airplane icon moved off to the north, then turned back toward KJYO. Vectors for a second approach. Back to the final approach course, speed reduced, altitude decreasing...and then increasing. A second missed approach! And the advice of the Ancient Pelican, gone West years ago, arose in my mind. Get out of there, my friend. You don't have to be in Leesburg today.

At left, the track as shown on FlightAware.com to this point. (Click to enlarge.) You can see the first approach, the turn outbound and then back in for the second ILS. And finally, the airplane icon outbound again to the Northwest. "Say intentions."

I will admit to a sigh of relief when he turned to the northeast and left KJYO well behind. Having decided that two tries at that ILS were quite enough he was headed somewhere else. I watched to see where he'd go.

The track bent to the east and then around to the southwest. He was lining up for the Runway 23 ILS approach at Frederick (KFDK). As the icon representing my friend's airplane approached KFDK I pulled up the METAR that was on offer there:

 
KFDK 222051Z AUTO 36005KT 7SM +RA SCT004 BKN009 OVC023 08/08 A3009 RMK AO2 P0002

Despite the heavy rain (+RA) this looked better. Good visibility and a broken ceiling at 900 feet. I watched, refreshing the display periodically, as the tiny blue airplane moved over the airport symbol...and stopped. Safe on the ground. (Below, the rest of the track courtesy of FlightAware.com)

Of course, the outcome was never seriously in doubt. My friend is a capable aviator, well qualified to deal with these conditions. But I'm sure he had some adrenalin flowing and he probably sat in the airplane for a minute after shutting down, while some tension dissipated.

As for me, I applauded the good judgement he exercised in avoiding a third approach to KJYO. Perhaps somewhere my other friend, the Ancient Pelican, is smiling.

Children of the Magenta Line

2011-11-08T21:07:00.000-05:00

The video embedded below was posted on the AvSig online forum by a friend. It's a presentation by a senior American Airlines training Captain on the subject of automation dependency (a subject I've commented on before). For my friends out there who fly aircraft that are able to let the GPS navigator drive the autopilot – well, you really ought to invest the 25 minutes in watching this; every time he says "FMC", substitute "GPS".

Automation Dependency from Bruce on Vimeo.

Parsing the Regs

2011-11-06T09:40:00.001-05:00

The previous post discussed the "inop" status of the beacon that sits atop N631S's vertical stabilizer. In summary, (a) as of Friday morning it was not working at all; (b) the maintenance folks were on the case; and (c) I believed it to be a "no-go" item that would need to be fixed if I wanted to make my weekly trip from Connecticut to the DC area by airplane rather than AmTrak.

Well, perhaps not so much.

Midday Friday I went over to Three Wing Flying Services and talked with Tony and Jared. Tony had the bad news: "We found a short, and your lamp is shot...and we don't have a 14 volt lamp in stock." Jared offered the good news: "You've got strobes, right? As long as you have strobes, you don't need the beacon."

Really? I needed to think about this a bit. This was one of those times when it would be necessary to see what the regulations said, and to consider what the regulations mean!

The applicable regulation is found in Title 14 CFR Part 91 Subpart C (Equipment, Instrument, and Certificate Requirements) Section 91.209 (Aircraft lights), which says in relevant part:

No person may:...(b) Operate an aircraft that is equipped with an anticollision light system, unless it has lighted anticollision lights. ...

N631S is in fact "equipped with an anticollision light system", so that part of 91.209 is applicable. In normal circumstances, that system is comprised of the red flashing beacon atop the vertical stabilizer and the white wingtip strobes. If the beacon is "inop" but the strobes are working just fine, then the aircraft complies with the requirement that it "ha(ve) anticollision lights" when being operated. So far, so good.

Here's an excerpt from an on-line forum called TheCFI.com that shows at least one other person using the same logic to arrive at the same conclusion:

Beacon/Rotating Beacon vs Anti-Collision Lights
by jdkiger » Tue Aug 19, 2008 10:02 am

A recent discussion at my flight school resulted in very different opinions in understanding of what is required. Not quite addressed in past questions on this forum. Our situation is: Aircraft has wing tip strobes/anti-collision lights in addition to a vertical stabilizer mounted aviation red/white strobe (individual power supplies). With the strobe out on the vertical stabillizer inop, placarded as such. Required log book entries documented. Is the aircraft airworthy? Many suggest that since the wing tip strobe/anti-collision lights are operating the aircraft meets the requirements to be airworthy. How about it?

jdkiger

by midlifeflyer » Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:50 am

This is pure guesswork on my part since I've never seen anything from the FAA on it...

91.209(b) says "an" anticollision light system (so do the applicable provisions of 91.205). If the aircraft has two different ones that each comply with TSO C96a (and whatever other requirements there might be), one should be sufficient for compliance with 91.209(b).

That is, of course, assuming that the other requirements of 91.213 regarding flight with inoperative equipment are met.

Like I said, pure guesswork.

Finally, I recall that the previous airplane in my life, N82953, a 1981 Piper Archer II, came from the factory with wingtip strobes and no rotating beacon. And it was just fine in that configuration. So in the end, I concluded that N631S was indeed airworthy with the beacon placarded "inop" (as required by 91.213) and the strobes fulfilling the requirement of Section 91.209 for operating anticollision lights. I could make my flight to DC without transgressing the bounds of the regulations.

Three Wing is ordering the parts needed to restore N631S's beacon to operating status, which work will be done during the coming week.

First, the Good News...

2011-11-04T09:04:00.001-04:00

The weather forecast is fine for a flight this afternoon from KBDR down to KVKX in the DC area. While temperatures aloft will be below freezing (after all, it is November), the skies should be clear or at least ceilings should be quite high. Thus, icing ought not to be at issue.

On the subject of ceilings, I've been enjoying a new (to me) weather data site, the High Resolution Rapid Refresh (HRRR) model from NOAA. (A "hat tip" to Jim Fallows for pointing this one out on his blog a couple of days ago.) It appears to have evolved from the highly regarded Rapid Update Cycle (RUC) model and includes excellent forecasted ceiling graphics like, for example, this:

That graphic depicts ceiling heights forecast for 23Z this evening and, as you can see, it's an optimistic picture. And, the Terminal Area Forecasts (TAF's) are consistent with it. So it's all good, but...

Now, the Bad News!

This morning, when I went to the airport to stow my bag and pre-pre-flight N631S, a problem cropped up. The flashing beacon (that red flasher on top of the vertical stabilizer) neither flashed nor beacon-ed. I'd expect to be flying after sunset, and the rules say that if you have anti-collision lights installed they have to work. So I look at this as a "no-go" item. My friends at Three Wing Flying Services are working on the problem. If it's an easy fix, I'll be good to go. If it turns out to be hard or to require a part that isn't in stock, then I will find myself on AmTrak this weekend.

Artifact

2011-10-29T16:45:00.000-04:00

The terminal area forecast for KDCA that issued at 18Z yesterday (recovered from the marvelous OgiMet site) had me motivated to get N631S and myself airborne and headed toward the DC area without undue delay. The lines for "FM2100Z" and "FM2300Z" are relevent:

 
TAF KDCA 281740Z 2818/2918 06005KT P6SM SCT140 SCT170 BKN250 
FM282100 08004KT P6SM VCSH BKN060 OVC090 
FM282300 10004KT P6SM -RA FEW020 SCT040 OVC080 
FM290300 07005KT 6SM -RA BR SCT020 OVC030 
FM290600 03006KT 5SM -RA BR SCT015 OVC025
FM290900 01007KT 6SM -RA BR FEW007 OVC011 
FM291100 36009KT 4SM -RASN BR SCT008 OVC012 
FM291500 35011G18KT 3SM -RASN BR FEW005 BKN008 OVC011 
FM291700 35015G24KT 1SM -SN BR BKN004 OVC007=

The 21Z line in the TAF for KBWI was about the same. I could get past Baltimore with a broken ceiling at 6,000 feet (BKN060) and for arrival I could work around "showers in the vicinity" (VCSH). But the freezing level was going to be somewhere around 3,000 feet which made the forecast for 23Z, calling for light rain (-RA) and an overcast at 3,000 (OVC030) a "no-go" condition. My conclusion was that I'd better be on the ground at Potomac Airfield (KVKX) well before 23Z (7:00 PM EDT).

Conditions were quite good departing KBDR and stayed that way until I reached the Allentown Approach airspace. From that point onward the overcast was solid and at 8,000 feet it looked like I could reach up and touch it. On the positive side of the ledger, winds aloft were light and I was making good speed over the ground (mostly between 130 and 140 knots).

I had to smile looking at the screen showing the NEXRAD returns when N631S and I were abeam of Allentown. The Outside Air Temperature was 27 degrees, and to look at the green area ahead, you might think that there was a problem in the making. NEXRAD was indicating lots of moisture, and that added to sub-freezing OAT's can mean ice! But, if you go ahead and click on that screen shot, you'll see a picture taken seconds later that shows what I was seeing straight ahead through the windshield.

The hint is in the color of the triangles next to the ABE and RDG airport symbols. Blue means good VFR weather, and that held up all the way across Baltimore and into KVKX. This was the METAR in effect as I crossed the BAL VOR:

 
KBWI 282054Z 11005KT 10SM FEW060 BKN110 OVC150 09/M02 A3021 RMK AO2 SLP231 T00891022 53001\

And this was the one for Andrews AFB (KADW) as I was landing a couple of miles away at KVKX:

 
METAR KADW 282055Z AUTO 11003KT 10SM FEW075 SCT090 08/M01 A3022 RMK AO2 SLP236 T00791007 53002 $=

N631S was snug in its hangar well before the rain began, about an hour after the TAF had forecast:

 
KADW 290016Z AUTO 07003KT 10SM -DZ FEW024 BKN044 OVC055 07/00 A3021 RMK AO2 DZB0016 SLP235 $

Into the Darkness

2011-10-17T18:29:00.000-04:00

Hindsight being consistently 20-20, I now find myself looking back on last Friday's flight from Bridgeport (KBDR) to Potomac Airfield (KVKX) with acute interest. The interesting bits came in three distinct parcels; I'll describe them in turn.

Part I

The previous post reviewed my planning for the flight, and included an off-hand comment that it's the time of year when one needs to think "less about, 'Will there be convection issues?' and more about 'Will there be ice?'" Famous last words.

As N631S and I were taxiing for departure, the controller advised that ATC was not providing IFR releases for aircraft headed west or south "due to weather." I said I'd park and wait it out. On the way back to the tie-down I took the screen shot at left, showing the weather that was causing the problem.

I was aware that there was significant weather in that area, but I had felt I could depart and work with ATC to find a route through the line or at worst, turn around and return to KBDR. But that scheme didn't work for ATC! In the busy New York Approach airspace, I guess that there isn't time to work individual aircraft through a line of convection. They just shut the routes down until the weather improves.

So, N631S and I sat on the ramp, checking in with the tower every 15 minutes for an update. After an hour and a half, the answer came back as, "Things are improved over by Sparta...you'd better get taxiing." Which we did!

The screen shot at left was taken soon after departure and shows the break in the line that we were aiming for. With just a few vectors for spacing, we were on our way westward. There were some cloud buildups to go through that looked a little intimidating, but the NEXRAD radar display showed little precipitation and there was no indication of lightning. And in the event, the clouds contained nothing worse than light turbulence.

At left, the view at 8,000 feet, coming out of the far side of that line of weather near the Sparta VOR (SAX). You can see the glow of sunset, a result of the delay in departure from KBDR. I hadn't expected to be logging night time on this trip but it was working out that way.

Part II

In looking at the weather forecast for this flight, it was clear that there might be some flirtation with ice. And near Allentown at 8,000 feet N631S and I found ourselves in the cloud layer with the outside air temperature (OAT) coming down. I wanted to stay at 8,000 as long as possible because the winds were more favorable there than at 6,000. Despite a true airspeed of about 140 knots, speed over the ground was only about 110 knots. Lower, the wind would be more directly "on the nose" and the headwind component stronger. I watched the declining OAT until it reached 34°F, and then asked Allentown Approach for a descent to 6,000. And as expected, about 7 knots of ground speed went away. But that altitude was below the clouds and significantly warmer.

Except for needing to be vectored around an isolated patch of convective weather just north of Lancaster, the balance of the en route portion of the flight was uneventful.

Part III

As had been forecast, the surface winds in the DC area were strong and gusty. And, as expected, the winds at KVKX were moderated by the field's location in a valley. Still, there was enough wind (reported as 7 knots from 260°) to make Runway 24 the clear choice. My final controller from Potomac Approach asked if I had the weather at KVKX and I replied, "Yes, I've picked that up; looks like it'll be Runway 24 tonight."

That elicited an offer that I couldn't refuse. Andrews AFB, which lies about 5 miles northeast of KVKX, was more or less between my position and the approach end of runway 24. I could get a turn toward the airport passing just south of Andrews, provided that I agreed to timely cancellation of IFR (since I'd wind up below Approach's Minimum Vectoring Altitude). Visibility was good, so I said, "Sure, we can do that." To which the controller said, "Proceed direct to VKX while I talk to Andrews."

A few minutes later I was at 1,500 feet, essentially crossing east to west over the approach lights of Andrews' Runways 1R and 1L. I was set up on a left base for 24 at VKX. Having cancelled IFR when I had the beacon in sight, I reported the runway in view and was released by the controller. N631S rolled out on about a 3 mile final.

It was a bit after 8 PM local time, and completely dark. Approaching KVKX from the northeast – something I'd never before done at night – offers only the most sparse ground lighting. The runway lights are clearly visible and welcoming, but the intervening terrain is something of a "black hole". The area is basically flat and featureless and I was down at about 1,300 feet to stay well below the floor of the Class B Airspace.

We've all read the training materials on visual illusions. We've been told about the dangers of the "black hole approach." (Avoiding Black Holes by Dale Wilson gives a good overview.) But now I was about to have the experience.

The visual approach aid for Runway 24 is a two-light VASI (Visual Approach Slope Indicator). Red beside red means you're low. White beside white, you're high. Red with white is just right. As I looked out into the dark night, the VASI was stubbornly red with red. Yet everything else about the sight picture had my ground-dwelling brain screaming at me, "Too high! You're too high! Get down!" I had to consciously remind myself, "It's an illusion. Do not descend. Trust the VASI." I was applying that first rule of IFR flight – trust your instruments! And soon, one of the red lights turned white and I started a descent toward the runway.

The landing itself was uneventful, and I was left reflecting on how a VFR-only pilot, trained to trust his eyes, could so easily be trapped by what I'd just experienced. It's a sobering thought.

Coda

Two nights later. Sunday, about 8 PM, N438CP – a Cirris SR-22 – was on a visual approach to Runway 26 at Danbury (CT) Municipal Airport (KDXR). The weather was good. I've flown into Danbury on occasion and can state that the terrain surrounding the airport is interesting at the best times.

The approach to 26 is over a residential neighborhood, presumably fairly dark. About a half mile short of the runway, at a point approximately 160 feet above the threshold elevation, the Cirrus flew into the terrain (reportedly where the red dot appears at left). The pilot, sole occupant of the aircraft, was fatally injured. And now I wonder...was he a victim of the siren call to fly lower that I was fortunate enough to be able to ignore?

It Looks Like Summer's Over

2011-10-13T20:58:00.000-04:00

A friend says that there are two seasons here in the Northeast: "Leaves On" and "Leaves Off". We're now well into the transition to the latter, and the times call for a different approach to flight planning. It's now less about, "Will there be convection issues?" and more about "Will there be ice?"

The plan for tomorrow, as usual on a Friday, is to depart Bridgeport (KBDR) late in the afternoon for the flight down to the DC area (KVKX). I expect that my clearance will take N631S and I west to the Sparta VOR (SAX) then south to Solberg (SBJ), west again to the Allentown, PA area, south across Reading, Lancaster and Baltimore, MD, then on into my destination. The first question is, "What's the big picture look like?"

We've got a surface low just north of Lake Huron, with an occluded front trailing off to the southeast. The map (from the NCEP Hydrometeorological Prediction Center site, reflecting the forecast for 00Z Saturday, i.e., 8 PM EDT) depicts an area of showers covering much of New England and New York along with parts of New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Maryland and Virginia are not included. So, I can may get wet on departure but the arrival at KVKX is likely to be dry.

The latest Terminal Area Forecast (TAF) for KBDR (at 00Z Friday, 8 PM EDT, from the AviationWeather.gov site's TAF page) indicates that the rain will stop about 1 PM tomorrow afternoon and the ceiling will be broken at 2,000 feet – not so bad! Here's the TAF:

 
KBDR 132342Z 1400/1424 06007KT 2SM BR OVC007 
     TEMPO 1400/1402 1SM -DZ BR OVC006 
     FM140400 10007KT 3SM -RA BR OVC003 
     TEMPO 1409/1412 1SM BR 
     FM141400 14010KT 5SM -RA BR BKN008 OVC012 
     FM141700 15012KT P6SM BKN020 
     FM142200 20011KT P6SM SCT030 BKN100

For another indication of the flight conditions to be expected, I can look at the relative humidity (RH) aloft. The chart at left (collected from the NCEP Model Analysis & Guidance site), also valid for 00Z, shows the RH for the 850 millibar level of the atmosphere (or, about 5,000 feet). Most of my expected route is covered by the lighter green, indicating RH of 70% to 90%. In that range, I can probably expect nice, juicy clouds. (An RH above 90% says that rain is very likely.) I'll be starting out at 8,000 feet and then probably descending to 6,000 somewhere in Pennsylvania, so it's a good bet that I'll get to log a significant bit of actual instrument time.

The really important question is whether icing is a hazard. Given the expected RH data, it's pretty clear that if the Outside Air Temperature (OAT) aloft is below freezing then airframe icing is a real possibility. Let's look at the forecast.

Here's the forecast (from the AviationWeather.gov Winds & Temperatures page) for 00Z tomorrow night, showing isotherms at the 725 Mb level (about 9,000 feet). At an altitude of 8,000 feet (required to stay above the Newark arrivals) N631S and I ought to see OAT's a Celsius degree or two above those depicted. It might be a bit close, but conditions ought to be acceptable going over to Sparta and down to Solberg.

Once in Allentown Approach airspace (i.e., about at the Pennsylvania border), Newark arrivals will no longer be a factor and I'll be able to request a descent to 6,000 feet. (The chart at left shows 00Z temperatures at 800 Mb, about 6,000 feet.) That will be well below the freezing level and should be the end of concerns about icing. The rest of the trip, in warmer air and toward improving conditions, should be uneventful.

It will not, however, be quick. At left, the 00Z forecast winds at 9,000 feet (and the forecast conditions for 6,000 to 8,000 feet are similar). As you see, there will be substantial headwinds to deal with. According to FlightPlan.com, the average headwind component for the flight will be 18 knots and the expected time en route is 2 hours + 24 minutes – a rather tedious trip!

As for arrival conditions, the TAF for nearby Washington National Airport (KDCA) is suggesting that from 20Z (6 PM) there will be showers in the vicinity with generally good visibility and scattered clouds at 1,500 feet under a broken ceiling at 5,000.

 
KDCA 132335Z 1400/1424 12008KT P6SM VCSH BKN030CB 
     FM140600 18005KT 5SM BR BKN008 OVC015 
     FM141300 22007KT P6SM VCSH BKN015CB 
     FM141800 26010G18KT P6SM SCT015 BKN050 
     FM142000 27012G24KT P6SM VCSH SCT015 BKN050

If one of those "showers in the vicinity" (VCSH) chooses to park right over the airfield, then the RNAV Rwy 6 approach may be necessary but there's nothing to suggest any real difficulty getting in. The forecast wind (for KDCA, 12 knots out of the west, gusting to 24 knots) looks a bit energetic, but the field at KVKX is nestled in a valley and the winds there are rarely as strong as forecast at nearby airports.

So, to summarize:

A departure into fairly low, possibly showery conditions;
Some near-freezing OATs possible in northwestern New Jersey at 8,000 feet;
Steady, fairly strong headwinds throughout;
Reasonably good arrival conditions, with a possible shower and perhaps gusty winds.

In short, a fairly typical Fall IFR flight.

Steve Jobs

2011-10-06T11:53:00.000-04:00

I have never owned an Apple product. The controlling, "we-know-what's-best-for-you" ethos that emanates from the Cupertino mother ship was not something with which I can deal. But that doesn't mean I can't recognize just how very good Steve Jobs was at what he did.

He was a unique amalgam of rare properties, combining the design genius of a Frank Lloyd Wright with the marketing savvy of a Lee Iacocca. Of the Jobs quotations that have been sloshing around the online world for the last 18 hours the one that goes to the heart of his brilliance is this:

"In most people's vocabularies, design means veneer. It's interior decorating. It's the fabric of the curtains, of the sofa. But to me, nothing could be further from the meaning of design. Design is the fundamental soul of a human-made creation that ends up expressing itself in successive outer layers of the product or service."

Looking at the phenomenon that is Apple, after sloughing off the non-essential, it is all about product design. In the beginning was the design and from the design all good things flowed. The designs are perfect, with nothing lacking that is needed and nothing present that is not necessary. They are like Hemingway's prose, like the music of Mozart, like a Frank Lloyd Wright house. That was Steve Jobs' genius – that he could so order life that such glorious artifacts emerged as a matter of course.

He did not save lives through his work, nor feed the hungry nor cure the sick. But through his art he taught us how to make our interaction with a technology-intensive world richer and more productive. For that he will long be remembered and honored. And his like will not be seen again in our time.

Reflecting on Reno

2011-09-26T13:51:00.000-04:00

It's been difficult for me to sort out a number of conflicting impulses in the aftermath of the crash of Galloping Ghost at the National Championship Air Races in Reno, NV. My initial reflexive reaction was to recoil from the pointless tragedy. So much death and destruction for so little purpose! In the wake of the mishap, I would not have protested a decision to end these events forever. And yet...

In another context, these words have appeared in this venue:

"...it is very good for the character to engage in sports which put your life in danger from time to time. It breeds a saneness in dealing with day-to-day trivialities which probably cannot be got in any other way, and a habit of quick decisions."

This was written by Nevil Shute Norway in his autobiography, Slide Rule. And he did engage in such sporting activities: offshore yachting, motor racing, and aerial exhibitions. Air racing fits neatly into this context and has, in fact, a long heritage in aeronautical development.

Not long ago, I acquired a copy of The Conquering Wing by Grover C. Loening. This author was a giant figure in the early decades of American aviation. He managed the Wright Aircraft factory for Orville Wright, founded his own aircraft manufacturing firm, and made important contributions to aeronautical design. But in this book, published in 1970, he chose to write a work of fiction to convey what aviation was like in the U.S. prior to the First World War. Air racing is central to Loening's plot as it was central to pushing the bounds of technology before the imperatives of combat took over that role. And Grover Loening was there!

The names of the great air race trophies resonate with us. The Thompson Trophy, the Bendix Trophy, the Schneider Trophy. In pursuit of these prizes, the great pilots and engineers advanced the state of the art. Who can say what ships "the Few" would have had to launch against the onslaught of the Luftwaffe if Spitfire designer Reg Mitchell hadn't the opportunity to design the Supermarine S.6B (and its immediate progenitors) for the Schneider Cup?

The National Championship Air Races in Reno have carried on this rich tradition – but they have not fulfilled the role. Aeronautical engineering has passed by the air race. It no longer can serve as a technology driver. The only role left to it is commemoration of the glory of a bygone era. Who can say that isn't enough, for the zealous participants who willingly assume the obvious mortal risks?

