Extremely minor aviation pet peeves...

pilot license
 
I... heard "Interstate 29y turning final" for the same runway (of course that was his first and only call)... I pulled up to the fuel pump to find what looks like a cub. Apparently there was like 300 of these things built and maybe 50 still flying.

Talked to him a bit, pulled his chocks for him after he hand propped it. Nice enough guy, nice plane...

Made in California by Interstate, some were made prewar, most went to the Army as primary trainers, and a few more were made postwar in Anchorage by Arctic Turn.

There were (at least) three civilian flight trainers in the air over Oahu on Sunday December 7, 1941. Sgt. Henry C. Blackwell, and Cpl. Clyde C. Brown, and Sgt. Warren D. Rasmussen, members of a California National Guard, artillery battery training on the island, perished when their two J-3-65s were the first aircraft shot down during the attack. Cornelia Fort was flying the third, an Interstate Cadet. (From Air and Space Magazine -- Jan 2012 -- John Fleischman)

On December 7, 1941, an instructor and her student had taken a Cadet up over Hawaii for a routine lesson. The instructor was Cornelia Fort, 23, the eldest daughter in a wealthy Nashville family. Fort had shaken off her fate as a pillar of high society to become a pilot, and was teaching for a flight school based at Honolulu’s civilian John Rodgers Airport. Fort and her early-bird student, a military worker remembered today only by his last name—Suomala—were practicing touch-and-gos. Less than three miles to the northwest, Pearl Harbor and the U.S. fleet were visible, drowsing in the Sunday morning sunlight. Just before 8 a.m., Fort caught the flash of an airplane coming in from the sea. She was annoyed, then alarmed. The silver airplane, well outside the usual military zone, was heading low and straight for the Cadet.

Fort grabbed the stick from her student, slammed the throttle forward, and climbed desperately. The military intruder passed so close below them that its engine violently rattled the Cadet’s windows. That’s when Fort recognized the rising-sun insignia on its wings. Japanese bombers were pouring in from the northwest, and smoke was rising from Pearl Harbor.

The Japanese bombers were so intent on spotting their targets, most probably never saw the Cadet. One of the passing attackers did take a shot at it, but Fort quickly put the Cadet down at John Rodgers Airport. She and her student jumped out and ran for their lives as a Japanese fighter swooped through on a strafing run that shredded another trainer and killed the instructor.

Fort eventually escaped Hawaii. She was determined to get into the flying war effort on the mainland and show what was possible for women pilots, at a time when neither the military nor the general public took them seriously. She succeeded, but at great cost. In September 1942, she was one of the first 25 female pilots accepted into government service as part of the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Service (WAFS)... (Deleted because it conflates two separate organizations.) Fort didn’t live to see that day. She was killed in March 1943 while delivering a new BT-13 trainer to an Army base in Texas. She was 24, and the first woman pilot to die on war duty in American history.
 
Last edited:
As I understand it, "macadam" is an old term for a rock road built of progressively finer grades of rock. Before the advent of asphalt, heavy oil, or "tar" was applied to stabilize the rock and keep the dust down, hence the term "tarmac". The oil and chip roads we have in rural areas are the best modern example. I believe tarmac was used for expedient airport construction in wwii, and the term stuck, kind of like how "ramp" carries over from flying boat days.

Knowing that, "tarmac" doesn't really bother me any more than "ramp" or any of the other antiquated terms we use. Unless it's concrete. Then I'm mildly annoyed.

On December 7, 1941, an instructor and her student had taken a Cadet up over Hawaii for a routine lesson.
That's funny. I had read they were primarily used as military trainers, but had no idea that's the model that famously spotted the attack on Pearl.
 
Made in California by Interstate, some were made prewar, most went to the Army as primary trainers, and a few more were made postwar in Anchorage by Arctic Turn.

There were (at least) three civilian flight trainers in the air over Oahu on Sunday December 7, 1941. Sgt. Henry C. Blackwell, and Cpl. Clyde C. Brown, and Sgt. Warren D. Rasmussen, members of a California National Guard, artillery battery training on the island, perished when their two J-3-65s were the first aircraft shot down during the attack. Cornelia Fort was flying the third, an Interstate Cadet. (From Air and Space Magazine -- Jan 2012 -- John Fleischman)

On December 7, 1941, an instructor and her student had taken a Cadet up over Hawaii for a routine lesson. The instructor was Cornelia Fort, 23, the eldest daughter in a wealthy Nashville family. Fort had shaken off her fate as a pillar of high society to become a pilot, and was teaching for a flight school based at Honolulu’s civilian John Rodgers Airport. Fort and her early-bird student, a military worker remembered today only by his last name—Suomala—were practicing touch-and-gos. Less than three miles to the northwest, Pearl Harbor and the U.S. fleet were visible, drowsing in the Sunday morning sunlight. Just before 8 a.m., Fort caught the flash of an airplane coming in from the sea. She was annoyed, then alarmed. The silver airplane, well outside the usual military zone, was heading low and straight for the Cadet.

