Flying involves risks. While we train to become safe pilots who mitigate those risks, we can still end up in situations that scare us to the core—a mechanical issue that disrupts engine power, flying into weather conditions beyond our skill or comfort level, or learning about an accident or incident that hits too close to home. These situations can cause us to reconsider whether we truly want to fly. When this happens, we need to examine the root of our fear and seek additional training before deciding whether we can overcome that or want to walk away.
Intimidation can induce fear, preventing us from trying something new, possibly making us miss out on rewarding experiences and growth opportunities. Think about what aspect of aviation is intimidating you. Is it a type of operation like instrument flying, talking on the radio at a towered airport, a different aircraft you need to get checked out in, or unfamiliar airspace? I allowed intimidation of the Washington, D.C., Air Defense Identification Zone (now a special flight rules area) to keep me from flying in the metropolitan area for two years when I moved to central Maryland. As a VFR-only private pilot, I flew mostly in uncomplicated Class G and E airspace, so the thought of flying near high-security airspace with the possibility of being intercepted if I made a mistake frightened me.
Antidote: Training. Work with a flight instructor you trust. Explain what intimidates you and develop a strategy for him or her to help you overcome that fear. Your instructor can create an environment to help you feel safe and introduce training scenarios in a progressive building block format to ease your anxiety. With proper, frequent training, what seemed ominous will no longer be scary. You’ll be able to handle it with confidence. Once I started training in the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area, I became comfortable enough to fly around the airspace and then eventually transit the area.
We can get scared if there is something about the aircraft or aerodynamics that we don’t understand, or if we get ourselves into a situation that is over our skill level. The first time I performed a power-on stall as a student, the airplane entered an incipient spin before the instructor recovered. That shook me to the core. We spent extra ground sessions discussing aircraft stability and continued to work on stalls in the air until I could perform them safely and within standards for the checkride. However, stalls haunted me for years. One instructor during my instrument training laughed that I literally gulped every time he asked me to perform a stall under the hood.
Antidote: Study, build experience, set safe limits. Dive into the aspect of flying that scared you. Was it a lack of knowledge or misunderstanding of aerodynamics? Was it something mechanical about how the engine works? Read aviation books and articles about the topic, watch educational videos, take courses, talk to instructors and other experienced pilots and mechanics. Gain a thorough understanding. Then, fly with an instructor to build your skillset in that area, and slowly increase your exposure solo with simple scenarios before adding complexities. Set limits (weather conditions, wind, type of operation) and stick to them until additional training and experience allows you to expand those limits. (The AOPA Air Safety Institute provides free downloadable personal minimums contracts for setting safe limits.)
To overcome my fear of performing stalls, I continued to study more about aircraft aerodynamics, specifically stability. As I pursued more advanced certificates and ratings, I practiced them in the air and honed my technique for keeping the aircraft coordinated going into the stall. At first, I only practiced them with an instructor on board, but by the time I started training for my commercial pilot certificate, I felt confident enough (although not yet comfortable) to practice them on my own. It took time—years—before I could perform a stall without sweaty palms and a noticeably increased heart rate. It wasn’t until I completed a few lessons of aerobatic and spin training that I became comfortable with stalls. Learning how to enter and stop spins quickly removed my fear of a stall turning into a spin.
Sometimes, we are scared of the external risks involved with flying, like a catastrophic mechanical failure or getting trapped in deteriorating weather. Aviation safety continues to improve with technological advances that have made aircraft more reliable and provide better situational awareness, but engineers can’t remove all the risks inherent in flying.
Antidote: Mitigate risks. We can mitigate risks by choosing to fly aircraft with added safety features and setting personal minimums.
I have different personal minimums for the weather conditions in which I will fly based on the avionics in the aircraft. I am instrument rated but fly VFR-only taildraggers most of the time. When I fly a basic-VFR aircraft that isn’t equipped with an artificial horizon, directional gyro, avionics that provide near real-time weather information, and radios that allow me to monitor multiple frequencies for weather, I don’t leave the airport environment during marginal VFR conditions—even if those conditions are not forecast to worsen. I feel as though I would be flying blind, so to speak, without knowing what the weather ahead is doing.
However, I will fly a VFR taildragger outside the airport environment and on cross-countries over flat land when the aircraft is equipped with those safety-enhancing instruments and avionics. These features mitigate the risk by providing information that allows me to form an accurate weather picture along my route and ensure I always leave a safe way out if the conditions ahead deteriorate. The artificial horizon and directional gyro (electronic or vacuum driven) provide a stable backup if I have momentary difficulty discerning the horizon in three-mile visibility.
If we are in aviation long enough, we will experience the pain of losing someone we know in an aviation accident. This makes us pause and reflect on whether the rewards of flying truly outweigh the risks. We need to allow ourselves time to process the events and our emotions. The fear of something similar happening to ourselves will be a serious hurdle to deal with. I had to do some soul searching after my boss was killed in a midair collision during a soaring competition.
Antidote: Get back in the air. While we need to give ourselves time after losing someone we know in aviation, it is important to go flying again. Start by going up with another pilot friend or flight instructor, someone who can fly while you relax and stare out the window. This will allow you to see if flying still impacts you the way it did previously. I did this after my boss was killed in a midair collision. He was the first person I had ever known to be killed in an aircraft accident. To process the loss and risks of flying, I flew with my dad, the first person who introduced me to the love of aviation. Later, I flew with a trusted flight instructor before returning to flying myself. Some accidents are beyond our control, but regular training, safe flying practices, and strict personal minimums can help us prevent the ones that are.
When we feel intimidated, get scared by something that happens in the aircraft, worry about the risks associated with flying, or learn of someone we know being involved in an accident, we are faced with a decision to fight through the fears and stick with it or stop flying. Instead of walking away from aviation in fear, analyze those feelings, seek training, and learn how to mitigate risks. With proper training, experience, and safe personal minimums, we can safely overcome those fears to continue enjoying the rewards of flying.