AircraftOwner Online

    This month in AircraftOwner Online, my colleague Dr. Brent Blue has written about the surprise announcement made on April 2nd by the Administrator of the FAA that has removed the absolute bar to holding a medical certificate if the pilot is taking certain anti-depressant medications (click here to read his article). While Dr. Blue concludes, probably correctly, that few pilots will actually take advantage of this change, I viewed this announcement differently, and very personally.

    A few years ago, a local neurosurgeon wrote a letter to the editor, in one of the many aviation magazines I read, complaining that it is perfectly lawful for him to operate on peoples’ brains while taking anti-depressants as prescribed, but that it was absolutely illegal for him
to fly a 172 around the patch. I could relate to that. I travelled to the Civil Aeronautical Medical Institute (CAMI) in Oklahoma City and spoke with several of the doctors there about the rumors that the FAA would approve anti-depressants for pilots and was told that, while the idea was not off the table entirely, it might take years. This was hardly good news for me.

    Eleven years ago, following a great many horrible events, my doctor advised me that I would have to take anti-depressant medications for the rest of my life if I wanted to avoid the possibility of another depressive episode. He advised me that the psychiatric literature indicated that adults over 40 who had experienced major depressive events, should be placed on low doses of anti-depressants as a prophylactic measure to prevent future depressive episodes. As much as flying had become the central point of my life, I knew that I would do anything I had to NOT to have another bout of out-of-control depression. At that point, I understood that I might never sit left seat solo in an aircraft again. I sold my interest in a beautiful aircraft, and I tried to satisfy myself with hitching rides with others. It didn’t work. There has been a huge hole in my life for over a decade. On April 2, 2010, for the first time, I got new hope, and that hole has begun to close.

    There is now a procedure available for me to be able to demonstrate that I am no longer depressed, although I take anti-depressants to make sure that I my serotonin levels will not allow any situational depression I may experience to spiral out of control. I can now apply to an AME for a medical and start along the long path to a special issuance from Oklahoma City. It may take a year or more to get my medical back, and I may have to spend a lot of money and subject myself to a lot of tests, but now I know that I have a fighting chance to get back in the left seat again.

    I must confess that there were many times over the past decade when I considered whether to attempt to obtain a medical certificate by “forgetting” that I was on anti-depressants. I might have gotten away with it, but my enjoyment of flying would have been tarnished by a constant fear that I would be found out and have my licenses revoked for intentionally falsifying my medical information to the FAA. I chose to simply endure the situation and to try to work for a change in the policy.

    Whenever possible, I have attempted to demonstrate that the FAA’s former position making anti-depressants automatically disqualifying was an absolutely prehistoric view of the current state of medical knowledge. I pointed out that having a pilot – particularly an airline pilot – who really should be on anti-depressants because of his or her chemical imbalances and resulting mental state of depression, refusing to have them prescribed for fear of losing his or her job and ability to earn a living and to support a family, was a lot more dangerous to the flying public than having someone who has been properly diagnosed and treated, whose symptoms are under control, exercising the privileges of his or her certificates. [When Administrator Babbitt made his announcement, he closed by saying that perhaps, if the pilot who flew his Piper Dakota into the IRS building in Texas had been taking the anti-depressants he may have required, we might not have had this tragedy which focused tremendous negative attention on private aviation.]

    Most of the FAA doctors with whom I have spoken over the years knew that the official position did not make sense. They even identified Canada and Australia as having very successful programs where anti-depressants were commonly used in the pilot population without problems. It appeared to me, however, that there really wasn’t any institutional momentum for the FAA to add the United States to these countries in this regard, and, knowing how long it takes this bureaucratic entity to get things done most times, I was not optimistic of any change to the policy.

    Dr. Blue is probably correct that not many pilots will take advantage of this change, but I know of at least one, and probably several more – including one neurosurgeon – who are deeply grateful for the opportunity to demonstrate our qualifications to fly safely. Kudos to the FAA and to all of those advisors who helped make this new policy a reality. I usually spend a lot of time doing battle with FAA and criticizing the things that I feel they do wrong. It actually feels great to be able to compliment the FAA for at least one thing that I feel they got right.

    Thank you FAA. Thank you CAMI. Thank you Administrator Babbitt.

SWAT Dogs and Tawny Port

 

By Judith R. Lear

 

As a flight school owner and aircraft broker I am frequently required to travel for business.  The purpose of these trips may vary; for instance, my partner and I may be hired to ferry aircraft back into our area or to handle a closing on an aircraft much like a real estate broker would close a property or to inspect an aircraft and/or all of the three.  For the most part these trips are not only enjoyable but educational.  And then there are those that make you question the very core of this country’s fiber and the essence of its heart and soul. 

 

One spring two years ago I found myself on such a trip.  We had been hired by a business man named Hans, who was quite fed up with airline travel and decided to buy a twin engine, private airplane.  By his calculations the time and money he would save on his trips -- including the salary of the pilot -- was more beneficial to him than the current option of flying the airline. 

 

We had just returned from St. Louis on another closing when the agent of a twin engine aircraft located in CA called to counter a bid I had submitted for Hans.  After haggling with the seller’s broker, a final offer was agreed upon and the next step was put into play; confirm a clear title, inspect the plane and the aircraft logs and fly it home to Virginia.

 

Over the years my partner Tom and I have made many aviation related friends along the way.  One of them was Rick, who had recently moved to Las Vegas.  We decided the first stop would be Vegas to visit Rick. 

 

As a veteran pilot instructor of 33 years, my partner was definitely the one who wore the pants in the flying arena and I trusted his judgment unquestionably.  One of his stead fast, no exception rules when ferrying a plane was day flying with Visual Flight Rules (VFR) only.  So it would be with this flight, also. 

 

After spending three days in Chico CA inspecting the plane and preparing the closing documents we were ready for our voyage home.  After reviewing the course I was surprised that Tom had charted us straight across the Sierra Nevada’s; albeit, at their lowest elevation!  Hmm, may I retract that statement about trusting Tom unquestionably?

 

Since the buyer’s pilot, Anthony, was with us to pick up the plane I would ride back seat instead of my usual right seat co-pilot.  Along the way Tom would instruct Anthony and at the end of the trip sign off on his multi engine endorsement.  That is if Anthony could keep Tom awake long enough to do so!   Did I mention that this was also part of the responsibility of the right seat?  As a helicopter instructor and fixed wing pilot Anthony proved himself a worthy student.  He not only handled the aircraft proficiently but by remained relaxed as Tom occasionally nodded off. 

 

Then it happened!   The plane began to climb uncontrollably.  Maintaining an altitude even remotely relevant to 14,000 feet became impossible.  We were “wind surfing.”  As a preliminary precaution we had all been sucking O2 since we exceeded 10,000 feet so there was no risk of hypoxia; however, Anthony, a flat-lander was alarmed.  I heard him exclaim nervously over the intercom, “I can’t control the altitude!”  Now fully alert Tom instantly calmed the young pilot.  “Just go with it, don’t fight it.  The plane will level out.

