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Confessions of a New Corporate Pilot
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In the Citation III Confessions of a New Corporate Pilot
Life would be sweet, I thought, now that I’d successfully passed my Cessna Citation III (CE-650) type rating check ride (this was a few years back). It meant I’d be flying my first swept-wing jet. Surprisingly, my first day at the new job at Chicago Executive Airport (PWK) would also be the first time I’d been up close to a real Citation III since all the training and even my check ride happened in FlightSafety’s full-motion simulator.
From my research, though, I knew the 650’s cabin was roomy enough for eight, and its rocket-like performance was nothing short of spectacular with a VMO (maximum operating Mach) of Mach 0.85 and 39,000 feet on a standard day. In its day, M.83 was pretty fast. That meant we could make the West Coast out of PWK with four people in the back. I learned quickly, too, that the 650’s awesome performance meant I needed to stay much farther ahead of the airplane than I’d had to in the much slower Citation II (CE-550) I’d been flying in a 12-pilot charter department.
A privately held corporation owned this Citation III and I was the junior of three pilots. The chief pilot, my new boss, brought experience from several other flight departments, while the other pilot, I’ll call him Tom well, I was never really too sure where Tom had come from because the guy kept to himself as much as possible and wasn’t the chatty type. That made three-hour flights long when the entire conversation at FL390 ended with an occasional shrug of the shoulders.
But who cared what one guy acted like, I thought. I was there to learn how to fit into a flight department that needed another pilot on their team. Just like in charter flying, my job was to keep the people in the back happy. I came to know these passengers much better than we ever did in the charter world. These folks sometimes invited the flight crew to their home on Nantucket when we overnighted there.
The Interview
Looking back on this job now though, I guess the 10-minute interview the chief pilot and I engaged in before he offered me the job should have been a tip-off that maybe something was a little odd. But with a four-year-old daughter growing up at home, the chance to dump my charter department pager that always seemed to ring at 2 a.m. beckoned hypnotically.
Cessna Citation CE-650 Corporate line training began right away with me flying in all kinds of weather, where I regularly rotated flying left seat with the chief pilot and Tom. Having flown left seat on the Citation II, I wasn’t brand new to jets, just speedy ones.
After a few months, however, I began to notice a few operational oddities that started making me a little uncomfortable. Some sketchy flight planning and questions I asked were sometimes answered with annoyed expressions. If I appeared not to agree, someone might ask if I’d finished all the Jepp revisions (In those days there were no electronic subscriptions. Updates were handled by hand). I found the best solution for getting along seemed to be to just shut up and fly the airplane. Ignoring those distractions did help me pay closer attention to the little things that made my flying the jet smoother.
Then again … On one flight back from Cincinnati (CVG), I was flying left-seat with the chief pilot in the right. I wanted to add fuel before we left since the Chicago weather was questionable, but the boss overruled me explaining, “We’re fat on fuel.”I didn’t say anything. As we approached PWK, the ATIS reported the weather had worsened, considerably. The Swiss cheese holes began to align when Chicago Approach dumped us early. We ended up burning more fuel than planned. I flew the ILS right down to minimums, but my scan uncomfortably included the fuel gauges every few seconds. After a safe landing, we taxied in with 700 pounds of Jet-A, not much for an airplane that burns 1,800 pounds an hour down low. What if we’d missed at Chicago Executive Airport and needed to run for Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport I wondered? We’d have arrived on fumes. The boss looked at me after we shut down. “Don’t tell me that whole thing bothered you. It all turned out fine, didn’t it?” (more…)
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Remembering Gordon Baxter: Bax Seat was a Flying Magazine Reader Favorite
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(Reposted by request)
Each time I stand near my desk, my eyes naturally focus on the framed cover of the August 1983 Flying magazine. Below it is page 100, the “I Learned About Flying from That” (ILAFFT), where my first column appeared. On it, the author of Bax Seat, scrawled in brown ink, “To my friend Rob Mark. His story, my push. Gordon Baxter, August 5, 1983.”
