Walking on the Moon

How instrument pilots practice their skills can be confusing to non-pilots (or even to VFR-only pilots).  In mid-October Marc Zorn and I went up and did some practice approaches, and Marc took some great pictures that may help make the process easier to understand.  Here’s a short description of what we did.

First to set the stage, the whole LA basin was under an overcast layer with bases at between 1,000′-1,500′ and with tops between 2,500′-3,000′.  Visibility above and below the layer was excellent.  This means we were on IFR clearances all day, but much of our flying was in VFR conditions.  In fact, when we were above the clouds things looked like this:

Flying above the cloud layer

As you can see, as far as keeping the aircraft right side up, these conditions are (almost) as good as a clear day with no clouds at all.  I say “almost” because there are some differences between the cloud deck and a real horizon – a sloped cloud deck can lead to the illusion that the plane’s level when it’s really banked – and because it’s a lot harder to see where the airports are.  In order to practice controlling the plane without reference to the outside clues, the training pilot wears a view-limiting device – usually called a hood – that restricts what he or she can see.  Generally a hood restricts the pilot’s vision to stop at the top of the glareshield (dashboard on a car).  Here I am wearing a hood:

Me under the hood

While Marc is enjoying that gorgeous view, I’m seeing instruments and gray plastic. But, because I can’t see other airplanes Marc is acting as a safety pilot for me.  That means he’s looking out for other aircraft and letting me know if there’s a situation where I should remove the hood and take action.  Of course if there’s an emergency that happens so fast that it’s safest for him to take control of the airplane, he can do that as well.  We talk through the parameters of that on the ground.  A safety pilot needs to be qualified to fly the aircraft, of course.

While we’re above and below the clouds, I’m under the hood and Marc’s looking around (and taking the occasional picture).  Today we have some time when we’re in real instrument conditions – inside clouds.  When that happens, Marc lets me know and I take the hood off.  Here are a couple shots inside a cloud:

Flying inside a cloud

The wing in a cloud

That picture inside the plane isn’t photoshopped.  There’s nothing but white outside, and the plane is being controlled entirely by instruments (and me).  You can see the wings, as the second image shows, but without a horizon to reference, that isn’t much help.

For those of you familiar with the LA airspace, the picture inside the plane was taken just as we were joining the localizer for the ILS approach into Oxnard.  The ILS provides vertical and lateral guidance to the airport – that is it tells the pilot what direction to fly to get to the airport and how high to be at any point on the approach.  It’s a precise system. It can guide a plane to within 200′ (altitude) of the runway threshold, from which point you land by eye.  Today the ceilings were much higher, but after breaking out of the clouds I went back under the hood until the 200′ mark.  Inside the clouds the view looks like this (the blur is the propeller):

Looking out the front in a cloud

At around 1000′, we break out and it looks like this:

Breaking out at Oxnard

The runway is the black strip right above the curl in the cowling between the propeller and the oil door.  It’s much easier to see on the larger image.

If we’re flying the approach in real life, we transition mostly to visual flying at this point; while training I go back under the hood.  We land at Oxnard and then filed a flight plan to another airport and do it all again.  Sometimes pilots intentionally miss an approach (in coordination with ATC) to get more approaches in, but I wanted to practice the transition to visual flying through to a landing today.

So that’s a little bit about how instrument training goes.  Marc took all the pictures in this entry, and I downscaled them somewhat, so distortions are my fault.

It looks like Brenda and I will be flying East this year for the holidays, which means I’ll be finding extra excuses to go out flying this month.  Today’s excuse was a trip out to Corona, a small uncontrolled field out near Chino and Ontario.  Corona strikes me as a good community airfield and it’s usually a good trip, though it does get busy there.

The flight out through the LAX special flight rules corridor was pretty uneventful.  The Inland Empire had some haze in place, but nothing too bad.  I heard some people land at Corona ahead of me, but as I came in, I had the pattern to myself.

I tied down and moseyed over toward the restaurant, and spotted this cool Ercoupe on the way.

There are so many cool Ercoupes running around these days that there must be some kind of Ercoupe hot rodder’s club or something.

Anyway, I like Corona because it’s the kind of little field where you can see the planes along the town’s roads near the airport.

Of all the things at Corona that I liked in the past, the restaurant made the least impression on me.  It was fine, but I don’t remember it fondly.  And now I’ll have to remember it. A new place has opened up in the old restaurant’s place, called Bobby A’s.  I talked briefly with Bobby when I was there and he says he’s only been open since mid-September.  He should stay open for a while – the food is good and priced reasonably and the place feels like it’s run by people who care.  It’s pretty much a 50’s diner, but there were vegetarian options, and the breakfasts looked good.  I’ll definitely be back.

On the way out I passed this little vehicle outside the airport security office.  I don’t think I’d mess with a security guard riding it.

As I walked up to the place to move on, I saw this gorgeous Stearman running up and departing.  Boy do I love the old biplanes.

