AIRCRAFT
A little-known secret outside the world of business jet pilots is that we are more than the occupants of the front two seats, pushing throttles, magically seeing through clouds, and circumnavigating the world. Sure, there is that. But we are also the flight planners, baggage loaders and flight pursers. In some cases, we are the flight attendants and flight-line service technicians. If we aren’t the mechanics, we are the mechanic’s diagnostician or assistant. It is with due respect to all these “hats” that I measure the effectiveness of a new business jet: How does the design make the pilot’s life easier? Under these metrics, the Cessna Citation Longitude is a winning design.
My introduction to Cessna jets was more than 40 years ago, flying the Cessna T-37 “Tweet” as a U.S. Air Force student pilot. We lieutenants were told that Cessna took the lessons learned from the primary jet trainer and turned those into the first Cessna business jet, the Citation I.
So when Textron Aviation offered me the chance to fly a new Longitude, I jumped at the chance. With 31 Longitudes already delivered as of early 2021, the aircraft may be setting a new standard in the super-midsize business jet class.
The Exterior Preflight
The Citation Longitude has an elegant ramp presence, with its 68 ft., 11 in. wingspan and 73 ft., 2 in. length, a graceful 28.6- to 31.8-deg. wing sweep and T-tail perched 19 ft., 5 in. in the air. Crews can comfortably plan on starting flight preparations with as little as 30 min. before departure without feeling rushed. As this was an introductory flight for me, Textron Aviation demonstration pilots Capts. Alan Pitcher and David Bodlak allowed for an hour.
Not too long ago, a typical exterior preflight inspection took about an hour and often left the pilot or flight engineer dirty with grease and oil. Even today, many preflights require pilots to open panels, examine engine accessories and get into wheel wells with a flashlight. There is a certain satisfaction from all that, but it gets old quickly. I got the sense we could have it done in 5 min. if not for all my questions.
The main entrance door is electrically closed by a DC-motor and allowed to free-fall on its own while unspooling the motor. The door includes a sight glass to ensure the ramp is clear prior to opening and a sensor to prevent the door from closing if anyone is still standing on it. (I will be adding this to my wish list on my future aircraft!) The door is surrounded by a “blade type” seal that simply uses cabin pressure to seal the door to the aircraft’s maximum pressure of 9.66 lb. per sq. in. differential (PSID). That is a recurring theme with the Longitude: If there is a simple solution to something that is traditionally handled in a more complex way, go with simplicity. The door doesn’t require an inflatable seal and all the pneumatic plumbing between it and bleed-air sources required to power it. Despite all that, the pressurization system is capable of delivering a remarkable sub-6,000-ft. cabin altitude at the aircraft’s 45,000-ft. maximum altitude.
Just about all of the inspection panels are accessible without a ladder or the need to crawl underneath the aircraft. But only one really needs to be opened on a routine preflight inspection: the refueling control panel, located in the fairing just forward of the starboard wing. The aircraft is capable of carrying 14,300 lb. of fuel in two integral wing fuel tanks. If fueled using the over-wing filler caps, total fuel increases to 14,500 lb. The control panel doesn’t require a long boot process and took less than 5 sec. to report the fuel onboard. The pilot need only turn on the fuel panel switch and select the total amount desired. The system will ensure the fuel between each wing tank remains within 500 lb. balance until the desired fuel is loaded.
For our flight, we loaded 9,200 lb. for a short local flight with three of us onboard, expecting a takeoff weight of 32,965 lb. Our takeoff from Dwight D. Eisenhower National Airport (KICT), Wichita was at 12C, on a dry runway. The aircraft’s published performance at a maximum takeoff weight of 39,500 lb. from a sea level, ISA airport allows for a takeoff field length of 4,810 ft., a 3,500-nm range flying at Mach 0.80, with four passengers and NBAA IFR reserves. For today’s flight, we would need just 3,583 ft. of runway.
The wings appear clean from the front and top, with no leading edge devices needed to achieve its short runway performance. The polished leading edge uses hot pneumatic bleed air to provide evaporative anti-icing. This system is also used for the ring cowls of the engines. Two full-time ice detectors, a first in the Citation series, are used to advise pilots of the need to activate anti-ice systems. The wing, from root to the gentle upsweep of the winglet, struck me as beautiful. Beautiful, that is, until I got to the aileron.
