"Attain the best rate of climb speed and at least 400 feet above ground level before reducing power"
These are excerpts from the Operating Instructions section of the owner's handbook for my airplane. It's a light twin built in 1964, so the handbook is in the head-scratching format and CliffsNotes length that was typical before the mid-1970s, when the General Aviation Manufacturers Association adopted the current, sensible standard for format and content of pilot's operating handbooks.
There is nothing unusual about the procedures detailed in the handbook for my airplane, unless you think them through. For example, the recommendation to attain 90 mph on the takeoff run before rotating is based on the potential for losing power in one engine. If an engine failed catastrophically in flight below 90 mph IAS, the pilot probably would not be able to maintain directional and roll control. To avoid that scenario, the manufacturer recommends that the airplane be kept on the runway until reaching 90 mph.
The problem with the POH takeoff procedure is that it is extremely difficult - potentially hazardous, in my opinion - to delay rotation until 90 mph. The airplane has a clean wing and a short landing gear. Approaching 80 mph IAS on the takeoff run the nosewheel begins to get impatient, and above that speed it skitters and complains mightily about being forced to continue rolling on the runway.
To attain 90 mph before rotating I would have to apply strong forward pressure on the yoke to force the nosewheel to stay planted on the runway even as the main landing gear tried to lift. That's not good technique.
Instead, our takeoff procedure is to accelerate to 80 mph indicated, rotate gently until the airplane is flying, then apply enough forward pressure to fly level or nearly so. It takes only a few seconds to accelerate past the magic 90 mph, and we continue accelerating to the best single-engine rate of climb speed before initiating the climb and retracting the gear.
This is an example of a procedure or situation that demands a little critical thinking to arrive at the best plan of action. Instead of dutifully following every procedure spelled out in the POH and the airplane checklists without so much as a second thought, take a moment to analyze the intent of the action - and the consequences. What am I really doing when I do this? Is it the best way to do it for the particular circumstances I am facing, or would a slight modification be more productive and possibly even safer?
Here's another example. The POH for my airplane says to "Attain the best rate of climb speed and at least 400 feet above ground level before reducing power." I certainly agree with achieving best rate of climb speed - altitude and airspeed are your best friends right after takeoff, because they will be absolutely indispensable in the event of a loss of power. It's the "400 feet above ground level before reducing power" that's causing me to squirm.
Why did the manufacturer choose 400 feet as the minimum altitude to reduce power? Is it because that figure is often cited as the lowest altitude at which you can experience an engine failure, execute a 180-degree turn, and have a slight chance of making the runway, but a chance nonetheless? Even then, you'd have to respond to the loss of power immediately and precisely, and that is asking a lot - too much, in my opinion, for it to be the basis of a standard procedure.
My technique is to give myself a 100-foot cushion over the POH recommendation by making my first power reduction at 500 feet. Such is the power of critical thinking, I told myself somewhat smugly. Then I flew with a multi-thousand-hour instructor who casually suggested that I delay the power reduction until 1,000 feet agl. "Look around at 500 feet, then look around again at 1,000 feet," he said. "You'll be amazed at how many more options you have when you're 1,000 feet above the ground than when you are half that high."
He was right, of course. He had been thinking even more critically.
The POH can't be super-specific about every procedure and technique that might be used on every flight. We are free to devise our own unique operating standards and apply them where needed. For example, on a retractable-gear airplane, when is the best time to lower the landing gear on a visual approach?
My airplane partner has taken to extending the gear miles from the airport. On our last flight together I asked him why so early. "To get slowed down," he said with conviction.
It was hard to argue the point. My partner had succeeded in achieving his goal of slowing down and configuring the airplane for landing with plenty of time to spare. But, in my estimation, by doing so he introduced an unnecessary element of risk. He had significantly reduced his options for safely handling a loss of power or some other critical emergency because we were droning along low and slow far from the runway.
He needed to re-evaluate the procedure. Think it through. Look at the intent, and the consequences. He did, and the process caused him to make some modifications to remove the low-and-slow vulnerability.
That kind of critical thinking leads to intelligent decision-making, and that's what safe flying is all about.
Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying for 35 years. He is co-owner of a Piper Twin Comanche and recently obtained his commercial multiengine rating.