Am I missing something?

We've had our first snow fall here today in the Boston area. It's actually been coming down for about three hours now, leading me to wonder just where our typically gorgeous Indian Summer's gone. Am I missing something? It seems like we went from the late days of summer to a series of rainy weeks as the area was swept by the remnants of tropical storms to, well, this...




The weather report is calling for 60F and clear tomorrow. Perhaps my long-awaited foliage flight will finally happen... if the recent heavy winds, rain and snow have left any, that is.

Come Fly With Me...

One of the greatest thrills for any freshly-minted pilot has to be that of taking passengers flying. While you are allowed to set off alone before passing your checkride, you cannot legally act as pilot in command with people onboard unless you have earned your license.
Fittingly, my very first passenger was Jen, my girlfriend at the time and now wonderful wife. We met shortly after I earned my private license and within weeks she agreed to join me for a flight. Oddly enough, I seemed more nervous about the experience than she did when we met at the airport. As we walked out onto the ramp, however, she grew a little tense.
Then she saw the plane: trusty old 4791G, a 1973 Cessna 172N for which I have much affection since she safely accompanied me on my very first cross-country and helped me through my checkride.
"Hmm, I'm supposed to get into this," Jen asked, pointing at the old bird.
I assured her 91G was a very safe airplane, the best of the older fleet of 172s at my FBO.
We hopped in after preflighting and I walked Jen through the passenger briefing, which includes proper use of seatbelts, emergency procedures and a gentle "don't touch anything, and if you're going to touch anything don't pull on this red knob."
As we taxied out to Hanscom's runway 29, I walked her through our flight, a simple out and back to the Wachuset Reservoir 15nm away, and reminded her that if she felt uncomfortable we could turn around and land.
A thourough run-up later, we were barrelling down the runway and I was as excited as a child on Christmas morning. This moment was very special for me and I hoped it would be for Jen too.
Seconds after rotating, I glanced at her quickly to see how she was doing. Her hands were both clenching the door with a death grip. Busy with take-off, I focused on my duties but soon heard a wonderful "Wow! This is awesome!" coming from the right seat.
As we passed through 400ft, my special passenger was afforded a breathtaking view of the New England foliage on a perfect flying day with no winds and clear skies. Knowing she was now enjoying the view, I relaxed too and leveled off at 2,500. Being a Boston-area native, she began to pick out landmarks with great enthusiasm as we headed to the reservoir, where I descended to 1,000 AGL and circled islands that seemed to be on fire with the bright red and orange foliage amid tranquil and glassy waters.
Half-an-hour later, we headed back to Bedford where the controller advised me we had two F-16s in the pattern for 29. I set up on a left base for runway 5, which took us over a beautiful meandering river that glistened in the rich orange glow of the setting sun. As I rolled out on final, the fighter jets were instructed to hold on the left side of 5. With their canopies open, both pilots sat in the formidable machines and watched us come in. The pressure to make the perfect landing was truly there, and our touchdown was thankfully soft and on the centerline. I turned off at the first exit and the F-16s followed behind us, their powerful jet engines whisteling.
I couldn't have asked for a more perfect first passenger flight.
After that, Jen began flying regularly with me and we have since travelled together to Laconia, NH (KLCI), Martha's Vineyard (KMVY) and other spots in Maine and Connecticut. She's one brave woman, having even come up with me in beaten-up 80725 for emergency descents and steep turns on her third flight and sat in the backseat on one of my instrument lessons during which we practiced slow flight, stalls and unusual attitudes.
Since then, I've had the privilege of taking her sister Laura, an aspiring private pilot, up before she began training, my stepdaughter Emily, both my brothers and the girlfriend of one of them, my cousin and her apprehensive roomate and a friend of mine currently working toward his ticket.
In every case, the nervous flyers relaxed and thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful New England landscapes and the only minor mishap was my motion-sickness prone brother Stephen -- an aviation nut -- getting ill during a flight on a very warm day.
Each experience was extremely rewarding for me and a learning one too. For instance, I was dying to take my brothers up flying and the day I'd booked turned out to be quite hazy, casting doubt on whether we'd get to complete our flight to Martha's Vineyard.
The weather reports called for VFR conditions but immediately after take-off I realized visibility was down to about 3 miles, not condusive at all to any kind of sightseeing flying and certainly not conditions I would be willing to risk my brothers lives in. So I called tower, re-entered the pattern, landed and with great sadness tied the plane down.
While all pilots in training read and are told about "get-there-itis" -- the potentially dangerous tendency to take risks to make it somewhere at all costs -- I'd often wondered whether I'd ever fall victim to it. With every report of a downed plane due to negligence on the pilot's part, such as launching into unfavorable conditions, I'd shake my head and ask myself why he or she had not just scrubbed the flight instead of chancing it. But then I'd question my own judgement. Could I be pressured by a burning desire to get there? Of course I could, like any other pilot.
But while I'd been looking forward to this flight to KMVY with my brothers for weeks I quickly decided that the risk wasn't worth it, especially if the haze were to thicken any further, which was a distinct possibility.
A few days later, on a much clearer day, I finally got my chance to take Stephen and his girlfriend Jo up and even let her make a few shallow turns.
When she exclaimed "I'm flying! I'm flying the plane!" I smiled and felt happy that I could share my passion for flying with others.

