I generally avoid talking about work on the blog, but I am rather proud of a project I worked on for my new employer SELEX Systems Integration (with whom I started in March 2010). Below is the most recent press release.
ADS-B Press Release – 31 Jan 2011

Today I am studying for a test. I swore up and down when I finished graduate studies that I would never take another exam. . .

You see that smile – there is a REASON I’m smiling. No more studying.

But to say that preparing for the FAA written exam is the same as some of the quizzes and tests I took on statistical modeling is a bit of a misrepresentation. Enrolling in a ground school course to assist in preparation for the written exam is more akin to enrolling in a course of study at a culinary institute. In both cooking and flying, even a few missteps could result in undesirable – perhaps dire – consequences. You really want to understand the material so as to properly execute.

As I mentioned in an earlier post:
The FAA “written” examination is a test on flight rules and regulations, as well as the details of a hypothetical flight. . . . The FAA provides some online resources for study and review.
But let’s face it. I needed a classroom environment to force me to study. So when a chance email floated into my inbox in May about GAMA offering a ground school course a few blocks from my office, I jumped on it. I even made my husband sign up with me. I reasoned that it would do him good (aren’t I a considerate wife), and bring us closer . . . and I really wanted a well-informed copilot.

GAMA (General Aviation Manufacturers Association) has offices at 1400 and K Streets, NW in DC, and Bob Hepp, Chief Flight Instructor at Aviation Adventures, is teaching the course. The genius of this is that busy working professionals can take this course without having to leave work in DC at 3 p.m. to beat traffic out to the closest flight school. Here is a sampling of what we cover.

Discovering Aviation, Airplane Systems

Reagan Airport Tower Tour
I know, I know. You probably can hardly contain your excitement. I know I can’t.

Frankly, I’ve really enjoyed the classes. Much to my surprise, we have an a pretty diverse mix within our class –a fairly even split of men and women, as well as an age range that spans early 20’s to early 70’s. We have a technician from Hanscomb, several folks from different association (AOPA, GAMA, NATA), and a Congressman serving his last term (Vern Ehlers). Of the group of about 18, only my husband and I have worked directly with the FAA. The mix of industry, legislation, and federal agency created some lively conversation during our discussion of the SFRA!

We have the coming week off, and I’m preparing for our mid-term test. First up, typing up notes, next reviewing my FAR/AIM (which we ripped through in a 3-hour class, and I know have culled into several necessary high-lighted sections), and finally creating flashcards. I hope my studies pay off!

It’s true. I haven’t flown in months. Make that 6 months. It’s embarrassing and frustrating. The last time I went up was a cold and bright Saturday in December. I was going to learn about flying in cross-winds. Never mind that it was a perfect day, with limited wind, we were going to simulate maneuvers. Just as we took off, and prepared to enter the pattern, the tower called to us and reported not picking up our squawk (transponder signal). My instructor took the controls and tried moving the plane around (to try to catch the radar signal), as well as turning the transponder on and off. No luck: the transponder wasn’t functioning, and we had to return to the ground. And that’s where I’ve stayed.

Not that I haven’t tried. Several times I tried to get out to HEF for a lesson in April and May, but cancelled each time because I was too fatigued, and it was too difficult to get out to the airport because of traffic.

But my best attempts to fit in flying were probably in Saint Martin’s. My husband and I went on vacation the last week of May with a large group of friends. We spent a lot of time on the beach. It was tough, but we managed to fit time in the two pools of the gorgeous villas we rented.

And, of course, I visited the local airport, to try to get a flight lesson in.

St. Martin/St. Maarten is an island that is both French and Dutch. The Dutch side boasts the international arrivals airport. There is also a terrific beach (Sunset Beach), where you can see the plane’s final approach to the airport. Sunset Beach also has a bar where topless women drink free. Note: I didn’t drink free.

The French side has a small flight school. I tried emailing and calling the school to no avail, so drove there with my husband and two other aviation crazy friends. After parking in the smallish parking lot, we walked over to what appeared to be the general aviation area. Some chickens were wondering around. There was quite a bit of security (locked and gated). I was used to our FBOs and airstrips, where practically anyone can walk on.

I walked up to the small office and peered inside. There were a few Cessnas, and a couple bombed out aircraft. We yelled. No reply. We asked at some of the other offices, but no one knew when any of the flight instructors might be around. A beer ( for the boy)s and a diet soda (for me) later, we finally headed back. As I’ve said before, flying is not the most convenient hobby.