But there must be a corollary to Shute's endorsement of danger-laced sport, stipulating that the dangers must not, beyond irreducible minima, devolve upon non-participants. In many cases – mountaineering, spelunking, white-water kayaking, as examples – all of the risk is assumed by the participant. But in some cases the risk to life and limb flows outward to others. For example, there has been controversy in the offshore yacht racing community over races that were started in awful weather, with a foreseeable likelihood that air-sea rescue teams would be called on to risk their lives to recover crews in distress. And now, there is controversy in the air race community, and in the wider community surrounding the races, about the risks assumed by spectators. This issue has been confronted by other motor sports and by the related air show community. Now the air race world will have to adapt.

The argument that spectators at high-risk events have somehow "volunteered" to accept the risk by choosing to be present does not hold water. It is the obligation of the participants and the event organizers to so arrange things that the dangers to which spectators are exposed are mitigated to the greatest degree possible. No "hold harmless" printed on the back of a ticket can change this.

Motor racing and the air-shows have implemented serious risk-mitigation efforts, triggered in each case by horrific mass-casualty mishaps. Motor racing changed forever after the 1955 LeMans Gran Prix accident. Thereafter, improved barriers, track reconfiguration and performance limits (e.g., restrictor plates) led to a profound reduction in spectator risk.

For the airshow world, the triggering event was the disastrous accident at the 1988 Ramstein Airshow in Germany. Three aircraft of the Italian Frecce Tricolori demonstration team crashed into the crowd causing 67 fatalities and hundreds of injuries on the ground. This led to regulations requiring designated buffers (of sizes that depend on aircraft performance) and a ban on aerobatic maneuvers that direct kinetic energy toward the spectators. In the U.S., each airshow functions under an FAA waiver that codifies these requirements.

An air race is a somewhat different animal. Because of the oval course configuration, the notion of "no energy directed toward the spectators" has been regarded as impractical for air races. (At Reno, the Grandstand is located in the apron area across the runway at the "bottom" of the oval course (left).) Thus, the tragedy at Reno was made possible.

It has been suggested that the spectators could be relocated inside the oval course. This notion has several drawbacks: (1) The cost of relocating the race's infrastructure could be prohibitively high; (2) much of the action would take place behind the spectators; and (3) the dimensions of the oval courses for the smaller, slower classes are confining.

There may be another alternative; one that would require the abandonment of two-dimensional thinking.

Keep the Grandstand and the Start/Finish line where they are. Run a "lap" that begins with a straight course from left to right across the front of the crowd (with an appropriate buffer distance ) at an altitude no lower than 1,200 feet AGL, After passing the crowd, there would be a tear-drop course reversal beginning with a turn away from the crowd and incorporating a descent to an altitude no higher than 1,000 feet AGL and then a second opposite direction straight pass in front of the stands. At the end of the second straight, a course reversal in the vertical plane (an "Immelman") to re-establish the aircraft on the initial straight.

This would give the spectators a good show, require a bit more of the pilots than "fly low, go fast and turn left", and enhance safety by ensuring that no kinetic energy is directed toward the crowd.

I can claim no qualification to justify my making suggestions to the air racing community at this sad time. But perhaps this sort of "out of the horizontal plane" thinking can help to bring about practical changes that will allow the Air Race tradition to continue and make the loss of Jimmy Leeward and ten others the impetus for a new era of reduced risk at Reno.

Jimmy Leeward – Gone West, 16 September 2011

Muddy Waters

2011-09-10T11:22:00.000-04:00

The flight from Connecticut to the DC area yesterday was thoroughly uneventful – the best kind! The adverse weather that came north with the remnants of Tropical Storm Lee had moved on leaving no trace aloft. But it's another matter at zero feet AGL.

Here (left) a look at the Hudson River from 8,000 feet, a few miles north of the Tappan Zee Bridge. Normally the entire river is the color of the waters seen at the lower left of the image, in Croton Bay. The bay is protected by the Croton Point peninsula. Outside this embayment, the river is a rich, silty brown from the massive upstream runoff that the rains of the past week generated. Upstate New York experienced almost as much flooding as Vermont and many small rural streams turned into raging torrents. Now, the Hudson is carrying the effluent to the sea.

About an hour later, this was the view of the Susquehanna from 6,000 feet. The stream flows from the bottom of the image toward the top and is usually a steely blue-gray. But with the upper Susquehanna reaching flood-stage and beyond at Binghamton and Wilkes-Barre, it isn't surprising to see it turned brown by a burden of silt headed for the Chesapeake. It may be a while before the region's rivers recover their accustomed colorations. Meanwhile, it's enlightening to see the changes induced by Mother Nature from the perspecive of a small aircraft a mile or so up.

And what happens to all that silt? Look at this NASA Landsat 5 image from 2 September. It shows (from a somewhat higher perspective) the Connecticut River depositing silt generated by runoff from Hurricane Irene into Long Island Sound. (Click here for a full description of the image.) That used to be a large part of Vermont, right there.

Today at KBDR

2011-09-09T12:35:00.000-04:00

The Collings Foundation WWII bombers mentioned in the previous post seem to have made it to KBDR despite the wet weather of the week. This morning they were parked on the ramp.

Witchcraft (below) is a Consolidated B-24J Liberator, one of very few left in airworthy condition.

Nine-O-Nine (below) is a Boeing B17-G Flying Fortress, a type that became more rare earlier this year when Liberty Belle burned after a forced landing (story here).

Along with Betty Jane, the P-51C Mustang, they are heading up the road to Waterbury-Oxford Airport (KOXC) for the weekend.

Lee's Leftovers

2011-09-06T16:38:00.000-04:00

Tropical Storm Lee arrived at the Gulf Coast a couple of days ago and has been working its way inland, losing its classic cyclonic form and devolving into a widespread, northeast-bound rain event. The precipitation field encroached on the DC area last evening and this morning N631S and I had some moisture to deal with on our trip north.

All in all it wasn't so bad. In and out of the showers all the way, with some rising to the level of "moderate." No turbulence to speak of, and for most of the trip a healthy tailwind. Just your basic rainy-day IFR flight, including a nice stretch over New Jersey (left) where the sky brightened and the rain stopped.

This pleasant interlude continued to the Coyle VOR (CYN), when McGuire Approach asked for a descent from 7,000 feet to 5,000 which was back in the schmoo...where we stayed until the final New York Approach controller took us down to 3,000 feet east of JFK. The flight ended with an easy ILS approach through a layer of few clouds at about 1,300 feet to BDR's Runway 6.

Having covered and tied down the airplane, I was walking toward the FBO when I saw the lovely machine pictured below, tucked into a hangar and out of the weather. That's Betty Jane, the Collings Foundation's North American P-51C Mustang, s/n 42-103293.

The aircraft has been modified to include a second seat with dual-controls (located where the fuselage fuel tank was). She's here for a few days – and her compatriot B-17G Flying Fortress and B-24J Liberator are also expected – for a few days of tours and warbird rides. It will be unfortunate if the wet weather forecast for the next few days dampens the event.

An Eerie Silence

2011-08-29T13:00:00.000-04:00

Hurricane Irene has hurried off to points north leaving an array of inconveniences with which to deal. But life goes on, so this morning N631S and I were airborne and headed toward Connecticut as we are nearly every Monday. Today's trip was a quick one, as Irene's parting gifts included a tailwind at 7,000 feet of about 15 knots. This let me reduce the prop RPM to 2150, lean the fuel flow to 9.7 gallons per hour, and still make about 145 knots over the ground.

The air traffic control frequencies seemed quieter than normal, but the silence got downright spooky in New York Approach airspace. Transiting some of the busiest airspace in the world, it seemed like N631S and I were alone. On a normal day, the flight path follows airway Victor 1 from New Jersey directly over John F. Kennedy International Airport, then off to the northeast along Victor 229 to Bridgeport. Today was not normal.

Just clearing Sandy Hook, the controller asked, "Skylane 31 Sierra, would you like to go direct Bridgeport at this time, or wait until after JFK?" There just wasn't any traffic to interfere with! I responded with, "31 Sierra will take direct Bridgeport," accepting an extra mile or two of flight over water. This moved my track off to the east a few miles, allowing me to snap this picture of a nearly empty JFK. Click on it to enlarge and you'll see very few aircraft.

Flooding from Irene's torrential rains had caused the closure of Sikorsky Memorial Airport (KBDR) but one runway had re-opened at 0830 local time. Having been cleared for the visual approach to Runway 24, I contacted the Tower and the controller advised me to exercise caution due to ponding near the runway and extensive bird activity. Apparently, our feathered friends are enthusiastic about the new-born pond!

As I was about to turn base, toward the runway, the controller said, "31 Sierra, if you can give me a right 360 there, I'll get a truck to go over there and scare away the birds." I said "Wilco," and set up a standard two-minute turn while "Rescue 4" drove past the pond making noise. Finishing 270 degrees of the turn put me onto the base leg of the approach. I saw the pond, and the birds now returning to it. So I "landed long", passing over the birds and touching down well past them. It's to be hoped that the waters will soon subside, and the birds will return to their more usual environs.

Ahead of Irene

2011-08-27T16:41:00.000-04:00

Yesterday afternoon when I arrived at KBDR, N631S was one of the few aircraft on the ramp. With Hurricane Irene on the way, most others were either in hangars or flown away to safer locales. Earlier in the day my friend Jared Gowlis from Three Wing Flying Services had called me just to be certain that I planned to fly out. The precautions are well advised, as conditions anticipated for Sunday at KBDR are downright unpleasant. Here's the 18Z TAF issued on Saturday, 26 August:


KBDR 271939Z 2720/2818 10012KT 5SM -SHRA BR BKN004 OVC008 
     FM272300 10015KT 3SM RA BR OVC006 
     FM280200 09030G38KT 1SM +RA BR OVC006 
     FM280600 10040G49KT 1SM +RA BR OVC004 
     FM281100 10050G60KT 1SM +RA BR OVC004 
     FM281500 09060G72KT 1SM +RA BR OVC004

Yes, that last line says sustained winds of 60 knots (69 mph) with gusts to 72 knots (83 mph) from 11:00 AM until at least 2:00 PM tomorrow. Not fit for man nor beast nor unprotected airplane!

So N631S and I got underway for the trip south to KVKX, Potomac Airfield, just across the river from home in Alexandria. The clearance was what I've come to expect: vectors to SAX V239 SBJ V30 ETX V39 LRP V93 BAL Direct.*

Aside from dealing with moderately strong headwinds, the trip proceeded uneventfully for the most part. About an hour after departure I had a look at the NEXRAD display on the Garmin GPSmap 396, zoomed out to a wide view, to see where the leading edge of Irene's precipitation shield was. It was well to the south – nothing to be concerned about on that score. The only weather in Virginia was a few isolated thunderstorms unrelated to the approaching cyclone.

Later, still over Pennsylvania with an hour to go, I took a look at the situation near KVKX, my destination. Ah, there was a bit of a surprise! A couple of those summer cells had set up shop in the immediate vicinity of where N631S and I wanted to go. And with the storm on the way, this would be a bad night to have to divert. I watched those cells for a while – they were stubbornly disinclined to move away. The only good news was that there appeared to be no weather immediately over KVKX.

Just south of Baltimore, with Andrews AFB abeam, the rain was clearly visible. There still seemed to be no weather over KVKX and the approach to Runway 6 looked clear. The Potomac Approach controller asked if I wanted to try a visual approach or would I like the RNAV Rwy 6 instrument approach. I considered the visual too chancy, given the cells of weather in the area so I requested the RNAV approach and loaded it into the GNS-530W.

Approach passed along a couple of weather avoidance vectors as they routed me around the intervening precipitation and toward WOBUB, the Initial Approach FIX (IAF) for the RNAV approach. I was asked whether I would like Vectors-to-Final for the straight-in approach or the full approach with the procedure turn. Under the circumstances, it was a good idea to get N631S on the ground with all deliberate speed, so I requested the straight in.

A couple more vectors routed me toward CRROL, the Final Approach Fix (FAF) and onto the final approach course. After passing through just a spray or two of drizzle, Runway 6 at KVKX popped into view for an uneventful landing. N631S was soon snug in the hangar and I headed home to wait for Irene.

* Or, to translate, radar vectors from Bridgeport west to the Sparta, NJ VOR then south along airway Victor 239 to the Solberg, NJ VOR thence westward along airway Victor 30 to the East Texas VOR (near Allentown, PA) thence south along airway Victor 39 to the Lancaster, PA VOR thence southeast along airway Victor 93 to the Baltimore, MD VOR, thence direct to KVKX.

The Mark I Eyeball (cont'd)

2011-08-23T19:03:00.001-04:00

The previous post reviewed a flight N631S and I made about a week ago, from Potomac Airfield (KVKX) to Bridgeport (KBDR), that involved coping with some convective weather. The coping mechanisms included the XM Weather NEXRAD display, advice from ATC based on their radar displays, and the Mark I Eyeball. To continue with the theme, herewith a review of last Friday's return flight with more weather and more coping.

By the time I arrived at KBDR, a little after 20Z, it was obvious that my anticipated clearance over eastern Pennsylvania (via Sparta, Allentown, Lancaster, etc.) was a non-starter. I told Clearance Delivery that I was "unable" that routing due to extensive convective activity and asked for a route over Deer Park (DPK), thence JFK and Victor 16 over New Jersey down to the DC area. This time, New York Approach came back fairly quickly with a workable clearance: Vectors to DPK V16 ENO V268 SWANN BAL thence direct to KVKX. That was about as good as I was going to get.

I was already aware of a sizable patch of stormy weather churning around over Delaware and eastern Maryland and not moving too quickly. My working theory was that I could get started and head down there, get at least as far as southern New Jersey, and then work with ATC to work through that OR work around it OR land somewhere and wait it out. But the route across JFK and down through central NJ looked good – so we got underway just about 2030Z.

The screen capture at left, taken about 20 minutes after departure, is interesting for two reasons. First, all of that colorful stuff off to the northwest gives a good idea of why the original clearance's route was not going to work. I for one wouldn't care to fly through all that! Second, there's a little surprise waiting for me up ahead, southwest of DIXIE. Where did that come from? About forty minutes before, a last look at the radar display at the FBO had shown no weather at all in that part of New Jersey. I activated the "Animate Weather" option on the Garmin GPSmap 396 and got an answer. The weather in question had popped into existence about 25 minutes earlier and had grown explosively! Well, now I needed to deal with it.

Nearing DIXIE, New York Approach handed me off to McGuire Approach. As I checked in with McGuire I asked if a deviation left, perhaps "direct Atlantic City", was in order for weather avoidance. The controller advised that I should expect a turn to a 180 heading in a couple of miles. That surprised me, but his display's information was more current than mine. I'd happily accept the more aggressive turn.

The turn to the south came quickly, along with a descent from 6,000 feet to 4,000. This proved to be quite important because it allowed me to "stay visual" on the weather for the rest of the flight. Then, after about five miles the controller asked, "Skylane 31 Sierra, can you accept a 230 heading at this time?" Well, I figured, first, he wouldn't have asked if it didn't look acceptable to him. And the NEXRAD picture indicated that the proposed heading would keep me out of the more undesirable colors.

And, finally, looking off to the right I didn't see anything intimidating. With all inputs in favor, I turned N631S to the 230 heading. That done, my friend at McGuire Approach handed me off to Atlantic City Approach. I checked on and the ACY controller gave me an altimeter setting and added, "Deviations for weather are approved, just let me know what you're doing. And advise when you can head back toward Victor 16." I said wilco, but that it would be a while.

I kept N631S on the 230 heading, essentially paralleling Victor 16, until the NEXRAD display and the Mark I Eyeball agreed that the more enthusiastic weather was passing behind us and that a turn to the west was workable. In fact, the display showed a nice clear path back over to the Cedar Lake VOR (VCN), which is on the Victor 16 airway. I told the controller I thought direct VCN would work and got an "Approved!" from him.

That turn to VCN was the start of a quiet 15 minutes, which I used to think about my options for the next part of the flight. This was where the weather began to look really interesting. There was no obvious path on the NEXRAD display toward and beyond Dover AFB. The clear lane I was in continued west toward Wilmington but there wasn't a clear "out" at the far end. There was a path around to the east but it would be a long detour. Well, soon Atlantic City would hand me off to Dover Approach and I would discuss the situation with them.

As N631S and I crossed the New Jersey coast and headed out over Delaware Bay I was switched to Dover Approach. Checking on, I asked the controller how the weather was looking to him. He replied, "We have areas of moderate to heavy precipitation. Turn to a 240 heading."

Now that didn't look too slick on the NEXRAD display. But the controller liked it, and to the Mark I Eyeball it didn't look too bad at all (left). OK, I'm in. If it got nasty I could turn 180º and trek off to the east. But with clouds to the left and clouds to the right, I was flying toward the light, in light rain and smooth air.

The Dover controller bent my course a little further to the left and asked what my flight conditions were. I told him, and he said, "It looks like you'll go through some moderate rain...it's about the best you're going to do." There was one more patch of precip to get past, and conditions were really not too bad.

The photo at left was taken just seconds after the preceding screen shot. It shows about the worst flight conditions I saw during the entire flight. But the path toward better conditions is clearly visible and it was consistent with the controller's guidance. And in a few more minutes N631S and I flew into the clear.

From then on the hard part was over. I should note that the area of rain I worked through with the help of the Dover Approach controller (and the Mark I Eyeball) was free of any indication of lightning. I saw a couple of flashes off to the left while crossing Delaware bay, but none where I was actually headed – the presence of lightning would have required a different plan. As it was, once past those rain cells the rest of the flight across eastern Maryland and into the DC area was clear of weather. My array of tools for coping with the adverse weather appeared to have served me well.

The Mark I Eyeball

2011-08-20T21:30:00.000-04:00

In writing posts for this blog about my weather flying experiences, I've commented favorably on more than one occasion about the utility of weather displays in the airplane. NEXRAD, XM Weather, that sort of thing. I have been, and I remain, convinced that these displays are of remarkable value in dealing with the challenges we encounter when we choose to commit aviation at times and places where the atmosphere is grumpy.

Two flights in the last week have reminded me of how vital it is to stay aware of the limitations of NEXRAD displays and to always remember that they are only one voice in the chorus, one instrument in the band. Depending on circumstances, other inputs may be more important and more informative. All sources of information have to be integrated to arrive at the best decision. You have to meld information from the controller's ASR radar display and input from the view through the windscreen with the picture on the XM Weather display to get the best image of what is happening. Last Monday's flight from Potomac Airfield (KVKX) up to Bridgeport (KBDR) was illustrative.

It wasn't long after departure from KVKX until N631S and I started to see some weather. We were at 7,000 feet, talking to Potomac Approach. There was a fairly energetic cell to the north near Baltimore, and a lesser patch of weather to the south. No problem navigating between them. But it was interesting to correlate the view through the windscreen with the XM Weather display on the Garmin GPSmap 396.

The view at left is out to the right, observing the less energetic but closer patch of weather seen above. It's still fairly benign, although the cumulus core is building. That cell may have gotten a lot more interesting over the next twenty minutes. Bear in mind that this is happening at 7:30 AM Eastern time! Not all convective weather happens in the afternoon. But we flew between the cells with plenty of clearance and pressed on toward New Jersey, soon to be handed off to Dover Approach.

Once past that first bit of weather I zoomed out on the NEXRAD display to see what was cooking up ahead. The situation in the area of the LEEAH intersection looked interesting! Normally, N631S and I stay with Dover as we cross the Delaware Bay and get handed off to Atlantic City Approach as we cross the New Jersey shoreline. I asked the Dover controller to give Atlantic City a "heads-up" that I'd be welcoming a deviation to the left of course approaching LEEAH.

I checked in with Atlantic City and talked to the controller about what he was seeing on his radar. I wanted to turn to the northeast, toward the Coyle VOR (CYN) at a point that would minimize my exposure to the two cells up ahead. A few miles before reaching LEEAH I asked for "direct Coyle", which was approved. That flight path is shown above left. As I skirted the first cell off the right wing, N631S and I experienced some moderate precipitation and some light, to occasional moderate turbulence. Nothing scary! Looking to the left, the Mark I Eyeball reported brighter conditions – I could have deviated to the left if necessary, although that would have required some negotiation with Philly Approach. Flight conditions in the second patch of weather, east of VCN, actually were calmer with only light precipitation and minimal turbulence.

N631S and I broke out into fairly clear skies and continued north toward JFK. A look ahead indicated that only light precipitation was to be expected over Long Island and near Bridgeport. In fact, Bridgeport was still reporting VFR conditions!

The screen shot at left, taken soon after crossing over JFK, shows widespread light precipitation. You would think that N631S and I would be getting wet at that point, but that wasn't the case. The NEXRAD composite radar image can't indicate conditions at any specific altitude.

This screen shot (left) was taken just seconds after the previous one, and shows what N631S and I were actually flying through. We were at 3,000 feet at the time, with no precipitation, no turbulence and reasonable flight visibility. Again, the Mark I Eyeball tells a different – probably more reliable – story.

By the time we got near Bridgeport the ceiling had lowered to 800 feet, so it was necessary to fly the ILS approach to Runway 6. That, and the landing, were uneventful.

Looking back, the flight had relied on information from the NEXRAD display (XM Weather) for the "big picture" and weather avoidance strategy; and on the Approach Radar's excellent real-time information to guide the penetration of moderate adverse weather. And, reference to visual inputs to maintain a real-world picture of what N631S was flying through.

In the next post here, I'll share some details on Friday's flight from Bridgeport back to the DC area – where information from the Mark I Eyeball became the primary input needed for successful completion of the flight on a boisterous evening.

21st Century Charts?

2011-08-18T16:43:00.000-04:00

Not all that long ago, nearly every airport's FBO could sell you a reasonable assortment of charts. They would, typically, stock the (VFR) Sectional Chart for the local area and for a few nearby areas along with corresponding (IFR) Low Altitude Enroute Charts and books of Instrument Approach Procedures (IAP's or "Plates"). Then a few years ago the rules changed for chart distribution agents and a ton of those small airport FBO's got out of the chart-selling business. Since then, I've gotten my charts via mail subscription. That has worked just fine, but presents a problem when a trip is planned on fairly short notice that will venture into areas beyond the coverage of the charts that are in the airplane. Such was the case with last week's trip to North Carolina and Tennessee.

While I was wondering how I was going to lay hands on Enroute Charts and Approach Plates covering my intended routing down the Outer Banks, across the Appalachians and then back home, a solution came along courtesy of Tony Oliva. Tony is a retired USAF pilot, with thousands of hours in B-47's, C-130's, C-141's and who knows what else. These days he flies a 1977 C-182Q, a sister to N631S. Tony is also a member of the Cessna Pilot's Association, and he described in a post on CPA's forum his acquisition of a tablet computer and a subscription to an on-line service that furnishes all of the Sectionals, Enroute Charts, and Approach Plates you could ever desire. If Tony, whose wisdom on all matters related to aviation I respect immensely, thinks something is a good idea that's good enough for me. So on the Saturday before our intended departure I set out to replicate what he had done.

