Help

The square of nine dots at the top right of every page opens Hangar Flying’s apps — Home, the Panel Designer, the Marketplace and Help — on this site and the Panel Designer alike. Home shows a card for each app with what is waiting for you there. Help is now one page for every app, in sections, with one search across all of them; it opens at the section for the app you came from.

List an aircraft, a project or kit, an airpark home or lot, a hangar or a tie-down, and find them at hangarflying.com/marketplace. Type an aircraft’s registration number and the FAA registry finds it for you; then photos (up to thirty), a video, documents, the engine and propeller, and List it. Buyers search by make, model, year, price, total time and state, save a search and get an email when something new answers it, ask questions on the site, and research the aircraft from its card. Nobody’s email address is shown, and Hangar Flying takes nothing from the sale. Listings are a dollar a day, and there is no charge during the opening offer.

If you have an account on the Hangar Flying Panel Designer, sign in here with the same email and password — your account is made here as you sign in, with your name and your membership, and your Panel Designer account carries on exactly as before. New to Hangar Flying? Create an account is on the sign-in page. The page that holds your name, email and password is now called Profile, in the menu under your name; old bookmarks still find it.

The product is light only now. The dark appearance and “follow my device” are gone, and so is the chooser for them in the menu under your name — every page reads the same on every machine, whatever that machine is set to. The colors that carry meaning have not moved: red still stops a signature, amber still waits, green is still settled. And the icon in the browser tab, in your bookmarks and on a phone’s home screen is now the Hangar Flying mark itself — the same one hangarflying.com wears. A tab left open from before may keep the old icon until you reload it.

On the Equipment page, a part the site recorded from a logbook entry carries a "from the logbook" chip and a line — "From the Airframe log, page 3" — that leads to the entry it was read from, so it is never mistaken for one somebody typed. And when a book finishes reading, the airframe serial its entries name is compared with the aircraft’s: if they differ, the book’s page says so at the top, the bell rings, and the email that announces the book says it too. Nothing is refused on that account — the entries, clocks and parts are recorded as before — but the doubt is stated where a person can settle it against the page.

As a book finishes reading, every part its entries say was installed, replaced, overhauled or inspected — the engine, the magnetos, a standby attitude indicator, the ELT — is recorded on the Equipment page under its system, with the manufacturer, model, serial and part number as the entry wrote them and a note naming the page it came from. Directives and service documents are then checked against each as with any recorded part. A part the entries say was removed is marked removed on that date, and a part already recorded from its plate is left as it is. The bell says how many were recorded and leads to Equipment to check them.

When a book finishes reading, the annual or condition inspection its entries record sets the aircraft’s last-inspection date, from which the next one is computed, and the ELT battery, transponder, altimeter and other recurring items the entries show done are started — each told on the bell with the entry it came from. A date already on file is never moved backwards. An entry that did several things — an annual that also replaced the ELT battery — counts for each. Anything the site could not set is offered at the top of Coming due with an Agree button.

A photograph read was taking a minute or more; it now answers in a few seconds. The line under each part saying where its numbers are was checked through: the engine data plate is riveted to the crankcase (a Lycoming’s at the left rear, ahead of the accessory housing), not the accessory case; the governor is on the accessory housing pad on most engines; the alternator is belt-driven at the front on most Lycomings; and parts that are rarely marked now say so.

Pressing "Read attached data" on a part fills in the boxes above it and leaves the form open with a line saying so, instead of folding it away before anything could be checked or saved. What it read is filled in; press "Save this part" once it is checked against the plate. The photograph is kept with the aircraft either way, as on the engine page.

A library document is now titled the way a mechanic would ask for it — manufacturer, model or family, kind, years and publication number, "Cessna 172 Skyhawk Maintenance Manual 1969–1976 (D972-4-13)" — read from its own title page and its filing, rather than by its file name. The author is the manufacturer printed first on the document, never the site that hosted the copy, and the site now knows the electrical and hardware manufacturers of the AeroElectric collection by name.

Record an aircraft or a part and the site finds its manufacturer’s service documents itself: it identifies the company from the name and what was recorded, finds their service-documents page, and reads it every night. The aircraft’s Service documents page shows the manufacturer’s documents that name the model, with the rest folded beneath for review, and every document is the same card a directive is — read, complied with, not applicable, write it up, recommend. Piper Aircraft’s publications — one list per model on their own site — are fetched for every Piper model recorded, the moment it is recorded. Brochures and spec sheets found beside a manufacturer’s service documents are kept but never offered for audit. Every aircraft has an STCs page: every supplemental type certificate the FAA lists for its type, from the FAA’s own list, mirrored weekly. The Manuals page always says where each manufacturer publishes its manuals, or who sells them — and lists the library: manufacturer manuals, parts catalogs, handbooks and wiring the site holds as copies for the aircraft’s type, searchable page by page. Keeping a manual the search proposed copies it into the library, so the next aircraft of the type has it at once.

Every page was read through. Sentences that explained what a button already said are gone; what remains uses the words of Part 43 and AC 43 — discrepancy, corrective action, approved for return to service. Links that leave the site open in a new tab.

Everything the site emails you now also lands on the site: a new directive naming a part, a new service document, a manual found, a change in what is coming due, a decision from the shop or the owner, a logbook finished reading. The bell beside the search counts what you have not looked at; it opens the Notifications page, newest first, each line opening its page. And recording an engine, propeller or appliance now starts the search for its manuals at once, with every aircraft re-searched nightly until nothing is left to find.

Adding an aircraft now starts the search for its maintenance and parts manuals at once — the airframe’s and each recorded part’s — and the Manuals page carries what was found within a minute or two, each a proposal for somebody to rule on. The search then repeats nightly for anything a month unsearched, instead of on Sundays only.

