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Analogies from mountaineering, skiing, wrangling, and moon shots                                                        
 by David Sweetland
     The sign on the tarmac reads, HAZARDS AHEAD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 
     Extreme sports, such as rock climbing, on monoliths like El Capitan in Yosemite National Park (over a half-mile vertical wall), is what I lived for ... when I was younger. Now I am older, and changing my recreation: flying. As a student of mountaineering accidents (I've also been in a few scrapes), and instructor, I have paid close attention to the safe and sane procedures — risk management — required to practice at a high level of proficiency. 
     Flying is no different, especially when it comes to problem solving or decision making, and accident prevention. Reading through an old FAA Advisory Circular on this topic (Dec. 13, 1991), then seeing a short version in the new Jeppesen Instrument Commercial Manual, I found a most helpful outline worth reviewing. These principles are not academic, I've lived and nearly died by them as I hung my butt off shear stone walls  thousands of feet off the deck. The author(s) of the circular described twelve thinking and behavioral traps or hazards any pilot, especially a mountain pilot, can fall into. 
     Peer pressure is primary, and paramount. The best rock climbers use positive peer pressure as a means to improve, to challenge one another to higher crags and harder tasks. Peer pressure can also be negative, to show off to the audience will, sooner or later, result in a mishap. On the bottom of Donner Lake near the Tahoe basin, California, there is a plane — tomb — containing the bones of a great ski racer and good pilot. In the 1960's, Dick would impress his fans by flying under the Old Donner Summit Bridge, then barrel roll over the lake, one too many times. A stall did him in. The hours I have spent as small plane passenger or in the copilot's seat, I've seen this trait crop up. Here's the crux: the captain puts the airship and crew in danger when the need to perform — show bravado — in situations outside best operational norms is enacted.  
     Mind set is the second pit fall, and is an interesting study. As a rock climber, we are taught to think in both linear and non-linear ways. Climbing is a sequential activity, repeat basic techniques with a high level of concentration over and over on plumb line terrain.  However, there are times one must think outside the box, to change the routine due to injury or weather or time of day, then be able to adapt, adjust, or ad lib as needed.  
     Elite rock climbers have a huge inner encyclopedia of experience and knowledge (as do advanced aviators). They can rearrange their mind set when the mountain god's throw them an ice storm. Pilots who are used to flying in the same paradigm of optimal conditions, within their standard flight parameters, could have problems coping when the unexpected happens. Unlike NASA astronauts who rehearse glitch scenarios, a GA pilot with a  crisis may be in a mental fog trying to come up with appropriate solutions.  
     A pilot's mind set, singular, can become mind sets, plural. To expand mental dimensions, more simulator time seems like a good idea. A few hours of aerobatic and/or glider flying would be excellent schooling. 

     Aviation Safety Training out of Houston, Texas (AST,, offers a course to improve recovery skills in unusual attitudes. Also, as I've seen, advancing from VFR to IFR is valuable insurance.      

