Posts by Berck

Joanna, after asking me the answers to the questions mentioned in the previous post said that I should post them. Because otherwise you guys might not understand how ridiculous it really is.

The mental grouping of affiliated perceptions is called A) insights.

Which of the student’s human needs offer the greatest challenge to an instructor? C) Self-fulfillment.

Individuals make more progress learning if they have a clear objective. This is one feature of the principle of B) readiness.

I think I’m about ready to take that test anyway. Unfortunately, I’ve got to have an even better memorization of it to parrot back in the oral exam. I’ve heard that the examiners do indeed want to hear everything just like it is in the book.

I’ve done 5 flights in the CFII course so far, the most recent this morning. I’ve got another one at noon. I got to fly in the clouds today, which was good practice. My instructor even had me do two no-gyro approaches in the clouds. “Are you sure about this?” I asked him. “I’m comfortable with it, if you’re okay with it.” “It’s fine with me, as long as you don’t let me kill us.”

“No-gyro” means that the two vacuum-driven gyroscopic instruments are covered up. This is to simulate a failure of the engine-driven vacuum pump, something that is bound to happen eventually. Particularly in training operations, because the vacuums pumps are generally not replaced preemptively as they are in passenger carrying operations. In a multi-engine airplane, it’s no big deal because there’s two engines and two vaccum pumps. They’re not likely to fail at the same time. In most aircraft, the attitude indicator (sometimes called the artificial horizon) as well as the heading indicator are driven off the vacuum pump. The attitude indicator works off of a dual-gimble mounted gyroscope that gvies you a constant reference to straight and level flight when you can’t see outside. If it’s working, it’s the instrument that’s most looked at in the clouds. The heading indicator is a gyroscope that only displays heading. You might think, “But you have a compass, so what’s the big deal? Why do you need this thing anyway?” The magnetic compass is a postively wretched and near-worthless instrument unless it’s a perfectly calm day and you’re flying straight and level. If it’s at all turbulent, the compass swings this way and that. If you’re turning toward north, the compass lags the airplane by as much as 30 degrees, and if you’re turning toward south, it leads the airplane by almost 30 degrees. For no-gyro instrument training, a fair amount of time is spent on what are called “compass turns”– turning the aircraft to a specified heading using the compass alone. For everything but large turns, it’s actually much easier and more acurate to fly timed turns. A standard rate turn equates to 3 degrees per second. You figure this out with the third gyroscopic instrument on the plane– a rate of turn indicator. It’s electrically powered so that if the vacuum pump dies, you’ll still have ONE gyroscopic instrument. (Conversely, if the electrical system dies, you’ve still got the other two. Airplanes are all about redundancy.) Unfortunately, it provides no pitch information and only indirect bank information. Flying an instrument approach this way is pretty difficult– and is the most difficult task required for either the instrument or flight instructor-instrument ratings.

I flew two no-gyro localizer approaches today. Even more tricky because I had about 40 knot tail wind, because the localizer approach is for runway 3 and the wind was out of the southwest.

We’re supposed to do NDB approaches this afternoon. I’ve never actually done one in an airplane. They’re miserable. NDB stands for non-directional beacon. Which means the only navigational information you’ve got is an arrow that points in the direction of a beacon. And not very consistently at that, because the beacons are relatively low-powered and low-frequency. Almost anything will make them inaccurate. Thunderstorms, shore lines, mountains, clouds, night, temperature inversions…

I’d like to take this opportunity to say that the FAA doesn’t seem to know anything about flight instruction, if their notion of the “fundamentals of flight instruction,” is any indication.

The sheer irony here is just too much to explain. Here I am, learning about learning. The four characteristics of learning is that it’s “Purposeful, Active Process, Result of Experience and Multifaceted.” I have to have slews of this sort of thing memorized. The six principles of learning are Readiness, Exercise, Effect, Primacy, Intensity and Recency. The four levels of learning are Rote, Understanding, Application, Correlation. I am, I fear, making no effort to understand this hogwash on a level higher than rote so that I can pass this test. Some sample questions from this test.

The mental grouping of affiliated perceptions is called
A) insights.
B) association.
C) conceptualization.

Which of the student’s human needs offer the greatest challenge to an instructor?
A) Egoistic.
B) Social.
C) Self-fulfillment.

Individuals make more progress learning if they have a clear objective. This is one feature of the principle of
A) willingness.
B) readiness.
C) primacy.

