Oxygen for Smart Pilots

 

During the majority of my airline flying career, oxygen was a no-brainer.  The O2 mask (which we checked dutifully before every flight, lest we have an explosive decompression which would soon render us unconscious without it) hung behind my head for 15 years in the MD80 I flew and was stowed in a box outboard of my left knee for my last 10 years in the Boeing 757/767. 

Now, enjoying retirement flying in my B55 Baron, I’ve missed the easy availability of a quick shot of “brightener” as I used to call those whiffs, particularly at night, when the instrument panel seemed a bit fuzzy (through the late hour and long durations at a 7000'+ cabin altitudes).  I’d breathe deeply on the oxygen and then, like magic, the panel would come back into focus, my brain would reengage and life seemed so much brighter.

Now, in my elder years, I recall how important those shots of oxygen were and decided if they helped me that much as a younger full-time professional pilot, just think of what that same oxygen would do for an older, occasional leisure pilot who’s got few of those airliner niceties like stretching room, walking areas, lavatories, etc.  Since I try to fly with the precision of my old airline life, why not give myself a helping hand by using oxygen to fortify my skills which are not nearly as sharp as they used to be?

As I thought long and hard about why more pilots don’t use oxygen (when it does such a great job at making you feel better, fly better and eliminates post-flight headaches) it occurred to me that my old mantra of “make it easy for someone to do what you want them to do” was just what I needed to do for myself. Make it easy to don the nasal cannula, get the oxygen flowing and then, last but not least, see the benefits quickly.

With these thoughts in mind, my primary mission during my first Oshkosh Airventure visit this past summer was to talk to the various nose-hose (as we used to call the O2 masks) vendors, seeking to find a 2-4 place oxygen system that would work well for me:  easy to install, easy to use in flight, easy to refill as needed.  I had begun my research several months before and now I was able to see the various systems and talk to the experts.  I ended up with a Precise Flight OXYpack2 - 2 Person Flow Meter Oxygen System With 15 CU. Ft. Cylinder  which interested me for its light weight, ability to be strapped to the back of the passenger seat and ease of donning and use without interfering with ongoing pilot activities like speaking and eating. 

I found that the mustache-style cannula, which allows the oxygen to be conserved and administered through the measured flow meter, was a snap to put on, even in flight with my headset in place.  I merely removed the cannula from the zip pocket on the outside of the oxygen bottle bag, stuffed it under my headset band and then slipped the cannula tubes into my nostrils, allowing the hose to drape over my headset earpieces, down the back of  my head and then over my right shoulder. 

The best part of my purchase was a small oximeter which could tell me instantly when I needed to start using the oxygen and how much it was helping me when I did.  Normal readings are above 95% while below 90% is considered critical (see some good info at http://www.easyoxygen.com.au/oxyge http://www.easyoxygen.com.au/oxygen-saturation-levels-and-what-do-they-mean/n-saturation-levels-and-what-do-they-mean/).

During my recent trip from KJAQ to KSBA at 7500 feet, I was amazed to find my O2 level was down to 90% after only :10-15 at this altitude.  I donned the nasal cannula, turned the bottle all the way on, adjusted the flowmeter to my altitude and settled comfortably to watch the scenery go by.  About :10 later I checked my O2 level and was pleased to see it back at 96%. I had flown similar routes in the daytime for many years and never realized how impaired I actually was while flying at 7,500’ which is technically not an FAA oxygen-mandated altitude.  Imagine what using oxygen will do for my night flights where it's recommended that oxygen be used above 5000 as it improves night vision, which us oldies-but-goodies can certainly do with more of.   My next night flight should be a real eye-opener…pun intended!

So, do yourself and your flying a favor…since none of us are getting any younger, enhance your flying with some easy assistance by using oxygen more often.

