A Checklist Conundrum

I'm saying it right here and now, and the OEMs might not like it. The standard OEM checklist in most light general aviation aircraft is a longwinded action-dulling repetitive piece of detritus. It is also often the only FAA-approved checklist for the aircraft. 

These unwieldy booklets and lists breed contempt among pilots, who are often found skipping repetitive items or generic procedures that no longer apply to their aircraft because of customization or equipment differences. 

There was a time when aircraft didn't come with these elaborate booklets designed by the engineers and test pilots to cover the manufacturers from any possible liability. Before World War II aircraft checklists were simple enough to be a placard on the instrument panel or a mnemonic, CIGAR TIPS or GUMPS. 

The push to produce pilots that came with the ramp up and rapid entry into World War II, combined with the rapid increase in the complexity of the aircraft, demanded that visual checklists be generated to help the pilots get through the critical moments of flight. Designers understood that the checklists had to be visually verifiable, and created mechanical means for doing just that. Many classic airliners had scroll type or flip type checklists, where the co-pilot could flip a switch or scroll a knob as the captain completed each item he called out on the list. 

Even for general aviation the days of having a complete memorized normal operations checklist are long gone. Yes, you do still have to memorize “red box” items, such as engine fire procedures and emergency landing procedures. That said, if there is time to attempt an engine restart you'd better grab your checklist. And you won't pass even your private pilot checkride without brandishing the OEM  checklist and demonstrating your slavish execution of its direction. It's in the Practical Test Standards, so examiners have to care.

Here's why they do. NASA did its research in the 1990s and uncovered that otherwise excellent professional pilots have been seen to regularly “chunk” whole sections of checklists, glancing at the list, performing a series of tasks, and then perhaps glancing back to look over what they just did. Except a lot of times they never look back. They just “chunk” onto the next set of items. It might work some of the time, but skipping and chunking eventually leads to skipping something important, such as controls free and correct, or autopilot tested, fuel selector to fullest tank or flaps in position. These are the items that have killed pilots and passengers on general aviation aircraft and airliners alike. 

You can help yourself by doing what the airlines do: customize your checklist so that it perfectly matches your cockpit, and is doable. If that means digitize it on your iPad with one of the many excellent apps out there that allow you to actually touch-to-check each item, well, do it. You'll be using technology akin to that used in a Boeing 777, which allows pilots at a glance to see if they have missed an item, but is smart enough to know if they completed an item earlier in the flight and will show it as checked. If you have an integral MFD in the aircraft you fly there may already be a digital checklist programmed in. Take the time to learn how to customize and use it.  Even a good paper checklist that is set up with a logical flow for your aircraft is better than an OEM booklet that forces you to skip items that aren't applicable or jump around to accommodate the logistics of your aircraft. 

Treat checklists as the safety tools that they are, and they can do their job.  Just remember, they are proven to work when they make sense and they are used. So, make a sensible one for your aircraft, and use it.

Waiting it Out

Rain, wind, cool breeze on my cheek...nice stuff to break the heat of what is often summer's toughest month, August. Nice stuff if you are sitting, as I am, in a cozy chair, near a cozy stove, in a simple respite by the side of a country road, not far from a little country strip where my airplane sits tied down tight against the gale.

It was gusting to 40 knots just yesterday, and that was before this storm blew in off the Great Lakes. I'd
made it out to the airport, but deferred to better judgement and decided that, adequate ceiling or not, it was no day for flying in the mountains.

Warren-Sugarbush Airport

Anytime the wind blows better than 20 knots at altitude and there are mountains involved light aircraft pilots had best beware. Turbulence known to damage much larger birds can be kicked up by the friction of the wind against the rocks rising to meet it. Though many think that only the Sierras or the Rockies are capable of churning up enough turbulence to damage a light aircraft, they'd best think again. New England's weathered ranges are equally capable of putting a hurt on an airplane. Some of the wildest wind and weather on record have been recorded atop Mount Washington, in Vermont.

I'm sitting in the shadow of Sugarbush peak, in the Green Mountains, and I know the air gets squeezed and contorted as it whistles over this peak. Just two days ago I was soaring in a Schleicher ASK-21 directly over it, working to stay in the rising air kicked off by a bald near the top. Thermaling is fun if you enjoy steep turns and a good challenge. The trick is to feel the lift (seriously, this is a seat-of-your-pants kind of flying) and work to keep the glider balanced, turning, coordinated, right in the rising bubble of air. It is a bit like balancing on a beach ball whilst pivoting. Ever ride a unicycle? Maybe a little bit like that, too.

Look up as well as out. If you see a bird or a glider above you, well, that's a good thing. Keep working and you might get to cloud base, too. Once there, push the nose over, pick up best lift-to-drag (L:D) speed, and cruise to the next potential bubble of rising air. Sometimes ridges throw up beautiful streets of towering cumulous clouds that provide a glider with continuous, sequential columns of rising air. A good pilot can harness that energy and fly straight along the street, pushing the nose over and cruising rapidly through the sinking air, and pulling the nose up to maximize time in the rising air. Get good at it and you can fly cross countries from a single quick tow to the first thermal.

Of course, your mileage may vary. I've yet to build enough confidence in my soaring skill to head off away from the airport. I've been tempted a couple of times, but as a renter, I've always had limited time for my glider, and a deep fear of wandering too far from the home field. Most of all I worry that I might run out of lift.

In my case I just don't trust my skill at finding and staying in the lift long enough to achieve adequate altitude for my cross country—yet. Of course, the -21 has a 40:1 glide ratio, quite a lot better than the gliders I've flown before. I may be underestimating it, and me. Call me conservative if you must.

More than that, though I know I can get the glider down into a short, even a relatively rough field without doing damage, and though I know many potential landing sites along my potential routes of flight, I still want to avoid having to make the call back to the FBO to request a driver bring me the glider trailer, and all of the challenges disassembling and porting the ship out of said landing site and back to the airport. It is time-consuming for all, and potentially expensive for me. So why risk it, I think.

One of these days, soon, I hope, I'll be able to stay at a good soaring site long enough to gain the confidence I require to make that cross country flight in a glider. Maybe not this year, I think, glancing at the rain pelting the glass, but soon. I just need to find a summer long enough to handle that wish.