Indy Airshow 2010: Friday


This is a regular blog post. If you’re looking for show notes or links to show audio or video, you’ll find them in the other posts.

How is it that I feel so at home at Indy when this is only second year here? Part of it probably has to do with the luck I had last year in terms of the people I met. Billy and Haley and so on. Part of it might also be that I’m reaching a critical mass of acquaintances in the airshow community so that I can be reasonably assured of knowing at least a few people at any given medium-sized-or-better airshow. Folks like Indy chairman Roger Bishop, Fence Check maven Liza Eckardt, and AirPigz creator Martt Clupper.

Whatever the reason, it’s really good to feel so at home on this ramp and among these people.


And, while we’re on the subject of people, let’s talk about Roger Bishop for a minute. Roger is the Enoch Root of aviation new media and social media. At least that’s how it works in my imagination. He’s omnipresent and influential, yet modest about taking credit for the work he does.

And I really admire his management abilities. Not in a smarmy business-school sort of way. I mean that he really seems to know how to delegate and then be in the present and effective during the actual chaos. I’m not saying that his battle plans survive first contact with the enemy any more often than the battle plans of others. But be has a Zen ability to simply, well, manage.

I’m not that guy. I’m proud of the way I just talked things over with Will Hawkins during the filming of Acro Camp and then just let Will and David Allen do things as they saw fit. But I was way too obsessed with getting the in- and on-aircraft cameras and audio devices deployed, collected, and offloaded. The project probably suffered from the attendant lack of top-down observations and nudges that I could/should have made and performed. And I know that I’ve left a lot of work for myself in the editing process because, although we got all of the video and audio, I still have to do some detective work figuring out which audio goes with which video, etc.

This isn’t hero worship and, as I said before, it’s not the smarmy new-MBA buzzwordy heaping of praise into which it might otherwise degenerate. But I said it last year and I’ll say if again this year. Roger’s really on top of his projects and they seem to go as smoothly as possible without him being a walking nerve-ending. Like me.

Much to learn. But, in the meantime, it gives me a really nice airshow in which to bask for a few days.

Airshow. Remember the airshow? This is a blog post about an airshow.

This was my first full day at this year’s show. Media credentialing first thing and then an attempt at a Huey ride. Some piece of equipment on the Huey was not working to the satisfaction of the pilot and crew and they elected to scrub the morning flight. No problem. Safety first. And, in fact, I’m planning to get to the show site tomorrow at 0700 local in case they get to try it again before the airspace.


We hit the 10:00 briefing with air boss Ralph Royce. All of the performers, or their representatives, attend and get a weather briefing, talk about the airspace, identify emergency procedures, and otherwise coordinate the big and complicated ballet that is the airshow. Check out my posts from the ICAS convention in December. An air boss briefing is one of the bellwethers of how well your planning has worked out. If your ducks are single-file by then, the air boss briefing will sound a lot like the one that I attended this morning.

The media chief then slotted Airpigz’s Martt Clupper and me, among others, on a flight of the Yankee Air Museum’s B-17, Yankee Lady. The show time was 5:30, so we had plenty of time to head out and check out the airshow grounds and watch the practices.


I’m taking a slightly different approach this year. Most of the interviews I’m doing are video instead of audio and I’m focusing on aerobatics as opposed to platform and other performer-specific subjects. I got Pitts S-2C driver Billy Werth and Jelly Belly Interstate Cadet driver Kent Pietsch today, which makes three when you add A-10 East demo pilot Maj Johnnie Green. I’m thinking a lot about loading relevant parts of the interviews with these veteran performers into appropriate places in the film. Certainly, some of this material is going to make it into the podcast feed, but this is such a prime opportunity to get film of these performers that I can’t pass it up.

I have another few that I really want to capture. One is Mike Goulian. I got great footage of Mike mentally walking through his program there on the ramp and then the launch and recovery from his practice performance. Being that we used his book as the text for Acro Camp, I think it’d be great to get an interview with Mike into the film. Besides, the book kept me awake at night bed-flying some of the maneuvers and trying to develop some kind of kinesthetic sense for them. Mike owes me. Whether he knows it or not.


