Why I like flying

I like the ethos of flight. Absent is the garble that characterizes today’s politics, where loud voices and large budgets shape information and influence outcomes. Flying isn’t arbitrary. It responds to gravity and aerodynamics—basic forces that are consistent everywhere and have been throughout time. The laws of nature that apply to flight are as reliable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. They can be learned and used to enjoy the benefits of flight.

That universality appeals to me. More significantly, that consistency should give students the confidence that the path to becoming a safe and productive pilot is logical and achievable.

I am not suggesting the path is without its challenges, both mental and physical. There is a lot to learn, hand-eye coordination needs to be nurtured, and self-control is a necessity. Atmospheric conditions are always a consideration, regardless of a pilot’s years of experience, and there are no sinecures. There are no substitutes for good decisions—pilots need to stay sharp. In addition to keeping pilots safe, maintaining sharpness has its own rewards. For me, and I suspect many other aviators, being a pilot provides an interesting perspective on life.

The key takeaway is that becoming a pilot, whether for recreation or to earn a living, is a realistic goal worth pursuing. Having a sound foundation in the fundamentals makes the path easier to navigate.

An aircraft responds to gravity and aerodynamic forces created from control inputs or air turbulence. Its motion revolves around the aircraft’s center of gravity in roll, yaw, and pitch. Movement of the controls produces a primary reaction, such as banking of the wing to initiate a turn, and a secondary response that can be less obvious but is nevertheless important. For example, aerodynamic forces from aileron deflection causes rotation about the longitudinal axis (the imaginary line extending from the aircraft’s nose to its tail), but that roll action excites other less obvious responses—namely yaw—away from the direction of the turn (called adverse yaw) as well as a nose-down pitch about its lateral axis. Turbulence also triggers motion about each axis. During flight instruction and practice sessions, pilots learn to neutralize those secondary effects by the proper application of appropriate controls—a process called coordination.

For most tasks, such as airspeed control, there is more than one way to achieve a given objective, such as maintaining a specific reference speed on approach. For example, one way to change airspeed is by adding or reducing power, and the other is to change pitch attitude. Recall the adage, “Attitude determines airspeed.” The pilot’s task is to know the differences in each technique and apply the one that is most effective. Again, using the example of airspeed control, adjusting power results in a relatively slow response in airspeed (especially with the power to weight ratio of typical training aircraft), and changing power affects the aircraft’s trim. Changing pitch attitude is quicker and produces fewer secondary effects. Adjusting attitude is more desirable because it works better.

The response of the typical GA aircraft to control deflection or gusts depends upon center of gravity and weight; while different designs have somewhat different characteristics, aircraft of the same design loaded identically behave the same—another consistency. Hence the value of checkouts in aircraft types not previously flown. In essence, each specific design has its own personality that remains unchanged. There are no moody aircraft.

The bottom line is each design has similar but unique characteristics that, once learned, form the foundation for safe and productive flight. Because aircraft behave in a consistent fashion, learning to fly responds well to standard operating procedures, use of checklists, and recurrent training. That appeals to my sense of order. 

John W. Olcott is an airline transport pilot, CFII, and remote pilot.