Fort grabbed the stick from her student, slammed the throttle forward, and climbed desperately. The military intruder passed so close below them that its engine violently rattled the Cadet’s windows. That’s when Fort recognized the rising-sun insignia on its wings. Japanese bombers were pouring in from the northwest, and smoke was rising from Pearl Harbor.

The Japanese bombers were so intent on spotting their targets, most probably never saw the Cadet. One of the passing attackers did take a shot at it, but Fort quickly put the Cadet down at John Rodgers Airport. She and her student jumped out and ran for their lives as a Japanese fighter swooped through on a strafing run that shredded another trainer and killed the instructor.

Fort eventually escaped Hawaii. She was determined to get into the flying war effort on the mainland and show what was possible for women pilots, at a time when neither the military nor the general public took them seriously. She succeeded, but at great cost. In September 1942, she was one of the first 25 female pilots accepted into government service as part of the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Service (WAFS)... (Deleted because it conflates two separate organizations.) Fort didn’t live to see that day. She was killed in March 1943 while delivering a new BT-13 trainer to an Army base in Texas. She was 24, and the first woman pilot to die on war duty in American history.

Sad thing about Fort’s death is that she was killed by some idiot dude trying to show off and impress her.
 
As I understand it, "macadam" is an old term for a rock road built of progressively finer grades of rock. Before the advent of asphalt, heavy oil, or "tar" was applied to stabilize the rock and keep the dust down, hence the term "tarmac". The oil and chip roads we have in rural areas are the best modern example. I believe tarmac was used for expedient airport construction in wwii, and the term stuck, kind of like how "ramp" carries over from flying boat days.

Knowing that, "tarmac" doesn't really bother me any more than "ramp" or any of the other antiquated terms we use. Unless it's concrete. Then I'm mildly annoyed.


That's funny. I had read they were primarily used as military trainers, but had no idea that's the model that famously spotted the attack on Pearl.

Bituminous concrete?
 
I thought of another one of mine:

When somebody calls it a "172 Cessna" instead of "Cessna 172". It just sounds wrong and backwards to me.
Or when someone calls any 172 a "Skyhawk".
 
MV5BZGEwNTA5ZTAtY2E0Ni00MjVhLWEwMWUtY2IxYTQ0NTk5OWFlL2ltYWdlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNjE4MjgwMDU@._V1_.jpg


If you know the names of these characters and the name of the show we will see who the old folks really are...
Ouch.
 
Yelling "clear" while the engine is turning over. :eek:
 
Call for price.
That is a five minute major and game disqualification...

So is a supposed seller who responds to my e-mail:

"I'm interested in N12345. It looks nice. Can you tell me it's propeller model number, it's empty CG point, and the empty weight before and after including the items on the equipment list.

Only to get a repeat of what was in their ad (which if the ad had included answers to my questions I wouldn't have e-mailed them, duh) as a response
 
Airplane sellers who think their little cream puff with 60 year old radios, a ragged out engine, flaking paint, and bare metal corrosion is a spectacular example of their type.
All original with matching serial numbers. :)
 
The “yoke” we are referring to is the one joining the two sticks in your “control wheel” together at the control shaft. Prior to yokes, there were single control sticks.

View attachment 100728
Don't argue with me. Argue with the OEM. It's their catalog.
 
On December 7, 1941, an instructor and her student had taken a Cadet up over Hawaii for a routine lesson. The instructor was Cornelia Fort, 23, the eldest daughter in a wealthy Nashville family. Fort had shaken off her fate as a pillar of high society to become a pilot, and was teaching for a flight school based at Honolulu’s civilian John Rodgers Airport. Fort and her early-bird student, a military worker remembered today only by his last name—Suomala—were practicing touch-and-gos. Less than three miles to the northwest, Pearl Harbor and the U.S. fleet were visible, drowsing in the Sunday morning sunlight. Just before 8 a.m., Fort caught the flash of an airplane coming in from the sea. She was annoyed, then alarmed. The silver airplane, well outside the usual military zone, was heading low and straight for the Cadet.

