This morning was spent reviewing the Seminole's performance charts, which help the pilot calculate take-off and landing distances in various atmospheric and loading conditions as well as accelerate-stop distance in the event of an engine failure on the runway. We also discussed what to do if an engine were to quit at various times during flight operations.
After a quick weight and balance problem, it was on to simulator training.
Like many other sims, this one -- a Frasca -- is very twitchy and pitch sensitive and requires some finesse to control. It's not so much designed to teach a student how to fly the plane but rather to practice procedures and flows and get familiarized with the cockpit.
I was a little concerned about flying it but got a feel for it within minutes. Flying it in IMC will be a different story altogether, however.
After going through the engine start procedures, we began flight maneuvers with steep turns, which presented no problems. Then came slow flight, which while simple in the 172 proved a little trickier in the sim since I'd never flown a variable-pitch constant-speed propeller plane before. While the workload involved isn't much greater than that of flying a fixed-pitch aircraft, it takes some time to get adjusted to monitoring both an RPM and manifold pressure gauge and moving an extra set of levers to set the angle of the propeller blades. Oh, and of course because in addition to it the Seminole is a twin, I am now responsible for not one engine control lever (or two including the mixture) but four (two throttles, two prop controls) or six, including the mixture control.
But with time, I began to get the hang of moving the levers together and matching performance on both engines. We did a couple of stalls, which are simple maneuvers but had me fall behind on the list of procedures established by the school.
Next up was Vmc demo, which involves simulating an engine failure by pulling back the throttle and slowing the airplane to the speed at which directional control is lost. (Vmc is the minimum speed at which directional control is maintained with the critical engine failed). Again, the maneuver is in and of itself reasonably simple but while I wrestled the sim I found myself forgetting the various steps involved.
After three or four demos, I was doing ok. As mentioned above, the exercise consists of simulating a failure of the left engine by retarting the throttle. Right rudder must then be applied to counter left-turning forces and a gentle bank into the operating engine is called for to achieve a zero sideslip condition, thereby reducing drag from the fuselage flying cock-eyed into the relative wind.
Pitch is increased and as the airspeed drops, more rudder is needed to maintain heading and foiling the aircraft's nasty plans to roll into the dead engine. Quite interesting and definitely challenging. I wonder what it'll be like in the plane.
After that, the instructor let me fly straight and level for a while. When I asked what we were doing, he simply replied "We're cruisin'."
Something was amiss, for sure.
A second later, the plane rolled and yawed left. Engine failure.
Emergency checklist: maintain directional control, mixtures, props, throttles full forward, flaps and gear up, identify the failed engine, verify by pulling back the throttle (a change in performance would obviously indicate that the wrong engine is about to be shut down). Since we were above 3,000 AGL, I decided to troubleshoot the failure, but to no avail so opted to feather and secure the dead engine.
Once all the checklists were complete, we did an air restart and called it a day.
My slowness in flowing through the procedures for each maneuver frustrated me, so I'm memorizing those and running through the flows by "chair-flying" them in front of a poster of the Seminole's cockpit tonight. I also ran through the checklists from start-up to shutdown to become more familiar with them and my night will end with more reading from the aircraft's POH, which is turning out to be quite a fascinating book!

Tomorrow: Sim in the morning and finally, weather allowing, a couple of hours in the Seminole to practice maneuvers.
Woohoo!

Update: My multi-engine checkride, originally scheduled for next Tuesday, might be moved up to Saturday. And to add to the excitement there might be an FAA inspector in the back, who will be recertifying the examiner giving me the exam. I don't know what to think of that, although on the upside the checkride would be free...

Busy is the word of the day.
Set off for the airport in the thickest fog I have seen in a while early this morning and after some paperwork it was time for ground school on critical engine, Vmc and the Piper Seminole's systems.
In a nutshell, the critical engine in a twin prop-driven airplane is the one which, were it to fail, would impact handling the most. While the Seminole has no critical engine because of its counter-rotating props, it typically is the left engine on other aircraft because of a variety of reasons (P-factor, accelerated slipstream, spiraling slipstream and torque). What that means, is that if the left engine were to quit the plane's tendency to roll and yaw into the dead engine would be worst than if the right one died.
Vmc, the second topic of today's study, is the minimum speed at which directional control of the aircraft can be maintained with the critical engine windmilling. Again, a whole panoply of factors come into play to determine Vmc and whether it's high or low. On the Seminole, it remains pretty low even in the worst of scenarios (in standard conditions at sea level with the inop engine windmilling, the least favorable weight and center of gravity, flaps and gear up, full power in the operating engine and in a zero-slip situation) but on more powerful twins like the Baron and King Air it can be a killer in a hurry.
In addition to learning to fly the Seminole, the multi-engine rating will focus heavily on emergencies, more particularly failed engines. The brief introduction to this reminded me of a friend of mine who had a close call in his checks flying days when the left engine on the beat up old Seneca died after take-off in the soup.
The weather was down to minimums and in the process of returning to the airport to land, he forgot to hit the suicide switch, which selects either GPS or radio navigation course guidance on the flight instruments. That meant that he wasn't where he thought he was on the approach.
There's a reason they call it the suicide switch...
He quickly caught his mistake, got back on the final approach course and landed safely, all on one engine. Luck was on his side as he couldn't maintain altitude and was surrounded by terrain.
I gained a lot of perspective today!
Much of this is new to me, although I've been studying the basics for a few months so it has been a fascinating and very rewarding day. After my instructor and I went over the basics, I came "home" to study those topics more and learn flows, checklists and procedures. There's A LOT of information in my brain right now and I feel it buzzing.
What a tremendous feeling.
Tomorrow: more ground and sim. Weather allowing, I should go up in the Seminole on Wednesday.
Now off to sleep...

