PhotoPilot
New Member
After an intense and concentrated three weeks that have left me with just over the 35 hours required at a 141 school, I sucessfully completed my Private Practical yesterday! For those of you who are getting ready to take the test yourselves, here are my experiences and observations . . .
Note that the Oral was given on a Monday morning and the Flight was on a Tuesday afternoon.
In preparing for the oral, I scoured the Jepp Private Manual and the FAA AFM. If it was in the book, I wanted to know it. I used flashcards, the questions at the end of the chapters, rereading, and anything else I could think of to give me an edge.
I also had to prepare a flight plan for a cross-country given to me by the examiner the night before. I took extra time and tried to make sure I thought of everything I could before planning the flight. Though it wasn't the case, I assumed for the sake of planning that there was some little, easy to miss thing the examiner was trying to trip me with. I made sure that all NOTAMs, TFRs, forecasts, weather reports, field information, diversions, alternates, frequencies, weight and balance, density altitude, takeoff and landing distances, and navaids were considered and accessible as I made the plans. If something was potentially relevant to the flight, I made sure I knew what it was and what it required.
When the oral actually started, I wasn't too nervous because I had done a LOT of prepping. I felt confident that even if I didn't know the answer, I would be able to use the resources available to me to find it or figure it out. In reality, most of the questions posed were situational and not knowledge based. Being a long-time sea kayak guide, I used my past experiences to make judgements about the scenarios posed and answer the examiners questions to the best of my ability.
One of the most interesting things that I learned during the oral is that the examiner felt I was TOO cautious at times. He would give me a hypothetical situation and I would err on the side of safety and, for example, land at an uncontrolled airport rather than going fifteen miles further to a controlled surface with more available resources. He pointed out the importance of the difference between landing as soon as POSSIBLE and as soon as PRACTICAL. In a non-critical situation (inop alternator during a night flight was our example), there is no reason to not fly the extra 7 or 8 minutes to a controlled field. Manage the electrical load and go to the safest option, not always the closest.
I also had to point out that our cross-country flight would certainly not have left the ground. Not only was the weather at the destination well below VFR mins, but the ELT had been removed from the aircraft two days before (as noted in the weight and balance section of the POH). Uncooperative weather AND an unairworthy aircraft are a bad, bad combo.
Aside from the "too cautious" thing, the only other mistake I made was not knowing SVFR proceedures as well as I should have. After I got home, a quick look at the AIM cured those ills and I redeemed myself the following day before the flight.
Now, the flight was not quite as trouble free as the oral. We'd resecheduled from 7 am to 3 pm . . . a time when the dreaded thermals of Fresno are really kickin'. That didn't bother me too much, but was in the back of my mind as we preflighted. I should also mention that I should have updated the flight plan from the previous day to reflect our new "departure time" and the current winds aloft. We weren't actually flying the xc, but I think he would have liked to have seen that initiative.
We left FAT and moved east to the Academy practice area. On the way there, we discussed various things that I was doing in the flight - flow checks, navigational proceedures, traffic scaning, radios, etc. Nothing monumental. Once in the practice area, he told me to begin slow flight when ready. I achieved our maneuvering altitude, cleared the area, did a flow check, and began the maneuvers portion of the flight. Everything went well and I passed that section without trouble, though I had certainly done better in the past. I think that a combination of the thermals, obstruction turbulence and updrafts from the foothills, and nerves got to me. Usually I can hold altitude with in +/- 20 or 30 feet, but I was close to being 100 feet to HIGH a few times. That stressed me out and I started to cross reference the altimeter and VSI a lot, rather than keeping my eyes outside where they belonged.
That said, it was still a pretty good showing, I think. We did power on and off stalls, steep turns, basic maneuvers, hood work, unusual attitudes, slow flight, MCA, VOR tracking, and other PST stuff. Pretty standard, I guess.
When we did the engine out, forced landing proceedure, I trimmed to best glide speed (aviate), found a landing site (navigate), did a quick flow check and then busted out the emergency checklist (investigate), and simualted a mayday call (communicate). On the way down, when close to the first landing site, I decided that I had the height and time to achieve a better location. I altered direction slightly, hit the key points and announced at about 800 AGL that I was confident that the landing was assured and I was going to reapply power and climb before we were within 500 feet of the rural homes below. I think the combination of not fixating on a mediocre site when a better one presented itself and exercising PIC to avoid violating a FAR by declaring the maneuver to be over before he said it was reflected well on me.
Then came the crutch . . . We flew to the east of our diversion airport, did some ground reference maneuvers, and then were going to head in to Reedly to do shorts and softs. There was a Cessna who had just departed the pattern from 33 and was moving to the west (away from us) and a helicopter who was messing around on 15. The winds were favoring 33 and the chopper had given the Cessna priority and right-of-way on each approach, so I thought I would gain the same courtesy. Knowing the winds (as we had just finished the ground reference stuff), the traffic situation (Cessna departing, helicopter seemingly happy to make way), and being only a few miles from the threshold of 33, I called a straight in approach for 33.
