Letters

Among the clouds

Thomas A. Horne's " Wx Watch: Among the Clouds" (March Pilot) was right on. Like most aviators I know, I have a true fascination with the splendor and awe of weather and clouds, as well as a basic understanding of the physics of clouds, their formation and capabilities. Unfortunately, this lackluster knowledge of our fluffy friends or foes in the sky is precipitated by (no pun intended) the relative ease in learning the FAA bank of test questions. Rather than actually learning about weather from a school or class — or, better yet, an instructor — my cloud knowledge comes from a little red book and limited actual experience.

But in reading Horne's article, I could relate to just about every one of his keywords; less Learjet country and contrails, but nonetheless, this was a fantastic method to teach what it is like when you do decide to enter that towering cumulus or any weather phenomenon that you have not experienced. His keywords reminded me of some of my own experiences that will most importantly affect my future decisions in the air. I only wish that more important aviation experiences could be learned from the practicality of keywords.

Nathaniel Jaros AOPA 1269022
Midwest City, Oklahoma

Horne was full of good advice and warnings about flying in or near certain cloud types. As a sailplane pilot flying the Sierra Nevadas for the past 7 years, I can attest to exciting rides associated with roll clouds, high-altitude scuddy cumulus near the bases of cumulonimbus, icy virga, and microbursts, not to mention wing-bending standing mountain-wave rotor clouds and cloud-to-ground lightning. We get it all here during a typical season. I have also lost 10,000 feet of altitude in a matter of minutes after passing through a squall line. The lessons learned are to tighten the seat harness and circumnavigate, if at all possible, or retreat to calmer conditions, preferably near a suitable landing field. I also always fly with a parachute.

Peter Williams AOPA 1093215
Gardnerville, Nevada

Moments of truth

John Sheehan's article " Controlled Experiences" (March Pilot) expressed an area of flight training I have been thinking about for some time, that of a pilot's reaction during an actual unexpected or hazardous situation. I believe it is virtually impossible to simulate a situation so as to produce the intense emotional reaction that occurs during an actual unexpected event.

As Sheehan states, we train and study about the consequences of "high and hot takeoffs" but may never actually experience the consequences. Or for more dangerous situations like flight into adverse weather, equipment failure, and other problems, it is difficult to produce a realistic experience other than through simulation or overly contrived situations. When an actual "moment of truth" or unexpected situation arrives, pilot reaction, I believe, depends upon the ability to draw upon knowledge and previous experience. I believe that simulation and carefully planned maneuvers, even though they lack the intensity of the unexpected, can provide this experience.

This winter, on one of my first solo flights away from the airport, a wave of panic flooded over me as I realized I had lost the airspeed indicator. After the first few seconds of pitch and power changes, the shock wore off because other indicators did not add up — the sound, for one. I knew the difference between the sounds at 40 and 100 knots. Also, the controls did not feel mushy or overly sensitive. Suspecting ice in the pitot tube, I descended to 1,200 feet and flew back to the airport. During the trip back, the airspeed slowly returned to normal. It was not until I cleared the active that I thought of the pitot heat switch.

What struck me most was my reaction to the situation. Alone, without my instructor, I had no fallback. The intense emotion I initially felt gave way to the realization that I could fly without the airspeed indicator. I was able to eliminate the emotion, the feeling of panic, by drawing upon previous experiences.

As Sheehan suggests, if we are lucky enough to have a mentor who understands the aeronautical "moments of truth," practical experience can be extended.

Henry Grant AOPA 1311722
Miller Place, New York

Sad reminder

" Shuttle Training Aircraft: Flying the Ultimate Sim" (March Pilot) was a sad reminder of how much I had come to look forward to Bob Overmyer's contributions to AOPA Pilot and how quickly he was gone. I sincerely hope that he left more articles for you to share with us. He always left me wanting more.

Jonmark Stone AOPA 1176721
Nashville, Tennessee

Regrettably, that was the last Overmyer article that we will have the privilege of publishing — Ed.

Studying cases

The practice of studying the mistakes of others in order to avoid them ourselves seems so axiomatic to me that I was quite surprised by "Mr. West's" attitude as described in Bruce Landsberg's " Safety Pilot: Case Study Methods" (March Pilot). Given that he was a military pilot, this is all the more surprising. Having received my own flight training both in the Navy and as a civilian, I recognize such study as critical. I am also an MBA student at Harvard Business School, mentioned in the article for pioneering the case study method. And I can vouch that, in both my flight and career training, studying the mistakes of others is paramount to avoiding them yourself. Mr. West should understand that too.

It is true that one can become frightened by how easily catastrophic mistakes are made. When I sit in the classroom and discuss how some recent MBA graduate has wrecked a company and his or her career through a simple mistake, it gives me a shiver. But I pay a lot of money to sit through that for two reasons: One, it teaches me how to avoid the same mistakes by dissecting and understanding what went wrong. Two, and more important, it teaches me humility. I recognize that I, too, could make such a mistake.