 

Needless to say from the back seat I had my eyes glued to the instruments, particularly the altimeter.  I watched as the needle uncontrollably rotated clockwise: 15,000, 15, 500 …16,000 and so on until we had reached 17,500 feet very near the aircraft’s ceiling!  Tom, ever cool, assured Anthony that we would level out and I’ll be damned if we didn’t! 

 

Anthony clearly relieved resumed his “role” as pilot in command, while I ceased my incessant wriggling in the back seat.  Tom went back to sleep.  The plane gracefully gained and lost altitude over the mountains wind surfing until we had cleared the ridge and began preparations to land.  We had been on Flight Following with the tower since leaving Chico so we called ahead and announced our intent.  The landing was perfect and Anthony required no intervention from Tom.  We were in Vegas!  Party time!

 

In my experience dealing with pilots, I’ve found there to be two types: the fly hard and fast, all business behind the yoke but party just as hearty type A and the studious, clean cut t-totaler’s type B like the image the commercial airlines portray.  The line seems equally drawn right down the middle.  Did I mention we were the former?

 

Prepared to experience the sites and landmarks of Las Vegas we met Rick at the private airport.  We weren’t disappointed with Rick’s hospitality but knowing what lay ahead – or so we thought -- we called it a short night.  Once back to the hotel we charted the course for the next day; right over the Grand Canyon.

 

Now if you think our flight was unnerving the day before … well … just let me say I had no clue what we were in for in the latter part of this flight -- thermals!   However, for now we effortlessly soared to10,000 feet cruise altitude and I settled into the back seat with book in hand.

 

Kaboom!  I was lifted -- I swear -- a foot off my seat!  Instinctively I looked out the port hole to see if the wings were still attached.  They were, but I feared they would soon depart the aircraft if we hit turbulence like that again!  The flight was so rough I could barely appreciate the scenic view beneath me.  I recalled water skiing as a teenager and the best way to describe the airplane’s attitude was skiing over rough seas at high tide!

 

Once again the Anthony-Tom team landed us safely on the ground.  This time the port of call was San Antonio, TX.  I jumped out of the plane obviously shaken, never so eager to disembark a vessel in my life.  Nearly running now, I stayed far enough ahead of the two pilots that they could barely lip read my demand.  “I need a drink!”  Tom and Anthony trailed behind me laughing and I suspect the joke was on me!  Of course, why that might be I haven’t a clue!

 

Ready to accommodate my demand -- a rare occasion in itself -- we chose a hotel near the airport that also had a bar.  It never ceases to amaze me how truly unique and different our country can be travelling from one area to the next.  And by air, the differences are even more dramatic.  Less than 5 hours before we had left the bright lights of the Las Vegas Strip and were now seated in a restaurant, complete with waiters dressed as cowboys and severed bull heads hanging off the walls! 

 

We all ordered steak cooked to perfection and a stiff Scotch and water for me; surprised?  Again, not knowing what lie ahead on our next leg, we left the restaurant and had a nightcap at the hotel bar.  We all retired early that evening electing to chart the next day’s course in the morning.

 

It was a beautiful, clear VFR day along our charted course and the temperatures were expected to remain warm along the southern route.  Determined not to chance another turbulent flight cold sober, I insisted we stop at the liquor store on the way to the airport, where I picked up a bottle of port.  I would put myself in the class of a moderate to light drinker especially in relation to my pilot team but today I would make the exception.  Once again, I took my leave to the back of the plane, only this time I was going to enjoy it regardless of the conditions!

 

The liquid did its job.  I was comfortable and relaxed and not at all concerned that the weather had turned sour somewhere along the route.  I did notice the commotion up front, while Tom and Anthony dodged the dark full clouds rapidly forming around us.  Due to inclement weather the decision to land was made and we found ourselves in a small southern Georgia town.  The sights and sounds of this laid back town could have been taken straight out of a scene from The Dukes of Hazard!  It was only mid afternoon when we landed and reasonably sure this would be our last stop before arriving Virginia; we elected to clean the plane.  Due to my fairly tipsy condition, I didn’t mind at all that I completed most of the work and luckily the pending rain held until we had finished.

 

We gathered the luggage -- and the empty port bottle -- and strolled across the ramp into the small terminal where we discarded the evidence.  We ordered fuel, called the hotel shuttle and waited in front of the terminal until the van arrived.  No sooner had I placed my hand on the door of the vehicle than we were swarmed by law enforcement officers!  The local sheriff was there, along with the FAA, the DEA and their dogs and the local police!  It was a movie scene straight out of a sting operation that left us dazed and confused.  Of course, my first thought was, “How did they know I was drinking on the plane?”  But as quickly as the thought occurred, it vanished with the realization that I had done nothing illegal.

 

The officers quickly and assertively disbanded our team and separated us for questioning.  As we were led away from each other our eyes were full of question and not in the least, fear.  As a group we were totally dumb founded and had no idea why we were being stopped.  I watched Tom as the DEA and FAA led him back to the ramp where the plane was tied down.  It was only later that I learned that they had ordered him to nearly disassemble the aircraft right on the ramp!  One by one, he removed the seats and the carpet as the sniffing German Shepherds performed their duties.

 

Since Anthony was not Pilot in Command and I was merely a passenger, we were held where we were stopped being drilled about our “intentions.”  I couldn’t hear Anthony’s questioning, but I clearly recall my own.  “Where are you coming from?  What business do you have with this plane?  Who owns it, and where is it headed?”  On and on the questions were fired at us and I could tell by Anthony’s body language, he was nearing his tolerance limit.  I wondered how long it would be before this young former marine would have had enough.  Meanwhile, I responded to the barrage of questions as quickly as I could, all the while praying silently that the officers would not smell the wine on my breath.

 

With the officers in tow ever cool Tom led his entourage leisurely past us laughing at something he had murmured to one of them.  As unexpectedly as we had been apprehended we were released with orders not to leave the area until we were notified that the investigation had been concluded.  As quickly as they stormed the airport environment the officers were gone, leaving us wondering, “What the hell just happened?”

 

Forced into sober reality, my thoughts rushed forward to what in the blue blazes I was going to tell the new owner!  The scene played out in my head.  “Ah, sorry Hans but we’ve been detained in cow-dunk GA with your half million dollar airplane.  Why, you ask?  I haven’t a clue.  When will we return?  Beats me -- we haven’t been told, yet.”

 

Oh, my … not good, not good at all!  What on earth were we going to do?  I didn’t know about Tom and Anthony but I felt like I was playing out a Laurel and Hardy skit complete with the phrase, “Well, Ollie, it’s a fine mess you’ve gotten us into, now!” 

 

Finally at the hotel we agreed to plot our next course of action -- which was -- call a lawyer!  And as the group’s mouthpiece, I was elected to call the new owner.  As luck would have it, I fretted over nothing.  Hans laughed hysterically as I hemmed and hawed through the sequence of events.  Did this sharp business man recognize something about our flight crew that I had not?  Could that be why he thought our excursion was so funny?

 

The guys claimed neither of them slept well the night before and I know I didn’t.  Breakfast in the hotel restaurant was quiet with the exception of charting the course home.  That is, if and when we were ever released to leave!  We never knew beyond our own speculation why we were stopped and detained that early spring day.  Only that we were, and more importantly that they could.  Fortunately, the plane was clean and even with all the checks and balances in play, you can never be completely sure of what you may be in for when you transport an unknown aircraft.  Sometime that morning our background checks all cleared and we were released to go. 

