Aviation Pilot Blog

There’s a class of aircraft incidents that most of us probably don’t think about much because to avoid them seems so obvious: runway incursions. The FAA defines a runway incursion as “any occurrence at an airport including an aircraft, vehicle, person, or object on the ground that creates a collision hazard or results in a loss of separation with an aircraft taking off, intending to take off, landing, or intending to land.” At a towered airport, for example, who in the world would get onto an active runway without a clearance? How could he do it? And then, why would he do it? I mean, like, we all know the regulations, and besides, the ground controller will watch out for us, even if we do make a mistake, right?

In my egoistic way, I like to think that I, as a supreme aviator, am more skillful, more knowledgeable, more safety-conscious, and certainly more careful than the average weekend warrior out there. (Whether I really am is another story.) This malady, perhaps better known as “complacency,” is common to people who are pilot examiners, write columns in national publications, run flight training establishments, have a lot of experience, and others who have some authority and perhaps a place from which to make their views or opinions known. We can fall into this trap and begin to think that we are somehow immune to mere human frailties. It seems, though, that no sooner do I start thinking about myself in this way, or believing my own press (so to speak), that something happens to take me down a notch or two and return me to the real world.

On a recent trip, I had stopped for fuel at an airport where I had been before, but it had been a few years; it was in the process of changing, and this time there was quite a bit of construction in progress, with the attendant closed runways and taxiways. It was a Class C airspace airport that at the time had two intersecting runways in use. The construction required rather round-a-bout taxi routes, but it was not so complex that a person of my extensive experience and obvious skill should not have been able to handle it.

The landing and taxi in was uneventful, dodging around construction equipment and areas that had been torn up. Upon leaving, however, my brain just seemed to stop working, even though I had studied the airport diagram. The taxi directions included crossing that active runway (with a “hold short” provision) and a rather long, circuitous routing. In the process of trying to relate my taxi route to what the airport diagram showed, I managed to let the my airplane roll past the hold line of that active runway such that a landing aircraft had to go around; I actually managed to get about the first third of my Cessna 180 past the runway edge and onto the runway itself.
So why didn’t I get progressive taxi instructions? Well, there were two reasons. First of all, for someone with my extensive aviation experience and obvious skill, why should I show my ignorance? I mean, like, c’mon now, that’s decidedly uncool. Second, at that time the tower local controller and ground controller was the same person and he was busy with other traffic, both on the ground and in the air. With my extensive skill and experience, remember, I just did not want to interrupt him.
As we all probably know by this time, almost any occurrence has a chain of events leading up to it. When discussing mishaps, this series of events is called an “accident chain,” which if any one link were broken, the mishap would probably not have happened.

A runway incursion, like any other incident, has a number of events that lead up to it, and the incursion itself can be a link in an accident chain. There are four parts to preventing an incursion: (1) clearances, (2) communications, (3) ground navigation, and (4) situational awareness, including scanning. If any one of these parts fails, the probability of an incursion increases; if more than one failure occurs, then they’re inevitable.

Why is each of these components critical? Well, for those of us who fly from busy airports, with a mix of light general aviation, corporate, and airline traffic, and sometimes including military aircraft, just think about what can happen when the system breaks down. The recent unpleasantness in Quincy, Illinois, is a good example (and that is not even a terribly busy airport). Those of use who have been around just a few years will recall the airliner landing on top of a commuter turboprop at Los Angeles International. These are but two catastrophic examples of what can happen when any one part fails. As we all know, we are human and make mistakes; it takes effort on everyone’s part to prevent these, and all other human factors related, accidents.

So let’s look at each of these parts briefly. First, clearances: pilots must understand what they have been instructed to do. If they don’t understand, or can’t comply, then getting a clarification or an amended clearance is in order.

Second, communications: use the proper procedures, standard words and phrases, and read back your clearance, particularly if it is complex or if you are not familiar with the airport. Request progressive taxi instructions if it is appropriate.

Third, ground navigation: understand the airport layout before starting your engine; use that airport map on the back of your instrument approach chart or in your airport directory. Know and understand the meanings of the airport signage, especially now that the signage has been standardized. The Aeronautical Information Manual now has color pictures (imagine that!) showing these new signs, so they are easy to learn and much more intuitive than they were before.

Fourth, situational awareness, including scanning: brief, then use, a passenger to help you monitor your progress across the airport. Monitor your own progress; if you, or your passenger, has a question about what’s happening, resolve it before proceeding. Use all of your resources, including ATC, to help. Scan for other traffic, including aircraft (including helicopters) landing or taking off, and watch for pedestrians or vehicles that might not be where they should be. Avoiding runway incursions is a team effort between controllers, responsible to coordinate traffic, pilots, responsible for aircraft safety, and ground personnel in airport operations or ground services.

Oh, by the way, what happened to me? Did I get a FAR violation? Are pilot examiners immune to prosecution?