My company, Infina, recently began an online newsletter. Flying is an expensive enterprise, and Infina was kind enough to cover some of the costs associated with my program of study under FAR 141. I was flattered, to say the least, when they asked if I’d like to be the employee featured for the month of January.

I immediately wrote up a short piece. I called myself the Accidental Aviator, because it’s true I kind of fell into flying. Naturally, it was too long. I told them to cut it down as needed. But when the newsletter finally came out, they kept the piece in its entirety. Pretty cool.

Check the Infina Quarterly Newsletter or read below for what I wrote:

Call me the “accidental aviator.” After joining Infina to support the ATO-Finance, Business Development Directorate at the FAA, I spent most of my time figuring out the world of contracts, cost models, and international aviation business opportunities. As I learned more about the aviation field, I started to wonder how I could gain more of the “inside scoop” on aviation. A friend suggested flight lessons. The idea took hold in full force, and about two months ago, I sat behind the controls in a Cessna-152 for the first time as part of a “Discovery Flight.”

Perhaps the best part of taking flying lessons is the ability to understand and talk about the world of aviation. Flying lessons definitely give me an insider’s perspective on aviation and the FAA. A year ago I would never have thought that I would be spending hours behind the controls of a Cessna-172. Now, my goal for 2010 is to obtain my private pilot’s license.

Patience isn’t one of my strengths. I hate practicing it. I also hate being out of control or out of “the know.” The combination of these two personal characteristics results in potent incentive for mastering a new topic or area. The same combination also sets me up for periodic bouts of frustration and anxiety. I reached the end of December in just such a state with regard to flying. Not only was I running on empty between work, outside engagements, conferences, and what little time was left to be with my husband, I knew I was neglecting my flying. I sat staring at my computer monitor at work, and all I could think about was that I was in an office instead of in an airplane.

My high school history teacher used to say: “You need a plan of attack. The plan may change. But you gotta have a plan.” I scheduled a last-minute ground-school lesson, and left work early to head out to Dulles Aviation with the single-minded goal of figuring how I could get my pilot’s license.

I think that a lot of people give up on obtaining their private pilot’s license because they fail to acknowledge just how difficult it will be. I sat down with Luis, who could probably read some of the desperation on my face, ready to address my two main challenges:

1. Lack of daylight: Even though I was told my numerous people that flying during winter months was difficult, I didn’t really believe them. I simply did not realize how difficult it was to have good weather that corresponded with day-light hours November-March. I needed to figure out how I could schedule day-light flight time.
2. Lack of time: I have a job, a husband, social/work-related commitments, and a near-obsession with running. This translates into very limited time for flying and studying. I needed to figure out how to plan ahead to maximize the little time I have.

“Look, I just want to get my license, but I can’t figure out how to do it.” I confessed to Luis. Luis wasn’t a counselor, and he probably was several years younger than me, but he was able to answer some of my questions. He pointed out I really needed to fly twice a week to keep up with maneuvers, and ideally have a day between flights. Ouch. I decided to be honest with myself: that just wasn’t going to happen. He also asked how well I understood the charts and other aspects of flying, and kindly did not laugh at me as we went over all the symbols on the chart. I clearly needed more formal ground school training, but the formal twice-weekly classroom instruction wasn’t going to work.

Listening to Luis, I realized that his idea of how to obtain a license wasn’t realistic for me. A lot of the guys roaming around Dulles Aviation got their licenses during college, and even more of them aren’t married. This served to solidify my need to be clear with what would work for me. I can’t change the weather, nor can I make the days any longer. I can rearrange my schedule, and also change my anticipated end-date.

My POA (plan of attack) included taking off most of January and February. I would refocus on studying using a DVD, my textbooks, and a weekend hour of instruction with someone at Dulles Aviation. Starting in March, I could also begin flying again. I would focus in on flying in May, and would rearrange my schedule during May so that I could fit in 3 lessons/week. I would solo by June.

AOPA has a great feature for student pilots call My Flight Path . I’ve started documenting my progress.

Traditions are habits that you persist in following because of their sentimental significance. Operative word: sentimental. The DC Scheirer Christmas tradition involves a pilgrimage to every family member within driving distance. This means that we visit 5 family members in the course of 6 days spread throughout VA, PA and NJ. Although this is practicable, is not what I consider practical. The fortitude and insanity of youth.

In preparing for our travels, I tried to figure out how to fit in some kind of flight preparations (studying, like I did over Thanksgiving, or perhaps finding some place to squeeze in a lesson. . .). No luck. Unlike my other favorite pastime, running, flying is not a very portable hobby. I was disappointed, but took it in stride. I vaguely tried to calculate how much time we’d save in driving if I could fly us next year. . .

