An Eclectic Mind

Makes me glad I never had kids.

The title of this post says most of what I want to report, so I won’t stretch this one out longer than it needs to be.

About two weeks ago, I booked a Phoenix Tour with a woman. The flight, which lasts 50 to 60 minutes, circles the Phoenix area and includes incredible views of north Phoenix, Peoria, Lake Pleasant, Glendale, downtown Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Deer Valley. The tour was for her grandson, who was celebrating his eighth birthday. I wasn’t available on the day she wanted to book, so she booked for the following Saturday, a week after the boy’s birthday. Cost of the flight: $495 plus tax for up to 3 people.

I met the family at 11 AM sharp yesterday. It was Grandma (who booked and paid for the flight), Grandpa, Mom, and The Kid. Everyone looked happy and excited. Mom reported that The Kid was so excited that he’d run into the car, still carrying the TV remote.

I walked them all out to the ramp where the helicopter was waiting. I’d just repositioned it there from its hangar. Three small airplanes were parked nearby. They were surrounded by kids. Apparently, some lucky Boy Scouts were getting airplane rides.

We reached the helicopter but The Kid stopped eight feet short. “I don’t think I want to go,” he said softly.

Over the next ten minutes, that small statement ballooned into yelling and screaming tantrum that even included knee shaking (think cartoons, possibly Sponge Bob). I struggled to complete a safety briefing, wondering why I was bothering. Surely this wasn’t going to happen. But Mom and Grandpa climbed in, leaving Grandma to reason with The Kid. A Sheriff Department helicopter landed on the pad next to ours and I hustled them to the other side of my helicopter for added safety. The other helicopter hot-fueled while Mom climbed out and managed to convince The Kid to board.

I did not want the child beside me. Normally, an eight-year-old is fine up front — hell, I had my first helicopter ride at age 8! — but this kid was a complete unknown. What if he grabbed the controls or opened his door? I wanted no part of that. So he sat in back beside his mother. Grandpa sat up front beside me.

I reached back and locked The Kid’s door.

The Sheriff Department helicopter lifted into a hover, then took off. The kid screamed. “DON’T TILT! I DON’T WANT TO TILT!”

I assured him I wouldn’t tilt, wondering how I was going to make turns without banking.

I started the engine. The Kid started yelling again. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to get out. I left Mom to reason with him. I listened to the ATIS and tower as I warmed up. I chatted with Grandpa, trying hard to ignore the monster sitting behind him.

The Kid refused to put on his headset. I was kind of glad about that. I wouldn’t have to hear him.

I called the tower and got a clearance. I picked up into a hover. The Kid started screaming that he wanted to go down.

“Is he okay?” I asked. I repeated that question four times. Mom and Grandpa ignored me. So I took off.

I wanted to depart to the north, across the runways. My instructions had been to depart to the south, turn to the left (The Kid’s side), and cross the runway midfield at 2000 feet. Normally, I’d make the 500 foot climb in a tight climbing turn. Because of The Kid’s tilt restriction, that was not an option. Instead, I swung way wide in a gradual climbing turn. The kid was still screaming, but I had managed to tune him out. I leveled out over the terminal and crossed the runway at exactly 2000 feet MSL, heading north.

We were a half mile north of the airport when The Kid’s tantrum switch apparently turned to the OFF position. Unfortunately, his screaming switch was apparently non-functioning, because he kept yelling at the top of his lungs. “LOOK! A TRUCK! LOOK! WATER!”

At least he wasn’t afraid anymore.

I headed out toward Lake Pleasant. New River and a bunch of streams were flowing. After a few minutes, The Kid put on his headset and I now had his screaming piped directly into my ears, courtesy of the voice-activated intercom. “LOOK! A COW! LOOK! A STREAM!”

I had two options. I could flick the pilot isolation switch and rudely ignore him and my other two passengers or I could turn down the intercom volume. I elected to turn down the volume. Sadly, I could still hear him.

We circled over the New Waddell Dam and headed south toward Glendale Stadium. I chatted with Grandpa. Somewhere along the way The Kid removed his headset again. Whew!

Things had pretty much settled down and it looked as if the tour would finish fine. I actually forgot about my troublesome passenger, who was still pointing out things he saw on the ground to Mom. But then I made a fatal error. I turned to the left.

