Smoothness and situational awareness are key
In the most basic sense, learning to drive means learning the mechanical aspects of achieving acceleration, braking, and cornering. Yes, there are many nuances that make driving much more complicated, but all we really do to make the car go where we want is accelerate, turn left and right, and brake.
Learning to fly also means learning how to speed up and slow down, and how to turn left and right. But it's not the simple matter of stepping on the gas, pushing on the brake pedal, and turning the steering wheel that it is on the road. Turning an airplane is accomplished by simultaneously manipulating two controls, aileron and rudder, to coordinate roll and yaw. To the novice, that does not seem a particularly easy skill to master.
Same with accelerating/decelerating. On the ground, airplanes are like cars, although clumsier. We go faster on the runway by pushing in the throttle, or come to a stop by depressing the brake pedals, but accelerating and slowing get a lot more complicated in the air. Once off the ground you have to contend with pitch, even as you lose your wheel brakes.
The ability to climb and descend adds significantly to the challenge of learning to fly, especially compared with driving a car. Now instead of controlling the vehicle's movements in two dimensions, we have to operate in a third.
Some aspects of driving are more difficult and certainly more hazardous than flying. Whether it is crossing the centerline into oncoming traffic or running off the right side of the road into trees or a ditch, when driving we are never more than a couple of seconds from disaster. The fact is, on the road we must always concentrate on following a very narrow course between the lines with traffic on all sides.
Few runways are as narrow as even the widest road, airways are miles wide, and except in the vicinity of airports we seldom even see another aircraft. Just about the only time we're in real danger in an airplane is when we're about to make unintended contact with the ground in an undesirable manner, euphemistically speaking.
Despite the immediacy of the danger when driving and the need for constant, if subconscious, concentration, cars do not routinely careen off the road or smash into each other. That's remarkable considering the countless unskilled, hostile, clueless, and uncaring drivers on the road. It tells me that those who are left-those who care about driving skill, safety, and courtesy-are great candidates for learning to fly. But that's another story. Flying, of course, has its tense moments. Wind in its many forms-crosswinds, turbulence, microbursts, wake vortices-is far more of a risk factor for pilots than for drivers. Similarly, clouds, fog, thick haze, and other weather phenomena that obscure visibility can only be negotiated safely by pilots who are appropriately trained, rated, equipped, and proficient. Those who aren't and find themselves in such weather are in genuine peril. A motorist who encounters thick fog can slow down or stop at a coffee shop or motel until conditions improve.
So what does all of this have to do with teaching my son to "fly" a car, and just what does that mean, anyhow?
It means that I want him to be more than a licensed driver when he takes the wheel; I want him to pilot the car. Simply put, he should be trained and perform to a higher standard, one exemplified by flying.
Flight training has a dual emphasis on head and hands-acquiring academic knowledge and attaining an acceptable level of performance in the cockpit. Eye-hand coordination is important but, essentially, flying is a thinking person's game. It takes considerable planning, discipline, and attention to detail to fly safely and well.
A good grasp of the inner workings of the flying machine is important to a pilot who is interested in extracting maximum performance, efficiency, and reliability from the airplane-and a virtual requirement of an aircraft owner. So should it be with a proficient driver.
Pilots are steeped in safe operating practices and trained to respond effectively to emergencies. We may not have written checklists for cars, but we should commit to memory certain emergency procedures-how to handle a front-tire blowout at highway speeds, for example.
I'm confident my son will quickly learn how to drive a car well. Learning how to pilot it, however, will require him to recognize and attain two fundamental skills that truly distinguish good pilots: maintaining situational awareness, and being smooth on the controls.
Situational awareness-being alert to your surroundings-is fundamental to achieving maximum safety in the cockpit. Maintaining situational awareness involves using all of our senses. For example, while taxiing out to Runway 5, you catch a glimpse of another aircraft taxiing southeast. It doesn't set off any alarms in your head because it's a busy airport, but it registers nonetheless.
You're number two in the run-up area, and as you work through the pretakeoff checks you overhear a pilot on the frequency requesting takeoff clearance on Runway 5. But something tells you all is not right. You glance away from the checklist to peer at the N-number on the fuselage of the airplane ahead of you and, sure enough, it doesn't match the one you just heard. Just as you are about to alert the tower to the discrepancy, the controller angrily barks over the frequency to the pilot who is lifting off from Runway 31.
That pilot was completely confused about the runway layout. He had to have ignored any number of clues that should have alerted him that he was on the wrong runway-clues that you, on the other hand, detected almost subconsciously.
Think that's a far-fetched example? It happened recently at my home airport.
Closely related to possessing situational awareness is being smooth on the controls. Smoothness is a sign of a highly skilled, considerate pilot. It speaks to the pilot's ability to anticipate and act on events with calm precision, rather than react with ham-fisted haste. Smoothness also says a lot about the pilot's depth of knowledge and experience. The smooth pilot has an obvious understanding of exactly how the airplane will respond to a deft, expert touch on the controls.
The not-insignificant reward for the pilot who places high value on being smooth is winning the confidence of passengers. It's a big moment the first time a pilot perceives that people confidently place their well being in his or her care.
When J.T. completes his year of driving on a learner's permit and is signed off for solo, I'd like him to quickly come to that same realization. That's when I'll know he's thinking more like a pilot than a driver.
Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying for more than 35 years. He is a commercial pilot with instrument and multiengine ratings and co-owner of a Piper Twin Comanche.
Related Articles
