The Check Ride

Well, its a wrap. The checkride and the LOFT are complete, I'm back at home, and I have a pretty interesting flight schedule for February. I thought some of you might like the play-by-play for my final checkride.

First of all, if you want to get some idea of what any checkride is like, watch this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQjDFM1x4iw
Sorry the link won't work. Just cut and paste into your browser...it's worth the effort!

So, with that done, here's how my ride went. Up at 0350, shower, dress, and one last review of the profiles. Check my chart case one last time to ensure I have all of my chart and pub revisions installed, grab a bite to eat, and out the door at 0440, ariving at the training center at 0440.

At about 0455 my Captain arrives, and we introduce ourselves to one another. John has been with the company for several years, and is not senior enough to yet hold a line, so he's been spending a lot of time on reserve. At least he is at home with his two young sons a good bit of time. At just after 0500 our check airman arrives, yet another John. John describes the morning plan, tells me I'll be picking up the aircraft at gate T2 in Atlanta (gulp! I've never flown to/from Atlanta before) for a scheduled flight to Minneapolis. Naturally he explains, we probably won't get there!

John takes my current license, checks my passport and medical certificate, reviews my training records, and then hands me a copy of my pre-departure paperwork which includes the flight plan and TLR (takeoff and landing report). A quick review shows that we have no aircraft equipment deferred (broken), the weather looks bad (cold and very low visibility fog), and we've got a full load of passengers and partial load of fuel. Final passenger weight and balance data will be sent via ACARS during the taxi out. John the check airman leaves, and John the Captain and I have a few minutes to discuss the plan. John tells me just to relax, fly like I've learned, and to work as a team.

The check airman then tells us to saddle up and get to work. I'm the first in the sim, so I run the power initialization check which brings power on the aircraft and starts the IRS system warming up. (the "inertial navigation" IRS, not the "bend over and spread 'em April 15" IRS). Things continue smoothly through the checklist and it is not long before I've copied the current weather, our ATC clearance, and have the flight plan loaded into the FMS system. We are now ready for pushback and engine start, which goes well and no anomalies are injected.

We taxi out with a reported RVR (visibility) of about 600 feet, so it is pretty foggy. I try to stay heads-up to help so that both the Captain and I are watching out for other aircraft, and follow along on my low-vis taxi chart. Almost to the runway I receive my load data, so I warn Captain John that I'll be heads down while finishing the FMS programming. About the time I have this completed, we are at the runway and ready, and about then we receive the call that ATC has changed their mind and now wants us to depart a different runway. Not a big deal, except that I have to re-program the FMS with the new departure runway, and a quick check of the TLR to see if our takeoff flap setting is different (it is) or our engine-out obstacle clearance procedures change (they do not). Final before takeoff checks, runway item checks, and we're now on the runway ready for departure.

Power up, two good engines, thrust set and we pass V1 without any problems, and at Vr I rotate and lift off. When the Captain sees the VSI indicating we're climbing he calls "Positive rate". In response I call "Gear up, speed mode and heading", which is directing John to raise the landing gear and to place my flight director in the speed and heading mode. At 600 feet altitude John turns the autopilot on in response to my commands. At 1000 feet altitude I accelerate the aircraft to 200 knots, and call for flaps up. Once the flaps are tucked away I change our climb speed to 250 knots. During all of this, John is communicating with ATC, changing frequencies, and is calling up new fixes on the FMS in response to ATC clearance changes. As we pass though 5000 feet at 250 knots, we start to feel like we've caught up and we receive a "Left Main Ejector Fail" caution light, meaning that we've got potential problems with our fuel system. Since I'm flying, I take over radio #1 to talk with ATC while John calls our Maintenance folks to discuss the issue. Naturally Maintenance wants us to return the aircraft to Atlanta.

