Pilot Journey Forums

by Glenn Daly

 
As an instructor I’ve learned to love slow flight and delight in the stall. But I can still remember what it was like to feel differently, to be afraid—even though it seems a long, long time ago. And, because stalls usually came at the end of slow flight practice, I learned to fear slow flight, as well.
 
What compounded the fear, for me and many others, was our worries about the spin, that terrifying condition of flight that we knew nothing about because we weren’t allowed to practice them. With all that, it’s no wonder that slow flight, stalls and spins strike terror in our hearts.

 
Students often question why they have to practice stalls—a condition they should be trying to avoid. For most of us, a fear of stalls stems from the fear of falling—it’s a primal horror, one that, when we dream about it, often wakes us screaming or with the shakes. And whenever you perform a full stall, it always involves a fall, often with the nose pitched way down to exaggerate the effect. So, here are some tips to help you understand why we practice slow flight and stalls, and why you shouldn’t fear them—at least when you practice them at altitude. And, as we progress, we’ll make a case for learning how to recover from spins, too.
 
To begin with, why practice slow flight? Well, every flight you’ll ever make will always end in slow flight—else how ever would you land? Sure, you could fly to the airport at cruise airspeed and drive the airplane onto the runway (as I’ve seen many pilots do, especially Cherokee drivers). If the runway is long enough, if you don’t touch down too hard and bound back into the sky, and if your brakes are good and strong…heck, no problem. There are, of course, other possibilities: running out of runway and crashing into whatever lies at the end of it; braking too hard and skidding the tires flat; burning up the brakes and starting a fire; porpoising and causing a prop strike, which could stop the engine and result in HUGE maintenance bills—not to mention the unwanted attention you’d get from FAA enforcement people and the scorn of your fellow pilots.
 
Obviously, driving your airplane onto the ground, too fast, is not the way to go.

 
The reasons you land it slow are simple: you can land in a shorter distance; the airplane will tend to remain on the ground as opposed to bounding back into the sky (although I’ve seen many an airplane bound back into the sky when a student [or his instructor] drops it in from way too high—but that’s another problem); finally, it’s far easier on the airplane: the tires, the landing gear, the brakes. How can you learn to land it slow. Obviously, you learn slow flight at altitude, first, then you progress to doing your slow flight on approach to land.

 
Good, safe slow flight is the measure of a good, safe pilot. Years ago I asked a wizened old pro, Roger Nutter, what would be the measure of a good airplane checkout. He rubbed the grizzled whiskers on his aged face as though pondering an elusive thought, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “Slow flight,” he said, his voice raspy with age and experience. “If a pilot can fly the airplane well, slow, he can probably fly it in any configuration.” Then he nodded off, as he usually does, after exerting himself.

 
The Practical Test Standards for Private and Commercial pilots used to define slow flight as 1.2 Vso. Now, it’s described as flying at an airspeed at which any further increase in angle of attack, increase in load factor or reduction in power would result in an immediate stall. How slow do you have to get in order to perform to the new standards? REAL SLOW.

 
If, for example, you’re learning to fly in a Cessna 172, the stalling speed in landing configuration, Vso, is somewhere around 40 knots indicated airspeed. Multiply that by 1.2 and you get a Vso of 48 knots. Under the new standards, there’s no set airspeed. The new standards mean that if you’re flying slow and you bank the airplane (increase load factor) without adding power, you’ll stall. They mean that if you pitch up without adding power, you’ll stall. They mean that if you reduce power and don’t change your attitude, you’ll stall.

 
Thus, it would appear that your friends at the FAA believe that slow flight is critically important. There really is nothing to fear, and it really is a lot of fun, once you get used to it. For one, it’s a whole lot quieter flying slow—the engine RPM’s are usually lots lower, there is far less noise from the airplane moving through the air—plus you traverse a whole lot less real estate in a turn, than when you’re at cruise. You can turn on a dime and even get change.
 
Part of the problem is that most instructors, especially newer ones, haven’t had enough experience flying slow—so they tend to get a tad nervous in slow flight practice. And, when the instructor is nervous, the student picks it up immediately…and gets twice as nervous. So there you are, two nervous people sitting in very close proximity exuding all kinds of nervous ticks, twitches, shakes and sweats, and, when the airplane comes close to stalling, EGAD, the two of them nearly jump out of their skins.
 