Bad move. Though my instructor and I had done the same thing both at that airport and others, the examiner was quite unhappy with my decision. He informed me that not only should I have overflown to verify the wind and look for traffic without radio communications, but I also should not have assumed that the helicopter would make way for me as he did for the Cessna. At that time, another Cessna on the ground announced that they were preparing to takeoff on 15 as well. Rather than land against the traffic flow, I entered the left hand pattern for 15 on the downwind and approached for a shortfield.
The first go-around was because, coming through about 100 feet, I noticed that our flight path (a standard glide path) was going to send us, incredibly, right through a set of telephone poles. Not being sure if there were lines strung or not, I went around and looked to verify that they were buried where they crossed the approach path. They were. So, around we go for another shot at a short field. This time, my approach was stable, airspeed was good, but I couldn't get the plane to settle (remember that I'm not on the favored runway - I have a quartering tailwind but am moving with the traffic flow). After floating a ways, around we went again. This time I dump a few knots on short final, hit the pavement just past the numbers and stop in an acceptable distance. Taxi back for a short field takeoff, again on 15 with a tail wind but moving with the helicopter and closed-traffic Cessna, we take what feels like a year to get off the runway and into the air. Not bad, except for the tailwind . . .
On the way home, we compute groundspeed and do a soft field landing at good ol' FAT. All goes well and we taxi back to parking.
In the debrief, he restates his dissappointment with my decision to go straight in and with assuming that the helicopter would hear me on the radio and give way as he had earlier for the Cessna. He also felt that, knowing the wind favored 33 and not 15, I should have waited until everyone was on the ground or out of the pattern, then landed 33, or made a radio call to suggest a runway change to everyone who was active in the pattern. Landing an unfavorable runway for a short field was not a smart move . . .
Though frustrated with myself, I understood his points. My judgement and actions were those of a new pilot, and though I don't think I was reckless, I wasn't as safe and cool as I could have been. He passed me, saying that I am a good pilot, but I need to gain experience and learn from my errors. I was in agreement and happily took the pass. At this point, with only 37 hours, I realize that I made a mistake and could have shown better judgement, but I'm not sure just how grevious my errors were . . . but I'm guessing that the responses to this post will let me know!
So there you are. A good flight with a few goofs . . . I'm bummed and thrilled all at once!
Note that the Oral was given on a Monday morning and the Flight was on a Tuesday afternoon.
In preparing for the oral, I scoured the Jepp Private Manual and the FAA AFM. If it was in the book, I wanted to know it. I used flashcards, the questions at the end of the chapters, rereading, and anything else I could think of to give me an edge.
I also had to prepare a flight plan for a cross-country given to me by the examiner the night before. I took extra time and tried to make sure I thought of everything I could before planning the flight. Though it wasn't the case, I assumed for the sake of planning that there was some little, easy to miss thing the examiner was trying to trip me with. I made sure that all NOTAMs, TFRs, forecasts, weather reports, field information, diversions, alternates, frequencies, weight and balance, density altitude, takeoff and landing distances, and navaids were considered and accessible as I made the plans. If something was potentially relevant to the flight, I made sure I knew what it was and what it required.
When the oral actually started, I wasn't too nervous because I had done a LOT of prepping. I felt confident that even if I didn't know the answer, I would be able to use the resources available to me to find it or figure it out. In reality, most of the questions posed were situational and not knowledge based. Being a long-time sea kayak guide, I used my past experiences to make judgements about the scenarios posed and answer the examiners questions to the best of my ability.
One of the most interesting things that I learned during the oral is that the examiner felt I was TOO cautious at times. He would give me a hypothetical situation and I would err on the side of safety and, for example, land at an uncontrolled airport rather than going fifteen miles further to a controlled surface with more available resources. He pointed out the importance of the difference between landing as soon as POSSIBLE and as soon as PRACTICAL. In a non-critical situation (inop alternator during a night flight was our example), there is no reason to not fly the extra 7 or 8 minutes to a controlled field. Manage the electrical load and go to the safest option, not always the closest.
I also had to point out that our cross-country flight would certainly not have left the ground. Not only was the weather at the destination well below VFR mins, but the ELT had been removed from the aircraft two days before (as noted in the weight and balance section of the POH). Uncooperative weather AND an unairworthy aircraft are a bad, bad combo.
Aside from the "too cautious" thing, the only other mistake I made was not knowing SVFR proceedures as well as I should have. After I got home, a quick look at the AIM cured those ills and I redeemed myself the following day before the flight.