Why I Fly, Part 2

I've been thinking for a little while about a second installment to Why I Fly and my mind was flooded with beautiful memories of endless coastlines, rolling hills, fields, shimmering lakes and incandescent sunsets from that very special vantage point that we pilots have the luxury and privilege to enjoy.
My lacking writing skills would only diminish the awesome beauty of those sights and since , as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, I will let a series of photographs do the talking. Enjoy the trip, which will take us from the Boston area to Maine and New Hampshire and back home in the most blazing sky I remember.

* * *

Well, as you can see here, things can get pretty hectic at airports and while you are dying to get up there (While My Hobbs Gently Ticks) and enjoy the world from the air, you're stuck in traffic on the ground.

But once you lift off, your patience is greatly rewarded. This shot was taken during my second solo cross-country, which on August 25, 2004 took me from Bedford, MA to Portland ME, Portsmouth, NH and back home. Here I am alone at 5,500 with beautiful skies all along my route and a full day of fun ahead of me.



Passing KPSM, I take a minute to enjoy the beautiful view of the estuary flanking the town of Portsmouth, NH.

Following an uneventful landing in Portland, I head back South, abandoning radio navigation to skirt the coast of Maine.


These next shots were snapped on Nov. 20, 2004, the day of my very first cross-country with Jen to Laconia, NH (KLCI) for the proverbial $100 burger. Here we are on a long straight-in for Runway 8 at the beautiful little airport by Lake Winnipesaukee.


After lunch with fellow pilot blogger Scotty (Yellowbird), Jen and I launch off in the afternoon skies, which darkened considerably. The views, however, remained stunning. This is looking North over Lake Winnipesaukee.


And to the East...


A snow-capped Mount Washington to our North.


I'd like to say I took the next three pictures on our way home from Laconia, but instead we were greeted by rapidly dropping ceilings and visibility. No, the next shots I took while I went up alone one night the following week. No words can even come close to how beautiful the views are, so here they are. The images I have in my mind of that evening are a thousand times more beautiful. There's really nothing quite like a sunset seen from the sky.

This is exactly why I fly!