Because the visibility is very low (still 600 RVR), we are cleared for the Cat II ILS approach. You will remember from a few posts ago that a Cat II approach is one that allows us to come VERY close to the ground before having visual contact with the ground. During a Cat II approach, the First Officer always flies, the Captain always monitors, and the autopilot is always engaged. When we get down to the Decision Altitude (something like a little over 100 feet above the runway, going about 150 knots by the way), the Captain will either say "My aircraft, landing" where he will take over and land if he sees the runway, or "No contact. Go around" if he does not. Naturally on our first approach he does not see the runway, so I execute the missed approach. So, here you have a 75,000 pound aircraft at 100 feet, descending at 800 feet per minute at 150 knots. The First Officer must quickly power up, pitch up, and convince the aircraft to reverse its descent. It is not uncommon for the aircraft wheels to actually touch the pavement on a Cat II go around, but ours do not this time. We notify ATC about our missed approach and they vector us for another try.

Approach #2 looks until we are about two miles from the runway, when the Captain's flight director fails. Two flight directors are needed for a Cat II approach, so once again we break off and fly the missed procedure, telling ATC about our equipment failure, which miraculously is repaired. Around we go for try #3, and exactly at the decision altitude, the Captain sees the runway, takes control and safely lands us. Taxi clear of the runway, after takeoff checks completed, and back for another takeoff.

Again we perform a normal takeoff, except that this time the check airman directs me to ignore the throttles, which he proceeds to idle, which results in a departure stall from which I quickly recover. Climb out for vectors for the GPS approach, and suddenly we get an engine fire. First of all, an "engine fire" in a jet engine is a misnomer. Hell, if the engine is running, it is already on fire. An engine fire simply means that something has happened and the fire has gotten somewhere it does not belong. For any engine fire you take your time and the pilot not flying works slowly though the checklists while the pilot flying does just that...flies the aircraft. We get the engine shutdown and the fire out, so it is back to the airport for an uneventful single engine approach and landing, hand flown since the autopilot also failed. Fire trucks meet us on the runway and all is good.

Next takeoff goes well, except that an engine flames out at V1 on the takeoff roll, and the auto relight does not work. We perform an airborne start and get it running, so it is back to the airport since no one wants to fly with an engine that flamed out for an unknown reason. Set up for the localizer approach and once again, the check airman directs me to ignore the throttles, which he once again places in idle, resulting in an approach stall. Once again, recover, execute the missed approach, and notify ATC. Fly the vectors for another attempt, shoot the approach, and successfully land. Taxi to the gate, and the ride is over!

About two and a half hours, plus brief and debrief time, and it is a full morning. I walk away the very proud owner of a new CL-65 (CRJ) type rating with a Second in Command limitation, knowing that it will only be a few days before I get to fly the real McCoy. That is currently scheduled for this Wednesday, and will be the subject of my next post.

Thanks for riding along on this journey with me, and a special thanks to Cathy, Gene, Ty, Jeff and Rick, all who have been sending me lots of encouragement along the way. I wish you all could be there on my first flight.

Short Final

Two simulator sessions and the final checkride to go, oral exam passed, less than a week before I start my IOE, my ground-based training is down to the wire. Things are really coming together and I am spending less time worrying about furlough and more time excited about the fact that I'm soon to be doing what I signed up for...flying the CRJ-900 in revenue flight.

First, my 2 cents on US Air 1547 and their miraculous ditching on the Hudson River this week. I don't wish to take anything at all away from Captain "Sully" Sullenberger, but I wish that the news media would acknowledge that there were a total of five crewmembers on that flight, and each of them contributed to the successful outcome. Secondly, the Captain's skill not withstanding, God was truly the copilot on that flight. There are simply too many variables that could have led to a horrible crash not to give credit to God's will. I believe that each person on board that aircraft that day understands this; I only wish others would.

Here's the scoop on my training progress. To date, my sim partner and I have completed seven simulator sessions for a total of 28 hours of high intensity training. Although we've done a pretty good job so far, there have been some screw ups, and our instructors have on occasion had to give us some "Special High Intensity Training". Believe me, I am not complaining, because in every instance the S.H.I.T. was well deserved, and we are better pilots because of the S.H.I.T. we received from our instructors. Scott and I have developed a good rapport, and on occasion will even give one another some S.H.I.T. In this rapid-paced, high pressure training environment, you simply have to shake off the mistakes (and the S.H.I.T. they precipitate), learn from them, and move on. If you concentrate too much on all of the S.H.I.T and nothing else, you'll end up with S.H.I.T. for brains.