 

Solemnly, we departed the field clawing our way once again through the GA clouds, this time determined to make it home.  Thankfully the final leg was uneventful and for the first time during the trip we were escorted by a turbulence free, tail wind for most of the flight home.  At last from three miles out PVG was in view.  I couldn’t recall ever being as happy to view the cross wind runway at our home base. 

 

  We were greeted by an excited and satisfied customer while taxiing up to the ramp of the sales office.  Tom offered to take the new owner up but Hans generously declined, instead opting to take over my seat in the rear.  Anthony proudly showed him all the bells and whistles with which his new plane was equipped.  Waving off Hans’s invitation for a celebratory dinner, Tom and I left knowing that even with the unexpected detours we had done our jobs successfully.

 

Now as I write this, nearly two years have passed and we have continued to relocate aircraft each with its own distinct story.  I am happy to note here that none, however, can top our unexpected layover in Georgia.

 

 

Editor’s Note:

 

Rick Carmichael has now joined the Lear Stevens Aviation Services, Inc. team! 

 

 

 

     

  

 

 

 

 

My friend, Rod, who flies helicopters throughout the west during the fire season, had been asking me to come visit him and his significant other, Liz, in their new home in Georgetown, CA for some time. Georgetown is not far from Placerville, where I visited them in my R22 back in November 2003. It’s also not far from Sacramento. So when Apple Inc. invited me to show off my latest Mac OS book at an internal event in Elk Grove (just south of Sacramento), and the Arden Fair Apple Store gave me a time slot for a presentation on the same day, it seemed like a perfect excuse for a cross-country flight in my five-month-old Robinson R44 Raven II helicopter. Nothing like mixing business with pleasure.

 

I took off from Wickenburg on Tuesday May 3, 2005 just before 9 AM. I’d planned the flight out and had checked the weather. Except for moderately high winds in the Edwards Air Force Base area of CA, the weather looked good and I was confident that I’d make the 500+ mile trip in one day. My calculations showed about 5-1/2 hours with two fuel stops. I headed almost due west from Wickenburg, with Twentynine Palms punched into my GPS as my first waypoint. That was a distance of about 150 miles.

 

It was all familiar terrain; I’d flown the route before. It passes just north of Aguila, slips through Cunningham Pass in the Harcuvar Mountains, cuts across the barren desert, and crosses the Colorado River just south of Parker. Then it’s more barren desert, marked up by the tread tracks of World War II tanks. The area was used extensively for tank training, and the two-track marks are still clearly visible from the air for mile after mile. I crossed over the town of Rice, which is no more than a deserted landmark. The flying was smooth and I listened to tunes on my iPod as I flew. It’s a good thing I had the iPod for entertainment, because there was very little beneath me worth noting. I skirted along the northern boundary of Joshua Tree National Park toward Twentynine Palms. There were signs of civilization beneath me. Small square houses scattered on the north side of the road. All of the homes were abandoned and there wasn’t much around them to indicate why they’d been built in the first place.

 

I crossed over Twentynine Palms and my GPS automatically steered me toward the next waypoint, Williams. There was nothing going on at Twentynine Palms, but at least I was flying over a good-sized town with things to look at. I’d flown to Williams airport before, but it wasn’t called Williams. I couldn’t remember what it had been called until I flew over it again: Hi Desert. It was painted on the runway. The place had been for sale the last time I’d stopped. I’d been in the R22 and had stopped there for fuel. It had one impressive home on it and the rattiest restroom I’d ever been in. I guess someone bought it and changed its name. I didn’t stop that day; the R44 holds more fuel so I didn’t need to stop until my next waypoint, Apple Valley.

 

There was a student pilot in the pattern at Apple Valley when I arrived. I think he was Asian, if his accent was an indicator. I got in behind him on downwind, watched him turn base and final, then cut in behind him, crossed the runway, and landed on the ramp. There were two men there, sitting in the shade of an Decathalon’s wing. After I landed, one of them climbed aboard and taxied away, leaving his companion on the ramp. I shut down and walked to the FBO to place a fuel order. Then I hit the terminal for the bathroom and a bite to eat. It was about 11:20 AM and I was right on schedule. I’d planned to leave Apple Valley by noon.

 

The restaurant at Apple Valley, Leonard’s, wasn’t anything to write home about. But it does make hot food. I ordered bacon, egg, and cheese on an English muffin -- they serve breakfast until 4 PM -- but was told that I could save money by ordering one of the breakfast plates. Rather than argue with the waiter, I just ordered what he suggested. When the food came, it was bacon and egg on a buttered English muffin with potatoes on the side. No cheese. Whatever.

 

Outside, a biplane landed and picked up the man who’d been on the ramp. I started thinking about whether it was possible to cross the country as a hitchhiker at small airports. You know, hitching rides with local pilots who are going 20 or 30 or 50 miles in the direction you want to go. Sounds like a summer adventure when I run out of money and have to sell Zero-Mike-Lima.

 

I paid for my breakfast and fuel, did a walk-around of Zero-Mike-Lima, and climbed on board. When I took off, it was just after noon. The first waypoint was Southern California Logistics (Victorville), the only towered airport I transitioned. It was about 10 miles from Apple Valley, so I reached it quickly. The controller cleared me across at 2800 feet and gave me the altimeter setting.

 

Victorville is an airliner graveyard. The last two times I’d crossed over it, I’d noticed a lot of Tower Air planes. A friend of mine, Alta, used to fly for Tower. This time, there were lots of United planes. The Tower planes were in the process of being chopped up. It was a very sad thing to see.

 

From Victorville, I flew toward Rosamond. On my last trip, I’d been stuck at Rosamond for an overnight stay because high winds made it hazardous to cross the mountains. I had no plans to ever stay at Rosamond again.

 

My flight path took me over even more empty desert with even more deserted homes in the middle of nowhere. To the north, I could see the huge dry lake bed of Edwards Air Force Base. But it wasn’t all dry. The heavy rains in the southwest seemed to have filled the southwest corner of the lake bed with water, making a shallow lake. Rosamond’s lake was full or overflowing, too.

 

I flew over the airport at Rosamond, exchanging calls with a southbound airplane pilot who passed about a half mile to my left about 200 feet up. Then I headed north, toward Tehachapi, where I planned to cross into the central valley.

 

The mountainside approaching Tehachapi from the south is a wind farm. There are hundreds of windmills. The 15-20 knot winds forecast for that time of day in the area didn’t seem to have materialized. It was a relatively smooth flight as I climbed over the windmills. Only about 2/3 of them were spinning. New ones were under construction. It was nice to see that someone was interested in alternative energy sources back then.

 

I crossed over the mountain town of Tehachapi and its two small airports. One of these days, I’m going to land there.

 

Next waypoint, Porterville, 62 miles northwest. I’d programmed all of this into my GPS, so navigation was an breeze. I backed it all up by keeping track of my location on a sectional chart. The charts were all piled up on the passenger seat, folded so I could see what I needed to. Very neat.

