We walked through the recent changes and after a while they went on their way with the proper procedures and information.

Much has been written and spoken over the years on the topic of "flying like the pros". Magazine columns, safety seminars, and weekend clinics take on the topic regularly. What does it mean though? Having flown both professionally and for pleasure for the greater portion of my life, I've seen flying on both sides of the fence.

What defines a professional pilot? Epaulettes? Stripes? A navy-blue or black tie? Shined shoes? A paycheck in return for services rendered as an aviator? In the course of flying with, evaluating, instructing and observing hundreds, if not thousands of pilots, I have seen highly compensated airline pilots act in a most unprofessional and dangerous manner. I have also seen fledgling, newly minted private pilots conduct their operations with the highest level of safety imaginable. Rather than quibble about what defines a professional pilot, perhaps more value could be gained in looking at what defines a competent and safe pilot.

I find it extremely unprofessional that these two highly trained helicopter pilots were stumbling around some of the nation's busiest (and most regulated) airspace without a clue about a rather major change to local airspace that had occurred more than four weeks earlier. There is simply no excuse for it. Whether it was a momentary lapse in judgment or if these particular pilots really care how things work in the civilian world, I'm not certain.

Being professional in our flight operations isn't difficult. It does require discipline, ethics and diligence. If pilots followed these six points, GA accidents would be drastically reduced:

• Get a weather briefing.
• Fulfill the requirements of FAR 91.103 and become familiar with ALL available information concerning the flight.
• Be certain that the aircraft has been maintained in accordance with the regulations.
• Conduct a proper preflight inspection.
• Comply with recent experience requirements.
• Don't attempt any maneuver if not 100% sure of the outcome.

How hard are these to comply with? Most pilots give lip service to aviation safety but I can tell you from looking at the five claims that Avemco received today, one of these tenets was ignored in every single one of them.

Help us keep the cost of flying down, improve public perception of GA, ensure a robust future for GA and most of all, operate at the safest possible level.

The pilot is a many sided person.

We have a public side. This is the pilot that people see. It is the side that we see ourselves. I know you're comfortable landing in a 15 knot direct crosswind. You know you're comfortable under the same circumstances as well.

We have a private side. This is the side people don't see, but that we know is there. For example, we may have hidden fears. But we gloss over them and put on an air of confidence. This can also manifest itself in the form of unnatural phobias. I knew a pilot who quit aviation altogether because she developed a fear of stalling on climbout. This is a pilot who had expended time, effort and money to obtain many licenses and ratings.

We have a clueless side, the side other people see but that we cannot see about ourselves. This is probably the most dangerous of our sides. It takes an open mind to accept constructive criticism and make behavioral changes for the better. How many of you know an aviator about whom peers say "It's only a matter of time before __________ happens?" Does anyone say that about you?

We can have a hidden side. This is the side that neither we, nor anyone else, knows exists. For example, how a pilot might react under extreme duress is something that may not manifest itself for years. Or it may never manifest itself at all!

Being a pilot is about being the best: The most physically able. The most precise. The most driven. But it's also about ethics. And that's where the prerequisites for being a good pilot cross over from skill to morals.

Doing the right thing when nobody is watching. We don't typically think of piloting an airplane as an endeavor that requires ethical thought. But the decisions that flying demands require an extremely logical thought process accompanied by rigid adherence to procedure. Consider the circling approach. Break it down into its individual components: You approach an airport in a descent. You level off at Minimum Descent Altitude (MDA). Prior to the Missed Approach Point (MAP) you see the runway. You break off the approach and visually maneuver the airplane for landing on a runway other than one in front of you. All the while, you are maintaining MDA. With a tolerance of "plus fifty, minus zero". Regulations require you to stay at MDA until "a descent to a landing on the intended runway can be made at a normal rate of descent using normal maneuvers."

Allow me to set up a scenario: You've maneuvered yourself onto a left downwind leg. At MDA, you're just skimming the bottom of a ragged overcast. As you approach midfield, you see wisps of the overcast hanging below your path of flight. You duck down a bit, maybe fifty feet to stay visual. Or do you? You're busting MDA if you do! But what's fifty feet going to hurt? You're over 1,000' above the ground. But it's tempting. You've flown for the past few hours, you're getting tight on fuel, you can SEE the airport! Just fifty feet? What difference is that going to make?

The Hot Stove syndrome Maybe you've busted minimums before. And gotten away with it! Maybe you've taken off over gross weight! Or cut it short on carrying enough fuel and flown without legal reserves. Aviation is funny like that. The problem with cheating is that you usually don't get caught. Have a couple of beers, get in the car, drive home, no problem. "Forget" to report a few thousand dollars of cash income to the IRS, no problem. Take off a few pounds overweight, no problem. Land with visibility below minimums, no problem.

You can spit in the tiger's face sometimes, and he doesn't swat back at you. Or even let on that he notices. If you have kids, you may remember the toddler stage. The world is up for being explored. And explore they will. Animals and children have a natural aversion to fire. They usually get burned only once. After that, a healthy fear develops. Fear of pain is perhaps the greatest motivator of animals and humans.