A typical simulator session goes like this: start on the ground at MSP, DFW, RST or CWA. Run power initialization and acceptance checklist. Run engine start checklist and spool 'em up. If both engines are started and neither has a hot start, hung start, or other starting anomaly, consider yourself lucky. Taxi out for departure and takeoff. Again, if you get airborne with both engines still running, it is a miracle because we typically have one burst into flames, flameout, or ingest a bird on the takeoff roll. Once airborne, don't relax, since in the next two hours you can expect countless system failures and emergencies. Set up for the single engine approach and learn that you'll have to hand fly in since the autopilot has crapped out. If you are good (and lucky) enough to break out of the weather and have the runway in sight, plan on another aircraft screwing up and creating a runway incursion, causing you to have to go around on the single engine. When all of the systems are working well, count on Mother Nature giving you some S.H.I.T. I was on approach to landing and flew into a severe windshear microburst. I flew the windshear recovery profile, and although I managed to get the aircraft safely away from the ground, the instructor told me my radar altitude was down to 20 feet at one point. Talk about hand of God! After two solid hours of flying doom and gloom, land, pause, take a quick break, swap seats and hit it again for two hours. When the four hour session is complete, we retire to a debrief room where we spend an hour or so discussing what we learned, or should have learned, what we did right, and just as importantly, what we did not do right. When we do something really stupid, a little S.H.I.T. is in order. Go to the hotel, take a much needed nap, eat a bite, then plan the next day's flight. Go to bed at 9:00, get up at 4:00 the next morning, study for an hour, then head back to school and back into the box.

My oral exam was uneventful and went very well. I only had one instance of brain flatulence, and Todd the instructor actually thanked me for being well-prepared, saying that it makes his job much more enjoyable when students put in the required effort. Like with all other instructors we've encountered, Scott and I were very impressed with how professional and sincere Todd was. I have really enjoyed learning from all of our instructors.

We have our Category II approach simulator qualifications this afternoon (sessions 8 and nine were rescheduled for 5 PM vice 5 AM), and then our final "practice" session tomorrow evening. Although I have Tuesday off, I can't concentrate on preparing for Wednesday's checkride because I have to prepare to give a legal deposition to attorneys for the California Secretary of State on Wednesday afternoon, some leftover baggage from my previous career. So, after almost two months of training, instead of being able to celebrate when I've finished my final evaluation, I get to come back to the hotel and spend many hours being deposed. Ah, life's small pleasures.

Here are some fun facts to close with. I left home for this adventure 50 days ago. In those 50 days, I've had 156 hours of classroom instruction, 20 hours of FTD training and 28 hours of simulator training. I've also been away from Cathy 44 of the 50 days, and missed Christmas and New Year's Day with her, and have been paid about $2055 for attending training. The training has been fantastic, but the separation from Cathy has been difficult. Is it worth it? In my opinion, absolutely, but Cathy gets a vote too, and although she continues to voice her support for me, I know that my busy training schedule makes our separation easier on me than on her. When you are in a relationship, both people have skin in the game of chasing dreams. Each day I think about how important her support is, and how fortunate I am to have her in my life. My only method of paying it back is to apply myself as best I can during our separation and try to be at home as much as possible. I now have a flight schedule for February, and it looks like we'll be apart on our anniversary, a first of us. I am not complaining, because this is what I signed up for, and it makes me realize that each and every day, men and women in this career field put up with stress, low pay, and separation from loved ones. You have to work very hard for a very long time to realize the true benefits of this profession, the ability to bid a schedule that allows a lot of time to spend with family. I know that I'm still at the bottom of the food chain, and have a long way to go. All of that being said, I'm still very excited for having the opportunity to experience all of this. The price of dreams.

Blessings and tailwinds, and if life forces you to ditch, may you do it Sully-style!

Out of the FTD and into the Box!