 

A while back, I saw an AOPA safety video about situational awareness and over dependence on GPS for navigation. If your GPS fails, do you know where you are? I’ll never forget that video. That’s why I have the charts to back me up.

 

I was descending over the foothills of the Sierras, about halfway between Tehachapi and Porterville, when I started hearing a weird metallic clicking sound. It sounded like the seatbelt latch being snapped. Once, twice, a few times more. Then a steady but irregular stream of clicks. I looked around in the cabin, but could not figure out what was making all that noise. My instruments looked fine, the helicopter was handling fine. What the hell was it?

 

I was starting to think about making a precautionary landing, when I looked through the bubble as a huge bug hit the Plexiglas. Splat! Then clink! I was flying through a bug storm and the clinks I was hearing was the sound of bugs hitting the rotor mast shroud and skid pants. Sheesh! I descended a bit, but it didn’t subside. I started wondering whether the helicopter was being damaged and felt helpless to stop it. It went on for at least fifteen minutes. Then the sounds subsided and I continued my flight looking between bug splats.

 

The terrain here was gently rolling hills of greenish grass with scattered trees. Pretty but not outstanding. Not much in the way of civilization, although I did cross over a few remote ranches. By the time I got to Porterville, I was down in farmland. There had been some mild turbulence as the wind over the hills tossed me about. But then even that subsided. I was flying at about 500 feet above the ground with a white haze above me and limited visibility in all directions except down. Welcome to California’s Central Valley. I could see the ground perfectly well. The radio, which I tuned into the proper frequencies for radio calls throughout my flight, was quiet. No one was interested in flying in this white muck.

 

I passed over Sequoia and Reedley on my way to my next fuel stop at Mariposa. Somewhere along the way, I left the farmland and started climbing back into the foothills. By the time I reached Mariposa, I was in rolling mountains full of thick green grass and flowers, dotted with tall trees and cows. I crossed over a small herd of cattle on a hilltop, scattering what looked like javelina, before landing on the taxiway.

 

Two airplanes were at the self-serve fuel pumps. One had already fueled and its door was open but its pilot was nowhere in sight. The other was being fueled. A few men were chatting nearby. I hovered for a moment, then set down on the ramp about 30 yards away to wait. Spinning. Burning fuel. You think these airplane pilots would get the hint, but they were either being very dense or very rude. After about 10 minutes, I picked up and moved over to the other side of them, making it clear that I was waiting to get at the pumps. By this time they were both done fueling and they were just bullshitting. Seeing my helicopter a bit closer (and feeling its rotor wash) woke them up. They climbed on board and moved so I could get at the pumps.

 

The airport was beautiful. Well, the airport wasn’t beautiful. The area around the airport was beautiful. To the northeast was a high hill covered with grass and trees. As I fueled my helicopter, a cow and calf walked by on the other side of the fence. I could hear cows calling to each other. I took a photo, but it doesn’t do the place justice.

 

The airport staff was unhelpful and unfriendly. But the fuel was the cheapest around. And the bathroom was clean. So I guess you could say it was a good stop.

 

I took off on my final leg to Rod’s place, passing over Columbia and Placerville on the way to the coordinates Rod had given me. I passed over many canyons filled with rushing water. It was really beautiful -- so different from the barren desert I’d been flying over earlier in the day.

 

I zeroed in on the coordinates without much trouble, but beneath me were just trees and houses. On my third circle, I saw Rod down below, waving at me. I recognized his house from the pictures. I set up for an approach and started in. But the landing zone was surrounded by tall pines and I had to fly right over his neighbor’s house to land. I was about even with the treetops when I decided that I didn’t like the LZ. I added power and pulled out. I circled around, waved to Rod, and headed for the airport at Georgetown, only 2-1/2 miles away. (For the record, I did land there in September 2009 when I came through from Seattle to Wickenburg with my husband. But that’s another story.)

 

Rod arrived as I was cleaning bugs off the bubble (for the third time that day). He gave me a big hug and spent some time admiring Zero-Mike-Lima. Then we loaded my gear into his Jeep and headed back to his place.

 

The following days were a lot of fun. The helicopter stayed parked – except for short rides for Rod, Liz, and Liz’s nieces – so I won’t bore you with the details here. In the coming weeks, I’ll tell you about the return flight, which wasn’t nearly as smooth.

 

 

Maria Langer is a freelance writer and commercial helicopter pilot based in Arizona. The owner/operator of Flying M Air, LLC, she flies passengers on tours, day trips, and multi-day excursions throughout the southwest. Maria’s stories about flying helicopters will soon appear in a new book tentatively titled, Flying Helicopters: My First Ten Years. You can visit her online at www.MariaLanger.com.

 

If you have any inclination to purchase a “new” aircraft the ideal time may be right now.

There are some really great deals in aircraft floating around these days. If you are in the market, these next few months might well be the time to break into the piggy bank, negotiate hard and pull the trigger. If we are on an economic rebound, the low prices I’ve been seeing lately won’t stick around.

And, what I have been seeing are some very good deals.  For example, I just heard of a Cessna 185 with good times, on amphibs for $250,000. Then I just noticed a one owner (a Fortune 500 company) Cessna Citation 500 with comparatively low times for less than $500,000.  I also ran across a Caravan on amphibs you could have picked up for sub $600,000. And I have seen some really great prices on Beech Barons.    

Right now, I think you can take a look at V-ref or the Blue Book and offer “wholesale” prices with a good chance your offer will be accepted.  It’s definitely a buyer’s market. 

Which brings to mind:  The EAA is running their aircraft auction on Saturday at AirVenture this summer.  That will be very interesting to watch and should help us get some additional definition in the marketplace.  

In the mean time, if you hear of any crazy great deals, post them here so we can get a feel for where this market is going.  We also have many good listings in the AircraftOwner classified area.

 