Well, this particular examiner is not immune to prosecution. Did I receive, via certified mail, a letter of investigation? Yes. Was I found guilty? I sure was. What did I receive? A letter of warning that will be in my file for two years. Did I file a timely NASA Aviation Safety Reporting System report? You betcha! Will I be even more careful in the future? Well, what do you think? (Do not answer that!)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 27th, 2006 at 12:03 pm and is filed under Flight Training. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

There’s a class of aircraft incidents that most of us probably don’t think about much because to avoid them seems so obvious: runway incursions. The FAA defines a runway incursion as “any occurrence at an airport including an aircraft, vehicle, person, or object on the ground that creates a collision hazard or results in a loss of separation with an aircraft taking off, intending to take off, landing, or intending to land.” At a towered airport, for example, who in the world would get onto an active runway without a clearance? How could he do it? And then, why would he do it? I mean, like, we all know the regulations, and besides, the ground controller will watch out for us, even if we do make a mistake, right?

In my egoistic way, I like to think that I, as a supreme aviator, am more skillful, more knowledgeable, more safety-conscious, and certainly more careful than the average weekend warrior out there. (Whether I really am is another story.) This malady, perhaps better known as “complacency,” is common to people who are pilot examiners, write columns in national publications, run flight training establishments, have a lot of experience, and others who have some authority and perhaps a place from which to make their views or opinions known. We can fall into this trap and begin to think that we are somehow immune to mere human frailties. It seems, though, that no sooner do I start thinking about myself in this way, or believing my own press (so to speak), that something happens to take me down a notch or two and return me to the real world.

On a recent trip, I had stopped for fuel at an airport where I had been before, but it had been a few years; it was in the process of changing, and this time there was quite a bit of construction in progress, with the attendant closed runways and taxiways. It was a Class C airspace airport that at the time had two intersecting runways in use. The construction required rather round-a-bout taxi routes, but it was not so complex that a person of my extensive experience and obvious skill should not have been able to handle it.

The landing and taxi in was uneventful, dodging around construction equipment and areas that had been torn up. Upon leaving, however, my brain just seemed to stop working, even though I had studied the airport diagram. The taxi directions included crossing that active runway (with a “hold short” provision) and a rather long, circuitous routing. In the process of trying to relate my taxi route to what the airport diagram showed, I managed to let the my airplane roll past the hold line of that active runway such that a landing aircraft had to go around; I actually managed to get about the first third of my Cessna 180 past the runway edge and onto the runway itself.
So why didn’t I get progressive taxi instructions? Well, there were two reasons. First of all, for someone with my extensive aviation experience and obvious skill, why should I show my ignorance? I mean, like, c’mon now, that’s decidedly uncool. Second, at that time the tower local controller and ground controller was the same person and he was busy with other traffic, both on the ground and in the air. With my extensive skill and experience, remember, I just did not want to interrupt him.
As we all probably know by this time, almost any occurrence has a chain of events leading up to it. When discussing mishaps, this series of events is called an “accident chain,” which if any one link were broken, the mishap would probably not have happened.

A runway incursion, like any other incident, has a number of events that lead up to it, and the incursion itself can be a link in an accident chain. There are four parts to preventing an incursion: (1) clearances, (2) communications, (3) ground navigation, and (4) situational awareness, including scanning. If any one of these parts fails, the probability of an incursion increases; if more than one failure occurs, then they’re inevitable.

Why is each of these components critical? Well, for those of us who fly from busy airports, with a mix of light general aviation, corporate, and airline traffic, and sometimes including military aircraft, just think about what can happen when the system breaks down. The recent unpleasantness in Quincy, Illinois, is a good example (and that is not even a terribly busy airport). Those of use who have been around just a few years will recall the airliner landing on top of a commuter turboprop at Los Angeles International. These are but two catastrophic examples of what can happen when any one part fails. As we all know, we are human and make mistakes; it takes effort on everyone’s part to prevent these, and all other human factors related, accidents.

So let’s look at each of these parts briefly. First, clearances: pilots must understand what they have been instructed to do. If they don’t understand, or can’t comply, then getting a clarification or an amended clearance is in order.

Second, communications: use the proper procedures, standard words and phrases, and read back your clearance, particularly if it is complex or if you are not familiar with the airport. Request progressive taxi instructions if it is appropriate.

Third, ground navigation: understand the airport layout before starting your engine; use that airport map on the back of your instrument approach chart or in your airport directory. Know and understand the meanings of the airport signage, especially now that the signage has been standardized. The Aeronautical Information Manual now has color pictures (imagine that!) showing these new signs, so they are easy to learn and much more intuitive than they were before.

Fourth, situational awareness, including scanning: brief, then use, a passenger to help you monitor your progress across the airport. Monitor your own progress; if you, or your passenger, has a question about what’s happening, resolve it before proceeding. Use all of your resources, including ATC, to help. Scan for other traffic, including aircraft (including helicopters) landing or taking off, and watch for pedestrians or vehicles that might not be where they should be. Avoiding runway incursions is a team effort between controllers, responsible to coordinate traffic, pilots, responsible for aircraft safety, and ground personnel in airport operations or ground services.

Oh, by the way, what happened to me? Did I get a FAR violation? Are pilot examiners immune to prosecution?

Well, this particular examiner is not immune to prosecution. Did I receive, via certified mail, a letter of investigation? Yes. Was I found guilty? I sure was. What did I receive? A letter of warning that will be in my file for two years. Did I file a timely NASA Aviation Safety Reporting System report? You betcha! Will I be even more careful in the future? Well, what do you think? (Do not answer that!)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 27th, 2006 at 12:03 pm and is filed under Flight Training. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.