A lot has transpired since my last posting, but the big news for those following from the last post is that no furloughs have occurred and I'm still employed and in training. Truly this IS the season of miracles! While the company tries to take stock of our pilot manning situation, my partner Scott and I have started and completed FTD training, and as of today are in the "box".

Last week we spent five days on the Flight Training Device, or FTD, which is basically several large LCD touchscreens mounted so as to resemble the layout of the CRJ flight deck arrangement. There was no control yoke so there was no real flying to do, but each switch throughout the flight deck would respond to touch and would reposition as appropriate. Some readers may have experienced a "paper tiger", or a cardboard mock up of the flight deck on which countless flight crews have trained. The FTD is the 21st century version of that, so I guess you could call it an electronic tiger. Although you could not fly the FTD, it is a fantastic way to learn switch functions and locations, and the corresponding aircraft responses. In the FTD we learned how to bring power onto a cold, dark aircraft, start and secure engines, perform normal takeoff and landings, and most importantly, we learned the "flows" and "callouts" required for each evolution of flight.

A flow is a series of switch changes needed to preform some evolution, and is followed by a checklist verification. For instance, after the engines are started, the Captain and the First Officer will perform their respective after start flows, and then the Captain will call "after start check". The First Officer will then read down the after engine start checklist, and as each item is called, the Captain and/or First Officer will visually verify the item was completed and then the appropriate person will announce "checked", "completed", "set", or whatever is appropriate for that item. Once the checklist is completed, the First Officer announces "after start check completed". This may sound like it is scripted, and that is exactly what it is. Each item must not only be correctly accomplished, but the challenge and response on the checklist must be stated/responded to in exactly the correct wording. Word for word, item by item. No ad lib, no "close enough". Exactly as per the Pilot Operating Manual. Although my partner has never flown jet aircraft before, he attended Embry Riddle University and their CRJ First Officer program, so most of this is second nature to him. Unfortunately, silly old me is still struggling to "un-learn" some Falconisms that keep haunting me. In the Falcon, the parking brake is "set". In the CRJ, the parking brake is "on". This may sound trivial, but it is not. Until I can do business the company CRJ way, I will not pass my checkride.

Today we had our first session in the actual simulator, or the "box". As shown on the photo above, the simulator is about three stories high, is mounted on several hydraulic actuator legs, and can move about all axis. It is a Level D simulator, meaning that it has fantastic graphics and can simulate both day and night visuals. You enter the simulator by crossing a catwalk on the second story, passing through the back of the control cab where the instructor sits and plays his various instruments of torture, to the flight deck which is an actual full-size CRJ-900 flight deck including every switch, light, screen, doo-dad, and hoo-be-do that the real McCoy has. You sit down, strap in, and try hard to remember that you are not in the real aircraft. During my Falcon type rating, I flew a Level C simulator, and although that too is impressive, the Level D is truly amazing. Every sound, every bump, flap buffet, engine noise, ATC radio traffic, flight attendant chimes, you name it, it is there. The only thing missing perhaps are cranky passengers, but I'm sure our instructor can fill in for them. Speaking of instructors, once again I have been completely amazed at the quality of instructors we continue to be introduced to. This company has some great people on staff, which makes the training that much easier.

In addition to the basics of flight training, we've been issued our Jep plates and airport directory, and we've already been issued our first Jep revision. I had to break down last week and buy a new chart case, since my old one was brown (wrong color) and was so old I think it was passed down from Orville Wright. Uniforms came in today so I had to try them all on to confirm fit (I have GOT to start eating a little better, or I'll have to let out my pants in the waist!). Although this was just a trial fit and I don't have the company brass (wings and hat design), it was still the first time I've worn a uniform since I last took off my Navy uniform in May 2000. Although I'm not yet worthy of wearing a "real" pilot uniform with wings, I still had to Skype Cathy so she could laugh at my funny hat. The February bid package is out and my name appears on it for the first time, meaning that the schedulers are planning on building me a "green line". In other words, I'm too junior to be able to hold a real bid line, but, because I'm considered green until I have 100 hours in the CRJ, the schedulers will pack in a lot of flight time for me early, as if I were more senior. Although this is great in that I'll get plenty of flight experience early on, as soon as I'm not "green" and I have my 100 hours, I'll drop off the bid and will likely be sitting nothing but reserve for a while. As I've been told, enjoy the green line flying while you can.