The right aileron outboard and three spoilers inboard. Photo credit: James Albright
I asked Pitcher to tell me about roll control. He explained that the aileron system was strictly cables and pulleys between a conventional yoke and the aileron surfaces. That is augmented by fly-by-wire spoilers above the wing that are electrically controlled and hydraulically operated. The two outboard and midboard spoilers act as roll spoilers and speed brakes. A set of inboard spoilers teams up with the other four as ground spoilers for landing or aborted takeoffs. The setup appeared similar to that of many of the aircraft in my logbook, but I wondered about any drag or aileron buzz caused by the abrupt shape of the wing-to-aileron union. I made a mental note to fly the aircraft at its highest speed to find out.
The two Honeywell HTF7700L turbofan engines are installed on pylons just aft of the wings. They incorporate dual-channel, full-authority digital electronic controls (FADEC), producing 7,665 lb. of thrust on an ISA day at sea level, flat rated through ISA+14C. The engines are just above eye level for me; I would need a ladder to install intake covers.
Walking aft I noticed the polished leading edges of the horizontal stabilizer as Pitcher talked about the EMEDs. “E-whats?” I asked. The electromagnetic expulsion deicing (EMED) system uses DC electrical power to pulse magnets mounted inside the leading edges to create skin movement to free ice from the leading edge of the horizontal stabilizer.
Next up was a view of the auxiliary power unit (APU) exhaust mounted at the aftmost point of the fuselage. Moving the APU exhaust as far aft as possible is credited with lowering cabin noise significantly, as is moving the cabin pressurization outflow valve to the aft bulkhead in the baggage compartment. The Longitude’s cabin noise level is less than 68 decibels, as compared to between 69 and 72 for its nearest competitors.
Of course, most of us business jet pilots spend a great deal of time handling baggage and the Longitude’s external and internal baggage compartment access are designed with this in mind. The external compartment door can be opened and closed without a ladder and the baggage compartment floor is just over 4 ft. off the ground. The internal door also gives access from the cabin to the entire baggage compartment, which has a flat floor.
The port-side fuselage behind the wing is home to potable water and lavatory water service. The lavatory is a vacuum type with gray water contained outside the pressure vessel in a 6.5-gal. heated tank. A 14-gal. potable water tank can be serviced internally or externally. It also can be purged while in flight by a selection from cockpit screens, reducing a pilot’s postflight cold weather chores to having the gray water dumped and removing any freezables from the cabin.
Finishing the external preflight, I again thought the overall theme had been simplicity: How can we make these necessary chores as painless as possible for the pilot? It was a theme that was to continue in the cockpit.
The Internal Preflight
For a pilot coming from larger aircraft, the Longitude’s cockpit can seem a bit small. The fuselage, at its widest point, is 77 in. wide and 72 in. tall. Pilots without previous Citation experience, like me, will be impressed by the large windshields and windows, providing excellent visibility. I lowered myself in the left seat and felt immediately at home with the five-point restraining harness and comfortable leather seats.
With the press of two battery switches, the cockpit came to life and the boot process was no more than a few minutes. The flight management system (FMS) comes up automatically, and with it, the navigation lights turn on. It appears the G5000 Garmin Integrated Flight Deck (GIFD) includes the maximum amount of glass that could fit in front of both pilots. Three 14-in.-diagonal, high-resolution LCDs in widescreen, landscape orientation are home to two outer primary flight displays (PFDs) and a single, centrally located multi-function display (MFD). Each display can be split with a push of a button.
Four full-color touchscreen LCD control panels, called Garmin Touchscreen Control (GTC) panels, are used to manipulate G5000 system features such as radio tuning, transponders, intercom, flight planning, selected aircraft systems such as environmental control and internal lighting, and MFD windows to display desired information. If a control panel becomes inoperative, the remaining control panels can take on additional control responsibilities.
While I’ve spent most of my flying career using cockpit avionics from Honeywell and Collins, I felt immediately at home with the Garmin setup. The GTCs are much easier to use than a conventional mechanical button control panel, and even easier than the touchscreen controls that I normally use. The Garmin version puts far less information on any given screen, meaning the numbers and letters displayed can be larger. Because your fingers have larger targets to hit, the chance of punching a wrong number or letter are decreased as a result. You rarely have to dive in more than a few levels to find what you want.
Unlike many AC driven aircraft, the almost entirely DC Longitude is “full up” on batteries only, except for the windshield heats. Once the avionics boot up, you have a cockpit ready to go. The only thing remaining before starting the engines is to connect external air or fire up the APU. The batteries are good for at least 10 min. prior to APU start, so pilots do not need to hurry through any procedures before getting to the APU.