A very pleasant surprise at the end of the day. The ride in the B-17 turned out to be a real treat. You could be forgiven for thinking that I prefer the heavy iron. After all, I spent a fair piece of 2008 getting a DC-3/C-47 SIC type rating. And I’d love to help fly the Yankee Air Museum’s C-47 at some point. But, when I’m at an airshow, I’m usually about chasing the crank-and-bank performers that have two-seat aircraft.

But what an experience! As soon as I heard that I had a B-17 slot, I walked over and buttonholed copilot Ray Hunter and asked about camera mount spots. He was kind enough to let me crawl around the aircraft and identify some spots. When 5:30 rolled around, I showed up as early as possible and mounted a GoPro Hero above and behind the pilots, a ContourHD looking out the left window behind the left-seater, and a ContourHD looking out the front window. In addition to that, I plugged into the intercom and radio from the seat just behind Ray and had my still camera and a Panasonic HDC-SD9 in my hands. Five cameras and audio, baby!

I couldn’t see out the window when sitting and strapped in for takeoff, but could stand until we took the runway and again once we reached cruise altitude. I didn’t bring the Mac on this trip and I’m spending the next week at Camp Atterbury, Indiana for CAP Mission Aircrew School as a part of the National Emergency Services Academy, so it’ll be later this month before I get to see how the video turned out. And edit some of it and get it up as a video episode. And I can’t wait to do that. I see a video episode and a long-form audio episode coming out of this.

Shortly after takeoff, we got the okay to unstrap and roam around the aircraft. Martt Clupper got the bombardier’s seat and I joined him in the nose. The plexiglass in the nose is pretty crazed, but it’s serviceable and it was interesting to get that view out in front without having to look through a prop, as I usually do.

Can you imagine being up there in the very front of the aircraft trying to concentrate on a bombsight with nothing but some plexi between you and the flak over Germany? All I could think about was pickling and getting the hell out of there. The Americans did mostly daylight bombing and left the night bombing to the Brits. It was a brute force thing. You fly over continental Europe in broad daylight at a mere 150 knots and just hope that you’re not the one that the Messerschmitt Bf 109s decided to single out. And remember that the allies didn’t always have the P-51 Mustang to escort them. The Mustang came along late in the game. In much of the going in WWII, the B-17s were out there alone with no little friends to stave off the incoming waves of German fighters.

I also wandered back through the bomb bay to check out the rear of the aircraft. The most pleasant surprise was the open-air roof of the mid-empennage. Really weird to stick your head up and partly out of it into the 150-knott wind blast and watch Indianapolis slip below you.


The mission was to form up with several of the aerobatic performers and go do an overflight of an Indianapolis Indians game at Victory Field downtown. Airshow announcer Rob Reider was plugged into the PA at the field and ready to do commentary for the crowd. We proceeded to a lat-long waypoint and formed up from there for the pass(es).

I was back up in the cockpit for the overflight. I need to review the intercom and ATC audio to get a better idea of what happened, but I did hear us getting steering vectors over the target. I could see the 48-story Chase Tower off to the right and the Garmin 530 was showing an obstacle proximity warning during the pass. I’ve always wondered what kind of coordination went into formation join-ups and overflights and this audio is probably going to answer a lot of my questions.

On the way back, I got a chance to stand up in one of the turrets and shoot some video and stills of the other ships in the formation. It was pretty hazy out there. Solid VFR to be sure, but it had been in the 80s and muggy all day and the air wasn’t letting the pretty photons through. A good first subject for color correction when I start learning how to do that.


Probably the most interesting part from a pilot’s perspective is that it takes a lot of hands to fly this beast. Copilot Ray Hunter flew the formation pass and the return and landing. Pilot Dave Cobaugh managed the throttles in addition to command other checklist items. What I didn’t expect is that flight engineer Norm Ellickson stands behind and between the pilots for critical phases of flight and manages some of the controls on the center console. It’s a real collection of hands on the controls. Up to five hands at times. I’m guessing that I’ll be able to understand a little more from the intercom audio about the division of responsibilities. But the general sense that I got is that critical phases of flight are busy times.