A Federal Register entry the FAA never gave an AD number — an unparsed copy of a real directive, a correction notice, a proposed rule — no longer appears on any aircraft’s list or part card. Such records are held and read by hand before they enter the flow under their number. One card per directive, too, where the corpus held it twice. And every night the site checks each aircraft against the FAA’s own model lists and reports any directive that should be on a list and is not.

The Directives page is one column of cards of one shape, grouped by status. Folded, every card says what the directive is about, what it asks, and why it is on this aircraft; a settled one says which FAA fact settled it, with the abstract a press away. Unnumbered Federal Register entries and correction notices now read as what they are instead of a list of model numbers.

Adding an aircraft now checks its own directives at once — a Cessna 172N shows its seat rails, door post, fuel strainer and fuel selector on the Directives page with nothing else recorded yet. Until now the search started from the recorded parts, so an aircraft with none was compared with nothing at all. Record the engine, propeller and appliances and theirs are checked too.

The first time an address signs in it is asked whether the account is for your own aircraft or for a shop working on other people’s, and starts at the right place — an owner at their aircraft, a shop at its first customer. On the Dashboard an aircraft card now turns amber and says how many directives still need a determination, instead of reading "Nothing outstanding" while work waits.

Tempest moved its library to aeroaccessories.com, one page with every tab — maintenance and service manuals, service bulletins, service information letters, service letters, STC and PMA papers, tech tips, letters of engineering concurrence. All of it is now read every night and shown on the cards of Tempest parts, each document under the name Tempest gives it. The documents themselves stay on Tempest’s site.

The Directives page now compares the FAA’s model list with the airframe as well as with the parts, and it knows that a directive the FAA files under Textron Aviation was written against a Beechcraft or a Cessna, one under Continental Aerospace Technologies against a Continental. Directives that name your airplane are on the review list where they belong; directives whose FAA model list names only other aircraft — King Airs on a Bonanza, other manufacturers’ hubs on your propeller — are settled from the FAA’s own facts instead of asking to be read. Found with a Bonanza A36 and its full equipment list.

Two pages, linked at the foot of every page, saying in plain words what the service is and is not, what it holds about you and your aircraft, where that goes, and how long it stays. Nothing about how the service works has changed; what it does is now written down where you can read it.

Closing an account has always hidden its records and started a window in which somebody can change their mind. Once that window has run out an administrator can now remove the account for good, which hands back the email address so it can be used to sign up again. Where the account signed maintenance entries the entries are untouched — a signature stays exactly as it was made, the way a paper logbook outlives the mechanic who wrote in it.

Recording a recurring item as done — an ELT battery, a pitot-static check, an oil change — saved the change correctly and then sent you to a page that does not exist. The work was never lost, but you had to press Back to see it. Fixed.

An engine with forty directives against it used to be forty open cards stacked under the part, and there was no reading it. Each one is now a single line — the AD number, what it is about, its chip and its dates — and pressing it opens the rest: what it requires, why it reached that part, the FAA’s summary, and the five things you can do about it. Opening one leaves the others where they were, so you can work down a list without it closing behind you. They are grouped by what they ask of you, too: the ones that name the part, the ones still to check, the ones complied with, and the ones set aside — each group saying how many and what they are. The AD compliance record that 91.417 asks you to keep has come out of the middle of the part’s details and become a group of its own beside them.

Pitot-static and transponder checks, the ELT battery, your own intervals — all of them now ride along on your coming-due email, which they had not been doing. An automatic ADS-B watch was announced here on this date and has since been withdrawn; the times are read off the meters on an aircraft’s Flight Log, which is where they always belonged.

Every aircraft now has a Manuals page, and it does not start empty. When an aircraft is added — and again each week, because manufacturers publish long after an aircraft arrives — we search for the maintenance manuals and parts catalogs covering its airframe, engine, propeller and recorded parts, open each address ourselves to be sure it answers, and offer what survives. Nothing is adopted: a wrong manual is worse than none, so each one waits for you to keep it or say it is the wrong document, and if you find the right page yourself while checking, the field to paste it into is on the same card. A manual you upload is read page by page, so you can ask it a question instead of scrolling it — type "oil change" or a part number and you get the passage and the page it is on, across every manual on that aircraft at once. Scanned books work; the pages are read the way a person reads them, so a photographed 1978 parts catalog answers as well as a modern PDF.

Every list in the product is now cards rather than a table — the directives waiting for a determination, the ones already settled, the discrepancies, the equipment, and your review queue. Each card carries a chip saying exactly what is outstanding on it, and the cards arrive with the worst first, so what needs doing is the first thing you see rather than something you sort for. An aircraft’s own page is now a card for each part of the job — Due & Coming Due, Airworthiness Directives, Discrepancy Reports, Service Bulletins, Equipment, Data Plates, Logbooks & Records, Inspection and Return to Service — each with a chip saying exactly what is outstanding on it, and draggable into whatever order suits you. An aircraft’s sections also sit in a menu band directly under the title bar, with the tail number leading it — press that to come back to the aircraft from anywhere in it. The breadcrumb trail is gone; the menu says where you are.

Opening an aircraft used to give you seven doors and leave you to work out which one to go through. It now shows a card for each step of the work, numbered in the order it happens, each with a chip saying exactly what is outstanding — "51 entries to check", "63 plates to photograph", "Nothing open". Press and hold a card to drag it where you want it; a card keeps its own step number wherever you put it. The one to do next — what it is, why it is needed with the regulation linked, and how to do it — followed by the whole sequence of eight steps, so you can see what is finished, what you are on, and what is still coming. The order is the order the work happens in: record the aircraft, upload the original logbooks, record what is installed, photograph the data plates, determine the directives, do the work that was written up, inspect, approve for return to service. The button names the page it takes you to, and once you are there a bar across the top says which step you are on and carries one link back to the aircraft — so you finish a step, come back, and the page has moved on to the next one.

