Flight Training Story – Almost Upside Down at Night

With all of your flight training, there will be times when you get the idea that your instructor is bad or doesn’t know what he’s talking about, maybe not in such a bold way, but it will happen. This brings me to a story I have of a night out cross country with a student.

The flight itself is quite simple and safe for night flights. The flight is from Mesa Falcon Field to Wickenberg, Arizona. I have personally put this flight in my curriculum for many reasons. I have gotten into many arguments with the instructors who worked for me about this flight. Several of them refused to make the flight and ended up taking the student to Tucson. As far as I’m concerned, this defeats the purpose of the cross country night. Following a large illuminated highway between two large bright cities does not expose you to the real situations that can occur on a cross-country night.

Don’t let your instructor take you to an easy-to-find illuminated destination like New York City. Go somewhere that’s pretty hard to find, at least for you, not your instructor. Yes, you want to make sure the instructor knows where you’ll be landing in the event of an engine failure, but you need to be on a flight that can cause you some trouble if you’re not paying attention.

Back to my story.

I will call the student John. You know I’m totally against using all this high-tech stuff for private pilot training and even instrument ratings. Do you remember what the pilot’s number one job is? Yes, the plane flies! I’ve also already said that it will take you about 500 hours before you have this second sense stuck in your internal memory. Even then, a difficult situation will be a battle between many parts of your brain at the same time.

John called me in the afternoon about his overnight flight. We checked the time, and at the end of the call, John said that he had just received his new Garmin 95 GPS device, the latest and greatest, and asked if he could take it with him. You probably already know me pretty well and you know exactly what my answer was: “No!”

John showed up at the airport with his cross-country flight plan planned and on file, and ready to go. Before I left the office, that shiny new Garmin box came out. “Fred, you have to see this… this is the new Garmin 95, the best, the latest and the best…” This was in 1996. Garmin had no name at the time. and had just entered the market.

“Please, please, can we take him with us?” After so much begging, I finally gave in. Somewhere deep in my mind, I had a small smile and a voice just said, “Okay.”

Before John began his preflight, he set up his new Garmin 95 in the control column. I knew right then that we were going to have a good time! I told John that he couldn’t turn it on until we got out of Phoenix airspace, which is right where it starts to get nice and dark. He said, “Okay, no problem.”

We took off and headed west as planned. John was correct with all the checkpoints and times on him. Open flight plan at the right time. He was getting an A+ at this stage of the ball game. We arrive about five miles west of the Deer Valley airport, where it starts to get nice and dark. (Again, don’t do a night cross country when there’s a full moon! It’s nice to see the big bright moon from 4500 above the ground, but it makes your night cross country easier. If you’re doing your first night flight as a pilot with license with your girlfriend/boyfriend, do it, that’s the safest thing to do).

John looked at me with those puppy dog ​​eyes and asked, “Can I turn it on?” At that point, I just looked at him and said, “Yeah.” The little voice in my head spoke to me again: “Now it’s time for the real lesson to begin.”

John turned on the greatest new gift to mankind. The screen came on and he said, “Look, Fred, isn’t that great? It tells you everything!” The little voice in my head said, “Yeah, sure. He tells you everything except what your number 1 job is on a plane.”

John continued to play with his new toy. I learned way back in 1989 that there are times when the flight instructor’s job is to shut up and let the student go. This was definitely one of those moments.

At first, John had it under control. He was following his line on the screen and it was fine, but he knew that sooner or later it would distract him from his number one job. . . Yes, the plane flies!

A while passed and John decided to start playing with the options on the screen. Now I knew that the great lesson had begun, so I just sat there. Slowly his altitude began to rise and fall, not much at first, but he knew it was going to get worse.

I looked at John, and his head was down looking directly at the GPS. By the way, the time frame for this entire lesson was probably less than a minute.

John continued to look down and said, “Hm, I can’t find the screen I’m looking for.” I just sat there. Slowly, he began to turn to the right, with only a few degrees of bank, heading for the mountains. The aircraft began to slowly lose altitude as the right turn began to become more pronounced. There was no horizon at all, so John had no idea what was going on. Fortunately, he was one of the students who took my aerobatics option before solo, so he was familiar with the extreme and unusual attitude. But not at night.

Slowly but surely, the plane had entered the dreaded graveyard spiral in the cruise power setting. I waited and waited, hoping the sound of the wind howling through the plane would give him a clue, but no, he had been trained for this many times, but he didn’t get it.

The aircraft continued to enter a steeper bank. If it had been daytime, I would have turned it upside down, but not at night. Finally, it was time to open your mouth. “Nothing bad?”

John looked up and the four-letter string of words began to flow. He has the plane under control. Power back level ailerons and level nose. However, he was still heading the fastest way to meet God, right in the mountains a few miles north of the very dimly lit road I plan on as my emergency landing spot.

I said, “What can you see in front of you?” “He responded with, ‘Nothing.’ I said, ‘So that means . . . ?’ I received the answer: “I am flying directly towards the ground.” That answer was quite correct; with his new heading, he was flying straight into the hills. Since we lost about 1,500 feet, our altitude was perfect for the big hit.

I raised my voice a bit and said, “If you can’t see anything, you’re in trouble. Find some light, start climbing, and head in that direction.”

John controlled the plane, turned off the GPS and we had an uneventful flight to Wickenberg and then back home to Falcon Field.

When we got back to land, John said, “I think I’m going to learn to fly before I worry about GPS.” He also requested some unusual attitude night training. I also recommend this.

So again, the little lesson is to fly the plane! John was distracted from that work by his little GPS. If you insist on using this material, make sure you know how to use it and don’t try to learn it on the plane, especially at night!

As for disorientation, it can happen very quickly, and when it does, it’s not going to be pleasant. It has happened to me in real conditions of the instrument. I had all my grades, and it still took a few minutes before my blood pressure dropped.

Just remember this unusual little attitude check, which you should be able to repeat at the bar when you’re about to hit the ground:

Airspeed High, Gold, “I hear the wind howling outside the plane”

1: power back
2: Wing level
3: Aircraft level nose
4: Once you have the aircraft under control, power back on and return to your altitude and heading

Airspeed Low: or “I don’t hear any wind blowing off the plane”

1: nose forward
2: Wing level
3: Once you have the nose at descending height, add power. Why? If you don’t remember, read my spin training story.

If you’re out on a dark night, you’ll be fighting that attitude indicator. Get some training on unusual nighttime attitudes. Then come back a few weeks later and do it again until it reacts automatically, especially after some time has passed.

Make sure you go somewhere that isn’t easy, and make sure it’s on a dark night. Don’t fall short in your flight training

hope to see you in heaven

air freddy