When it comes to reading lists for pilots, you typically see the same half-dozen classical books on them. Yet there can be plenty of wisdom for pilots found in some non-traditional aviation texts as well. Here are five books all pilots should read that have absolutely nothing to do with flying.
The AOPA Air Safety Institute (ASI) recently released their 35th annual accident report. And the good news is that GA has never been safer. However, even though most of the press coverage has been mainly focused on the report’s positive high-level trends, the devil is as they say, in the details.
The economics of flying is not for the faint of heart. In fact, the average cost of just getting your “license to learn” is now hovering around the $20,000 mark. And if that number doesn’t faze you, then let me sprinkle in some rampant inflation, a tight insurance market, and just the high opportunity cost of staying current—let alone proficient—into the mix.
If there is one aspect of general aviation I’ve learned over my relatively short stint aloft, it’s that the safety of any flight is not just dependent solely on the decisions I make, but also on the ones others have made for me—without my knowledge or even consent. In fact, all of general aviation relies on an implicit chain of trust that, when broken, can and does result in dire consequences.
My family was invited to Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst (KWRI) for family day to get a preview of their annual Power in the Pine Airshow. Unbeknownst to us, Doc was on the ramp and they were prepping for the show. We walked over and the Doc team immediately asked my son, “Do you want a tour of the inside?” My 8-year old son enthusiastically exclaimed “Yes!”
This was at the recent Power in the Pines 2025 Airshow where JB McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst opens its doors to the public for free (yes, tax dollars at work) and hosts a spectacular airshow. This year the headlining act were none other than the USAF Thunderbirds!
Imagine flying out on a perfect CAVOK day to bathe in all that heavenly glory. Now imagine a few weeks later receiving a bill in the mail for a “landing” fee from an airport you, well, never landed at. Welcome to PLANEPASS!
ForeFlight is still considered the EFB standard with a very loyal user base—it’s their market share to lose. However, I also don’t think their future is entirely CAVOK either: In the 25-plus years I’ve been in the software business, I have never met a private equity deal I liked. Mainly because private equity’s primary (only?) focus is maximizing ROI, usually at the expense of innovation, while with traditional corporate ownership it tends to be the other way around.
Your EFB is only as good as the data it uses. Consequently, it’s absolutely imperative that before you jump into the cockpit with your trusty mount, fully set up your EFB. And that’s more than just waiting for it to automatically download the latest weather and charts.
I get that we all speculate in private on crashes since we have a natural tendency to try to understand tragedy after it unfolds. But when we speak publicly on social media or even to our friends and family at home, we become ambassadors for aviation. And as ambassadors, I firmly believe we need to steer these conversations toward supporting our fellow pilots who were involved in the incident as well as understanding how we can prevent it from happening again. And any online content that goes against these tenets should be strictly avoided or even better, unsubscribed.
Checklist usage shouldn’t feel like a chore, nor should it feel mandatory (and from a regulatory standpoint, it isn’t), but rather an act of habit. And the quality of checklists you use is directly responsible for how often you use them! Because once checklist usage feels natural instead of premediated, you don’t have to think about it anymore.
Do you really need a YouTube expert to remind you of the dangers of flying into known icing conditions? How about thunderstorms? Flying at night over mountainous terrain in hard IMC? Yeah, I didn’t think so. In fact, if you read the comments section of a lot of these videos (please don’t read the comments section), you’ll find that there are more non-pilots than real ones. They either found the video out of morbid curiosity, or they just got lost (hey, it happens).
Like many of you, my debrief has evolved over my flying career. Now, what I like to do is organize my thoughts into, “The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly,” or more formally, what I did well, what I thought I could do better, and what I might have done differently. And not necessarily in that order depending on how the flight went.
What’s not obvious to a lot of non-pilot folk is that flying is one of the few passions you absolutely must do regularly just to safely do it. Think about that for a second: unlike other modes of transportation, you can stop driving for several months, even years, and still be able to get back into a vehicle with little to no training. Flying isn’t like that.
Monitoring your engine gauges is sort of a systems-level skill which is part of every primary curriculum. But most of the focus is on takeoff; hopefully, you’ve been taught to stare at the gauges when you line up on the runway in case you must abort because one of them doesn’t look right. Yet just because your engine is acting normally on takeoff doesn’t guarantee it will in flight, right?
Flying the family to Niagara Falls to see the total solar eclipse. My fondest memory is my 7-year old son shouting, “That’s amazing! Oh my gosh! How are we doing this?”
And what altitude did I fly the entire coast of Connecticut? That’s right, 1,500 feet. It gets better. Because for whatever reason, New York Approach wouldn’t negotiate with Bridgeport’s Tower (KBDR) for the transition, I was asked to avoid KBDR’s Class Delta airspace altogether. And I did. At, you guessed it, 1,500 feet. Over the water. Go me.
When I first started my primary training, my CFI was mainly focused on developing my “P-Skills”–learning to actually fly the airplane. But once I got the physical act of flying down, my training slowly transitioned into developing my “C” ones. These skills included recognizing and dealing with emergencies, how to communicate on the radio effectively, and probably the most important one of all, how to see and avoid.
How can an average GA pilot like me who flies around a hundred hours a year stay proficient? The answer is quite simple (well, maybe): I incorporate some aspect of IFR flying into every single flight. Every single one. That means hand flying to within or better ACS standards.
I loaded up the last leg of my trip into the sim and then proceeded to not only fly that leg but decided to survey the entire area, virtually, to familiarize myself with both the terrain and any notable landmarks as well.