The joys of paperwork

I've finally selected a start date for ATP: January 30, 2006. I couldn't be more excited and am eagerly counting down the days, but before D-day is set in stone I have mounds of paperwork to fill in and several hurdles to clear, not least of which is that of getting government authorization to begin my curriculum.
As a citizen of the greenest island in the Western world, I am required to clear any flight training with the kind folks at TSA, the Transport Security Administration. The agency ultimately has final say in whether "aliens" can pursue flight instruction. The new rule, which went into effect in late 2004, was not a factor when I began training for my private license. When time came to begin instrument training, however, I had to ask TSA for permission. The process was all in all painless. After filling out an exhaustive online application and paying the $130 fee, I went to my local police station to get fingerprinted and passed the cards on to Washington, where they completed my application. Three weeks later, an email from TSA allowed me to begin training.
Now, with my plans etched, I have to go through the process again. This time around, however, I'm a little more nervous about it because my entire future at ATP and beyond is contingent on TSA (ditto final enrollment at the school, closing the loan etc...) and, well, bureaucracies have been known to screw up.
My worries are anchored in the recent troubles experienced by an "alien" pilot in my neck of the woods.
Robert Gray, a British citizen born in Belfast, has been a C402 captain for Cape Air for four years and as such holds an ATP. The bulk of his training took place here, in the United States, where he has been living since 1993, flying commercially for seven years and is about to get married to an American citizen.
In November of last year, Gray, 35, was offered a job at Executive Fliteways, a private air charter company based in New York and submitted an application to TSA to receive training on the company's jets. Three months later, a TSA official sent Gray an email reading "based upon materials available to TSA, I have determined that you pose a threat to aviation or national security." No further explanation was provided to Gray, but he noticed that the agency had categorized him as Hispanic and had left out his two middle names, leading him to believe this was a case of mistaken identity.
Fliteways subsequently withdrew their job offer and Gray filed a lawsuit against the agency seeking reversal of the ruling.
To make matters worse, TSA in September put Gray on its no-fly list, basically grounding him and ending his career at Cape Air. His lawyers called it retaliation for the lawsuit, but TSA denied it was.
Now, there's obviously a lot I don't know about this specific situation and perhaps TSA's decision is grounded in solid facts. However, if the agency is indeed wrong, the case should be a serious source of concern for us foreigners, the vast majority of whom mean no harm at all to anyone. This guy clearly paid his dues over the years and I have to wonder just what the government's decision was based on. If it is an error, which is entirely possible since TSA has to sift through 35,000 such applications every year, one has to wonder why there is little willingness to right the wrong.
Again, based on my previous experience with TSA, the process can be easy, fast and painless but one can't help to worry, especially when enrollement and financing are dependent on the process working effectively. Stay tuned for an update...
Hmmm.... paperwork... arghhhhhhhhhh.