Okay, I admit it: I love gadgets, especially gizmos that let me dispense with paper. Address book? That’s in the iPhone, which is also well-stocked with a variety of handy aviation apps. Latest version of a draft magazine article? That would be on the thumb drive—but also accessible via a newly-acquired app that lets me put files in one place and read them on any device with an Internet connection. Weather info? The stack of dot-matrix printer paper I used to lug around has long since been supplanted by datalink weather acquired through a collection of handheld and panel mounted devices. In my increasingly paperless world, the recent arrival of updated paper instrument approach procedure (IAP) charts is admittedly something of an anomaly. I do like the “security blanket” aspect of those neatly folded paper charts, possibly because I have personally seen how one mistaken button-push can lead to instant and simultaneous amnesia for two GPS moving-map navigators. Paper prevailed on that occasion. Still, the lure of lightening my flight-bag load and dispensing with the clutter of a papered airplane is strong. Envy of a pilot pal’s e-chart setup was the final push I needed to do some basic research into the concept of the Electronic Flight Bag (EFB). Here’s what I learned. There’s a Doc for That Like airplanes themselves, EFBs come in a variety of forms, capabilities, and restrictions. The FAA defines those forms, capabilities, and restrictions—plus the term itself—in Advisory Circular (AC) 120-76A, Guidelines for the Certification, Airworthiness, and Operational Approval of Electronic Flight Bag Computing Devices. It can be found at: www.faa.gov/regulations_policies/advisory_circulars/index.cfm/go/document.information/documentID/23222. Let’s get one important point on the table right away: As stated in the opening paragraph of AC 120-76A, the guidance material in this AC applies to the usual collection of commercial operators in Title 14 Code of Federal Regulations (14 CFR) part 121, 125, 129, or 135 operations. For 14 CFR part 91, it applies to large and turbine-powered multi-engine aircraft operating under 14 CFR part 91, subpart F (which covers fractional ownership), but only if the operating regulations require specific functionality and/or equipage under 14 CFR section 91.503 for Flying equipment and operating information. Other part 91 operations—including those of us who fly light general aviation aircraft for business or pleasure—do not require any specific authorization for EFB operations, as long as the EFB does not replace any system or equipment required by the regulations. Yet, even if the EFB conditions and restrictions outlined in the AC don’t apply to the kind of flying you currently do, it is still useful to know how the FAA defines and classifies these devices. The ABCs of EFBs Advisory Circular 120-76A defines the term EFB as: An electronic display system intended primarily for cockpit/flight deck or cabin use. EFB devices can display a variety of aviation data or perform basic calculations (e.g., performance data, fuel calculations, etc.). The scope of EFB system functionality may include various hosted databases and applications. Physical EFB displays may use various technologies, formats, and forms of communication. These devices are sometimes referred to as auxiliary performance computers (APC) or laptop auxiliary performance computers (LAPC). The FAA categorizes EFBs in three classes. Class 1 and Class 2 EFB systems are both based on commercial off-the-shelf (COTS) systems and both are considered to be personal electronic devices (PED). Also, both are portable (not permanently installed in the aircraft). The difference between Class 1 and Class 2 is primarily derived from how they are mounted in the aircraft and what must be approved. A Class 1 system is not attached to an aircraft mounting device, aircraft primary power supply, or data connectivity. Class 1 EFB systems can be used both on the ground and during flight, but must be stowed for takeoff and landing. They are limited to providing supplemental information and cannot replace any required system or equipment. A Class 1 EFB may be connected to aircraft power through a certified power source to operate the EFB and recharge its batteries. A Class 1 EFB can display tabular data, such as performance tables, checklists, and the pilot operating handbook (POH). A Class 2 EFB system can be attached to a structural-mounting bracket to ensure that it does not interfere with other aircraft systems. Though considered a PED, the use of a structural-mounting bracket made only for that device means that a logbook entry is required to remove a Class 2 EFB from the aircraft. A Class 2 system can be connected to aircraft power and to a certified data connection in order to exchange data with aircraft systems and make interactive performance calculations. In addition, a Class 2 EFB can be used to compute weight–and-balance information as well as takeoff and-landing V-speeds. It can also provide flightcritical data, such as navigation charts. Since it is not necessarily stowed for takeoff and landing, a pilot can also use the Class 2 EFB to display departure, arrival, and approach charts. Class 3 EFB systems, which are the most capable, require approvals. A Class 3 EFB system is installed equipment that, with exceptions for user-modifiable software used to host certain kinds of applications, requires a Supplemental Type Certificate (STC) or certification design approval as part of the aircraft equipment. It is also subject to certification requirements that enable additional applications and functions. Know When to Hold ’Em There was a time when features such as moving maps, airport diagrams, and datalink weather existed only on Class 3 EFBs. Today, however, these functions (and many more) are available in Class 2 models that are—as the COTS characterization would imply—widely available commercial devices that anyone can buy. However, due to lack of airworthiness approval to demonstrate reliability, the display of “own-ship” position in flight on a Class 1 or Class 2 device is not authorized where regulatory compliance is required. A unit with current IAP charts can be characterized as a Class 1 EFB, if it is not attached to the airplane, or as a Class 2 EFB, if it is mounted in the panel. The question is: Can you legally use an EFB? According to the guidance, 14 CFR part 121 and 135 operators must obtain specific operational authorization to use them. For those in part 91 operations, however, the FAA states that use of Class 1 and 2 EFBs to replace paper charts is at the pilot’s discretion. Know When to Fold ’Em That’s good news, of course, but pilots of paperless airplanes need to use that discretion wisely. Reasons for caution include: - Devices not subject to FAA approval of components or installation are not guaranteed to provide the kind of reliability you expect from products that have successfully made it through these processes. - Devices can fail, and they often fail at inopportune moments. In the personal example mentioned earlier, the pilot’s hand was jostled by turbulence and he accidentally pressed the GPS data-card ejection button instead of the flight-plan key he meant to activate in response to an amended ATC clearance. The unit—and the secondary unit configured for “cross-talk” with the primary navigator—immediately went into reboot mode and “forgot” everything connected with the flight. - The cables, cords, and antennas required for portable EFBs can create more clutter—and, potentially, more hazardous clutter—than the paper charts they are intended to replace. The bottom line: EFB technology is available here and now, and proper use of any class of EFB system can improve efficiency and safety while eliminating considerable weight in paper. Sounds like I need to shop for my next gadget. Susan Parson is a special assistant in FAA’s Flight Standards Service. She is an active general aviation pilot and flight instructor.

In a surprise announcement, the FAA announced April  2nd, that for the first time, it will allow pilots to fly on anti- depressant medications. There are multiple caveats and “gotchas” but it is a remarkable forward step for the normally conservative bureaucracy in understanding this disease.

 

I am one physician and AME that is glad to see this change. I have always said that I would rather be flying with a pilot with depression controlled on medication than a pilot who is depressed and needs medication.

 

Mild to moderate endogenous depression is very responsive to antidepressant medications mainly because it is a medical disease with psychological symptoms. Endogenous depression is due to an inadequate level of serotonin in the brain. When this chemical is below normal levels, a person will be depressed regardless of the life events around him. Unfortunately, serotonin does not cross the “blood-brain” barrier so it is not measurable in the blood. If it were, the diagnosis and treatment of depression would be immeasurably easier.

 

The FAA’s policy allows for the use of four medications for depression. They are
fluoxetine (Prozac), sertraline (Zoloft), citalopram (Celexa), and escitalopram (Lexapro). These are very common, non-sedating medications, which have a long history of use with minimal side effects. In order to gain approval, the pilot must be stable on one (and only one) of these medications for 12 months. That means if a pilot was on non-accepted medication, he would have to change and then be stable for 12 additional months before he could apply for the certificate.

 

The initial consideration of a special issuance for depression also requires a consultation with a psychiatrist that describes the patient’s condition and full details of the treatment. As I interpret the written criteria, this evaluation could not be a primary care physician (PCP) who has been treating the patient but must be a psychiatrist. Since 90% of patients with depression are treated by PCPs, this is going to be a hurtle. I can assure you that a psychiatrist is not going to be excited about doing a consult on a well control, mild to moderately depressed pilot, in order to write a letter.

 

In addition to the consultation, the pilot will be required to take several psychological tests including COGSCREEN AE, Trails A/B, Stroop Test, CCPT, PASSAT, and Wisconsin Card Sorting Test. A psychologist usually administers these tests so a second consult will be required and the cost is attention getting.

 

The pilot will also be required to write a statement describing his history of medication use and mental health status.