Many months before, Gordon Baxter had given me the Flying editor’s phone number. When I rang with my brief pitch, all I heard was “yes.” I suddenly had an assignment for my first column. That 1983 issue was the first, but not the last, time my name and stories appeared in the aviation industry’s iconic magazine. That same issue also ran a pilot report about the then-new Cessna Citation III, an aircraft I later added to my list of type ratings. Looking back, there were so many aspects of my aviation career that came to life around Bax and that August 1983 issue, not the least of which was that we became friends.
Gordon Baxter, Bax as he preferred folks call him, helped shape my career as an aviation journalist like no one before him and only a few people since. The author of 13 books, Bax’s own magazine writing career at Flying spanned 25 years. His monthly column, Bax Seat, focused on vivid descriptions of his adventures. It was known simply as “Bax Seat.” Did I mention he was also a long-time radio personality in Beaumont, Texas, another interest we shared.
A Bit of Bax’s Background
I first met Bax in the mid-1970s. He brought his show, his act, or whatever the heck he called his evening of storytelling, to the Stick and Rudder Flying Club at Waukegan Airport. I was a tower controller not far away at Palwaukee Airport. Having been an avid Flying reader since high school, I switched shifts with another controller so I wouldn’t miss the event. Bax captured the audience for over an hour with stories from his flying career and his columns that often alternately “em rollin’ in the aisles” with gut-wrenching laughter and an emotional Texas-guy style that also brought tears to many an eye. Another way to think of Bax’s storytelling night was like an evening of improv but all about flying and airplanes.
Born in Port Arthur, Texas, he learned to fly after World War II following his stint as a B-17 turret gunner. Bax was no professional pilot—just a guy with a private certificate, an instrument rating, and eventually his beloved Mooney. On the back cover of one of his books, appropriately titled Bax Seat, Flying’s Stephan Wilkinson said “Bax tries to pass himself off as a pilot, but don’t believe him. He never could fly worth a damn. But Gordon feels airplanes, loves and honors them in ways that the rest of us are ashamed to admit. And he’s certainly one of the few romantics who can express what he feels so perfectly.” I couldn’t have written that myself, but I, too, felt it.
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Making the Brazilian ATR-72 Spin
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Note: This story was corrected on August 10th at 10:23 am, thanks to the help of a sharp-eyed reader.
Making an ATR-72 Spin
I wasn’t in Brazil on Friday afternoon, but I saw the post on Twitter or X (or whatever you call it) showing a Brazil ATR-72, Voepass Airlines flight 2283, rotating in a spin as it plunged to the ground near Sao Paulo from its 17,000-foot cruising altitude. All 61 people aboard perished in the ensuing crash and fire. A timeline from FlightRadar 24 indicates that the fall only lasted about a minute, so the aircraft was clearly out of control. Industry research shows Loss of Control in Flight (LOCI) continues to be responsible for more fatalities worldwide than any other kind of aircraft accident.
The big question is why the crew lost control of this airplane. The ADS-B data from FlightRadar 24 does offer a couple of possible clues. The ATR’s speed declined during the descent rather than increased, which means the aircraft’s wing was probably stalled. The ATR’s airfoil had exceeded its critical angle of attack and lacked sufficient lift to remain airborne. Add to this the rotation observed, and the only answer is a spin.
Can a Large Airplane Spin?
The simple answer is yes. If you induce rotation to almost any aircraft while the wing is stalled, it can spin, even an aircraft as large as the ATR-72. By the way, the largest of the ATR models, the 600, weighs nearly 51,000 pounds.
Of course, investigators will ask why the ATR’s wing was stalled. It could have been related to a failed engine or ice on the wings or tailplane. (more…)
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How the FAA Let Remote Tower Technology Slip Right Through Its Fingers
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In June 2023, the FAA published a 167-page document outlining the agency’s desire to replace dozens of 40-year-old airport control towers with new environmentally friendly brick-and-mortar structures. These towers are, of course, where hundreds of air traffic controllers ply their trade … ensuring the aircraft within their local airspace are safely separated from each other during landing and takeoff.
