Under The Hood

The days are quickly getting shorter up here at 51° 05' North. In fact today the sun set 3:46 earlier than the previous day. What this means to the flightnewbie is that the days of flying the 7pm flight slot will soon be coming to an end. Officially you need to be on the ground (without a night rating or in my case operating on a student pilot permit) by the end of civil twilight. The flying club says you have to be back on the ground 30 minutes BEFORE the end of civil twilight, which is essentially (to make things easier) at sunset.

The sun is currently setting at about 820pm. This means if I managed to fire up the engine at precisely 7pm, I could get 1.4 hours of flight time - which is usually just enough for a short workout solo. Speaking about this with I5 (yes, him and I are going steady now in terms of student/instructor) he told me to just "show up" as early as 6pm and be ready to go. If the airplane is there I can just take it earlier. If we fly dual - then nothing to worry about since he is the PIC.

Meanwhile back at the ranch... I completely forgot about September traffic. This is when after 2+ months of lovely summer driving, all of a sudden every one is back on the road. No more people on vacation, kids back in school, school bus craziness, double transit bus, and yes - essentially absolute mayhem. I left my office at 5pm and didn't make the usual 40 minute drive to the airport (from downtown) until 630pm. Luckily I had a relaxing drive and spent some time visualizing the precautionary approaches I'd be flying, solo, in a new area 35nm to the north of the airport. Earlier in the morning when I had a chance to breathe at the office around 830am I realized that I had forgot to change the booking that night from a dual to a solo flight. After calling and changing to the solo flight I wondered if I was "shafting" I5. He was a pretty popular instructor so hopefully he'd pick up the booking.

After wandering into the club to check the sign out sheet (could not remember what aircraft I had, and to be honest I just check when I come in now since they swap so often) I noticed that the booking before me extended their time right up to mine. A quick look on the ramp, in the hangar, and a scan around the pattern confirmed my fear - no plane there for me. So much for leaving early - I'd be lucky if I fired up the engines by 720 leaving me with barely enough time to get a worthy flight in.

Just at that moment, I5 strolled in from another flight. He had not picked up another dual flight for that slot, and given that I could solo anytime, but due to the looking sunset it would be all rushed tonight - I decided to take advantage of the situation.

Me: "How about picking up the dual with me again tonight?"
I5: "Well, did you get your solo in yet? We can't do the diversions until you complete that"
Me: "I was thinking some instrument time, since it's hazy out, FFC is late, you are available, and the sun will set in 100 minutes".
I5: "Hmmm.. you still have 2.3 hours available instrument time in the sim"
Me: "If I want instrument time in the sim I can do it at home - I want to fly with the hood"
I5: "Sounds like a blast. Do you mind if I eat dinner first?"
Me: "We don't have any time restrictions since you are the PIC and I'm under the hood anyhow."
I5: "See you in 30 minutes".

I dashed back to my car, changed out of my fancy "corporate casual" and into my comfy shorts, light hiking boots, and a dry fit shirt (it was 29C here). Then I spent the remaining 15 minutes re-reading the instrument section in my training manual and reviewed my notes from our instrument brief back in June. After completing the airworthiness check, the weight and balance, and filling out the sign out sheet I was ready to rock just as I5 came back down.

He pulled out "The Hood" and asked me try it on. I realized for the first time that I actually had no clue what "The Hood" actually was. For some reason (who can explain these things) I had always envisioned "The Hood" being some sort of contraption that went from your shoulders over your head and then attached to the top of the panel. I always imagined it hard to breathe. I also imagined it being black as night.

You can imagine my shock when he pulled out this tiny "visor like" thing that angled down towards the ground. After trying it on I immediately did my best imitation of those guys on the Death Star from Star Wars IV: A New Hope (the 1977 version) who commenced the firing sequence when they destroy Alderaan - or whatever planet it was that they destroyed. After much laughter from everyone within earshot we set out for good old FFC.

I5 made the initial ground call and asked for a southbound departure to Longview at 6.5. The farthest south I had ever been aside from a 2nm final was Bragg Creek which is about 15nm SSW. The specialty take off of the day (every takeoff and landing is a specialty one now) was the short field obstacle. It was performed well from start to finish. It amazes me sometimes how something that seemed so complicated before now becomes second nature. I only hope that I continue to review all details in my mind so that I don't start cutting corners or forgetting things. Tower essentially cleared us en route and 6.5 in his takeoff clearance (man he was in a good mood) and before I knew it we were climbing through 6000 (2000AGL) on a 160 heading when I5 asked if I was ready. He took control while I adjusted the hood over my headset (my ball cap had to be dumped into the cargo area as they don't interact well with a hood).

Once I was set we chatted for a bit while he configured us for straight and level. I was then asked to stay level at 6500 on a heading of 160. It was obvious from this moment on that this flight was going to be intense. We stayed on that heading for what seemed like forever while I adjusted to the hood, worked on my T-Scan and tried to relax. I found that I was easily fixated on a specific instrument and was reluctant to check the instruments outside of the T, and even less reluctant to double check things like my switches, mixture, circuits, and engine.