The result appears at left, sitting on my knee-board somewhere over West Virginia on the way home. The hardware is an Acer Iconia A500 Tablet with 16GB of internal memory, running Android Honeycomb 3.1. The tablet is Wi-Fi capable which allows the downloading of the software side of the solution – Aviation Maps ver 1.3.15 from Avilution. For just $4.95/month, Avilution makes available for download all of the Sectionals, Enroutes and IAP's for as many states as you care to specify. The initial download takes quite some time, but updates happen more quickly. And then the fun starts.

You can enter flight plan way-points and the software draws a magenta line on the screen showing the intended route of flight. You can tap additional waypoints on the screen and insert them into the flight plan. If you tap an airport you can then bring up the A/F-D (that's the "Airport/Facilities Directory") information on it...and another tap brings up any Approach Plate you may need. The Iconia's 10.1" screen provides a crisp, legible display. Finally, the internal GPS allows the system to track your progress (via a little airplane icon) as your flight proceeds.

The now-familiar "pinching" gesture on the touch-screen lets you scale the displayed chart to suit the situation and a "sliding" gesture re-centers the chart as needed. And you can switch between the Sectional view and the Enroute Chart view virtually instantaneously.

The display is, let's say, acceptable in bright sunlight...which is pretty good for an LCD. Battery life is excellent – I ran it for about 5.5 hours and still had plenty of charge in reserve.

There are a couple of things I need to work on. First, the tablet needs a home. Just sitting on my knee or on the right seat isn't a permanent answer. Second, the Iconia's internal GPS doesn't hold satellite lock very well. I'm looking at the possibility of getting a low-cost Bluetooth GPS receiver that could sit up on the glare-shield and pair with the tablet. But other than those items, I really like the system. I need to fly with this solution for a while to be sure that I understand where any pitfalls may be. But it looks like I'll be able to let my paper chart subscriptions lapse.

And yet... I just like the paper charts so much. A decade ago, Stephan Wilkinson had an article in Air & Space Magazine titled "The Art of the Chart", wherein he gave voice to the affection we pilots (of a certain age?) have for those lovely paper artifacts. As long as paper charts are printed, N631S will have on board at least the local Sectional so that twice a year I can unfold and admire a new one.

The end of my previous post left us on the ground at KJWN in Nashville. Patricia and I enjoyed three days of seeing the sights in and around that fair city but on Friday it was time to head home. With the expected tailwind, there was no need to plan a fuel stop, but a "butt break" would be in order. So I filed a fairly direct route to Charleston, WV's Yeager Airport (KCRW).

Flying over West Virginia, the most prominent features in view are the surface coal mines, both active and closed. In the cases of active mines, the surface of the earth has been torn open to expose the black coal seams that lie under the shallow strata of stone. The closed mines are undergoing remediation but still appear unnatural and devoid of life. It will be years before nature reclaims those devastated areas.

We landed at KCRW and bought sandwiches and salads from the deli case at Executive Air Terminal, the FBO – actually quite fresh and tasty. Then we took off on our last leg, climbed to 9,000 feet (to get 4,000 feet of terrain clearance over the mountains) and headed for home. After an uneventful flight we landed at KVKX about 3:30 PM.

Over the six days since leaving on Sunday morning we'd put 11.6 hours onto N631S's tach. We'd flown over five states and landed at six airports. And we'd burned about 128 gallons of 100LL aviation gasoline at an average cost of $5.33/gallon. And we had fun!

Some Time on the Road

2011-08-16T19:36:00.003-04:00

Last week brought an opportunity to take advantage of N631S's true raison d'etre as a traveling machine. I've already shared a few thoughts (here) on our first stop at Kitty Hawk (KFFA); from there we flew down the Carolina Outer Banks to Ocracoke Island Airport (W95), where we landed about 3:30 PM on Sunday.

The strip on Ocracoke is quiet but well maintained, with ample free parking (left). As with KFFA, there's no fuel available but there is a nice planning facility (again the keypad code for access is "Squawk VFR"). Our hotel was quick to send someone around to collect us after we tied down the airplane, and drive us the half-mile or so to the Village. We'd planned only a brief stay for our first visit but did check off the essential items including:

Rent bicycles.
See the lighthouse.
Go to the beach and splash in the Atlantic.
Eat at Howard's.

We were back at the airport Tuesday morning, ready to head for our next destination, Nashville, TN. But before that, a fuel stop would be necessary. We'd left KVKX with 75 gallons of AvGas on board which is (conservatively) good for 6.2 hours. The flight down to Kitty Hawk burned 1.6 of that, and the leg to Ocracoke another 0.8 so we were left with about 3.8 hours in the tanks. I'd planned a 2.0 hour flight to Stanly County Airport in Albemarle, NC (KVUJ), chosen because it was (a) on the way, more or less, and (b) able to supply fuel at what now passes for a reasonable price – $5.23/gallon, self-service.

After landing at Stanly County and pumping 49 gallons of 100LL into N631S, we walked over to the terminal and inquired about lunch. The pleasant gentleman at the desk handed us the keys to the "crew car" (a clean and well-maintained van) and directed us to the Log Cabin BBQ Restaurant, where we had a delightful meal. We returned to the airport (stopping to put $10 worth of gas in the crew car...you do put gas in the crew car, don't you?) and got on with the trip. This would be the long leg.

Knowing that there would be some tall country between us and Nashville – and that we'd need to circumnavigate Charlotte – I'd filed from KVUJ northwest to the Barrett Mountain VOR (BZM) then southwest to Sugarloaf (SUG) thence across the mountains to Volunteer (VXV) then to Nashville (BNA) and into our destination, the John C. Tune Airport (KJWN). It's rare for me to get N631S above 8,000 feet but I'd filed for 10,000 this time to ensure some space between us and the hilltops.

On our way, we were step-climbed up to 10,000 feet – first by Charlotte Approach and then by Don Brown's old friends at Atlanta Center. Before we reached BZM we were turned "direct Sugarloaf", and soon thereafter our controller said, "Skylane 631 Sierra, cleared direct to Volunteer." To which I said, "31 Sierra, stand by."

One of the reasons I'd filed via SUG to VXV was that I was comfortable with the clearance provided by that route between our cruising altitude and the elevations of the Appalachian peaks in that area. Now the controller was going to take me off-airway in mountainous terrain and I was sure as hell going to look at the chart before I accepted the vector. But a quick look at the sectional put my mind at ease. The Atlanta Center controller had let us proceed far enough toward SUG to ensure that the turn westbound toward VXV would keep us south of the tallest peaks and maintain several thousand feet of terrain clearance. So I keyed the mike and said, "Center, Skylane 631 Sierra is turning direct Volunteer at this time."

As a life-long flatlander, I found the scenery crossing the mountains both beautiful and intimidating. The forested slopes are surely pretty, but there are very few hospitable places to put down a sick airplane. It certainly reminded me of why we need to take maintenance seriously.

Having crossed the mountains, we still had about two hours of flying left across the relatively flat terrain of east Tennessee. There was a small amount of rain along our flight path and we accepted avoidance vectors from the Memphis Center controller. I'd assumed all along that they wouldn't actually let us fly across the city via BNA to get to our destination airport, and as expected, we received vectors for an arc around the north side that set us up for an easy straight-in to Runway 20 at KJWN. I'd selected that airport for its convenient location and not-too-outrageously priced self-service AvGas ($6.13/gallon). After the 3.5 hour flight from KVUJ, we pumped 38 gallons of the precious stuff and parked N631S. A small consolation: there is no landing fee for light singles, and if you buy fuel and park the airplane yourself, they waive the parking fees.

The FBO had organized a rental auto for us (which they drove out to us at the fuel pump so we didn't need to schlep luggage). We got underway toward our hotel in Nashville and a few days of sightseeing and avoiding country music. And I shall save the trip home to KVKX for another post.

Just...Damn!

2011-08-13T14:38:00.003-04:00

Having just last evening returned home from a week of aviating and vacationing (beginning with the visit to First Flight described here), I got around this morning to catching up on local events. One item caught my attention with the headline "Two Die in Fauquier County Plane Crash". I clicked through to the story, saw the sub-head...and my heart dropped like a stone. "Shannon Beebe, 42, was flying single-engine aircraft when it crashed Sunday at Warrenton Air Park." I scrolled down quickly, hoping to not see Elizabeth's name, but expecting the worst...which is what I found: "WJLA is reporting that the female passenger was Alexandria attorney Elizabeth Pignatello.". Damn! Just...damn!

Pat and I had met Shannon and Elizabeth only recently, but we were immediately drawn to them. We spent most of a recent party sitting with them poolside, talking flying and airplanes and travel and family. They were relaxed and friendly and warm. We parted with plans to get in touch about organizing a "fly-out" for pilots based at KVKX. Shannon was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army. He'd graduated from West Point in 1991, and had served our country in the Balkans and in several posts in Africa. Currently posted to the Pentagon, he was a a noted expert on African affairs. Elizabeth was a patent and securities attorney in private practice, and a mom with two small children.

Shannon Beebe, a Commercial Pilot, was consumed by a love of flying. He didn't have an airplane of his own but he had lots of friends with airplanes and never seemed in want of a ride. He had logged 1,000 hours of bush flying in Alaska and Africa and that, along with seaplane flying, was what he loved the most. The airplane he was flying last Sunday was a friend's Maule M-7-235 on amphibious floats. The NTSB's Preliminary Report quotes a witness, in part:

...he had observed the airplane enter the downwind leg of the traffic pattern for the runway and while turning from the base leg to the final leg of the approach the airplane banked to the left. The airplane appeared to continue to bank to approximately 75 degrees, at which point the nose pitched over to an almost vertical attitude. The airplane impacted the ground in an open field prior to the runway threshold, and exploded.

This one hurts a lot.

Elizabeth Pignatello & Shannon Beebe...Gone West 8/7/2011

Pilgrimage

2011-08-11T18:12:00.001-04:00

The wind, as you stand at the base of the monument atop Kill Devil Hill, blows briskly and steadily. It was the wind, of course, that they came for. They used it to launch their kites, to struggle with the 1901 glider, to learn to fly in the 1902 glider and finally, to become pilots with the 1903 Flyer. And now, we come to feel the wind, to walk the ground, to marvel at what they did here. Kitty Hawk is our sacred ground and here we come for our pilgrimage. We know that we are each descended in a fraternal lineage from Wilbur and Orville and so we feel that when we finally come here – when we walk this ground – we have come home.

Last Sunday, Patricia and I took N631S down to the North Carolina Outer Banks and landed at First Flight Airport (KFFA). The little airfield is operated by the National Park Service as a part of the Wright Brothers National Memorial. It's a day VFR-only strip, but plenty of parking space is provided, free for 24 hours.

A few years ago, AOPA funded construction of a very nice pilot planning facility (with restrooms) immediately adjacent to the parking ramp. Access to the flight planning room, with its Internet-connected computer, is gained by entering "Squawk VFR + #-sign" into the electronic lock. There are picnic tables under shade trees for enjoyment of a pleasant lunch.

Our visit reminded me of a lesson learned years ago while visiting the Gettysburg battlefield. It's this: that you can study the events associated with an historic site all that you want, but a full understanding of what happened there will elude you until you walk the ground. The thing that had eluded me, despite having read many accounts of the Brothers' work at Kitty Hawk, was the great significance of the fourth flight of that December day in 1903.

We read all about the triumph and elation surrounding Orville's first flight, the culmination of those years of research and trial and error and cut and fit and test and adjust. We study that black-and-white image, captured at the perfect moment by Surfman J.T. Daniels – perhaps the most famous photograph in aviation history. Orville, in the Flyer, totally immersed in the immensely difficult task of controlling that balky steed. Wilbur, with the thing out of his hands, watching with time seeming almost suspended as history is made. And we, more than a century on, feel the thrill.

And oh, by the way, they made three more flights that day...before an errant gust of wind damaged the Flyer beyond quick repair. Three more flights from the launch rail in the sand, into the steady breeze. Those additional flights don't attract much interest...until you walk the ground.

The photograph at left is taken from the spot where Wilbur landed at the end of the fourth flight. Those small gray structures in the distance are replicas of the sheds that the Brothers built at Kitty Hawk...their "hangar" and the cabin they lived in. The launch rail was in the sand immediately adjacent to those structures. On it's fourth and final (ever!) flight, the Flyer took off from that distant point and flew all the way to where I stood to snap that image. The distance is more than four times that achieved on any of the first three flights. Farther than the first three flights added together. Far enough to be, arguably, the truly dominant success of that cold, windy Carolina morning.

852 feet. A sixth of a mile. 59 seconds. Nearly a minute of barely-controlled pitch-unstable 30 mph flight! This, then, was the confirmation. There could be no argument after the fourth flight, that this was any insignificant hop. The first flight made history, but the fourth showed that powered flight by heavier-than-air aircraft would thenceforth be part of the canon of human accomplishment. I walked back to the launch point, along the path that Orville and the other spectators hurried along 107 years and some months ago to congratulate Wilbur. I would never think about the First Flights in the same way again. In the end, that's what a pilgrimage is for, isn't it?

100 Minutes

2011-07-30T18:05:00.007-04:00

The trip back to the DC area last evening included a very interesting 100 minutes of flying. Just an hour before departure from KBDR, the weather radar showed very little convective activity along my expected route. I launched at 2032Z, as yet unaware that a lot of fast-growing, fast moving convective weather was developing in places that N631S and I intended to be. Managing to stay out of trouble would take all of the resources that I – and a series of great controllers – had available.

As usual, you can click on the images to "big-ify" them.

I had filed for a route across JFK and down over New Jersey, but the ATC computer issued me the "usual route" involving vectors to Sparta, south to Solberg, west to Allentown then south to Lancaster and Baltimore, thence home. This time, I wasn't smart enough to say, "Unable." I knew, however, that it was going to be a long evening when 20 minutes after departure I was still east of KBDR! (This was due to "vectors for sequencing at Sparta," from New York Approach.) I was watching that storm cell approaching Stewart (KSWF) but that one turned out to be the least of my worries.

After another 20 minutes of slow westward progress it was clear that I wouldn't be affected by the cell to the north...but the weather down the route near Solberg (SBJ) was looking like a potential problem. The most pressing matter was to avoid the cell that was then just west of the Broadway (BWZ) VOR. If I got past that point I was confident that a path could be found through the cells then to the south of SBJ.

I asked for an early turn to SBJ, something that's not usually available. This time, the New York Approach controller accommodated me, the first of many times that ATC would help me on this trip. Also, I usually ask for and receive a short cut to LANNA from about 15 miles north of SBJ. This time I didn't request it and wouldn't have taken it if offered as that would have taken N631S and I into some nasty looking weather.

The early turn gave me a little breathing room and the change in course gave a few more knots of ground speed. I started planning to ask the controller for a 270 heading as soon as I was past the threatening cell. Before I could make the request, he said, "Skylane 31 Sierra, let me know when you can accept direct East Texas." I liked that...the course to the East Texas (ETX) VOR would be almost exactly the 270 heading I'd need. Then after 15 to 20 miles of that, I could work out the next bit of strategy with Allentown Approach.

On the way down to SBJ there was some moderate precipitation and occasional light chop for about five minutes, but nothing serious. Just a free airplane wash. That undoubtedly corresponded to penetration of the "yellow" part of the NEXRAD return shown in the screen capture at left.

Very soon after the hand-off to Allentown Approach I asked whether "direct FLOAT" would be a good idea. FLOAT is an intersection near Reading, south of my then current course. The Allentown controller didn't think much of that idea. "This stuff is moving fast," he said, "so by the time you get to FLOAT it'll be there. We need to vector you around it." I was happy to agree. He then added, "31 Sierra, turn left 20 degrees at this time for weather avoidance." The screen capture above left shows the effect of that turn - and yes, I guess the weather was moving fast. I could see his plan...15 to 20 miles on the new heading then a turn to the northwest to exploit the gap between two cells.

At a strategic moment, I suggested that a turn "direct Allentown" looked good to me, and the controller concurred. "Skylane 31 Sierra, turn right direct to the Allentown VOR, that's Foxtrot Juliet Charlie." That course split the cells nicely. On the way through the gap there was only light precipitation and occasional light chop. Nearing FJC, N631S and I broke out into clear air and sunshine. I gave the controller a report of flight conditions between the cells and heard him relay the information to another aircraft that was following along behind me.

I'd reached a point where a turn to the west, along the back side of the cell, would work, so I requested direct ETX and then resume my original clearance. That was approved. For a while I could enjoy the fairly benign conditions rounding the back of that weather...but the fun wasn't over. there was another problem ahead, approaching Lancaster (LRP) from the west. Given how fast that these cells were moving, I was sure that the cell would beat me to LRP and I'd have to work around another one.

Twenty minutes later, the Harrisburg Approach controller had suggested a 250 heading to work around the back of the cell that was raining all over the Lancaster airport. The NEXRAD image at left is 6 minutes old and the weather was already a couple miles east of the position shown, so the flight conditions were pretty mild. 10 more miles, then a turn to about a 210 heading and I'd be out of the woods. A quick look ahead showed no additional weather between me and home.

Just about when I expected it, the Harrisburg controller said, "Skylane 31 Sierra, turn left direct Baltimore, resume own navigation." It had been just about 100 minutes since the weather started to make life interesting. Once again, two important things were reinforced: On some nights, an on-board NEXRAD weather radar display is worth it's weight in gold; and there is no greater asset than to have on your team sharp controllers who have "got the flick."
The rest of the flight was uneventful...which was a good thing. I'd had sufficient fun for one day.

Hot Air!

2011-07-23T14:22:00.001-04:00

As I taxied N631S away from its tie-down at KBDR last evening, the outside air temperature (OAT) gauge read 102°. Now, that's toasty! I was anxious to get off the ground and up a few thousand feet to where it might be a little bit cooler.

Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. Half way to the runway, the ground controller said, "631 Sierra, for whatever reason, Approach has decided to modify your clearance...and it's a full-route clearance, so...advise ready to copy." I gave him a "Wilco" and pulled into a convenient spot for my run-up, then said, "31 Sierra is ready to copy."

I had filed for, and initially received, a clearance for what I've come to think of as "the usual route." It takes me west to Sparta (SAX) then south to Solberg (SBJ), then west again to Allentown and Reading, down to Lancaster, across Baltimore, and finally home to KVKX. The re-route was for a coastal flight path: Vectors to Deer Park (DPK) then airways over JFK and down past Atlantic City and Cape May, and across the DelMarVa peninsula toward home. Often, weather factors make this a desirable route but I usually have to beg and plead to get it. This time, it appeared spontaneously. Why? It's a mystery.

So I copied and read back the new clearance, did my run-up, then sat at the hold-short line for five or six minutes, quietly perspiring while awaiting IFR release. "Skylane 31 Sierra, cleared for takeoff" came at 2030Z.

As New York Approach cleared me to progressively higher altitudes, I kept the nose down and the speed up in an effort to keep the engine relatively cool. Instead of going for a good rate of climb, I kept the Vertical Speed Indicator (VSI) at 500 feet per minute. This allowed me to complete most of the climb up to 6,000 feet (my final altitude) at 100 knots indicated and kept my cylinder head temperatures around 400°F.

Level at 6,000 feet, the OAT was 73°. The "Top of Climb" checklist includes "Cowl Flaps – Close" but I left them wide open. Even so, with my normal cruise conditions set (throttle wide-open, 2350 RPM and 11.8 GPH fuel flow) the cylinder head temps were creeping up. Since I was operating on the lean side of peak exhaust gas temperatures, I knew that my power output was a simple function of fuel flow. I adjusted the mixture control for 11.4 GPH and watched with satisfaction as the temperatures of the hottest cylinder heads settled down to about 395°. I'd given up about 3 or 4 knots of true airspeed, but having a happy engine was more important.

With cruise conditions set, it was time to look ahead at the weather along the route. Before departure, radar had indicated some scattered thunderstorm activity and it would be prudent to see if any of that was scattered in places that N631S and I needed to go.

Just before New York Approach handed me off to McGuire Approach, I saw the picture at left on the weather display. Clearly, the cell just to the west of the Coyle VOR (CYN) would bear watching. Checking in with McGuire, I asked the controller what he was looking at down around Coyle and he said there was a cell west of the VOR, moving eastward with precipitation echoes up to Level 5 (that's mean stuff!)...and he might need to vector me around it. Of course, I concurred.
But as I watched, that storm cell dissipated as summer "popcorn" cells often will. By the time N631S and I got to CYN, it was just some light rain visible off to the right of the airway. False alarm, but better to be prepared.

The balance of the flight was warm but uneventful. Soon after crossing the Delaware Bay, Potomac Approach took me down to 4,000 feet where the OAT was 83°, and then (nearing the DC Class B airspace) down to 3,000 feet and an OAT of 88°. It was hazy, with a flight visibility of about five miles approaching KVKX, but I know where to look now and could report, "31 Sierra has the field in sight," in a timely way for the visual approach. The final controller cleared me for the visual and accepted my IFR cancellation. Now at 2,000 feet, the OAT was 95°. As some would say is normal, the DC area was full of hot air.

N631S and I were on the runway at 2238Z. The surface temperature was 93° – actually a bit cooler than it was 2,000 feet up. I promptly put the airplane to bed in the hangar and headed home in the convertible...with the top up and the air conditioning on.

Stormy Weather

2011-07-12T17:41:00.000-04:00

Last Friday afternoon I watched with concern as widespread convective weather developed over eastern Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Around 21Z I made my way over to KBDR and pre-flighted N631S, then went into the FBO to have a look at the weather radar. It was, in a word, ugly (see the image below, from 2129Z):

I've gotten used to being able to find a way around the typical summer afternoon weather, but this wasn't typical. The NEXRAD returns showed serious weather echoes to the north, west and south. Severe thunderstorms were reported in the area, with the conditions forecast to persist throughout the evening.

I called Lockheed-Martin Flight Service and had a talk with one of their specialists. We looked at the radar picture and tried to figure out a viable strategy for making the trip down to the DC area that evening. Neither the usual routing over eastern PA nor the coastal routing down over NJ held promise.

Finally I said, "I hate to admit defeat, but I think I'm going to pack it in and make the trip tomorrow morning."

"I'm really glad you said that," the briefer replied. "Because if you launched tonight in this stuff, I was going to have to do a lot of paperwork."

So I set an alarm for 5:15 AM the next morning, was off the ground at 6:04 AM and was back on the ground at KVKX at 8:18 AM.

Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor...and you've got to know when to say no.

Blue Stain Blues (cont'd)

2011-07-06T21:15:00.003-04:00

Eagle Fuel Cells held up their end of the deal and got the replacement fuel cell for N631S to my friends at Three Wing Flying Services yesterday. Below left, it sits on the table, looking much prettier than the old cell that was pictured in this earlier post.

This cell is an overhauled unit originally manufactured by FFC in 2004, which Eagle has supplied with a 5 year warranty. It's my understanding that there were quite a few cells from FFC dating from the 2002-2004 time frame that have experienced early mortality. I'm having faith that Eagle has learned what the problems were with the FFC cells and that their current overhaul procedures are effective in addressing them.

The failed fuel cell was installed in February 2003 by N631S's previous owner with the work being done by Lindner Aviation at Keokuk (IA) Municipal Airport. I sent off an e-mail to Greg Gobble, the boss at Lindner, asking if his records indicated the source of the failed cell. Greg has let me know that:

"The fuel cell was p/n 3030-23, s/n CR2909 purchased 2-4-2003 from Eagle. WO# N010303004. Looks like they have a 5 year warranty but it is worth a try."