 

Once everything above is all completed, a specially trained AME (HIMS trained) must review all the material and make a recommendation for a SI certificate to Oklahoma City. HIMS trained AMEs are part of a program to get pilots who have had drug or alcohol problems back in the cockpit. Unfortunately, there are not many of these specially trained AMEs. (I guess another FAA course is in my future.)

 

In an unusual twist to all this, pilots who have been taking antidepressants have six months of amnesty to admit their transgressions. Of course, they will be immediately grounded but will not be prosecuted. If pilot are on one of the accepted medications for a year or more, been stable and controlled, then they can apply for an SI by following the above criteria. In that situation and all goes well, the pilot would only be grounded for one to three months. However, if on a non-approved medication, the pilot would have to be switched to an approve one and the twelve month clock would start ticking.

 

What is the bottom line? Although there are many pilots out there who are taking antidepressant medication, my bet is there will not be many who are forthcoming since no one wants to be grounded for a minimum of three months and possibly permanently if they do not meet all the specifications.

 

The people who it will help most are pilots to be who have not started the training process because there has been a heretofore locked door prior. With time and experience with pilots flying under this new directive, the FAA may relax some of these requirements especially with regards to renewal of medical certificates.

 

As one AME wrote to the Federal Air Surgeon six weeks prior to this ruling, maybe the guy who flew into the IRS in Austin might not have if he had been on an antidepressant!

Pilots have a unique perspective. Flying lets us see the world in a different way, but our passion for aviation also gives many of us a different take on medical issues. For a non-pilot, a serious medical condition might first bring up fears of dying. For many pilots, though, diagnosis of the same medical con­dition might first arouse fears of not flying. There are aviators among us who may even perceive “not flying” as a fate worse than dying. That may be extreme, but most pilots can certainly empathize with the visceral “what-happens-to-my-medical” fear that shadows reporting any visit to a medical professional on the Airman Medical Application (otherwise known as Form 8500-8).

 

Truth…

Title 14 Code of Federal Regulations sec­tion 67.403 expressly prohibits falsification of the Airman Medical Application. Those who possess the skills and discipline to become pilots are gen­erally people of integrity, people who would not normally think of themselves as dishonest. Still, fear can lead to unwise decisions. Even though most conditions can be certified, the loss-of-med­ical concern has prompted some pilots to be less than truthful on the Form 8500-8.

The numbers are troubling. In a study of every fatal accident between 1993 and 2003, FAA researchers found toxicological evidence that nearly 10 percent of the 4,143 pilots in the study had a serious medical condition. Of these, only 22 percent of the medical conditions had been reported on the Airman Medical Application form. A National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) review of more than 20,000 aviation accidents since 1995 found 327 accidents in which impairment, incapacitation, or a medical condition were identi­fied as causes or factors.

Just to be clear, there is no “gray area” on matters of medical certification. Form 8500-8 is a legal document. It must also be complete: Skipping Block 17 on the Form 8500-8, which asks about medications, will simply cause delays. Neither the aviation medical examiner (AME) nor the FAA’s Aerospace Medical Certification Division can process an incomplete form.

 

…or Consequences

An applicant who knowingly misrepre­sents the facts on the Airman Medical Application form faces significant penalties. These can include revocation of pilot and medical certificates, fines up to $250,000, and even imprisonment for up to five years. Though offenses that merit imprisonment are rare, they are not unknown—and they usually stem from events in which someone suffered the consequence of an accident. Last year, for example, a judge sentenced a pilot to 16 months in prison and two years of probation for repeatedly lying about his insulin-dependent diabetes on the Airman Medical Application form. In this case, the pilot experienced a diabetic seizure while flying an aircraft with four passengers aboard. The incident ended with no injuries due to the actions of a passenger who also happened to be a pilot trainee, but the penalties meted out to the pilot reflect the narrowly averted potential for disas­trous consequences.

A pilot per­forming wolf survey flights for a state natural resources department was not as fortunate. The investigation into his fatal accident revealed no problems with the aircraft, but the pilot’s medical conditions included both diabetes and congestive heart disease—both of which he had consistently failed to report on the Airman Medical Application form. The NTSB concluded that pilot incapacitation was the probable cause of this accident, with false information on the Form 8500-8 listed as a contributing factor.

 

Cover-Ups Don’t Work

A final caution: It is something of a cliché that cover-up attempts are rarely successful, and that the consequences of a cover-up can sometimes be worse than those resulting from the original misdeed. Such is also the case in medical certifica­tion. Remember that your signature on the Form 8500-8 authorizes the FAA to search the National Driver’s Registry for violations involving alcohol or illegal drugs, which means that failing to disclose a conviction for driving under the influence of alcohol (DUI), or driving while intoxicated (DWI) will put you at risk for sanctions far worse than those associated with reporting such violations. In the event of an accident or incident, there is also the possibility that toxicology reports, e.g., blood and urine samples, will clearly testify to a condition that the pilot failed to report.

In another instance, a cooperative effort between FAA and the Inspectors General from the Department of Transportation and the Social Security Administration called Operation Safe Pilot uncovered cases in which some pilots were fraudulently collecting 100 percent Social Security disability benefits and/or falsifying FAA medical applications. Measures implemented to address this issue included modifying the Form 8500-8 to add a question about receipt of any form of disabil­ity compensation and adding a notice stating that the pilot’s signature authorizes the FAA to compare Form 8500-8 data with information from agencies that might be providing disability benefits.

 

Strategies for Certification Success

Now that we’ve talked about what not to do, here are some steps you can take to enhance your prospects for honestly and legally getting your FAA medical certificate if your health is an issue.

Get the facts. Use the many resources avail­able these days to learn as much as you can about the certification implications of your particular medical condition. A good place to start is the medical certification home page on the FAA’s Web site (http://www.faa.gov/pilots/medical/). You can also access the FAA MedXpress form from this page.

Use your resources. The Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association (AOPA), the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA), and many other aviation organizations provide medical certification infor­mation, advice, and advocacy for their members.

Resolve the problem. If your fact-finding research gives you any reason to believe that your medical issue might be disqualifying, delay your visit to the AME. Instead, work with your physician to resolve the issue.

Document, document, document. Your fact-finding research should include learning exactly what the FAA needs to certify your condition. As you work with your physician, be sure to have him/her document the specifics of your condition, your treatment, and your prognosis in precisely the format and level of detail that the FAA requires.

Doing your part will speed the FAA’s evalua­tion and get you back into the cockpit as quickly as possible. Just remember, honesty is the only policy!

 

Susan Parson is a special assistant in Flight Standards Service’s General Aviation and Commercial Division. She is an active general aviation pilot and flight instructor.