We opened gifts for the 4th time on Boxing Day with my mother-in-law in NJ. I got to my last present. It was small, it was square, it wasn’t heavy – and it didn’t look like anything I had asked for. I shook it. No clue. Careful unwrapping disclosed a box with “David Clark” written on it. A vague sense of déjà vu ensued. “I should know what this is,” I thought to myself. Glen was grinning broadly.

I opened up the box, and stared down at a headset. For flying.

I tried it on. It fit great. It looked great. It was the best gift of the Christmas. Hands down.

I thought it was beautiful. Maybe it would help me with ATC communications. I thought about sleeping in it, it was so comfortable. Learning by osmosis.

I then was regaled by the story of how Glen had found the headset; how he had to call a family friend who worked as a technician on a control tower in Allentown, PA; how he and I had gone to the mall, but he snuck off for an hour to drive to an FBO (fixed base operator) to pick it up. It was not at all dissimilar to the story of him finagling my engagement ring purchase less than 24 hours before hopping on a plane to meet me in Russia.

All I can say is:

Best. Husband. Ever.

“At some point, you will lose your engine,” Lucas told me in the pre-flight briefing.

I had already filed my flight plans, with one key difference from the usual: I filed for three passengers in the plane. Glen was with me. Not only would he get to be there with me practicing sharp turns (the type of turns you take when you realize another aircraft is much closer than it should be), but he would be there for my first forced landing. “Forced landing” = a potential crash that was turned into a landing. Just as you have no business flying a plane if you can’t handle slow flight, you shouldn’t be left alone at the controls if you can’t handled a forced landing.

I reasoned that Dulles Aviation wouldn’t want anything to happen to the plane, so my forced landing would turn into a touch and go, or somehow would happen on an airstrip. Scratch that. I wish I could say “I reasoned” – that enviable foresight I aspire to have as a pilot. What I really thought was: “What in the world is that going to be like?” I’m sure Glen thought the same thing, but being the supportive spouse that he is, he wisely didn’t say anything at all.

Did I mention that I took off on my own for the first time? It was wobbly, but successful. We headed out toward Culpeper.

Culpeper

Photo: Patrick J. Hendrickson

Culpeper is a small airstrip with no flight control tower. What this means for communication is that you must self-announce. I switched over to the designated common traffic advisory frequency (CTAF), in order to broadcast my position, and my intended activity (in this case, to land). You know in advance that you’ll have to self-broadcast, because when you look at your chart, the airport and related symbols are shown in magenta. Lucas had me land and take off a couple of times. “Try to avoid the snow,” he instructed, as I taxied along. It was a bright clear day, and landing was much easier in the daylight. Lucas had me slow down and take a look at some aircraft tied down outside. There was ice on the wings. “Never fly if there is ice or snow on the plane.” No kidding.

We took off and flew around again. “Take a look around you,” Lucas suggested. “Do you see any place to land in case of emergency?” I looked around. Nothing looked like any place I would want to land. I mean, I had trouble landing on the runway with assistance.

“How about that field over there?” No way, I thought.

“Uh, yes,” I said.

“You should always scan for places to land.” Right.

“You just lost your engine.” ______?

A split-second pause, for me to digest the slight action I saw Lucas make, and the slight lurch I felt. For some reason, however, I felt no sense of falling, as I had with the stall. I felt calm and collected. I recalled the steps for recovering we had gone over in the pre-flight briefing.

When you lose your engine, your goal is to achieve a stable glide speed.

Source: AMPLIFIED PROCEDURES

You also want to figure out what the cause might be. I pulled out my emergency checklist. The emergency checklist assumes you have enough time to achieve a suitable glide speed, as well as attempt to determine the cause of the engine failure. (Note: it does not list “certified flight instructor” as a possible cause). You want to give yourself as much time as possible to land – particularly if you want to get a good look at your field/area of choice – so maintaining the plane’s attitude is important. To do this, I promptly lowered the nose (maintain airspeed), and established a glide speed.

One thing you wait on until you are confident of a landing place, is turning off the avionics power and master switches. If you turn off the avionics equipment to soon, then you disable the encoding altimeter and electrical systems. In this case, I was conveniently pointed back toward the Culpeper runway. This is good, because turns tend to cause you to lose altitude. We glided in to Culpeper, settling rather heavily onto the runway. I put on the brakes, and then put them on even harder. We slowed down. Lucas let me have my engine back.

It wasn’t until we were back at Manassas that I remembered Glen in the back. He said he thought my take-off was fine. Good man.