Two more things now gather in the Review inbox, both read out of your original logbooks. Where a book shows a recurring item being done — an altimeter and static system check, a transponder check, an ELT battery — and the aircraft is tracking no clock for it, the entry is offered so the next one due computes forward into Coming due; you are never offered one already tracked. And where the reader was unsure of a transcription, the entry now carries "Agrees with the page": open the scan beside it, read the two together, and press it. Nothing is rewritten — the scan stays the record — but the doubt is answered and it leaves the inbox. Review is also a fixed stop in the phone’s bottom bar now, and every aircraft’s Overview carries a "For your review" tile with that aircraft’s own count.

One queue for everything the machine proposed that waits on your agreement. When an original logbook is read and its entries look like directive compliance, when directives are settled from the FAA’s own facts, or when new ones queue up to be read or determined, a "For your review" card appears on the Dashboard with the count. It opens the Review page — one sortable row per aircraft per kind of waiting item, each row leading straight to the page where the agreement is made. When nothing waits, the card is not there at all.

The user guide was rewritten front to back to match the product as it stands after the reorganization — twenty-six articles grouped by the work: starting out, recording the aircraft, airworthiness directives, findings and sign-off, and everything around the product. It opens with a contents card where every line jumps to its article, covers what was missing — the Dashboard and calendar, the tables and their sorting, the Directives page whole, how matching finds a part, coming due, hours, your account, and where the data comes from — and every stale page name from before the reorganization is gone.

This list has a home again: the foot of the Guide, each change folded behind its dated title, newest first. The Guide’s search reads these too, so a half-remembered change is findable by any word it carried.

Typing a directive’s own number into the Directive Search — 2026-17-10, with or without the AD, spaces or slashes — now puts that directive first, marked as its own number. It used to find only documents whose text mentioned the string, which read as the search being broken the morning a new AD dropped. The Administration console gained Manufacturer names: where a part’s plate spells a manufacturer in a way the FAA never writes — CLEVELAND (PARKER HANNIFIN) against Parker Hannifin — the machine queues it with its best guess, and your confirmation immediately widens the directive matching for every part carrying that plate; recording that a manufacturer genuinely shares no service data is an answer too. And administrators now receive the unfiltered feed: every new airworthiness directive the nightly sync brings in, emailed the same night, matched to an aircraft or not.

At the top of the Directives page, under the title: how many FAA airworthiness directives this aircraft was checked against, the recorded manufacturers the check ran for — spelled as their plates spell them — and the date the nightly sync last brought the corpus current. The provenance a mechanic should not have to wonder about.

On Your aircraft at the shop, the two contact cards — how to reach the shop, and what they have on file for you — now sit at the top, with the aircraft following. The Administration launcher’s tiles arrange by press-and-hold drag like every other launcher. The console’s Accounts page, which crashed on opening, is fixed — and a crawl of every link on the site, signed in as a shop, an owner, and an administrator, found nothing else broken.

The console now opens the way everything else does: a launcher of tiles — Deleted records, Reports, Checklist gaps, Accounts, Activity log, External sources, Settings — each with one fact and an amber count where something waits. Deleted records moved to its own page under the launcher, the menu lost its explanations like every other menu, and the pages carry the standard headings.

Opening an aircraft took about four seconds, because every view re-checked all of its parts against every directive the FAA has ever published — thirteen thousand documents, every time. That answer is now computed once and kept, and recomputed only at the moments it can actually change: when a part is recorded or edited, and when the nightly directive sync lands. Pages now answer in a fraction of a second, and what they show is exactly as current as before — the very first view after a change does the fresh check, and everyone after gets it instantly.

Clicking a Status or Directives column header now puts the worst at the top — required for airworthiness before recommended, action required before review before settled — instead of alphabetizing the chip words. Nobody sorts a status column to spell it; they sort it to find the work.

On a wide screen the account menu had slid into the middle of the bar, under the search box. It sits at the right edge again, and the search box centers itself only where there is genuinely room for it — on narrower windows it stays beside the account menu.

Every table now sorts by clicking a column header — once for A to Z, again to reverse, a third time for the page’s own order — and the systems on the Equipment page became a table too, one row per system with its status. On a phone the equipment table shows just the item and its directives; the row opens the rest. Page titles lost their explanatory sentences and gained the regulation instead: the CFR part that requires each page’s function sits under the title, linked. Coming due items are now closed cards — click one and it opens to the task, with recording and rescheduling right there. The Inspection page’s cards run in work order — the checklist, then recording a finding, then the directive review pointer — and a Maintenance records card takes you to the paperwork. On the records page the section is called Original logbooks now, the page’s address says /records (saved /maintenance links still arrive), and every line under What has been complied with opens the entry, the uploaded logbook page, or the settled table that stands behind it — no card is a dead end. And two ways out of a slip of the finger: an inspection started by accident can be deleted while nothing has been worked, and a discrepancy report written by accident can be deleted while it is untouched — after that, discontinuing and declining keep the record honest. The pile of directives the FAA’s own facts rule out now says so on its face, with Read each reason and Agree — record all — the same card, in plainer words.

