Takeoff and Departure

EAA founder Paul Poberezny once wrote that the most dangerous part of any flight is the takeoff and departure. Why? He explained that everything — the airframe, the engine, the prop, and even you, the pilot — must be at 100 percent. And if anything in that combination isn’t fully functioning, you don’t have as much altitude, or in other words time, to fix the problem. I agree with him completely.

In my primary training, I was taught not to hesitate once I’d pulled out on the runway. Once I lined up on centerline, I immediately went flying. The idea was that you didn’t want to be that person who sat on the numbers for an extended time, with final approach totally out of view, hogging up the runway.

Many years later, I had a discussion on this topic with my good friend and mentor, Danny Tyre, EAA 465093. Danny is well known in our parts as the local ultralight and sport pilot guru, but we didn’t really become acquainted until I started sending my first sport pilot applicants to him for the practical test that he could administer as a designated pilot examiner.

Before sending that first applicant, Danny was gracious enough to spend several hours with me, explaining what he was looking for in an applicant. When discussing takeoffs, he shared something I’ve never forgotten.

He had asked how I taught my students to prepare for takeoff, and I thought he meant the typical pre-takeoff checklist that we all do (ignition check, fuel on, flaps, etc.). No, he meant, “How do they mentally prepare for leaving the Earth?”

I was taken aback because I knew exactly what he meant. There’s that moment we all experience, especially when we’re new or about to test fly that new airplane, when we mentally say to ourselves, “Okay, here goes.”

What Danny was suggesting was that we embrace that moment, to focus, and use it to our advantage. His advice: “Take a second to think about what you’re about to commit to.” I replied that I had been taught differently, not to block up the runway for too long, and his reply was that what he was suggesting only takes a few seconds. Now, in hindsight, I can firmly agree.

When done right, this exercise is brief and beneficial. And this ties in perfectly to this discussion of takeoff and departure engine failures. How so? Because it makes you (1) remember that it’s a real possibility, and (2) have a plan in place (I call it “recovery” for reasons that’ll become apparent shortly).

I took his advice to heart and have used it in both my personal flying and in my instruction. To begin with, I would hesitate, take a deep breath to help me focus, make a final check of engine temperatures, and then check that the runway ahead was clear. But I wasn’t really giving much thought to an engine failure “plan of action,” other than to just push the nose down and land straight ahead.

Eventually, I realized that a simple acronym was needed to help me focus on all potential problems, one that’s easy to remember. I’ve used this ever since, and I require my students to use it. I’m not implying it’s a perfect acronym in every case, but it works for us.

P-O-W-E-R

“P” stands for “pump up the power,” or rev up the engine to a predetermined rpm, sort of like what we do for short-field takeoffs, but not to full power. This is particularly important when flying air-cooled two-strokes.

After a long taxi in cool weather, it’s not unusual for the cylinder head temperatures (CHT) to drop a little more than what you need for a full power setting. By advancing the throttle a bit, the temperatures should quickly rise to where you need them, and with two-strokes it also helps the engine run a bit better in a somewhat leaner part of the rpm range.

With the Rotax 503 on a Challenger II, I’ve found 3500-4000 rpm is about right. I’ve learned not to be finicky with a specific rpm setting but to just settle for something within that range. Otherwise, you’ll spend way too long tweaking the throttle.

Remember, this needs to be brief. It’s hoped that you’re up to temperature by the time this checklist is finished.

“O” stands for “obstacles.” Obviously, this can refer to other airplanes, but don’t forget that it’s not uncommon to see cars, trucks, or even pedestrians on or near the runway, especially rural runways. At my home field, it’s not uncommon to see lawn mowers or tractors near the runway.

And I believe that someone has confused our airport for a wildlife sanctuary. Especially in the evenings, we have to be vigilant to watch out for turkeys and herds of deer. Yes, you read that correctly; that is, if a dozen deer constitutes a herd.

By the way, who do I talk to about a perimeter fence?