Being a highly experienced aviator is a double-edged sword. The old saw "An experienced aviator uses his vast expertise to keep him out of situations that require his vast expertise!" is very true. We need experience to get experience. And in the process of gaining experience, we sometimes come pretty close to the hot stove!

I remember!

Now in my fifties, I really have no reason to be on a motorcycle so, in spite of being generally interested in all things motorized, motorcycles and I leave each other alone.

My concerns might seem like an odd reaction from a guy who goes out and performs aerobatics in a two-seat fabric and tube airplane several days each week but that's just the way it is.

Actually, if I'm real honest with you, I'd have to say that I do have a tiny bit of interest in riding motorcycles. One of my favorite books is Robert Pirsig's "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". I'm pretty sure that, if properly indoctrinated, I could overcome my fear and become a biker. (I could probably grow a ponytail too, I'm not sure though!) But if I did get into biking, I have a long list of things I'd do to make it as safe as possible. I would get competent instruction, I wouldn't ride at night, I wouldn't ride in the rain, I would always wear full protective gear, and I wouldn't drink and ride. You get the idea. You veteran bikers could probably fill me in on everything else I needed to do to stay alive. I'll consult you prior to jumping in though, I promise. (Note to Mrs. Greenway, I'll make sure the life insurance is paid up and I'll let you know before I do it!)

I try to keep an open mind about motorcycles because I realize there are many people who feel the same about general aviation as I do about motorcycles. Since I know a heck of a lot more about small planes than I do about motorcycles, I feel qualified to weigh in here. There is plenty that we can do to minimize risk in our general aviation flight operations. Probably most of us employ many of these practices every time we fly. If it's too windy, we might postpone, delay or cancel a flight, if the ceiling or visibility is too low, we might make alternate plans, if there is a forecast for icing and we're flying a plane that isn't equipped for flight in icing conditions, we scrub the flight.

I have a friend who as a low time, private pilot bought a rather high performance twin-engine turboprop for use in his business travel. Following the completion of his insurance company's requirement of 50 hours dual instruction with a CFI I was pleased to see that he was very careful about risk taking in his flight operations. Although instrument rated, he made his weather minimums "one thousand and three" for IFR flight and he didn't do approaches at night after a long day spent working. He was self-disciplined enough to recognize what could get him in trouble.

The term "risk management" gets thrown around aviation safety circles a lot. Maybe too much since, with as much discussion as the topic gets, GA doesn't seem to be getting any safer.

You'd probably be surprised at where the majority of our claim dollars go. And in far too many cases, the probable cause could likely have been preventable. You'd be amazed at how many claim dollars are spent on "hangar rash," improper ground handling, carelessness during startup/taxi and generally sloppy airmanship. Many of these incidents aren't reportable, either to the FAA or the NTSB so we're the only ones who hear about them. All of these types of claims indicate a higher probability that something "big" is going to happen and every claim contributes to the ever-increasing cost of flying.

Our flying can be as safe as we make it. If you think that limiting yourself to day/VFR within a twenty-five mile radius of home base, I applaud that! Over 90% of my personal flying these days fits that description. The NTSB accident database is full of accidents in which pilots got in over their heads one way or another.

Stop for a minute and make an honest assessment of your flying. It is as safe as you choose to make it. Do you need to make any changes?

Meanwhile, I might take my hangar neighbor up on his offer to go for a ride on the back of his motorcycle! (With a helmet, during daylight hours...)

One of my first staff meetings was with Mike Kerwin, Avemco's Vice President of Analytics. I tried not to act surprised at the PowerPoint slide with more numbers on it than I'd EVER seen on a PowerPoint slide. To alleviate my unease Mike said "Don't fall in love with any one number." At first I thought he was kidding, but as he patiently led me into the corporate jungle of important data and reports Avemco analyzes, I gained a better understanding of the process and how it impacts the business and our products.

Ok, I got all that!

After my first few weeks on the job, with my head full of what I was trying to absorb, I did what any self-respecting pilot would do, I took to the air to relieve the stress. I still keep my CFI certificate active and provide flight instruction to a small circle of longtime friends here at the Frederick (Maryland) Municipal Airport. I was giving instruction to a fellow "old guy" who was learning "glass" for the first time. Although he is a highly experienced aviator, this was his first flight without the familiar "steam gauges" that he had come to know and love in decades of flying. I could see him struggle as he tried to assimilate all the information. The best advice I could give him was the advice given to me by Mike Kerwin. "Don't fall in love with any one number!" The glass screens presented vastly more information than he was used to seeing in the cockpit and, like anyone new to advanced technology, he tended to focus on one or two pieces of information. One of the fantastic things about new avionics technology is that critical information is often presented in multiple formats so you can customize your view. As we worked on landings, I could see that he had difficulty incorporating the "tape" representation of airspeed into his scan. Same with the VSI and altitude displays. We spent a few hours at cruise altitude on a cross country flight just so he could familiarize himself with where to look for what he needed. More than any other phase of flight training, transitioning to glass cockpits is the time when the phrase "get the big picture" matters most. I fly with some teenage students who can far outmaneuver me when it comes to new cockpit technology. But that's not what it's all about. It's still an airplane and it still demands to be flown with good airmanship, regardless of what type of technology is installed in the panel.