You get the idea. If there are actually concepts being tested here, I’m missing out.

So, I’ve actually got two written exams left. The one on this stuff (Fundamentals of Instructing) and a Flight Instructor exam on flying things.

I just finished the ground school for my Instrument Instructor rating. I’m still working on my Multi-Engine rating, but the Duchess has been down for its 100-hour inspection, and I haven’t flown it since Wednesday. I did my first flight for the Instrument Instructor rating this morning, and I’ve got another this afternoon. This afternoon will be my first flight in the right seat. I hear this is a truly discombobulating experience.

I was scheduled to fly at 10am this morning. The plane pulled up at about 9:45. I asked my instructor if we needed fuel, he said we didn’t. Because we didn’t, the fuel truck guy showed up instantly. He’s never there if you do need fuel. While he topped off the tanks, I checked the oil. After going through most of the rest of my preflight, waiting for the fuel to settle, I started sampling fuel. The Duchess has 8 fuel sump points. You have to drain each of them, looking for water. Four on each wing: One for the fuel tank, two for the cross-feed lines, and one on the engine itself. After sampling fuel from crossfeeds on the left side, I noticed that the tank sump was dripping. The valve is pretty simple- it’s spring loaded the closed position, you stick your fuel strainer in it and fuel comes out from the bottom of the tank. Since these tanks are 50 gallons each, the fuel on the tank drains comes out rather quickly. But they’re not supposed to leak. It was dripping fairly slowly, but steadily dripping. Both the director of operations and the chief flight isntructor were standing around outside, so I asked them what I should do about. “Operate it a couple of time and see if it doesn’t stop” I did, and the second time I pushed up on it, the flood gates opened. I pulled my fuel strainer out and it just kept pouring So I’m crawling around on the ground on my knees, and now fuel is POURING out of the tank, and all over me. I quickly remembered that this particular fuel drain has a feature which allows you to to twist it to an open position and drain fuel rapidly if you needed to. It looked like it wasn’t going to take an entire minute to lose the whole 50 gallons of fuel. That’s almost $150 worth of 100/LL:) Fortunately, I was able to use the phillips head end of my strainer to close the valve. The fuel stopped entirely. No more dripping even. And, I figured I’d probably gotten any water out of the tank as well:)

So, after my morning av-gas shower, I rounded up my instructor and set off to fly the pattern. Traffic pattern for the twin is 1500 AGL (instead of 1000 AGL in a single), but not really any bigger around. It also goes a whole lot more quickly. The first time around I had serious coaching, but did okay. There wasn’t much wind, which is always weird for me. Approach speed is 85 knots, which may not sound much faster than 65 knots, but makes a big difference in the way things look. to make it worse, something about the curve of the windshield, no engine in front of you, if I look at the nose, it looks like I’m pointed right. So if I point the nose down the runway, we’re actually going to land sideways. On several landings the sounds of “right rudder. More right rudder,” echoed in my headset. In addition, the pitch attitude is different. “Right here, hold it right here.” “But we’re nose-low!” “You’re not even close!” Every landing provided amazement that I wasn’t smacking the nose gear.

After a few of those, he had me do a few short field landings, which end up looking about the same but with slower airspeed.

After a little of that, he had me depart off to the south. While I was climbing he asked for traffic advisories, then changed his mind, and asked for the ILS 17R to Will Rogers. Whee. Uh-oh. I hadn’t flown an approach in forever, and while flying through the clouds on Wednesday was fun, I realized how rusty my instrument skills are.

As I was being verctored he said, “Let’s go a little faster.” I was set up for normal cruise– 20″ of manifold pressure, 2300rpm which ends up at about 120 knots. “Go to 2500rpm and full throttle.” At 4,000 feet, that’s about 24.5 inches of manifold pressure. I kept trimming the nose lower, and we kept accelerating. Eventually stabilized around 145 knots. Felt like we were screaming.

I ended up doing a relatively decent job of flying the approach with a little coaching. It had been so long.

As I set up for final to westheimer, he pulled my left engine. I went through the simulated feather procedure, rather slowly. I ended up high, and didn’t need any power all the way in, which made my first single-engine landing not too big a deal.

Next flight is mostly instrument work. First maneuvers, then approaches, and single-engine approaches as well as single-engine landings. Should be Monday.

In any case, I like flying this plane. I’m a little sad I’ve only got three more lessons plus a checkride.

Instructor ground school starts monday.