Passing The Real Check Ride

My first military check ride was in a Beechcraft T-34 Mentor — the Navy’s primary fixed-wing trainer at the time. 

It was a safe-for-solo check. After months of ground school, procedures, and written exams, this was the first real flying gate in military flight training. Pass, and you move forward. Fail, and your path has the potential to get sideways. 

I hadn’t felt that kind of evaluation pressure in years. 

Before joining the Coast Guard and heading to Navy flight school, I had a short career in professional football. I played for several NFL teams over four seasons. In that world, evaluation is constant. Film doesn’t lie. The roster is fluid. Every practice is a tryout. 

What surprised me in flight school was how quickly my mental edge had dulled. 

The First Real Test 

I didn’t sleep much the night before. I reviewed the flight mentally, but my focus drifted toward previous errors instead of past successes. 

The oral went fine. I had done the work. 

The Navy emphasized engine failures in single-engine trainers. Shortly after takeoff, we approached the outlying field with altitude and airspeed; the instructor reduced the power. 

Simulated engine failure. 

I moved through the immediate action steps and reached for flaps.  As I pushed the lever down, I felt resistance. The instructor had guarded it. I checked the airspeed. Too fast. I acknowledged I would’ve over sped the flaps. 

And in that moment, I was convinced I had just failed. 

That sinking feeling is familiar to anyone who has made a mistake during an evaluation they care deeply about. It can unravel the rest of your performance if you let it. 

Next Play 

Then I thought: next play. 

In football, you don’t get to rewind a missed block or a dropped pass. You line up and execute the next snap. 

There was nothing I could do about being fast on flap extension. But I could fly the rest of the event. Moment to moment. Decision to decision. Next play. Then the next. Then the next. 

I passed. Not because I was perfect. Because I recovered. 

What That Check Ride Taught Me 

Over the next 22 years, I completed somewhere between 50 and 75 check rides and as an evaluator I conducted at least 250 checks of other aviators. What changed after that first one was my relationship with “check ride pressure.” 

I no longer viewed check rides as threats. Instead, they became calibration points. They forced preparation. They revealed drift. They prevented fundamentals from eroding, so I stopped thinking they were the end state. 

The Real Check 

Here’s the part younger aviators sometimes miss: 

The evaluation is not the real check. The real check ride is the dark and stormy rescue. It’s the case where weather is deteriorating, the aircraft malfunctions, or the case simply turns out to be more challenging than anticipated. 

Now what? 

There is no grade sheet that night. Check rides should be harnessed as rehearsals for operational pressure. 

Operational missions are the true evaluation. Embracing this fact allows you to value check rides.  

The Standard 

Perfection is not the standard. There has never been a perfect flight. 

In fact, I’ve witnessed some “not great” check ride maneuvers from some excellent aviators.

Minimizing mistakes and recovering quickly from errors — that is the goal. 

Preparation builds confidence. 

Confidence leads to rapid recoveries. 

Rapid recoveries stabilize operational performance. 

That should be the point of the check ride. 

It prepares you to operate well when it matters — in difficult real world circumstances.