Proficiency: The pursuit of proficiency

I would return to the right seat of a Cessna 172 after 4,000 hours driving Cessna 185s and Cessna 206s from the left seat in the Amazon jungle and Andes Mountains—followed by more than a decade of occasional GA flying in the United States.

Our average jungle strip was 1,500 feet long. Thirty percent were one way, regardless of wind. Ten percent required an abort decision before touching the ground and 70 percent wouldn’t allow gross weight takeoffs.

These runway surfaces changed daily, sometimes hourly. Dry dirt was rough, but rain morphed the same dirt into a sticky morass or slick mud, depending upon that strip’s composition. Dry grass shortened landing rolls but increased takeoff rolls. Wet grass became ice-slick for landing but clung even harder for takeoff.

Our VFR and (legal) IFR, pre-GPS navigation relied on dead reckoning beyond 30 DME from the sole VOR. Away from the mountains, all treetops looked alike over hundreds of square miles, but learning to identify rivers by color enhanced situational awareness.

Before jungle flying, I operated an FBO and taught a lot of people to fly. I flew Part 135 SEL and MEL air taxi, and air attack for the U.S. Forest Service. So, I felt my confidence was reasonable.

That assumption proved incorrect.

I busted the checkride. And I couldn’t disagree with the examiner. My lazy eights were well below standards. Did it matter that I hadn’t done any for a couple of decades? The director of training I reported to said, “Practice, then retake what you missed.” In doing that, I learned five principles for pursuing proficiency.

1. Currency feeds proficiency

The memory of doing something well is not the same thing as doing it well now. The famous violinist, Jascha Heifetz, said, “If I don’t practice for a day, I know it. If I don’t practice for two days, the critics know it. And if I don’t practice for three days, the public knows it.”

Despite scientific roots, piloting remains part art. We train our hand-eye coordination to flare for landing or intercept a localizer. But without periodic reinforcement, kinesthetic skill fades and only visual memory remains. If I took a weeklong vacation from jungle flying, I needed a full day to regain my edge.

To pursue proficiency:

• Fly often. Frequent short flights reinforce habits more than occasional long flights.
• Schedule monthly practice sessions without passengers.

Make every operation count. For example, call out where your wheels will leave the ground on takeoff; call out which stripe your main gear will straddle when you touch down; hold all headings within plus or minus 5 degrees, then 2 degrees and altitudes within plus or minus 100 feet, then plus or minus 50 feet, then plus 50 feet and minus 0 feet; hold ILS and LPV needle deviations to plus or minus one dot, then plus or minus half a dot; calculate fuel burn for your next cross country, compare your estimate with the actual fuel burn, and debrief about reasons for the discrepancy; use the FAA’s Airman Certification Standards as your minimum limits.

2. Each flight niche develops some skills and ignores others

All flying genres share common skills, but every facet of aeronautical activity also demands unique expertise. For example:

Military: These pilots practice things such as ground attack, formation flight, dogfighting, paratroop drops, aerial refueling, carrier landings, and quick-turn cargo runs.

Airline: Part 121 pilots strive for safety, dependable schedules, comfort, and economy. They practice gentle maneuvers, pick smooth altitudes, hunt for tailwinds, manage crews, juggle fuel efficiency with arrival times, and drill emergency procedures.

Flight instruction: When I taught people to fly, I developed skills for landing and turns about a point. I could fly most instrument approaches (in simple aircraft) using only rudder, elevator trim, and throttle while verbally highlighting each point as I did it.

Part 135 SEL and MEL air taxi: I learned to give complete passenger briefings; make smooth, shallow turns; follow precise IFR procedures; and to send the message—verbal and nonverbal—that “Everything is under control. This is normal.”

We train our hand-eye coordination to flare for landing or intercept a localizer. But without periodic reinforcement, kinesthetic skill fades and only visual memory remains.Air Attack for the U.S. Forest Service: I learned to move from the ready room to wheels in the well in 5 minutes or less—safely. I learned to manage power settings and speeds for four distinct operations: quickest time to the fire, normal cruise, patrol patterns, and maximum endurance on site. Discerning the difference between cloud and smoke became an important skill.

Jungle flying: I learned how to determine an airstrip’s length, altitude, slope, surface, and obstructions from the air and then if I decided to land, place the aircraft’s main tires exactly where I wanted them.

To pursue proficiency: Try maneuvers and operations not part of your normal routine, such as flying a cross-country using dead reckoning navigation only; file and fly IFR even in VFR conditions; practice commercial performance maneuvers such as steep turns, chandelles, and lazy eights; practice 90-degree, 180-degree, and 360-degree power-off landings; determine power settings, airspeeds, and flap positions for level flight, and 500 fpm descents at your aircraft’s instrument approach airspeed; while holding a given heading, altitude, and white-arc airspeed, transition from no flaps to full flaps, then back to no flaps; with a safety pilot or CFII, practice partial panel maneuvers.

3. Practicing the wrong way slows progress

The busted checkride not only embarrassed me; it fueled my resolve. “I’m a professional,” I thought. “This is not supposed to happen. I will fix it.” Good intentions, but after some practice sessions yielded little improvement, I asked for help. A CFI from another department revealed a different perspective. I’d been practicing—and reinforcing—bad habits. He helped me replace them with good technique.

To pursue proficiency, fly with an instructor at least every year between flight reviews, then apply his or her suggestions to your normal flying; look for new perspectives on your procedures, habits, and skills; read and apply appropriate sections of a proven flight training manual (the FAA offers The Airplane Flying Handbook , FAA-H-8083-3B for free download). Discuss your insights with a CFI/II.

4. Learn the box’s language

While preparing for the instrument portion of my reinstatement, I met a new (to me) avionics box. It displayed graphics of an entire flight’s course and told me groundspeed, headings, tracks, distances, and when to start and stop turns. And, it knew the approaches to every airport. My new friend took all the work out of instrument flying.

But during a practice session, while starting the missed approach for the Runway 28R ILS at Boise, Idaho, ATC granted my request for the GPS-B (also westerly bound) approach to Nampa, Idaho. That required an immediate left turn for the very short leg to the new initial approach fix. Surprise! I didn’t know that I didn’t know how to leave the missed procedure for one approach and jump to a completely different approach. My fumbling fingers yielded a jumbled display as I flew past the fix. The debrief revealed I was not fluent in that box’s language. So, I downloaded a simulator app to my iPad, then practiced every approach in the area until communicating with the box became second nature.

To pursue proficiency, study—then apply—each section of your avionics manual; download a simulator app for your unit(s), then practice navigation, holding, and approaches (including the missed approach procedures); fly the same scenarios in the aircraft with a safety pilot; and investigate every button, menu, and option.

5. A good pilot is always learning

Piloting an aircraft demands mastery of unique, three-dimensional skills that blend art and science. We can’t afford to treat it like driving a car. There is always something new to learn and, inevitably, an old lesson to recapture. As early British aviator Capt. A.G. Lamplugh said, “Aviation in itself is not inherently dangerous. But to an even greater degree than the sea, it is terribly unforgiving of any carelessness, incapacity or neglect.”

James Rush Manley is a freelance writer and pilot based in Meridian, Idaho, with more than 7,000 hours.