After a busy week and a 9.5 hours drive, here I am in Virginia, a short night's sleep away from beginning training.
It's been a long week and a long few months spent planning this career change and studying. Now the journey is about to begin. In typical aviation style, tomorrow will begin with a stack of paperwork after which my instructor and I will start multi-engine training in preparation for the checkride tentatively scheduled for Feb. 7.
Before I pack it in for the night, I'll go over the Seminole's POH again and run through the school's flows and emergency procedures, which I'm expected to be more than familiar with.
Excitement is a weak word to describe how I feel. Ahead of me lay hours spent in that beautiful sky, a lot of learning and most likely good friendships. Already, I've met my roomate, a very nice young guy about to take his double I and commercial single add-on and one of the school's instructors, who also appears to be a first-class sorta fellow.
I'd be lying, though, if I didn't admit to feeling sad. Two hours ago, I dropped Jen off at BWI where she boarded a flight home and I miss her terribly already. She's been there every minute of my dreaming this new life, planning it and has shown nothing but excitement, enthusiasm and most importantly patience and support. Few women, I'm sure, would put up with as much aviation babble as I'm capable of spewing out, so she truly is one of a kind and I am a very lucky man (OK, man child.)
Not having her by my side for the next few months will be, without a doubt, the hardest part of my training.

I've always been quite disorganized so the way this week has shaped up has come with little surprise. Once more, I've tried to pack in five days more than they can actually handle and am having one of those weeks...

Monday: after a glorious morning spent shovelling heavy snow, have an interesting drive in pretty slippery roads to very rural Massachusetts, where I was told I'd find a friendly and more importantly cheap AME. After some maneuvering around snow-packed country roads, I find the mysterious man and, as promised, he turns out to be both. Respectable 73-year old doctor with a true passion for aviation and an outgoing demeanor.
Form and pee cup filled, so off to his office I go. He shakes my hand and proceeds to tell me that he is about to divorce this crazed woman with a violent penchant -- his third wife and Episcopalian priest -- who proclaims she hates him. Fair enough. The story goes on and is punctuated here and there with the actual examination. Half-an-hour later, as we head over to the eye test machine, he explains to me that he doesn't much care for substantial women but that his second wife has apparently lost quite a bit of weight and has been inquiring about him lately. This goes on for while, followed by his admission to being an anarchist and a rather lenghty discussion about how he considers himself a resident alien of the United States since, he says, the Constitution says the Federal Government has no jurisdiction over individual states. Right. Finally, after about an hour he hands me my First Class.
All in all, a very good experience and he is a brilliant guy but all this could've been done in 10 minutes.
On the way home, I of course manage to get lost and go 10 miles in the wrong direction, wasting more valuable time slotted to study for my Commercial written.

Tuesday: I actually get some studying in, but pay little attention to laundry, packing and general planning for Saturday's departure (and 8-hour drive to Manassas). Hey, I've got another couple of days, right? Like that's never cost me before. Dinner with Jen and my stepdaughter Emily at a nice Italian restaurant. Substantial amounts of food and a much too tasty San Giovese mean little work done in the evening. Get drowsy.

Wednesday: Rush to the Irish Consulate to pick up my new passport then race 30 miles away to one of two dentist appointments this week. Debilitating experience, spend much of the afternoon recovering. Study for a little bit. Realize I've just run out of checks. Good timing! Waste valuable time writing this...

Second dentist appointment is tomorrow, Thursday, followed by studying and dinner with Jen's family.

Friday: commercial written in the morning, followed by coffee and a flight with fellow blogger Scottie (Yellowbird) then a mad dash home to pack (Jesus, almost forgot about that!) before drinks with my bro in law and then on to a farewell dinner with friends. Should be an interesting day.

I really have got to grow up...

At about 17:30 yesterday, I logged off my work computer and left the building for the last time.
For the past year I've thought about that moment and wondered how it would feel. A certain sense of relief would no doubt be part of the cocktail of emotions as well as happiness and excitement about turning a new page.
And yet I found myself carrying just a hint of sadness in my heart. Not a single ounce of regret but certainly a little nostalgia, knowing that that was the last day of the past five and a half years of my life. The previous day had been spent printing a number of stories I wrote in that period, a lengthy process that brought back some very good memories indeed and made me feel good about my time at the company.
As Friday drew to a close, I hit the button on my keyboard, gathered my stuff, shook a few hands and headed out into the evening, where friends awaited at a nearby bar. The walk there afforded me a few minutes to ponder the moment and I found myself smiling. I felt like a kid with a whole bright new future ahead, opportunities and adventures that would take me far away from the darker days of my now previous career.
When that screen went dark and silent, it took with it the bad memories and locked them all away.
I pushed open the door to the pub and for the first time in a while had a head full of only the good times behind and anticipation for those ahead.
A week from today it'll be here. I'll miss my wife tremendously, it won't be easy but we're sure of this decision.
Here I go...

I'm not superstitious.
OK, maybe just a tad bit. After all, I made a point of avoiding Friday Jan. 13 as the last day at work and the first of my new career in aviation.
Since then, good omens have cropped up. On Saturday, for instance, Jen and I stopped by Blockbuster to pick up a movie. On the way in, the took a free newspaper from a rack at the door. On the front page was a story about airlines entering a hiring boom. Good, I though as I read through it.
Then today at work, as I ran downstairs for a bite to eat, a television in the elevator flashed a headline hinting at brighter days for the airlines. Intrigued, I searched for the full story when I returned to my desk.
And here is what I found.

Could airlines wing way to profitability in 2006?