Having purchased the overhauled cell from Eagle, I shall be speaking with them about a generous repurchase of the old core, considering that it provided only about 2/3 of the expected time in service. They have, of course, no legal obligation but they may wish to share in the consequences of their vendor's quality issues. I'll let you know what happens.

Just incidentally, if you are planning a serious cross-country flight, Keokuk Muni (KEOK) on the banks of the Mississippi River is a great place to stop for an overnight. Greg and his folks are wonderfully helpful, Keokuk is a nice town with good lodging options, and Lindner Aviation is a full-service FBO that can deal with about any problem you can imagine. They were the "minders" of N631S for about three years prior to our acquisition and they took excellent care of the airplane...as they will yours. VERY highly recommended.

Meanwhile back at KBDR, Mike Gavaghan has been making N631S's left wing fuel bay ready to receive the new fuel cell. The photo at left looks down into the bay, showing the installation of the protective tape over riveted seams. Getting the bay cleaned out and all of the tape in place is one of the nastier jobs and I'm grateful for Mike's patience and thoroughness. I suspect that by tomorrow morning the new cell will be in place and closing out will be the order of the day.

And next to N631S on the hangar floor, the lovely 1993 Pitts S-2B pictured below. Now, I have no desire whatsoever to be upside-down in an airplane, but if that's your thing it's hard to conceive of a nicer machine for the purpose.

Independence Day

2011-07-04T14:14:00.000-04:00

A couple of images, if you please, to capture the exuberance and the solemnity that are intertwined on our Independence Day.

First, the "bombs bursting in air" last night over the Potomac River. This view of the National Harbor program is from Alexandria's Founder's Park with the Wilson Bridge in the foreground. A thunderstorm had passed by headed southeast, about 45 minutes before and more than a few times "the rockets' red glare" was complemented by flashes of lightning in the clouds. It was a scene both unforeseeable and unsurpassable!

This morning, Patricia and I spent a couple of hours walking the grounds of Arlington National Cemetery, which occupies a commanding height that overlooks our capital.

We stopped to view the Eternal Flame at John Kennedy's grave. We watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns, as the Sentinels of the 3rd Infantry Division expressed on behalf of us all the incredible respect owed to our nation's fallen. And we visited Arlington House, the home of Robert E. Lee, where we could reflect that the ultimate use of his lands is fitting and proper indeed.

These thoughts and images aren't about aviation but rather, about the land where our love of aviation can be freely expressed in ways not possible anywhere else in the world. Freedom is cause for celebration and also demanding of reflection. Its price is often dear, but it allows us to soar beyond the heights we could reach without it.

NASA image posted elsewhere by Astronaut Doug Wheelock.

Blue Stain Blues

2011-07-01T17:36:00.003-04:00

Last Monday brought a sight no Cessna owner wants to see: a blue stain starting at the trailing edge of the left wing root, down the pilot's side door post and onto the fuselage. The classic signature of an AvGas leak - and probably a failed fuel cell.

So the airplane is in the shop. The left fuel cell has been drained (and the valuable 100LL is stored in drums (left) and will be returned to the new fuel cell using a filter-equipped pump).

N631S is a 1977 vintage Q-model Cessna 182. The adoption of the O-470U engine in 1977 triggered the change in model designation from 182P to 182Q. The '77s had 14 volt electrics and rubber fuel cells. The '78s went to 28 volt electrics and the '79s (last year for the Q's) went to a "wet wing" fuel system, eliminating the rubber fuel cells. There are two schools of thought on rubber fuel cells. On one hand, they inevitably require replacement. On the other hand, the "wet wing" design, if it ever does leak, can be very hard to fix. Also, in the event of a crash, it has been suggested that rubber bladders are less likely to burst than a wet-wing tank. (I am not aware of any definitive evidence supporting this.)

There on the table (left) sits N631S's removed fuel cell. The mechanics at Three Wing Flying Services opened up the wing, verified that none of the fittings or gaskets were causing the leak, and then extracted the old fuel cell. Once the cell was out of the bay, they cleaned out the gunk (a fuel leak makes a mess) and renewed the protective tape that covers all the pointy ends (rivets and such) that could put the new cell at hazard. Now we await the arrival of the replacement cell, due Tuesday.

After querying my knowledgeable friends at the Cessna Pilots Association about the best sources, I opted to purchase an overhauled fuel cell from Eagle Fuel Cells of Eagle River, WI. My options were: (1) have them overhaul my cell, for $395 to $425 and a three to four day turn-around; (2) purchase an overhauled cell outright for $550 with the option of selling them my failed cell for up to $100; (3) purchase a new cell for $950. Options 1 and 2 come with a 5 year warranty, while option 3 comes with a 10 year warranty. I chose option 2 for the quick turn-around and to keep the cost down.

Based on where the leaking fuel seemed to be collecting in the wing, the folks at Three Wing think there's a leak in the area of the "nipple" pictured at left. Nothing is visible - which is not, I'm told, uncommon.

The longevity of this fuel cell is a disappointment. The original cell installed by Cessna in the spring of 1977 lasted until late 1989 - 12 years 8 months. The second cell lasted 13 years 3 months, until February 2003. This one only lasted 8 years 4 months.

Other 182 owners have told me that the manufacturer of this cell had "quality issues" in the early years of the last decade and that I am far from alone in getting less than the expected life out of cells manufactured during that period. The unpleasant message is that I can probably anticipate a need to renew the cell on the right side before too much longer.

For those interested, I'll update this post when I get the bill so you'll know the number of shop hours needed for removal and re-installation. And, of course, this weekend's trip to the DC area and back will be courtesy of AMTRAK.

Ask For What You Need!

2011-06-28T18:29:00.001-04:00

For a variety of essentially uninteresting reasons, last Friday was extremely busy in a way that had nothing to do with aviation. It was noon before I had a chance to look at the weather or file a flight plan. I quickly came to the conclusion that the flight from KBDR down to KVKX might be mildly entertaining. I did, however, file a flight plan for the normal routing that takes me over eastern PA, then south into MD.

When I headed over to the airport at about 20Z, I knew that there was an active Sigmet covering most of eastern Pennsylvania and a good chunk of western New Jersey. I wasn't thrilled with the notion of flying the "usual route", that takes me west from KBDR to Sparta (SAX) then south to Solberg (SBJ) then west again into Allentown Approach's airspace. Lots of convective activity was forecast for that region.

On arrival at KBDR I paused in the flight planning room for another look at the radar depiction. Pennsylvania continued to look bad. Over New Jersey there were two strands of weather (I hesitate to call them "lines" - they weren't that organized), one just over the south-bound airway, one fairly far inland. It looked like I could "thread the needle" if I could get the New Jersey routing.

I went out into the slight drizzle and pre-flighted N631S, then raised Bridgeport Clearance Delivery on the handheld radio. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Bridgeport Clearance, Skylane 631 Sierra requesting a change to proposed IFR routing to VKX.
KBDR: Skylane 31 Sierra, say request.
Me: 31 Sierra is unable the routing via SAX due to extensive convective weather over eastern Pennsylvania airways. Request routing that starts with vectors Deer Park then Victor 1 then whatever they want at the south end.
KBDR: 31 Sierra, they're really busy down there right now. If you can give me the full route clearance you want I'll see if I can get it for you.
Me (ready for this): Skylane 31 Sierra requests vectors Deer Park, Victor 1, ENO, Victor 379, OTT direct.
KVKX: 31 Siera, that's Deer Park, Victor 1, ENO, Victor 379, OTT direct?
Me: Bridgeport Clearance, read back correct. (I always wanted to say that!)
KBDR: [click-click]

The controller was advising other aircraft to expect a significant delay prior to release, so I anticipated a bit of a wait, but in less than five minutes I was given exactly the clearance I'd requested! My comment to the KBDR controller: "Wow! They swallowed the whole thing!"

Bridgeport advised that New York Approach was still "looking at" my clearance and I'd better expect some changes en route. Fine...just get me out of Dodge and over New Jersey. And sure enough, while taxiing, I got a change (which I paused to copy): "after DPK, Victor 16 to DIXIE, Victor 1 to ATR, Victor 308, BILIT, DCA, direct." Not likely to work in the long run but OK for now.

With the modified clearance copied I reported in at taxiway Kilo, ready for takeoff, and was promptly cleared and rolling. N631S and I climbed into the schmoo at about 500 feet and New York approach soon had us radar identified and turned to a 180 heading, vectors for Deer Park. Leveling off at 4,000, I could see that we were just under the tops.

We made the turn to the south at JFK on top in bright sunshine. I was very interested in what weather was in store to the south along the airway. The NEXRAD display on the Garmin 396 (left) showed some moderate precip just west of DIXIE and some heavy (red) precip near Lakehurst NAS (KNEL). It seemed like it would be a good idea to hustle down the airway.

As it turned out, there was plenty of clearance on the way past Lakehurst. The weather was moving to the east quite slowly and I was beginning to feel pretty good about the trip. This spot of weather would not be a factor.

But looking ahead (on the NEXRAD display) I could see another cell that appeared to be approaching Coyle VOR (CYN). I asked the McGuire Approach controller what she saw on her radar. The answer was "there's moderate to extreme precipitation over Coyle." With the first area of rain passing to my right, I asked McGuire for a 10 degree left deviation to put some space between N631S and the weather at CYN. She said, "Approved as requested. Report back on course when able," but before that seemed like a good idea I was handed off to Atlantic City Approach.

I checked in with, "Atlantic City Approach, Skylane 631 Sierra level at 6,000 and deviating 10 left of the airway for weather avoidance." The controller responded, "Skylane 31 Sierra, Atlantic City Altimeter 29.89...tell you what, you can go direct Atlantic City then direct Waterloo now and that should keep you well east of that weather."

The resulting flight path nicely split the difference between the two cells of adverse weather (above left) and gave me a good view of some fairly heavy rain (for example, left) as I made my way south.

This proved to be the last bit of weather to influence the flight. The rest of the trip across New Jersey and the Delmarva peninsula was routine.

Looking back at it, the flight was a good example of an important principal in dealing with Air Traffic Control: "Ask for what you need." As busy as they were, New York Approach accommodated my need for a routing with less convective weather; and the controllers at McGuire and Atlantic City were quick to approve deviations that kept N631S and I away from trouble.

Courtesy of FlightAware.com, the entire route is depicted below.

Weather in Motion

2011-06-22T15:05:00.000-04:00

Last Friday's trip from KBDR down to KVKX was made interesting by weather in motion at each end of the flight. At the start, N631S and I had to wait for a line of convective activity to move out of the way and at the end we had a bit of a race to land at Potomac Airfield before some weather arrived.

The map at left (from the NWS' Hydrometeorolgical Prediction Center) shows the forecast conditions expected for 1800Z Friday. It depicts a remnant of an occluded/cold front from Lake Ontario down through lower New York with an associated region of rain and thundershowers.

And, in the event, the NEXRAD picture at 1835Z looked just about like you'd expect given that frontal picture. A line of convective weather was running from north of Poughkeepsie south through northern New Jersey. It wasn't the kind of weather you felt like going through and going around would require an extensive diversion. Better to wait it out. Unfortunately the line's speed of advance was only about 20 knots. It would be a while before it would pass to the east of Bridgeport so that N631S and I could head west.

At 2130Z (5:30PM local time) it was raining pretty hard at KBDR and by 2200Z it had slacked off to a drizzle as I did my pre-flight on N631S. There was still active weather lurking not far to the southwest but the radar picture looked good to the northwest. Runway 24 was active so when I picked up my clearance I asked the tower controller to request, on my behalf, an early turn to the northwest. I was pleased, after I taxied to the runway, to hear, "Skylane 631 Sierra, cleared for takeoff; on departure turn right to heading 330."

This screenshot of the Garmin 396, about ten minutes after departure, shows active cells to the south and clear weather ahead. Looking at it you'd think that I was in an area of moderate precipitation but in fact, here's what I saw out the window at 6,000 feet:

Once clear of the departure weather, the flight west across lower New York and into Pennsylvania was uneventful. At 8,000 feet for most of the trip, all of the clouds were below, the air was smooth and the winds were even a bit favorable. It wasn't until the Lancaster area that weather in motion once again became a subject of interest.

The storm cell (left) between Westminster (EMI) and Martinsburg (MRB) is the potential villain. It was moving fairly quickly southeast, straight for KVKX. Gaging the distances and speeds involved I thought I'd have time to land before the weather arrived.

But it was going to be a bit close. For the next 75 miles I watched that weather as I flew through Potomac Approach's airspace. If the weather got to KVKX before I did, then Plan B was to ask Approach to vector me off to the south somewhere and let me hold until the storm moved on. I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Fortunately, N631S won the race. Wheels on the runway at 0035Z, and the rain began five minutes later. I got a bit wet putting the airplane into its hangar but by the time everything was secured it had stopped.

Weather is always in motion. Sometimes (as with my departure weather) you wish it would move faster. Sometimes (as on arrival) you wish it would move slower. But always, you have to think about and adapt to the trend and the timing.

For the record, courtesy of the good folks at FlightAware.com, here's the track for the flight.

Fire in the Sky

2011-06-16T18:49:00.002-04:00

There is no hazard more feared in aviation than an in-flight fire. No other danger is quite so fraught with the combination of helplessness and horrific consequences. Two recent incidents in quick succession have shown once again that when there is fire in the sky, we balance on a knife-edge of fate.

"The only time an aircraft has too much fuel on board is when it is on fire."
-- attributed to Capt. Ernest K. Gann

On Monday morning, the B-17G Liberty Belle departed the Aurora, IL airport. Only a few minutes after takeoff the pilot of the T-6 flying in company with the old bomber notified it's crew that they were on fire. What happened next is recounted by Ray Fowler, the Liberty Foundation's Chief Pilot, on the organization's web site:

"Directly below the B-17 was a farmer’s field and the decision was made to land immediately. Approximately 1 minute and 40 seconds from the radio report of the fire, the B-17 was down safely on the field. Within that 1:40 time frame, the crew shutdown and feathered the number 2 engine, activated the engine’s fire suppression system, lowered the landing gear and performed an on-speed landing. Bringing the B-17 to a quick stop, the crew and passengers quickly and safely exited the aircraft."

Photo: Daily Herald

Most of the photos of this incident seen in the press depict the airframe completely ravaged by fire, giving the impression of an airplane meeting a violent end. The picture above tells us that this was not a "crash". In fact, Liberty Belle's pilots turned in a superb piece of airmanship getting the big Boeing on the ground, in an emergency, on an unprepared field, with the whole crew able to walk away. If fire apparatus had been able to gain access, the airplane may well have flown again.

But the key here was the rapidity with which the airplane was put on the ground once fire was detected. Fire in the sky gives you no time to waste. There have been far too many in-flight fires where time was either wasted or inadequate and tragedy ensued.

ValuJet 592, the DC-9 that crashed in the Everglades in 1996 after a mis-handled shipment of oxygen generators ignited in the cargo compartment.
Swissair 111, the MD-11 that crashed in the sea near Nova Scotia in 1998 after a fire started in the entertainment system's wiring. In that case the crew wasted precious time dumping fuel to avoid an overweight landing, allowing the fire to render the aircraft uncontrollable.
UPS Flight 6, a 747-400F freighter that crashed in September of last year near Dubai. Fire on the cargo deck created smoke so dense that the crew could no longer see the flight instruments. Shipments of lithium batteries have been implicated in the disaster.
The 2007 crash of a NASCAR-owned Cessna 310R in Sanford, FL. The accident (discussed in this blog HERE and HERE) where an electrical fire incapacitated the crew.

In all of these cases, time - never granted in abundance - ultimately ran out. The pilots of Liberty Belle, only minutes away from their departure airport, still made the correct decision. An airplane on fire has to be put on the ground now!

I wish that was the end of the story this week. We could regret the loss of a precious old airplane while rejoicing in the safety of her crew. But, fire in the sky wasn't done with us.

Photo: Der Stern

Word was slow coming from across the sea about the loss to fire of a blimp operating in Germany under contract to Goodyear. It's too soon to know the cause of the fire, but its consequences are tragically clear. The pilot got the airship close to the ground and told his three passengers to jump.

The airship pilot, Capt. Mike Nerandzic was a veteran of many years and many thousands of hours of blimp operations. He had to know exactly what would happen when 250 kilos of passenger weight suddenly exited the aircraft. Still, he told his passengers to jump, and they lived. The blimp shot upward and soon was completely ablaze. Mike Nerandzic, 52, from Australia, died in the fire.

Fire in the sky is a terrible thing. If it comes for us, there is so little we can do. We obsess about maintenance, we operate our systems conservatively, and we resolve to seek the ground at the first hint of spark or smoke. And we hope for the best.

Gone West, Capt. Mike Nerandzic, 1958-2011 Photo: Paul Riley/news.com.au

Today at KBDR

2011-05-31T16:46:00.002-04:00

After a totally uneventful flight this morning from the DC area to Connecticut, we found this classic gracing the ramp:

The aircraft is a Boeing B-17G named Yankee Lady. She is under the loving care of the Yankee Air Museum of Ypsilanti, MI and is spending a few days at KBDR where rides are available in exchange for a modest contribution.

Remember, the purpose of an airplane engine is to convert money into noise and a big radial does that better than anything else!

Memorial Day

2011-05-30T10:52:00.002-04:00

It seems to me that in recent years the general consciousness of the purpose, the intent of the Memorial Day holiday has been improving. Less about picnics and parades and retail extravaganzas. More about remembrance and reflection. If my perception is accurate, then that's cause for satisfaction.

My friend, E.B. Misfit, has posted eloquently on the meaning of the day, and she says in part:

"From 1775 through today, men and women have gone to serve this nation in both times of war and peace. Many never lived to see their homes again. They did not ask if those conflicts were wise or not. Duty called and they went.

Many more, of course, did come home. Most hale and hearty, others suffering various injuries to their bodies, their brains and their souls. For these veterans, it is the duty of our nation to take care of them (and hang the expense)."

A small part of our duty is to maintain, as islands of tranquility and everlasting expressions of our gratitude, the final resting places of those who fell and remained on distant shores. One such place is the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial.

The cemetery is on the grounds of the former Fort McKinley which was recaptured on 17 February 1945 from Japanese forces by elements of the 11th Airborne Division. One of many to give the last full measure of devotion on that day was 21 year old TEC 4 Edmund J. Peters, Jr., 188th Glider Infantry Regiment. He rests beneath one of those crosses. Ed was my mother's younger brother, hence my uncle.

Each Memorial Day I raise a glass to Uncle Ed's memory and I reflect on my reasons to be grateful. First, of course, for the sacrifices of Ed Peters and all of his buddies and all those that have followed in their boot tracks. They each gave some or all of themselves so that we may continue to enjoy the fruits of freedom.

And then, also for the fact that looking at Ed's picture and recollecting his story makes Memorial Day personal for me.

It's been said death is not final so long as someone remembers. I hope that for every fallen hero we honor on this day at least one person takes on the responsibility of learning all that can be learned about their story and then makes certain that story will live on. Their gift to us is far too valuable to ever allow any of them to be forgotten.

"Opfer müssen gebracht werden!"

2011-05-27T23:08:00.004-04:00

The news was bad...as bad as it could be. And yet, not unexpected. We all knew what was likely and we all made a concerted effort to ignore the odds and to hope. And for those that believed, to pray. But deep, deep inside we weren't kidding ourselves. Nonetheless, Kyle Franklin's post on his Facebook page last evening was gut wrenching.

Most of you are aware of the accident in mid-March, when Kyle and Amanda Franklin - two of the very best airshow performers - were seriously injured in the crash of their Waco biplane after an engine failure. Kyle's injuries were serious; Amanda's were horrific. She suffered burn injuries of the most serious kind involving most of her skin area. Anyone who knows anything about burn injuries recognized immediately that the prognosis was not good. But she and her loved ones and her care-givers fought against the probable ending for 75 days.

The entire aviation community rallied to Amanda's support. But this time, no miracles will be forthcoming. The effects of her burns have overwhelmed the defenses of her young, fit body and the skills and determination of the best medical specialists in the world at Brook Army Medical Center's Burn Center.

Kyle has told us that he and Amanda's family have asked her care-givers to cease their heroic efforts to prolong her life. With this inconceivably difficult decision on his part, her way West is now open. Soon she'll be gone, joining the other aviators that have followed the trail blazed by Otto Lilienthal so long ago. His last words: "Opfer müssen gebracht werden!" "Sacrifices must be made."

But why? Why must these sacrifices be made? What god, behind what altar, thirsts after the blood and flesh of these splendid young people? Look, if you will, at this list of airshow incidents beginning in 1910 and ending with Kyle and Amanda's accident. It's a horrible butcher's bill.

I've been to my share of airshows. I've watched Sean Tucker and Mike Goulian do things with airplanes that I'd have thought impossible. I've watched the aerial demonstration teams light up the sky with the splendor of their performances. But I think I'm done. The game isn't worth the candle.

If a pilot wants to take a fully aerobatic airplane out to the practice area and "wring it out," more power to her. If this is what you're reaching for, may you find it:

"Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air."

But I'll no longer accept the Roman circuses. Enough of "The show must go on!" Just as aviation outgrew the time of the Barnstormers, perhaps we've outgrown the high-risk airshow exhibition. It's not my place to say it shouldn't be allowed...but it is my prerogative to say that I won't watch anymore.

UPDATE: A little after 10 PM CDT on Friday 27 May, 2011, Amanda Franklin passed away. She was surrounded by those who loved her and in the thoughts of aviators everywhere.

The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore!

2011-05-23T21:11:00.000-04:00

It's starting to seem that low, gray weather has descended on southern New England and isn't going to depart any time soon! I've commented earlier that last Monday's weather was sufficiently un-promising for me to resort to the train. This week, as of Sunday evening, things looked a bit better. The Terminal Area Forecast (TAF) for Bridgeport as of 00Z (8:00 PM local time) looked like this:

 
KBDR 222329Z 2300/2324 15008KT P6SM OVC025 
     FM230200 14006KT 6SM -DZ BR OVC012 
     FM230500 14005KT 5SM -DZ BR OVC007 
     FM231600 17011KT P6SM BKN009 OVC012

Anticipating an arrival around 14Z (reference the line "FM230500"), the forecast called for visibility of five statute miles (5SM) in light drizzle (-DZ) and mist (BR) with an overcast layer at 700 feet (OVC007). OK, not so bad. I filed for an 0745 local time IFR departure.

When I got up about at 5:30 AM (0930Z), things were looking less good. Bridgeport was reporting a 400 foot overcast and nearby terminals were that bad or worse. But conditions from central New Jersey and south were fairly good and I was tired of not flying. So...press on! I have over six hours of fuel in N631S and if I had to I could fly to Bridgeport, miss the approach, fly back to Maryland and land where I'd started. Lots of options.

I was off the runway at Potomac airfield at 1152Z (i.e., a few minutes before 8:00 AM), and at that time Bridgeport was reporting:

 
KBDR 231152Z 12009KT 3SM BR OVC004 12/11 A3010 RMK AO2 SLP194

That's 3 miles visibility in mist with a 400 foot overcast. Since the minimums for the ILS Rwy 6 approach are 3/4 mile and 307 feet, it remained a workable situation.