The Honeywell 36-150 APU is certified to start up to 31,000 ft. and operate to 35,000 ft. It provides electrical power as well as bleed air for environmental controls and engine starting while on the ground and at lower altitudes in the air. Unlike any APU I’ve ever operated, this one is certified for unattended operation. Pilots can start the APU with full confidence that it will not only shut down on its own if needed, but it will also discharge a fire extinguisher. I immediately added this to the wish list for my aircraft.
Starting the APU could not be easier. You simply rotate the APU control switch from OFF to ON, wait about 15 sec. for a self-test to complete, and then rotate the switch to START. Pilots are relieved of the normal prestart routine (turning on navigation lights, selecting fuel pumps, running a fire detection test), and the entire process takes less than a minute.
The Longitude can be equipped with inertial reference units that automatically update off of the installed dual GPS receivers, or two Litef LCR-100 gyrocompassing attitude heading reference system (AHRS) computers. The units come to life automatically during power up, and flight plans and weather information can be downlinked by ground or satellite links. The system automatically favors VHF terrestrial sources, if available.
Preflight checks were straightforward and easily accomplished, and we were ready for engine start in just a few minutes. A trained crew can routinely go from a dark cockpit to engine start in less than 10 min. Even with my incessant questions and Pitcher’s detailed answers, we were ready in 20.
Engine Start
Three minutes after the APU is started, bleed air will be available, and the engines will be ready for start as soon as the Before Start Checklist is completed. Pushing either engine’s FADEC RUN/STOP button sends air to the starter and as soon as 32 psi is indicated, the START button can be pressed. We got the 32 psi in just a few seconds and it seemed to me that each engine start took less than 30 sec. I could barely hear the engines from the cockpit.
After engine start, I checked the flight controls in each axis, as well as the speedbrakes. I was a little surprised by the amount of force needed to move the ailerons full throw, but the elevator moved more easily. (Both are fully mechanical with no hydraulic assist.) The rudder is electrically controlled, hydraulically actuated and it moved easily.
Taxi was effortless with the airplane gently starting to roll as I released the brakes. The nosewheel steering uses a mechanical linkage from a left seat tiller and from both sets of rudder pedals to drive a hydraulically assisted nosewheel steering assembly. The tiller provides up to 80- to 81-deg. nosewheel deflection, the rudder pedals provide up to 7.5 deg.; both can add up for a total of 88 deg. left or right of center. The tiller felt heavier than I expected, but that made it easier to make smooth movements.
The wheel brakes are actuated conventionally. The multi-disk, anti-skid carbon brake system is electronically controlled and hydraulically actuated. This kind of “brake by wire” is new for the Citation lineup, but they seemed to have gotten it right. Brakes are not overly sensitive and were effective.
We selected “Flaps 2” for takeoff. The electric flaps are motor driven to three positions: Flaps 1 gives you 7 deg. of flaps, Flaps 2 gives you 15 deg., and Flaps Full gives you 35 deg. The difference from minimum to maximum can reduce approach speeds by as much as 33 kt.
The two center Garmin Touchscreen Control panels. Photo credit: James Albright
Switching from clearance delivery to ground control and to tower frequencies made me appreciate a design decision Garmin made with its touchscreen control panels. They placed primary radio data information on top and included mechanical interfaces on bottom. With other designs, pilots are required to activate the communications page with a swipe of the screen, then punch in the frequency and then select the appropriate radio. With the GTC, the frequency is always in view and can be changed by simply selecting it. Volume changes are as simple as a twist of the knob. The three physical controls on the bottom have myriad uses, all making the pilot-to-avionics interface simpler.
This kind of mix between glass and physical switches can seem to be a step backward to the days of partial glass cockpits a few decades ago. But I think it might be a correction from other designs that have gone too far. My “other job” is flying a Gulfstream GVII where almost all conventional “hard” switches have gone “soft.” Responding to a request to ident, for example, has become somewhat more complicated in the brave new world. Depending on which page a touchscreen is left, getting to an ident button can involve a swipe of the screen or a press of page tab before the ident button can be found. The process gets easier with practice and muscle-memory, but you have to add all the other tasks requiring similar screen gymnastics to your learning curve. With other, more conventional aircraft, you simply find the physical button and press it. With the Longitude, most of these conventional “hard” switches remain hard. Of course, hard switches are more expensive. But it does make pilot tasks easier.
