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What's Up:
I know I get credit for more than my share of headaches bending your ears over my favorite subject; “No more third class medical.” I’ve shortened the words for space reasons, but I had little or no support from many of you that it might actually happen. Well, if I were a bettingman,who come to think of it I am, I believe it’s going to happen.
If you know me, you’ve probably heard me use the words, “Pilots have no common sense!” Well, in the end, I am going to be right; we just don’t have too much common sense, and I wish we had more, heck, I’d be happy if we just had some.
Keep your logbooks crossed that I’m right on this one … I have to be. It just makes good common sense.
What's Up:
Editorial: Something Has Changed
By Ed Downs
Another birthday, another reason to reflect. This writer and his twin brother have made it through another year with an evening spent with family, giving “the twins” a chance to reflect on careers in aviation that span 60 years. Yes, twins often have much in common and our choice of careers certainly points that out. While considerably beyond a traditional retirement age, this writer and his brother, Earl, continue to fly as active CFIs, work in the aviation industry, and deal heavily in subjects relating to flight safety, training, the promotion of recreational flying, and the future of general aviation through a direct interface with the FAA and government. As the evening’s musings of past adventures turned to reflecting upon “the good old days,” we realized that both of us were concluding that, “something has changed.”
Recreational flying is certainly not what it was 50 or 60 years ago. Expense has gone up dramatically, and the technological sophistication of GA airplanes, even old planes that have been retrofitted with modern avionics, is absolutely amazing. Having started flight training in the mid 1950s, we concluded that much has improved since we first flew in an Aeronca Champ with a wind driven generator and a two channel, low frequency radio. Mind you, that was considered to be a well-equipped trainer, being flown from busy Van Nuys Airport in Southern California. The training was rigorous, with maneuvers like 720 steep turns, spins, accelerated (and aggravated) stalls, and steep spiral descents all included in the CAA approved curriculum. No training flight was conducted without a simulated engine failure, frequently followed with a landing to a full stop. Of course, almost all private training done in this timeframe used planes like Champs, Cubs, T-crafts and other tail draggers, so both full stall and wheel landings were the order of the day.
Mentor In a Poopy Suit
By Bert Botta
The USS Randolph (CVS-15) underway on February 27, 1962. (USN Photo)In June of 1957, with the ink still wet on my high school diploma, the U.S. Navy shipped me off to my first duty station, Barin Field, Alabama.
As part of the agreement I made with the Navy as a reserve sailor, I committed to serve two years active duty immediately upon graduation from high school.
One year later, after serving my time at “Bloody Barin” as it was known throughout the Pensacola Training Command because of the frequent aircraft accidents among cadet pilot trainees, I received orders to report to Antisubmarine Squadron VS39 in Quonset Point, Rhode Island.
After arriving at Quonset, I spent a few months finding my niche in the squadron and preparing for my first deployment to the north Atlantic with VS39 aboard the U.S.S. Randolph, an aircraft carrier based out of Norfolk, Virginia.
Contrails: A Hand Me Down Flying School
By Steve Weaver
When I think about the aircraft that populated our flying business in the late ‘60s, I realize what an eclectic mix of airplanes it was. We had two, four, and six place airplanes, very old airplanes, one almost new airplane, and even a twin in the person of an old Aztec. Each had a role in the business, and each one had a distinct personality that I still remember.
At birth, except for colors and optional equipment, airplanes are pretty much identical to the brethren that share the production line. In 1977, while working for Cessna, I parked my new 310 demonstrator on the ramp at Allegheny Airport in Pittsburgh while I went inside to meet with someone. I returned a half hour later just in time to see a gentleman thoroughly pre-flighting my 310. I watched from a distance while he did a textbook preflight inspection. He drained all the sumps and inspected the fuel sample for dirt or water, he checked the oil in both engines, then slowly circled the airplane, poking this and wiggling that.
“Connectivity or Distractibility: One Pilot’s take on Smart Devices in the Cockpit”
By Shanon Kern
As a “Millennial,” my generation has grown accustomed to seeking out and purchasing the latest and greatest smart technology.
We are a connected generation who depend on technology to pay for our coffee, buy our music, reserve an airplane, and control the appliances in our homes. The cockpit, for me, provided a new space to connect with my devices. With a phone and a tablet, I had instant en-route access to my connected world. In theory, I could book a plane, check the weather, and navigate across the country with the same device I use to write this article. Until recently, the use of connected technology in the cockpit seemed like a no-brainer. I found a plethora of different “apps” that allowed me to do almost everything flight related digitally. Soon, I had no need for my analog E6B flight computer. My tablet was much lighter and easier to manage in-flight than sectionals, approach plates, and AFDs. My access to information seemed to be limitless.