Inkaahsions

Or without the Boston accent: incursions. Runway incursions to be more precise.
Boston's Logan Airport has had 16 of them since October of last year, a number that has many around these parts increasingly worried about safety.
The latest took place on Tuesday morning around 0815 when an American Eagle ERJ-135 landed and was told to cross 4L, hold short of 15R and remain on the tower frequency. The pilot read back only part of the instructions, omitting the crucial hold short order. He then switched to ground and received taxi instructions that included crossing 15R.
The American Airlines MD-82 at the approach end of the runway would hold, ground assured the crew. The tower controller, however, expecting the ERJ would hold short as instructed, had already cleared the mad dog for take off and sure enough that crew had begun its roll.
Seeing the RJ about to cross 15R, the controller tried to contact the crew with no luck since they had already switched frequencies. He immediately cancelled AA's take-off clearance and the pilots of the MD-82 aborted their departure.
The aircraft, according to the FAA, came within 1,700 ft of each other. Yet, the Boston Globe (whose story contained a couple of minor mistakes) quotes someone familiar with the investigation saying they in fact were less than 1,000 ft apart.
First of all, kudos to the tower controller for promptly reacting and avoiding a collision.
While it might be a little early to assigne blame, the FAA said it was looking at both operational errors (the ground controller clearing the American Eagle flight across 15R) and pilot deviation (the RJ's crew failing to remain on with tower as instructed).
The alarming number of runway incursions boggles the mind. In August, the FAA and MassPort, which operates Logan, called a last-minute press conference following a couple of close calls. The local administrator attempted to reassure people about safety at Logan and said measures to reduce incursions were being evaluated. Those included a so-called runway status lighting system, much akin to traffic lights. The system is apparently being test at DFW and as I understand it flashes crews green or red lights based on activity picked up by sensors on taxiways and runways.
NTSB has also chimed in, making its own set of recommendations to the FAA. Among them, an NTSB official told me a few weeks ago, would be a ground version of TCAS and possilby a GPS moving map that would indicate all surface traffic. While both sound like great solutions to increase situational awareness, who's going to foot the bill? Not the airlines. Most likely not the FAA.
I wonder what could be done NOW, in the short-run, because in spite of so many incursions over such a short period of time, little progress is visible.
Granted, Logan is one mess of an airport. Don't get me wrong, I think it's a great landmark, I love flying in and out of there and the approaches are very scenic with the Ocean and the skyline nearby. It's also an extremely convenient airport, only 10 minutes to downtown if traffic cooperates.
But take a quick glance at the field's diagram (http://www.myairplane.com/databases/NightCharts/pdfs/00058AD.PDF) and you'll see that it has an amazingly complex layout.
Some taxiways are so short between runways (especially the 4s), a Boston controller told me, that it is extremely easy to exit one and run across the paralel without even knowing it. Last week, a FedEx jet had to abort its take-off when a twin-prop got on the runway.
In August, a FedEx A300 being taxied to the maintenance hangars by a mechanic also crossed an active runway, forcing a Jet Blue flight to abort its take-off.
In a far closer call in June, a US Airways 737 and an Aer Lingus A330 came within 170 feet of each other on take-off. That was blamed on a controller who, I believe, was summarily suspended. It's getting pretty scary and to add to it all, Logan is building a new runway! I hope MassPort and the FAA can work something out because that beautiful airport is getting a really bad name.
Ain't she a beauty?

How flying changes people

I don't have to sell any of you pilot readers on the beauty of flying, but this next story has convinced a few non-flyers that getting aloft is often about more than just getting from one point to another. Here is what I posted on an aviation message board in June of 2004 after a commercial flight back from Atlanta. Flying is pure magic.

I was sitting on a 767 homebound to Boston last night, stewing over the two passangers behind me. They were loud, obnoxious and quite crude, deriving much amusement from the video of the pretty blonde flight attendant inflating her life jacket using the mouth tube.
My hopes for badly needed sleep after a full weekend of fun were dashed and many around shot them angry looks, shook their heads in consternation and sighed in obvious discontent.
But half-an-hour from Logan, the two bozos were suddenly tranformed from Vodka-drinking rowdies with a penchant for the easy sexual connotation to utterly amazed children.
And all it took was a sunset seen from 20,000 feet.
'That's the phatest thing I've ever seen,' said the big guy. (For your older folks, Phat means cool these days... go figure).
'It's gorgeous,' his tank-top wearing sidekick replied in a thick Boston accent.
They just sat there, in perfect silence, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon in a thick orange fluid.
Tank-top's face was transformed and you could see in his eyes that this was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring sight he had ever caught.
When the tip of the sun finally disappeared, they let out a simultaneous 'Wow.'
'Phatest sunset, dude. Totally awesome.'
'You're a poet man,' tank-top teased.
As we dipped lower, they began pointing out landmarks to each other and were completely enthralled by a meandering river.
'Looks like a snake, and look, there's its head,' tank top said excitedly, shaking big guy's shoulder, who had a broad childlike smile painted on his face.
At a few thousand feet, the pilot began his final approach over the ocean.
'Wow, it looks like the wing is going to touch the water,' one said excitedly.
They were almost holding each other.
Only flying could turn Cromagnons into dreamy kids. I almost felt like offering them to come and fly with me since they loved it so much.
We are a lucky bunch, people!