My first valuable lesson of the day: You must use all the instrumentation available to you to confirm what is happening. Airspeed and Heading are a good indication of pitch and roll.

I did OK, I made adjustments when required and managed to stay +/-50ft and within 5-10 degrees most of the time. Then three new factors were introduced. First my eyes started to "blur" up a bit. I think I was forgetting to blink. Perhaps I was more tired than I thought I was. Second we started to encounter some bumps. Not anything that we would normally be concerned about but it was a few bumps and it seemed 1000 times worse under the hood. Third - I5 started to ask me to do more than just fly straight and level.

First it was a climb on this heading to 7500. Then it was a descent on this heading back to 6500. 7.5 degrees on the climb, just below the horizon on the descent. The climb was fairly simple but certainly not as easy as without the hood. In the descent the aircraft felt "heavy" and accelerated quickly when the nose was just a few degrees below the horizon.

Second valuable lesson of the day: You need to anticipate the yaw when transitioning between cruise and full/idle power.

Then we started turns. These were the most challenging for me. Starting my scan from the Turn Coordinator made it tough for me to keep the attitude in the right place. If I focused on the attitude I would have a shallow or steep turn. If I focused on the TC I'd put my nose up or down. If I looked at the airspeed I'd be all over the place. It was during the turns that I first started to experience the inner ear issues that everyone talks about. After making a 90 degree turn to the right, when rolling out of the turn my brain told me that I was transitioning from straight and level to a left bank. Bad Brain! Bad! Luckily it passed quickly. From here we moved into climbing/descending turns. It was still a lot of fun, but it was still extremely intense.

Third valuable lesson of the day: Trim reduces pilot workload - A LOT!

At this point I5 had me take off the hood and gave me a chance to look around. It was pretty sweet in the foothills down here.. honestly in the middle of nowhere. This is when the fun really started. I5 wanted to do a test. He asked me to set the "clock" in the plane (which he apparently doesn't really know how to use, but it is a standard chronometer) as a stopwatch. As instructed, once I had the aircraft straight and level (180 heading at 9000 feet) I started the clock and shut my eyes. The airplane "felt" as if it was flying straight and level. We had a few bumps and I just tried to stay loose on the controls. At some point I noticed that the engine sounded a bit different and felt as if I was tilted to the right. Then I wrote it off as my bad brain again and held the stick steady. The engine started to sound worse so I mad an adjustment to the left but that didn't feel right so I went back to the right. Then the engine sound was racing, so I figured I was headed down. I pulled back gently on the stick and immediately felt the G-Forces at work. I relaxed my grip and again banked left a bit but after it didn't feel right banked right again. The G-Forces were crushing me into my seat when I5 said "My control - now open your eyes". We were on a 090 heading at 6800 feet. In an 80 degree spiral dive doing 140 knots. Apparently I had done a 270 degree turn, lost 2200 feet, and twice started a recovery from the right bank I had been in only to go back to the right at a steeper angle. All this in 1:22 !!

Fourth valuable lesson of the day: Trust your instruments, not your brain.

It was starting to get dark out so we headed back. I flew under the hood the entire way back. I5 did all the radio work and called the headings, altitudes, and speeds for me. I just flew. There were a number of turns, altitudes, and speed calls and I knew we were now in the pattern. Finally the tower cleared us to land and I5 said "I have control, take off the hood". The sight before me was unbelievable. We were lined up perfectly on a short final, but it was dark and the runway lights were welcoming home. I5 asked if I wanted to land and I said "without the hood - yes!" and my wish was granted. The only specialty landing done here was that it was at night. Under the watchful eye of my instructor I greased my first night landing. I'll honestly say it was my best landing to date. No winds, right down the center line smooth as glass at a low speed with minimal float time. I'm fairly certain I had a huge cheeser on my face during the entire taxi back to the club.

Fifth valuable lesson of the day: Flying at night is cool, landing at night is unfreaking believable. Well, the real lesson is that getting a night rating would not only be cool, it would also be a nice thing to have in your back pocket in the event you got stuck in the air as the sun went down.

And there it was. My first "true" flight under instruments. Well - as true as it gets (or you want it to get) while working on your PPL. While I apparently did very well (I logged 1.0 instrument time), I will admit that it wasn't as good as I had hoped, or thought it would be. It was far more intense than I expected and the concentration and discipline required was far more than I ever expected. Of course I know that like everything else it will get a bit easier over time - provided I review the concepts again and practice for perfection.

Final valuable lesson of the day: Flying under instruments is a true skill. I have a lot more respect for everyone out there with their IFR tickets now.

In case you are wondering - I've completely lost track of the time I've logged in the aircraft. It's all listed in my Pilot Training Record (PTR) which "lives" at the club right now. I checked it out during my flying week extravaganza and based on "shady math" I believe I am currently sitting at:

Solo : 11.9
Dual : 32.2
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Total : 44.1 (1.7 dual instrument)

Whoever says that a license can actually be obtained in 40 hours is trying to sell you something.