Bravo for Adventure Celebrates the Romance of Early Aviation in Graphic Novel Style
Gustave Whitehead Announcement
Almost There
By Evan Isenstein-Brand
The engine starved and sputtered to a halt in my shaky hands. After several practice laps in the pattern, my instructor gave me a final handshake before neatly buckling his seatbelt across the seat and trotting over to join the crowd. I entered my focus mode, carefully examining my checklist before starting the engine again and receiving permission from the sympathetic tower operator to taxi out to the ramp.
Just like I had done dozens of times before, I made sure the plane was fit to fly and promptly received clearance to take off. The conditions were beautiful: little wind, few clouds in the sky, and only several other aircraft around the airport. It was the 4th of July. Of course the conditions were perfect.
Women of the Wind
Author Phil Nussbaum is intereviewed by In Flight USA
Contrails: Getting Ready For War
By Steve Weaver
The design of the government built hangars was standardized. This hangar is identical to the one still standing at the abandoned Lewis Field in Buckhannon, West Virginia. (Courtesy of Steve Weaver)Most who are interested in WWII aviation history are aware that one of the reasons the United States won the war was her amazing record of aircraft production once we were in the fight. From producing scarcely more than 2,000 military aircraft in 1939 to over 96,000 in 1944, the record year, the U.S. produced a total of more than 303,000 military aircraft during the war years. But where did we get the pilots to fly them?
In 1939, the Army had a total of only 4,502 pilots, including 2,007 active-duty officers, 2,187 reserve officers, and 308 National Guard officers. The number of new Army-trained pilots grew rapidly each year as war seemed more likely, from 982 in 1939, to about 8,000 in 1940, to more than 27,000 in 1941–but many more were needed, and the Army by itself could not train the huge numbers of cadets desperately required. But we had a plan.
An Old, Bold Air Carrier ROP (Retired, Old Pilot) Discovers the Meaning of Life at a Fractional
By Bert Botta
Bert Botta in the cockpit. I should have known better, thinking I was through flying and bolting into retirement seven years before the clock struck 60, leaving my air carrier home of 26 years.
The bailout from my airline was more reaction to the morose conditions created there by a corporate raider than logic. But it was also part of my quest to satisfy some silly, primeval longing for a deeper spiritual life in a world that continues to threaten the theft of an aviator’s soul.
My “retire now” knee-jerk reaction should have triggered a fail flag in my brain, to move slowly, consider my options. Just like a bad sim ride, everything I’ve done in a hurry I’ve screwed up.
Wright "B" Flyer EAA
What's Up: With A Very Heavy Weaker Heart Here I GO!
By Larry Shapiro
Hey Lar, have an accident? “No thanks, I just had one.”
I know, I know bad joke… But there are many lessons to be learned and shared here, and I have a chance to use some of my old faithful bad jokes to tell my story.
Since I’m running out of money, send me a dollar and a note reminding me how many times you’ve heard me say, “Pilots have no common sense, and I think it doesn’t exist in General Aviation.” Then I could buy that house in the country I always wanted.
Because I am in the middle of what some of you might call a legal situation, I’d call it an inconvenience or a contribution to my lawyer’s retirement fund. I’ve been told anything I write could be used against me… hummm, the truth could be used against me… what an interesting concept.
Faster Than a Speeding Bullet
By Donia Moore
From Here to…
The Colonel and Betty Jo. (Courtesy of Don Kindred)On Dec. 5, 1941, Colonel Robert E. Thacker, or “The Colonel,” as friends and admirers know him, was ordered to fly a new B17 E bomber from Seattle to his home base in Salt Lake City. A pilot in the Army Air Corps, the El Centro native had flown many aircraft, but never in the pilot seat of a B17. His commanding officer brushed that aside. In addition, the navigator assigned to his crew was so recently graduated that he still wore his cadet uniform. He was younger and less experienced than the Colonel. They took off on a cold, crisp, star-studded night flight over the southwest to test their skills before heading to Salt Lake and ended up in Tucson overnight due to snowy weather conditions.