As I was getting untied and ready to go, I’m pretty sure I saw two planes almost meet in the middle.  A Cessna was in the pattern doing touch and goes arriving behind me and going into the wind.  I saw him land and heard an engine run up, which I assumed was the Cessna following through.  I looked up, though and saw an airplane that was coming toward me and turning right to the downwind. Then I saw the Cessna follow through.

I’m pretty sure they were headed right at each other, though they were never very close.

Not a good thing.

Anyway, I cruised over to Chino and got some landing practice in.  I was going to do a few at Corona, but honestly the pattern was pretty busy, and though some people were ignoring it, there was a sign saying no touch-and-goes on the weekends.  I try to be a good neighbor, so I flew the 2 miles over to Chino.

After a few trips around the patch, I filed an instrument flight plan back to Santa Monica just for the chance to drill procedures and practice working in the system.  The trip back went very well.

I’m looking forward to a few more before the big trip in December.

A 15-year old has flown cross country (as in across the country) landing at Compton Woodley.  Nice job.

I’ve got business and pleasure in Seattle next week, and I’m planning to fly myself up, along with a friend up in Monterey. I’ve been laying out flight plans for both IFR and VFR possibilities. Here’s what they look like (maps via Runwayfinder.com, which has a Google Maps interface. If you don’t like the charts, select map or satellite from the menu.):

• Santa Monica to Monterey VFR
• Monterey to Meford, OR VFR
• Medford, OR to Seattle VFR
• The whole thing (all VFR)

There are a few twists and turns in there, either to avoid protected or busy airspace, or just to overfly more hospitable terrain. The IFR plans look a little more complex, because there are more points along the routes. These are what I’ll file (probably) if I need to, actual routes may be more direct. There are more IFR legs, including two choices for getting to Salem, OR, depending on what the weather over the mountains between California and Oregon look like.

• Santa Monica to Monterey IFR
• Monterey to Redding, CA IFR or Monterey to Arcata, CA IFR
• Redding, CA to Salem, OR IFR or Arcata, CA to Salem, OR IFR
• Salem, OR, to Seattle, WA IFR
• The whole shebang (land route) IFR
• The whole shebang (shore route) IFR

Of course, all this planning is a bit speculative. Who knows what fires, weather, or presidential visits might pop up between this week and next. But the flight planning helps me familiarize myself with the lay of the land and get ready for the trip.

In my continuing effort to sharpen back up before I head off to Seattle, I tooled out to do some landings and take-offs. There aren’t that many airports that let you do touch-and-goes on the weekends, but Whiteman and El Monte do. I planned to hit them both today. I like to practice at other airports, because they’re unfamiliar enough that landings feel different from the zillion I’ve done at Santa Monica.

Image of a brushfire behind WHP (color enhanced)

The first interesting thing was that there was a smoke plume coming from out Whiteman way. The briefer hadn’t mentioned any closures or fire, so I figured I’d creep out that way and see if WHP was still open. It turns out it was, but the fire was close enough that I felt like I was in the way. They were conducting normal ops, though. I saw a banner tow pick up a banner and head out.

I did break one of my usual rules and take a picture of the smoke plume from near the coast in flight. From WHP you could see the flames.

After getting only 2 landings in at WHP, I went over to EMT for a few more. Overall these were OK, with little improvements, but I bounced the last one, so I decided to do a few more at SMO. I also aborted one takeoff on a touch-and-go because there was a big pack of birds on the runway milling about ominously.

Back at SMO the landings were decent. There was a good deal of gusty wind, which didn’t simplify anything, but still, one likes to do better. I did close out the session with a very nice short approach if I do say so myself.

Overall I’m feeling much less rusty.

We had the day off Friday, and I’d finally gotten my medical renewed (it was delayed by a combination of a loss of a flight surgeon and a lot of travel), so I decided to get up and shake some rust off.

I’d originally planned to go out to California City, a favorite desert spot, but I realized that Mojave’s tower would be open today, and the idea of adding a new airport to my list was attractive. Mojave Air and Space Port is famous for being the home of Scaled Composites, Dick Rutan’s company that built SpaceShip One and the Rutan Voyager. It’s also a facility for mothballing (and cannibalizing) airliners that aren’t in use. Importantly, there’s also a restaurant there – specifically one run by the same folks who run the restaurant at William J. Fox field (and California City).

Santa Monica was reporting a scattered layer at 800 feet, which at Santa Monica usually means that there’s a marine layer on the south end of the field, which was the case when I got there. I departed runway 3 (with a significant tailwind, but it’s a long runway by Archer standards) and had to kind of thread my way past a couple aircraft getting out. There was a combination of the layer, some close airspace, a burst of traffic, and a new controller in the tower than made it more cramped than I would have liked, but no big deal.

The actual flight out to Mojave was pretty uneventful. Fairly smooth air and little traffic. The air was clear, but not crystal.