The downside is that the GoPro HD Hero that I mounted above and behind the pilots is likely going to feature views of the back of Norm’s head a lot of the time. And mostly at the most interesting times. But that’s okay. Those are the kinds of things you learn as you do this in different aircraft. I pulled the camera down and re-clamped it over Ray’s left shoulder. It was a less stable mount point and the moment of shake was a lot bigger, but we’ll see how it turns out. I also shot a lot of video with the Panasonic and I don’t think that the obscuration of the Hero is going to be a problem.

What a great ride! I was torn between staying put focusing on the cockpit activity and heading to other parts of the aircraft. I think I made the right decision by wandering. IO’m pretty sure that I’ll be able to figure things out from the partial video and the complete audio. And I’ll naturally bring you both in a couple of upcoming Airspeed episodes.

As usual, it’s really late (about 1:00 a.m.) and I need to get some sleep. I pack up tomorrow morning and check out of the hotel and run to make the Huey flight. Then it’s more wandering of the grounds and the Saturday show. I bust out after the Saturday flying is complete to head to MAS, so I’ll be nomadic for most of the day.

Watch the Twitter feed (@StephenForce) and I’ll try to give occasional updates as cool things happen. And cool things happen at the Indy Airshow!

Photos with me in them courtesy Martt Clupper (www.airpigz.com; mcc@airpigz.com).

Indy 2010: Arrival


This is a regular blog post. Looking for show notes and links to episode audio? Check out the other posts. It’s all here!

A meandering trip this morning and early afternoon through Dayton and then over to the Mount Comfort Airport. A stop at the Waffle House, 25 minutes hung up in a gawker jam, lots of podcast listening, and then the parking lot at Indy Aero.

It’s that time of year again! Time for the Indianapolis Airshow! I attended the event for the first time last year and I’m enthusiastically back.

Thursday before a show is one of my favorite times. The ramp is relatively bare. But the energy is building. A fleet of golf carts awaits volunteers and staff. The rows of vendor tents are going up. Indy Aero, the FBO, is starting to buzz with activity (red shirts everywhere!). People like Billy Werth who were new friends last year greet you with familiarity that far exceeds the time that life has thus far let you spend together.


It’s a special time when a performer aircraft are arriving every half hour or so and golf carts and tug whiz around like crazed gophers. But, at the same time, right next to Kent Pietsch’s Jelly-Belly-liveried 1942 Interstate Cadet and Billy Werth’s Pitts S-2C, 30-hour student pilot Jon Ebbeler is preflighting his aircraft for a few trips around the pattern.


I strolled through the hangar and got some drool on Mike Goulian’s Extra 330, one of the Horsemen’s P-51 Mustangs, and the Red Eagle II.


Then I strolled the ramp with Liza Eckardt from Fence Check. Although mostly unpopulated, parts of the ramp were beginning to take shape. The A-10 Thunderbolt IIs of the U.S. Air Force Air Combat Command East Coast A-10 Demo Team had arrived and the maintainers were getting the birds show-ready. Although he was busy, I got Maj Johnnie “Dusty” Green to talk energy management and aerobatics on camera in front of the aircraft as a possible sequence for the Acro Camp movie. The A-10 has no afterburners, so energy management is very important to both combat maneuvers and the airshow demo profile. With no blowers to fall back on, the energy you have is basically the energy you have and you have to manage that while supporting the ground operations and potentially being shot at.


By the time we got the rest of the way around the ramp, all three of the Horsemen aircraft were on the ramp and preparing for a flight to warm up and work out some elements of their demo. The ASB.tv package at the show is pretty impressive. The Horsemen, Mike Goulian, and announcer Rob Reider form a pretty impressive core of airshow entertainment.

I got the chance to sit down with managing partner Kurt Kratchman at the ICAS convention in December and talk about everything from the airshow operations to other properties like Mike da Mustang to the online presence (which, by the way, includes the innovative BlackBox presentation engine).

And, of special interest to me and other aviator-musicians, composer James Horner has scored and directed the music for the Horsemen’s demo. You’ve heard Horner’s stuff. To name just a few of the 100-odd scores he’s worked on: Braveheart, Apollo 13, Glory, A Beautiful Mind, The Perfect Storm, and Avatar. (And Apollo 13. And Apollo 13!) You get the picture. Horner is tight with the Horseman and gets to ride along with some frequency. There’s a short film at ASB.tv called Write Your Soul that goes into the backstory.