The flight up into the New York area was uneventful. There was some spotty precipitation over Cape May, NJ and south of KJFK, but none of it was a factor for the flight. Along the way, I picked up an updated TAF:

 
KBDR 231311Z 2313/2412 13010KT 5SM BR OVC004
     FM231600 16012KT 6SM BR BKN008 BKN015
     FM232300 18010KT 4SM BR VCSH OVC006
     FM240600 20007KT 2SM BR OVC004=

This was telling me to expect visibility of five statute miles in mist and an overcast layer at 400 feet. The "13010KT" group told me to expect a modest crosswind from the right.

New York Approach did their usual professional job getting me across JFK and down to the approach altitude. A nice aspect of using the ILS 6 at Bridgeport is that coming up from JFK, Vectors-to-Final are almost straight in, so the arrival is very efficient.

At the start of the approach the weather was:

 
KBDR 231352Z 11008KT 4SM BR OVC004 13/11 A3008 RMK AO2 SLP186

Four miles in mist with a 400 foot overcast. N631S and I were vectored to the localizer and advised to maintain 2,000 feet until established. Once we were on the localizer New York stated "Radar service terminated" and "Contact Bridgeport tower on 120.9." I called the tower and heard, "N631S, not in sight, cleared to land."

Since we were going almost all the way down to minimums, I let the STEC System 50 autopilot mind the localizer while I concerned myself with staying on the glide-slope. There was no turbulence at all so staying on the glide slope was easy. Still, a certain amount of tension builds as the altimeter winds down, especially as it approaches the reported ceiling. I think we broke out at about 350 feet, with the runway threshold about a mile ahead. How very nice.

The landing itself was uneventful. As I put the cover on N631S I reflected on how satisfying it is to fly a successful approach to minimums. Now, if only the weather would break - we could use some sun.

A Bit Too Low for Me

2011-05-16T10:00:00.001-04:00

The widespread low IFR weather in the Northeast has led me to opt this week for travel via AMTRAK from DC to Connecticut. Here are some of the METAR's on offer at 1330Z, about the time I'd have been nearing KBDR had I taken N631S out of the hangar this morning:

 
KBDR 161312Z 05009KT 2SM -RA BR OVC005 12/11 A2974 RMK AO2 RAB05 P0000
KOXC 161245Z 08009G16KT 050V110 1/2SM FG VV002 10/09 A2975
KDXR 161310Z 06007KT 1 1/2SM BR OVC004 11/11 A2974 RMK AO2
KBDL 161251Z 01009KT 10SM -DZ OVC012 12/09 A2978 RMK AO2 SLP085 P0000 
KPOU 161253Z 11006KT 10SM -RA OVC011 13/11 A2970 RMK AO2 RAB18E33B53 
KHVN 161253Z 03008KT 10SM OVC005 13/11 A2973 RMK AO2 SLP068 T01280111
KGON 161256Z 04014G19KT 10SM OVC007 12/10 A2975 RMK AO2 SLP075 T01220100

That observation for KBDR – light rain, mist, and overcast at 500 feet – is just what the Terminal Area Forecast (TAF) was calling for, and it isn't terrible. The minimums for the ILS Rwy 6 approach are one mile and 300 feet, so you could take a shot. My problem is that the low conditions are very widespread and expected to continue for quite a while.

If I took the chance, flew up to KBDR and was unable to get in, I would have needed to divert (probably to Bradley (KBDL) or Poughkeepsie (KPOU)) and would have been faced with a long-ish drive in a rental car. So, I opted for the certainty of the train.

Of course, this locks me into rail travel for the return trip on Friday when, presumably, the sun will be shining. Ah, well, that's aviation.

How's This for a Switch?

2011-05-14T16:23:00.000-04:00

In this post, last week, I mentioned that the Push-to-Talk (PTT) switch on N631S's pilot's side control yoke had failed, that the replacement Cessna part was on the pricey side, and that the search was on for a more reasonably priced alternative.

After an uneventful flight back to Connecticut last Monday (using my old portable PTT switch left over from student-pilot days), I conferred with my favorite spark chaser, Dave, at Three Wing Avionics. Dave felt that the low-cost switch could be installed as a standard part so I promptly ordered one from Rob at Rob-Air Repair LLC for $17.99 plus about five bucks for Priority Mail shipping.

The switch arrived in two days and Dave installed it (left) in N631S.

I admit to being a little annoyed about the failed switch. It was installed as a replacement in July of 2009 and lasted for all of 21 months. For a gold-plated aerospace quality part, that's not very good. Asking around, I've heard that these switches (manufactured by Mason) are a common source of trouble. Unlike most momentary-contact switches, the design includes a "tactile feedback" feature (i.e., it clicks). Some folks speculate that the mechanical detent that provides the click is the switch's Achille's heel.

The new PTT switch performed "ops normal" on yesterday's flight back to the DC area. The flight was uneventful but did offer two comment-worthy events.

At left is the speed/altitude profile courtesy of FlightAware.com. If you enlarge it you'll see a segment where the altitude plot goes up to 9,000 feet. That happened when one of the New York Approach controllers moved me higher to let a faster aircraft (I believe it was a DeHavilland Dash 8) pass below me. The next sector took me back down to 8,000. It's comment-worthy only because most controllers would, I believe, have given me an "off-airway" vector to solve the problem. I was just as happy with the altitude change.

There was a bit of weather in the DC area on arrival, so N631S and I wound up shooting the RNAV Rwy 6 approach into KVKX. We descended into the schmoo at about 4,000 feet on the way down from BAL and broke out of the bases at 1,200 feet on final about 1.5 miles out. The instrument approach probably lengthens the overall trip by about 0.3 hours but I was happy to have it because I'm now IFR current through August.

Life's Little Annoyances

2011-05-07T20:44:00.004-04:00

The first 95% of yesterday's flight from KBDR down to KVKX in the DC area was uneventful. I like uneventful. Then, as N631S and I got within about seven miles of home plate it got a little bit interesting. I don't care for interesting.

It pleased me no end, that one of the control sectors as I worked my way through Potomac Approach's airspace was being minded by my friend Sarah. We did, "Washington altimeter is 29.82, hi, Frank," and "29.82, 31 Sierra, hi Sarah!" And I felt so very comfortable and at home with that familiar voice on the frequency. In due course I was handed off to one of Sarah's colleagues who gave me a descent to 1,500 feet MSL, turned me toward KVKX, and asked me to report the field in sight. That's when it got interesting.

I acknowledged the transmission, turned toward KVKX, and soon reported that "31 Sierra has the field in sight." I then heard the controller say, "Skylane 31 Sierra, cleared for the visual approach to VKX." I acknowledged that transmission..."31 Sierra, cleared for the visual at VKX."

Then, I heard, "Skylane 631 Sierra, cleared for the visual approach, VKX." Umm...already heard and acknowledged. Whazzup? "31 Sierra, cleared visual at VKX," got me "Skylane 31 Sierra, if you can hear me, IDENT."

Oh, crap. Here I am in the most secure airspace in the western hemisphere and, while I'm not "NORDO" I seem to be "no-transmit". I hit the IDENT button on the transponder.

My controller came back with, "31 Sierra, IDENT observed; you are cleared visual approach to KVKX, keep your squawk code until on the ground then cancel IFR with Potomac Approach as soon as possible."

I switched to the #2 radio, no joy. That's when I noticed (finally!) that pressing the Push-to-Talk (PTT) switch on the yoke was not producing the distinctive "click" in the headset. OK, bad PTT switch. I reached down and grabbed the handheld mike.

By this time I'm turning onto the right downwind for runway 24 at KVKX. Using the handheld mike I transmitted, "Approach, 631 Sierra." The response: "Ah, there you are! I think I must have stepped on you." (Not!) "Change to advisory frequency approved, keep your squawk until on the ground."

I quickly responded, "31 Sierra, over to CTAF, cancel IFR at this time," and got, "IFR cancellation received..." Phew!

The landing at KVKX was uneventful. Sarah, if you're checking this out, let your colleague know that he did not step on me. It was an equipment issue and he was BRILLIANT! He can be my final controller any time!

There at left is the little bastard that I think failed (unless it turns out that it's a wiring issue).

That little guy is a Mason 611-4302 momentary contact switch. If you want to buy it under the Mason part number, it's just about $200.00. Cessna assigns their own part number to the Mason switch. It's Cessna p/n S1985-1 and they want about $156.00 for it.

Now, it seems that Rob-Air Repair LLC in Silverdale, WA, offers a part numbered RA S1985-1 as a direct replacement for this silly little switch, for $17.99 each. I have an e-mail in to the Rob of Rob-Air, asking him to provide the approval basis for his switch so I can convince Dave at Three Wing to install the low cost option.

Meanwhile I trust you have one of these (left), and it works, and you can fetch it up without looking down to where it's stowed. Better if you can slip it back in it's holder without looking down. I couldn't, and just dropped it on my lap. Rest assured, stowing the handheld mike will now be practiced until I get it right.

As for Monday morning, I have one of these (left) left over from my Student Pilot days 17 years ago. A portable PTT switch, that can be secured to the yoke with Velcro strips and is able to bypass the yoke-mounted PTT switch. Should be good to go.

Never a dull moment, eh? Well, that's what makes it fun.

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"Fix Your Little Problem and Light This Candle"

2011-05-05T18:53:00.001-04:00

Half a century ago, the fifth of May was a Friday and I was in 7th Grade in New Jersey. Shortly after the school day began our teachers marched us (the older kids, at least) into the small auditorium where a black-and-white television sat on a table on the stage. From our seats we squinted to discern history being made in the snowy image. Fifty years ago today, this is what we saw:

It's interesting to remember something that happened fifty years ago. An initial reaction is, "Damn! I'm older than dirt!" But then you can stop and reflect, and appreciate the perspective of the long view.

We watched as Cdr. Alan B. Shepard, Jr. became the first American to ride a rocket into space, inaugurating NASA's Manned Spaceflight Program. That first suborbital toe-in-the-water soon begat the Mercury orbital flights, then the Gemini developmental flights, then the Apollo missions that led - after just over eight years - to another black-and-white video image of Neil Armstrong stepping onto the surface of the Moon.

The most incredible adventure in the history of Western civilization started fifty years ago today. Guys in short-sleeved white shirts, with pocket protectors and, for God's sake, slide rules, designed and built incredible machines to take other guys, with ice water for blood and the famous Right Stuff, to another world and home again. There were heroes (Shepard was the first) and martyrs. There was the tragedy of the Apollo 1 fire, the triumph of Apollo XI and (before we awakened fully from the dream) the high drama of Apollo XIII. Oh, it was magnificent.

And then we lost interest. Just twelve years after Al Shepard told the engineers to "fix (their) little problem and light this candle," Gene Cernan climbed the ladder on Challenger, the Apollo XVII Lunar Module and became the last man to walk on the Moon. The last three Apollo missions were cancelled. The awesome Saturn V, the ultimate evolution of expendable rocket technology, flew once more to put Skylab into orbit, then never flew again.

It had never been about exploration. It had never been about choosing to do things because they are hard. It had always been about beating the Russians. Once the checkered flag had come down on the space race, the country turned away toward other concerns. NASA, left more or less without a job, lofted a few patchwork missions - three Skylab crews and ASTP - and waited around for the Space Transportation System (STS) - the Space Shuttle - to be ready.

NASA described the STS in glowing terms. We were going to make travel to Low Earth Orbit (LEO) routine. We would launch every two weeks. It would cost $100 to put a pound of stuff in orbit. We'd build observatories and space stations. Out of naiveté or desperation, they believed their own propaganda.

The Space Shuttle is a magnificent machine. But it was never going to be anything other than an incredibly complex, high-risk, experimental aerospace vehicle. The pre-Shuttle astronauts came almost exclusively from the ranks of test pilots, and they never had any illusions about their jobs. The Shuttle astronauts, despite the inclusion of scientists and engineers and politicians and a school teacher, have also always been test pilots. The way the game was rigged was exposed when Challenger exploded.

Now we are anticipating the launch in late June of the last Shuttle mission. Challenger and Columbia are gone, sacrificed to the normalization of deviance that bedevils so many technology-intensive programs. Discovery, Endeavour and Atlantis are headed for museums and American astronauts headed for the International Space Station will be hitching rides on Russian rockets. After a couple of months more than fifty years, the American Manned Spaceflight Program will end.

The Shuttle, conceived (or mis-conceived) in response to NASA's need for an ongoing mission, is a magnificent technological dead-end. A look at the history of technology and in particular the history of transportation technology, will reveal many comparable instances where a technical paradigm evolved to produce a machine so wholly admirable as to capture the heart, and yet destined for the scrapyard (or, if lucky, for static display).

Donald McKay's clipper ships were the ultimate embodiment of wind-driven maritime transport. For a time in the mid nineteenth century they dominated the sea lanes and yet in a flash, they were gone. Mundane but reliable coal-fired steamers drove the clippers from the seas.

The steamers had their own century, mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth, and they too evolved to a peak exemplified by the liner SS United States. Nearly 60,000 tons, with a quarter-million shaft horsepower to drive her at nearly 40 knots, she had no peer on the trans-Atlantic run. But she did not sail for long before jet aircraft did to her what her ancestors did to the clippers. Now, she rusts quietly at a pier in Philadelphia.

The same jets that ended the career of the United States also wrote the last chapter for piston-engined commercial aircraft like the Lockheed Constellation. The "Connie", according to my friend Dennis Wolter "the most beautiful technological artifact ever designed by man," was the ultimate evolution of the propeller driven airliner and we aviation romantics can't forget the song of those four Wright R3350 turbo-compound engines. But beauty in commerce takes second seat to efficiency and so the Connie's and the DC-7's and the Stratocruisers went away.

The list goes on. The mighty steam locomotives, the graceful Concorde, and now, the Space Shuttle. Successful and at the same time doomed. Like the dinosaurs, unable to survive a changed environment.

It's been an exhilarating, exasperating ride these fifty years. I sat in that grammar school auditorium and watched Alan Shepard begin America's Manned Spaceflight Program. I watched its triumphs as the Apollo VIII crew circled the Moon at Christmas, 1968, and as Armstrong and Aldrin loped over the lunar surface. I held my breath as we waited for the Apollo XIII crew to come safely home and I suffered heartache in the aftermaths of the Challenger and Columbia tragedies. And I expect to watch the end of the journey as Atlantis plunges toward the threshold of the runway at Kennedy Space Center, flares at the last second and settles onto the ground for the last time. That, I expect, will be a bittersweet moment.

And then? Will manned space flight rise again, Phoenix-like, in this country - driven this time by the efforts of men like Sir Richard Branson and Elon Musk? Is a good dose of the American Entrepreneurial Spirit™ all that we need here? Pardon me if I am not reassured.

Let us toast the heroes and mourn the fallen. Let's retell the stories of great efforts and great achievements. And finally, always, let us hope.

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We're Not in Kansas Any More

2011-04-30T16:14:00.005-04:00

At about 7:00 pm on last Wednesday I received an e-mail from my son that said: "Visually confirmed tornados headed NE toward Andrews. Looks like KVKX is in the path." I was in Connecticut and N631S was tied down at KBDR so my exposure was limited to the car that was parked in the hangar.

It turns out that the tornado in question, while just a pup in comparison with the monsters that decimated parts of Alabama this past week, was nevertheless a significant and damaging event. The storm called on KVKX, paying it just enough attention to damage a number of aircraft, then moved on to Andrews AFB. (UPDATE: There was a YouTube video here, giving a fine impression of the power of the tornado, but it's been taken down by the originator.)

I've fetched out some of the historic NEXRAD data for the time period and it certainly looks like a concentrated dose of nasty weather (click to animate):

When I arrived at VKX last evening after a flight down from KBDR I got a look at some of the aftermath. It's heartbreaking to see this sort of damage to aircraft.

N7508G is a 1970 Cessna 172K. I spoke with one of its owners who told me that the wing spar is bent and several floor stringers are deformed. The structural damage probably means that the airplane will be a write-off.

N86121 is a 1969 Skymaster owned by David Wartofsky (who also owns and operates KVKX). David may get to use his airplane again after the left wing is replaced and some damage to the lower vertical stabilizers is repaired.

As a Skylane lover, this one hurts. N3423R is a 1968 182L that clearly will fly no more. The storm picked this airplane up and smashed it to the ground. The prop is bent, the fuselage is twisted and nose gear collapsed and the wings bent. There's almost no part that's undamaged! The power needed to do that to a machine weighing in the neighborhood of a ton is awesome.

Here in the northeast/mid-Atlantic we don't usually think about tornadoes as a high-probability event. Tornadoes are things that happen in Kansas! But this is the second one at KVKX in three years. Let's hope we're not seeing the beginnings of a pattern.

2011 Annual Inspection (vii)

2011-04-26T19:03:00.001-04:00

For the last couple of years I've wound up the series of posts on the Annual Inspection with a look at the final invoice. You can look back at "what it cost and why" for 2010 and for 2009. Now, here's a rundown on 2011.

This year was a little more expensive than either of the past two, at a "gross" cost of $6,858.69. Because I pre-paid Three Wing for the Flat-Rate portion of the inspection I received a discount of $722.50. So my net cost for N631S's Annual was $6,273.36. By comparison the last two years have been in the neighborhood of $5,000.

The cost of the Flat-Rate annual (discounted), additional inspections and AD research totaled $1,057.90. (Without the discount it would have been $1,780.40.) The total for items that might be viewed as "normal maintenance" was $1,331.19. That includes changing the oil, timing the magnetos, servicing the tires, wheels and battery, cleaning or replacing assorted screens and filters, dressing the prop and servicing the spark plugs.

The spark plug item included $197.88 for six new Champion RHB32E massive-electrode plugs in the upper positions. The "screens and filters" work covers six items and consumed 3.5 hours of labor ($301 worth) and $73.86 in parts; a total of $374.86.

So inspections and maintenance set me back $2,389.09, Now we can talk about actually fixing things.

In order of descending cost, the items revealed by the inspection (or "squawked" by me) that required repair were:

$481.90 to install a servicable Pointer 3000 121.5 MHz ELT, replacing the one damaged by battery corrosion.
$451.05 to install a new Zeftronics R15V00 Rev A alternator controller.
$409.83 to replace the chafed right main gear brake line.
$388.46 to replace an assortment of deteriorated cowling shock mounts and Cleco fasteners.
$363.99 to replace the broken left main gear strut fairing.
$316.25 to apply CorrosionX to the wing, aft fuselage and empennage interiors.
$210.65 to replace a failed CHT probe.
$209.70 to replace the left main gear brake disk that was worn below serviceable limits.

Those repair items add up to $2,831.83. That include 13.9 hours of labor ($1,195.40 worth), the balance being for parts and shipping.

Additional to the foregoing there were $915.27 worth of minor repair items. You know the sort, "stop drilled crack"; "dressed prop blades"; "cleared cable chafe"; "replaced bolt". At a couple of tenths of an hour each they add up.

The total of Inspections & Maintenance ($2,389.09) plus Significant Repair Items ($2,831.83) plus Minor Repair Items ($915.27) added up to $6,136.19. Add in an Airport Use Fee of $137.17 and you get to the full net cost of $6,273.36.

As I've noted in the past, no one ever suggested that aviation was an inexpensive pastime. But I reflected this weekend, as I flew (as described in this post) from Connecticut to the DC area and back, that dealing with the vagaries of nature and ATC are quite enough to occupy the mind. I don't care to worry about the condition of the machine and so I regard maintenance dollars, thoughtfully expended, as a good investment.

I'd like to conclude with a few words of appreciation for the excellent fellow I've referred to as "Mike the IA". This year's Annual is the third one that Mike Gavaghan has done for me and N631S. Working with him has been a consistent pleasure. He is rigorous and knowledgeable, creative and pragmatic. Mike has always been patient with my occasionally naive questions and maintains his good nature despite my daily 0730 visits. He makes sure that I'm safe but is always conscious of the costs of work on aircraft and is willing to adopt lower-cost approaches when they're safe and legal.

The fact is that I will, and in fact do, trust my life to Mike. I recommend Mike and the rest of the great maintenance crew at Three Wing Flying Services to anyone who'll listen and I hope to work with him again next year.

There and Back Again

2011-04-25T18:48:00.001-04:00

The weekend just past brought the opportunity to fly N631S from Connecticut to DC on Friday and back again on Monday, for the first time in weeks.

Friday afternoon's weather called for some serious thinking. The high pressure area in the northeast combined with a front approaching from south and west was pulling moisture into the mid-Atlantic states and the freezing levels were not all that high. The conditions forecast for eastern Pennsylvania were particularly menacing. Reading and Lancaster were anticipating light rain, overcast around 4,000 to 5,000 MSL and the freezing level in the same neighborhood. I decided that I really wanted to do the trip over the coastal route where the terrain would let me fly a lot lower if necessary.

Of course my expected route, regardless of what I filed, was the usual "vectors to SAX thence V249 SBJ V30 ETX V39 LRP V93 BAL Direct." Not what I needed. After I got N631S pre-flighted I told the controller working the Clearance Delivery frequency that I'd have to "unable" any clearance via SAX due to icing conditions over Pennsylvania and that I needed an alternate routing. He asked me what I wanted and I said, "Deer Park, Victor 16 to ENO, then Victor 268 to Nottingham, Direct," and he asked me to stand by.

About ten or twelve minutes passed and he came back, saying "I think I have something that'll work for you." What he had was: DPK V1 LEEAH V268 GOLDA BAL Direct. That was fine to get me on my way and across JFK to New Jersey. The southern end would need some tweaking but I could work that out with Atlantic City or Dover Approach. N631S and I launched and headed south toward the weather.

The flight provided another nice example of to characteristics of composite NEXRAD weather radar images. The screenshot at left shows N631S just northwest of Atlantic City and based on just that image you'd suspect that we were flying through steady light rain. Well, you'd be wrong.

At left, the view through the windscreen two minutes earlier. I'm sure that the rain existed, but there was none at 4,000 feet. It was all above the overcast and was at that point not reaching the lower altitudes. I'm a fervent fan of NEXRAD in the cockpit, but the information conveyed by the images has to be thoroughly understood and supplemented with input from the Mark I eyeball.

It was about then that I called Atlantic City Approach to "clean up" the southern portion of my clearance. I told them, "the clearance has me going to Baltimore thence direct to destination, VKX. I don't want to go to Baltimore and I don't think Potomac TRACON wants me there either. Can we do after LEEAH Victor 268 to GOLDA then direct Nottingham, direct?" That brought a couple minutes of silence. Then the controller said, "31 Sierra, I haven't forgotten you, I'm just trying to find it. Where IS VKX?" I told him, "It's Potomac Airfield, just a few miles southwest of Andrews."

That solved the problem. "OK," he said, "I can give you the Andrews routing. You can go direct Waterloo - that's ATR - from there. Then it'll be Victor 308, Nottingham, Direct."

I could deal with that. The "direct ATR" part resulted in a little longer "single-engine over water" leg than I'm happy with, but sometimes that's just part of the IFR world. I've got a lot of faith in that Continental O-470U that pulls N631S along the airways.

If you look at that clip from FlightAware.com, you'll see a fair amount of weather approaching VKX from the south and west. The weather depicted in the image is over an hour prior to my actual arrival and in fact, we entered moderate precipitation soon after reaching the DelMarVa peninsula and it kept up all the way to VKX. And, the temperature at 4,000 feet hovered around 34F. I was happy to be no higher.