On the way in, I heard another aircraft heading for Mojave, one calling “heavy” after its callsign. That’s an indication of not only an airliner, but a big one. Sure enough, when I got there the mothball facility was taking in a brand new Boeing (looked to me like a 767, but I’m lousy at this). I’m sure that was fun to land in a 20kt crosswind without an ILS.

Um, yeah, there was some wind. And some heat. When I got there they were reporting 12kts, with gusts to 21, and 34 degrees Celsius. As a result I landed on the narrow, short (relative standards – the runway was nearly as long as the one at SMO) runway 22. With all the gusts and the high density altitude, the landing a good challenge, but uneventful. I taxied up to the restaurant and took some pictures.

The food was good, as expected, and it was nice to be out of the hot, dry wind. As an airport restaurant, they’re required to have a bunch of airplane stuff on the wall, but the local boys do particularly well here. My menu was signed by Dick Rutan (and I suspect that most were) and there were plenty of pictures of him and his crew around. It had the vibe of supporting the airport family and was a nice one to pick up.

Getting ready to leave, it was time to address density altitude and gusts again. After leaning out for altitude, I took the longer, more convenient runway 26 for departure. The takeoff was a pretty good crosswind takeoff, but you could definitely feel the wind as you got off the ground. There was some turbulence, even at a low level, and work to do to keep everything straight and safe. It worked out well, though and I began putt-putting for home. And the putt-putting indicated that there was a pretty good headwind going back. I was seeing speeds in the low 90’s when I was indicating 110 or so, meaning 20 kts of headwind.

On the way back I got to relay a message for ATC to an aircraft that wasn’t hearing the transmitter. It’s just a little thing, but I always feel helpful doing it.

As I closed in on SMO, the field went IFR – the marine layer had walked back over the airport. While I had other choices, I figured the easiest thing to do was to get an IFR clearance. I’d gotten the weather before the controller, but he set me right up with the clearance.

The approach itself was one I’m used to being based at SMO. I wasn’t ever in the clouds, had the field in sight the whole way, but the regulations say no VFR (though special VFR was a choice). Still there are nuances. As I contacted SMO tower the same new voice from earlier was on the frequency. He asked me to report the field in sight, and I did immediately. He started to clear me for a visual approach, but I heard a familiar voice in the background say “<bzzzt> Wrong. Continue approach,” which he instructed me to do. I’m assuming that because I couldn’t go around in VFR conditions that they couldn’t issue me a visual approach clearance. And by “assuming” I mean that I’ll be looking it up…

I caught a little gust low, which made my landing less than beautiful, but it was still a good day.

A Federal court has upheld the FAA’s injunction against the City of Santa Monica’s attempt to ban some jets from the field.  It doesn’t directly affect me – 32169 needs to be going downhill to hit 121 kts – but it  is my home field.

The Flying Penguin has an interesting post about the fellow who abandoned his Piper Malibu to fake his death.  The Penguin is always interesting to read, and the crash happened in his airspace so he’s got some info.

I’ve been swamped by the holidays and work, so I haven’t been up in a couple weeks. I got a chance to remedy that today, and scooted out to Cable Airport for breakfast at Maniac Mike’s Café. Cable’s another one of the few uncontrolled, privately owned, public use airports in the LA basin – like Flabob. It’s usually an interesting place to drop in to.

I’d like to claim that my couple weeks off was the reason I screwed up my radio work on departure, but honestly, left and right are more fundamental than correct radio syntax. I asked for a right downwind departure and made a left downwind departure. Duh.

The flight out was under astonishingly clear skies. It was so clear I thought I’d mis-set my altimeter and was flying too low. Simply gorgeous views of the San Gabriels en route.

At Cable I joined the pattern (which was hopping) behind a CHP Cessna who was arriving from the opposite direction. My radios were better here, though less formal. Both of us slipped in without incident.

I took a bunch of shots at the airport, including the breathtaking mountains and a wing of RVs that had flown in. I’ve uploaded a couple here and more to Facebook. If you want to see the Facebook pictures and aren’t on there, drop me a line.

Breakfast was good, and I had a cup of coffee with it. I usually don’t indulge, but there’s something about Maniac Mike’s that makes me want a cup. One’s plenty for me, as I have no tolerance whatsoever.

After enjoying breakfast and scoping out the Pacific Flyer, a source of endless entertainment (and some actual reportage), I headed back out to SMO. Before I left I watched a pretty unusual looking aircraft land. It had an in-line gear arrangement like a glider, but was also a powered A/C. Maybe it was some kind of motorglider. In any case, the fellow flying it called it a Europa.

On the return trip I throttled back to a 90 kt. airspeed to enjoy the trip a little longer. I had some other stuff to do, and couldn’t really justify flying too much further, but slower worked just fine. Coming into Santa Monica, the tower asked for best forward speed to the runway to stay out in front of an arriving LearJet. I’m sure the controller was pleasantly surprised to watch me pick up 30 knots on final.

I even made a good landing.

The Onion is pointing out a grand opportunity for aviators and would be aviators.