That's it for now. Our sim schedule has us briefing at 0500 and in the box at 0600 each day, so its lights out for me at 9:00 pm. That's OK...9:00 is a good bed time for an old fart anyway.

Tailwinds and Blessings!

The F-Bomb!?

Regular readers of the Fledgling Flyer know that I have only been pursuing my airline dream for a month. So, with only one month of ground school behind me and another month to go before my very first CRJ-900 flight, could it be that I might be about to be awakened from this dream and slapped in the face with the F-word...FURLOUGH! Maybe not yet, but suddenly it seems possible.

First of all, a little history. As much as I would like to think that my seasoned flying skills is what made Mesaba hire me, I know that it was a shortage of pilots. More specifically, a shortage of pilots willing to be separated from their families for days on end, bring home about $350 per week, and fly the CRJ-900. The CRJ enters into the equation because Mama Delta promised Mesaba that we would be getting 15 new CRJ-900's for Christmas, and to keep 15 CRJ's flying, you typically hire about 5 crews per aircraft. So, doing a little Jethro Bodine "cyphering" here, 15 CRJ's equals 75 Captains (most moving up from the Saab 340's), 75 new hire CRJ First Officers (enter yours truly), and 150 Flight Attendants (a mixture of new hire and existing employees). Keep in mind that the 75 Captains means that 75 Saab Captain positions are vacated, so existing First Officers now have the opportunity to upgrade to Captain. Upward mobility at its best.

For the last quarter of 2008 this hiring frenzy was pretty much the only airline hiring in the entire US, which explains why so many of the new hire First Officers in my class are furloughed pilots from other airlines. Based on the delivery schedule of the new CRJ's, the company expected to continue hiring and forming classes until March or April 2009. However, like so many others this year, the Christmas present that we wanted so badly did not appear under the tree, and it was announced a day ago that instead of 15 new CRJ's, we'd be getting 5. So, substitute 5 for 15, cypher a little, naught from naught leaves naught, carry the one...you get the picture. Suddenly instead of a hiring craze, the company finds itself with about 100 extra pilots. The party is over; over so quickly in fact that the very next CRJ class that was supposed to start next week has now been cancelled, along with all future CRJ classes. Ouch!

Where does that leave the Fledgling Flyer? First of all, it leaves me in a lot better position than many of the folks who were scheduled for the Jan 5 class, that's for sure. I know for a fact that many of these folks had already given notice to their current employers that they were leaving to join the Mesaba team, which is no longer happening. It also leaves me much better off that some current Mesaba pilots who have been with the company for a while, and were waiting for that elusive upgrade to Captain, which is now less likely. In the notice letter to the company, our CEO stated that furloughs of current employees were not expected, "at this time", but "at this time" ended a minute after that memo was posted. So, my fellow classmates and I are now on the bubble, praying that it does not get popped.

So, as we enter into 2009, it is hard not to feel the spirit somewhat dampened, not so much because I fear that I may be furloughed before I even sit in the flight deck of the CRJ, but because I know how many lives have been affected by this change in plans. Tonight there are many, many pilots and flight attendants who were excited about joining Mesaba in the coming weeks and months who no longer have a job. By the grace of God, I was on the right side of the door when it closed, but I know that I am only one corporate decision, one employee memo away, from having to let go of this dream of airline flying. Don't get me wrong, I would never wish this on anyone, but in some ways it seems almost just that I experience a little turmoil in my airline employment as so many others have. Another ticket punched toward admittance to the airline pilot club.

Every cloud has a silver lining (and a few have mirco bursts and hail, so beware). ASA was awarded the 10 CRJ's that Mesaba did not get, so many of their pilots and flight attendants who were facing furlough now perhaps have a brighter future. They like Mesaba are a part of the Delta family, and for the good of the parent company and the industry, I wish them tailwinds and God Speed. For all of those on the other side of the door when it closed, keep knocking. Those of us blessed enough to be on this side will hopefully continue to do the things needed to keep Mesaba growing and on track for a successful 2009, which will hopefully get that door opened again.

