We all have our own lists of "good" and "bad" airports, and the latter are often ones we've not flown into - at least not solo. Those strange airports are usually ones we've either heard hangar tales about (often exaggerated to enhance the status of the storyteller) or had trouble with in the past. We tend to avoid them, and by doing so, our fears about them often become unjustly magnified.
Many factors can be responsible for the bad press that some airports receive. It may be caused by squirrely winds, unpredictable weather, a complicated layout, convoluted local procedures, minimal facilities, or maybe it's just the locals and how they treat transient pilots. I learned to fly at an airport that had such strong crosswinds that it was off-limits to solo students based at a big, multiple-runway, tower-controlled field nearby. To me, a pilot who "grew up" there (and consequently hadn't heard the references to "strange or difficult"), it was home, sweet home.
Recall, for a moment, your first lesson and your very first airport. Mine was a one-runway, one-taxiway, 2,200-foot paved strip with a strong crosswind and no tower. It was a blessing for new students, or so I thought. Located at sea level, the altimeter always unwound to "zero," and the runway numbers were the easiest of reciprocals: 13 and 31. Definitely a case of ignorance is bliss. I came to be very familiar with "my airport" and never knew until later that it had a less-than-savory reputation.
When I finally experienced a "new" airport, my instructor pointed out the important details during one of my lessons. Since he knew where he was going, I felt none of that strange-airport-itis, known so well to pilots everywhere. He gave me the facts I needed to know, filled me in on local procedures, and made it easy to handle the unknown.
Subsequently, I encountered my first unfamiliar airport during my initial solo cross-country flight. It was, of course, planned and over-planned to include every detail I could find about that field. I wrote down helpful notes on the sectional to remind me when to make the required radio calls, including direction and distance from the airport, which way to turn for which traffic pattern, the correct altitude, and how to taxi to the FBO. This is just the kind of planning we all should use before landing at (or taking off from) a strange airport. It worked well then and continues to work well for me today, some 32 years and many thousands of flight hours later.
If you're familiar with an airport's quirks you'll find the only thing strange about it is the undeserved label some other pilots give it. The key to changing an airport's "bad rap" is to find someone who's knowledgeable about the field to brief you. Lacking that, find a way to familiarize yourself with the various important details in an orderly manner - just as you might receive them during a face-to-face briefing from a local instructor pilot.
Finding a new airport you've never flown to is a form of trail-blazing, particularly if you're flying VFR. It's much easier to find the field when you're IFR. The correct runway (and of course, the airport) will magically appear at the end of your instrument approach with relatively little looking, wondering, or waiting. As a matter of fact, I know some pilots who file IFR regardless of the weather and admit they obtained their instrument tickets for just that reason.
It's not easy if you're VFR. You'll need to plan ahead, cross-check landmarks with your chart, use any available navaids, and remember that GPS is nice but is not the total solution. You still have to see the airport with your own baby blues in time to adjust your speed and altitude, enter the correct traffic pattern, make a normal approach and landing, and then find your parking spot.
Spotting the airport involves what I call the "hi/low" dilemma. Should you stay at a higher altitude to help you find the airport and then have to lose the excess altitude at the last minute, probably to the discomfort of you and your passengers? Or, should you begin a gradual descent at a reasonable distance, hoping you'll spot the field in time to accomplish all the necessary prelanding preparations?
The solution to this common problem is simple. When in doubt, overfly the airport at altitude (at least 1,000 feet above the traffic pattern altitude), figure out the lay of the land, and then return for a landing. The old adage "one peek is worth a thousand words" is certainly true in the aviation world, particularly when you're a first-timer looking for the field.
I learned this lesson the hard way, many years ago, while approaching the terminus of a transcontinental air race. Not having the luxury of time to spare, I elected to make a long descending final toward what I thought was the correct airport (and runway) we were supposed to fly by to mark our time across the finish line. Unfortunately, what I thought was a runway turned out to be a mirage. We ended up at pattern altitude five miles south of our goal, staring straight ahead at a deserted country road. Not a good race strategy when every second counts.
The other side of the coin happened a few weeks ago when I flew to an unfamiliar airport for some maintenance on my airplane. I did my preflight planning carefully and, by noting local landmarks, using DME distances and VOR bearings, all supplemented by a GPS distance, I found that during the descent, the airport magically appeared right ahead of me, just as I reached pattern altitude. I smiled, remembering some of my faux pas of yesteryear, and then looked around for some nearby landmarks to help me find the field during my next visit.
Probably the hardest thing for any pilot to handle is the departure from an airport that you haven't flown into. That is, you arrived at this location by some other means and now you have to instantly familiarize yourself with the area, the procedures, the layout, and all the airport details you'll need, prior to taxi. Once again, thorough preflight planning will relieve you of much of the natural anxiety over what's where and how to get from here to there.
You'll probably continue to consider unfamiliar airports "strange" throughout your entire aviation career. The keys to keeping those unknown factors to a minimum are threefold: 1) ask questions; 2) plan your trip carefully; and 3) confess when you're not sure or think you might be "temporarily disoriented" (aka lost).
