Probably the most common reason people get into aviation is some form of the we'll-take-trips-on-the-weekend concept. So, the most logical move up from the two-seat training plane is into a four-place bird, the Cessna 152 to Cessna 172 transition being the most common.
Some folks, however, aren't thinking cross-country, but are instead attracted to sport aircraft - including maneuverable aerobatic planes, sleek kit-built aircraft that can outperform many (or even most) similar production models, or basic "low and slow" aircraft best suited to enjoying flight itself. When surveying this arena, most new pilots immediately discover two things: First, there is a dizzying array of choices from older vintage models to homebuilts, ultralights, and warbirds. Second, many sport aircraft are tailwheel designs, causing many sport aviators to seek additional training in a smaller taildragger.
In case you haven't figured it out from what we've said so far, even though the aviation ladder has a bottom rung, it has no top rung and stretches on indefinitely. You never reach a point at which there isn't some other bigger, better, more interesting, funkier, more-challenging airplane to tackle. In fact, some people become incurable "type-hunters" drawn by the irresistible lure of new airplanes to be flown (the author is coming up on 300 types and is small potatoes as type-hunters go).
When moving up the airplane ladder, it's important to realize that aviation progress of any kind is almost always based on a combination of training and experience. When transitioning into new aircraft, the big questions for us include how much experience is needed - and how much can training make up for the lack of experience?
Training can only compensate to a certain degree. However, don't let anyone kid you: Anyone, at any level of experience, can be taught to fly any airplane given the right amount and type of training. Look at World War II flight training: By the time a pilot had 100 hours, he was already flying a 600-horsepower taildragger. At 200 hours he was piloting 1,500- to 2,000-hp fighters on combat missions.
The question of training versus experience can best be answered by saying that training makes the difference, but it is experience which makes that training stick. Only by applying training in real-world situations will the pilot learn to fall back upon the most recent training in a crisis. It requires a little time for new experience to update the old.
We generally bat the word experience around as if we all agree upon what it means, but there's always the possibility that we don't. So let's investigate experience and what it should mean in an aviation context, especially when moving up into different airplanes.
It's common for us to look at the number of filled pages in a logbook and equate that with experience. Yes, hours count, but they are far down on the priority list when it comes to judging a pilot's experience and how that prepares him for new aircraft and situations. The problem with using hours flown as the yardstick when judging experience is that there are hours and then there are hours. Five hundred hours spent droning around in a Cessna 152 with most landings made at the same few airports are not the same as 500 hours in five different kinds of airplanes with a comparable number of landings made at a wide variety of airports, ranging from stubby sod strips to two-mile-long hard-surfaced runways. Implicit in the word experience is that you experience something new every time you fly. Circumnavigating the local area, always landing at familiar airports, doesn't get you out of your comfort zone, so the hours logged can be short on skill-building experience.
When you're a new pilot, there's no way you can have either the hours or the experience of someone who has been at it longer. That doesn't mean, however, that when you look up the ladder at the next airplane in line, you should assume that you can't make that climb until you've paid your dues. A thin logbook should be viewed as a beginning - a clean sheet of paper that begs you to design your flying career in such a way that you get the most out of the hours you do fly.
When it comes to seeking new experiences and preparing for the move upward, there's something every new pilot should remember: When you were given that newly minted private pilot certificate, you knew how to fly or the FAA wouldn't have given you that piece of paper. However, you are so short of real-world experience that many challenges may cause you to hesitate out of fear that you can't meet those challenges. So be it - a little common-sense apprehension will keep you safe while you're climbing out of the nest. However, if you don't challenge yourself, you're never going to move on. Challenge is the very essence of experience. So, how do you get out there to do things that you feel you're not quite ready for (short runways, nasty winds, questionable weather, etc.) which will also make you more prepared to transition upward into new aircraft?
The answer's simple - take your instructor. Just because you have your certificate doesn't mean you can't hire an instructor now and then to ride along when you're flying into a situation that is approaching the edge of your personal envelope.
When planning which airplane to tackle next, there are a number of factors that make one airplane different from another and should be considered. Most of these are obvious, some are not. The FAA recognized the procedure and systems limitations when it developed the complex and high-performance categories. These, however, don't necessarily cover all the differences and sometimes categorize factors in such a way that they can be misleading. For instance, a Pitts S-2A Special requires only a tailwheel endorsement, but even though its performance is outstanding by any measure, it is neither a high-performance nor complex airplane according to FAA definitions because it has no flaps and is 200 hp or less. Also, the FAA doesn't, and can't, address such dramatic differences between aircraft utilizing the same engine. A Cessna 152 and an American AA-1A Yankee, for instance, both use the 108/115-hp Lycoming O-235 engine, and are both tricycle-gear airplanes with flaps. Those are the only similarities, however, because the wing loading and control responses are very different. The Cessna is leisurely and forgiving, while the AA-1A is more sporty in handling and feel.
