Get extra lift from AOPA. Start your free membership trial today! Click here

Home Field Advantage

How good is your local-area knowledge?

Up here in Maine, we're famous for testy jokes concerning people "from away" who stop at a country store and ask for directions. The humor is at their expense, of course, and is made possible by the way they pose their question to the old salt who always delivers the punch line.

This traditional humor extends to aviation anecdotes. A visiting pilot asked one of the old-timers if it was possible to fly a particular route from Maine to Vermont at 3,000 feet. The White Mountains lie along the middle of this route, making a low-altitude passage a very bad idea. But that's not exactly the answer he got. The exchange goes something like this: The pilot asks, "Can you fly from Bangor to Rutland at 3,000 feet?"

The old-timer responds, "Only once."

Jokes at the expense of naive out-of-towners are a standard thing around here, but only partly obscured by the old-timer's less-than-loquacious lament was the fact that he was actually being helpful. Don't fly at 3,000 feet.

When I first settled in these parts and began flying with the old salts, I recognized the value of the intimate knowledge that they displayed of their flying environment. You could tell the ones who really knew their stuff from all the others by how much knowledge they had stored in their heads, and how quickly they could sift through it if an occasion arose. This was a valuable skill. I admired it and resolved to adopt it as my own.

Knowing the territory is one of those skills that says a lot about a pilot. It is one of the qualities that separates a pilot with mere technical competence from a pilot, or instructor, who is always absorbing knowledge from his or her flight environment. Sure, there are charts and books where you can find much of the data. But local-area knowledge of the more intimate type goes beyond what's contained in official publications. How up to date you are regarding your aviation environment is a direct measure of how much knowledge you can convey to someone else.

Here is a knowledge quiz that you can take in the privacy of your own thoughts. Official and unofficial knowledge are fair game. A passing or failing grade will be determined by whether you feel you can give someone who wants to "really know the territory" his or her money's worth. Let's start with official information available in charts and other flight publications. But without first reviewing those documents, get out a pencil and paper and try to answer the following questions:

How many VORs are there within a 100-mile radius of your home airport? Name them and then write down the identifiers and frequencies. How many of them offer voice transmission on 122.1 MHz? What other frequencies are available for voice? How many of the navs provide hazardous in-flight weather advisory service broadcasts? How many of these VORs do not have DME? Suppose you are at the intersection of the 090-degree radial from VOR X and, say, the 180-degree radial off VOR Y (make these up according to your mental picture of your area), how far and on what approximate bearing are you from your home airport? What is the nearest airport to this location? How many airports are within 50 nm of your home field? Write down from memory the identifiers and the communications frequencies. Now tackle the runway bearings and lengths. An estimate within 100 feet is considered passing. Then label the airports on your list A, B, C, etc. What is the approximate magnetic course from B to D? From C to F? Could you fly the route at 3,000 feet (more than once)? What are the highest obstructions on a flight along the A-C-F-A route? What kinds of airspace would this route penetrate? If the weather closed in, which airport would offer the best chance to shoot an approach and get down? What types of approaches are available at each? What airport in this area has the shortest runway? The longest? Which airports do not offer fuel? Which do you consider the trickiest field? This may not necessarily be the shortest runway; it could be one with a steep grade, obstacles, a rough surface, or some other feature that has given the place a bad name. Which airports have runway lights? How do you turn them on? Who has the best coffee? (In such knowledge does the CFI truly earn the big bucks.) From memory, list five things that have changed on your local sectional chart from that old chart tacked to the wall of the FBO. How many changed frequencies, newly paved runways, airspace changes, and new cell-phone towers can you find? The sectional, when does it expire? Has it expired?

When training primary students, I have always found it worthwhile to expose them to as many different airports and environments as possible before sending them off for the checkride. Suiting these destinations to the day's lesson plan, or to the wind/weather situation, sometimes requires a quick decision based on knowing the territory.

The observant student sees that this is "stored" knowledge and resolves to emulate the method of absorbing all those details of the local aviation universe. This could pay dividends in an emergency some day.

The best example of the pilot who has not achieved this level of awareness is also conveyed by a "Down East" story. A pilot runs low on fuel, makes a precautionary landing on a country road, and sees that he has touched down within a few feet of a gas station. Pleased with his luck, he rolls up to the pumps and hops out. There he sees the (inevitable) old-timer sitting in a rocking chair. The pilot says, "Don't see too many airplanes taxi up to your pumps, do you?"

The old man shakes his head. "No," he says. "A few have tried, but no one's ever made it this close before."

By Dan Namowitz

Too Realistic

Going from simulated to actual emergencies

Bruce Landsberg

In the quest to make training more realistic so that they can better teach and evaluate student response, flight instructors try to simulate emergencies. One essential goal is not to create an actual emergency in the process of training. Then it's no longer training, it's the real thing, and the risk level goes up significantly.

A Cessna 152 with a flight instructor and student pilot aboard was destroyed when it nosed over during a forced landing on a plowed field following a total loss of engine power. There were no injuries. The student had flown earlier in the day and the aircraft had an estimated 20 gallons of fuel on board when the CFI, "went up with her once again to check her status on the maneuvers."

The instructor said he, "turned the fuel off to simulate an engine failure" and the student performed the emergency procedures associated with an engine failure. When the fuel selector was returned to the on position, the engine did not restart. The instructor said he, chose "the best [field] in the area considering the altitude and our rate of descent."

The instructor said the airplane touched down in the field and that the next event he recalled was the student "calling his name several times." He apparently did not recall the rule about notifying the NTSB immediately after an accident. The mishap was reported to the NTSB about two months later and the airplane was not available for examination.

This problem, a real accident resulting from a simulated emergency, periodically resurfaces. The CFI may have been the victim of such a "simulation" in his training and since it had always worked in the past, it seemed like a realistic way to practice an engine-out with a student.

For reasons that should be obvious by now, the recommended way to simulate an engine failure is to reduce the throttle to idle. Cutting off the fuel by use of the mixture control or the fuel selector may introduce air into the fuel line and prevent a restart when you need it most, which is what happened to the CFI and student in the earlier example. The realism in this approach is fantastic, but the results may damage more than your reputation.

Bruce Landsberg is executive director of the AOPA Air Safety Foundation.

Related Articles