Kurt, Ed Shipley, and others from ASB sure seem to have a broad and deep set of properties in the airshow and lifestyle vertical. And I think what they’re doing has the seeds of revolution for some areas of new media. I’m perhaps pretty decent at thinking deeply about the present infrastructure and shape of new media. I think I play well with that. But I look at ASB and see a gathering critical mass of . . . something. I don’t know what and I’d be foolish to speculate. But there’s a lot of talent and resources in very close proximity. I’m watching ASB.tv pretty closely and can’t wait to see what happens.

Anyway, the time hack for this post will likely be in the ridiculous hours of the morning, so I’m going to go ahead and post this. Media credentialing is at 0800 local and I intend to be there. Bleary-eyed, but there!

The US Naval Academy, Naval Aviation, and Super-D Acro with MIDN 1/C Evan Levesque


Subscribe to Airspeed through iTunes or your favorite other podcatcher. It’s all free!

These are the show notes to an audio episode. If you want to listen online, please use the direct link below. http://media.libsyn.com/media/airspeed/Levesque01.mp3.

MIDN 1/C (“Midshipman First Class”) Evan Levesque (pron. leh-VEHK) just completed his third year at the United States Naval Academy. He’s a private pilot with a tailwheel endorsement and he flies aerobatics on weekends. He’s also managed to get a couple of flights in the back seat of an F/A-18 Hornet.

You can find out more about the United States Naval Academy at http://www.usna.edu/homepage.php.

Contact information for MIDN 1/C Levesque:

myTransponder.com: EvanLevesque

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=587468096&ref=ts

Airspeed Guest Essay: Ron Klutts Remembers Doug Bourn and Talks Safety


Subscribe to Airspeed through iTunes or your favorite other podcatcher. It’s all free!

These are the show notes to an audio episode. If you want to listen online, please use the direct link below. http://media.libsyn.com/media/airspeed/AirspeedKlutts02.mp3.

For Ron Klutts, a long-time friend of Airspeed, the 17 February crash of a Cessna 310 near Palo Alto hit close to home. Ron knew the pilot well and the accident caused Ron to compose some of his thoughts into a really well-crafted essay.

As you know, I usually fly left seat in Airspeed episodes. But this is one instance where I’m happy to move over, sit back, tune radios, and get coffee for the pilot flying. Please give your full attention to this first-ever Airspeed guest essay. It’s worth your time and attention.
____________________________________________

Take-offs are a surprise.

There are times in our lives where we pause to reflect on what we’ve accomplished, or what we hope to do in the future and how to achieve them. Other times it’s our failures that trigger this and we want to learn from it and try and avoid repeating them. Sometimes we get to learn from the events other people have gone through and reflect on it.

What follows is my journey of self-examination as a pilot.

First off I must thank Stephen Force for the inspiration I received from his First Solo episode and hearing of his journey with a bag of fears and the roadblocks he faced when his instructor died in a terrible crash.

It was in that episode that we as pilots are reminded aviation is safe but to a large extent it’s terribly unforgiving when an accident does happen. We want it to be safe for us, our loved ones and other passengers that entrust their lives and well being to us. It’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.

We strive to learn the performance characteristics and limitations of the aircraft we fly and then operate it safely within those boundaries.

We learn and practice emergency procedures so we can handle them and have a safe outcome for us and then lastly the plane.

From our early training onward we know the importance of protecting lives on the ground and the need to stay away from populated areas if we must land during an emergency.

I want to address a few things that have come to mind in the past weeks in light of a recent accident that struck all to close to home for me.

On February 17, 2010 a Cessna 310 left Palo Alto with three on board for an hour and fifty minute flight to southern CA. This time however, the flight lasted less than a minute.

The pilot was one of the good guys, a commercial rated CFI with whom I did my BFR with in 2005 when I joined the partnership he started with 4 other people for a Cessna 172.

I flew with him several times doing various training flights and have shared dinner and margaritas with all the members of our group to discuss plane issues, life, best routes to fly and places to go eat.

He was a successful and talented Electrical Engineer and someone who just loved aviation. His passion for teaching was clear as he enjoyed teaching others to fly to the extent it was hard to get him to accept anything more than a token payment for his time. He didn’t do it for the money, but because it was FLYING! And he loved it.