As a rule, when making your first move up the airplane ladder, it's wise to upgrade gradually. Don't, for instance, go from a Cessna 152 to a Beech Bonanza. Although similar leaps have been made successfully many times, they demand more extensive training.
If you want to make life easy for yourself, make your initial moves up within aircraft make and type - e.g., Cessna to Cessna, Piper to Piper, etc. The reasoning is that different airplane manufacturers have differing design philosophies that reflect in how their products handle. In some cases, as with the Yankee AA-1A, for instance, the differences are pronounced enough to potentially cause trouble. In others, like Cessna and Piper, the differences aren't huge, but they are definitely worth considering. Cessnas, for instance, all share the same highly effective flap system, are lightly wing-loaded, and have the wing mounted on top. What you wind up with is an airplane that flies its final approach at about 65 to 70 knots, and may be sensitive to turbulence because it is so light.
Piper low-wingers, on the other hand, come down final a little faster, have flaps that aren't nearly as effective as a Cessna's, and are somewhat more resistant to turbulence.
The high-wing/low-wing issue, by the way, is of little consequence other than being aware of different blind spots inherent in the designs. From that point on, it's a matter of personal preference.
Another factor that makes it easier to transition within the same aircraft make is that although the aircraft industry has always been lousy at standardizing cockpits from manufacturer to manufacturer, at least manufacturers standardize within their own product line. So, if you're moving up the Cessna ladder, the trim, flaps, and other controls will always be in about the same place and will function the same way. The same thing is true within the Piper line.
Inevitably, the biggest change when moving up from the Cessna 152 is that the next airplane up can't help but be bigger, assuming that you stay within normal general aviation aircraft. In the Piper line the size increase isn't a factor. Cherokees, Warriors, Archers, etc., are essentially modifications of the same airframe, so they are about the same size and weight. For Cessnas, it is the increased size represented by the 172 and the accompanying weight and speed increases that present the biggest initial challenges. You'll see this again moving from a 172 to a 182. However, the personality of either airplane compared to a 152's is so similar, it just takes a little training to become comfortable.
The transition from any two-place trainer to a four-place airplane isn't complete until you've actually flown the new airplane at maximum gross weight. Two-place trainers don't see the performance degradation associated with higher weights because they are limited in how much load can actually be put in the airplane. The four-place airplane not only can accommodate much more weight, but it can have center of gravity (CG) displacements that significantly change the control feel of the airplane. Until you've flown the airplane at an aft CG, you won't know how this changes control pressures and inputs Also, until you've performed a few takeoffs and landings at higher weights, you won't have a complete understanding of how performance can degrade. This is important because the difference between something like a Cessna 172 with only two people and half-full tanks and the same airplane at full gross is considerable. This is especially true if the runway is short, the elevation is high, or the temperature well above standard.
The training at higher gross weights is also valuable because the primary reason you are moving up to a four-place airplane in the first place is that you want to take trips with friends or family.
When you're moving into a new airplane, especially a complex one with more horsepower and systems such as a constant-speed propeller, retractable landing gear, etc., you may mistakenly assume that the most important factors to learn are the procedures required to manage the systems. Not necessarily so. Knowing which widget to push or pull at the appropriate time is important, but there are other, more subtle differences that are equally important: Airplanes with higher performance also have higher wing loadings, resulting in higher stall speeds and higher approach speeds, and they are less forgiving if you do let airspeed get too low.
For that reason, when moving up to a heavier, faster airplane, some time should be spent getting to know how the airplane performs at the lower end of its envelope. Does it suddenly build up a rapid rate of descent when the speed gets 5 kt too slow? Can that rate of descent be immediately corrected by moderate power or angle-of-attack changes, or does it take a lot of work? Is it stable on approach? What is the effect of dropping the gear and the flaps? What is the best technique for making short- or soft-field landings?
The check pilot you're working with should be someone who knows the airplane and is capable of instructing in it. The FAA doesn't require you to get your checkout from a CFI, assuming the new bird doesn't need a logbook endorsement-but, even if it did, you'd want to find a CFI who has intimate knowledge of the airplane. You absolutely do not want to get your checkout from one of the local guys who says, "...yeah, I've flown the airplane a few times, let's get in and go." In that situation, you either get short-changed on understanding the airplane or the check pilot is learning the airplane the same time you are. Not good. Make up your mind that you are going to learn more about the airplane than simply how to get it on and off the runway. Getting to know a new airplane is one of the great joys of flying and one that never loses its appeal. So, set your sights on the new bird, find the right checkout pilot, and go for it. Just do it with a plan in mind and make a friend of the airplane, not a passing acquaintance.
Budd Davisson is an aviation writer/photographer and magazine editor who has written approximately 2,200 articles and has flown some 300 different types of aircraft. A CFI for 36 years, he teaches about 30 hours a month in his Pitts S-2A Special.
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