The long lists became tables, one row per record, so a page of many reads at a glance and the card only appears when you open it. The directives needing review are a table — reference, subject, what it is on, and a Review chip — and clicking a row unfolds the same card with every exit on it. Discrepancy reports are a table under each heading — status, DR number, what was found, and the date — and a row opens today’s card with deciding, correcting, and signing off unchanged. Inside a system on the Equipment page, the slots are rows — item, make, model, serial, and a directives chip — and a row opens the part as the full page it already was; an arrangement you made of the old tiles still decides the row order. The Discrepancies page’s pointer to the directive review now goes to the Directives page, where the review has lived since this morning.

The site is being reorganized around simpler navigation, and this is the first piece. An aircraft’s sections are now Overview · Equipment · Inspection · Discrepancies · MX records — each with its own icon, in the strip under the breadcrumbs on a computer. On a phone, the bottom bar became a carousel: Dashboard, Calendar, the aircraft you are on, and Find stay put at the left, and a swipe carries on through every section of that aircraft. The aircraft’s Overview now opens with a tile for each section — a name, one fact, and one status chip — so the whole aircraft reads in a glance and every tile is a door. Recurring items moved to their own Coming due section, notes and photographs have their own page, the cards arrange to your own order — press and hold one until it lifts, drag it where you want it, and the phone follows the same order; the Equipment page’s system cards and the part cards inside each system arrange the same way, the “How this page works” links are gone in favor of the Guide — highlighted in the menu and one tap from the phone’s bar — and archiving an aircraft is a plainly named fold on the identity card — "Archive", nothing fancier. Every card on the aircraft page is now the same shape, and opening one takes you to the page where the work happens; parts no longer installed moved to the Equipment page, with the parts. Every address you have saved or printed still works — only the names and the doors changed. Airworthiness directives now have their own section — what the old logbooks answer, what the machine settled and awaits your agreement on, the review needing your determination, and a table of everything already settled, all in one place; the Inspection and Discrepancies pages point there instead of carrying pieces of it. The review also now finds a directive whichever way the manufacturer’s name is spelled — the plate’s spelling and the FAA’s own field both match. The calendar sits above its lists on every screen and lost the spanning stay bar — single-day chips only, still draggable. On a phone: every form field that sat cramped beside another now takes its own line, the bottom bar follows the same order as the site’s own pages (search left the bar — it lives at the top), and adding a photograph opens the phone’s own chooser with the camera, the photo library, and files together. The Dashboard is now the one home page: your aircraft under Aircraft in the shop, one Coming up list, and the calendar itself, stacked — click any day on the calendar to intake an aircraft on that date. The separate Calendar page is gone (old links land here, month intact), the MRO heading and its explanation are gone, Customers moved into the account menu and Manage-my-account (where employee settings will live), the section label is now Records, uploads everywhere say and do the same thing — Upload photo or doc, opening your phone’s own chooser — the way back is one arrow in the same place on every page, and the search box says just Search anything, centered when there is room. More is coming: the remaining tables, and a Review inbox that gathers everything the machine has worked out and is waiting for your agreement on.

On a phone the product now keeps four buttons at your thumb: Dashboard, Calendar, the aircraft you are on, and Find. Tapping the aircraft slides up its five sections — Overview, Systems, Inspection, Airworthiness, Maintenance records — where the cramped second row of tabs used to be. The calendar shows a real month on a phone — each marked day wears its aircraft’s colored dots and jumps to that day in the list — and "This month, in order" and "Coming up" now sit above the wall planner everywhere. Directive cards no longer run off the edge of a phone screen (a stubborn file-upload box was the culprit), discrepancies listed on a part’s card are now the same cards the Airworthiness page shows, and a directives block that says none reach an experimental part now folds the full list instead of spilling it open. Where a part has no model recorded, each directive now says whose model is missing and where to enter it — and directives reaching a part through the FAA’s own make field are no longer dropped when the data plate spells the manufacturer differently.

Where a transcribed logbook entry cites a directive still needing review, the Inspection page now offers it as evidence: "The old logbooks answer N of these" sits above the review, each proposal showing the entry’s own words, the date, who signed, and one click to the scanned page. Agree and prior compliance is recorded — method, date, and the page as evidence, the AD status 91.417(a)(2)(v) asks for — and the directive leaves the review. Clear readings can be agreed in one press; entries the reader marked "check against the page" are agreed one at a time. Nothing is recorded until you agree.

The calendar now draws an aircraft’s whole shop stay as a colored bar across every day from check-in to expected out — drag the bar to move the entire stay, or either end chip to move one date. Chips wear their aircraft’s color as a wash behind the edge. Each calendar item now opens the page where it actually lives: a recurring item lands on the aircraft page, a TBO on its part under Systems. On a phone, discrepancy reports read at full width and the aircraft’s tabs sit on their own row under the breadcrumbs instead of hiding off-screen. And in the customer portal, every aircraft now carries "Dates ahead" — the same computed coming-due list the shop plans around.

Every aircraft keeps its own color on the calendar — an edge on each chip, a dot in the lists, and a legend saying which is whose — so a full month reads at a glance. And the dates the shop itself stated now reschedule by dragging them to another day on the month grid: check-in, due-out, a deferral, parts expected. Computed due dates — an AD’s next due, the inspection, a recurring item — do not drag, and say so if you try: they follow from the records, and they move by changing the record behind them.

Found the entry where the ELT batteries were last replaced? Every entry in a digital log now carries "Set a clock from this entry": say what the entry shows being done — an ELT battery, a transponder check, an oil change, or anything custom with its own interval — and the entry’s date becomes the item’s last-done date. The next due computes forward into Recurring items, Coming due, the calendar, and the daily email, and the item’s notes say which page set it. An item the aircraft already tracks is advanced, never duplicated — and never moved backwards by an older entry. The one search box and the digital log’s filter also now match every word with singular and plural finding each other, and the scanned books no longer crowd the photographs card.