If anyone would have told Cindy Pilling a decade ago, that some day soon she’d be flying an airplane across country in the women’s Air Race Classic, she’d have thought that person had, well, flown the coop. “I never would have believed it,” said Piling, a pilot for just six years now and president of Women With Wings (WWW), the St. Louis Chapter of Women in Aviation International (WAI). As a software engineer, Pilling certainly seemed to have the necessary aptitude to be a pilot. She was detail oriented and disciplined. But to actually fly an airplane? Well, that was a different story. It hadn’t really crossed her mind. She‘d done very well so far during her some 40 years with her feet firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much. Then out the clear blue sky, a friend suggested that she would make a good pilot. Instead of fluffing off the idea, totally -- for reasons that aren’t all together clear -- Pilling entertained the notion. She thought of her father. He was a “frustrated pilot.” Her father had to give up his dream of flying in the wake of an unfortunate accident that was a little too close for comfort. After that, his options were limited. “My grandfather (on her Mom’s side) told my dad that he could either marry my Mom or get his pilot’s license, not both,” said Pilling. “So he never got his license. But it was kind of always there when I was growing up. But, I’m glad he married my mom, of course.” So perhaps for her father, for herself -- or both, Pilling decided to give flying a try. She took flight lessons. Within a year or so, Pilling was flying. A couple years later, in 2004 -- after “life got in the way” to some degree, she had her license. She was a pilot. Ever since Pilling ventured out into the potentially-daunting world of aviation, she says everything has changed. You might say her overall quality of life, has taken flight. “Flying and being a pilot does so much for your confidence,” reflects Pilling. “It has improved my professional life, my relationships, everything really. One of the great things I learned for myself as a pilot is how to be better organized and how to have patience.” This past January, Pilling was the proud recipient of a $500 scholarship from her WWW comrades towards furthering her aviation ambitions. Pilling will put the funds towards acquiring her commercial license and her flight instructor’s license. Pilling is one of 41 members of Women with Wings -- the largest and fifth oldest (formed in 1997) chapter of WAI, which has 7,500 members in 66 chapters across the globe. Some WAI chapters recently contributed funds toward helping ensure the Women Air Force Service Pilots, or WASPS, of World War II had air transit to receive their Congressional Gold Medal last month in Washington, DC. “We figured it was the least we could do after what they did for our country,” said Pilling. On March 10, the WASPS were awarded the Gold Medal, Congress’ highest expression of national appreciation. More than 200 of the nearly 300 WASPS still alive today, attended the ceremony. About 1,100 civilian female pilots were recruited by the Air Force in 1942. They performed domestic duties such as testing newly-developed aircraft, and flying military planes across the country. Thirty-eight wasps were killed in the line of duty between 1942 and 1944. “All we ever asked for is that our overlooked history would some day no longer be a missing chapter in the history of World War II, in the history of the Air Force, in the history of aviation, and most especially in the history of America,” said Deanie Parrish, former WASP, who spoke at the medal ceremony on the women’s behalf. It’s chapters like Pilling’s WWW that help honor those first women military pilots and preserve a vital interest in aviation today for future generations of women flyers. Women With Wings was the first WAI chapter to engage the girl scouts in aviation education. “We tell them about aviation in general and explain to them all the different opportunities there are,” said Pilling. “We show them that you don’t have to know how to fly to be involved in aviation. There’s the tower control, weather observation and so many other things. It was awesome working with the girls and they really got a lot of it.” Pilling points to herself and shares her life’s story with different groups of girls and women in hopes of inspiring them and demonstrating that anything is possible. She adds: “And really, it’s not just about aviation, but community service as well.” By all accounts, WWW appears to be one of the more active chapters in WAI, holding several events a month. Said Pilling: “We always find something to do.“ Recently, the women held a “Support The Troops” night where members made greeting cards for the military men and women in Iraq and Afghanistan. They hold scholarship dinners, and speaker nights. Astronaut Sandy Magnus recently spoke about her adventures on the space shuttle. WWW donates to causes like the Saint Louis Air Museum. Members recently took a tour of Scott Air Force Base in Bellville, Illinois -- central operations for the nation’s military aircraft. The women even have a regular movie night, offering a different flight flick each time. Those interested in joining either women With Wings or Women in Aviation International can check out their respective websites: www.womenwithwings.us and www.wai.org. Today, Pilling flies a 1978 Cessna 182 RG, of which she owns half with fellow WWW member Evelyn Rosengarten of St. Louis. In 2007, just a few years after she got her pilot’s license, Pilling competed in the women’s Air Race Classic -- formerly the “Powder Puff Derby.” Pilling and her co-pilot Rosengarten placed 29th in a field of 45 planes. The three-day race, started in Wiley Post Airport in Oklahoma, and ended in St. John New Brunswick, Canada for a total of 2236.2 Nautical Miles. But Pilling’s greatest memory so far in her short flying career, is likely that fun flight down the Hudson on her way home from Canada after the race. The women were given the unusual permission to approach the State of Liberty in New York City and circle. “We circled once and they told us we could circle as long as we liked,” said Pilling, who sounded as if she were back in the pilot’s seat, hands on the controls and looking out over New York Harbor. “We stayed for 3 times around. That’s something I’ll never, ever forget.”

When the Sport Pilot/Light Sport Aircraft rule was implemented in 2004, one of its many benefits was the creation of a new repairman certificate: Experimental Light Sport Aircraft (ELSA) repairman with an inspection rating and Special Light Sport Aircraft (SLSA) repairman with a maintenance rating. These ratings authorize owners, maintainers, and pilots of Light Sport Aircraft (LSA) to perform certain inspection and maintenance functions. As with any aviation privilege, exercising the privileges of these ratings means accepting responsibility for doing the job correctly. That, in turn, means ensuring that you have the knowledge, skills, and equipment you need for the task.

To help you determine your readiness for this responsibility, the FAA has developed a Personal Minimums Checklist for Maintenance. Already widely used in the maintenance community, this checklist can be a great resource to those with LSA repairman certificates. Here are the things you’ll want to address before you start any given inspection or maintenance task:

 

Have I had the proper training?

Inspection Rating Training Requirements: Prior to applying for a repairman certificate with an inspection rating, the owner/pilot of an ELSA must complete a 16-hour training course in the same class of aircraft for which you seek inspection privileges.

 

Maintenance Rating Training Requirements: Prior to applying for a repairman certificate with a maintenance rating, an individual owner/pilot must complete the required training for a specific class of light-sport aircraft. The length of training varies with the class of aircraft for which you seek maintenance privileges. Also the repairman needs to check the manufacturer’s requirements for additional task specific training.

 

Do I have the knowledge to perform the task?

Training is the necessary starting point, but you must also have knowledge and understanding of the task. For example, do you understand the manufacturer’s instructions as set out in the maintenance manuals? Here’s a real-life example. In some gyrocopters, there is a requirement for the cables to be reversed. If you don’t have sufficient knowledge and understanding, you might install the cables incorrectly.

 

Have I performed the task previously?

Experience counts too, and, in fact, it is required. A repairman must demonstrate the ability to do the work correctly or perform the task under the direct supervision of an appropriately certificated, trained, rated, and experienced mechanic or repairman, before he or she can approve any ELSA or SLSA aircraft or part for return to service.

 

Have I researched the regulations to ensure compliance?

You will want to review Title 14 of the Code of Federal Regulations (14 CFR) parts 1, 21, 39, 43, 45, 65, 91, as well as industry-developed ASTM International consensus standards on topics, including, but not limited to, continued airworthiness requirements and inspection practices/ techniques.

 

Am I mentally prepared to perform the task?