CLEARED FOR TAKEOFF
Credit: Textron Aviation
We were cleared for takeoff on Runway 01R at Dwight D. Eisenhower National Airport (KICT) and the Citation Longitude’s FADEC-controlled engines allowed me to simply push the throttles full forward. Hitting the Takeoff/Go Around (TO/GA) buttons earlier armed the autothrottles, which took over after I pushed them full forward. The engines responded quickly to takeoff thrust. Keeping the aircraft aligned with the runway centerline was simply a matter of steering with my feet and each V-speed came quickly. Our V1, decision speed was 107 kt., rotation speed was 113 kt., and V2, takeoff safety speed was 125 kt. As with many over-powered aircraft, these speeds seem to be of little consequence with all engines operating: They come and go very quickly.
A gentle pull to what looked to be around 10 deg. of pitch allowed us to alight gently and we were airborne. Pull forces were not substantial and it was easy to bring the nose up without over-rotating. If there was any pitch change due to flap retraction, I didn’t notice it; I was too busy adding nose-down trim to compensate for our rapid acceleration. The flaps had just made it to their fully retracted position when we were asked to turn 40 deg. Here again the aileron forces seemed heavy, reminding me of my days flying a Gulfstream III. But I soon got used to needing more muscle power in the roll axis and after a while I forgot it was ever a concern. Capturing and holding a 250-kt. climb speed was easily done, and passing about 10,000 ft. I decided to give the autopilot the fun of flying the airplane while I turned my attention to navigation and other cockpit duties. The autopilot accelerated us to 270 kt. until Mach 0.76, which it then maintained.
Testing Vmo at 40,000 ft. Photo credit: James Albright
We made it to FL 400 in less than 20 min. I opted for an altitude less than 41,000 ft. to keep the crew off oxygen; 45,000 ft. was easily within our reach. I wanted to see the aircraft at its maximum speed and it easily accelerated to Mach 0.84. As we nibbled into the red and white “barber pole” of the airspeed tape, the autothrottles gently reduced our thrust to keep us right at Mach-Maximum Operating (Mmo). Roll control remained responsive and I did not detect any aileron buzz or other signs that my earlier concerns about a less than laminar flow off the ailerons were valid. In fact, other than the PFD indication, we had no other signs the aircraft was at its maximum speed, not even an aural clacker.
The “good manners” of the aircraft’s handling at high altitude and high speed prompted a lot of questions on my part about the Longitude’s partial fly-by-wire (FBW) system. While the ailerons and elevators are strictly conventional cables and pulleys that you would have found on the Citation I, which was certified more than 50 years ago, the rudder, spoilers, brakes and throttles use concepts unheard of back then. Many of us equate FBW with the old Airbus versus Boeing debate, arguing if the aircraft should have the ability to override the pilot. That debate is no longer valid, as Boeing has adopted FBW in its latest aircraft and Airbus has tweaked its version of FBW to prevent accidents like the June 26, 1988, crash of an Airbus A320 during an air show at Basel/Mulhouse-EuroAirport (LFSB), France. In that incident, the aircraft decided it was landing just as the pilot decided he was going around. In an odd twist of fate, a Boeing 777 had a similar accident on Aug. 3, 2016, at Dubai International Airport (OMDB). What those aircraft have in common are flight control computers that can make decisions and can, indeed, override pilot decisions.
The partial FBW on the Longitude is different—in fact very different. One of the advantages of FBW is a drastic reduction in weight and space requirements for all those cables and pulleys. Placing electrons between the pilot and the flight controls also allows more precise control when the pilot might be too busy or simply unable to provide the precision needed. The speed envelope provides a good illustration of this in the Longitude.
If you fly too fast and the autothrottles are engaged, the airplane has the good sense to bring the throttles back just far enough to keep you at the limiting speed. If the autothrottles are not engaged, they will automatically engage to retard the throttles. The aircraft will not automatically adjust pitch in an effort to reduce speed, but the flight director will provide the pilot with pitch-up commands. If you fly too slowly, the autothrottles will advance and if the speedbrakes are deployed, they will automatically stow. The aircraft is also equipped with a conventional stick shaker and pusher.