Airport Sleuths: Each and Every One of Us

Over my long and checkered airport-using career, I’ve had many occasions to grumble about the poor state of repair at airports I’ve visited from pavement markings to taxiway signs to wandering loose objects (1 steer, 1 saw horse) on the tarmac. Rather than just complain, I’ve made it a habit to be proactive and DO something about it.
The famous comment by JFK at his inaugural speech in 1961 ( “Ask not what your country can do for you but rather ask what you can do for your country”)  set me to thinking about how we, as vitally interested users of our airports could give something back to that real estate we call an airport which supports our passion for flight.  If you think about it, keeping our airports in good conditions is vitally important to all of us.
My oldest memory goes to my night checkout in July of 1969 with my first instructor, Tom Treadwell, at the Gnoss Field (KDVO). Amazingly, my logbook shows no night flights until after I got my private license, but we did an hour’s worth of practice that night, at the Santa Rosa Air Center (O01) an old Navy base airport with no lights, just moonlight.  Chalk up one good memory of having an experienced instructor on board who knew the terrain, making sure my landing light worked and a bright moon-lit night to keep me oriented.  I quickly began to appreciate the value of runway lights and those who maintained them. 
Several months later, I returned to this airport and while talking to the FBO, we heard a local pilot report something like “teeth on the runway” which made no sense. Asking him to “say again,” we got a better explanation:  “Beef on the hoof!” he yelled, and then followed up with “Cattle on the runway!”  Figuring that the mix of cows and airplanes was a recipe for disaster, we sprang into action, called the Airport Manager who I assume located the cow’s owners for a quick round-up. Remembering the night landings I’d made there a few months before, I’d decided to cool my plans for landing there after dark…moon or no moon.
Later, while running my own weekend ground school, I happened to land at Salina, Kansas one night in my N35 Bonanza, trying to beat the approaching thunderstorm.  My partner, a very experienced pilot, had often barked at me for not landing exactly on the centerline. Tonight I was dead on…and thus avoided disaster.   As we rolled out on runway 35, something flashed by me out the pilot’s window which was scary enough to make me taxi back (the runway was 12,300’ long) to take a better look.  To my horror I saw a wooden saw horse now just 20 feet or so left of centerline, used to block off an adjacent closed taxiway, which had been blown out onto the active runway. Had I done my usual “slightly left of centerline” landing…I’d have hit it with my left wing. I quickly reported it to the FSS (where I actually spent that night sleeping in a large armchair, awaiting the passage of that line of thunder bumpers) who issued a NOTAM on the spot.   That memory has served me well for many years, keeping most all of my touchdowns on the centerline, just in case.
As my airline career progressed, I found myself reporting more and more “hazards to aviating,” many of them noticed while sitting in line waiting for take-off.  SFO was particularly prone to quick growing weeds at the approach end of 1R. The signage for the split that n Taxiway Alpha makes into A1 and A2 was sometimes impossible to see due to the grasses fluttering in the breeze, covering the bank of taxi signs.  LAX was another spot where we’d often be asked to hold short of Sierra while taxiing east on Bravo.  One day I noticed there was no “S” marking on B, but only over on the adjacent Charlie taxiway.  On both occasions I gave ground control a heads up when the frequency chatter calmed down enough to explain the problem.
I often fly to KMRY and occasionally land on 28R.  The subsequent taxi often takes me down the centerfield taxiway and on one trip the tower told me to: “Hold short of taxiway Juliet on Bravo” before crossing 28L.  I was westbound and unfortunately the sign for “Juliet” for not visible to an airplane taxiing West as I was, only for those who were eastbound, assumedly heading for the approach ends of 28L or 28R.  Figuring it was important to know just where I was, I taxied just past the intersection, turned the airplane around in a half circle and looked to see if it was indeed Juliet.  Figuring us little guys should have good signage (since we were probably the only ones who ever came Westbound on that piece of concrete), I called the tower and later the Airport Manager to tell them “Juliet” needed another sign on the Westbound side to assist us in seeing just where we were.
You’ve no doubt got many memories of situations you’ve encountered, and hopefully you’ve called and/or written up your share of NASA reports (now renamed ASRS reports at www.asrs.arc.nasa.gov) when you’ve encountered a dangerous situation. The good news is we now have even more resources to help us report problems at our local airports, including www.airnav.com where you can quickly find out who’s responsible for the maintaince of your favorite landing sites. 
Please help the rest of us and be proactive when it comes to reporting situations that need attention. If it’s an issue that needs help from more than what may be available at your local level,  contact Cal Pilots (www.calpilots.org) with as much information as possible ( who, what, where, and when as well as the contact info – yours and theirs) so we can help make sure that the issue gets proper attention. 
Sleuth on, ye California Aviators…we need your eyes, ears, fingers and voice to make sure our airports are there to enjoy for many years to come.