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.
Most of my checkout once airborne was more about me getting a feel of how the Arrow stalls, turns – all the usual primary stuff. However, we did cover various emergencies related to the gear. All went well. In fact, by the time we headed back from the practice area, I was feeling a lot more confident in my airmanship – until I had to land that is.