Now, the flight was not quite as trouble free as the oral. We'd resecheduled from 7 am to 3 pm . . . a time when the dreaded thermals of Fresno are really kickin'. That didn't bother me too much, but was in the back of my mind as we preflighted. I should also mention that I should have updated the flight plan from the previous day to reflect our new "departure time" and the current winds aloft. We weren't actually flying the xc, but I think he would have liked to have seen that initiative.
We left FAT and moved east to the Academy practice area. On the way there, we discussed various things that I was doing in the flight - flow checks, navigational proceedures, traffic scaning, radios, etc. Nothing monumental. Once in the practice area, he told me to begin slow flight when ready. I achieved our maneuvering altitude, cleared the area, did a flow check, and began the maneuvers portion of the flight. Everything went well and I passed that section without trouble, though I had certainly done better in the past. I think that a combination of the thermals, obstruction turbulence and updrafts from the foothills, and nerves got to me. Usually I can hold altitude with in +/- 20 or 30 feet, but I was close to being 100 feet to HIGH a few times. That stressed me out and I started to cross reference the altimeter and VSI a lot, rather than keeping my eyes outside where they belonged.
That said, it was still a pretty good showing, I think. We did power on and off stalls, steep turns, basic maneuvers, hood work, unusual attitudes, slow flight, MCA, VOR tracking, and other PST stuff. Pretty standard, I guess.
When we did the engine out, forced landing proceedure, I trimmed to best glide speed (aviate), found a landing site (navigate), did a quick flow check and then busted out the emergency checklist (investigate), and simualted a mayday call (communicate). On the way down, when close to the first landing site, I decided that I had the height and time to achieve a better location. I altered direction slightly, hit the key points and announced at about 800 AGL that I was confident that the landing was assured and I was going to reapply power and climb before we were within 500 feet of the rural homes below. I think the combination of not fixating on a mediocre site when a better one presented itself and exercising PIC to avoid violating a FAR by declaring the maneuver to be over before he said it was reflected well on me.
Then came the crutch . . . We flew to the east of our diversion airport, did some ground reference maneuvers, and then were going to head in to Reedly to do shorts and softs. There was a Cessna who had just departed the pattern from 33 and was moving to the west (away from us) and a helicopter who was messing around on 15. The winds were favoring 33 and the chopper had given the Cessna priority and right-of-way on each approach, so I thought I would gain the same courtesy. Knowing the winds (as we had just finished the ground reference stuff), the traffic situation (Cessna departing, helicopter seemingly happy to make way), and being only a few miles from the threshold of 33, I called a straight in approach for 33.
Bad move. Though my instructor and I had done the same thing both at that airport and others, the examiner was quite unhappy with my decision. He informed me that not only should I have overflown to verify the wind and look for traffic without radio communications, but I also should not have assumed that the helicopter would make way for me as he did for the Cessna. At that time, another Cessna on the ground announced that they were preparing to takeoff on 15 as well. Rather than land against the traffic flow, I entered the left hand pattern for 15 on the downwind and approached for a shortfield.
The first go-around was because, coming through about 100 feet, I noticed that our flight path (a standard glide path) was going to send us, incredibly, right through a set of telephone poles. Not being sure if there were lines strung or not, I went around and looked to verify that they were buried where they crossed the approach path. They were. So, around we go for another shot at a short field. This time, my approach was stable, airspeed was good, but I couldn't get the plane to settle (remember that I'm not on the favored runway - I have a quartering tailwind but am moving with the traffic flow). After floating a ways, around we went again. This time I dump a few knots on short final, hit the pavement just past the numbers and stop in an acceptable distance. Taxi back for a short field takeoff, again on 15 with a tail wind but moving with the helicopter and closed-traffic Cessna, we take what feels like a year to get off the runway and into the air. Not bad, except for the tailwind . . .
On the way home, we compute groundspeed and do a soft field landing at good ol' FAT. All goes well and we taxi back to parking.
In the debrief, he restates his dissappointment with my decision to go straight in and with assuming that the helicopter would hear me on the radio and give way as he had earlier for the Cessna. He also felt that, knowing the wind favored 33 and not 15, I should have waited until everyone was on the ground or out of the pattern, then landed 33, or made a radio call to suggest a runway change to everyone who was active in the pattern. Landing an unfavorable runway for a short field was not a smart move . . .
Though frustrated with myself, I understood his points. My judgement and actions were those of a new pilot, and though I don't think I was reckless, I wasn't as safe and cool as I could have been. He passed me, saying that I am a good pilot, but I need to gain experience and learn from my errors. I was in agreement and happily took the pass. At this point, with only 37 hours, I realize that I made a mistake and could have shown better judgement, but I'm not sure just how grevious my errors were . . . but I'm guessing that the responses to this post will let me know!
So there you are. A good flight with a few goofs . . . I'm bummed and thrilled all at once!