If you’ve found an instructor who breaks out in a sweat when slow flight starts, maybe you should ask if he or she has a more experienced instructor friend, or mentor, who can help you through the slow flight and stall practice. Either that, or tell the instructor that it’s all right, that you understand why you’re practicing slow flight and look forward to the opportunity and that, if anything scary starts to happen, you’ll take care of it. Then, maybe, you could give the instructor a pacifier or a blindfold until the slow flight is over.
 
Why practice stalls? Well, if the airplane gets too slow (actually, if the angle of attack gets too great), the airplane will stall. Where do most stalls occur? Close to the ground, oftentimes turning onto final from base—or on final while you’re trying to stretch a glide by pulling back, causing your instructor to pull his hair, gnash her teeth and lose all control of his or her temper, his or her nerves, or his or her bladder. Thus, you learn to stall the airplane at altitude. Why? So you’ll be able to recognize the indications of a stall, and to learn how to recover from a stall if you should ever inadvertently enter one.
 
Many students, and some instructors, think that the stall happens in an instant, and for no apparent reason. There you are flying along all fat, dumb and happy, when, all of a sudden and out of the blue…WHAM…your nose is pointed down and you’re hurtling out of the sky in the throes of a stall.
 
Contrary to what some of you might believe, it’s not that way. The airplane offers you all kinds of helpful hints, gentle reminders, sweet suggestions and, finally, tugs on the yoke before it allows you to stall. Since you’re probably in slow flight, already, you’ll note that it’s a whole lot quieter inside the cabin. “Ahh,” you say, “I can finally hear myself think.” Then, the flight controls—the ailerons and elevators—start to feel “mushy”.
 
Anyway, after the mushy controls (or sometimes just before), the airplane gives you another, more annoying, hint, the dreaded stall warning indicator, that hideous bleating sound that usually scares the bejesus out of the already nervous student (and, possibly, the already nervous instructor). Finally, as the airflow starts to separate from the wing near the wing root (the part closest to the fuselage) and burbles aft, it buffets the elevator, which transmits the wing’s near-stalled condition to you, the fearless pilot, as the infamous tugs on the yoke. That’s your final hint that a stall is imminent.
 
If you’re like most pilots, when you feel the yoke tugging at your paws (and you’ve been listening the stall warner braying in your ears), you immediately slam the yoke forward, jam on the power and begin to pray to whatever god you worship that, if you survive, you’ll never, ever, not once, covet your neighbor’s wife, again.
 
Again, I believe the real reason for all this terror over the stall starts with the instructor. Instead of explaining what’s actually going on before the session, and what’s about to happen just before the maneuver, many instructors dismiss the stall, or, worse, describe the horrors of what might happen if you stall on final, possibly because they’re scared, too. Before I became an instructor, I was terrified of stalls. Of course, I learned in Grumman Yankees and AA-1A’s and B’s. While the stall/spin characteristics of the Yankee were pretty scary, Grumman fixed the problem with the AA-1A and B. Nevertheless, there was a legion of instructors who were petrified of the Grumman because of some early accidents, and their fear was instantly transmitted to timid, new students—like me.
 
If, as instructors, we could simply explain stalls dispassionately, our students would be so much better off. And, if we could share some of the fun of stalls—describing them as e-ticket roller-coastery rides—we might not have to babysit our students when comes time to practice them. Sure, every student needs to know that stalls are dangerous, often fatal, close to the ground, but so are a lot of other maneuvers. We need to do a better job as instructors, educating our students into the wonder of stalls.
 
Then, we come to spins. I think the FAA did a disservice to flight training when it removed spin training from the private pilot curriculum. If a potentially frightening thing can only be described, it has the potential to strike terror in the heart of a student. I always offer my primary students spin training because, like many, I was terrified of the concept before I ever got to spin. And, even then, I only did it because it was required for my flight instructor certificate. It took me a few more attempts (and a bit of stomach lining) before I became comfortable with spins—and some more training from a couple of aerobatics instructors before I felt confident enough to teach them.
 
