Flight Lesson: Fueling Confusion

Almost four decades ago on my solo cross-country as a student pilot, I almost ran the tanks dry.

I had accumulated 31.5 hours in rented Piper Warriors and Archers when my instructor signed me off for my long cross-country, from Salem to John Day, Oregon, and back. I flew over the Cascades, then on through Central Oregon and over the Ochoco Mountains in N1073H, an Archer II.

The tanks were always full upon departure in those rentals, and so having enough fuel did not cross my mind until I began my descent for John Day and noticed the fuel gauges were approaching half-full. Certainly my instructor would have briefed me on any potential issues, I thought. He was a seasoned CFI. All I knew about fueling was that after each training flight, the fuel truck was there to top off the tanks before we were even back in the FBO office.

As he signed my logbook, the John Day airport manager asked me if I needed fuel. I declined his offer.

I did not know what type of fuel the Piper used and did not want to appear stupid. What if there were six different grades of aviation fuel and I chose the wrong grade? What if my FBO didn’t allow fuel from other FBOs? And I had at least half the fuel remaining, with exactly the same distance to cover. It had not registered that the prevailing winds aloft were westerly, and I’d likely use more fuel on my return flight.

The good news was that the winds aloft were much lighter than average on that beautiful June day, because anything more than 10 knots on the second half of my 350-nautical-mile roundtrip would most likely have meant performing an emergency landing in the Cascade foothills or on the Santiam Highway.

I began to feel some anxiety after crossing the crest of the Cascades and noticing my fuel gauges were between one-quarter and empty. I had recently passed the knowledge test and remembered the concept of best economy. I referenced the pilot’s operating handbook and leaned the mixture appropriately.

I called Salem Tower 30 miles out and said, “I may be low on fuel.” Recognizing N1073H as one of the local student aircraft, the tower inquired if I was declaring an emergency. I declined. I contemplated, Do I need to declare an emergency?

No sooner had I stepped onto the ramp in Salem when the fuel truck arrived to top off the tanks. I’m sure I looked like I’d been weaned on a dill pickle as we estimated there were only two to three usable gallons remaining.

A 1970 song by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young was Teach Your Children. Although I accept full responsibility for my actions, I’d recommend flight instructors never take anything for granted with students. It’s easy to assume a pilot would fuel up under these circumstances; however, I’d still recommend you explain to all your students the school’s policy and procedures regarding purchasing fuel at other airports. Had my instructor simply told me “top it off in John Day, bring us the receipt, and we’ll reimburse you,” I never would have placed myself and potentially others at risk, not to mention a perfectly good aircraft. Instructors, please do teach your children well.