Asking questions may sound like an easy enough solution, but you might be surprised by how many pilots don't, or won't, take the time to display what I choose to call their willingness to learn (as opposed to their lack of knowledge). I recommend you talk to other pilots, and be sure to ask them specific questions. Which runway did you use? What kind of traffic pattern did it have? Are there any landmarks that stand out like rivers, mountains, special terrain, or manmade features to help you find the airport sooner? How far out could you pick up the ATIS? Which FBO did you choose and why?
Listen carefully during hangar-flying sessions and ask questions about any items that may concern you, whether that's the local terrain or how to get an IFR clearance when the tower's closed. Most pilots are happy to share their inside information about an airport, since everyone was once in your position of being a newcomer to the airport. Hopefully, one day you'll find yourself passing it forward to someone who has the same need to know.
To get the most out of your knowledgeable source, outline your plans (and concerns), and ask for alternate suggestions, particularly if you're planning a long cross-country trip with a flexible itinerary. Maybe there's another airport nearby that would make a better en-route stop. Learning how the locals do it can relieve a lot of preflight stress and make your whole trip much more enjoyable.
When I'm faced with flying one of my airline's jets into a new airport, I do much the same thing as part of my preflight planning. While standing around our briefing room, I'll often toss out a general question like "Has anyone flow in to X Airport lately?" to see who responds and what suggestions they have to offer. I'll usually get at least one helpful reply with some good tips ranging from "gotchas" to "good deals." We also have the advantage that frequently one of our two-pilot crew has been to that airport before, making the exchange of information a natural part of good crew resource management. Jumpseat riders are often a good source of information (as passengers might be for you), providing us with not only a third set of eyes, but often the knowledge of a local pilot who's very familiar with the airport.
Some of the airports that my airline serves are considered "special" by the FAA because of their terrain, layout, or approaches. To help us become better acquainted with them, we have detailed color charts (actually high-quality aerial photos) to show us what the field looks like from several different vantage points, including a 10-mile final, as well as a short final view for each possible runway. After studying these photos we have a good idea of what to expect... and yet, we still spend a good deal of time reviewing specific procedures before approaching the field.
My second suggestion, planning your flight, may sound like old news to many of you. But that doesn't mean you don't have to do it, and do it vigilantly. It's easy to become complacent and fail to exploit all of the resources available to you. There's lot of help available, beginning with charts that come in a variety of flavors, including sectionals, terminal area charts, approach charts, and airport diagram charts. The online assist from AOPA in the form of taxi diagrams of specific airports is a great addition to safety and is designed to help you navigate safely on the airport surface as well as help you reduce runway incursions. Anyone can access airport taxi diagrams at AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/asf/taxi
After I've got a good idea of where the airport is in relation to major landmarks and how it's generally laid out, I'll check out more detailed airport guidebooks including AOPA's Airport Directory or Online Directory ( http://data.aopa2.org/airport/index.cfm), Flight Guide, and airport-specific Web sites. Some FBOs even publish airport hand-out charts, conveniently seven-hole-punched to fit into your airway manual, to show you where their facility is located.
One of my first concerns is to determine where the airport lies in relation to local navaids and VFR landmarks. Are there any other airports nearby that I might confuse with my destination? Then I start writing notes on my sectional or en-route chart. I mark where I should begin my descent to allow for a slow, shallow descent (which the airplane's engine and any passengers will greatly appreciate). I also mark when I should start listening for the ATIS or ASOS and when to tune in approach control (if I'm not already with them for flight following) or start listening to the unicom to get familiar with what's happening at my destination.
When I call for my weather briefing or use DUATS to download the information, I'm always looking for notams or other information available concerning my target airport. The last thing I want to learn on an approach to minimums is that the glideslope is out and has been for the past 10 months! This actually happened to me some years ago, going into New Orleans Moisant Field. Unfortunately, the notam that described that fact had been conveniently left off our airline's weather summary. Learning at the last moment that the approach was to be a non-precision one with multiple step-down fixes took more hand-eye coordination to change altimeter bugs and re-read charts for new minimums and procedures than I care to do on short notice.
A handy trick that many corporate pilots use to avoid last-minute surprises is a simple phone call. Telephone ahead to the FBO at your destination and ask them for the answers to your detailed questions. If you need to, ask to speak to a CFI or pilot who's familiar with the field and have him or her give you a phone briefing. Be sure to let them know of any special requests or needs you may have.
Basically, you'll need to be your own one-person flight department and do for yourself what many big companies hire several people to do - complete all the planning that's required to make the trip go smoothly. Many years ago I flew a Lockheed JetStar to Israel with the help of a company that specializes in corporate flight planning. They took care of suggested routings, flight plan filing, weather briefings, overflight and landing permits, hotel accommodations, parking and tiedown, fueling, customs, sightseeing, and innumerable other details.
When we inquired about flying into Haifa from Tel Aviv, we learned that it was better left to a smaller aircraft because of the short runway length. We ended up chartering a Navajo for the 40-minute trip, and I sat in the right seat. Talk about strange airports...the communications for the entire trip were conducted in Hebrew (as were the charts) and the only word I understood on the radio during the entire flight was the instruction to "back taxi" at the destination airport.