“W” stands for “wind.” True, you checked the wind direction before you selected the departure runway. But it doesn’t hurt to take a brief moment to see if anything changed on the taxi down. This is especially true in very light aircraft that are more subject to being tossed around. If you can’t see the windsock, look for other visual clues: blowing grass, dust, smoke, etc.

One thing I’ve learned to watch are the treetops. Not the tree, mind you. (If the whole tree is swaying back and forth, I certainly hope your flight comes with tiny soft drinks and peanuts. Otherwise, you’re in the wrong airplane for the mission). No, the treetops in particular.

Many times, you’ll see the tops moving when everything else is dead calm. At least now you know there’s a good chance you’ve got work to do once the wheels leave the ground.

“E” stands for “engine temps.” This is an opportunity to make sure that the engine is sufficiently warm for the application of full power. In my last article, I mentioned the “cold seizure” that I once experienced.

That could have been completely avoided if I’d taken the time to check. It’s also a great opportunity to check the engine health overall. How are the exhaust gas temperatures? Is the engine running smoothly?

For this to be effective, you must have a target temperature in mind. With the 503, it’s a cylinder head temp. With a water-cooled engine it may be a coolant temperature. Other engines may use an oil temperature.

What if you’re still not up to your target temperature by this point? Obviously, you’re not going to take off, but should you continue to sit on the runway? Not likely. It would be safer to move off the runway and continue the warmup. I can only imagine this happening in either the coldest of weather or perhaps the shortest period of time from engine start to takeoff.

As a general suggestion, with a Rotax 503-powered airplane, I’m looking for a minimum of four minutes since engine start and 175 degrees CHT (This is when the temp probe is between the spark plug and cylinder head; other locations, such as under a head bolt, will give different readings. It’s important to know how your engine is set up).

“R” stands for “recovery.” Yes, this is possibly the most important part. Have in mind what you’ll do when the engine fails on takeoff, or how you’ll “recover” from an engine failure. Obviously, if it fails right after liftoff, your only option is to land straight ahead. But think further out. What if it fails at 100 feet AGL? Three hundred feet?

Go ahead and briefly imagine what your options are. If there are fields beyond the departure end of the runway, you’re in good shape. Also scan for fields just left and right of departure. Those may be handy, too. But what if all you see are trees in every direction, or maybe water? Not ideal, but at least you’re as prepared as possible. It’s too late to think about it when the engine goes quiet.

You can’t have this discussion without talking about the “impossible turn.” I’ve always thought that trying to have simple answers for such a complex and variable problem is silly. Saying “never turn back” is impractical. It’s like saying “my house is completely tornado-proof (as long as the tornado approaches only from the west, and it’s an F-1).”

You never know when the engine failure can happen, at what altitude, with what type of wind, at what loading, and in which airplane (if you fly multiple airplanes). The reality is that a turn back may be possible to do safely, if the circumstances allow, and if the pilot is up for it. But because there are so many variables, it’s usually best just to have the mindset of landing straight ahead.

Trust me, when it does fail at a higher altitude, and you realize that you have a little time and options, you’ll look at both options: straight ahead or elsewhere. How successful the outcome is with either choice will depend, again, on several variables. But there is one you can control; have it in mind before you take off.

Briefly?

Okay, okay, you’re probably thinking, “How in the world am I supposed to go through all that quickly?” But it’s just like anything else. It takes practice. With a new student, it can take 20-30 seconds to go through the P-O-W-E-R checklist. With some practice, you can get it down to 5-10 seconds.

I recently read an interesting statement from a longtime, highly experienced pilot about safety. He said that pilots shouldn’t think like doctors, but like carpenters. I think he meant that instead of always focusing on how to fix problems, we should try to avoid the problem to begin with. “Measure twice, cut once” is the idea. Having a plan in place, before takeoff, can do that for you.

Mark Murray, EAA 394554, of Georgetown, Georgia, was always fascinated by airplanes and then discovered ultralights thanks to an article published in National Geographic in 1983. In 2008, he earned his light sport repairman maintenance rating and turned his hobby into a business, eventually becoming a CFI and an A&P mechanic.