Since many of us don’t have access to airplanes that we can spin—at least, airplanes that we can spin without damaging the gyroscopic instruments—here’s a maneuver that I use to demonstrate “spin awareness” to my students. Set your airplane up as though you were making a departure stall. In a typical Cessna 172, set the airspeed around 65 or 70 in a climb configuration. Then, apply full power, but don’t add right rudder. What you’re looking for is the yawing moment that always happens with power on and the nose pitched up. It becomes readily apparent to the student that the airplane’s nose is turning to the left (in American built airplanes, of course), and the left wing is starting to drop. Explain, before the stall break and ensuing spin, that this is what happens just prior to the spin.
 
One or two such demonstrations will provide dramatic evidence why you always need right rudder with the nose pitched up, especially with lots of power. Your students will be more acutely aware of the potential results, and, perhaps, they won’t be quite as frightened at the prospects of disaster.
 
Finally, if you have a chance, or access to a spinnable airplane, you really ought to experience spins. Nearly all of my primary students have opted for a session of spin training, and only one of them has ever said, “Thanks. I don’t ever want to do that again.” After the initial nervous bits, the strapping on of the parachutes, the trip to the practice area, the climb to altitude, the clearing for traffic, nearly every single one has said, “Wow. That was cool. Can we do it again? And Again?” By the end of the session, I’m usually the one who’s looking for the lunch review bag. If you don't have access to a spinnable airplane, or don't want to suffer spins again - and you live near Southern California - give me a call. I’ve got access to a Decathlon that comes complete with parachutes. I’d love to take you for a spin.

Is spin training for everyone? I believe so. Sure, there are students who don’t like roller coasters, who hate steep turns—but most of them love the experience. And the training helps explode the myth that spins will kill you—unless, of course, you do them close to the ground. Should spin training be part of the private and commercial curricula. Of course it should.
 
I hope that some of this makes sense. None of us has to fear slow flight, stalls or spins—we just need to be better prepared for them, recognize the reasons for them, and, then, start enjoying them. If you’re an instructor and you’re afraid of the maneuvers, then you need to practice them until the fear grows into understanding. If you’re a student and your instructor exhibits that fear, ask him if he can recommend someone who isn’t afraid. We’ll all be a lot better off if we remove the terror from slow flight, stalls and spins—and, understanding them will help make us all safer pilots.

I love the spin trainning offered up here in canada, they not only demo a spin, but allow you in parts of your trainning to enter the spin/spiral from whatever config. they like and then recover on your own.. I feel it has not only made me a safer pilot to fly with, but more confident in my skills, because of spins, i dont fear the unknown of 'what ifs' after slow flight and stalls, because i've been there and seen what happens... after a while it actually gets kinda fun, even through the seriousness of the lesson you realize that you are in complete control of an out of control aircraft. I feel spins should be a crucial part in every phase of aviation training, these techniques and skills can be called upon at any time during your carreer.


                Nick

Okay so my school didn't teach Spin Training. Something about the FAA determining too many students died in the 1970's and therefore it won't be taught until the instructor ticket.

That doesn't mean I haven't been in one. My spin experience was a surprise. It was during my first stall training session. My instructor was demonstrating a power off stall. I was a little less than enthused with stalls but knew it had to be done. So I watched carefully and held my breath. We had just gotten out to the practice field and had done our clearing turns. He put the plane in the landing configuration and slowed her down. Then he "aborted" the landing and pulled up. Well, the plane did stall, and then it did something else. She fell over to the left and into a spin where the ground suddenly looked really close. I was freaked not only because the ground was coming up suddenly but because the instructor started swearing.  :eek:

It was a matter of seconds, I'm sure before he regained control of the plane, but those were the longest seconds of my life. Once we were straight and level again, he decided we should return to the airport and maybe do some ground school instead. I didn't have a problem with that. I was a little too "green" to look forward to another hour in the plane.

When we landed and closed the plane, my instructor promptly got out of the plane and vomitted rather noisily into the nearest can. Amazingly, I didn't join him, although my stomach wanted to.