My transitioning student assimilated the change pretty well (for an old guy!) and is happily and safely plying the skies with the latest and greatest in avionics technology. But every time I see him, he reminds me that he's "keeping the big picture in mind."

Flying is about numbers: proper Vspeeds, rate of climb, minimum safe altitude, maximum useful load, and so forth, all of which are important. Maybe you don't like numbers but they demand our attention as pilots. In nearly every pilot related airplane accident I see, somebody, somewhere failed to pay attention to the numbers. True, that's our business, but we'd love to see a reduction in these types of losses! We've grown close to our customers and consider them to be part of our extended aviation family. And we'd like them be around to do business with us in the future!

The AOPA Air Safety Institute recently completed their third pass at the safety record of glass panel GA airplanes¹. The first review, released in 2005 was as in-depth as could be, considering there had been so few accidents involving glass panel GA aircraft at the time. Nearly six years later, we've managed to crash a fair number of these newer airplanes, enough anyway to see the trends.

GA airplanes have simply gotten too complicated for no good reason. Slick marketing sold us the bill of goods on much of the new technology, saying that it would make flying easier and safer. Not to sound like an old guy or anything but give me back the days of a VFR equipped single nav-com trainer with a transponder. (Or without one!) In the competitive rush to outdo the competition, avionics manufacturers have incorporated feature after feature into new products that have had negligible effects on the general aviation safety record.

The automobile industry has gone through a similar course with regard to technology. The inclusion of gadgets in new automobiles has reached the point where they impact safety negatively. So much so that the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) in March held hearings on manufacturer standardization in an effort to reduce distraction to drivers who insist on surfing the web or downloading mp3 music files while traveling at 80 mph on the turnpike². Federal statistics show that 5,474 people were killed in automobiles and about 448,000 were injured in 2009 in crashes in which distracted driving played a role. Drivers who use handheld devices are four times as likely to get into a serious crash, research has shown³.

It's tougher to define the trends working with general aviation statistics since, there are far less data to analyze. But it stands to reason if drivers are distracted by new technology, pilots are subject to the same thing.

Don't get me wrong, the new technology is nice but it raised an eyebrow even on this old rock and roller when I found that I could page through the Garmin G-1000 and tune in Bob Dylan on the XM receiver in-flight. Nice feature, but I'm not certain that it belongs in the cockpit.

From an insurance industry perspective, the increased hull value of even the most primary trainers hurts us all. Increased hull values mean higher premiums for the customer and higher payouts from the insurers following a loss. Let's be honest with ourselves, it doesn't take a $300,000 fully IFR equipped glass cockpit airplane to get a primary student through private pilot certification. But that's what many flight schools are using.

The advent of the light sport aircraft was a bright spot on the horizon when it surfaced in the early 2000s. These low-cost, easy-to-fly machines were going to save the industry, or so we were told. Sadly, with prices of these now rising well in to the mid hundred thousands and panels that resemble airliners, the industry still struggles along, barely able to attain liftoff speed.

Are we at the mercy of misguided marketing departments? Or can GA fly out of the slump and get back up to a safe altitude?

Even a simple airplane is a fairly complex piece of machinery. You don't have to have your annual inspection scheduled for late winter (although that may be the perfect time). You should, however, give your aircraft a very good look-see before returning to regular service.

You're looking for a number of things in this pre-season start-up. It may go without saying (but maybe not) that the first thing you should do is give your airplane a detailed, close visual inspection. A great way to do this, and have some fun in the process, is to wash your airplane. Spend a few hours washing, drying, and waxing your airplane, using this time to closely inspect it for any damage, corrosion or signs of intrusion. Do this when you're not planning to fly, so you're not tempted to dismiss something unusual in your desire to get into the air.

As you clean your airplane, be consciously looking for:

Damage. Obviously, anything you find that is damaged should be addressed by a mechanic before you fly. Do your pre-season check early and schedule repairs before the weather invites you to fly.

Corrosion. Corrosion is a form of damage that can seriously diminish the airplane's load-carrying capability. Anything rusted needs to be cleaned and painted. Any control cables or springs showing rust–any rust at all–probably need to be replaced. Have your mechanic address any corrosion you find before you fly.

Intrusion. I'm not talking about forced entry or theft (although if you find anything like this, you need to look into it also). No, I'm talking about invasions from the animal world. Any twigs or dried leaves around fuselage openings suggest birds. Torn or shredded insulation or bits of shop cloths or other fabrics may indicate mice have nested in your airplane. Mud around openings or drains may indicate insects have built homes in your airplane. Animal droppings of almost all sorts are highly corrosive to airplanes, and nests, globs of mud, and the remains of dead animals can block control cables, jam control surfaces or alter cooling air flow around engines or through cabin ventilation systems. Even the slightest sign of nature intruding upon your airplane means you should pen up cowlings and access panels and take a good look around with a flashlight before you consider flying.

As the air warms and the weather improves, we all want to fly more–even if we did fly through the winter. The beginning of spring is a great time to give your airplane a good once-over to ensure it's ready when you are.