While not all visits to new airports are quite so exotic, attention to detail is still critical. One of the more important details when dealing with any new airport is to determine in advance where you will be parking, so you know which way to turn off the runway after landing. If I know I will be parking at the far end of the active runway, I may plan a long landing, advising the tower or unicom (as appropriate) to minimize the taxi distance. I always make an X on the airport diagram to designate my destination on the field and then keep that chart handy for easy reference after landing.
If there are several taxiways that will take me to take me to my parking area, I'll familiarize myself with their identifying letters so I can relate the tower's instructions to my prelanding review of the airport layout. I try to plan my landing so I can turn off at the taxiway that leads to where I'm headed. Or, if I need the extra runway length and pass it, I'll know there's going to be some backtracking to reach my tiedown spot.
If there's no tower and the route is circuitous, I may jot down notes about how to get where I'm going. A right onto Charlie, second left onto Delta, etc. Should there be a runway between me and my final destination on the field, I'll note the runway number and circle it in my notes to remind me to hold short and be sure I have clearance (or have looked carefully both ways at a nontowered field) before I cross it.
Sometimes, you'll come to an intersection that gives you a choice of several routes. If the controllers haven't specified, I try to take the one that keeps me away from other parked airplanes. If I'm not sure of where to go, I slow down (or even stop) and ask for help from ground control or unicom.
Finally, when asking questions and planning don't give you enough information use my third suggestion: Confess. When worst comes to worst (or if I'm tired and figure it's time to let the experts handle it), I'll stop and confess my ignorance by simply stating "unfamiliar, I'd like progressive taxi instructions" to wherever I'm going. It's particularly helpful after a busy approach, perhaps at night, in weather that may be lower than forecast, and I'm tired after a long day of flying.
On one occasion, before a 20-mile ferry flight from Houston's Intercontinental Airport to Hobby, I spent more time than the flight would be airborne just figuring out which taxiways to use once we landed. The route was incredibly complicated, crossed several runways, and made many sharp turns - a tricky maneuver for a 162-foot-long airplane. Even though I had carefully written down the routing, we still felt unsure about just which way to turn after clearing the runway, so I deferred to my old favorite "we're unfamiliar" and got progressives to our destination.
If you find yourself having to stop, be considerate and do it in a location that won't block someone else. Also, better to ask for help early than blunder forward. The advice is free for the asking, and you'll never find anyone giving a second thought to your query. Rather, you'll be voted the wisest pilot on the block for asking when in doubt, putting safety first. We can all recall aircraft incidents that could have been avoided had the pilot only asked.
Remember, an airport's just an airport, no matter its size or shape. For real insight, visit the tower and chat with the controllers. Ask them about the landmarks they use (and recommend for unfamiliar pilots) and watch as they direct traffic through the maze. Ask them your pet peeve questions ("Why do you send us via that taxiway?" or "Why can't I land on this runway?") and then offer them some of your thoughts on their airport's operations from a pilot's perspective.
Fortunately, no airport needs to be strange if you do your homework. As you expand your flying horizons you'll develop tricks to help you navigate to, from, and around unfamiliar airports. Detailed taxi charts are becoming more plentiful, and now you can review them online. Don't be intimidated by some place you've never flown into. Instead, do some thorough planning and ask questions when necessary to make your trip safe and enjoyable.
Karen Kahn is a captain for a major U.S. airline and author of the book Flight Guide for Success - Tips and Tactics for the Aspiring Airline Pilot. Type-rated in the MD-80, she's an FAA aviation safety counselor and CFI. Contact her at ( www.AviationCareerCounseling.com ).
Getting There On Instruments
I'm a great fan of not having to "look" for the airport, but there are a few traps that you need to be aware of, especially after some hard concentration on the gauges. When you switch to visual navigation, it's easy to pick out the wrong field, particularly if you let your attention wander and don't use your instruments as a backup. After an approach through the cloud deck to the bright city lights below, San Diego's Lindbergh Field is an easy target to confuse with North Island Naval Air Station. El Paso can be another tricky one. Many pilots used to joke about landing on Runway 22R. Fort Biggs, a nearby military field, has a nearly parallel runway that's easily mistaken for El Paso's when the visibility is poor.
The lesson here is don't accept a visual approach unless you have the airport (the correct one!) in sight. Don't let air traffic control push you into reporting "field in sight" after breaking out of the clouds unless you really do see it and are sure it's the correct field. Just continue tracking the ILS, radial, or bearing until you reach the appropriate decision point as it doesn't take any more time (you're gong that way, anyway) and it can save you much embarrassment. Yes, I speak from experience!
If you've filed IFR on a lovely clear day (or night) it can also be very tempting to tell the controller "yes" when he queries, "Do you have the airport in sight, two o'clock, 10 miles?" However, if you don't actually have the field in sight, don't try sound knowledgeable by saying yes when you really aren't sure. Also, if the field is on the right side of the airplane, be extra cautious about relinquishing this continued assistance by replying "affirmative." It's very easy to "discover" another airport, somewhere off the nose or slightly left, only to find you've identified the wrong field. The old "pick a field, any field," doesn't work very well and can easily lead you astray.
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