I’ll leave it to the NTSB to make the determination of probable cause, my intent is to learn from that fact this accident did happen and in light of the WX conditions are there things that I would do to keep me safe in similar circumstances?

To that extent, I say that take-offs are a surprise. Why? It’s been said that while take-offs are optional, landings are clearly NOT.

How can it be said that take-offs are a surprise? Didn’t we go to the airport with the intent and desire to take-off and go somewhere?

This concept comes from my training for the commercial rating. I learned many new habits that I’ll admit I should have been incorporating all along. Whether it was due to several years of not flying and having earned the private license a few decades previous, it was a good thing to learn these new safety related habits.

I’ll admit that learning to do passenger pre-start safety briefings and departure briefings felt awkward, as well as talking to myself in doing various callouts during the take-off roll. However I stuck with it and I knew that in the interest of safety, these were things a competent pilot needed to do. I was learning a new mindset and for that I was thankful.

Part of that departure briefing included what we expect to happen, and what to do in the event something didn’t go as planned. This is where the surprise comes in.

My CFI, Jason Miller, told me that I should plan on aborting EVERY take-off and be surprised if the engine keeps running and we can accelerate to rotation speed and can fly away.

Even after that point we should be ready to react in case it fails on climb-out and we need to do something. Whether it’s landing straight ahead or making a slight turn to avoid obstacles, we need to be ready until the first 1000’ is under us and we have an extra moment to evaluate our situation.

A lot of the scenarios we practice involve emergencies at higher altitudes or in cruise flight. The failure we train for most on takeoff is an engine failure and then to a lesser degree instrumentation or loss of radio communication. At cruise altitude we have the luxury of a little time to diagnose, trouble shoot and develop a plan of action.

I remember a flight my buddy took years ago as a newly minted pilot. Returning from LA to Northern CA he faced higher than expected headwinds. He started getting nervous as the rental had fuel gauges that made it hard to accurately tell the quantity. This was a late night flight and would require a $20 fee to call someone from home to get fuel as this was before the 24 hour self serve pump era. He at least had time and altitude to consider his options. He now knows landing and paying the fee was cheap insurance and peace of mind even though he arrived safely but had cut his fuel reserve close.

I too have my own fuel story, but I used it as a learning experience to shape my practices today so that my reserves are higher and I’ll make the extra stop even if not really needed.

Sometimes the lessons we learn come from close calls, and in other cases from fatal accidents. Set some personal minimums and then STICK to them.

Part of our preparedness is to plan for the time when things do go wrong.

What are the action items for an electrical system failure?

What if the vacuum system failed?

What if an engine failed?

What if my engine fails at 200’? At 500’? At 1000’?

What if any of these occur in IMC?

Each altitude has different action plans and alternatives. Are we ready for each? Have YOU asked WHAT IF?

What if?….. What if?….

Were you surprised the engine didn’t fail so you could continue the take-off? You need to be surprised. Or did you firewall the throttle, waited a few seconds and pulled back, just EXPECTING all to go well?

I know I am asking WHAT IF now.

Now think of having to do that at 100 to 200 feet in IMC. That is a critical time to have to do this. Whether it’s diagnosing an engine or vacuum system failure affecting the attitude indicator to keep us upright, we need to have a back up plan before we start the take-off and be ready to react.

By doing the departure briefing I was reminding myself what I would do in various circumstances. It helped me to be spring loaded to react.

The same needs to be done for low visibility take-offs. I practiced how to do it during instrument training and to maintain aircraft control during the take-off roll.

These include failures of the vacuum system or an issue with the pitot static system that gives us the all important attitude information to keep the shiny side up.

Can we brush up our basic attitude flying skills? What about practicing partial panel? Could we practice a partial panel take-off to simulate a vacuum failure at rotation under the watchful eyes of a CFII of course. For those of you that are multi-rated, how proficient at single engine operations are you? Are you ready for an engine to fail and have practiced the procedures required?

I use a portable GPS as do many others and appreciate its many abilities including the terrain awareness so I know what’s out there if I’m in IMC or at night. Those mountains have a habit of being dark and unlit at night.

