Instrument Checkride
flying
I got my instrument rating over the weekend! This will allow me to fly legally under IFR and in weather conditions that would otherwise keep me on the ground.
The instrument checkride consists of oral and flight portions, just like the private pilot checkride I took last year. I passed the instrument oral on the first attempt, but took two tries to complete the practical, which was humbling, but also a learning opportunity.
I flew from Northeast Philadelphia (PNE) to Allentown (ABE) to meet the examiner bright and early on a Sunday. I brought the maintenance logs and my personal documents, and had prepared a cross-country flight plan from ABE to Roanoke (ROA). We did not intend to actually fly to Roanoke, but the examiner’s questions would stem from this planned scenario.
Oral exam
The examiner and I had a nearly 3-hour discussion about regulations, weather, charts, and decision-making, among other topics.
First, he established that the airplane was airworthy and that I was current to make the proposed flight under IFR.
Proficiency versus legal currency came up, and we got onto the subject of personal minimums. I had filled out the Air Safety Institute’s IFR Minimums Contract, but the examiner wanted me to go deeper. He made a point that the stacking effect of an ensemble of risks is more important than a hard cutoff for any one factor.
I caught his drift, and volunteered my perspectives on managing workload using automation, following Part 135/121 rules even under Part 91, and how some types of redundancy, such as a second engine, are actually a bit illusory.
Yes, with twin engines, you will still have thrust in the event that one fails, but you have to react quickly to identify the failure and respond correctly without losing airspeed and positive control. This can kill. Aviation Safety (magazine) and blancolirio (YouTube channel) were foundational to my answers here.
We talked about weather thoroughly, especially fronts, icing, and convective activity. I had to do some real-time thinking about stuff I hadn’t considered before, such as how to tell that I would encounter headwinds on the southerly trip without looking at a Winds Aloft forecast. (Hint: which way do cyclones and anticyclones rotate? What pressure is associated with each?)
The examiner wanted to see systematic understanding of how weather develops — I suppose I did passably well at that. Watching for the Wind (Edinger, 1967) was instrumental in forming that mental picture. With minimal jargon and memorable examples, it is the Stick and Rudder (Langewiesche, 1944) of weather theory.
After our weather discussion, we moved onto interpreting enroute charts and approach plates. I didn’t find it particularly difficult, but make sure you understand the alphabet soup of minimum altitudes: MEA, MCA, MRA, MOCA, OROCA, MSA, TAA.
The Aeronautical Chart User’s Guide is published by the FAA — read it. I am a big believer in studying the most authoritative resources you can find rather than secondhand knowledge (this goes for computer programming, too).
I did get tripped up on a question about 14 CFR 91.175(c): Operation below DA/DH or MDA, specifically about approach lighting systems. From memory, I said that if I have the approach lights in sight, I would not descend below DA without the “red terminating bars” visible, but that answer isn’t quite right. You can descend, but only to the touchdown zone elevation +100 feet, at which point if you still have no other references, you should go missed.
Flight - Take 1
With the oral completed, we briefed what we would do in the flight. Light rain, visibility still good, let’s go! In hindsight, I should have taken notes during this briefing and annotated anything unusual on my charts.
We departed Rwy 24 at ABE and I went under the hood. The first step in my clearance was to intercept V29, but I wasn’t given a specific entrypoint. I was confused on how to program it into the GPS (Garmin GNX 375) because of this. I ended up referencing the enroute chart and intercepting the leg from ETX to HIKES. Then, we did a turn in the hold at HIKES using the autopilot — easy.
In the hold, we set up for the VOR-B approach at Pottstown (N47), a circling-only approach. The procedure turn and inbound leg was uneventful and I leveled off about 100 feet above the MDA to circle. I could have been lower, but opted to not risk busting that altitude.
We went missed then did unusual attitude recovery — uneventful. A good acronym for this is PAC: power, attitude, configuration. It was taught to me during my private pilot days for stall recovery and go-arounds, but it applies to any of the relatively gentle unusual attitudes they put us through.
We went over to Allentown Queen City (XLL) for the RNAV Rwy 7, and this is where things got interesting.
Note that the approach does not have vertical guidance.
I knew that we would be doing this approach partial panel and without autopilot, still had the autopilot engaged going direct KATVE when the examiner pulled the PFD circuit breaker. When that happens, it trips the abnormal disconnect warning and a bright red “AP” flashes on the standby instrument. I did not know that acknowledging the disconnect — one button press — would silence the distraction.
The turn to DOSTR went fine and I set up for a typical 500 ft/min descent, but then the GPS announced loss of LP performance with a full-screen message to “USE LNAV MINIMUMS”. I was distracted by that, looked down at the chart to find the LNAV MDA, and set 1100 feet in the altitude bug.
In doing all this I lost a sense of how far we were along-track and that we were still outside YEZJO, so I kept descending.
The examiner gave me a warning — “altitude!” — but I didn’t recognize my mistake until I reached 2100 feet two miles or so outside YEZJO, 200 feet below the crossing restriction, so this approach was a checkride bust.
He asked me if I would like to continue with the last approach. Sure. We went missed straight ahead and got vectors for the ILS Rwy 24 into ABE, which I finished completely by the book.
Learnings, and the next flight
I did a handful of partial-panel nonprecision approaches in my home simulator (Piper Arrow with a Garmin G5 and the similar GTN-series GPS), and also with my instructor in the Piper Pilot 100i.
As you can see, the next flight a week later consisted of just the RNAV Rwy 7 approach at XLL — no altitude busts this time.
My biggest takeaways were to...
Estimate a descent rate for each leg of an approach; prefer a stable CDFA rather than diving and driving. A shallower descent would have been fine since I had to lose only 700 feet over 6.1 miles.
Maintain awareness of your position in relation to the airport with DAD: distance, altitude, direction. Where you are and where you’re gonna be. A glider pilot taught me this one.
Know and practice using the supporting avionics so that they do not become distractions from the primary instruments. I did not download the GNX Trainer until after my failed ride, but the buttonology is different enough from the GTN that I found it confusing at times.
Keep the backup instruments in your typical scan, so that looking at them won’t feel completely foreign if it becomes necessary.