Of course, the weather necessitated flying the RNAV Rwy 6 approach to VKX. The AWOS on the field does not offer ceiling information but nearby Andrews AFB was saying they had 1,200 overcast. The MDA for the approach is 680 MSL so I felt pretty confident. Well, descending through 1,200 feet, no joy. Through 1,000 feet, still in the schmoo. At 900 I was starting to think about the miss. But (hooray!) we broke out of the ragged ceiling at around 850 feet and continued to an uneventful landing. It was good to have N631S back home.

This morning's return trip was interesting in other ways. When I arrived at VKX there was some ground fog but it was dissipating nicely by the time I got N631S out of the hangar, pre-flighted and taxied around to the fuel island. (I had skipped fueling on Friday to avoid getting rained on.) After topping the tanks I went into the office to call PCT's Mt. Vernon sector for my clearance.

The controller was as friendly as ever, but there were some changes in the telephone procedure. When I said I could depart VFR he emphasized that I had to do so on a 180 heading (normally understood and unspoken) and he read to me the clearance I could "expect" and emphasized that I was "not cleared to anywhere" until I got the clearance from the controller after radar identification. I commented on the changes and he said they were "fine tuning procedures." I'm just guessing, but perhaps this has something to do with Mrs. Obama's Terrifying Go-Around.

After departure, the first part of the flight was unremarkable, save for the presence of an excellent tailwind that had us clocking 160-165 knots ground speed most of the way north in brilliant sunshine at 7,000 feet. But from just north of Atlantic City to around JFK the ceilings below were extremely low. I listened to a Gulfstream requesting the ILS into Miller AirPark in Tom's River (KMJX) and asking McGuire Approach to revise his outbound clearance, to Milwaukee, to originate at KMJX instead of KBLM. Presumably they were unable to get into Bellmar and diverted to Miller. Minutes later they were back up, on the miss and requesting another approach. As the McGuire controller vectored them around for another try he requested the flight conditions on their first approach. The pilot reported "We just picked up a light as we went missed at 200 feet. That's why we're trying it again."

Kennedy had a 400 foot ceiling and very limited visibility, but the north shore of the sound was better. As I was getting vectored for the ILS Rwy 6 approach, Bridgeport was reporting broken cloud layers at 2,300 and 3,800 feet with ample visibility, making the approach pretty much a formality.

With the help of the tailwind, the northbound flight had taken 1.9 hours. Friday's trip south was 2.6 hours so the round trip totaled a very efficient 4.5 hours.

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2011 Annual Inspection (vi)

2011-04-23T16:47:00.000-04:00

The 2011 Annual Inspection of N631S is history. Mike the IA finished all the work and had the airplane closed up last Tuesday morning. The CorrosionX treatment was completed and the replacement ELT and new voltage regulator were installed.

I discussed the ELT replacement a couple of posts ago. It took Mike a couple of hours to adapt the baseplate from the new Pointer ELT to the installed bracket from the old unit. He also needed to re-route some cabling to reach the connector locations on the new unit. But the result looks good and didn't cost nearly what the installation of a new 406 MHz unit would have.

The replacement voltage regulator is a Zeftronics R15V00(Rev A) solid state unit with an integral over-voltage sensor. The existing (and occasionally troublesome) over-voltage sensor was removed. The old voltage regulator was original equipment.

Wednesday morning I returned all of the loose items to the aircraft and during the day the line crew at Three Wing washed it. Then Thursday morning I took it up for a brief (0.4 hour) test flight. There was only one squawk - when I did my pre-flight I found that one of the landing lights was not illuminating. I wasn't about to tell Mike to pull the cowling off again just for that; I'll replace it at the next oil change.

The new voltage regulator controlled the bus voltage at about 13.2v with all of the night operations "stuff" turned on, where the old one was giving me barely more than 12v. I expect this will put an end to the weak-battery disease that has plagued N631S over the last couple of winters.

With a successful return-to-service test flight completed, N631S and I were all set for a Friday afternoon flight back to the DC area...which is fodder for another post.

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More About Sleep

2011-04-19T09:05:00.000-04:00

Driving to work this morning and listening to NPR, who do I hear but our friend Don Brown (of Get the Flick fame) being interviewed in a story about the controller fatigue issue.

The story is pretty well done and Don's take on the matter is cogent. Check it out!

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To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

2011-04-18T17:05:00.000-04:00

This morning I received an e-mail from a veteran air traffic controller whose name I will not use here. I'd like to share his remarks with you:

Hello Frank,
I might be venting here a bit, but after many years of Air Traffic with the FAA, and a hitch as a Controller in the military, I think I can speak on behalf of a lot of controllers. My first thought is it makes me angry, all the negative press for a group that takes a beating day in and day out, where 95% of the general public has no clue what we do.
Does the FAA really think 9 hours between shifts is the answer? What frustrates me more than I can tell you is the NTSB after the Lexington accident said the shift work is a serious issue. Is there a reason everybody has to rotate shifts? Our facility has enough people that love to work either days or nights so this would not be an issue (sleeping at work), but the FAA refuses to let us do this. Myself, I am a night owl. I have always struggled with the morning shifts, getting off at 9pm, only to be back in at 5am. Does an extra hour help, hell no. Let me work nights, and let the folks who are early risers cover the morning shifts. We literally have enough folks to do this, but can't.
Does the FAA really think 9 hours is the fix to a controller who has a family that needs mom or dad, husband or wife, to be that, get rest, eat, sleep, s___, shower and be on his or her game? Instead of people who have never put on a headset, strapped in to pry airplanes apart making this decision, how about talking to the "average Joe" and this is solved. I truly love what I do. I truly hate my schedule. I have logged more than 100 hours of overtime this year already, and the work schedule makes life outside of work a disaster.
I can't talk to the news folks as that would get me fired, but the more sensible voices out there that know what we do, the better. I know you can't, and would not ask you to take this cause up, but the more educated voices the better. Let us solve this, and everyone is better....everyone. The system is already the safest in the world, but a flaw has been exposed, and if politicians are left to make the choices, ignoring the obvious fixes, risk that should and could be eliminated, won't.
Thanks,

The frustration in that message is palpable. I don't pretend to know whether the suggestions of my correspondent have merit but I do know that current procedures aren't working and the extension of the break between controller shifts from eight hours to nine seems like an inadequate measure. Let us hope that the NTSB can provoke some fundamental rethinking around these issues.

2011 Annual Inspection (v)

2011-04-14T10:35:00.000-04:00

Mike the IA had found a problem with the elevator trim not functioning through its full travel. The trim tab is supposed to deflect 15º in the nose-up direction and it was only reaching 5º. Yesterday morning he told me he'd get into it to diagnose the cause. On investigation, he found that the trim actuator would only retract partially and as a result would not go all the way to the nose-up stop. He thought at first that it might be bent, a genuinely unpleasant prospect since the cost of a new actuator is about $2,000. So Mike pulled the actuator drive screw to confirm why it was bad and to see if there was anything to be done about it.

Not to keep you in suspense, Mike found that the shaft of the actuator was rusted (left) which kept the actuator from turning in the housing.

Mike was able to clean off the rust and reassembled everything. The trim control now functions as it's supposed to and I'm assured that it should be good for a lot more time. All this at the cost of 3 or 4 of Mike's hours. Compared to the alternative, that's a heck of a bargain!

In other news, it looks definite that we're going to install the Pointer 121.5 MHz ELT (discussed yesterday). The bracket modification is estimated to be a 2 to 3 hour job. Another bargain, compared with the alternative of installing a 406 MHz unit.

Unfortunately, as a result of the late start and the time consumed by the ELT issue and the trim actuator issue, it looks like N631S will not be ready for the weekend. I'd rather have things done right than done quick, of course, but it'll be one more weekend on the train.

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2011 Annual Inspection (iv)

2011-04-13T17:13:00.002-04:00

Mike the IA has finished inspecting N631S and there are a couple more non-trivial items to mention. For one, the right brake line managed to get itself badly chafed and will have to be replaced. The right main gear tire is significantly worn but we decided that it's still serviceable so it will be reinstalled and I'll watch it. The most interesting
item involves the Emergency Location Transmitter (ELT).

I've touched on ELT's in earlier posts on this blog, here and here and here. In brief, the world is slowly migrating to 406 MHz ELT's but for the time being the old 121.5 MHz units are compliant with regulations. Based on the kind of flying N631S and I do I've felt no urgency to make the change - at a cost of about $2,000. Now I've needed to revisit the subject.

At left are the mortal remains of N631S's dead 121.5 MHz ELT. The battery pack (that's the gray cardboard box) has failed and leaked corrosive material out into the housing of the ELT. The white powder in the ELT case is the product of corrosion, and you can see the hole in the plate at the bottom of the battery space that goes into the circuitry compartment. This ELT is, in a word, toast.

The first suggestion was that I ought to acquire a 406 MHz ELT as a replacement. They run about a grand and you can expect to spend another grand getting it installed. And, as I said, I am not highly motivated to make this change if I can avoid it. And I can.

I asked Jared, Three Wing's Avionics Manager, if he had any serviceable 121.5 MHz ELT's that had been removed from aircraft as a result of installing 406 MHz units. Yes, it turns out that he does.

Jared has a nice Pointer ELT Model 3000-11 unit (left) that he can let me have for a very reasonable price. Getting it installed will require a little bracket creativity but it will serve the need quite nicely without breaking the bank. Mike the IA is going to check around a bit to see if a used unit of the same make and mark as the old one can be found, as that would be a "drop in" replacement. But I'm not optimistic about that as the unit is a very old design. I believe it came with the airplane 34 years ago. So I'm guessing that I'll wind up with the Pointer unit in N631S.

And finally, in the ongoing quest to improve the performance of N631S's electrical charging system, we are going to replace the old voltage regulator (which seems not to be regulating so very well these days) with a new unit from Zeftronics.

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2011 Annual Inspection (iii)

2011-04-12T17:02:00.000-04:00

Something interesting has come up in the course of N631S's annual inspection. It emerged when Mike the IA turned to inspecting the main landing gear and really got down on the deck to look at the undersides of the gear leg fairings. When he looked at the left one here's what he found:

What you're seeing at left is a piece of the underside of the aluminum fairing missing. The open area is about 3" by 4". The white rod is the high-strength steel main gear leg and the stainless steel tube is the left brake actuation line. (And yes, that's the top of the photographers hat intruding into the frame from the left.) Amazingly, the fact that this chunk of airplane had gone adrift was totally invisible from above.

We're not going to return the airplane to service with the fairing in this condition. A new fairing will be ordered today. If we can get it in time, it can be installed in "green" condition (i.e., unpainted) to support getting N631S back on the flight line for a trip to the DC area on Friday. It's not a big deal to take the fairing off again for painting a week or two down the road.

The lesson learned here for me is that I need to get down on the ground periodically to closely examine the underside of N631S including all of its appendages. Perhaps that ritual needs to be added to my SOP for oil changes.

Other than the gear leg fairing, nothing of real significance has emerged. Four of the six upper spark plugs were beyond serviceable limits and the other two were marginal so we'll replace all six with the two passable plugs going into the toolbox for use if a plug fails on the road. These are massive-electrode plugs; the lower ones are fine-wire plugs and they're doing fine.

Finally, the portable O2 bottle has survived hydrostatic testing and can be recharged and put back in the airplane. In case you were wondering, testing an oxygen bottle costs $26.50.

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2011 Annual Inspection (ii)

2011-04-07T17:43:00.000-04:00

Mike the IA continues to examine N631S with an appropriately jaundiced eye. He's been concentrating his attention forward of the firewall and as of this morning nothing major has been found amiss. A couple of the shock mounts for the lower cowl are deteriorated and will need replacement and there are the normal assortment of cable chafes to be remedied.

I told Mike that I'd like to take the opportunity, while the airplane is "opened up" to treat the interior of the wings and the tail-cone with CorrosionX. This is a corrosion inhibition treatment that is sprayed into the interior of the structure as a finely divided aerosol. It coats the untreated aluminum interior and keeps corrosion from gaining a foothold.

N631S lived in the midwest, far from salt water, from 1977 until 2004. When I moved the airplane to the maritime environment of the East Coast in September of '04, I knew that it was important to take measures to prevent corrosion. I had CorrosionX applied at that time and repeated the treatment in the fall of 2006 and 2008. The 2010 treatment was deferred to the present to avoid the cost and inconvenience of opening up the airplane an additional time. Henceforth, CorrosionX will be applied at alternate annual inspections.

After getting out of Mike's way so he could get on with the job, I drove over to the Stuart L. White Co. in Milford, CT. They're primarily a fire protection equipment company but they have the capability to hydrostatically test N631S's portable oxygen cylinder. (It looks a lot like the one at left.)

Steel O2 cylinders are supposed to be tested every five years and this one is overdue. The folks at Stuart L. White will empty the cylinder, remove the valve, visually inspect it inside and out, fill it with water and pressurize it to 5,000 psig. Assuming that it lives, they'll then dry it out, replace the valve, and return it to me empty but duly marked as good-to-go 'til 2016. I'll then need to get the cylinder refilled at an industrial gas supplier.

I rarely make use of the oxygen bottle in the airplane but it's nice to know that it's available and it may as well be in compliance with the regs.

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2011 Annual Inspection (i)

2011-04-06T17:12:00.000-04:00

The folks at Three Wing Flying Services got started on N631S's annual inspection yesterday, a day late. Mike the IA did the engine runs, uncowled the airplane, dropped the old oil and checked the cylinder compressions as instructed by TCM Service Bulletin SB03-3.

One cylinder, #2, was not very tight. It tested at 48/80 psi on a day when the minimum acceptable value based on the standard orifice was 46/80. I've gone to the logs and dug out the compression values at each annual inspection since 2007 (charted below).

You can see that #2 has always been the "weak sister" among the cylinders. Since the result has to be considered in relation to the minimum acceptance value and that in turn varies with atmospheric conditions, I made another chart (below) that shows the difference between the test result for each cylinder and the applicable minimum value.

It's also clear that #4 experienced a considerable drop this year. But that's just one data point so we'll simply note the result and see what next year's annual brings.

Over the four years since the 2007 annual, N631S's engine has accumulated a bit over 500 hours. It's currently at about 1,340 hours since overhaul. That's really pretty good for a Continental engine, as they are noted for needing a "mid-life top overhaul".

Mike will inspect the cylinders using a borescope, and assuming he doesn't see anything unusual no action is needed. But I'll be watching for any evidence of further deterioration of the #2 cylinder. The engine still does not consume any significant amount of oil between changes so if oil consumption goes up the #2 cylinder will be the likely suspect.

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Meanwhile, From the Train...

2011-04-04T09:46:00.000-04:00

Well, it's Monday morning and I'm posting this from AMTRAK's Train 172 headed north just outside of Philadelphia. Last Friday's rainy weather coupled with a ferocious trough that brought arctic air and cold temperatures aloft meant that N631S had to spend the weekend in Connecticut.

Last week was generally cool in the northeast. One small benefit of this was to delay the peaking of the cherry blossoms in DC until I could get there. Yesterday the weather was still a bit cool and breezy but pleasant enough in the sunshine.

It's become a delightful annual ritual for us to go into the District during the peak period of the blossoms and join the throng for a walk around the Tidal Basin and past Mr. Jefferson's memorial; then a pleasant brunch at Olde Ebbitt Grill.

And as I ride the rails northward, the good folks at Three Wing Flying Services have presumably collected N631S from its tie-down and brought it into the maintenance hangar to commence this year's Annual Inspection. I will stop off after work this evening to collect all of the loose bits (flashlights and pubs and portable electronics and etc.) to get them out of the way. And over the next few days I'll be blogging about the progress of the inspection.

I'm hoping to get the airplane back by 4/14, thus having only one weekend lost to the maintenance period. Of course that depends on what turns up when we open up the airplane.

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A Modest Proposal

2011-03-30T21:17:00.000-04:00

The fuss over the...umm, unavailability of services from the KDCA tower one evening last week seems to continue unabated. Oh, what to do? At present we appear to be headed toward assigning two controllers on the midnight shift whose primary responsibility will be to keep each other awake while nothing else happens for hours.

A look at the data for KDCA for last night (courtesy of FlightAware.com) is presumably typical, and revelatory. From 11:30 PM to 6:30 AM local time, there were a grand total of four arrivals:

AWI3650 CRJ2 KCMH Wed 06:23 EDT
AAL1900 B738 KDFW Wed 01:00 EDT
AAL1012 B738 KMIA Wed 00:33 EDT
AWI3789 CRJ2 KPHL Wed 00:16 EDT
DAL1438 A320 KATL Wed 00:16 EDT
AAL532  B738 KORD Tue 23:41 EDT
UAL628  A320 KORD Tue 23:36 EDT

Of course, with the curfew in effect there were no departures during that period. We have two valuable FAA employees in the tower to manage four airplanes. This makes no sense at all.

The solution is simple. Close the tower from midnight to 06:00 AM local time! It's not like they're doing anything useful. The control tower's job is to ensure sequencing and separation on the runway when traffic levels rise to a point where alternate means of separation are not acceptable. When the airport is busy, local control from the tower is essential. When the airport is deathly quiet, the tower is absolutely unnecessary.

I "grew up" in aviation flying into and out of Sikorsky Memorial Airport (KBDR) in Stratford, CT. KBDR is a towered airport and the tower is closed from 0300Z until 1130Z the next morning. Arriving aircraft are handled by New York Approach, and released to the Common Traffic Advisory Frequency (CTAF) where they announce their positions and intentions. It all works; nothing unusual about it.

Sarah and her friends at Potomac Consolidated TRACON (PCT, aka "Potomac Approach") are entirely capable of keeping KDCA out of trouble in the wee hours of the morning. PCT will clear one airplane at a time into the airport, and put any succeeding aircraft into a hold until the landing aircraft cancels IFR or reports itself on the ground. No problem!

From the pilot's perspective, operating into a non-towered airport in a low traffic environment is straightforward. In fact, as long as the situation is normal and expected, it may be safer than a towered field with a single sleepy controller.

To sum up:

The tower's only function is to provide separation on the runway.
In periods of very low traffic, TRACON is equipped to discharge that responsibility.
The pilots just won't care.
Ergo, closing the KDCA tower from 2400 to 0600 local time is perfectly reasonable.

"But, wait!" (someone cries), "What about SECURITY!!"

Oh, come on. Think about it. The control tower has no meaningful role to play in the security aspects of the DC airspace. By the time an aircraft is told to "contact tower", there is no security issue. The integrity of the SFRA, the FRZ and the several Prohibited areas are in the hands of Potomac Approach. And they deal with that nonsense as well as any organization could.

So, Scott, how about it? Would a recommendation to close the KDCA tower in the wee hours fly?

A Belated Happy Birthday

2011-03-27T15:10:00.000-04:00

In the previous post, I ought to have noted that the flight I was describing occurred on an auspicious anniversary. Exactly 34 years earlier, on 18 March 1977, Cessna production test pilot Jim Ballard took off from Wichita's Mid-Continent Airport for a 1.3 hour flight in a brand new 182. It was N631S's maiden flight.

For an airplane of a certain age, I think 31 Sierra is holding up rather well!

The weather forecast for tomorrow morning looks good for a flight from KVKX up to KBDR in Connecticut, departing about 12Z. The Terminal Area Forecasts look like this:

 
KDCA 271723Z 2718/2818 35008KT P6SM FEW050 BKN080 
     FM272100 32007KT P6SM SCT060 
     FM280000 VRB04KT P6SM SCT060 SCT250 
     FM280600 35008KT P6SM SCT150 BKN250 
     FM281600 32008G15KT P6SM SCT150
        
KBDR 271722Z 2718/2818 30012G18KT P6SM FEW250 
     FM272300 31009KT P6SM FEW250 
     FM281200 32012G18KT P6SM FEW250 
     FM281700 32014G22KT P6SM FEW250

The high clouds will make low temperatures aloft irrelevant and the gusty breezes at KBDR won't be too far off the centerline of Runway 29. FltPlan.com is telling me to expect 1 hour + 54 minutes en route.

...and from the "nobody-asked-me-but..." department: You have to wonder what it is that the non-flying public thinks control towers are for! After last week's admittedly unfortunate "sleepy controller" incident at KDCA, many of the press reports seemed amazed that two commercial flights were able somehow to land without "help" from the tower. And today's Detroit News published an article under this breathless headline: Some Michigan airports leave towers unmanned overnight. Amazing!

Are We Having Fun Yet?

2011-03-20T16:05:00.000-04:00

Friday's flight from KBDR to KVKX was not a great example of the joy of aviation. For the first couple of hours of the 2.8 hour trip N631S and I got to experience strong headwinds and fairly continuous light turbulence. Nothing nasty, just tedious and uncomfortable.

The wind field forecast by XM Weather on the Garmin GPSmap 396 for 9,000 feet (left) showed about 50 knots pretty much right on the nose. At our assigned altitude of 8,000 feet it was a bit better, but I was still getting a ground speed about 45 knots less than N631S's true airspeed.

A few minutes after snapping that screenshot this conversation occurred on New York Approach's frequency:

FlightStar 36: Approach, FlightStar 36 would like to descend to 6,000 to get out of this scattered layer. It's pretty bumpy in here.
Approach: FlightStar 36, descend and maintain 6,000.
FlightStar 36: FlightStar 36, down to 6,000. Thanks.
N631S: Approach, Skylane 631 Sierra.
Approach: 631 Sierra, go ahead.
N631S: Any chance of 31 Sierra getting 6,000 too?
Approach: Noooo. Not 'til you get down near Solberg. Will that be what you're looking for?
N631S: Actually, 31 Sierra would like direct LANNA and a descent to 6,000 as soon as those will work for you.
Approach: Well, you can go direct LANNA from there. Join Victor 30 and I'll get lower for you when I can.
N631S: 31 Sierra direct LANNA. Thank you sir.

The early turn to the south toward LANNA intersection pointed me toward lower wind speeds, and after only about 10 miles Approach gave me a descent to 7,000 feet and a few miles later to 6,000 feet. At that altitude the ride was a bit better and I picked up 8 or 10 knots ground speed.

Later as we approached Potomac Airfield from the east shortly before sunset, the combination of sun glare and haze made visibility a real challenge. The final controller had descended me to 2,000 feet and turned me toward the airport, asking that I report the field in sight. I did so, and received clearance for the visual approach to KVKX with the usual option to cancel IFR in the air then, or to wait until I was on the ground.

Now, I just about always cancel in the air. But this time I didn't - not right away. If any of my friends from the Mt. Vernon Sector of PCT are reading this, I'd like to offer a few words of explanation.

When I reported the field in sight, I wasn't fibbing. I could see prominent features that I know are associated with the airport. But with the challenging visibility I didn't feel certain that I'd be able to keep the field in sight. Landing was not, as they say, assured so I chose to stay in the system.

But as I descended below the floor of the Class Bravo airspace, to about 1,400 feet, I passed below the base of the haze layer. In seconds, visibility about doubled. I went back over to Approach frequency and cancelled IFR.

And that's the answer, if you were thinking, "What the %#!! is he doing?"

When I left Connecticut on Friday I thought the weather forecast for Monday looked quite promising for a return flight. As of now (Sunday afternoon) it isn't so hot. A fast moving low pressure system will be sweeping across the northeast early on the first full day of spring, bringing clouds, light rain and low freezing levels. So I'll be with AmTrak tomorrow morning and will be happy when we finally get back to consistently warm weather aloft.