The FAA’s report was part of President Biden’s Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act enacted on November 15, 2021. That bill set aside a whopping $25 billion spread across five years to cover the cost of replacing those aging towers. The agency said it considered a number of alternatives about how to spend that $5 billion each year, rather than on brick and mortar buildings.
One alternative addressed only briefly before rejecting it was a relatively new concept called a Remote Tower, originally created by Saab in Europe in partnership with the Virginia-based VSATSLab Inc. The European technology giant has been successfully running Remote Towers in place of the traditional buildings in Europe for almost 10 years. One of Saab’s more well-known Remote Tower sites is at London City Airport. London also plans to create a virtual backup ATC facility at London Heathrow, the busiest airport in Europe.
A remote tower and its associated technology replace the traditional 60-70 foot glass domed control tower building you might see at your local airport, but it doesn’t eliminate any human air traffic controllers or their roles in keeping aircraft separated.
Max Trescott photo Inside a Remote Tower Operation
In place of a normal control tower building, the airport erects a small steel tower or even an 8-inch diameter pole perhaps 20-40 feet high, similar to a radio or cell phone tower. Dozens of high-definition cameras are attached to the new Remote Tower’s structure, each aimed at an arrival or departure path, as well as various ramps around the airport.
Using HD cameras, controllers can zoom in on any given point within the camera’s range, say an aircraft on final approach. The only way to accomplish that in a control tower today is if the controller picks up a pair of binoculars. The HD cameras also offer infrared capabilities to allow for better-than-human visuals, especially during bad weather or at night.
The next step in constructing a remote tower is locating the control room where the video feeds will terminate. Instead of the round glass room perched atop a standard control tower, imagine a semi-circular room located at ground level. Inside that room, the walls are lined with 14, 55-inch high-definition video screens hung next to each other with the wider portion of the screen running top to bottom.
After connecting the video feeds, the compression technology manages to consolidate 360 degrees of viewing area into a 220-degree spread across the video screens. That creates essentially the same view of the entire airport that a controller would normally see out the windows of the tower cab without the need to move their head more than 220 degrees. Another Remote Tower benefit is that each aircraft within visual range can be tagged with that aircraft’s tail number, just as it might if the controller were looking at a radar screen. (more…)
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Logging Virtual Flight Time at AirVenture
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One of the most frustrating aspects of getting excited while watching others fly, like the U.S. Navy Blue Angels, is not being able to immediately feed that emotional and physical craving. It figures that technology provided some relief with some virtual flight time in disparate aircraft at the EAA Innovation Center.
Having never before flown a gyroplane or replaced my glasses with virtual reality goggles, I didn’t know what to expect as I reached for the stick, throttle, and rudder pedals (which I slid forward on the floor—ah, legroom at last) of the PAL-V Liberty, a (three-wheel) car that flies and a (gyro) plane that drives.
When Dave started the simulation, which put me on Runway 18 at Wittman Regional Airport (OSH), my first impression was a very real case of spatial disorientation. I can’t remember the last time I had such a strong case of vertigo. I fought through it, following Dave’s instruction to hold the brakes, apply full power, and to hold a neutral stick when I released the brakes.The steep climb angle—it’s normal, Dave said—only made my vertigo worse. While my eyes and inner ears argued with the seat of my pants, I looked around. Hey, there’s Lake Winnebago, and the four exhibit hangars. Where are all the people? But I must admit it was nice having the place to myself.
Pulling the power to idle abeam the numbers, I started a 180-degree turn to landing. Dave warned me to back off the bank angle a bit. Without any haptic feedback from the controls or the seat of my pants, it was nice to have the aural warning. As usual, I over controlled on final, but I managed to conclude my 2-minute virtual flight by landing to the left of centerline without breaking or bending anything. Removing the goggles, I sat there for a moment to let my eyes, ears, and sit-down parts reach consensus.
