FLIGHT PSYCHOLOGY: A ROCK CLIMBER LEARNS TO FLY
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,
www.aviationsafetytraining.com), 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 -
www.pilotsguide.com);
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.