My normal tour route takes me past Glendale’s University of Arizona Stadium (where the Cardinals play) along the Loop 101 and turns to the left at I-10 south of there. I normally bank at least 15 degrees to make the turn. Since I thought the kid was okay, I did the turn as I usually did.

And he started screaming again.

I changed my route. Instead of making another left turn to go up Central Avenue — normally the highlight of the trip — I told Phoenix Tower I would transition east along McDowell. That removed two 90° turns from the tour without significantly changing the total time in flight. The kid calmed down a bit along this 5-10 minute stretch. But when I turned left at the Loop 101 to head toward Scottsdale, he started screaming all over again.

Fuck this, I thought to myself.

Instead of overflying Scottsdale Airport (as I usually do), I punched Deer Valley’s identifier into my GPS. I adjusted my course, told Scottsdale Tower I’d transition through the southwest edge of their airspace, and cut about 5 minutes out of the tour time.

By this time, the kid was out of control. Any movement whatsoever was enough to get him screaming. We flew right past his house — Mom and Grandpa both saw it — but The Kid was more interested in screaming his brains out than looking.

I came in for a landing at the helipad where we’d started 45 minutes before. Even when we were on the ground cooling down, The Kid was acting up. He insisted we were moving backwards.

I shut down, got the blades stopped, and walked them back to the terminal building. Grandpa handed me some folded up paper money as he shook my hand. “Thanks for your patience,” he said.

While I appreciated the $20 tip, it would take a lot more money — and a gag — for me to take that kid flying ever again.

Flying helicopters, Phoenix, tourism

Did you enjoy this post? If so, please comment on it or share a little link love:
 Add to Del.icio.us     Technorati This     Digg This     Stumble it!     Tweet This

Looking back 5 years.

January 7 marked the 5 year anniversary of the day I brought my new Robinson R44 Raven II helicopter home from the Torrance, CA factory. I blogged extensively about the experience and the days leading up to it. I put this post together to help me remember it all. It’s full of links that you can follow to read the details behind the summary.

The Backstory

On June 30, 2004, I was working as a pilot for a Grand Canyon helicopter tour operator. I’d aspired to the job since I realized four years earlier that I wanted to fly helicopters commercially. When I was hired in March of 2004, I was thrilled.

A air-to-air shot of me at the controls of my R22 back in 2002.

I was not a typical tour pilot for the company. Besides being a woman — which has its own issues in a male-dominated field like aviation — I was about 20 years older than most of the “kids” they’d hired. It was an entry level job, after all. Most of my coworkers had built their time the usual way: as helicopter flight instructors. I, on the other hand, owned my own helicopter, a 1999 Robinson R22 Beta II, and was trying to run my own helicopter tour business with it. I’d built my 1,000 hours of PIC time flying passengers for hire, tooling around the desert, and taking very long cross-country flights by myself. To this day, I believe I have more solo flight time than 90% of the commercial helicopter pilots out there.

While I enjoyed flying at the Canyon and all the challenges that went with it, it soon became clear that flying there could not be a permanent position for me. My writing career was doing extraordinarily well and I was earning far more writing on my days off than I could ever learn sitting in the pilot’s seat for 8 or more hours a day.

I realized that June that I was at a crossroads of my life and careers. I knew I couldn’t maintain my standard of living if I got a full-time job as a pilot for someone else; without time to write, my income simply wouldn’t be sufficient to cover my living expenses. I knew I couldn’t build a real business with an R22 — especially without a CFI rating. I began thinking about taking the next step and buying a larger, better equipped helicopter. One that could take more passengers. One that made sense to build a business with, likely with a single-pilot Part 135 certificate to give me additional flexibility.

So, on June 30, I ordered a Robinson R44 Raven II.

The Wait Begins

In those days, Robinson had a 6-month backlog for new helicopter orders. You’d work with a dealer to choose options like instruments and colors and other features. The dealer would come up with a price. I’d already done all that in February of the same year, at HeliExpo. When it came time to order, all I had to do was make a phone call, sign a bunch of papers, and send in a check for $25K. That got me on the waiting list.