The Longitude includes an emergency depressurization mode (EDM), which activates if cabin pressure exceeds 14,700 ft., provided the autopilot is engaged and the aircraft is above 30,000 ft. In this situation, the aircraft will turn 90 deg. left, the autothrottles will retard to idle, and the aircraft will descend 15,000 ft. at Mmo/Vmo. Once level at 15,000 ft., the autothrottles will advance to provide a safe margin above stall speed. This automatic descent is becoming more or less standard on many high-altitude business jets, but the selection of 30,000 ft. as the minimum altitude for an EDM is not. Most of the aircraft that I’ve flown use 40,000 ft., a number that is too high in my opinion. Isn’t 39,000 ft. just as much a problem? I like the 30,000-ft. solution better.
The FBW rudder is electrically controlled and hydraulically actuated and feels perfectly conventional in all respects. In a way, many aircraft have a bit of FBW in the rudder, like the Longitude, with electronic yaw dampers and turn coordinators. The FBW spoilers also feel perfectly conventional in flight, helping to crisp up the roll rate of those cable-driven ailerons and to increase the descent rate when used as speedbrakes. The speedbrake handle is large and gives a good tactile sensation of how much is being used. The gentle buffet of the airflow from the spoilers to the tail was hardly noticeable.
Pilots who don’t trust these “Buck Rogers” FBW aircraft will have nothing to fear from the Longitude in that there are no flight control computers to take control away from them, aside from a gentle movement of the throttles when flying too fast or slow. As a former FBW-phobic pilot I would warn these wary pilots that full FBW is inevitable; nothing beats a flight control computer for extracting maximum performance and efficiency from an airframe. But I digress! The Longitude’s hybrid system reduces weight, increases efficiency and is really transparent to the pilot.
Environmental control system synoptic at 40,000 ft. Photo credit: James Albright
Cruising at 40,000 ft., I noted our cabin was at 4,700 ft. with a 9.6 PSID. Even at 45,000 ft., the cabin altitude would be below 6,000 ft. with a 9.66 PSID. While not the lowest I’ve seen in a business jet, it is easily the lowest for a super-midsize business jet. The Longitude achieves this performance with an air-conditioning system setup I have not seen before. A single air cycle machine (ACM) is paired with a heat exchanger (HE), which provides significant weight savings over a more conventional dual ACM solution. Combined, they provide the low cabin altitudes while the aircraft is at its ceiling of 45,000 ft.; alone, either the ACM or HE can do the same up to 41,000 ft. A small portion of the air is recycled through high-efficiency particulate air (HEPA) filters and all cabin air is exchanged every 2.5 min.
Also notable was the noise, or the lack of it, even in the cockpit. Many aircraft tend to get noticeably louder at high speeds, the air rushing around the nose giving the loudest impact in the cockpit. I did not sense any of that effect in the Longitude, which has the lowest noise level in class.
Descent and Landing
Finishing our air work, I turned us toward Hutchinson Regional Airport (KHUT), Kansas. Using a combination of vertical navigation (VNAV) and vertical speed commands made descent planning easy and the FMS helped position us for the RNAV (GPS) Runway 31 approach. We accepted vectors from Wichita Approach Control and configured with Flaps 1 and slowed to 200 kt. The navigation display simplified descent planning while the moving aircraft symbol overlayed on the Jeppesen approach plate increased situational awareness. A few miles outside the final approach fix I asked for Flaps 2 and slowed further to 160 kt. The autopilot handled the speed and configuration changes easily and I did not perceive any adverse G-loading found in some aircraft as flaps are extended. My plan was to allow the autopilot and autothrottles to bring the airplane down to LPV minimums, 250 ft. above the runway, and then go around as if missing the approach. With the vertical path a dot above us, I asked for the landing gear, which extended quickly and placed us ready for our descent. I delayed the last notch of flaps until we were established on about a 700-fpm descent and then asked for “Flaps Full.”
The autopilot commanded about a 5- to 8-deg. pitch change with the flaps and gradually returned the pitch to just a few degrees above the horizon as the airspeed settled at 140 kt. I didn’t feel any decrease in G-loading, but the pitch change took me by surprise. Pitcher explained that the 140-kt. bug speed was selectable by the pilot and would automatically reduce to Vref with 2 nm to go. That distance was also pilot-selectable.
The artificially high approach speed is a common practice among jets capable of lower Vrefs, helping to expedite the approach while not hindering following traffic. I wasn’t sure about the 2-nm distance, however. On a 3-deg. glidepath that leaves just over 600 ft. to go and just over 100 ft. to become stable by the industry-standard 500-ft. stable approach call. I was also unsure about slowing to Vref, but as the student in this situation, I was prepared to learn.