We had the plane checked out and the mechanic found that the rudder cable needed a little adjustment. Apparently full right rudder was not actually full right rudder which led to an unexpected spin.

For me, it took two more weeks before I was willing to try a stall again. As a result, I'm still not "comfortable" doing stalls but I do them because I have to. Someday I hope to be more confident in them, but I prefer to correct the situation as soon as I hear the warning siren instead of waiting for it. That's just me. :rolleyes:

I'm relieved to hear that everything worked out well for you in the end, I'm not sure about you folks down south, but for us in the great white north, stalls can "normally" only be practised at a predetermined safe altitude as specified by a Transport Canada fellow, this is determined by him taking a cessna or what ever his flavor of the month is, up to our trainning areas and seeing what type of terrain we have, he apparently feels that 3000 feet is fully sufficient however the trainning school I attend has added an extra 2000, so we dont practise any lower than 5000 when doing stalls, we are also taught to recover from surprise spins within 1000 feet of altitude loss, which basically leaves us with 4000 feet of 'play room'... sometimes we like to sneak an extra turn in the spin  :cool:   we crazy canucks can't get enough of the spins hehe  The next time you go and practise the stalls, make sure you most importantly are at an altitude where you feel it completely safe, that even if you need to quickly think about the procedures you can recover from any misshaps. But my #1 advise tip for the day, if your not practising stalls, dont stall the plane, sure fire way to avoid spins.

Just a side note, i noticed that he recovered from the spin, afterwards did he explain to you the proceedure from recovering from the spin, and how to recognize if it was indeed a spin or a spiral dive? If anyone does not know the recommeded procedures please find them in either the AOM, or ask a flight intructor, its one of the procedures that will safe you from this type of possible accident!!!!


 thats my little rant for tonight  :p   off to study now

Yes, we have a minimum altitude for practicing stalls. It's 5000 feet here too. And I must say that it's pretty impressive to me to be that high over the island I grew up on. It's just amazing how far you can see.

No, my instructor did not explain the procedure for recovering from a spin, nor how to tell the difference. In fact he was more concerned with making sure that he didn't do something wrong, as if I would know the difference. I was still a fresh newbie in the sky with less than 15 hours and still no concept of how to land the plane.

Never, have I put the plane in a stall while flying. But I've had the siren go off a few times as I float to the runway. This I assume to be normal since I'm landing and just inches above the ground.  Although I also take it to signify a possible "Non-greasy" landing. :(

Would you believe that during my checkride the FAA Admin decided to simulate a spin recovery for me? After I completed my stall demonstrations, he asked if I had ever had spin training, when I said no, he offered to show me one. He explained to me what I should watch out for when practicing stalls to avoid going into a spin or a dive, and how improper stall recovery could lead to a surprise spin. I learned more in the five minutes of stall and spin training with him than I did my entire student pilot life. He did a few stalls and let the plane fall into an incipient spin twice and recovered. He told me that at 73 he had done all the spinning he was ever going to do, but he still liked to teach it. I was so comfortable with his training it really drove home how incompatible my instructor and I were.  :confused: It really wasn't all just in my head. :mad:

Since getting my license, I've attended two Wings Workshops where the local Aerobatic guru gave seminars on unusual attitudes and spin recovery. I was impressed with his seminars and apparently so was everyone else. I noticed that it was standing room only which obviously meant no one was attending the other seminar.

I've also been looking for another instructor to help me with the Instrument rating and beyond. Someone a little more... um... compatible. :D

having a compatible instructor is for sure a definate must for flight trainning, it cost to much to ''waste'' time with someone who isn't making things work for you!