     Get-there-itis is number three. For a rock climber, haste makes waste, my mom would say, an increased risk to take a tumble. For the pilot, when the urge to land is postponed by the need to fly more miles, impatience may impair judgment which can create tunnel vision. The pilot fixes their attention on the airport, other option are ignored.  
     In psychology, there is a concept called figure ground.  You may remember this from college Psych 101, the black and white picture of the women wearing a hat with a plume? Those new to this way of thinking train their sight on black or white and miss the outline of the dames, the scene blurs together. Take this exercise into the cockpit. In flight, the ability to visualize the big picture, know where you are in time and space, scan avionics, listen to engine(s), change focus to another particular issue and see it in clear detail (figure ground), let's not forget peripheral vision, all these aspects requiring attention are perceptual awareness. The antidote for get-there-itis?  Critical thinking, patience, and a disciplined but flexible mind set that is not distracted, mesmerized, or frustrated.
     Duck-under syndrome. No one flies below altitude minimums on approach (except crop dusters and bush pilots), right?  
     Scud running.  The author(s) define scud running as going beyond the performance maximums of pilot (skill) and plane (structural strength). The premiere  aerobatic pilots know and respect their limits, and that of the plane. Do we know ours? I'd rather admit defeat and alter flight plans than fall prey to peer pressure, mind set, get-there-itis, duck-under, scud running, or . . . 
     Continuing VFR into IFR conditions. On a late morning flight from Paso Robles, CA, to San Diego, my pilot friend (VFR) and I encountered thick and high shore fog (for those unaware, this Pacific Coast atmospheric condition, from clear sky, resembles a white curtain and carpet). We consulted the Pilots Guide To California Airports, and flew inland to maintain VFR. However, near Montgomery Field the cloud cover moved east and began to sock in. My pal wisely asked the tower for landing assistance. He was cool, calm, and connected to the controller. No need to be macho. Just request help.
     Getting behind the aircraft. Are you afraid of your airplane? Put another way, is your aircraft better than you? I taught skiing for many years. One of the most common student learning problems we instructors saw was poor skiers on performance skis. These  people, non-aggressive and timid, were always behind their boards. The skis wanting to race down the mountain when the skier could barely snowplow turn! Pilot, are you behind your airplane? My wife is good with horses. We once had three mounts to ride, only Lynlee could handle the Arabian stallion. His name: Flash, for good reason. Lyn had tight reins on that steed, she was in command, on top of the situation, and Flash knew it. This gal is an Amelia Earhart in a saddle. A soft touch, firm hands, an assertive but kind voice, this is the type of sagely rudder jockey I want to emulate.       
     Loss of positional or situational awareness. This topic has been alluded to, and could occur in many of the preceding seven errors in judgment. I once ascended the east face of Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, a strenuous all day assault. The route finished on the 14,500-foot summit where my comrade and I were to spend the night. Weather conditions were fantastic, warm air rising off the Owens Valley, hang gliders were circling in a thermal, military jets from China Lake Naval Air Base roared past. But there was a dilemma, all the way up, we saw a party of four below, moving slow.     
     The closer we got to the summit, the sooner we would face sunset and the freezing night air. We were prepared for a bivouac, the quad were not, wearing nothing more than t-shirts, shorts, and boots.  We could tell they had no concept of the time or their precarious situation. They had lost their bearings (situational awareness) due to a combination of factors such as fatigue, underestimating the length and difficulty of the face, exaggerating their own ability, plus, finding out later after we helped them survive, there was a beginner with them. Peer pressure kept them going up. Their group mind set had little recollection of the danger their scud running was leading them into. They were in way over their heads, at the end of their rope and getting further neck tied with every stumbling step. They failed to read the hazard warning, were beyond the no return point.
     Operating without adequate fuel reserves was one of the issues that put these four alpinists in trouble. They ran out of food and water early in the day. Also, they did not plan for contingencies such as spending the night nearly three miles up in the atmosphere. The author of the FAA advisory warns, an airplane low on av gas puts the pilot into a precarious situation that could of been avoided with good flight planning. John Denver is singing the blues over this one.     
     The final three pit falls are redundant but need to be said, in other words: flying outside the envelope (scud running, getting behind the aircraft), descent below the minimum en route altitude (duck under syndrome), and neglect to flight plan (inadequate fuel reserves) or inspect aircraft appropriately.
     Regarding preflight inspections, as a fledgling I accompanied a pilot in a club plane, a Cessna 150. I knew enough about protocols to follow what I had seen by accomplished pilots. While waiting for my partner to retrieve gear from the car, I walked prop to rudder.  I saw a cracked alternator belt, slight but continuous. Pilot's turn. He missed the belt. I mentioned it, and was complimented on my good eyes.  My friend was a little embarrassed as he wrote about this in the squawk book.   
     Concluding the advisory, the author(s) explained five critical pilot attitudes. 
     Antiauthority. This pilot cannot stand to be told what to do, they know better. How such an arrogant person could make it through flight school, then en route talk to and follow directions (or not!) from the tower is beyond me.     
     Invulnerable. The Superman syndrome.  Indestructible?  I've seen climbers who thought they were made of granite, go full throttle right off a cliff and shatter ankles, knees, or worse. Nobody is invincible, pilots included.   
     Macho is the visible manifestation of the antiauthority and invulnerable persona. The leader of the Mt. Whitney climbing combo was a narcissist. Look where it got him! The Right Stuff and Top Gun wunderkindts are real, they can do it, but they're the best to begin  with, earning thousands of flight hours with eagle eyed instructors watching their every move. They practice emergency situations. As non professional aviators, we must realize our limits. Can you imagine a GA pilot who is antiauthority, invincible, a Rambo-type at the controls? The line in the Top Gun movie by the skipper to Maverick is spot on: "Your ego is writing checks your body can't cash." 
     Impulsive. Impatience coupled with poor judgment in a tense situation (where level headed decision making is needed) could be devastating to a climber (bad maneuver, pitch off the rock), or pilot-plane-and-passenger (critical wrong choice, crash and burn). Impulsive is not the same as instinctive.  
     On the Apollo 12 Moon launch (Sept. 1969), Captain's Conrad, Gordon, and Bean's Saturn rocket was hit by lightening just after launch, many of their computers went off line. Ground Control said to flip a certain switch to revive the ship, which veterans Conrad and Gordon knew nothing about. Panic and make an impulsive decision? They were way past the Hazards Ahead sign, rifling out of the atmosphere at fifteen hundred feet per second and 4 g's. Conrad's hand was on the abort handle. Rookie rocketeer Al Bean, instinctively hit the right breaker and all power was restored. An amazing story of steely eyed courage under fire, and more. 
     Astronauts perform exact tasks in extreme situations as if these times are normal. They're conditioned not to react to stress (impulse), rather, quickly, calmly, and rightly respond (trained instinct). What would you do if upon departure your airplane had a similar malfunction -- at night? I hope not the next attitude.       
     Resignation. Some folks in anxious times, are fatalists. They lose all confidence and become victims of their circumstance. Back to my rock climbing tale, the weakest member of the quorum thought about dying. Potentially resigned pilots may have the technical know how to fly, a fine technique, and be current, but when the chips are down, and so appears their bird, their logic is no better than a dead stick.    
     I'm no doom and gloom fatalist. Rather, I'm a realist, confident in myself, my instructors, and those who guide me in to a safe landing. What I've garnered from rock climbing, aviation articles, and flight is the essential need to understand our strengths and weaknesses, and that any of these pitfalls could lurk in the shadows of our nerve center and be antecedents to accident. So how to avoid these traps in thinking and behaving? 
     Pilot, read the signs, inside your head, in your plane, and on the tarmac.
A brief bio for David Sweetland:

Currently Editor for Pilot's Guide (Optima Publications -; past journalist for various local newspapers (San Luis Obispo, CA, Telegram Tribune, Paso Robles Gazette) and national magazines (Rock & Ice).  M.A. degree in psychology, B.A. in geography. Past instructor with Outward Bound, and customer service representative for Sport Rock Intl, maker of the world's finest indoor rock climbing walls. Currently doing aviation ground school while serving Pilot's Guide.

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