In attending college, I get to take quite a few interesting classes.  One such elective class, Methods of Criminal Investigation, included a presentation of an accident scene where a plane had crashed and killed all aboard.  Sad circumstances indeed, but the class focused on what caused the horrible images we were looking at.

The circumstances surrounding the crash included a shortage of fuel an a feeble attempt to stretch the last few gallons to reach an airport.  My professor started talking about the speed of the airplane, the angle of approach and the condition of the plane, but I had already made up my mind about the cause of the crash; it all boiled down to a lack of flight planning and a fear of making hard decisions.

I feel for the family that lost their lives and for the pilot that struggled to make it to the airport.  While I feel sympathy, I can't help but wonder why this particular pilot ignored one of the primary lessons any pilot learns when learning to fly: pre-flight planning.  He had filed no flight plan, had no Nav Sheet in the plane and had neglected to get flight-following during his trip.  By time he'd realized he wasn't going to make it on the fuel he had, he was already in trouble.  I can only guess that he tried to stretch the last few gallons of fuel to reach an airport instead of making a safe, power-on landing in a suitable field.

As he approached the airport, he obviously panicked and reached the ground doing roughly 100 knots instead of the 65-75 he should have been doing for that type of plane.  He lost control and slammed into construction equipment along the airport's perimeter.  Rarely am I truly affected by an accident scene or crime scene I see in that class, but this one really pulled at me.  When you know the whole incident was avoidable and that you could have saved their lives had you been involved, it  plucks a heart string or two.

In the end, we study these accidents in hopes that we'll learn from them.  What I take away, and what anyone should take away from this, is that all those flights in primary training that your instructor made you plan aren't for nothing.  I also understand better now why my instructor stressed the idea of making a power-on landing in a field with fuel still in the wings rather than trying to stretch it to an airport you probably won't make.  I encourage all pilots to better appreciate and respect such lessons.  Maybe then we can cut down on scenes like that.

A quick glance through Yahoo! News this morning lead me to a story on the rising number of bird strikes.  It claimed the total number of bird strikes in 2009 could surpass 10,000; a first.  At least 57 cases caused severe damage and a total of 8 people lost their lives.

I think it's fair to assume that people are becoming more diligent in reporting these incidents.  The Hudson River landing by Cpt. Sully cast a national light on the avian-aviator battle in the skies.  Where one in the past might have struck a bird and only had their mechanic look over the plane, the same people are now feeling obligated to report even the smallest tap of a feather.  Is that a bad thing?  No.  It helps keep accurate information on the size and seriousness of the problem.

I think back to all the times I've had near misses.  In the types of planes I fly, you're very often able to see and avoid most birds.  I spend a good bit of time in the pattern and so do the birds; so I've done my share of weaving and bobbing to dart around those tricky winged menaces.

The thought often arises "what would really happen if I did hit one?"  Naturally, I did a little research and found some pretty disturbing pictures of planes like mine that had encountered small birds.  Typically, they showed the mangled leading edge of the wings and/or a shattered windshield.  None of the reports I read said the strike brought the plane down.  Some people had been injured in the shattered windshield category, but none too seriously.  I also read many more reports that claimed the bird simply bounced off the strut/wing/landing gear and caused no damage.

This lead me to believe that if I strike a bird, one of two things will happen.  It'll either be a little bump and a careful return to the airport for a check or it'll be a glassy impact and a frightening return to the airport for help.  I'm not too pleased with the possibility of the second, but the risk is very little and it's worth it.  The risk is greater in a vehicle where the sudden implosion of your windshield has much greater and more immediate consequences.

It's true.  I, of course, learned how to prepare and de-ice the plane in weather like this, but I've only actually done so once or twice.  I fly for fun and on days like today-- it's 19 degrees outside-- it doesn't seem like much fun.  I usually just sit it out.  Even when I don't, I make sure I rent a plane at a place that will do all the prep work for me.  That way, I only have to check over their work.

Any pilot worth his or her salt can immediately notice the difference between their plane in hot weather and the same plane in cold weather.  In the mid-size aircraft I enjoy flying most, the difference is as clear as night and day.  It's almost as if someone opened the door and pushed out a few hundred pounds.  The plane leaps into the air and climbs steep and smooth.

In the end, I always come out thinking the frigid hour or so spent on prep work was well worth the flying time.