At the end of September, I left my job at the Grand Canyon. It would probably be the last time I flew there an I was more than a little sad.

In late October, I sold my R22. I’d need the money for part of the R44’s down payment. I was planning to put enough money down to keep my monthly loan payments the same as the R22’s were. I also started work with the local FSDO to get my single pilot Part 135 certificate.

By November month-end, I was going stir-crazy. It was the first time in years that I didn’t have access to an aircraft for flying. I flew as a passenger with friends who had helicopters. I buried myself in my writing work. I tried not to think about flying.

Photoshop guru Bert Monroy gave my friend Tristan’s helicopter a paint job to illustrate what mine would look like in flight.

A friend of mine used Photoshop to doctor up a photo of another friend’s R44 flying near my home, applying my aircraft’s color scheme. It was an air-to-air photo of a helicopter that didn’t exist yet. But it existed to me. I’d already begun referring to it by its last three call sign digits: Zero-Mike-Lima.

They put SN 10603 on the line the day I visited the factory.

When my family flew in from the east coast for Thanksgiving, some of us took a road trip out to California. We got a tour of the Robinson factory. By some incredible coincidence, it was the day they put my helicopter’s frame on the assembly line. My sister snapped a photo of me standing next to the frame, holding up the fake photo I’d brought along to show the folks at the factory.

(Yes, I realize that I sound like a giddy kid.)

By late December, the six month wait was almost over. I started booking rides gigs. I was anxious to get the helicopter by year-end, but that wasn’t going to happen. December ended and January 2005 started. By now, I was very anxious. I’d already cancelled one gig for December month end. I had another lined up for January 8.

Then, on Wednesday, January 6, the wait was suddenly over. You can pick up the details of the rest of the story here.

Days in My Life, Flying

Did you enjoy this post? If so, please comment on it or share a little link love:
 Add to Del.icio.us     Technorati This     Digg This     Stumble it!     Tweet This

Doing your homework is part of flying safely — and legally.

This afternoon, I got a call from a potential client. He’s the manager of a country club that does catering for weddings and other big events. He wanted to know if it were possible for me to land my helicopter on the country club property after dark, pick up a couple — say a new bride and groom — and fly them around Phoenix for about 45 minutes before dropping them off at a hotel with a helipad or an airport where a limousine would be waiting. He also wanted to know whether it was okay for them to have some wine while aboard the aircraft.

Off the top of my head, I said, yes, we should be able to do that. But then I listed the things I’d have to check out before giving a definitive answer.

I thought this might make a good topic for a blog post for commercial helicopter pilots interested in real life helicopter missions. You see, commercial helicopter flying is not always as easy as picking up two passengers at an airport, flying them around for a while, and returning them to the starting point. So, as an example, I’ll discuss the things that come into play for this particular kind flight.

Landing Zone

Off-airport landings are something I’m accustomed to. Photo by Jon Davison.

First and foremost is the safety of the landing zone. How big is it? Is it level? Are there obstacles such as trees, buildings, or wires? What are my approach and departure paths like? Can it be controlled to prevent onlookers from coming too close or walking behind the aircraft? How about neighbors? Are there homes in the area? Is it close to another airport where air traffic control might be an issue? Since landing and departing will be at night, can the landing zone be properly lit so I can find it and land safely on it?

I made an appointment to meet with the client to see the landing zones he had in mind. Hopefully, one will work. I also checked the location of the country club using the satellite view of Google Maps. Although its golf course is indeed surrounded by homes, there’s also a nearby freeway and shopping center that’s likely to be empty at night. I could see some possible approach and departure paths, but could not judge obstacles, such as light posts or wires.

As for a destination hotel — if one is found, I’ll have to go through the entire process there, too. It’s more likely, however, that I’ll just land them at Deer Valley Airport, which is my home base.

Local Ordinances

Of course, no off-airport landing would be possible without a lot of hoop-jumping if there were a local ordinance that prohibited off-airport landings. Scottsdale has such an ordinance, enacted, primarily, to prevent local helicopter pilots from doing asinine things like landing in residential subdivisions. (I guess it was done one too many times.) Wickenburg’s ordinance isn’t quite as restrictive; it states that landing is possible with the permission of the Police Chief. When I asked the Police Chief about this some years ago, he had no idea what I was talking about.