I had never thought of having the simulated panel page of the GPS up and displayed on take-off in case of an instrumentation failure. I love having the GPS for the battery powered backup navigation in case of an electrical failure. But never for a moment did I think it could serve a purpose on take-off. I may never do a take-off with a 100’ ceiling but the idea is the same.

Isn’t this why we got the instrument rating after all? To blast through a low fog layer into clear air a 1000’ above us? We need to remember that getting there carries with it certain risks during the first few minutes of flight that we need to be prepared for to the extent we possibly can.

On a recent flight I did put the GPS into the simulated panel page and thought of actually using it after rotation in IMC.

Would it have made a difference in the chaos of either an engine failure or dizziness caused from spatial disorientation from entering IMC so quickly after rotation?

It may not have, so make no mistake about it, I’m in no way implying I have found the cause or solution to this terrible accident, as the details and causes are unknown. It just got me thinking to look at my own safety practices and ask,

WHAT IF? WHAT IF?

It’s been a few weeks since the accident that took our friend and colleague.

I’m having trouble coming to terms with this one. This was a seasoned and skilled pilot. It’s not my intent to analyze this accident and say what went wrong. My desire was to learn from this and see what I can do different to make me safer.

This means keeping my skills sharp and using anything at my disposal to stay upright as best I can.

If I’m ever not surprised, I’d like to think I thought of and practiced the right WHAT IF for that situation. That’s what we do as safe pilots.

So I put this question to you, are YOU thinking WHAT IF?

Will I be surprised at my next take-off? I hope so.
I WANT to be surprised on my next take-off, and a million more after that……..

I’d like to thank all the CFI’s I have learned from over the years.

Todd Bennett, Doug Groom, Dan Adams, Ewe Lemke, Steve Philipson, Jason Miller, and especially Doug Bourn.

Forget the Dr. title, I want CFI after my name. It’s coming, I can feel it.

All of you set a high standard I too aspire to attain and will teach ALL of my students to think of

WHAT IF…. WHAT IF….

____________________________________________

More information about Doug Bourn is available at http://dougbourn.blogspot.com/.

You can e-mail Ron Klutts at rklutts@mac.com, connect with him on myTransponder as CaptainRon, or or follow him on Twitter as @Captain_Ron.

What I Mean by "Epic"


We sling around the word “epic” a little too freely, thinks I. And I guess that I’m more prone so say something like that after the last few days. They’ve been – well – epic.

When last I posted, I was at the hotel on Whiteman AFB in Missouri. After shutting down and clearing out, Rod Rakic and I headed out onto the base.

The first order of business was to secure breakfast. It turns out that, as the Alamo and Riverwalk are to San Antonio, the breakfast burritos at the bowling alley are to Whiteman AFB. No fewer than three people volunteered that the breakfast burritos at the bowling alley were second to none and suggested that we’d be fools not to try them out. And they were right!

Rod then dragged me to Military Clothing Sales to right a wrong that he has been seeing in my Air Force cover for months. I procured the largest one they offered (7-7/8) and it’s still a little small, but serviceable.

Then on to the good stuff. We were guests in the tower to see how operations work at the base for the B-2 Spirit stealth bomber. Everything you’d expect to see in a regular FAA tower, but about twice the personnel and A-10s, T-38s, and attack helicopters also launching regularly. And, when it came time to launch the B-2 training sorties, let’s just say that we had a unique view from close up. OPSEC suggests that I say little more, but it was a completely new experience for me.

Shortly thereafter, we got some lunch and then headed to the training center for a couple of sorties in the Level D full-motion B-2 simulator. (Yeah, I said Level D full-motion B-2 simulator!)

Side note: Please pardon the lack of pictures or other multimedia. I left the cameras and other shovels and rakes and implements of the podcaster’s craft back in the car. OPSEC is king there at Whiteman and I wanted to be a good guest. I know that I’m the guy in the new-media community who’s the first to shout at another new-media guy, “If you didn’t get audio and video, it didn’t happen!” Fair enough. The following didn’t happen.

The facility is in a vault (!) in the interior of the building with all kinds of security surrounding it. And that’s the security that we could see. I’m guessing that there were lavers upon layers of it that we couldn’t even tell were there.

