Preflight: Romance the Night

Like most kids, I was occasionally afraid of the dark. When I was 8, one of my chores was to throw away the family's food scraps in a compost pile set back behind the house next to a seedy old shed that I thought no one had entered in years. Once after dinner as I walked out in the dark expanse of our backyard I got scared, threw the scraps, and ran inside. My subsequent grounding, although well intentioned, did nothing to ease my concerns about creepy guys with chainsaws waiting in the shed.

More than 20 years later I got that feeling again, except this time my fears were turbulence, hard rain, potential icing, and terrain on a flight to San Jose, California, last October. A passenger and I had left Van Nuys Airport near Los Angeles a few hours earlier, and the flight had been painfully slow. We had a 30-knot headwind the entire trip, making our short flight in the Piper Archer considerably longer. I had filed an instrument flight plan anticipating some weather, and true to the forecast, we entered the clouds about halfway into the flight.

Closer to San Jose, what had been light rain turned moderate with some small areas of heavy, according to our datalink cockpit weather display. The controller skillfully vectored us around the worst stuff, none of which was convective. But the rain, turbulence, and fatigue from battling headwinds all combined with the darkness to make what would have been an otherwise standard instrument flight very challenging.

I was on edge and wished I could get on the ground, just like that split second years ago when I got scared and threw the cornhusks and banana peels to get back to the safety of the house. Thankfully this wasn't my first challenging instrument flight and I've learned that just as part of growing up is facing difficult situations and overcoming them, growing as a pilot means being exposed to more challenging flights and facing them head on.

In retrospect, there was little danger in flying in the weather that night, even though I felt much less at ease than I would have under the same conditions during the day. The darkness, along with my edginess about the trip, caused me to give the airplane a pat on the nose as a thank you once we got on the ground. The flight was a poignant reminder of how night flying is so starkly different than the same trips during the day. Fatigue sets in more easily, the instruments are often harder to see, and I think vertigo can occur sooner. But most of all, it's the things you can't see that make you nervous, like the inside of the shed in my backyard, and the mountains and weather that Al Marsh writes about in "The Cover of Darkness,". Marsh relates his own experience regaining night currency, and the many decisions and risk factors that go into it.

My flight to San Jose turned out to be a success, partially because I was very proficient at night flying at the time. It gave me confidence to handle a similar situation in the future, and filled my experience bucket with weather, busy airspace (they changed runways as we were about to fly the approach), and taking care of my passengers during such conditions. But not every night flight has to be difficult to be a success.

Probably my favorite night flight was as a passenger soon after becoming a private pilot. I was working at the Gainesville, Florida, FBO, and a based customer owned a beautiful Cessna 170. I had practically begged him to take me flying, and one night we found the perfect opportunity and flew to nearby Ocala for an AOPA Air Safety Foundation seminar. I don't remember a thing about the flight down, but the flight back was one of those times when you feel lucky to be a pilot.

We took off from Ocala an hour or so after sunset and headed north toward Gainesville, a short 30-minute flight. It was dead calm, and with nothing but a swamp between Ocala and Gainesville there were no city lights to obstruct the stars. We chatted for a few minutes and then silence set in. The owner said something about not liking to talk during night flights, a practice I've encouraged of my passengers ever since--although my many night flights have taught me that passengers aren't very talkative at night either. I don't know if it's that the radio is often silent, which encourages those on board to do the same, or if everyone is taken by the same things I am the serenity, beauty, and magic of flying at night.

And despite what some may tell you, night flying can be safe with the right precautions. Since we don't do as much of it, proficiency is an issue. Do as Marsh did and get some real-world experience before taking passengers. It's great to do the required three takeoffs and landings, but those are a minimum. Do a short solo cross-country to make sure you stay sharp. It will increase your proficiency and confidence, two things that help you meet new challenges head on. But most of all, have fun and enjoy the experience. Novels have been written about topics far less romantic.

E-mail Ian J. Twombly, deputy editor of AOPA Flight Training, at [email protected].