The client said that the mayor the country club’s city is a member, so if there was an issue, he might be able to get permission on an as-needed basis. But when I hung up the phone with him, I started making other calls. First, the local police, to see if they knew of any ordinance. They directed me to the city’s compliance office. They told me they had no ordinances, but that I should check with the FAA. I already know that the FAA is fine with landing a helicopter on private property, as long as it is done safely and in accordance with any related FARs.

So this would not be an issue for this particular location. No hoop-jumping necessary.

Passenger Loading

The lights of Phoenix are beautiful at night. Photo by Jon Davison.

The client wants to use the helicopter as part of the event’s entertainment. At the predetermined time, the guests would be guided to “the patio” (wherever that is) where they could watch the helicopter come in for a landing. The bride and groom would climb aboard and the helicopter would take off, perhaps doing a quick circle of the area before departing.

This sounds great and its sure to make a memorable wedding party. But passenger loading could be an issue here.

Is the client willing to wait for the helicopter to cool down and shut down before the passengers are loaded? And then wait again while the helicopter starts up, warms up, and spins up before departure? If the wait is okay, the pilot (me) can do the passenger briefing and loading. While this might not make for good entertainment, it is the safest option.

The other option is “hot loading,” where the passengers board the helicopter while the engine is running and blades are spinning. Many people will simply not do hot loading, but I will — provided there’s a qualified ground crew to escort all passengers to their seats and ensure they’re buckled in. That means operating with someone on the ground — likely my husband — who would arrive before me and handle briefing and loading duties.

While you might think I prefer the first option, I actually prefer the second. It minimizes the amount of time I’m on the ground and ensures a qualified person is there to handle my next concern: crowd control.

Crowd Control

I firmly believe that a spinning helicopter is more dangerous on the ground than in the air. My tail rotor is literally invisible when it’s spinning — even at idle speed — and if someone walked into it, they’d be dead. That’s why I always set down in a landing zone with my tail pointed away from where people are most likely to be. Any helicopter pilot who doesn’t do this is looking for trouble.

Unfortunately, when landing in an uncontrolled area, there’s nothing to stop people from running up behind the helicopter. There’s a restaurant in Peoria, AZ that I used to land at for lunch quite often. It’s in a relatively remote area with lots of open desert around it. I always landed just outside the parking area with my tail rotor facing away from the building. The last time I landed there, however, a bunch of kids on off-road motorcycles saw me come in and began swarming around the helicopter as I was shutting down. Good thing my husband was with me to keep them clear. I haven’t gone back since.

When I inspect the landing zone, I’ll try to determine how well it can be controlled. And then I’ll put a plan in place to control it for my arrival. Having a reliable and experienced ground crew person will certainly help when the time comes for me to operate there.

Alcoholic Beverages

The final request that requires research is the glass of wine during the tour. FAR 135.121(a) states:

No person may drink any alcoholic beverage aboard an aircraft unless the certificate holder operating the aircraft has served that beverage.

This means they can’t bring their own alcohol aboard — it’s also why you can’t legally bring your own alcohol aboard an airliner!

If you’re wondering who the “certificate holder” is, well, so am I. It’s either me personally — since I have a single pilot Part 135 certificate and I’m the pilot — or it’s my company, Flying M Air. If it’s me, serving wine while I’m at the controls of a helicopter will be nearly impossible. If it’s my company, I can theoretically have an employee or agent of my company serve the alcohol for me, preferably right before we take off.

If there are any pilots out there who have real knowledge about this, please do use the Comments link or form to share what you know with me. Otherwise, I’ll just ask my FAA Primary Operations Inspector (POI). He’ll either tell me or help me figure it out for myself based on what I know.

One thing I do know: if I can’t legally serve alcohol on the flight, I won’t. No client request is more important than my certificate.

FAR 135.121(b) and (c) offer two other rules regarding alcohol:

(b) No certificate holder may serve any alcoholic beverage to any person aboard its aircraft if that person appears to be intoxicated.
(c) No certificate holder may allow any person to bard any of its aircraft if that person appears to be intoxicated.