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Henry 3/15/1995 - 3/16/2011

2011-03-17T17:19:00.000-04:00

Henry, a bichon frisé of unusual coloration, went West last evening. He was 16 years old. At the end, he left us peacefully, held in the arms of someone he loved and trusted.

Henry owed his non-standard fur color to a quirk of genetics but he had a full measure of the haughty attitude common to his breed. In his prime, he considered it to be his job to provide security services and intruder alerts for the Van Haste household and he pursued these tasks with zeal.

He had a long life by the standards of his species and it was full of canine satisfactions. His last years were of good quality and his final illness lasted just a few days. Henry is survived by his "pack", Rich, Pat and Frank, who are left now with a treasury of memories and a feeling of something missing from our lives that will persist for some time.

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The Warming of the Sky

2011-03-16T20:10:00.003-04:00

'Tis the season. We who fly in the Northeast look forward each year to the time, in the progression of the seasons, when the normal IFR altitudes - from 5,000 feet MSL to 9,000 feet MSL - are, on a more than occasional basis, above freezing.

The clip at left is the NAM forecast for 00Z20110319 (a.k.a. 8 PM Friday the 18th). The cold front is draped across southern Connecticut and, I expect, showers and clouds can be expected. A month ago, contemplating a Friday afternoon departure from KBDR, I'd have already been making AMTRAK reservations.

But here, at left, is the evidence of the changing season. Dare we hope, the advent of Spring? It shows the locations of the isotherms at about 9,000 feet MSL at 00Z - the same time as the clip above.

As I'll be departing a few hours before the depicted time, I conclude that I'll be able to get up to 8,000 feet (in the shmoo or not, I don't care), where ATC wants me for the routing west from KBDR to Sparta thence Allentown thence Lancaster and ultimately home. I anticipate a nice IFR departure from Connecticut and then progressively improving conditions as I make my way to the south toward the DC area. And, if I can get wheels up early enough, perhaps a landing at KVKX before the fall night.

The coming of Spring is an aviator's delight!

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Book Review: "Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War" by Robert Coram

2011-03-11T08:44:00.000-05:00

John R. Boyd was a genius. He was also profane, obnoxious, arrogant, uncouth, insensitive and monomaniacal. He repeatedly developed revolutionary insights that were transformative in their fields. He also put his wife and children through sheer hell.

He wore the uniform of the United States Air Force for twenty-four years and became, in some ways, the Air Force's worst nightmare. But he is most honored - almost venerated - by the United States Marine Corps. It is difficult to understand Boyd's work in all of its complexity and interdependency, and it is virtually impossible to understand the man. But in Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War, Robert Coram makes a worthy effort and the result is a book that is essential for anyone seeking to understand the modern US military.

"Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who
Changed the Art of War"
by Robert Coram; 470pp.
Little, Brown & Co., 2002

John Boyd was born in 1927 and grew up in Erie, PA, in a single parent home. His father died when John was very young, leaving his mother with very limited resources to care for five children including one with major health issues.

After high school he enlisted in the Army, and then attended the University of Iowa where he majored in economics and participated in the ROTC program. Upon graduation he entered the Air Force and was trained as a pilot. He went to Korea where he flew the F-86 Sabre for a few combat missions but he never had the chance there to engage the enemy in air-to-air combat.

But all agreed that John Boyd excelled as a fighter pilot. In the 1950's, USAF fighter squadrons sent their best pilots to the Fighter Weapons School (FWS) at Nellis AFB in Nevada. John Boyd went to FWS and found himself in his element.

After honing the skills of the best pilots, FWS would retain the best of the best as instructor pilots. John Boyd stayed at Nellis to instruct and soon the legend of "Forty-Second Boyd" was born. The legend began, as the author tells it, because many of the students arriving at Nellis were already quite impressed with themselves. It is an occasional pedagogic necessity to demonstrate to a student that he really isn't as good as he thinks he is. Boyd did it with flair.

The North American F-100 Super Sabre was an unforgiving airplane. John Boyd loved it. He loved pushing it into corners of its performance envelope that no sensible pilot sought out. He could make the "Hun" dance. He would bet any pilot $20 that he could let him set up at his six o'clock position within gun range, and that within 40 seconds of "Fight's on!", he'd have their positions reversed.

He never lost the bet.

While he was instructing at FWS and "pushing the envelope" in the F-100, Boyd was continually refining his understanding of aerial combat. He used his experiences in simulated air combat with the students to refine his theories and used his theoretical concepts to bring his techniques to the highest levels. When it was time for him to move on, he knew he'd have to write a manual on air-to-air tactics.

The author describes how Boyd, working on his own time, created his manual and then forced it, at considerable risk to his career, on an establishment that wanted only to shelve it. His Aerial Attack Study became a fighter pilot's bible. After its initial grudging acceptance of his work, the USAF finally realized its value and awarded him the Legion of Merit in recognition of the "first instance in the history of fighter aviation in which tactics have been reduced to an objective state." His commendation said that he was "undisputed master in the area of aerial combat."

The Aerial Attack Study was the sort of achievement that crowns a career. John Boyd was just getting started.

Boyd desperately wanted to make rigorous analyses of the combat capabilities of fighter aircraft. And he wanted those analyses to be mathematically bullet-proof and credible. To those ends, he needed further education in engineering so he manipulated the Air Force system to get it. He went to Georgia Tech for a second bachelor's degree, this time in Industrial Engineering. The author follows Boyd through this process, observing that he kept a focus on aircraft performance throughout his engineering course work. He was looking for a breakthrough in understanding and he found it in thermodynamics class.

Thermo came hard to Boyd...it's hard for most people. But when insight came on the interplay of energy and entropy in closed systems, it brought with it the tools he needed for his second major achievement. He called it "Energy-Maneuverability Theory."

Fighter pilots have always known that the "high ground" in aerial combat lay in having speed and/or altitude advantages over your opponent. John Boyd reduced that instinctive knowledge to rigorous mathematical formulae, derivable for any aircraft in any energy state, and most critically, to an ability to chart the comparative capabilities of any pair of aircraft. He gave pilots the tools needed to understand what parts of their airplane's performance envelope were advantageous against a likely adversary, and what portions were disadvantageous...or even suicidal.

Below, as an example, is an E-M diagram for a Mig-21. It is a simple matter to overlay upon it a comparable diagram for an F-4E Phantom II. From this, the F-4 driver can understand how to best engage an enemy flying the Mig-21. With this work, John Boyd saved lives.

Boyd took his early E-M work back to Eglin AFB and proceeded to plot the performance envelopes of every fighter aircraft in the USAF inventory, as well as those of adversary aircraft. He did this "off the side of his desk," as it was not an authorized project. It required immense amounts of computer time. John Boyd stole the data processing hours.

Author Robert Coram describes well, how word of Boyd's E-M work trickled through USAF networks until the General who ran Tactical Air Command (TAC) heard of it and asked to be "briefed." As it happens, the Briefing is an art form in the military and John Boyd was a master of the art. The TAC commander's staff gave him 20 minutes...and the briefing wound up consuming nearly two days. The TAC boss, Gen. Walt Sweeney, was convinced, and that led to then-Maj. John Boyd's ideas being heard throughout the Air Force.

These events occurred in the mid-1960's, as the Air Force's activities in Southeast Asia were heating up. F-4's and F-105's were encountering Mig-19's and Mig-21's and the outcomes were not gratifying. Boyd was summoned to the Pentagon where he used his E-M diagrams to show that those big, fast, unwieldy airplanes were dog meat in a turning fight with the more agile Mig's. It would be only a matter of time before John R. Boyd would be at the Pentagon, working the problem. It remained unclear whether the Air Force could deal with that.

The author chronicles an eventful decade, from the mid-1960's to 1975 when Boyd was instrumental in transforming the nature of the Air Force. With remarkable bureaucratic in-fighting skill backed up by technical credibility (derived from E-M analyses) he transformed the F-X program. That design, which began as a bloated, unwieldy multi-role F-111 successor, became the F-15 Eagle, the world's best air superiority fighter for three decades. Then, disillusioned by the "gold plating" of the F-15 design, he energized a "Lightweight Fighter" program that began as a bootleg design "study" and ultimately produced the F-16 Fighting Falcon. Along the way, his office produced the data that terminated the B-1A bomber program and provided critical support to the A-10 close support aircraft - another successful airplane the Air Force did not want.

Of course, John Boyd did not work alone. He had the ability to attract and inspire other crusaders. Boyd, it would seem, did not have friends. He had apostles; followers who referred to themselves as "the Acolytes". To enter Boyd's inner circle was a nearly spiritual act, a conversion. Men such as Pierre Sprey, Chuck Spinney and Col. Mike Wyly were powers in their own rights, but they orbited about John Boyd.

At the mid-point of this turbulent decade, Boyd left the Pentagon for a one year combat assignment. The war in Southeast Asia was still hot and he was assigned to Nakhon Phanom Royal Thai AFB (also known as NKP or occasionally, "Naked Fanny"). NKP was on the "dark" side of the war, home to special ops units, Combat Search and Rescue squadrons, Forward Air Controllers and classified Intelligence and Electronic Warfare groups.

Boyd came to NKP as Vice Commander of the project responsible for "bugging" the Ho Chi Minh trail. Later, he became NKP's Base Commander (the "landlord" for all resident units). Coram tells how he excelled in each role, garnering superb evaluations from his superiors.

While at NKP, Col. Boyd never missed an opportunity to travel to bases where the F-4 Phantom drivers worked, to brief them on the E-M data for their aircraft as compared to their likely adversaries, especially the Mig-21. A number of F-4 pilots owed their lives to these briefings.

John Boyd had a great deal of time to think while he was at NKP a half-world away from the Pentagon (and his family). Much of his thinking focused on ideation, creativity and theories of problem-solving. He formulated ideas that would provide the intellectual basis for the final act of his professional life. He began to see that destruction was a pre-requisite for creation.

Boyd returned to the Pentagon after his tour at NKP ended. He evaluated the B-1A program (fatally), and monitored the Lightweight Fighter program's prototype competitive fly-off that pitted the General Dynamics YF-16 against the Northrop YF-17. All of Boyd's E-M data and analysis seemed to indicate a close win for the YF-16.

He was right...the YF-16 won. But he was wrong...it wasn't close. Nowhere near it. The fighter pilots who flew both airplanes loved the YF-16 and considered it vastly superior to the YF-17. E-M theory did not account for this. The difference, it emerged, lay in the YF-16's agility, its quickness. It could transition from one maneuver to the next much faster than any other airplane. Boyd called these transitions "fast transients." He filed this away with his thinking on Creation and Destruction, for future use.

On 25 June 1975 the Secretary of the Air Force presented the service's most prestigious scientific award, the Harold Brown Award, to Col. John R. Boyd, acknowledging the role of E-M theory in the design of both the F-15 and the F-16. E-M gave the Air Force the means to "forge a superior fighter force in the decades ahead."

On 31 August 1975, after 24 years of service, Col. John R. Boyd retired. It was time for the third phase.

Almost a year to the day after his retirement, Boyd released
Destruction and Creation. An extraordinarily dense eight-or-so pages, it weaves concepts from Gödel and Heisenberg with the Second Law of Thermodynamics to offer a theoretical underpinning for the analysis/synthesis sequence of creativity. The paper is the only formal written document John Boyd ever created aside from Air Force technical publications. It is the starting point for all of his subsequent work.

With the issuance of "Creation and Destruction," Boyd set about understanding the "fast transients" phenomenon in its context. He went back to his beginnings, to the F-86 Sabre in Korea. It was easy to argue that the Mig-15 was the better airplane. E-M analysis suggested that they were closely matched. So why did the Sabre rack up a 14:1 kill ratio? Were our pilots really that much better? Boyd focused on the fact that the F-86 had hydraulically actuated flight controls while the Mig relied on cables and bell cranks. As a result, the Sabre could be flown with a much higher maneuvering tempo. It was agile, it was quick, and it was deadly. The Sabre pilot was quickly one or two steps ahead of the Mig pilot. He was operating inside the Mig pilot's time scale. (Sadly, 15 years later in the case of the F-4 and F-105 vs. the Mig-21, the situation was reversed.)

Boyd looked for other historic examples where operational tempo was decisive. He found Heinz Guderian's blitzkrieg attacks in 1940 and the Israeli commandos' raid at Entebbe to be instructive. He absorbed and built on Sun Tzu's Art of War and he read and found fault with Clausewitz.

He distilled all of this into a masterful briefing he called Patterns of Conflict.

The briefing, Boyd's Meisterstück, introduces us to the concept of the OODA Loop. This is John Boyd's best known legacy and it is, unfortunately, often mis-interpreted. OODA is an acronym for "Observe - Orient - Decide - Act." Every operator must cycle through an OODA loop, and the victor will be the one who can function inside the time-scale of his opponent's OODA loop. Many conclude that you have to be faster than your opponent. That is simplistic. In fact, Boyd teaches that you must be more "intellectually agile" than your adversary. (N.B.: The present writer's recent reading of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's Personal Memoirs gave the distinct impression that Grant "got it", a century before John Boyd codified it.)

Boyd had expanded his world-view to include ground warfare. This did not particularly interest the Air Force, as every academic study of the theories of warfare concluded that air power was subordinate to and properly in the service of ground forces. Boyd was in need of a new audience. He got one.

In 1980, Lt. Col. Mike Wyly invited Col. John Boyd to brief his class at the USMC's Amphibious Warfare School in Quantico, VA. And the rest, as they say, is history. Author Coram describes how Boyd's theories of warfare propagated from this starting point, enveloping the Marine Corps and penetrating the Army. A decade later when Gulf War I was fought, John Boyd's ideas were dominant. Describing how the coalition forces had completely befuddled the Iraqi army, Marine BGen. Richard Neal said "We kind of got inside his decision cycle."

John Boyd had won his war.

Col. John R. Boyd, USAF (Ret'd) succumbed to cancer and was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. At his memorial service on 20 March 1997 the Air force was under-represented. The Marines were present in force. A Marine Colonel placed the Eagle, Globe and Anchor next to the urn containing John Boyd's ashes. That, a remarkable act in the context of Corps tradition, says it all.

How do you sum up John Boyd? Author Robert Coram quotes his advice to a junior officer - one of the very, very few quotable passages that he ever produced - as follows:

"Tiger, one day you will come to a fork in the road. And you're going to have to make a decision about which direction you want to go. If you go that way you can be somebody. You will have to make compromises and you will have to turn your back on your friends. But you will be a member of the club and you will get promoted and you will get good assignments. Or you can go that way and you can do something - something for your country and for your Air Force and for yourself. If you decide you want to do something, you may not get promoted and you may not get the good assignments and you certainly will not be a favorite of your superiors. But you won't have to compromise yourself. You will be true to your friends and to yourself. And your work might make a difference.
To be somebody or to do something. In life there is often a roll call. That's when you will have to make a decision. To be or to do. Which way will you go?"

Col. John R. Boyd chose to do something and we are eternally in his debt.

Here is a video recording of John Boyd doing Q&A at the end of a brief. The video is of poor quality but the audio is good. The aggregate length of the four videos is 32:23.

Under the Weather

2011-02-17T18:03:00.000-05:00

Both of us; me and N631S, actually. For me it's been a couple of days of "flu-like symptoms" (much better now, thanks for asking). For the airplane, it's been a bit of an electrical problem.

Last Friday the nice folks at Three Wing Flying Services at KBDR hooked up the pre-heater in a timely manner and when I got to the airplane everything was warm and set to start. On reflection, perhaps the rate at which the starter turned the prop was a bit anemic but the TCM O-470U engine always wants to run so we were soon on our way toward home in the DC area.

The flight was long (2.8 hours) but uneventful. The very strong headwinds from the west-southwest caused a ground-speed penalty but no other problems. ATC did its usual sterling job and the landing at KVKX was routine. I taxied to the gas pumps and shut down.

After topping off the tanks, I hopped back in to taxi around to the hangar and was quite surprised when the engine would not start. After two attempts during which the starter couldn't get the engine over top dead-center I checked the voltmeter. It said 9.7. That isn't enough. Fortunately there was another pilot on the field (often on Friday evening I'm the only one there) and he helped me to pull N631S clear of the gas pumps and back onto the adjacent grass.

Sunday morning I returned to KVKX and in about 15 minutes found someone with a jumper cable having the appropriate Cessna-style connector; he was also happy to help me get the airplane started. After fully briefing what we were about to do (propellers are DANGEROUS!), we hooked up the airplane via the external power connector to the car and got the engine started. My friend disconnected the cable and I taxied to the hangar and shut down. First problem solved.

Then I drove the short distance to Hyde Field (W32), to see if Dan Fragassi of Clinton Aero Maintenance was in his shop - he seems to nearly always be there. (Regular visitors here may recall having been introduced (in this post) to Dan back in July of last year when he fixed a brake problem on N631S. I recommend him highly.)

He was there, I described for him the symptoms, and he said he'd get over to KVKX by Tuesday to have a look. So I went home and came down with the flu.

Tuesday Dan called to tell me that it appeared to be time for a new alternator. He had tightened the alternator belt, bypassed the voltage regulator and still got just 13 volts from unit - not the 14.3 to 14.5 that would be normal. The output was sufficient to operate the equipment but not enough to push electrons back into the battery, especially given the losses due to the rather long cable run from the engine compartment back to the battery box aft of the luggage compartment.

I told Dan to go ahead and get N631S a rebuilt alternator (he says about $315.00 plus labor). He expects to have it installed by Saturday, so if weather allows, a Monday morning flight to Connecticut can be in the cards.

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Book Review: "In My Sights: The Memoir of a P-40 Ace" by James B. Morehead

2011-02-10T18:36:00.002-05:00

A while ago I read the memoir of another WWII aviator, a man widely regarded as one of the great heroic pilots of that war. He is indisputably a superb pilot, a ferocious warrior and a hero. I'm glad to have read his story, but I came away from his book unsettled.

My problem with that book was that the prose is too good. Too polished, too artful, too cool. The stories are true without any doubt but the voice in which they're told seems too much that of the skilled co-author (who the cover says the book was written "with") and not enough the voice of the man who put his life on the line in those war-torn skies.

Out of immense respect, I refrained from writing a review that would have been less than positive. I have no such problem with Col. Jim Morehead's "In My Sights."

"In My Sights" by
James B. Morehead
Presidio Press, 1998

The author grew up the hard way on a depression-era Oklahoma farm and escaped to the Army Air Corps' Air Cadet program. He was commissioned in 1940 and assigned to fly fighters - specifically the Curtiss P-40 Warhawk. Because he was recovering from injuries sustained in an accident, he missed his unit's transfer to the Philippines - and hence probable capture and likely death. Instead, he wound up flying his P-40 with the 17th Pursuit Squadron (Provisional) on Java in the Dutch East Indies.

In the darkest days of the Pacific war, early 1942, the ragtag 17th fought with unbelievable bravery to slow the Japanese juggernaut. They bought time needed to organize the defense of Australia, and for many of Jim's buddies the price was their lives.

"Whereas youth is normally optimistic about fate, forever feeling that if bad things happen, they will never happen to me, now there was a reversal. Unlike any combat circumstance I was ever exposed to, it switched. The attitude changed to: "I am a goner, the next one lost will be me, I know it will be me." Many times I heard "We're just flying tow targets. We are all on suicide missions!" Such conclusions were only logical. Anyone's arithmetic can figure out how many missions you are likely to last if ten go out and only five come back. Where an alert shack normally is boisterous with laughter and wisecracks, silent anxiety was the mood in those days."

But while Jim Morehead did not love or trust the P-40's that took him in harm's way, he did have a sense the airplane's merits:

"Bad as the P-40 ... and the P-39 were, through God's deliverence they were planes a greenhorn could survive in if he was extremely alert and made the proper moves in time."

Through luck and native talent and a desperate understanding of how to exploit the obsolescent Curtiss fighter's few virtues, Jim Morehead survived long enough to build skill and experience.

The war in the Pacific was crueler than the war in Europe, with quarter neither asked nor given. It does not require too close a reading to discern that Jim Morehead's hatred for the Japanese enemy burned with a white-hot fury, and that more than a half-century later the embers of that fury still emit an angry glow:

"I had seen the movie The Rape of China just before Pearl Harbor. I had seen, read of, and heard of the details of Pearl Harbor. We heard the firsthand accounts of the murderous Japanese forces from our personal friends who had been exposed to them.
I was eager to employ my own skills against the brutal forces who conducted themselves like animals."

The young P-40 pilots did their best to survive and learn. Their efforts were not enough to keep the Japanese from taking Java, and the survivors retreated to Australia. But that was their last retreat. The "end of the beginning" may have come on 25 April 1942 when the author, leading a flight of four veteran P-40 pilots, participated in a pivotal air action against a force of Japanese fighters and bombers. His description of the battle is gripping and his summary of the result is satisfying:

"It seems we shot down eight bombers and three fighters. ... This seems to have been the first smashing victory over the Japanese air forces and the Zero, and over the Japanese armed forces. It demonstrated that the awe was not so awesome - that they could be defeated even by a bunch of gringo greenhorns.
For my action I received a Distinguished Service Cross, the second such medal awarded (to me)."

This action, widely reported in the press back home, was soon followed by the Battle of the Coral Sea and the Battle of Midway. The Japanese Empire had reached its high-water mark. Its focus shifted away from Australia to the Solomon Islands and after Guadalcanal, the long bloody retrenchment began.

After a time spent training newly arrived pilots to survive in combat in the Pacific, Jim Morehead was sent back home for a well-earned respite:

"I was placed on thirty days leave after returning from the Southwest Pacific theater. I returned home the local hero as a result of earning two Distinguished Service Crosses, the Silver Star, two Distinguished Flying Crosses, the personal commendation of General Marshall, and the attention of the national networks and newspapers. What was more interesting was that I seemed to be a hero among the female population."

After his leave was up, Morehead (now a Major) became a squadron commander in a state-side replacement training group. And he met a new love - the Lockheed P-38 Lightning. A skeptical as he was of the Curtiss P-40, he was equally enthusiastic about the big Lockheed twin.

"Other pilots who flew P-51's felt the P-51 was superior. ... I have several hundred hours in a P-51, and I would choose to fly a P-38 in a dogfight between the two, any day."

After a year on the home front, he went to Europe to command a P-38 squadron in Foggia, Italy. Later, he became Group Operations Officer. He and his compatriots flew in intensive combat against the Luftwaffe and he recounts many stories of valor and of tragedy. The part of the book covering the author's time in the European Theater is a tale well told, yet may feel anti-climactic when compared with the time in Java.

After the war, the author made the transition to jet fighters. He tells of flying P-80's and F-86's and of combat missions in Korea in F-84's.

Col. Jim Moreland retired from the U.S. Air Force in the 1960's and embarked on a successful career in real estate development. Today, at 94 years of age, he resides in Petaluma, CA. The city recently proclaimed February 2nd, 2011 as "Col. James B. Morehead Day."

It's Always Something

2011-02-07T16:28:00.003-05:00

The weather was promising for a flight this morning from Potomac Airfield (KVKX) back to Bridgeport (KBDR). Cold, but promising. So, having filed my IFR flight plan last evening, I got up fairly early and headed over to the airport.

When I arrived (about 0645 local time) the air temperature was 29F. The field was quiet; I had the place to myself. I drove around the hangar row to N631S's home and dug out the keys. Then I discovered that the key wouldn't go into the lock. The lock, it seemed, was frozen.