Until I hear otherwise, it is business as usual. FTD's and simulators start soon, and after a couple of days of enjoying some time with Cathy, Randy and Rose in Alberta, it is back to the grind.

Blessings and best of wishes to everyone in 2009!

Christmas from Afar

Like so many others in the Airline Industry, (and military for that matter) I spent Christmas 2008 separated from the ones I love. No pity party here, just the reality of my new chosen career, with little chance of being at home during holidays. As it turns out, others in my family circle had a subdued Christmas too.

As mentioned in last week's post, Cathy and Nikki were able to get away and head up to Alberta to spend Christmas with her Brother Randy, his wife Rose, and their children Justin, Michael, Cassandra, and Jacqueline (oh, and Emmie...Nikki HAS to have a playmate). They had a traditional Newfoundland-style Christmas, with presents, "Jig's Dinner", and simply enjoying being together. If you have never had the pleasure of a Jig's Dinner, imagine a traditional turkey dinner with all of the trimmings, then add some salt beef (complete misnomer...it should be salt fat), figgy duff, and peas pudding, and you've got a Jig's Dinner. By the way, here's a quick lesson for you Yanks out there...Newfoundland is pronounced "NEWfoundland", accent on the first syllable. Most Americans incorrectly pronounce it newFOUNDland. In any case, it is a beautiful place with wonderful warm people, but questionable food. They do have some damn good fish and chips though, even if they do put stuffing and gravy on them!

I was able to speak with both Jamie and Brandon today on the phone. They are with their Mother in Florida, and enjoyed a day at Universal Studios and saw the Blue Man Group. By all accounts they had a fun day. Brandon has decided to attend UCF Engineering when he is released from the Army this Spring, and Cathy and I are excited for him to start down this new path. Jamie is concerned because she works for her fiance's family flooring business, and with the economy the way it is, business is down. Like many others in America, all who work with her are concerned about their jobs and their future.

My Mom and Dennis in Lacey Washington had a non-Traditional Christmas, in that my Sister Lisa and her husband Scott were not able to come up. Normally Mom is praying for a white Christmas, and this year she got her wish, so much so that her and Dennis were pretty much snowed in. They tried to get out of the house for a drive, but almost got stuck. Thankfully neighbors helped get them back in the driveway. Lisa and Scott live in Oregon, and they were thinking of driving down to spend the day with Scott's family. Unfortunately, more snow and ice put the kibosh on that idea, and because Scott's son Sean is spending Christmas with his Mom in California, Lisa and Scott spent a quiet Christmas at home, watching movies and enjoying each other's company, and likely worrying way too much about things they can't control, like the economy, and bad weather that keeps them from family, friends and work.

As for the Fledgling Flyer, I spent the day recovering from the effects of eating a Christmas Eve Chinese dinner. There were about a dozen of my fellow class mates who were spending Christmas here in the hotel, and I thought it would be a good idea to get together with some friends and go out and eat a nice dinner somewhere last night. Unfortunately, I found that almost every restaurant closed around 4:00, so we ended up in the only place open, a Mom and Pop Chinese place. Unfortunately, within an hour of eating I ended up with the "green apple quick steps", or more correctly, the "hot and sour soup quick steps". Melly Cleesmas!

So, today I emptied the stocking Cathy sent me, tearfully read her Christmas card, studied flight controls, hydraulics, navigation, and FMS, talked on the phone with loved ones and friends (thanks for calling Gord, it was GREAT to hear from you!), and swore off Chinese food. I also reflected a lot, and decided that even though we say that Christmas is about being with family, it is not. Christmas is about Christ, and his birth, and all of the things that Christianity is. Yes, Christianity is usually thought of as a family affair, but being a good person can be a solo affair too. Not being with Cathy, my children, or the others in my life that I love does not in any way diminish the importance of the day; yes we can be sad for being apart, but Christmas is still Christmas, and even though apart, we each had a day that was in our own way blessed. Hopefully you did too.

Merry Christmas, God Bless, and remember the ones less fortunate than we!