In my aviation experiences, I've learned much the same thing. While studying the (often fatal) mistakes of others is sobering, we do it to learn how to avoid them and to remind ourselves that we are not immune to them. Most of us know that flying is safe, relative to many of life's pursuits. This is true partly because of the case study practice. Studying air crashes is a humbling, even frightening exercise. But if it keeps people alive, it is well worth it. I regret every case in which a pilot gives up flying because of fear. But I'd much rather lose someone that way than to an accident.

Don Mathis AOPA 1285206
Boston, Massachusetts

Time to look and listen

With all due respect to George E. Hotaling (" Letters," March Pilot), I'm afraid that he misses the point entirely. Both aircraft involved in the Quincy collision were overequipped with avionics. Requiring additional equipment will not prevent these unfortunate incidents unless we pilots learn to use the equipment God gave us — our eyes and our ears — to see traffic and listen for the position reports of others.

Craig Owens AOPA 994377
Reno, Nevada

George E. Hotaling's letter is interesting but a little off. We don't need people running around, screaming that the sky is falling and demanding that everyone should have a radio.

One thing that a flight instructor cannot teach is common sense. The student either has it or not; and that, tied with the fact that an examiner can't deny a certificate because of the lack of common sense, is where these accidents and what Hotaling calls aggressiveness comes from.

I enjoy flying without a radio, even though the space is growing smaller. Others fly with radios that are in disrepair or are unintelligible. So keep the faith, see and avoid, and remember that the aircraft flies because of Bernoulli and not Marconi.

Richard Wirtz AOPA 538436
Juneau, Alaska

Kiss and spell

In reference to Marc E. Cook's " How it Works: Magic Buss" (March Pilot), Heritage Dictionary defines a buss as a kiss. Certainly, some kisses may seem electrifying, but the electrical conductor is more properly called a bus. The March issue is yet another good one. Keep it up.

Dave Doerr AOPA 872057
Pocatello, Idaho

Shocking to say, we did mean bus — Ed.

High-flying buss

I cannot believe some of the public's reactions to Mile High Adventures' operation (" Pilot Briefing," March Pilot). As a proud member of the Mile High Club, I take great exception to people's saying that what I do in the privacy of my airplane is "the community's business." If they only knew how many people are up there trying to fly the airplane and keep their membership current at the same time .... At least Mile High has someone flying the airplane who isn't otherwise distracted.

Desiree Gutierrez AOPA 1106761
California City, California

Continuing this racey theme

Just a word of correction to the caption on the Thunder Mustang photograph (" Pilot Briefing," March Pilot). Ryan Falconer was an engineer with famed racing mechanic George Bignotti on John Mecom's Ford four-cam-powered Lola, with which Graham Hill won the 1966 Indianapolis 500-mile race. He was not the designer of the famed Novi V-8, which, in fact, never won the 500.

Falconer, whose V-12 engine powers Dan Denny's three-quarter-scale P-51, was a top engineer with Andy Granatelli in the days when Granatelli had taken over the Novi engines from Lew Welch and attempted to win the race with them (1962 to 1966). In 1966, actually, the Novi was wrecked in practice and did not make the race.

The designer of the Novi in 1940 was Lou Goossen, employed by Fred Offenhauser to do the work for Welch. Fable has it that Henry Ford paid the bills, attempting to win Indy with a V-8 after the fiasco of the 1935 Ford V-8-powered Miller-Fords.

I deal in some depth with the story of the original Novi V-8 in my recent book, Offenhauser, the Legendary American Racing Engine and the Men Who Built It.

Gordon Eliot White AOPA 189969
Alexandria, Virginia

The author is an auto racing advisor to the Smithsonian Institution. Pilot was provided with incorrect caption information — Ed.

Height vs. altitude

I feel that the answer Barry Schiff gives for " Test Pilot" question nine (March Pilot) is incorrect. I feel that the altitude of 13,500 is the decision altitude, not the decision height. Decision height refers to the altitude in feet agl, and it seems rather unlikely that the ILS would have a decision height of 13,500 feet (remember — that's agl). This seems to be the modern definition according to Jepp, prior to July 28, 1989. Decision height was indeed an msl value when referring to Jepp plates.

Brent C. Courtney AOPA 945347
Friendswood, Texas

Barry Schiff responds: You are absolutely correct. The figure given is the decision altitude, not the decision height. Unfortunately, old habits die hard, and every once in a while I inadvertently revert to the old terminology.

We welcome your comments. Address your letters to: Editor, AOPA Pilot, 421 Aviation Way, Frederick, Maryland 21701. Send e-mail to [email protected]. Include your full name, address, and AOPA member number on all correspondence, including e-mail. Letters will be edited for style and length.