The top general in the Army, General George Marshall woke them unexpectedly the next morning. With no warning or explanation, he ordered them to attach themselves to a flying convoy of 13 other bombers headed to the Philippines via Hawaii. None of the planes were armed. The Colonel called Betty Jo, then his wife of nine months, to tell her of his change of orders. The crew didn’t even have time to pick up their cars or their laundry before they had to leave. Betty Jo and a girl friend drove all night through the deep snow of Donner Pass, from their home in Salt Lake City to Hamilton Field, 20 miles north of San Francisco. When the military wouldn’t let her on the base, she cried until they gave in. After dinner with him at the Officer’s Club, she watched him taxi out to the runway, not knowing when she would see him again. He flashed his landing lights at her during takeoff to say goodbye.
Remote Runways: Missionary Aviation from a Pilot’s Perspective
By Yayeri van Baarsen
Where they fly, there is often no go-around, extremely sloped landing strips consist of nothing more than dirt road, and runways might double as the town’s main street. Meet the hardcore heroes of jungle flying: bush pilots.
Joe Hopkins with the Shell Plaza Plane and oil derrick in the background. (Courtesy Joe Hopkins)Papua New Guinea, Honduras, and the Philippines are just three of the more than 40 countries Joe Hopkins, founder of Mission Safety International, has flown in. With decades of experience, he has also trained many other pilots in jungle and bush flying, where morning dew can make the already short landing strips as slippery as ice, and the sudden drop off in the ravine might be only a couple of hundred feet away.
“I’ve landed in humid areas in Honduras where when putting on the brakes, it felt like I was speeding up. Pumping the brakes and having crosshatched tires helps, but the most consequential instrument is a pilot’s state of mind and good judgment,” Joe said. Pre-planning and keeping contact with the missionary in the village about the state of the runway are also of vital importance. “If there’s just one inch of standing water, it’ll be all over your windshields, obscuring your vision, but you can probably still land relatively safely–I’ve done so. However, if the water is two to three inches deep, which looks the same from the air, there will be too much drag on the wheels, causing a tailwheel to easily tip over,” he explained. Being a missionary pilot is not for the fainthearted.
Editorial: Spring Has Sprung
By Ed Downs
Earl Downs’ handcrafted Zenith CH601 XL-B. (Earl Downs)To be sure, there is plenty to complain about as this writer once again attacks the keyboard. Civil unrest, recent questionable rulings by the FAA, the second version of the pilot’s Bill of Rights now in process, emerging safety concerns about the basic flying skills of pilots and of course, the high cost of playing with our beloved flying toys. But let’s take a break and just go flying. It is, after all, spring and airshows, fly-ins, and breakfast flights are blooming all over the country. Occasionally this writer actually takes to the air for reasons other than business. Such was the case week ago.
The Pylon Place: What’s New at the Reno Air Races?
By Marilyn Dash
Last year’s winner, Voodoo and Stevo HintonThe big news everyone is talking about is the hiring of Mike Crowell as the president and chief executive officer of the National Championship Air Races. After a few visits with Mike, I can say that I am very happy to see someone of his caliber taking the reins.
“We are extremely fortunate to have someone of Mike’s caliber step in to take the helm at the Reno Air Races,” said John Agather, chairman of the RARA board of directors. “We are looking to Mike to bring his leadership, experience, and expertise in running efficient organizations to the Reno Air Races so that we can ensure this important northern Nevada event is successful for many years to come.”
Flights of Mercy – Liga International
From Saddles to Cessnas, Liga International Flying Doctors of Mercy are Changing Lives
By Donia Moore
Pilot Volunteer Tim Murphy and friends. (Courtesy of Liga)A train trip through the dusty Sinaloa desert of Mexico gave birth to the idea, which became Liga (League) International (Flying Doctors of Mercy). When physician, Iner Sheld Ritchie, traveled to Mexico City from the U.S. to treat then-President Abelardo Rodriguez in the 1930s, he noticed great illness and suffering as he passed through the country of the Yaqui Indians, some of Mexico’s poorest residents. He discussed the situation with the President, who offered help. Dr. Ritchi’s idea grew during his three-month long “vacation” horseback trips into Sinaloa, Sonora, and Baja, California to treat his impoverished “patients.” Word of his healing expeditions went the rounds of his medical colleagues, and it wasn’t long before he had a cadre of physicians joining him to help. Liga was on its way.
Skydive
By V. Feyling
As I get suited up, I can feel my heart racing and the butterflies starting to flutter. To start off this New Year, my boyfriend and I decided to take an adrenaline jump of a lifetime. We hop in and I soon realize, there is no turning back–I’m going to jump out of this plane.
I can feel the forced smile on my face as my skydiving instructor, Sean, rotates the GoPro towards me and says, “You excited?”
All snug in this tiny little aircraft, I look out the window in fear, focusing on the absolutely stunning Santa Barbara horizon.