As said in the introduction, any structure must be built up on a solid foundation. Each row of bricks must be firmly tamped in place, settled and evenly aligned, before the next layer is added. Thus it is with learning a skill like flying; the fundamentals are the foundation upon which all else rests. We cannot proceed on to advanced work until weāre familiar with the basics.
In the first hour or two of flight instruction, weāll set the tone for an entire career of flying. In addition to the fundamentals of flight, however, itās necessary to spend time explaining the cryptic confusion of cockpit management, what the instruments are telling us and how they are used. This training can be started on the ground, but a lot of it only makes sense when itās demonstrated in the air. Letās cover the fundamentals first, then round out the introduction with supplemental subject matter.
No, the four fundamentals are not to be described as stall, spin, crash and burn. Gallows humor joking is a time-honored pastime in aviation, but we must avoid such pointless confusion here. Students are often laboring under some apprehension already, thus we must teach them how to manage risk to enhance safety, not dwell on poor outcomes.
In truth, there are only four things you can do with an airplane: climb, glide (descend), turn and fly straight and level. All else is made up of these four fundamental maneuvers, perhaps combined with one another or chained together, but they must be learned so well that they come automatically, as with driving a car while talking to a passenger. You donāt think about turning the steering wheel to round a corner, itās just an automatic response to following the curve of the road. And so it will be in flying, with practice.
The advantage one has when learning to drive, however, is that we saw our parents move the wheel, shift gears, brake and accelerate, from the time we started riding with them. It lost its mystery long before it was our turn to try it. Flying, however, is seldom learned in this way. We come to it entirely unschooled, and students have to adjust to its strange language, uncomfortable feelings, strident sounds, and unfamiliar gauges and controls.
The order of demonstrating things as they occur usually introduces a climb as the first fundamental maneuver. As we climb away after takeoff, the nose-high attitude of the aircraft is pointed out, and the best rate of climb airspeed is shown on the dominant instrument. Then, the student can see that raising the nose, by pulling back on the control wheel (or stick, or yoke, or whatever you call it), produces a response, with a slight delay, of a slower airspeed. Lowering the nose attitude gives the opposite response; airspeed increases after the nose goes down. Only one attitude is correct, the one that results in the best climb performance.
By now, thereās frequently a need to turn the aircraft away from the runway heading to depart the traffic pattern. This generates the next teaching moment, illustrating how the turn is initiated with some aileron input and how the relatively shallow bank angle is stabilized by neutralizing the control. The turn continues as long as the bank is maintained, just as a bicycle leans when rounding a corner. When the desired direction is reached, opposite aileron lifts the lowered wing back to wings-level and the turn stops. Simple, no?
But, how do we know the wings are level? Look out at the wingtips, one after the other. There should be equal distance between wingtip and horizon on each side. No bank, no turn. At this point, I like to illustrate the effect of P-factor in the climb, showing that a slow progression into a left turn occurs when all control pressures are released (assuming a right-rotation tractor propeller). Then, I show that the merest pressure on the right rudder pedal stops this left-turning tendency, which is strongest at low airspeed and essentially disappears in level flight.
As we reach a safe maneuvering altitude, the nose is lowered to stop the climb, demonstrating the change in nose attitude relative to the horizon, and power is reduced to a cruise setting as airspeed builds and emphasis is shifted to the altimeter, which now becomes our primary performance instrument. Ah, but we havenāt retrimmed the aircraft. I release the cleverly-concealed forward pressure Iām holding on the yoke and the nose starts upward, as the airplane attempts to seek its trimmed speed, which was back at best-climb. I then demonstrate that adding some nose-down trim allows us to achieve hands-off flight, as we did in the climb.
This is the proper time to demonstrate the E=MC2 of aviation. This begins with the concept of attitude (the relationship between the aircraftās nose, as seen from the pilotās seat, and the natural horizon line, where the earth meets the sky) and adds the variation of power to achieve performance. To be forever inscribed in the studentās cerebrum, we chant āPower Plus Attitude Equals Performanceā as we write it across the cockpit on a chalkboard of air. Pull the nose up, but with the throttle reduced, and no climb results; itās plain to see, half of the equation is in error. Add full throttle, but with the nose on the horizon, and only noise happensāthere is no climb. Again, one half of the required inputs is wrong. Only when BOTH power and attitude are correct does the desired performance take place, something that must be learned for each maneuver we use in our flying.