Every logbook you upload is now read, page by page, and transcribed into a digital log: each entry with its date, time in service, the work performed verbatim, who signed it, and any airworthiness directives it cites. Open the digital log from the book’s card on Maintenance records. Every transcribed entry links to the scanned page it was read from — the signed page remains the record, and where the reading was unsure it says "check against the page" instead of guessing. Reading starts by itself after an upload, the card shows page-by-page progress and keeps itself current without refreshing, and an email arrives when the whole book is read. Uploaded the wrong book? Its card has a remove button — the book is hidden, not destroyed, and an administrator can bring it back. Nothing is created from what is read until you agree to it; proposing found compliance against the directive review is the next piece.

Maintenance records now retains the aircraft’s old paper books. Photograph the pages or upload a scanned PDF — one book at a time, in page order — and they stay with the aircraft records, readable from anywhere. Send up to about six photographs a batch; if a batch is ever too big to send at once, the page now says so in words instead of an error number. This is the first piece of a larger plan: next, the pages will be read and transcribed, and compliance found in them will be proposed against the directive review.

Everything needing a decision left the aircraft’s own page: the directives on the airframe (already in the Inspection review, where they were being shown twice), the manufacturer’s service documents (now one card beside the review, with how many still need deciding), and the new-directive alerts, which now greet you at the top of the Inspection page — the review announcing itself where the review happens. The aircraft’s page keeps the record: identity, recurring items, what is installed, notes, and photographs. It is about half as long.

A red or amber card on the dashboard used to jump straight to the Airworthiness page. Now every aircraft card opens the aircraft itself, and the work flows through its tabs in order — Systems, Inspection, Airworthiness, Maintenance records. The card still says what needs doing; the page order says where.

An aircraft now carries its recurring items: the 91.411 altimeter/static and 91.413 transponder checks, the 91.207 ELT inspection and its battery’s stamped replace-by date, the 30-day VOR check, the 100-hour, the oil change, and anything of your own with an interval in months, days, or hours. Add one on the aircraft page with when it was last done — the regulation’s own interval fills itself in — and its due date joins the coming-due watch, the calendar, and the daily email like everything else, with the citation on the card. Press “Done — record it” when it’s done and the next one computes. Hours-based items read against the aircraft’s recorded times — which the owner can now keep live from the portal. The section sits near the top of the aircraft’s page, above Systems.

On “Your aircraft at the shop,” each aircraft now carries “Flown it? Update the hours” — the owner types the tach and Hobbs straight from the meters, the aircraft record picks them up, and the shop is emailed the change, old number to new. Anything due by hours reads against live numbers instead of whatever was on the record at the last visit. Only the boxes you change move anything, and commas or spaces in the number are fine.

Press Save on any folded form — the aircraft’s details, a decision, a correction — and once the save lands, the fold closes back to the normal display instead of sitting open with its button still showing. Product-wide. The folds you work many entries in a row, like the directive review groups, stay open while you work them.

The directive review now folds by the part the call is made against — “20 on the Engine, 12 on the Propeller” — so the Inspection page reads in two screens instead of twenty; open a fold and the same cards are there, choices and all. A “Back to top” button floats in on any page once the top is genuinely out of reach. And the kind of aircraft — Fixed wing, Rotorcraft — is now editable on the aircraft’s record, because it decides which directives can apply: an aircraft recorded as the wrong kind was being shown the wrong kind’s directives, and the registry cannot correct an aircraft it has never heard of.

The “How this page works” link now sits beside every page title, product-wide — each one opening the Guide at the piece about that page, or at the Guide itself where no piece matches yet. The Guide gained a piece on the Inspection page: findings, directive dispositions, the tailored checklist with and without the formal workflow, and how an open inspection ends.

Pages now live at addresses a person can read — /aircraft/N90161/inspection instead of a database number. Every old address keeps working forever: QR labels, links in emails, and bookmarks land where they always did and simply move to the new form. An aircraft with no registration recorded keeps its numeric address. And an open browser tab now notices when the product has been updated underneath it and refreshes itself on your next move, instead of quietly showing you yesterday’s screens.

An aircraft’s tabs read Systems · Inspection · Airworthiness · Maintenance records — record what is installed, decide what applies, correct and sign, keep the entries. The directive review — every directive still needing a determination of applicability, each with its full set of choices — moved from the Airworthiness page to the Inspection page, where it sits whether or not a formal inspection is open, because directives arrive all year. The Airworthiness page keeps the count and a button to the review, and stays the place where discrepancy reports are worked and the sign-off is made. And an inspection is not always the annual: an aircraft that came in for a landing-gear issue gets its landing gear inspected, so the Inspection page leads with recording what you find and deciding directives — the full Appendix D checklist sits one card away for when it is the annual or condition inspection. Want the checklist without the workflow? The card now offers the printable tailored checklist without opening an inspection — opening one starts the formal, signed event. And an open inspection says “Discontinue it” right in its heading line instead of hiding the way out at the foot of a hundred checklist items.

The IN THE SHOP chip — on the dashboard, the aircraft page, and the customer’s portal — now wears the quiet green: an aircraft in the shop is being looked after, and the chip should read that way. Scheduled stays a plain fact. A discrepancy report the owner declined now carries an amber chip instead of the settled green, so “owner said no” stays visible as something worth revisiting at the next annual rather than filing away as finished. And every amber chip now wears dark lettering on the lit-amber lamp, so it reads at a glance in both appearances.

Parts filed under “Engine” belong to the Powerplant system, and the two no longer appear as separate groups side by side — on the Systems page and in the customer’s portal view alike. The filing word you typed stays on the record; only the grouping folds.