Fort grabbed the stick from her student, slammed the throttle forward, and climbed desperately. The military intruder passed so close below them that its engine violently rattled the Cadet’s windows. That’s when Fort recognized the rising-sun insignia on its wings. Japanese bombers were pouring in from the northwest, and smoke was rising from Pearl Harbor.

This was depicted (sort of) in the movie Tora, Tora, Tora; the part of the Interstate being played by a Stearman biplane.

 
Last edited:
Fair enough. You made me think. I guess my real extremely minor peeve is the unpredictability. Sometimes it is laying on the seat. Sometimes it has fallen on the floor to the front. Sometimes it has fallen on the floor to the back. You have to stick your hand all down in the crevice between the seat and fuselage to fish it out. And then there's the shoulder belt, whose attach point is back behind the back seat. Last time out I had to climb all the way in the back seat to fish it back out. So that's what I think my approach offers ... doesn't make the next guy have to go look for the belt.

Plus, I've been in the partnership longer...
Loose belts in a Cessna tend to get between the seat rollers and the rail, and they get torn up. That gets expensive. We taught the students to clip the lap belts together to prevent that.

We also taught them to never put the headset on the glareshield. They scratch the windshield, and the magnets in the earcup speakers can trash the compass after a while.
 
We also taught them to never put the headset on the glareshield. They scratch the windshield, and the magnets in the earcup speakers can trash the compass after a while.

Besides, any sun at all and they're quickly too hot to don.
 
I thought of another one of mine:

When somebody calls it a "172 Cessna" instead of "Cessna 172". It just sounds wrong and backwards to me.

I see more and more people writing and saying the same with cars and trucks. Things like “Lariat F-150 Ford”. Completely reverse order. It’s supposed to be general to specific.

Another pet peeve is “aircrafts”. Yeah, we get it. British English uses that, but when writers of American English use it, it’s either a pretentious affect or devolving language skills.
 
Actual transmissions, names changed to protect the guilty: “Anytown traffic, Cessna 12345, taking off runway zero-niner-zero, Anytown.” “Anytown traffic, Cessna 345, departure leg, runway zero-niner-zero, Anytown.” “Anytown traffic, Cessna 345, crosswind leg, runway zero-niner-zero, Anytown.” Repeat and repeat through clear the runway, taxiing, et cetera. On a CTAF used by at least four airports, with multiple aircraft in the pattern at each one. And Clem and Sam discussing breakfast plans.
 
Automated fuel pumps. This varies between mild and @&$#$&&$=+!!!!!!!

Mild for the $300 hold on my credit card and an insane rant when it would take a 78 page manual and a 30 minute video to figure out how to get the effing fuel to flow. Both to get 20 Gal of 100LL.

Cheers
 
Negative. Tar is an equally misused term. Asphalt is not tar or vice versa.
The principal application of asphalt is in road surfacing, which may be done in a variety of ways. Light oil “dust layer” treatments may be built up by repetition to form a hard surface, or a granular aggregate may be added to an asphalt coat, or earth materials from the road surface itself may be mixed with the asphalt. (Encyclopedia Britannica: Asphalt)

Macadam, form of pavement invented by John McAdam of Scotland in the 18th century. McAdam’s road cross section was composed of a compacted subgrade of crushed granite or greenstone designed to support the load, covered by a surface of light stone to absorb wear and tear and shed water to the drainage ditches. In modern macadam construction crushed stone or gravel is placed on the compacted base course and bound together with asphalt cement or hot tar. A third layer to fill the interstices is then added and rolled. (Encyclopedia Britannica: Macadam)

:) The Brits sure like to show off their affluence by adding extra vowels, don't they. :)
 
These pet peeve threads seem to be rather popular!
 
PIN number. ATM machine.
I always want to make a t shirt with a stick figure of someone holding a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a bottle of mouth wash in the other with the caption "ATM Machine" just to see what percentage of the population gets it.
 
But if you hadn't brought it up, I wouldn't care at all. Thats less, right?
"I could care less" implies that the writer cares to some degree, so in that sense, you're right, but the statement does not rule out the possibility that they might actually care a lot. I don't think that's what people are trying to convey when they say it.

When I was young, no one ever said "I could care less." It was always "I couldn't care less," which conveys the idea that they care so little that it would not be possible to care less.
 
Back
Top