The answer is definitely not just that they’ve flown a lot of hours. We place too much importance on hours. It’s entirely possible, for instance, for an airline pilot to have 20,000 hours and still embarrass himself in a Cessna 172 or a Piper J–3 Cub. It’s not the number of hours a pilot has flown that makes him a better pilot but what kind of hours he’s flown—and how he has flown them.
The what measures the kind of flying a pilot has been doing. Five hundred cross-country hours in a Cirrus, for instance, is entirely different from 500 hours that includes 100 hours of taildragger time in three different airplane types as a CFI; 100 hours towing gliders; 75 hours giving rides in sailplanes; and 150 hours flying fishermen into lakes in a 180 Cessna on floats. Although the 500 hours in the Cirrus may make the pilot better at understanding the airway system and IFR procedures, his skills were honed by a single operating environment in a single airplane. The 500-hour pilot with a widely varied background is likely to have better basic flying skills because her muscle memories and skills have been forced to be flexible and adaptable.
The how refers to the way in which a pilot has mentally and physically approached and conducted each flight. It’s one thing to hop in an airplane, blast off the runway, punch an altitude into the autopilot, hit the direct-to button, and pop open a diet soda as soon as the airplane levels at cruise altitude. It’s an entirely different thing to hand-fly the airplane as much as practical while, at the same time, doing everything possible to keep the “basics” as perfect as possible: ball centered, airspeed exact, compass heading exact, and more.
Defining the super pilot
How do we identify super pilots without flying with them? If we hang around the airport much we’ll see them in action and may interact with them at the coffee pot. In both situations, without meaning to, we judge them by how they fly, their demeanor, and what our conversations with them reveal.
Not once while we’re deciding which pilots are super good do we actively identify the individual traits that put them in that category. It’s not something we think about. However, if forced to verbalize why we think so-and-so is one of the good ones, we can almost always come up with something we observed that told us in which group he belongs. When we do that, we are identifying a piloting characteristic that is worth mimicking if we want to get better.
10 super pilot traits to be copied
When discussing what puts a pilot in the “super” category, we’re talking about sometimes gossamer, difficult-to-describe characteristics. However, here’s a list of a few of the more identifiable traits that we can work into our own flying habits.
- Type-hunting as a skill developer. Virtually every pilot we put in the excellent/super group has one trait that is probably not obvious unless it comes up in conversation: She really enjoys flying new types of aircraft. In so doing, she is constantly having her skills challenged and fine-tuned by different airplane models. The impact of flying different types of airplanes on a pilot’s skills cannot be overemphasized. However, we don’t have to be flying myriad antiques and warbirds for it to have effect. All we have to do is make an effort to periodically trade our trusty Cessna 172 for time in a 182, then a Piper Warrior and on to a Diamond Katana or a Diamond Star—the more, the merrier. This not only makes us better pilots but is also fun.
- Consistently short approaches. The people we associate with a higher level of skill virtually never disappear from sight while making an approach. Regardless of what kind of airplane they’re flying, be it a Cub or a light twin, they’ll tailor the size of the approach to the airplane. If it doesn’t demand a long approach, they don’t fly a long approach. While watching them, it’s obvious that they have perfect control and can manage the energy and the flight path exactly. They are paying close attention to details, just as we should.
- Landings are always “pretty.” It’s one thing to land an airplane nicely and another thing entirely to make it a work of art. That’s what the really good pilots all strive for. Assuming a tricycle-gear airplane, they’ll gently put it on the mains. Then, they’ll hold the nose off for a period of time and slowly lower it to the runway before the tail runs out of air, letting the nose fall. That’s not difficult to do, but it is seldom seen and shows that a pilot values finesse as much as he does pure function.
- Crosswind landings are stable. The wind will be howling and the number of go-arounds by those in the pattern almost matches the number of approaches. Lots of aircraft are wallowing around, as pilots fight with their airplanes in an effort to touch down. Our hero pilot will come down final and, as he flares, the airplane appears to be on rails. His myriad tiny, but firm control inputs aren’t visible as he reacts to what the wind is trying to do to the airplane. Obviously, at some point in the past he decided crosswind landings were something to be mastered—not avoided—and he spent the time mastering them. We can all learn from that.
- ETAs are exact. He calls his home field saying he’ll be back at such and such a time and, consistently, when he enters downwind it’s within a minute or two of when he forecast his return. It’s possible that although he has ForeFlight showing him the way and is sharpening his estimates, he sat down before takeoff with a sectional, drew a course line, got a briefing from flight service, and got the en-route winds. In the airplane, he uses his GPS as most others do, but it is only confirming what he already knows. He leaves nothing to chance or approximation.
- His visual perception is better than most. There’s an old flying axiom that says, “You can’t fix, what you can’t see.” The more critical we are about what we’re seeing in the windshield—the spatial relationship of the nose and the wings to the horizon—the better our control of the airplane will be. Everything that happens on the instrument panel in terms of speed and altitude is historical, because it happens in the windshield first and the instruments lag behind. The really good pilots are so attuned to changes in the windshield that they see what is happening and correct it before the gauges have enough time to show it. So, they are always ahead of what’s happening. For us to do the same is simple: We just have to realize that looking is not the same as seeing. We need to be relating the nose to the horizon and seeing where it should be and then training ourselves to catch the slightest deviation. It’s a skill that doesn’t cost a dime and all it takes is a little self-awareness. This alone will make a better pilots out of all of us.
- Turbulence has no effect. Whether she’s in a Cessna 152 or a Beechcraft Bonanza, her movements are not as noticeable as others’ when getting beaten up by turbulence on approach. Her secret is rooted first in her increased visual perception but also in not fighting the turbulence. Overcontrolling turbulence corrections often makes the situation worse. In the act of fighting turbulence, if the pilot isn’t matching the aileron inputs with perfect rudder inputs, and she’s using too much control movement, the nose will be yawing around. So, unless a wing goes down and stays down, the good pilot ignores the turbulence and lets the airplane average the bumps. When she does make corrections, they are minimal and totally coordinated so the ball never moves and the nose stays put.
- She knows the technologies of flight. The great pilot understands and can explain everything that her airplane does. She has studied the aerodynamics so that, for instance, when she starts putting the flaps down, she understands what they are going to do to her lift, drag, and attitude and knows how to compensate for what’s about to happen. Because she understands the concepts, she, again, is always ahead of the airplane. When she’s discussing a flight situation in the pilot’s lounge, the depth and precision in the way she describes something says she knows exactly what she’s talking about. That’s a trait that’s well worth emulating because understanding the whys and wherefores of an airplane’s behavior makes everyone a better pilot.
- Control is liquid smooth. If you’re in the cockpit with an excellent pilot, her smoothness is immediately apparent. Rather than actually moving the controls, she is pressuring them. This allows her to always be flowing into the right position without overshooting and then correcting back. The difference between control movement and control pressures is significant.
- He has a well-trained butt. An educated butt is one of the most overlooked areas of making a pilot better than his peers. Being aware of the changing pressures where the seat/posterior interface occurs guarantees that the pilot is part of his airplane and is intuitive in keeping the ball centered at all times. This means everything he does is more precise. Don’t laugh. This really works!
There is no magic involved in becoming a better pilot and, while there are some natural pilots who are born to it, the rest of us can close the gap on the super pilots by putting in a surprisingly small amount of effort. So, let’s have at it. What’s holding you back?