The grays across the product now carry a subtle sky tint in both appearances — the dark one reads as evening rather than a black void, lifted so nothing on it is truly black, and every card sits clearly off the page. The bar across the top is a deep slate instead of blue-black, and the site name wears a soft sky blue of its own. Amber is now a lit lamp — bright, with dark text on it, the way an annunciator panel does it — instead of a dark yellow that read brown. Red, amber, and green still mean exactly what they meant.

If a shop keeps records on an aircraft of yours, the dashboard now shows a card for it — “Your aircraft at the shop”, with how many they hold — beside Aircraft and Calendar, where the navigation lives. It was reachable only from the menu under your name, and a door only one menu knows about is a door nobody finds. And for a customer whose whole account is that page, the site name at the top left now brings them back to it instead of leading them out to a dashboard about a product they are not using.

A customer opening “Your aircraft at the shop” now gets the answer before the reading: a banner says when a recommended repair is waiting on their decision — or that nothing is — and the aircraft come next, with how to reach the shop and the details held on file moved below them and the invitation to keep your own records at the foot. And on the Airworthiness page, recording a discrepancy no longer hides at the bottom of the report lists: “Found something during the inspection? Record it here” now sits beside the inspection card, where the person with the cowling off is actually looking.

The working pages — Airworthiness, Find anything, the aircraft page’s sections, and the customer’s at-the-shop view — now open with a single quiet line and a “How this page works” link instead of a standing paragraph. None of the teaching is gone: it moved into the guide, where it can be read when wanted rather than stepped over on every visit, and the guide gained a piece on the search box while the piece on what a customer sees now describes deciding on a recommended repair right from the portal. And the buttons and boxes you actually work with — the five choices on a directive card, writing up a discrepancy, recording work, the sign-off — are taller now, sized for a thumb at the aircraft rather than a mouse at a desk. Later the same day that sweep was finished across the whole product: every button, input box, menu row, and tab now meets the same thumb-sized height, and every button wears its intended color — blue for the main action, quietly outlined for the rest, red-outlined for deleting — with the few strays brought into line.

With the full abstract folded, a card led with a number and a filing title that says nothing — "Airworthiness Directives; Lycoming Engines" is true of hundreds. Now every directive card leads with the FAA’s own filing subject beside the number — AD 2012-03-07 · Carburetor — and the abstract’s one load-bearing sentence in the open: "This AD requires removing certain HA-6 carburetors…". The rest of the abstract stays one tap away. A discrepancy report written up from a directive now starts from that same line — the subject and the requirement — instead of a cut-off abstract, and that is also what the logbook entry will quote. Manufacturer service documents already say what they are in their titles; where a manufacturer publishes a Required action header, the card shows it. Reports written up before this change, whose description is still the machine-written abstract, read the same way on the card and in the entry — anything you typed yourself is never rewritten. The subject now comes from the AD’s own (d) Subject paragraph where the rule carries one, a discrepancy report’s details show the AD’s own (e) Unsafe Condition — why the rule exists, in the FAA’s words — and re-reading the whole corpus for these also taught the product to read about 1,500 older documents whose applicability it could not parse before.

The product wears its own face now — a brighter, warmer page instead of the office blue-gray, one confident cobalt for buttons and links, and three typefaces chosen for the work: Space Grotesk for headings, Public Sans for reading, and JetBrains Mono for the things you compare — tail numbers, serials, AD numbers. Everything is also set a step larger, because 13-pixel labels read fine at a desk and badly at arm’s length in a hangar. The colors that carry meaning have not moved: red still stops a signature, amber still waits, green is still settled. The dark appearance got the same treatment. And the top bar is simpler — Dashboard is a plain link instead of a menu that mostly repeated itself, menu entries no longer carry explanations, “Your aircraft at the shop” lives under your name at the right with the other things that are about you, and the “On this page” row of small links is gone: the strip below the bar now carries just where you are and the aircraft’s four tabs. Links that jump to a spot partway down a page still land there. And every directive card — on the review list, the part cards, the aircraft page and the discrepancy reports — now folds the FAA’s full abstract behind one button, “Read the FAA’s summary”: the determination still starts from their words, one tap away instead of in the way.

The daily-watch list now reads in three groups — government sources, aircraft manufacturers, then engine, propeller, and appliance manufacturers — each alphabetical. The maker-coverage list is now alphabetical inside each group, and every manufacturer’s name is a link to the best address held for it. Manufacturers whose service documents sit behind their own sign-in — Honeywell for BendixKing, Textron for Beechcraft — can be recorded as exactly that: the portal address is kept, the name opens it, and every part card from that manufacturer hands the mechanic the door instead of a dead end. A brand owned by another maker (Hartzell owns Weldon and Sky-Tec) can adopt the parent’s pages from a list, whatever the names share. And a page whose site blocks automated checks — AmSafe answers our nightly fetch with a guard page while a browser sees it fine — can stay linked on part cards while the nightly check leaves it alone.

Work recorded, decisions given, and sign-offs made after six in the evening were dated the next day — the server’s clock runs on universal time, and nobody in a hangar does. Every date box and every recorded decision now uses your own day. Also from tonight’s full walkthrough: a directive already written up as a discrepancy report no longer sits in the review list offering to be written up again; the same Federal Register document no longer appears twice where it reached us from two sources; a revised AD number like 2007-04-19R1 is now cited correctly — “AD” prefix, effective date, and its compliance record — when the logbook entry is written; the portal says when your aircraft is in the shop and when it is expected out; and “not applicable” reads as the settled determination it is, with the shop’s reason, instead of an identifier wearing an action-required chip.