At the other end of the Innovation Center aisle was EAA’s powered paraglider simulator. These flying machines have long fascinated me, and I’d watched them fly early that morning, so a virtual flight was the last item on my AirVenture to-do list that needed a tick mark.After scooting my butt all the way back into the harness, the sim operator pulled the Velcro strap on the throttle on my right hand. A lever like a bicycle hand brake, I’d squeeze it with my fourth and little fingers add power and climb. With my index and middle fingers I’d grab the toggle, which I’d pull to turn in that direction. All four fingers worked the left toggle, and pulling both of them simultaneously was like putting on the brakes.
Unlike all of the pilots who preceded me, I chose the Village Flight, not the Combat Challenge, because shooting at tanks and helicopters and towers would be a distraction. I was going to teach myself how to fly this thing—to climb, cruise, turn, and descend—during my virtual flight time of 90 seconds. The first view of the goggles explained the controls and showed what happened when you pulled the toggles. Cool!
I was just starting to slalom around the trees and buildings when the goggles went dark and the double-barreled fan-supplied slipstream died. But the virtual flight inspired me to seek out training in the real thing, and Google led me to the US Powered Paragliding Association.
Walking back toward Boeing Plaza I passed the Jack Link’s tent. In it, four people were sitting in a tandem-tandem facsimile of a cockpit, each wearing a helmet and virtual reality goggles with mirrored aviator sunglasses stuck on the front. I got in line and had an exiting aerobatic flight with John Klatt in the Jack Link’s sponsored Screamin’ Sasquatch Jet Waco.The vertigo from my first virtual flight of the day did not return, probably because I was too busy “flying” the maneuvers with him, trying to remember my aerobatic training and where to look to guide the path of each maneuver. Snap rolls were interesting, but not as interesting as the jet powered flat (that’s what it looked like to me) spin. Happy after the multi-minute routine, they treated me to lunch, two samples of Jack Link’s beefsteak protein snacks, which is still jerky to me. — Scott Spangler, Editor
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Back to the Future: EAA Innovation Center
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An AirVenture visit to the EAA Innovation Center is always worthwhile because you never know what you’ll find in its cool, air conditioned and dry interior. Some of the cooler technology was a 3D printer that was hard at work recreating what looked like the U.S. Capital Building (it had not yet started on a dome) and three opportunities to experience virtual reality on a motorcycle, in a powered paraglider, and a roadable gyroplane. (I’m going back tomorrow to try them all, if the lines aren’t too long.)But this year it was back to the future in the post-war (that would be World War II) dream of the flying car and its cousin, the personal helicopter. Both were interesting projects, with the car drawing on existing technology. The helo was more interesting because it was a quadcopter for two, so it might have the edge on making it. What they have in common is a limited appreciation of the training and certification their customers will need to pull these things out of their garages and fly them.
The SureFly personal helicopter is a hybrid, with four arms and eight electric motors, each one turning its own fixed-pitch prop in contra-rotation to its arm mate. A gas engine turns two generators to power the props, with a lithium battery backup that provides 5 minutes of emergency landing power. And it has a ballistic parachute. With a target price of less than $200,000, the SureFly will carry two adults (and I fit in it!) to 4,000 feet at 70 mph, with a one-hour endurance. It is made almost entirely of carbon fiber, and it weighs 1,100 pounds empty, with a max takeoff weight of 1,500 pounds.There were no controls in the cockpit, just a computer screen, so maybe the pilot punches in the address of his destination and the SureFly does the rest. Given Workhorse’s success with its HorseFly autonomous package delivery drone, which is fully integrated with its Workhorse battery-electric delivery vehicle, it might have found a path around the pilot certification hurdle. UPS and Workhorse successfully delivered packages using this system in 2017.