The sight picture from the large cockpit windshield made tracking the 7,003-ft. runway’s touchdown zone easy. Just as predicted, at 2 nm the bugged speed reduced from 140 kt., lower but not all the way down to our Vref of 120 kt. As before when slowing to 140 kt., the aircraft’s pitch changed slightly and we settled at Vref plus about 5 kt. by about the time we got to minimums.
After Pitcher’s “Minimums” call, I hit the TO/GA button on the left throttle and both throttles advanced to go-around thrust. The autopilot automatically disengaged and I rotated into the command bars and followed the navigation cues selected to match our climb-out instructions. We cleaned up the airplane and steered back to KICT for one more approach and landing, this time fully hand-flown.
Pitcher quickly downloaded the ATIS and programmed the landing data into the FMS, leaving us with time for more of my questions about approach speeds. I noticed on our first approach that the speed never made it to Vref. Pitcher explained that the FMS uses inputs from the air data system as well as acceleration and deceleration inputs from the IRUs to come up with an adjustment, similar to the one-half steady and full gust factor used on other aircraft. He also said that we didn’t want to land hot, because even with an extra 5 kt., the airplane likes to float. I asked if the airplane can simply be flown onto the runway in that situation and he readily agreed.
We received vectors to shoot the ILS Runway 01R and configured as before, extending the first notch of flaps about 5 mi. short of glideslope intercept. With Flaps 1 and 2, pitch changes were minor and the aircraft slowed to target speeds easily. I did not feel any need for excessive pitch or trim changes with gear extension, and capturing and maintaining the glidepath was not a problem. The winds were called at 320 deg., 16 kt. gusting to 20, about a 12-kt. crosswind without the gust.
I asked for full flaps right after glideslope intercept and again noticed the large pitch change, which I countered with aft yoke pressure. I trimmed and trimmed some more before Pitcher called me “a dot low.” With a little more effort, I got us back on glidepath and trimmed for 140 kt. Our Vref was 118 kt. and Vapp was 130 kt., but I was unsure what additive the airplane would choose once we were inside of 2 nm. Most aircraft that I have been typed in use half the steady state wind and all of the gust, with a minimum of 5 kt. and a maximum of 20 kt. Vref additive. That would come to 12 kt. above Vref, or 130 kt.
“Here comes the speed,” Pitcher called at 2 nm. The airspeed reduced quickly to about 125 kt. The trim change was noticeable but manageable and the autothrottles did a good job of keeping us on speed. I crossed the end of the runway at about 50 ft. and found myself ready to flare at 20 ft., just as the autothrottles retarded to idle. I gave the right rudder a little push to align the aircraft with the runway and my hands subconsciously leveled the wings. Rotating to the flare attitude required minimal force and the wheels kissed the runway right at the 1,000-ft. fixed distance markers, proving once again that trailing-link main landing gear make pilots look better than they are.
As soon as the main gear weight-on-wheels system signified the aircraft was on the ground, the six panels of the ground spoiler system fully deployed, making the aircraft settle nicely as I slowly released back pressure. The automatic ground spoilers use throttle lever angle, weight on wheels and airspeed to trigger deploy and stow actions.
I lifted the thrust reverser levers to the reverse position and slid both throttles to full reverse. “Keep them there,” Pitcher reminded me. The FADEC automatically began to reduce the amount of reverse thrust at 85 kt., ending at idle by 45 kt. This allowed me to keep the levers at full reverse, not having to worry about any engine or aerodynamic limitations while maximizing the stopping force. At 30 kt., the ground spoilers automatically stowed.
Taxiing back to where we started, I was again hit by the simplicity of it all. Many mundane pilot tasks are automated, and many tedious tasks are simplified. This was further emphasized during shutdown, which was simply a matter of shutting down the engines and turning off the batteries. “Gear pins?” I asked. “Not needed,” I was told. The gear-down locks require hydraulic pressure to release, removing yet another pilot worry.
As I walked away from the aircraft, I remembered a caution during my last aircraft initial training, in the Gulfstream GVII: “You have to get through the complexity to get to the simplicity.” For pilots, simplicity promotes safety. I think that perhaps for the Citation Longitude, the mantra should be: “You have to embrace the simplicity to maximize the safety.”