The waiting color is now a true amber — clearly yellow beside the red that stops a signature, so the two states can never be mistaken for each other at a glance. And on My account, your details live in a card like everything else, paired boxes sit level, and a phone number tidies itself into (719) 555-0100 the moment you leave the box — however you typed it.

Appliance — 14 CFR 1.1’s word for any instrument, mechanism, equipment, part, apparatus, appurtenance, or accessory installed in or attached to the aircraft that is not part of an airframe, engine, or propeller — now appears throughout the product where “component” used to: the Systems and appliances page, the appliance tag reader, the Lycoming appliance worksheet, the guide. Magnetos, alternators, radios, autopilots, ELTs, transponders, carburetors, fuel pumps, vacuum pumps, propeller governors — all appliances. Nothing about your records changed; only the word.

On "Your aircraft at the shop", every finding written up from an airworthiness directive or service document now carries the document itself: its official title, published and effective dates, the FAA’s summary of what it requires in their own words, and the reference as a link that opens the document. The compliance list gained the same — each AD number now says what it is, and opens the FAA’s page. Deciding on recommended work no longer means deciding on a bare number.

The "Already complied with — record it from the logbook" form no longer hides behind a fold: the date, who signed it, next due where recurring, and the logbook photograph or PDF upload are all visible right on the directive card, everywhere the card appears.

My account now ends with a card that says exactly that: one press downloads everything the account holds — every aircraft, maintenance record, directive assessment and note — as a single plain-text file that opens on anything and stays readable in twenty years. And closing the account is yours to do: it hides everything, holds it unchanged through a waiting period in which one sign-in brings it all back exactly as it was, and only after that can it be removed for good. Nothing about leaving is a phone call.

Reviewing directives on an aircraft with history: every directive card now offers a fifth answer — already complied with — taking the date from the old logbook, who signed it, next due where recurring, and the entry itself photographed or as a PDF, kept as the evidence behind the AD status (14 CFR 91.417(a)(2)(v)). And the Airworthiness page’s needing-review list now carries the full set of answers on each row — complied with, does not apply, applies, recommend — so working down 48 of them does not mean 48 trips to the part cards. The propeller also became its own system, out from under the engine.

The equipment-list file now carries the ATA chapter (filled in automatically where one kind has one chapter — 72 Engine, 61 Propellers, 74 Ignition) and a quantity column for line items that are several of a thing, and both live on the part’s card too. And when an uploaded spreadsheet’s column names are not recognizable, the import now shows each column with a taste of its data and lets you say what each one is, right on the page — no reworking the file in Excel.

On an aircraft’s Systems page: download a CSV template tailored to that aircraft — its own expected items listed, what is recorded already filled in — work down it in a spreadsheet, and import it back. The import shows exactly what it would do before anything is written, adds parts and fills blanks, and never overwrites or removes a recorded value — disagreements are pointed out and left for the part’s own card. Export the full list any time, for another shop or the records that change hands with the aircraft (14 CFR 91.419). Loose spreadsheets are welcome: TSN, S/N, Mfr, US dates, and a weight-and-balance sheet’s extra columns all land.

Each recorded part can now carry its times — time since new, time since overhaul (and which overhaul: major, top, hot section, factory remanufacture), cycles, and the manufacturer’s recommended TBO in hours and years. Enter the readings once with the aircraft total time they were true at, and they advance with the aircraft — every signed entry that records total time in service moves the clock, and every part’s time moves with it. The part’s card shows where it stands against TBO, presented as what it is: the manufacturer’s recommendation, not a regulatory limit under Part 91. The calendar side of a TBO joins the coming-due watch and the daily email, and the aircraft can now carry a landings count.

The aircraft page’s "Directives on the airframe" cards now carry the same three exits every directive card has: read it and mark it not applicable (with a reason, reversible), applies — write it up as a required discrepancy report, or recommend it to the owner. And the section’s color and count now follow your answers — a directive you have dealt with stops counting toward "5 name this aircraft," and a fully dispositioned section goes quiet.

When you recommend work, your customer’s portal page now takes their answer directly — go ahead, wait with what brings it back, or decline, with their name and their reason — and you hear by email the moment they decide. The decision lands on the discrepancy report exactly as if you had recorded it; required-for-airworthiness items still take no decision, there or anywhere.

When a discrepancy report is inspected and accepted, the logbook entry it writes now leads with the original discrepancy — what was found, in the words it was written up in — and then the corrective action beneath it. An entry reading only “hardware replaced” left the next reader asking what was wrong; now the entry stands alone, the way a logbook should read. Entries already written are records and stay exactly as signed.

Mid-Continent Instruments numbers a service information letter the same as the service bulletin it accompanies — two documents, one number — and our records refused to hold both, which had quietly kept their whole list out. Fixed: about ninety bulletins and letters for their instruments, batteries and power systems now sync nightly and match against recorded parts like every other manufacturer’s.

An aircraft’s Airworthiness page can now open its annual or condition inspection. Opening one prepares a checklist for that specific aircraft — the scope and detail of Appendix D to Part 43, worded for the inspection the aircraft actually gets, every recorded part on its own line with its serial number, and items for equipment it does not have recorded not applicable with the reason on the document. Work the checklist item by item, write up findings as discrepancy reports as you go, and the sign-off writes the maintenance record entry in the FAA’s own wording — with the dated discrepancy list, frozen as provided, when the aircraft is not approved. Closing an inspection also sets the date the next one is figured from, so the coming-due watch follows on by itself.