To complete the four fundamentals, we then demonstrate the glide maneuver, as an antithesis to the previously-learned climb. What goes up eventually has to come down, and thereās a proper, precise way to descend for a landing, just as thereās a way to maximize climb performance. The power setting is reduced to dead idle, to emphasize that the engine is not totally necessary for flight. We note that the nose is now heavily weighted toward dropping over into a hands-off dive, so we have to oppose this nose-heaviness with back pressure on the yoke until a handful of trim adjustments are made. By now, the airspeed has slowed to the best-glide number and we point out the nose attitude, which is below level-flight position. Obviously, weāre traveling down a hill, but at a stable rate of descent, in full control. There is, then, no immediate danger when the engineās power is taken away, although an eventual landing will result.
The point made, power is reapplied and trim reset to level cruising flight. The student has now flown in all four regimes of flight; climb, turn, straight-and-level, and glide. Thatās all there is to know, we stress; all else is based on those four basic maneuvers. Not only can you do it, itās been proven; youāve already done it. All you need now is practice and development.
Inquiring minds often want to know, before the first flight, āhow much of the flying will I get to do?ā My answer is always āmost of it,ā because weāre not out for a ride, but rather for a flying lesson. There should be no wasted minutes, so from the time the checklist is picked up, the student should be involved in a tactile sense. The first time out, Iāll hold the checklist and read it with the student, but they will move the control or switch in response. Once weāre safely underway and Iāve demonstrated the proper ground steering technique, taxi control is passed to the student and they learn how to follow a yellow line, slow down for turns, apply the brakes and watch out for the protruding wingtips.
Instruction in ground handling continues throughout the pre-solo phase and beyond. Often given short shrift in training, control of the aircraft on the ground should be honed continually. While itās easy to learn how to steer a tricycle gear airplane, sloppy taxiing creeps in unless the instructor insists on correct technique. Even when theyāre inert, one must hold onto the flight controls, in anticipation of encountering a wind gust or prop wash. Taxi on the centerline, not in a parallel universe off to one side, and reduce speed for turns by throttling back in advance to minimize the need for brakes. Brakes, I always maintain, are a substitute for brains; plan ahead so you wonāt need them (except for airplanes built without nosegear steering).
Concepts for ground handling are foreign to nearly all beginning students; the throttle does not snap closed on its own, like a car. Rather, it requires a manual pull to achieve an idle. The primary steering control on the ground is accomplished with oneās feet, with the hand-operated controls relegated to a secondary role. In the air, the situation is reversedāhands are primary, feet are secondary, and during takeoff and landing, there is a shift from one system to the other. A beginning student has to absorb all this, and they need to be assured that itās normal to spin the control yoke frantically from one side to the other until foot-steering becomes second nature, which can take five lessons or more.
The first takeoff or two are a shared responsibility; the student has already learned how to taxi, so following a runway centerline while the airplane accelerates toward liftoff is no mystery. I will take care of raising the nose when airspeed is sufficient, and point out that the airplane lifts off entirely on its own, the result of speed creating lift with the wing at a high angle of attack. By the time weāve accelerated to VY, where the airplane will be in trim, I can turn the controls over to the student and begin the teaching of fundamentals. The next time we take off, Iāll track the centerline for the student, while they raise the nose and fly through the liftoff, and if all goes well the third takeoff is all theirs.
This does not mean, of course, that instructors can retreat from responsibility, most particularly when flying close to the ground. Never, ever, doze with unguarded controls when the runway is near. Even students with several lessons under their belt can react unexpectedly, and it only takes an instant to damage a nosewheel, depart the runway edge or zoom upward into a stall. I maintain, only half facetiously, that students teach themselves to fly. I am only there to protect life, limb and property, and to shorten the process by explanation, demonstration and tedious repetition.
The first few lessons are where we must slip in the tidbits of instruction that have to be learned to foster understanding. Once the process of turning is learned, by entering a bank and rolling out of it, we have to answer the unvoiced question, ābut what about the rudder? I thought it had something to do with turning the airplane.ā And so it does, but only in a secondary role, I say. Its primary purpose is to swing the nose from side to side, something thatās not normally desired. However, a turn begun without rudder input, I demonstrate, is a sloppy, hesitant maneuver, and the aircraft occupants are tossed sideways until the turn stabili...