Detroit Flying Cars is making 21st century tracks on a journey started by Molt Taylor after World War II and culminated with the Aerocar’s first flight in 1949. Only six were built, and you can see one of them at the EAA Museum. Instead of folding its wings and turning them into a trailer, the Detroit Flying Car’s 26-foot wingspan telescopes in and out as needed. It’s an innovative approach to a universal flying car challenge. Another interesting aspect is that the left wing is mounted higher than the right, so in the retracted position, one is on top of the other in the car’s 16-foot-long fuselage or body.Powered by a 100 hp internal combustion engine, the specs say it will cruise (in the air) at 125 mph for 400 miles. Made of carbon, it weighs 1,000 pounds empty and a maximum gross weight of 1,500 pounds. In an emergency, a ballistic chute is standard. It will carry two, and its wing loading is 12 pounds per square foot. On the road it’s an electric car that’s 6 feet wide and 6-foot-3 tall. It’ll run 50 miles on the battery and 400 miles with the engine recharging the battery.
The technology and innovation represented in both of these projects is inspiring, but it seems to me that until they figure out a way to surmount the hurdle of pilot certification, their efforts appear to be stillborn. If people are less than eager to invest more than six months and five figures to fly a fixed wing airplane that can be had for a fraction of the prices these projects will command, I don’t see much of a market for them. But maybe I’ve been in the sun and on my feet for too many hours this week, and I’m just not seeing things clearly. — Scott Spangler, Editor
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AirVenture Begins with Proactive Effort to Stop Privatized ATC
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Almost everywhere you turn among the hundreds of acres of airplanes and lovers of aviation are subtle (and no so subtle) signs that make it clear that the best way to improve the US Air Traffic Control (ATC) system is to “Modernize, Not Privatize.” It’s a message you can’t miss when walking through AirVenture’s main gate. And if you miss the big sign on the portable Jumbotron, it is on every bin that offers a free copy of EAA Sport Aviation and the show’s daily newspaper, AirVenture Today.If people were not clear on the details, AirVenture Today included a four-page pullout in its Sunday edition that explained it all, And if you didn’t get the Sunday paper, there were stacks of them at every exhibit space manned by the general aviation organizations behind the effort, EAA, AOPA, NBAA, GAMA, HAI, and NATA.
But the organizations’ effort is even more proactive. There is a squad of 25 sturdy young uniformed adults, each armed with an iPad. With the expanded Wi-Fi network, each iPad has a real-time connection to ATCNotforSale.com, that enables people to immediately transmit their displeasure over the possibility of a privatized ATC system by email, Tweet, and Facebook posting. And if they are not sure of all the myths and misinformation spread about the proposal, the site clears that up as well, starting with a powerfully concise video with Sully Sullenberger.
The goal of the iPad warriors is to get 10,000 people to send their comments to their elected representatives by the end of AirVenture. The crowd of roughly 350 people who filled the Theater in the Woods Town Hall meeting about ATC Privatization — at 1130 on Monday — seriously spanked my skepticism. Usually, at this time of day, the theater is the refuge of the lame and sunstroked, not unhappy aviators looking for ways to save the activity that gives their lives purpose and meaning.As the host, EAA’s Jack Pelton spoke first, followed by AOPA’s Mark Baker, NBAA’s Ed Bolen, and GAMA’s Pete Bunce. In turn, each of them evenly explained the consequences of a privatized air traffic control system on the the community of general aviators their organizations represented. What united them was the universal threat embodied in the House 21st Century Aviation Innovation, Reform, and Reauthorization (AIRR) Act, aka HR 2997, which includes the provision that would separate ATC organization from the FAA.
Each speaker made it clear that the our elected officials will decide the future of general aviation in the next few months as this legislative bolus works its way through Congress. Its defeat is general aviation’s only hope, and we should achieve that goal if we consistently communicate with elected official with a unified voice. And you don’t have to be at AirVenture to pound out an iPad missive to your elected official. You can add your voice to the 10,000 sought after in Oshkosh at ATCNotforSale.com or through any other form of communication. — Scott Spangler, Editor