That means I can’t serve them if they’re drunk and I can’t even allow them to board the aircraft if they’re drunk. This is something I need to make sure the client knows. It would be a shame if I brought my shiny red helicopter in for a landing at the big party and the bride or groom was too shitfaced from champagne to fly. (It would be a bigger shame if one of them puked on my leather seats.)

The Other Usual Stuff

Every flight has the usual collection of pilot tasks before it can be completed. I’m talking about things like calculating weight and balance, getting weather and NOTAM information, creating a flight plan, preflighting the aircraft. I might want to do a daytime landing at the landing zone in advance, just to make sure I was familiar with it. There’s lots of the usual responsibilities, none of which can be taken lightly for any flight.

This Is What It’s All About

This should give most folks an idea of what goes into planning what seems like a simple mission. Any pilot faced with a client request like this who doesn’t look into these things — at a minimum — is simply not doing his job.

I’ll know by Saturday, when I review the landing zone, whether we’ll be able to work for this client. I hope so. It would be great to have some regular gigs like this throughout the year.

Flying charter, FAA, helicopters, landing zones

Did you enjoy this post? If so, please comment on it or share a little link love:
 Add to Del.icio.us     Technorati This     Digg This     Stumble it!     Tweet This

Bake your own fleet. They’re good to eat.

Today, I made sugar cookies in the shape of helicopters for my cherry drying clients. It was a lot of work, but worth it. The cookies came out great and I think my clients will get a chuckle when they see them.

The recipe is my grandfather’s recipe for sugar cookies. He owned a bakery in New Jersey when I was growing up. My mother got the recipe from him and passed it on to me years ago. You can make the cookies in any shape you like.

Here’s the recipe. It may be doubled.

Ingredients:

• 1/4 lb (1 stick) butter or margarine
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tbsp milk
• 1-1/2 cups flour
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp baking powder
• white of 1 egg, beaten (optional)

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Cream butter and sugar in mixer.
3. Add egg, vanilla, and milk. Beat well.
4. Sift together dry ingredients and add gradually to butter mixture.
5. Knead in extra flour if necessary to produce a firm batter.
6. Roll batter out to 1/4 inch thickness on floured board.
7. Cut with cookie cutters and place on cookie sheet.
8. If desired, brush tops with egg white.
9. Bake until golden brown (not more than 10 minutes).
10. Cool on wire rack.

Yields 2 dozen cookies or fewer (depending on shape and size of cutter).

I added sprinkles before baking. My helicopter is red and I wanted to make the connection.

Flying, I Cook, Too cooking, helicopters, recipes

Did you enjoy this post? If so, please comment on it or share a little link love:
 Add to Del.icio.us     Technorati This     Digg This     Stumble it!     Tweet This

The other half of the weight equation.

Last week, I wrote a blog post about helicopter weight. It was my response to a blog post by Tim McAdams on the AOPA helicopter blog titled “Gross weight.” The comments to that post indicated to me that some of the commenters were confusing weight with CG — center of gravity — issues. My blog post concentrated on weight, putting CG aside. But CG is the other part of the weight equation. And for most helicopters, CG is vitally important to calculate as part of preflight planning.

CG Defined

Center of gravity is pretty much what the phase indicates: a calculation of the center of gravity on an aircraft. It’s the aircraft’s balance and it’s calculated as part of the “weights and balance” computations.

For helicopters, CG is extremely easy to envision. After all, a helicopter with a single main rotor system (as most have) is supported at one point in flight: the main rotor system or mast. If you held up the helicopter by its rotor system, the distribution of its weight — not just what’s inside it but its engine, battery, tail rotor, etc. — would determine how level it hung.

Take, for example, my R44. Its full passenger load is in front of the mast. Its fuel, engine, and heavy components are slightly aft of the mast. For this reason, if I’m flying solo (just one person up front) with low fuel, the helicopter would be a bit tail heavy. As I set down from a hover to the ground, the back of the skids would touch the ground before the front. In fact, the right back would touch first. That’s the lowest point closest to the center of gravity for that load.

The same applies to R22 helicopters. In fact, it’s often terrifying for student pilots to pick up into a hover after their flight instructor steps out when its time for that first solo flight. (Sure scared the hell out of me.) The helicopter feels as if it’s going to flip over backwards!