 For me the stall warning horn goes off every now and then on my landings, depending on how fast i come in, Since just after my private my main concern has switch from spot landings, at the lower speeds to the enroute descents, with quicker approaches, roughly 80 or so in my c172 depends on really how i feel that day. of course with the higher speeds i more or less follow the glide path for the runways in use and if not provided shoot for the 500 foot marks, and try to get the flare some place near the threshold. If i come in a little to quick and i need to get the airspeed way down, i'll get the horn, and if i come in on too high of an approach and im trying to have a very quick flat descent i'll get the horn going off, but im really got my final glide path now to the point where i literally just fly it onto the runway and brake as needed. I've only had one complaint from an instructor and that was that I had almost gone over Vfe, which is 85 I believe, its been too long since ive been in a cessna last  :o   been doing a lot of trainning on a piper seminole  :D  thats a wicked cool plane!! :) hehe

Im glad to hear that you had a more confortable experience with the spin environment! the aerobatics intructor at my school loves to demonstrate spins, spirals, loops, and inverted flight, i've been lucky enough i guess to be able to see these attitudes and it takes a lot of the fear from the unknown..

well happy flying and safe travels!!

 Nick

Ya ya ya. So all instructors go on and on about "stall recovery". 

Then I met this gal (CFI).

I said "Give me a normal straight-ahead-power-off-stall just like you want me to do. But then you're not allowed to move. No rudder, NOTHING."

The 1959 Cessna fluttered about for maybe 45 seconds, taking care of itsself, then a little "bad air" started the spin.

On about the 4th circle, she said "Can I recover now ?"

Now THAT's stall-recovery.

We are not supposed to "practice" spins unless it is for a CFI tix.  Instructors should show or "allow" their students to enter a spin.  With the kind of altitude that most of us seem to use, 5000AGL, in the generic trainers that we use, spin recovery can 99% of the time be accomplished by power to idle and just letting go of everything.  As long as the plane is not in an "out of trim" condition, they want to fly!

I cannot speak of the instructor who got sick, but if an instructor is timid about a spin, HE/SHE should not be instructing.  The CFI who looks over at the student while in a spin and says "Do you want me to recover now?" or "During our ground lesson I told you to use more rudder." is the type you want.  With three rotations you will lose about 1,000 AGL.  After that, look out.

The most likely condition for one to inadvertantly stall an airplane is during takeoff or landing.  The spin is probably more likely during landing, while in a turn from base to final.  Say you overshoot final, you crank in close to 60 degrees of bank to recover.  Now, for those of you who know, a 60 degree bank is also a 2G turn (done coordinated, unaccelerated).  Your stall speed has nearly doubled as well.  Its in most POH/AFM, look it up for those who do not believe me.

Brian

Rather than give a long story, let's just say I seem to have a learning disability. Especially when trying to reconcile what I've read vs what I feel when flying.

During my student days, everywhere I read told that 60-degree bank would make 2-g. (It didn't seem that way to me.) Well, that's true only --if you're trying to stay at the same altitude--. I have yet to see this caviat in any book.

Banking -does not- automatically cause g-force, and I wanted to clear that up for any that might be prone to confusion like me.

Students reading agbgng's scenario on trying to adjust a landing should note that he's actually describing the CORRECT thing to do. One SHOULD bank more to make the turn. (But I think most here would say if it takes a 60deg bank, then you should just go around.)

In my opinion, landing accidents are due to being -reluctant- to bank (ask your instructor what might happen, or, there's an excellent description in the FAA "Airplane Flying Handbook" under Cross-Controlled-Stalls). I wish this was a required demo for all students.

Actually, no.  I am sorry, and you were correct, I was not clear.  I was trying to give people (mainly new student pilots) the knowledge of what overbanking can do to the stall characteristics of the airplane.  The scenario is more of a judgment call based on circumstances at that moment ONLY.  The 100% correct answer would be to initiate a Go-Around. 


Yes, cross-controlled and trim stalls should be demonstrated.  They, again, are required training only for CFI's.  It has been my experience, though, with the DPE's and FAA examiners in the Nashville, Bowling Green, KY and Louisville, KY area that they will not have CFI candidates demonstrate stalls to private pilot standards, but to commercial standards.  Commercial standards is the first indication of a stall or arguably the stall horn/light, not a "break" or full stall.

A stall demonstration should not end up in a spin.  The spin is caused by an uncoordinated form of flight.  But on your checkrides, if you do get into a spin, get out of it ASAP and the examiner may just have you demo again, or say, "At least you can get out of a spin" and pass you (in that phase).  But again, totally subjective.

Brian