When a manufacturer whose documents we hold — Garmin, Dynon, Advanced Flight Systems and the rest of the parsed tier — publishes something new that names an aircraft’s model or a recorded part, the account now hears by email the night it appears, once per document. Shop accounts hear alone and verify first, exactly as with a new directive; recommending the work is what reaches the owner.

When a newly published airworthiness directive names an aircraft — the airframe, its engine, or a recorded part — the account now hears by email that night, once per directive. On a shop account the email goes to the shop alone, so the shop verifies it applies before the owner hears anything; recommending the work from the directive’s card is what tells the owner, by email, with a link to their portal view. A personal account hears directly.

Every date on a record now reads day-first — 26 Aug 2026 — the way aviation paperwork has always written them: logbook entries, discrepancy reports, compliance records, coming-due notices, the daily email. Nothing about how dates are stored changed; only how a record reads.

A manufacturer can now have more than one confirmed service-documents page — Hartzell publishes across four — and every page joins the daily watch and the part cards. Confirming a page tests it immediately and answers in plain words; a Check it now button does the same for any page later; a pasted address works with or without the https://; and a wrong page can simply be removed.

Today wears the filled circle a wall calendar uses, so the current day is findable at a glance. And below the month, a new Coming up section lists everything ahead over the next year — and anything overdue, first — one card per item with the aircraft, what it is, the date, and how far off it is. Each card opens its aircraft.

Under My account there is a new Coming-due alerts card: pick how far ahead the daily email looks (30, 60 or 90 days), which kinds of item it covers, and up to five additional addresses to copy — the aircraft owner, or the IA who does your inspection. The dashboard and calendar always show everything regardless; this only decides what arrives by email.

Enter the date of the last annual or condition inspection on the aircraft’s identity card (Edit these details) and the product works out when the next is due — the end of the 12th calendar month, per 91.409 — shows it on the card, and watches it: the dashboard, the calendar, and the daily coming-due email all carry it, amber inside 30 days and red once overdue. The sign-off form also now takes the aircraft total time in service, which AC 43-9D recommends recording on every entry.

Search "far 91.205" and the regulation’s own text comes back as a card — all 6,281 sections of Title 14, mirrored weekly from the eCFR, searchable by number or by words. Registry results now carry the rest of the FAA record too: certificate and airworthiness dates, engine, kit, and Mode S code. The foot of the search page lists every source the box reads, with live counts.

Type a whole question — "search for all AD that apply to the lycoming 10-360-a1b6" — and the search sets the filler aside, corrects 10-360 to IO-360 the way a grubby plate reads, and answers: the directives, and now the FAA’s own Type Certificate Data Sheet index, 2,227 current sheets searchable by model, number or holder, each one a click from the FAA’s current revision.

The Calendar, in the first menu on the bar, shows the month: aircraft scheduled to come in, in the shop with an expected-out date, and the dated compliance items — AD next-due dates, work deferred to a date, parts on order. The dashboard lists what is in the shop and scheduled right now.

One card per aircraft across the whole account, worst first — the status color on its edge, Action required or Nothing outstanding, and a sentence saying why. An aircraft can be marked Scheduled or In the shop from its own page, and the dashboard shows that too. Clicking a red or amber card goes straight to the work.

Everywhere a photograph goes in — a data plate, a finding on a discrepancy report, the aircraft itself — there are now two buttons: Take a photo, which opens the phone camera, and Choose a file. No more hunting through a file browser with one hand on the cowling.

Adding an aircraft starts with the registration and the FAA registry fills in what it knows. The times at intake — tach, Hobbs, total time in service, engine and propeller — are separate boxes, because they are separate readings. And every aircraft page can print a QR label: stick it on the aircraft, and scanning it opens the record.

A customer signed in to their read-only view sees every discrepancy report on their aircraft as a card — what was found, what is required and what was left to them, what they decided, what is waiting on parts or the inspector, and what is signed off into the logbook. It says plainly when one is waiting on their decision.

Every directive on a part ends one of three ways: not applicable, with the reason; applies — written up as a discrepancy report required for airworthiness; or recommended to the owner to decide. The DR then walks through the work — parts on order with an ETIC, corrected by the A&P, inspected by the IA — and "Inspected and accepted" writes the maintenance record entry in the words 14 CFR 43.9 requires, and records the AD status 14 CFR 91.417(a)(2)(v) asks for — the AD, the method of compliance and, for a recurring one, when it is next due. The directive then reads Complied with.

The aircraft page leads to a Systems page of tiles, each colored by the worst thing inside it; a system shows its components as cards; a component is its own page with the directives that name it, and maintenance records, notes, photographs and documents in a column on the right. Breadcrumbs across the top are all links. Shop notes and files now live on each discrepancy report too, and a replaced part is recorded as a new one pointing back at the old.

Every current airworthiness directive the FAA publishes — thirteen thousand, with the FAA's own manufacturer and model fields — refreshed nightly, and the service bulletins, alerts and letters that Van's, Garmin, Dynon, Advanced Flight, Mid-Continent and others publish on their own sites, shown beside the directives on the parts they name. The Guide, reachable from the top bar, explains how the product reads them.

An aircraft can now be added and kept. Engine, propeller and equipment go on the aircraft they are installed on, so a compliance answer is about the whole aircraft rather than a part on its own.

Engine compliance now covers the manufacturer publications as well as the airworthiness directives — sorted into what needs doing, what needs a part number before it can be answered, and what does not apply. It arrives with the engine pages, which are being rewritten to sit inside an aircraft.

Directives are read from the official source and re-checked nightly, with the date of the last check shown so you can see how current the answer is.

The wire sizing tool, moved here — AC 43.13-1B Chapter 11. Continuous and intermittent ratings, voltage drop, and the protection device that suits the run.