But stick a pair of fatties up front in my R44 and the CG will shift forward. In fact, if you have enough of a load up front, the fronts of the skids will touch first on landing. (I remember the first time I flew with my brother-in-law on board. I thought I was landing on a slope!)

Watch any helicopter take off or touch down and you’ll probably be able to tell where its center of gravity is.

Why CG Is Important

CG limitations are important for aircraft operation. For example, if you’re loaded with too much weight up front, the helicopter will tilt forward more in flight. When slowing down, stopping, or hovering, you might not have enough aft cyclic to counteract this forward tilt. Ditto for lateral or aft CG.

Remember, every aircraft control has a “stop.” That’s the limit to the control’s movement. You pull the cyclic back to slow down in flight. If you’re heavy up front, you may have to pull it back to simply hover in place. If you’re so front heavy that you can’t pull the cyclic back enough to stop the helicopter from moving forward, you have a serious problem — a problem with your CG or balance.

Want to see how far your controls will move? You should be checking their movement before starting up by simply moving each of the controls as far as it will go. The idea is to make sure none of them are stuck on anything or binding in any way. You don’t want to learn about a control problem when the engine is running, rotors are spinning, and you’re picking up into a hover.

You Can Be Under Max Gross Weight and Still Out of CG

What was bothering me about the comments on that AOPA blog post was that a few of the early commenters kept referring to CG and “weight and balance.” But the blog post was about gross weight. CG wasn’t discussed at all.

I didn’t address CG in my post because that wasn’t being discussed. In fact, it’s quite possible to load an aircraft out of CG and still be within max gross weight.

This aircraft is out of CG but still within gross weight limitations.

Want an example? Here are the plotted points for a W&B calculation for an R44 helicopter with 4 good-sized people on board (190 and 250 up front; 190 and 145 in back). It’s a short flight, so only 16 gallons or about an hour’s worth of fuel is loaded on board. The total weight of the aircraft is 2408 — that’s nearly 100 pounds below max gross weight. But as the graph points show, this aircraft is out of CG — too much weight up front.

If you’re having trouble reading this, envision the pink line as the mast. Everything to the left is the front of the helicopter. Everything to the right is the back end of the helicopter. The blue box is the CG envelope for the aircraft, as determined by the manufacturer. In this example, the aircraft with and without fuel is loaded forward of the CG envelope. That’s a no-no.

The same passengers as in the previous example, but with heaviest and lightest passengers switched. This load is within CG.

This situation is extremely easy to fix. Simply rearrange the passengers. While you can’t move the 190-lb pilot, you can move the fatty beside him. In this example, the 145-lb passenger in back has switched places with the 250-lb passenger up front.

Adding fuel might help, since fuel is loaded aft of the mast. But you couldn’t add much — you’re already pretty darn close to max gross weight.

Of course, both of these examples show only longitudinal CG — forward to aft. Lateral, or side to side, CG also needs to be calculated. As many of the commenters pointed out, they’ve created spreadsheets to perform these calculations for them. So have I — where do you think these two diagrams came from?

Take the balanced load of the second example and top off the fuel tanks and you’ll get a situation like this.

Can you be over max gross weight and within CG? Technically, no. As these two diagrams indicate, if you’re loaded too heavy, the plot points will be outside the CG envelope. That means you’re out of CG.

But are you really out of balance to the point where you’ll run into control issues? I wouldn’t want to find out for myself.

Which is More Important: Weight or Balance?

I’ll always argue that you need to consider weight before you worry about balance. If you’re too heavy to fly within manufacturers max gross weight allowances, you’re too heavy to fly legally. Who cares about balance at that point?

So if you’re too heavy, it’s time to reduce weight. Leave behind some gear. Take less fuel. Leave behind the passenger who really doesn’t need to come along. Can the mission be flown with the load changes? If so, go the next step with the new load and do the complete CG calculations. Are you in CG? If so, you’re almost ready to go.

Almost? What else is there?

Performance, of course. I’ll discuss that in a future post.

Flying flight training, helicopters

Did you enjoy this post? If so, please comment on it or share a little link love:
 Add to Del.icio.us     Technorati This     Digg This     Stumble it!     Tweet This