I’ve never been in a sim facility before that was this sophisticated or realistic. You walk over a bridge to the sim compartment, which is itself on hydraulic supports and capable of a wide range of motion in all relevant directions and at all relevant rates. It’s a full B-2 cockpit with a wrap-around video display that cover the entire window area.

Each sortie involved a takeoff, a 30-degree turn (uncharacteristic for this aircraft that likes to stay very flat and present a very limited radar signature), a climb to a KC-135R tanker, various attempts at aerial refueling, then an ILS and landing back at Whiteman.

Rod flew the first sortie and I flew the second. The guy not flying hung out in the control room with the sim technician and watched a set of panels and a view “outside” while listening to the conversation in the cockpit.

Each sortie was about 0.7 long with the IP in the left seat and Rod or me in the right seat. You have a stick in your right hand and a fistful of throttles in your left hand. The PTT for the intercom is on the throttles. There are varying levels of automation and you engage them at various points after takeoff to assist in flying the aircraft.

Takeoff was surprisingly normal-feeling. Just a lot bigger and more protracted. Not unlike flying the DC-3 or another large aircraft that actually has vertical control surfaces to speak of. There’s a long takeoff roll and then you rotate off at well in excess of the cruising speed of most of the aircraft that I usually fly. Once established, you let the autopilot fly the climb airspeed until it’s time to pitch over for cruise.

At that point, the sim causes a KC-135R to appear magically in front of you and you climb to meet it. Boy, do I have a lot of respect for anyone who gets gas in mid-flight! I suppose I had already begun to have that respect from the sortie last summer in the KC-135R from Grissom ARB. But the process from the “get” side is awe-inspiring.

I was really saturated throughout the refueling process. But I remember stealing glances at the airspeed indicator and kicking myself for being two knots off. Two knots makes a big difference. It’s a walking pace. You can cover a lot of linear distance in ten seconds at two knots. Enough to blow right out of the top, bottom, or sides of the 2,000 or so cubic feet that I’m guessing make up the volume in which you can receive gas.

And the B-2, like any other large aircraft, reacts slowly and deliberately to control inputs. If you’re moving the controls in response to what you see out the window right now, you’re just piling up pilot-induced oscillations. What you see out the window and on the displays is the aircraft reacting to what you did three to seven seconds ago. It’s like playing guitar plugged into a long delay effect. You’re listening to what you did awhile ago, but you have to play now to make stuff happen in a few seconds or the whole thing gets downright un-musical in a hurry.

Rod and I each had boom strikes on the windshield and we caused permanent simulated psychological damage to the simulated boom operator. Neither of us actually got connected to the tanker. But neither of us killed anyone, either.

Each of us confided to the other after the experience that he was hoping like hell that the other guy wouldn’t get any gas. KMHL to KPWK is a long time to spend in a C-182T with a guy who got gas when you didn’t.

Rod got the better landing. You don’t flare the B-2. It’s a flying wing. You just point it at the touchdown zone and roll the power to idle. The airplane flares itself. I had a hard time with that and had to push a little at the IP’s call. Rod just flew the thing on. Cool on his part, but not enough to make the flight back to Chicagoland in said C-182T any worse than it needed to be.

And I guess I got the last word by remembering to bring my logbook. The IP signed it for the sortie and an already cool logbook got one notch cooler.


We got back into the minivan and headed back to Marshall (KMHL) to preflight, fuel up, and get back to Chicagoland. We launched just before sunset and air-filed back to Chicago Executive (KPWK). It was severe clear most of the way back with stars guiding the way, but the destination was iffy. A low-pressure system was dominating the whole area. KPWK was forecast to be 1,000 overcast with four miles or so of visibility and we were good to go with that. Two G1000-qualified aircrew in a good airplane with lots of alternate options.

As we neared the area, the METAR had dropped to 300 overcast with low visibility in mist. We were busting through banks of stratus and cumulus clouds, although the ride was mostly smooth. We got within 10 miles or so of the airport, snatching glances down through breaks in the clag to see the whole area around KPWK socked in.

We had briefed minima for our aircrew of 1,000 ft ceilings and three miles of visibility. There was some temptation to go down for a peek, but I’m proud to say that this aircrew planned the flight and flew the plan. Rod keyed up ATC and requested a diversion to DuPage (KDPA). We got vectors immediately and planned for the ILS.