With today’s fast-paced lifestyle, fatigue affects everyone’s mental preparation to at least some degree. Recognizing fatigue is a key to ensuring you are prepared to do the work. Since fatigue is cumulative, you can mitigate the level of risk by simply getting some sleep—including naps. If naps are not in your  schedule, know your limitations. Have someone check your work. Use a task checklist to ensure that you haven’t missed anything. Accept your limitations, and do critical work only when you are mentally and physically refreshed.

 

Am I physically prepared to perform the task?

Whether it is strength, flexibility, or vision, make sure you’re physically prepared for the task. In my early years as a maintenance technician, I had no problem occupying a small aircraft compartment, and I could easily read numbers on electric wires. Things are different today. I can’t get into a small compartment, and there is no way I can read those numbers without a magnifying glass.

 

Have I taken the proper safety precautions?

Make safety precautions a high priority, and don’t put yourself in the position of saying “if only…” If only I had worn safety glasses, I would not have a metal sliver in my eye. If only I hadn’t propped the airplane while it was parked on ice, I would not be asking you to sign my cast. If only I had bought a fire extinguisher, I would not be paying off the loan for a pile of molten metal.

 

Do I have the necessary technical data?

Always refer to appropriate maintenance manuals, inspection schedules, technical data, etc., while carrying out your maintenance tasks. No matter what, never rely on “…but I’ve done it a thousand times” to justify or replace current technical data. Always refer to the chapter dealing with standard maintenance procedures for a particular type of aircraft, engine, propeller, etc. Technical data should be readily accessible to your work area. Manuals that you don’t read are of no value.

 

Do I have the proper tools and equipment to perform the task?

Maintenance of Light Sport Aircraft requires a variety of basic tools. These include many common items that you may already have, such as a drill, a tape measure, files, and wrenches. Other tools might include a reamer for cleaning paint out of holes. Specialized tools are normally listed in the aircraft’s maintenance manual. Good tool safety practices require that you establish controls to account for tools. These may include shadow boards, foam cutouts in your toolbox, and a checklist.

 

Do I have the resources available to perform the task?

Before you start, ensure that you have the resources needed to complete the work. First, establish a list of general resources needed (consumables) such as oil, anti-freeze, safety wire, restraints, wire ties, small plastic bags for capturing small pieces, etc. Once you have all the general resources at hand, review the task and identify any additional special resources needed to complete the work. Not having all your resources available wastes time, and it also introduces risk when you have to stop a process for lack of proper resources. Using the Maintenance “Personal Minimums” Checklist will help you to more confidently answer the question, “Are you ready or not?”

Be safe, and have fun!!

 

Martin Bailey is an Aviation Safety Inspector with Flight Standards Service’s General Aviation and Avionics Branch.

   Your mechanic calls. He has found a crack in your airplane’s wing spar. Your first thought: “What is it going to cost?” His second comment, though, takes your thoughts from money to safety. He tells you that yours is the third aircraft he has found with the same crack in the spar, and one of them was near total failure. Now what?

     With this kind of pattern, your mechanic will want to contact an aviation safety inspector (ASI) at the local FAA Flight Standards District Office (FSDO) and report the concern. (Contact information for the appropriate FSDO is available via Internet at www.faa.gov/about/office_org/field_offices/fsdo.) Your mechanic should also submit a malfunction and defect report through FAA. These reports alert other owners and maintenance personnel of the safety issue.

     After your mechanic contacts FAA, the ASI will coordinate with the appropriate FAA engineer to evaluate the safety issue. The engineer will typically analyze the design details and the nature of the reported failure, research related service history, talk with the type certificate holder, and coordinate with other FAA engineers, specialists, and managers. The engineer’s evaluation includes conducting a risk assessment, considering items such as the safety impact of the reported condition, the type of aircraft involved, how the majority of those aircraft are used, and how often the condition has occurred in other aircraft of the same or similar type design. Based on this evaluation, the FAA will determine whether there is an unsafe condition that warrants issuing an airworthiness directive (AD).

     Once FAA determines that mandatory corrective action is necessary, the agency develops an AD that calls for appropriate actions and sets out timeframes for completing those actions. FAA strives to develop Ads that correct the unsafe condition without creating an undue burden for aircraft owners, operators, and pilots. Some safety issues require immediate correction, that is, repairs must be made before the aircraft flies again. Wherever appropriate, though, FAA develops actions and compliance times that allow for the required work and as little impact to your flying as the situation allows. Yet, there is simply no way to avoid the reality that Ads will affect both your flying schedule and checkbook. FAA works hard to develop corrective actions that address the unsafe condition without requiring more action than necessary.

     FAA also tries to write ADs in a way that makes the required action clear and completely understandable to those responsible for the work. This requires consulting pilots, maintenance specialists, technical writers, engineers, legal counsel, and others during development of the AD. FAA also works with the appropriate industry groups to ensure the availability of any parts, tools, or service instructions necessary to comply with the AD.

 

Different Types of ADs

     The nature of the unsafe condition and the urgency required to correct it determine the type of AD action that FAA takes. Normally, the agency issues a notice of proposed rulemaking (NPRM) followed by a final rule. NPRMs request public comments on the proposed action. After the comment period closes, FAA issues the final rule, taking into account all comments received.

     In certain cases, the critical nature of an unsafe condition and the need for timely corrective action may require issuing an AD in final rule form without first issuing an NPRM and allowing time for public comment. In these cases, the agency still provides an opportunity for public comment after AD issuance, and it may change the AD as a result of comments received.

     FAA issues an emergency AD when an unsafe condition exists that requires immediate corrective action. The intent of an emergency AD is to rapidly correct an immediate safety of flight situation. FAA recognizes that you may have information or ideas that had not been considered when developing an NPRM or an AD without a prior NPRM. FAA values the public’s input on these proposed or mandated actions and has used input in the past to change compliance times, inspection or maintenance actions, and other items from what was originally proposed or mandated. FAA encourages you to send any ideas or comments you may have about proposed or mandated actions, along with supporting data. Each NPRM or final rule (without prior NPRM) contains details on how to comment.

     To become aware of when the agency issues NPRMs or final rules that affect your airplane, you can monitor the Federal Register on the Internet at www.gpoaccess.gov/fr. Many airplane type clubs monitor the Federal Register and inform their members when an NPRM or final rule affecting their aircraft type has been issued.

     Once an AD affecting your aircraft takes effect, by regulation you can operate the aircraft only if it meets the requirements of the AD. Unless the condition is an immediate safety of flight concern, the AD will allow you to continue operating the aircraft for a specified amount of time before you must carry out the required actions.

 

Alternative Ways to Comply

     If your mechanic has a better way to address the unsafe condition cited in an AD, FAA does allow alternative methods to comply with an AD’s requirements. If you want to propose a different method or compliance time to address the safety issue, you can apply for an alternative method of compliance (AMOC). Submit the proposal through your principal inspector or local FSDO to the Aircraft Certification Office (ACO), which reviews and issues approval or denial. Include the specific actions you are proposing to address the unsafe condition, along with substantiating data. FAA will review your request and determine if the proposal addresses the unsafe condition.

 

Tausif Butt and David Hirt are aerospace engineers at FAA’s Small Airplane Directorate in Kansas City, Missouri.