The hangar door is secured with a long-hasp Master padlock and during the damp weekend some moisture had gotten into the body of the lock. An awkward situation! I needed a way to apply heat to the lock. (As I'm a non-smoker, I didn't have either matches or a lighter. Where's Dad's Zippo when you need it?)

I walked down to the FBO office to seek inspiration and wandered over to the storage closet where the cleaning supplies are kept. Hmm...vacuum cleaner. Flexible hose. Hose can convey heat but where to get heat? Aha! Car exhaust! So I carried the vacuum cleaner hose back to the hangar, put one end over the outlet of the car's exhaust pipe and started the engine. A few minutes of holding the open end of the hose directly under the frozen lock did the deed. A bit of water dripped out and the key slid into place and turned. N631S was free!

The subsequent flight was uneventful and quick, with a tailwind of about 15 knots. I followed the old rule, "Fly fast in a headwind, slow in a tailwind." At 7,000 feet the wide-open throttle gave me 21 inches of manifold pressure and I pulled the RPM down to 2,150 and leaned the fuel flow to 9.6 GPH. I had about 145 knots ground speed yielding more than 15 nautical miles per gallon (17.3 statute MPG).

At left, a Cathay Boeing 777, just off KJFK Runway 31L and crossing ahead of me and 1,000 feet below. Traffic of that size is easy to spot!

A Break in the Weather

2011-02-05T20:26:00.003-05:00

January was thoroughly unpleasant, and unproductive from an aviation viewpoint. N631S and I flew from the DC area to Connecticut on 3 January and then the airplane stayed parked for four weeks. One of the consequences of this hiatus was that my IFR currency lapsed. I no longer could claim the required six instrument approaches in the preceding six months. But with the weather looking good for this Friday (4 February) I needed to remedy the situation.

As mentioned in this post, the friendly folks at Volo Aviation had pulled N631S in out of the storm for the most recent weather event. I asked Andrew Post, a great young CFII at Three Wing Flying Services, to meet me there for an evening flight for which I had three objectives. First and foremost, to get me current so I could fly IFR legally the next day. Next, to shake off some of the cobwebs that would have accumulated on my flying during a four week layoff. And finally, to assure myself that N631S had come through the down period none the worse for wear.

With the cooperation of New York Approach we flew the RNAV 36 at Oxford (KOXC) and the RNAV 29 back at KBDR to a full stop. Mission accomplished in 0.8 hour. I was a little ragged on the first approach but the second was better. N631S performed superbly. Andrew was a delight to fly with and I expect I'll do so again. On landing we taxied to the Three Wing ramp and the line staff plugged in the Tanis heater to keep N631S warm overnight.

There was dominating high-pressure, and clear skies over most of the northeast yesterday so I anticipated an easy flight but a long one. The winds opposing the westbound parts of the flight would be impressive. FltPlan.com was telling me to expect 2:42 en route. That proved to be almost exactly correct.

The graphic below, from the FlightAware.com site, traces speed and altitude for the flight. You can see that during climb (at the left of the figure) speed over the ground drops to about 40 knots. N631S and I were climbing at an indicated airspeed of 90 knots. For much of the flight the ground speed hovered around 100 knots while true airspeed was about 140 knots.

But the flight, while long, was enjoyable. Flight visibility was excellent. At one point, soon after crossing the Hudson, I looked off to the south and could see the runways at Teterboro (KTEB) and Newark (KEWR) clearly. I asked the Garmin GNS-530 how far away KEWR was and it said 27.5 nautical miles. Soon (around 2130Z) a very nice sunset presented itself over Pennsylvania. (The bright spot on the ground in the picture above left is a ski area southwest of Allentown.) Darkness flowed over the landscape and the lights on the ground provided cheery company.

N631S and I were handed off by New York to Allentown and then to Harrisburg Approach and finally to Potomac Consolidated TRACON (PCT). Usually Harrisburg asks me to descend to 6,000 feet but in this case I was still at 8,000. The first Potomac controller issued the expected route change ("After Baltimore, direct Nottingham, thence direct to destination") and soon after, the expected altitude change. But with a twist:

PCT: "Skylane 31 Sierra, descend and maintain 6,000."
Me: "31 Sierra, down to six."
PCT: "Let's make it pilot's discretion descend to 6,000."
Me: "OK, PD down to 6...I believe I'll stay at 8 for a while."

This was a bit different. The controller had told me that he'd like me to descend to 6,000 feet but was leaving the timing of that descent up to me. I knew that they wanted me at 6,000 feet over Baltimore but the situation was ambiguous. When in doubt, request clarification:

Me: "Approach, Skylane 31 Sierra, when do you need me at 6?"
PCT: "31 Sierra, tell you what, cross 10 miles northwest of Baltimore at 6,000."
Me: "OK, 31 Sierra will cross 10 northwest of Baltimore at 6."

Woo-hoo! A crossing restriction! That was the first one of those I'd gotten in the 900 odd hours flown since getting my Instrument Rating. Just like the Big Guys!

Of course, if that restriction was issued to Cap'n Dave and Fi-Fi (the Electric Jet), he'd just punch a few buttons on his FMS and the computers would handle everything. I, however, needed to figure out when to start down to ensure I'd be at the specified altitude crossing the specified fix.

The GNS-530 has a vertical navigation (VNAV) function, but I don't normally use it and wasn't sure that it could deal with a descent over distance that involves a change in ground-speed. And this wasn't the time to pull out the manual.

My customary procedure for en route descents is to pitch the airplane down and accelerate to the top of the green arc (for the Skylane, 142 knots indicated airspeed (KIAS)). Soon thereafter, the descent rate settles down to about 500 feet per minute. I needed to lose 2,000 feet of altitude so that would take four minutes. The question was, how many miles would I cover in those four minutes?

The top of the green arc was about 15 knots faster than my current indicated airspeed, and the GNS-530 said that my ground-speed was 128 knots. So in the descent, my ground-speed ought to rise to about 143 knots. That's about 2-1/3 nautical miles per minute. Four minutes would eat up a bit over nine miles. A glance at the GPS display told me I was 35 miles from Baltimore. So, I could motor on at 8,000 until I was 20 miles out, then initiate the descent and level off at 6,000 feet just prior to the 10 mile mark.

Well I wasn't about to cut it that close. I waited until I was 25 miles out and called approach:

Me: "Approach, Skylane 631 Sierra out of 8 for 6."
PCT: "31 Sierra, roger."

The descent scenario played out exactly as expected. N631S and I leveled off at 6,000 feet just about 16 miles from BAL. Simple but satisfying.

To provide a nice ending for the evening, my friend Sarah was my final controller as I approached KVKX. I introduced you to Sarah in the post describing my recent visit to PCT. We exchanged pleasantries (without cluttering up the frequency) and I do not think I embarrassed myself. And, by the way, the lady gives good vectors!

The landing was uneventful, and occurred well before the arrival of today's rain event (returns from which are visible to the south in the FlightAware.com image above). As I type this N631S is snug in the hangar at Potomac Airfield. The break in the winter weather has been most welcome; it was really good to get into the air again.

A Nice Surprise

2011-02-03T08:51:00.000-05:00

Last evening after work I went over to KBDR to check on N631S and to see what would be needed to liberate the airplane from the aftermath of the recent winter weather. It was rather a shock to walk onto the apron and find that the airplane was gone. As in, not where I left it. Gee, it was there last Friday...

I thought first that perhaps the folks at Three Wing, from whom I rent the tiedown, had moved it to another location but it wasn't anywhere on their ramp, nor in either of their hangars. Then a thought occurred to me. I walked down the line to Volo Aviation's big hangar and looked in the window. There, snug and warm in a corner among the Gulfstreams and Lears, sat N631S!

Although I rent my tiedown from Three Wing, it is actually closer to Volo's ramp. When the storm was approaching they pulled the big iron inside and, according to their line person, "We couldn't see leaving you out there in the weather so we pulled yours in too."

Now, I am not a customer of Volo Aviation. They didn't need to trouble themselves about N631S. There's been no hint that they want to be compensated. They were just being good neighbors on the airport. So, herewith, a warm "Thanks, guys!" to the staff and management of Volo's KBDR operation. I owe ya' one.

1943 Howard DGA-15

2011-01-19T09:05:00.003-05:00

This morning I stopped off at KBDR to check up on N631S. While there I visited my friends at Three Wing Flying Services and saw this beautiful machine in their hangar for some avionics work.

The aircraft is a 1943 Howard DGA-15 powered by a 450 horsepower Pratt & Whitney R-985 radial engine. The engine's crankcase is painted the same yellow as the aircraft and the push-rod tubes are chrome plated. Very nice. At the age of 67 the old girl is looking good.

Aviation Trivia of the Day

2011-01-18T17:32:00.000-05:00

Attention is invited to an addition to the list of blogs maintained in the sidebar: Aviation Trivia of the Day. It is curated by J.P. Santiago who describes himself as, among other worthy things, an "Aviation Über Geek."

The blog is a compendium of delightful arcana and obscurities from the world of aviation. I expect it to be a substantial time-sink for me as I spelunk through its archives. If you, too, are an "aviation geek", I believe that you'll enjoy repeated visits.

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(More) (Further) Thoughts on the ELT

2011-01-13T18:04:00.000-05:00

Back in June of last year I discussed here an order promulgated by the FCC that would, with effect 60 days after publication in the Federal Register:

"...prohibit further certification, manufacture, importation, sale or use of 121.5 MHz ELTs."

This order caused a kerfuffle in the GA community, since the withdrawal of "approval" from 121.5 MHz ELT's would effectively place any aircraft using them in violation of 14CFR91 Subpart C Section 91.207.

Now, half a year later, the FCC has thought better of the whole thing. The Commission has issued a stay of the portion of its earlier order relating to 121.5 MHz ELT's.

The Commission carefully points out that:

"The FCC coordinated the Third Report and Order with NTIA (National Telecommunications and Information Administration) in November 2009. NTIA provided the draft version of the Third Report and Order to those agencies that participate in the IRAC (Interdepartment Radio Advisory Committee), including the FAA. The FAA raised no issues or objections to the portion pertaining to 121.5 MHz ELTs." (Emphasis added)

Of course, upon release of the Order, the FAA moved out smartly in pursuit of the horse that was now well out of the barn:

"On July 14, 2010, the (NTIA) forwarded to the Commission a request from the FAA that the Commission not implement this rule amendment. The FAA believes that the current supply of 406 MHz ELTs is not sufficient to replace all existing 121.5 MHz ELTs in the short term, so, given that most General Aviation aircraft are required to carry ELTs, a prohibition on 121.5 MHz ELTs would effectively ground most such aircraft. The FAA further asserts that 121.5 MHz ELTs can continue to provide a beneficial means of locating missing aircraft even without satellite monitoring of frequency 121.5 MHz, because the frequency is still monitored by the search and rescue community, including the Civil Air Patrol. It also is concerned about the cost of equipping aircraft with 406 MHz ELTs."

After a suitable period of bureaucratic soul-searching, the Commission has now stated that:

"Under these circumstances, we believe it would be in the public interest to further consider what actions the Commission should take in light of the termination of satellite monitoring of frequency 121.5 MHz, with the benefit of an augmented record. Toward that end, we will stay that portion of the Third Report and Order prohibiting the certification, manufacture, importation, sale or use of 121.5 MHz ELTs. No action will be taken regarding 121.5 MHz ELTs until further notice, following an additional opportunity for interested parties to comment."

Y'all can relax now. Let us hope with fervor that the now-ever-vigilant FAA can (via the IRAC and the NTIA) keep the FCC from doing anything rash with regard to ELT's.

After the Storm

2011-01-13T10:18:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's storm deposited 16 inches of snow on KBDR and this morning the airport is digging out. Most of the movement areas have been cleared (more or less) and final cleanup is in progress.

I made my way over there this morning and shoveled the remaining snow away from in front of N631S to the width of the main gear track. There is a small amount of icy residue clinging to the top of the wing, but the forecast is for a sunny day, not terribly cold, so I'm hopeful that it will go away of its own accord.

Meanwhile, the forecast for tomorrow afternoon and evening is favorable for a flight down to the DC area. I hope to take advantage of that.

A Visit to Potomac Approach

2011-01-10T18:04:00.001-05:00

One Friday evening back in mid-December, N631S and I were in the home stretch of our weekly trip from Connecticut down to the DC area. I checked in with the second Potomac Approach sector and the controller gave me an altimeter setting and asked if I had time for a question.

I said, "Sure!" and he asked whether I'd ever visited the TRACON (that's short for Terminal RAdar CONtrol, a/k/a "Potomac Approach"). I told him I had not.

He said, "My name's Eric; one of the other controllers here, Sarah, has introduced some of us to your blog and we'd like to invite you out here for a tour."

Well, that is not the sort of thing about which I need to be asked more than once. I told Eric that I'd love to, and that I'd co-ordinate through Sarah. (Sarah, incidentally, maintains a neat blog called Adventures of an Adventurer, which is linked in the sidebar over on the right.)

Sarah and I exchanged e-mails to settle on time and date and yesterday morning a good friend and I drove from Alexandria out to the Potomac Consolidated TRACON (PCT) facility in Warrenton, VA. We cleared security and Sarah came out to collect us. On the way in she explained that PCT is comprised of four sectors similar in size and scope and she'd be showing us the Mount Vernon sector where she works. We passed through a lobby, then through a doorway and came out on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise!

Potomac Consolidated TRACON (PCT)

Well, it looked like it to us! (We were in a "no photos" area, so the image above is borrowed from Wikimedia.) Sarah introduced us to Eric and to a couple others of her colleagues who said they'd kept N631S and I on the straight-and-narrow a few times. It's really nice to meet and greet the great people who go with those voices on the frequencies. Then, she spent over an hour showing us the tools of her trade, pointing out some of the challenges of the complex and busy airspace (especially around KDCA) and responding to questions.

First, I asked to see where the voice of Mt. Vernon Flight Data - from whom I pick up my outbound clearance on Monday mornings - originates. She showed us that station and we discussed some aspects of clearances and departures in the DCA airspace. I learned that any time I can depart VFR it saves the controllers working DCA arrivals and departures a fair amount of trouble. I also know, now, why it's better on occasions when the weather demands an IFR departure to depart Runway 6 at KVKX rather than Runway 24. (It has to do with the initial heading providing a diverging flight path relative to DCA traffic, while Runway 24 would be converging...which is less good.)

We then moved to one of the radar monitors around the circumference of the room and Sarah brought up a live display of the Washington Class B airspace. I was very interested in seeing how the RNAV Rwy 6 approach at KVKX cuts directly across the localizer for the ILS Rwy 1 at KDCA. Therefore, if I need to fly the instrument approach, the controller working KDCA arrivals has to orchestrate a gap in the arrival stream timed to let me slip in - no mean feat!

We talked about the fact that they always want me at 6,000 feet crossing KBWI on Friday evenings to avoid the arrival and departure flows. I asked, if I really needed 4,000 to avoid icing conditions could that be worked out? Sarah assured me that they were sensitive to pilots' needs to avoid adverse weather and would always work out a safe, acceptable flight path. All I have to do is ask for what I need and tell them why I need it.

Speaking of weather, my one disappointment is that for this visit there wasn't any! It was a perfectly clear morning, so we couldn't see the radar's weather display capability. Sarah agreed with my impression that the Approach Control radar has pretty good weather depiction capability. To minimize clutter, she usually works with the Level 1 and Level 2 returns suppressed (that's the green stuff on the NEXRAD display), but will watch the Level 3 and up returns and will work with us to stay clear of the mean stuff.

I asked Sarah if there was one thing we pilots could do to make the job she and her colleagues do a bit easier. She said that when the frequency is busy, we should be judicious in our readbacks and make more use of "Wilco". Yes, we need to read back altitude restrictions and approach clearances and the like. But for many transmissions, "Wilco" is a perfectly fine acknowledgement.

And here (left) is a photo of Sarah and me, taken as we were on our way out. I want to express my great appreciation to Sarah and Eric, and Al, their Supervisor, and the rest of the folks at PCT who went out of their way to let us have a look into their fascinating world.

100 is a Nice Round Number

2010-12-31T22:30:00.002-05:00

For no reason other than this: a total of 100 posts in 2010 is more satisfying than a mere 99.

See you next year!

Happy New Year (with a look back)

2010-12-31T21:00:00.003-05:00

New Year's Eve is a good time to look back at the twelve months just passed, as I did just a year ago in this posting. Now I have a second full year of experience with my nearly-every-week commute between Virginia and Connecticut so comparisons are possible.

N631S finished the year with 4,031.5 hours on the tach, having flown 177.9 hours in 2010. That's about 14% less than the 2009 total of 207.2 hours. Yet I made the round trip 37 and 1/2 times this year, twice more than last year. Maybe 31 Sierra is getting faster?

Actually, I suspect that the difference is attributable, at least in part, to better weather. (I discussed this earlier, in part, in this posting.) I logged 12.9 hours in actual IMC (instrument meteorological conditions) this year, less than half of 2009's 26.7 hours. Oddly, this year's total of 14 approaches flown in actual conditions is only down from last year by one.

Here's a possible partial explanation: This year many more of these approaches were flown into Bridgeport (KBDR), and those approaches can be flown rather efficiently. Not one was into Potomac Airfield (KVKX), in contrast with 2009 when I flew the RNAV Rwy 6 approach there eight times. That approach requires a considerable excursion to the southwest and will add a fair bit of time to the flight.

The same rationale may explain, in part, the fact that time logged at night for 2010 at 9.2 hours was just half the 18.4 night hours logged in 2009.

It's obvious that all of this couldn't have occurred unless N631S was an admirably reliable machine. In 2010 I experienced only two equipment failures and neither of these caused me to miss a flight I'd otherwise have taken. In July a brake master cylinder attachment bracket failed while taxiing after landing (discussed in this posting), and in August a wiring problem caused the autopilot to fail in IMC (discussed in this posting and in this one).

For me, 2010 has been a rewarding and enjoyable year of aviating. I hope it's been so for all of you as well. As always I am grateful for your visits (and especially comments!), and I hope you've found this blog interesting and perhaps on occasion even useful. So, Happy New Year! I hope that we all will enjoy a healthful, prosperous and safe 2011.

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...and It Was Good

2010-12-31T16:22:00.001-05:00

As anticipated in the previous posting, yesterday's flight from KBDR in Connecticut down to KVKX in the DC area was pleasant and uneventful. For most of the trip N631S and I cruised under altostratus layers a couple of thousand fee above us, mostly in temperatures above freezing. The photo below is typical.

We did come upon a cold (27F) cloud layer at 8,000 feet MSL just north of Lancaster (KLNS). I requested a descent to 6,000 in expectation of warmer air. The descent, quickly approved by Harrisburg approach, also put us below the clouds, and that was the extent of IMC for the day.

Here's the track for the flight, courtesy of FlightAware.com:

I'd be remiss if I neglected to report an embarrassing moment that occurred prior to departure. I am theological about leaning the fuel mixture going to N631S's big O-470U engine aggressively right after start. I go to full-rich for the run-up and leave it thus for takeoff. Leaning for ground op's keeps the spark plugs from fouling and is generally good for the engine. Here is an excerpt from the gospel according to Capt. John Deakin (Pelican's Perch #77):

Running [very] lean (lean of peak power) on the ground also absolutely prevents you from taking off with the mixture leaned. This is not true if you take half-measures: Either do it this way, or leave it full rich. I don't care how faithfully you use checklists, you will someday attempt a takeoff with the mixture leaned. If you have properly leaned for taxi, the engine will simply wheeze and lose power, making it very obvious you're not going anywhere...
Lean it aggressively on the ground, or not at all!

Well, this was the time I forgot to go to full rich for the run-up. I am now able to offer personal testimony that an aggressively leaned Continental O-470U will not keep running if one mag is shut off. I re-started immediately...maybe nobody noticed?

This Should Be Good

2010-12-30T13:36:00.002-05:00

After an AmTrak weekend last week, it's looking good for the flight from KBDR to KVKX this afternoon. First, and most importantly, N631S is free from the snows of last weekend. Actually, the high winds associated with the weather event did most of the work leaving the need for only minor shoveling on Tuesday.

The weather map is showing the eastern portion of the country dominated by high pressure which should lead to fair weather. (The map at left is the forecast for 18Z derived from the NAM model.)

The Terminal Area Forecasts (TAF's) for the afternoon and evening look good. Here are the 15Z forecasts issued for my departure and arrival locations.

 
KBDR 301435Z 3015/3112 VRB03KT P6SM SCT250 
     TEMPO 3015/3017 5SM HZ 
     FM301700 27005KT P6SM BKN200 
     FM302200 VRB03KT P6SM SCT050 BKN100 
     TEMPO 3109/3112 3SM BR
        
KDCA 301454Z 3015/3112 20003KT P6SM SCT150 BKN200 
     FM301700 14005KT P6SM BKN100 OVC120 
     FM302000 17006KT P6SM SCT060 BKN090 
     FM310000 19005KT P6SM SCT090 SCT120 
     FM310600 19003KT P6SM FEW100 BKN200

Bridgeport is expecting light winds from the west and some high cirrus, while DCA is calling for scattered clouds at 6,000 feet under a 9,000 foot overcast and light winds from the south.

So it looks like I can anticipate an uneventful trip for what will probably be N631S's last flight of 2010.

N631S

Nothing to Report

Book Review: "The Map of My Dead Pilots" by Colleen Mondor

Happy New Year (with a look back)

Life's Little Annoyances

More About the Fog

"On little cat feet"

"It's the Third Approach that Kills You"

Children of the Magenta Line

Parsing the Regs

First, the Good News...

Artifact

Into the Darkness

It Looks Like Summer's Over

Steve Jobs

Reflecting on Reno

Muddy Waters

Today at KBDR

Lee's Leftovers

An Eerie Silence

Ahead of Irene

The Mark I Eyeball (cont'd)

The Mark I Eyeball

21st Century Charts?

Some Time on the Road

Just...Damn!

Pilgrimage

100 Minutes

Hot Air!

Stormy Weather

Blue Stain Blues (cont'd)

Independence Day

Blue Stain Blues

Ask For What You Need!

Weather in Motion

Fire in the Sky

Today at KBDR

Memorial Day

"Opfer müssen gebracht werden!"

The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore!

A Bit Too Low for Me

How's This for a Switch?

Life's Little Annoyances

"Fix Your Little Problem and Light This Candle"

We're Not in Kansas Any More

2011 Annual Inspection (vii)

There and Back Again

2011 Annual Inspection (vi)

More About Sleep

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

2011 Annual Inspection (v)

2011 Annual Inspection (iv)

2011 Annual Inspection (iii)

2011 Annual Inspection (ii)

2011 Annual Inspection (i)

Meanwhile, From the Train...

A Modest Proposal

A Belated Happy Birthday

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Henry 3/15/1995 - 3/16/2011

The Warming of the Sky

Book Review: "Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War" by Robert Coram

Under the Weather

Book Review: "In My Sights: The Memoir of a P-40 Ace" by James B. Morehead

It's Always Something

Recommended Reading

A Break in the Weather

A Nice Surprise

1943 Howard DGA-15

Aviation Trivia of the Day

(More) (Further) Thoughts on the ELT

After the Storm

A Visit to Potomac Approach

100 is a Nice Round Number

Happy New Year (with a look back)

...and It Was Good

This Should Be Good