The approach got downright interesting. We spotted the runway from two miles outside the final approach fix. About that time, KDPA tower advised us that visibility was at a half mile – minimums for this approach. We let the tower know that we could plainly see the runway. The tower allowed as how the other end of the airfield might be worse than our end of the airfield. In any case, we had both FAA minima (according to the AWOS) and out own minima (according to two installations of the Mark II Eyeball) and Rod brought her in for a good landing.

As it turns out, the other end of the field was socked in pretty well. I recall offering Rod $100 cash if he’d shut off the strobes sooner rather than later. But we made the taxi to Illinois Wing CAP headquarters without incident and buttoned up the aircraft for the night.


The next day was a training exercise for the Illinois Wing. As many of you know, I’m planning to attend Civil Air Patrol Mission Aircrew School at the National Emergency Services Academy next month and get trained to be a mission pilot. In order to do that, I need to first, among other things, become a mission scanner. I had completed all of the requirements other than a couple of technical operational items and flying on two training sorties. I’ve been slightly bunched up about the possibility of not getting the sorties in and missing the chance to go to MAS, So I lined up three opportunities in the hopes of hitting two.

The first was an Illinois Wing exercise on Saturday. Rod had arranged to let me fly on an aircrew in the exercise to known out a sortie there before driving home. The next opportunity was a Michigan Wing SAREX at KFNT the next day and, if one of those opportunities blew out, I had a self-funded unit sortie scheduled for Tuesday.

I got the Saturday sortie after the weather cleared up at KDPA. I sat front seat with Rod and we had the privilege of flying with 1Lt Tommy Whang and 1Lt Sheri Sorenson in the back. Sheri was flying a scanner sortie and the Tonny was shooting photos to maintain a qualification.


We located the target northwest of the Chicago area, did an expanding square pattern with the help of the G1000 and the GFC 700 autopilot before getting the required pictures and heading home.

I beat feet for home and arrived at KFNT early the next morning. After cooling my heels at the mission base for a few hours, Capt Norm Malek and 2Lt Dave wood arrived with the KPTK C-182T. We drew a sector search with a start at a lat-long point and a full mow of the lawn for the rest of the sector if we didn’t find anything. And there was a photo mission to boot on the way back.


We arrived at the start point and I set up the search with the G1000. The amount of time that I have in this particular airplane, together with the seven or more hours I’d spent sitting behind the G1000 over the prior few days, made setting up the search second nature and I had us in an expanding square in no time.

By the fourth leg of the square, Dave spotted a blue tarp and the letters “CAP” mowed into the grass behind a house in the search area. We radioed in to base and were instructed to photograph the find and then return to base.

Mission scanner sortie no. 2 complete! Locked and loaded for MAS and NESA 2010! And the end of an exhausting and challenging four days in a flight suit.

Which brings me back to the epic-ness of the last few days. We spend amazing amounts of time, money, and energy learning how to fly. How to make airplanes perform missions to their full potential. And, all too often, it’s simulated ersatz stuff. Hoods instead of clouds. Discussions of hypothetical weather on hypothetical trips to hypothetical places. Calculating weight and balance for people in the back seat who never actually sit there.

I’m not saying that those exercises aren’t useful. They are. But it’s not hard to arrive at a state of mind in which the hypothetical is enough. Is all you need. Is normal.

I’m here to tell you that it’s not enough and you shouldn’t let it be normal. It’s not easy to decide to launch into known weather on one of the longest trips you’ve ever flown. In strange airspace. To strange airports. With the very real challenge of thinking on your feet when things don’t go as planned. Then doing it at night in sustained actual IMC with low ceilings and wildly varying visibility. Then launching with a CAP aircrew to go find stuff on the ground that, although simulated, is real enough for you because you’re up there packing crazy amounts of workload into limited bandwidth and actually putting the words of the MART into action and objectively demonstrating skills.

None of this stuff is easy. Especially the first time. And the general aviation training culture seems pretty willing to let you keep pretending as long as you like.

But I’m here to tell you that the hard stuff is worth it. I just got a four-day immersive demonstration of that very thing. I stretched just about every limit I had and the preparation and willingness to go launch into it paid off. This is epiphany. This is discovery.

This is epic.